As the title of this post implies, the comeback to form is slow, especially with running. My body remembers how easily it used to glide and soar along the trails and roads that it now struggles to maintain an even pace on. Each day does get a little easier, though not without those days of struggle. I go on these runs, often by myself, and constantly think about where I used to be. I used to be truly fit. Even still, I don’t get down. Instead I remember the process, and am encouraged that I know I can get back to and beyond the level I used to be. On the road to Boston, if I really want to get there, I know I have no choice.
It’s also a sobering fact for life too. As I’ve been battling with my depression, I’m reminded of the process and lessons that running teaches us. I know I will have good and bad days, but I know that things are slowly inproving. Slowly, I’m getting my life back. Slowly, I return to my familiar self that loved life, and not the one that is scared of it.