Yesterday I decided to try my weekly long run. I was about 60 hours post-op and while still swollen and sore at the site of the surgery, otherwise felt pretty good. I ventured out around 5:30 a.m. for my first 14 miler since last fall and was quickly rewarded for my efforts. Within the first mile I noticed the sun peaking up over Lake Superior with a bright orange glow . . . the beauty of the lights pushing its way through the towers of the ore dock out over the Lake. The geese were honking and the dandelions that had gone to seed created a white haze just over the grass. It was a cloudy morning so I was treated to bright orange and pink streaks across the sky and felt somehow that it was a sign. I wouldn't necessarily call it a religious moment, but somehow I just felt that God was telling me it's going to be okay. I don't normally get "deep" while running so don't expect this to be the tone of the rest of this blog, but at that moment I felt some peace.
The remainder of the run was pleasant: comfortable temperatures with the rain holding off until after I was done, a dozen deer at Presque Isle (a few close enough that I could have reached out and touched), a couple of mallards in a small stream behind the high school, a woodpecker pecking away, little traffic and for the most part the bike path all to myself. Really, it doesn't get much better than that.
I would say that the sign was accurate in that if nothing else I successfully, comfortably, and at a decent pace even, completed the 14 miles. Yes, I was sore. But I did it. And that made me quite happy.