Sometimes I worry that I’ve forgotten how to run.
I imagine stepping outside, setting my watch, and taking a first step only to fall over as my legs move awkwardly forward. It’s a ridiculous concern and a symptom of my tendency to over-think things. Or, as le most excellent boyfriend would say, “classic Alex”.
This has never actually happened. The more likely event is that I forget that I like running. Yesterday I was scheduled to have my first run back after the marathon. I had a solid week completely off, I was only planning on running 2 or 3 miles, and yet I absolutely, grumpily, did not want to.
Then I realized that perhaps my brain and body were just having a negative reaction because last time we ran, it hurt us very much. So I ditched the watch and decided to run to the running store and back to buy le most excellent boyfriend a present (somewhere around 2.5 miles roundtrip). I have no idea how fast I went, but at no point did it hurt. I jumped in a puddle, sprinted to make a crosswalk light, and jogged really slowly when I felt like it. It was so wonderful. And I remembered how to run just fine.