Its late, and I should be sleeping.

But the fact is, I have to record this.  I’ve just completed two weeks of training, and today was a very special day (more on that below).

It is an inexact science, figuring out the threshold of how much to push the body after four months off with nationals right around the corner.  For two weeks, I’ve run entirely based on how I’ve felt.  No iron-clad training plan.  No goals.  No preconceptions about what might be too little (or even too much) to do on my foot.  Just me and Dr. Ball and Coach Row,  doing the best we can with what my body will allow day to day.

Turns out this body has allowed two weeks of 6 day training, and mileage totals of 45 and 54.

I sit here with mixed emotions.  I’m thrilled as can be, of course, and I’d like to say I am filled only with gratitude, now that I’m able to do what I love most, but a few other emotions swell and subside within me:

  • Determination to get out and kick my own ass for the next 8 weeks to give myself a chance to make the World team.
  • melancholy because I know it is a far reach to turn this season around, and I just might not be able to pull it off.
  • excitement because no matter what the future holds, I get to run a hard workout in the morning because I’m healthy enough to do it
  • scared because my foot still isn’t perfect but there is no more time to waste.

But all of that is just stuff.  I know that now.  It will continue to flow through me and I will continue to acknowledge it and let it pass.  The only stuff worth hanging on to is the good feelings, and finally I am getting to feel those again.

So where am I now?

My foot sits in an ice bucket but my mind is elsewhere.  After two weeks of awkward limb-flailing and lung spasms, a miracle happened.  Four short hours ago, I was running free.  My body floated across the grass path as twilight set in over a pond-studded Phoenix greenway.  As I passed behind two fishermen, I suddenly noticed that my feet hardly made a sound, and my breath was nearly inaudible.  My body was moving like music, with the grass as my percussion.  A child peaked over his fence to watch me fly past, and from his expression I knew that I looked different somehow through his eyes.

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Here is a interview done with Flotrack where I talk about what I’ve been going through, and share some perspective and lessons learned. Please share your thoughts.

Watch more video of Flotrack’s Spring Trip To Arizona on flotrack.org