Before last night, I hadn't gone running outside since...when was it the police were chasing me last? April? I don't know. It'd been a long time. And I was never a serious runner -- the most I've ever run is a 5K -- but it didn't take long for me to get back into a comfortable breathing pattern and settle in, even if it hurt some. The biggest problem was a couple of unshoveled blocks that made me fear for my knees, but I just jog-walked there. Well, there was also the wound on my foot. I'm a barefoot type around the house (and, if I'm being honest, just about everywhere it's allowed, except on dance floors and formal parties) so as I was walking around the kitchen, I somehow managed to step on a piece of flat, sharp metal about 1/16" square and of unknown provenance in a way that drove it straight up into my right heel, creating a 1/4" cut. It didn't hurt much after I pulled out the metal (hurt like a sonofabitch going in, though) but gracious, did it bleed. By the time it stopped bleeding the kitchen floor looked like Susan Atkins had taken a stroll across it. I figured that since the cut was so small, it wouldn't be a problem for a short run, and it wasn't -- until this morning, when it's making walk all gimpy.
Beyond the festering heel, I am a little sore today -- my shins and my hips, in particular -- but it's the mildly pleasant soreness of righteousness, so it's cool. Tonight is definitely a yoga night, though, because I have more errands to run on lunch...though these are mostly errands, I am slowly realizing, of my own making. Errands of avoidance? Perhaps.
One last note: I did call for a tour of the fitness center, which I will be taking tomorrow.
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