Thursday: Run 8 miles
Friday: Swim 3,200 yards
I got a weird glimmer this week of what it might be like to actually be in shape, and a hint that I'm getting there. First off, I was extremely disappointed that I ended up being glued to my desk all day Wednesday—because I'm starting to miss my actual family, but also because I was stir crazy after two full days of rest and wanted to get the the gym. Those hard workouts I dreaded last week sounded like just what I needed.
I know! Weird, right?
Then I went to physical therapy on Thursday, and Dan told me I was ready to "graduate" if I wanted. I still need to work on strengthening my hip and stretching my IT band (and I still have to refrain from sleeping on my right side), but I can handle it on my own from this point, and I'm basically cured. As if to prove it, I immediately headed to the gym for a wonderful, pain-free nearly two hours on the treadmill. I felt fabulous afterward. Like I had maybe 4 more miles in me before it was going to feel like a "long" run (slash walk).
I seem to remember from my swimming days that being in shape is its own reward. If I can just get my life to cooperate with my workout plans, I think I can make it happen.