Back in the saddle

Although this marathon recovery has been pretty quick and painless (I was running a day later and have only an annoying blister to contend with), it has been most rewarding for one important reason. For the last couple of months, I’ve watched wistfully from the side of the roads as the Central Park cyclists spun past me, enjoying the early spring weather. Not wanting to risk injury in the few weeks before the race, I’ve kept my cross-training to the aquatic variety and left my little red Giant parked.

But with nothing left to fear, I was thrilled to get back on my bike twice so far this week (in fact, the first morning I was so excited that I actually dreamed about riding my bike and woke up well before 5:30 am, waiting for the alarm to go off). There is some part of me that knows, deep down, that if running were not so darn convenient and flexible, I might be training for centuries rather than marathons.

It feels good to be back in the saddle. (My head, at least, knows this; my butt remains to be convinced.)