Metro to Mountain Journal

I have been sick for four weeks. Two weeks I was hospital or bed ridden and the other two weeks, I walked the dog three times a day and rode my bike for errands. Apparently it was not enough exercise.

In the last thirty years I have not been sick. Sure, I had a few minor bugs, but never sick enough that I went to a doctor. During the twenty-five years I probably averaged running five days a week and wore well over a hundred pair of running shoes. I am not skin and bones but I am fairly fit or at least I was.

Wednesday, I finally tried to run. I took the dog and made a big excursion of two miles. My lungs still hurt a bit from pneumonia but I felt better than I had for a month. At least I did not have to walk any of the rolling hills.

Thursday, I awoke sore, but felt pretty good overall. For the days run I decided to run longer if I felt like it. At the turn around point I felt good and continued. I was tired at the end of the run but felt pretty good overall.

This morning, Friday, I awoke to misery. My legs were so sore I did not think I was going to be able to get out of bed. Doing triage I found that my hips hurt, my quads hurt, my hamstrings hurt, my calves hurt, and my feet hurt. What in the world was going on? I hobbled down the steps this morning and thought I was going to die. In four weeks my muscles atrophied to the point I was barely able to walk? How could that be?

My wife was amused by my predicament claiming payback for all the times that I scoffed at other people being sore from a workout or run. My lack of sympathy to others in pain had turned on me as she poked and asked, "does it hurt there?"

I am humbled, but I will run today, maybe a little limpy, and tomorrow, and ....