presents

Yesterday I gave myself a Christams present. I ran 13 miles.

It was not an easy run - the morning was cold and windy, the track still partially covered with icy snow on the shady sides, and slushy mud on the sunny ones. But all in all it was not much different from the average four miles I put out on weekdays. Minute inevitably comes upon minute, and if you keep moving the miles accrue.

For the first time since the injury I ran 13 miles again, the most I ever ran. Thinking back I believe now I did not injure myself during the half-marathon race, but right before it, while warming up. The morning was too cold, I had to much time on my hands, I stretched too vigurously. I think I pulled that tendon that day, but not while running. Funny, sort of. That was almost four months ago.

I have climbed back halfway up the mountain. I am back at mile 13.

I know it is silly to be in a self-congratulatory mood about a victory factually old (I ran 13 miles first time in August), but I am. I am proud of myself, awash in jubilation.

I have recovered all miles lost.

Oh, and I got another present. Eric called me "Marathon Girl". It's not true, of course, not yet, but it made me feel ... valid. Little things count soooooo much.