This one's for you, Sherry Arnold...

It's been a tough week. Bronchitis. Sinusitis. A steroid shot (WOOT!). Antibiotics. Prescription cough suppressants. I had a decent twelve-mile run last Sunday (albeit slightly painful from some rather awkward chafing), and that has been it for running miles this week. (The irony of my last post is not lost on me. There are times when toughing it out, though, is dumber than hitting the couch.) So I did the 12 mile to couch training program for the week.

This morning was the virtual run for Sherry Arnold, so I layered up, put on my race belt in Sherry's honor, and headed out the door. It was the coldest day of the winter here so far (at least in my memory).  And I'd like to write about this run with some level of clarity, but I just don't have it. I kept thinking about how uncomfortable I was. Several times, I doubled over next to the road to cough. I couldn't quite figure out the right combination of layers for my head. My sunglasses kept fogging up. My feet were numb. I just couldn't get it together. But I ran.

And then I got to come back home. And that's the one thing that struck me on this run. I got to come back home. Sherry Arnold didn't. So while it wasn't the run that I thought I'd be having today, this run was for you, Sherry.