waiting it out

Last week-end we went to Alamogordo. I swam in the hotel pool twice, and even ran in the water a bit, hoping this would remind my limbs that I used to run once. I traipsed around for hours in the White Sands National Park, barefoot in the sand, up and down the slopes. It hurt a lot, but I was too exhilarated by the landscape to pay attention.

I cleaned my bicycle, which has lingered untouched almost since I bought my first car two years ago. I cannot run yet, but I have to do something, afraid that all the work of the last half a year, from mile zero to 13, is going to be squandered otherwise.

They say the body heals. Mine takes its own sweet time.