Don't call it a comeback

Today I felt good. I felt strong and I felt ready to start rustling up some endorphins. Although I hate the dreadmill more than anything I figured it was smarter to give my first post-surgical go at exercise near a phone with a fixed location should 9-1-1 be required. My original plan was to walk. But I opened the box of new running sneakers bought just before surgery to check them out. The final verdict isn't in but the Adidas Supernova Adapt seems to be a reasonable facsimile to the Supernova Classic that I've mourned for a year now. I got so excited about my new kicks that after walking on the treadmill for 5 minutes I did a little gut check (like that? gut check?) and decided I could *try* doing 1 minutes of jogging (I can't, in good faith, call it running) to every 2 minutes of walking. I started out like that once before, why not again?

I did my first mile like that and while I felt myself running sort of doubled over to protect my stomach (same exact thing after the gallbladder) and while I felt like I was jiggling myself in ways my body hasn't felt in a few weeks, I didn't feel acute pain or like something was going to break. Plus I had the binder on (which needs a date with some febreze, BTW) so I felt a little confident going into my second mile to even the intervals to 2 minutes jogging and 2 minutes walking.

Surprisingly, I wasn't winded. It wasn't that that made me look forward to the end of each interval, it was the tenderness and a little fear of what my abdomen muscles were feeling. My legs felt strong. I felt strong.

I did my third mile with 3 minutes jogging (although I had moved up to 5 mph by that point -- I know, not exactly breaking the sound barrier but it was a good first effort) to every 2 minutes of walking. I felt like I could have gone longer and I really, really wanted to but I figured 45 minutes the first time out was a good stopping point. And here you are:



3.17 miles. Not bad coming off major surgery and 4 weeks to the day since my last workout. I am trying not to let the knowledge that those 3.17 miles on a treadmill is equivalent to about a half mile of the Tough Mudder course ruin my day but, again, we all have to start somewhere. A few more sessions like that, a little more confidence gained, and I'll be back on the trail and the road where I love it best.

I feel strong and happy today. About damned time.