Two miles at a time

This morning I got up early and jogged on the treadmill for almost forty minutes. My cat kept me company and we both stared longingly out of the basement windows, wishing it wasn't too dark and too cold to be outside. (We both may have also given some thought to the bears and coyotes we might encounter in the dark.)

I slowly covered two-and-a-half miles according to the display, which was about a half mile longer than yesterday's jog, but not quite the four mile run my spring training plan called for. I am grateful for two-and-a-half miles, however.

It's more than I was able to do two weeks ago, and much more than I could do a month ago.

The time on the treadmill has been an experiment in coming back. I've never torn a ligament or had plantar fasciistis. I've never had an injury that kept me from running if I chose to, but my inner ear problem might as well have been. As much as I dislike the treadmill and wish I could get out on the road, it has given me an opportunity to find out how high I can get my heart rate before my head starts to drain and the equilibrium changes. I'm glad to have the hand holds when the room spins.

I must begin my marathon plan next month to be ready for the Adirondack Distance Festival and my first attempt at a full marathon. I am grateful for this time to work my way back. I am grateful for Dr. Schwerman at the Schroon Lake Health Center for figuring out what was wrong and helping me fix it in time to start training.

I am also grateful that, despite a relatively inactive winter, I am not sore after my runs and not far from my "race weight" thanks to Isagenix. I'm grateful for my family and friends who saw me through and picked up my slack. I'm grateful for my yoga students, who gave me a reason to get out of bed when I felt like I could have slept forever. And I am grateful that my own yoga mat was waiting for me when I was ready to unroll it again.

Onward to marathon training...two miles at a time.