Last night, I set out some goals for October. I’ll be writing more about those later, but suffice it to say that one of my goals was to get more exercise, an area in which I’ve been remarkably lax recently. This morning, I ran for the first time in well over a year, and I feel fantastic.
I’ve always been a bit of a runner. I don’t run races, I just happen to enjoy running, and it’s pretty much been my exercise of choice ever since I can remember. Around a year and a half ago I was working on increasing my distance. I was up to running 10 km when the pain started – sharp, shooting pain through my right hip and groin that kept me largely off my feet for a day or more after a run. Then, it started happening when I walked. When a few weeks of rest didn’t fix it, I went to my doctor. Two more doctors, a physiotherapist, a massage therapist, three diagnoses, and three exercise prescriptions later, I was no better than when I started. I also had a dissertation to finish and not a lot of time, so I just stopped running completely.
This last week I decided that enough was enough. I love to run. It’s my favourite exercise, and I find it does so much more for me than anything else. After a walk or a bike ride I feel reasonably good. After a run, I feel like I can take on the world. I desperately want to get back to it, at least until the snow starts, and so I’m going to start very slowly, do a lot of the stretching and exercises that I was prescribed, add in some yoga, and generally keep a close eye on myself as I try to either not re-injure myself or heal what remains of the old injury. After this morning, I think this is the right choice. I’ve missed this – possibly even more than I realised – and when I came home, even after just 3 km, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
Cue the Rocky theme – I’m ready to go again.