It's nearly 5 a.m. I've been browsing running websites and shooting out messages to my summer training group for the past 3 hours. I'm anxious.
Two days ago, I had surgery to repair my injured leg. I haven't run competitively in over 2 years, an amount of time that still seems unfathomable to a man who has put in more thousands of miles over the years than he cares to think about at the moment.
But now my injury is repaired. I will run again next month once my leg has healed, and I will have the entire summer to train for an eventual return to racing. It will be a difficult road to recovery. I am fat. I am slow. I have lost all of the fitness I built up through 3 years of high mileage training. But I have not lost the drive to run faster, further, and harder than ever before.
I'm filled with countless emotions. I'm excited to run and to be fit. I'm nervous that I won't be able to get into shape or that the surgery will not work. I'm angry at two years and seven seasons wasted. All of these feelings jumble together in my mind. There is only one way to sort them out: mile by mile on the trails this summer.
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