I promised myself I would take ample time off after the Boston Marathon; at least one week of no running followed by at least two weeks of minimal running. I was planning for the physical recovery, but the mental recovery has turned out to be a longer process than I anticipated.
Not to insinuate that there is a positive spin to what happened, but in a sense, the need for an emotional cleanse has kept my ambition in check. I have a habit of jipping the recovery process. In the past, this has resulted in a broken foot and an inflamed IT band that according to one doctor, "looked like a Christmas tree" on the MRI. Both injuries have called for much more time off than I should have taken immediately after the marathon. But, what happened on April 15th put running in perspective.
|I've enjoyed going for walks since the race. We found Tanya while walking near the reservoir in Central Park.|
Tragedies have a way of making you appreciate the basics. In this case that's the ability to run when I want, where I want and with who I want. No one has taken running away from me like they did from hundreds of people who came to the Boston Marathon for the sheer joy of spectating at a road race. There will be plenty of time to live by the Garmin and cheat unconsciousness in a workout meant to push physical limitation, but I consider myself fortunate to be able to control when and if I will start doing that again by the choices I make now.
Until then, If I'd rather go for a walk, or sit in the sun and read the paper, drink a beer or three or hell, eat peanut butter right out of the jar until I can't stomach it anymore, I'll do that instead.