Flying with a friend

 Saturday morning almost felt like old times. When I lived in Charleston we would run at least 10 miles at 4am. This time we were running in Savannah. We ran at 7:20am, not 4am. And we split the half marathon, not 10 miles. Not even the bridge. I really miss those days. I am not running nearly as much as before. I am not clocking in 100+ miles per month anymore.

In fact, Saturday's race may have been my 6th or 7th run since being benched by my doctor in March. And yes, he consented for me to run this race. I was very hesitant when Annette asked me, but said I would.

Then I had to figure out how to train. Osteoarthritis is not always fun to run with. I started running 3-5 miles the last part of September. I got fitted for shoes since my stride is completely different than before. I rode my bike more, I do more yoga, and I am swimming. But to run better one needs to run.

Fortunately Annette did not care about the time or the pace. We did our best and we crossed the finish line standing up. We were not even the last people (at least I don't think we were, but I could be mistaken). No matter, we ran together something that we had not done in a couple of years. Something we took for granted while I lived in Charleston.

So this is our medal. We each got one, but it took both of us to run the race. I liked that. Teamwork. No stress. No drama. Just fun. Oh, my brother came as well. He did not run, he drove us to the race and cheered us on. Good times. This is the stuff memories are made of.