Normally when I run, I get to explore the picturesque country roads that surround our house. I had planned quite an important run for yesterday and the weather was supposed to be clear and sunny; however, the weather was absolutely miserable. It was 10 degrees, pouring with rain and there was an icy wind, not ideal training, let alone anything, weather. It wasn’t exactly the conditions I was planning on but I laced up anyways. I might have gotten a few stares from some locals since I never see any runners around but they were probably saying “Qu’est-ce que c’est?!” because, not only was I running in horrendous weather, I was smiling.
It’s been almost 6 weeks since I pulled my hamstring. Six very long, frustrating, and frightening weeks. While part of me has just wanted to live under a duvet, watching sad movies and eating Nutella right out of the jar, the better side of me has become consumed with rehab. Other than doing butt clenches twice a day (no joke), part of rehab has been new goals. A month ago I set a goal to be able to run for 1km without walking and it seemed, not only silly since I was gearing up to run a half marathon not too long ago, but distant and at times unachievable.
Yesterday, not only did I run for 1km straight, but in total I ran 7 kilometres. It was only ten days ago I checked off the big 1-K milestone and I have been building on it ever since doing sets of 1km of running followed by 500m of walking. So, there I was, on a back nowhere farm road in France, bundled up but freezing cold, soaked with rain, lost at one point, covered in mud, and all smiles because nothing was going to rain on my run/walk parade. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it Mr. Pulled Hamstring…I’m (almost) back!