I woke up this morning at 2:40, after dropping off to sleep sometime just before 11. My eye was dry. I fixed it and couldn't get back to sleep. I tried snuggling Preston. I tried counting the seconds. I tried petting a purring kitty. I finally decided to get up at my normal exercise time (4:30ish) and go for a walk. Best. Idea. Ever.
It was a rather cool morning, and not raining, and I decided to just walk up and down my street (about .1 mi. each direction) in case anything medically weird went down. It didn't. I walked back and forth, back and forth, and then at the end of the 5th lap I thought it wouldn't hurt to run for half a lap or so, would it? Running felt so incredibly good. My face broke into half a smile and I felt like I could leap over the moon. I was instantly justifying running the next two odd numbered laps, which I did, to no less elation.
Then today at the neurologist's office, she told me it would be ok for me to continue on my normal exercise. After she told me that I'd be like this from 3-6 months. But still, my mind might not break knowing that I can still do good for my body. I can still push myself. I can still have goals. And the road doesn't care what I look like. And the darkness hides my twisted face. And at least it will be twisted into a half smile.
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