I ran two miles today. This is the first time I have run since my accident on Easter '09.
But, you knew that. You orchestrated the overwhelming fatigue that washed over me when I tried and failed to do basic household chores (dishes, laundry) and tedious paperwork. You made me sleep for 15 hours a day. You steeped me in anxieties and fear, and you tore apart my self esteem. I clung to my small victories, those minute glimmers of promise.. and you would retaliate in another way, dragging me back and reminding me that for every small parcel I reclaimed, there are a hundred more pieces of me that you had in your possession.
Today, it was different. As the golden hour hit Boston and set the December trees on fire, I pushed up a hill... and then I pushed up another. Emboldened by the lack of fear (of falling), my strides became longer and quicker. A whisper of a meditation of hope turned into a war cry.
I may be slow right now, but I am determined. And I will overcome you. And while I know I still have to play by some of your rules, know this....
It's on, you miserable son of a bitch.
.....
further proof of asskickitude (click for larger):
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1 comment:
Glad to know that you're getting on in your recovery. Take care and have a blessed Christmas!
Warmly, Su
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