Remember in the spring when I was talking about having a one day limp? Oh, are you new? Here’s my limp story.
I did not like the limp. It made me feel self conscious and physically uncomfortable and way too aware of what might be coming down the pike. I had that limp after running a little bit the previous day. Even though I actually have no idea if the jog was the cause, that’s what I’ve been blaming it on.
As a result, I’ve been super careful not to exhaust my legs since then. I play soccer with John in the backyard, but otherwise I walk pretty sedately around town, constantly checking myself for weakness or the telltale hitch in my step. And I haven’t really walked any farther than into town and back. I’ve been feeling like I either shouldn’t or couldn’t do more.
Last Sunday, I took a long walk with Matt and John. Longer than I intended, in fact. We went up to Silver Lake and it was about a mile and a half (I’m guessing?) to the lake, and it was definitely up. And obviously we came back down. I didn’t know how far it would be until we got there. But we were there, so we did it.
And guess what: it was fine! Completely fine. Fine walking up, fine walking down, and absolutely fine the next day. And the next day. No limp.
A three mile walk in the woods. It may not seem like a really big deal, but to me it’s plenty big. It reminds me that I’m fine. It reminds me that while there may come a time when I can’t do some things, that time is not right now. It reminds me to assume the best, not the worst, and to opt for giving things a try.
I feel like a weight has been lifted, and it’s one that I didn’t realize I was carrying around.