Mixed emotions is the only possible way to describe this week - especially the last couple of days.
Yesterday I woke up so excited. I was going to get to run with the group. For at least 300m or so. It amazes me at how exciting such a pitiful distance can feel when you've been out of action for 7 weeks. I left home without Bubbles for the first time in a month and she was confused and disappointed - but I was going to run and she only has 6 inch legs so it just wasn't going to work if I took her.
We took off at 5:30 and I did a great job for 550m before I realised that I'd gone a little further than intended and needed to walk. I blame Mike for that. He was just up to the exciting bit in the conversation where the surgeon was going to cut into his butt cheek and potentially deprive him the opportunity of being a g-string model. It's funny, though, how quickly after you stop running where even 500m becomes a long way. Surely my previous almost 30 years of pounding the pavement should count for something. But no! You take almost 2 months off and your legs pretend like they've forgotten how to run.
I decided at that point that I'd jog 500, walk 500. And yes, I mean jog rather than run. I was slower than a trickle but it was just so good to have that little bounce in my step. I ended up going 10k all told - so effectively I ran over 5k yesterday. AND I got to hear the end of Mike's story when we finished. (And no, he didn't show me his scar)
I came home elated. Sure, it wasn't anything to write home about performance-wise AND running even 1k in a stretch seems like a long way off but it was a giant leap in the right direction.
That was the highlight of the week. All the rest is pretty heavy stuff. I started out the week with the news that my physio/high school bestie had just had to have her beloved rottweiler put down. She loves her animals as much as I love mine and I knew how awful it was for her.
Then later in the week I heard of two separate tragedies affecting people that I have run with and laughed with. Lives over before their time. Both devastatingly sad. And then the news of a serious illness affecting a lady that I'd spent many hours with on the side of soccer pitches. And finally, today, another friend has made the decision to put her beautiful dalmatian down - 15 years old and in constant pain. It's a little close to home for me with Nelson showing obvious signs of decline.
Enough sad news already!!
Bubbles and I hit the road again today to help process all the heavy stuff. It was another run/walk with a lot more walking than yesterday's. It didn't really take any of the sadness away but it did help in the way that exercising always seems to help.
We walked past the exact same spot that I'd seen the torn-out article that had so intrigued me on Thursday. I have to admit that we went quite slowly and looked really carefully just in case it was still around. I spotted a rubbish bin and I have to admit that I was tempted to go scrounging. But Bubbles thought that it might look a bit undignified - a 40-something year old woman scavenging in the bin to find porn. I tend to think if we'd been scavenging in the bin for scraps of pie or sandwiches she may have changed her tune.
The sadness will dull in time. And life will go on - it's kind of relentless that way. This week I'll take more time to really appreciate all the wonderful people in my life. And I'm hoping that the bad news will give us a little breather to help us regain our equilibrium. I'm wishing for everyone a week filled only with good news. And smiles. And laughter.