Once, twice, three times…

BIG week for me. I ran. I fuckin’ ran. Once. Then twice. I ran twice this week. And I’m gonna do it one more G-D time, to make it thrice.

BIG for me because about three months ago I thought I was a goner. As in dead. It’s a long story for another time but I had lung surgery and two failed procedures previous to the surgery. The second procedure almost killed me and then the surgery… well, my surgeon says I gave them quite a scare. I believe he also said it was “touch and go.” Great! This is what every unwed, childless gal, who drives a 2009 car wants to hear.

I’m still in recovery on every possible level and am grateful that I am healing. Proof is not only in the pudding, but also in my lungs. Coincidentally, I bought pudding (butterscotch!) today – like the six-year old I long to be. Actually, I do not long to be six again – bad year.

I’ve been a runner since I was a kid (not a six-year old kid, more like 11) and sometimes I excel, and sometimes I freakin’ suck at it, but it’s so good to have running, and my life back.

 

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