After mass this morning, the priest said, "Hey Thor! You're in the paper." Fr. Tom hands me a copy of the little hometown Frankenmuth newspaper and sure enough, on the front page, I'm listed as the fifth place finisher of the Winterslauf. It is sort of novel to be in the local paper, and even more touching to have Fr. Tom notice. Part of me wonders if they only would have mentioned runners in 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place if more were going on around town.
This morning I went for a run and it felt pretty good. Not amazing, but pretty good. Considering how I couldn't walk when the injury first happened, spending two weeks off my feet seems like a small price to pay to get going again.
That said, even after two weeks it felt a little more difficult to get out the door.
Where are my mittens?
Where's my hat?
Should I eat a banana before I go?
Small little things, but clear signs of being out of rhythm. With a small covering of wet snow, I'm not sure no one would have blamed me if I stayed inside "one more day". Mind over matter got me out the door. I'm conscious of the fact that I am going to feel sluggish these first few runs back on my feet. I need to resign myself to this feeling and do it anyway. It's a marathon, not a sprint.
