"Recovering," not "Recovered"

Holy Saturday, out for a pre-vigil run. The goal: 13 miles — a bit of a push given my recovery, but where I need to be if I want to run the San Diego Marathon in June, so I decide to go for it. For me, 13 miles consists of five 2.6 mile-laps beginning and ending at my front door and looping through the hills of my California small town. On loops one through three, I took things fairly slowly, wanting to stay fresh for the end. But 7.8 miles into the run, I felt great. I had lots of energy left, easily enough to power through two more loops (my usual run). So I decided to step it up, in an effort to boost my time.

True, I had felt some tenderness in my left knee, but it was very slight. That was a little discouraging. The injury hadn’t surfaced in nearly a week or two, and I thought it was safely behind me. But the tenderness was minor, so I didn’t let it bother me.

But at 9 miles, it came back in full force, and I was forced to end the 13-miler short. I had been praying for clarity on whether I should run the San Diego Marathon or not, and I suspect this may have been the answer I was seeking — albeit not the answer I wanted. We’ll see. I need to compare how the knee feels against what the training schedule demands. But I have a hunch that what was supposed to be L.A. in March, and then became San Diego in June, might soon become San Francisco in July.

Still, no complaints. It was a beautiful vigil that night, in which we welcomed the glorious Easter season. We took the whole family to that late Mass, and two of the kids even stayed awake! Easter Sunday consisted of lots of relaxation, chocolate, and gratitude.

He is risen, alleluia, alleluia!

Alleluia, alleluia, He is risen!