Today is Friday, Good Friday. But it's only been a sort of good Friday.
The best part of the day was waking up and not cringing in pain as I stepped onto the floor. Thank goodness for the cortisone shot that has alleviated the agony that has crippled my running for nearly a year. My hope is that my foot guru knows what he's dealing with, and who he is dealing with. Knowing that I cannot run regularly has only forced me to ride harder and longer, to lift more, to swim with greater purpose.
The upshot is that I feel that my fitness level has improved. The downside is that I feel a great sense of loss, for running is the sport that releases me the most, the time where I can run past the fields and breathe in the smells of the land, when wind and hills serve to challenge me as I try to sort out ideas and scripts.
So that was the good side of Friday, not feeling as though a penny nail shot into my heel.
The bad side was that the girls did nothing more than fight and cry, and to this I do not exaggerate. As an only girl, I never had the chance to share my life with a sister, which is probably why I have forged so many close bonds with my friends. They are my sisters of soul.
So watching and listening to these closest of siblings push, punch, bite, yell is nothing short of disconcerting. Never have I wanted to run so desperately, to escape this anger and frustration that spews from tiny women. How do I convince them to let go of such material objects, that having each other is a gift, that to have this closeness is something that's irreplaceable? This I do not know. But it is a goal worth having.