Sure, it was only 20 minutes. Sure, after the first 5 the adrenaline ran out and I was chugging along at 10 minute mile pace. But shall we just note one detail that trumps all of that? My heart did not burst out of my chest and leave me in a crumpled ball on the pavement, blood spurting everywhere and scaring some small child. And no, I don't actually truly really think it would happen PRECISELY like that. Mostly. But it didn't. And I survived my first post-surgery run in one piece. Madonna and Rihanna cheering me on. The post-rain spring air around me. The new leaves on the trees waving as if to say "You can dooooo iiiiit!!"
Yes folks, my blog has reached new lows in content, but alas, I am excited, and someone needs to know. And now, off to make my asparagus and couscous to accompany the pork tenderloin that has been cooking in the crock pot all day. Yeah, now you're jealous.