Not some Olympic-level pro, but running was my thing for quite some time — my stress relief, my way to clear my head, and honestly, just an excuse to eat more kebab. I even managed to finish a half marathon once! That day? Absolute legend status in my book — proof that my legs and lungs could actually work together without plotting my downfall.
Then COVID hit, and boom — my running shoes gathered dust. Was it the change in routine? Lack of motivation? Who knows. To top it off, I went and dislocated my ankle, which benched me for half a year. No physio, no rehab — just me hoping my leg would magically fix itself (and it did, i think...).
But today... today I ran 1.9 kilometers. Sure, that’s not exactly record-breaking, but man, it felt like I’d just conquered Mount Everest. No pain, no awkward limping — just me, my shoes, and that sweet feeling of heck yeah, I’m back! I remembered why I loved this stuff — that zen state when your mind goes quiet, and your body’s just vibing along.
I know I’ve got work to do — rest days, strengthening exercises, and taking it slow. Once a week. Maybe twice. We'll see. But today reminded me of something important: I’m back on track. Not just on the pavement, but back to feeling like me.
And honestly? That’s pretty awesome.
