Another Reason To Drink

I am writing this on the plane to Massachusetts. The last three days have been a crazy blur of good and bad. I ran a 5K on Saturday morning. I love to race, the excitement at the start and earning my time. My target was to break 24 minutes, which I did, but I had to really push it. The rest of the day I felt energized with that glow you only get after a hard run. Later, I got to spend some time with Melanie. We went to the movies. It is always such a treat when one of your teenagers grants you an audience.

Late Saturday the left achilles started to hurt. This was the only thing I have feared this summer, getting an injury, that and Paris going back to jail. A serious injury would ruin my summer, and any chance of doing well at AFC this August.

Sunday, Laura and I went to Coronado, paradise. I thought I would test out the leg and if the pain got worse, I would stop. It never got worse, until latter. It got much worse; I was barely able to walk. I saw the whole summer flashing before my eyes, instead of glorious days training in the sunshine, I would be laid up in my apartment with a bag of ice and a bottle of Tequila. Uck. A serious funk set in.

Today, getting under way to the trip back east to visit the family, the pain seems to have some how vanished. It must have been the medicinal Tequila. I am holding off running until next Sunday, when my summer fate will be decided.