A journey of a thousand miles begins with putting your shoes on and leaving the house.
Those savvy among you may notice that I've added a new race to the sidebar: the Soldier Field 10m. Evidently this is the spring of the 10m race for me, with the one a few weeks back, Broad Street at the beginning of May, and then Soldier Field to end the month of May. Bring it!
Assuming, that is, that I ever kick this cold. I got so fed up this morning that I went out and went to a spinning class. The cold has stayed almost completely in my head, so although I'm not over it, I didn't feel like it was dangerous to go out. I didn't leave the house at all yesterday, so I'm quite stir crazy. Even if it was miserable, I needed something. When I expected that the weather would be in the 40s, I had hoped it was a run. Instead I got 30s with snow flurries, so I went to the gym. If I'm still holding strong in a few hours, I may try a short run this afternoon. The thought of running in a skirt makes me extremely giddy after this snowy, snowy winter.
Part of the joy of coumadin is the limitations it places on what other drugs you can take. Advil: off the table. Antibiotics: only with caution. Even though I see my doctor nearly every week, it still gets old having to call her to find out if I can take a Sudafed. So, I've foregone cold medicine this time around. The placebo effect of EmergenC is actually significant.
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"