Black Lines

I should have been in Phuket today.  Right this very minute, I should be running towards the finish line.

Or, I could have been participating in my 3rd triathlon, Animo Tri at Ayala Alabang this morning.  Lord knows how hard I trained for the swim portion of that race.

Or, I could have spent my Sunday morning the way I usually do for the past five years, running long and slow in the company of friends.  By now, we should be finishing up a run and heading for a sumptuous breakfast. I can almost smell the coffee.

But, here I am at home patiently waiting for my house guest, Morton Schmorton Neuroma, to get his lazy butt off our couch and head back to wherever he came from.

It’s been 17 days since my last run.  Yes, I’m getting impatient and frustrated. Ako pa?! But, swimming has kept me sane for the past week.  I’m not freaking out because I’m getting some training in with the swim.  At least, I’m not completely losing fitness.  But, there’s also something about the water that’s keeping me calm. Maybe it’s about following nothing but black lines from end to end in complete solitude and silence that’s given me some sense of peace.  Maybe it’s the fact that I feel I’m progressing with a new activity (I can swim 1k now with ease. Me? Who would’ve thought?) that’s distracting me from this long road to recovery.  Maybe I’ve finally matured as a runner and accepted the fact that there will be set backs like this every once in a while.  Whatever.  For now, I’m just going to be following those black lines under the pool and hope it takes me somewhere.