It has been a bad year for running. At least for me. I keep up on blogs and I read about everyone's runs, and I think to myself, "oh yeah. running. fun." I could run four days one week, and nothing the next, and just when I think I'm back in it, then I'm not. Too many excuses is mostly what it's about.
But here's the funny thing. Last week we had a group visiting - from my parents' home church. One of the parents in the group knew I ran a half marathon last January and asked if she could go on some runs with me. This was great motivation for me, because if I tell her "Yeah, let's meet outside in the parking lot at 6am" then I actually, you know, have to be there. And run. It was a great run - really slow (much slower than I thought we were going), but it was great to be pushed just because I was running along with someone else. I didn't want to quit!
I thought it was great and was planning a couple more runs with her during the week. Then I had an accident.
I was outlining some letters for the group to paint on our front compound wall. I was on the top step of a stepstool when its front feet sunk down into the dirt, lurching the stepstool forward, and I fell back. I fell right on my butt. I immediately started crying, it hurt so bad, and the woman who was out there swore that I fell on top of their aluminum water bottles.
My back/butt still hurts. Every day I've tested it out by a little jog across the parking lot, but running sends a shock in that spot every time a foot falls. So, of course, just as I was thinking that I really, really could get my heart back into running, this happens. When I CAN'T run, that's when I really want to. Bah!