Eleven months ago today I had surgery to repair the interstitial tears in my right Achilles. 

All went well.  In fact, all went great.

My orthopedist is amazing as were my physical therapists.   Amazing.

They were so good, so great, that “amazing” is actual an understatement.

I feel great, I’m running strong.  There is no pain.  All is terrific.

***

I was running with one of my dearest friends a few weeks ago.  He kept asking, “How’s the Achilles?”  I told him it was fine.  He kept insisting, “How is it, really?”

It’s great.  It really is great.

I have come so far that I don’t even think about it.  That, in and of itself is a miracle.  For years, as much as I tried to ignore the pain in my Achilles, that’s all I thought about… it was always on my mind – each step I took, each time I stood up, while standing.  I was injured for a long time.  A long long time.

I’m proud of myself for batting through it – for years.

I’m proud that I ran the 2018 NYC Marathon with the tears in my Achilles.  (Yeah, I’m tough.  Tougher than nails.)

But, boy I am I happy that I don’t have that pain any longer, and that I don’t have to think about it all day every day.  

I feel great, I’m running strong.  There is no pain.  All is terrific.

***

Except…

Except for what I now call “The Elusive 20.”

I’m not (yet) as tough as I think I am.

***

After the surgery, I began running in earnest in April of this year.  That first week I ran a grand total of one mile.  The next week, I pushed it to 2.38 miles, and then, the week after, to 3.0.

By the third week of May, my weekly miles were up to 8.25 miles.  (This was progress, slow progress, but progress nonetheless.)

I had my first 10-mile week in June.  The first week of July, I was up to 13.4 miles.  

August brought me a 15-mile week, and then two weeks later an 18.75 mile week.  

And, for whatever reason…I can’t get past that.  I can’t get to a 20-mile week.

And it’s not because I’m not trying.  Boy am I trying.

It’s just not happening. 

***

Covid-19 has slowed the world down.  Everything is different.  Nothing is the same.  Everything is strange.  Nothing is normal.

I’m a school principal.  I’m working the craziest hours I ever have as I deal with things I never have.  
I have always worked 24/7 and I’ve always given the job all of me, but, even after leading schools for 23+ years, I’m dealing with things and situations and concerns and such that have never before even been thoughts.  All is going extremely well, but it hasn’t been easy.  It’s been great, I have the most wonderful school, but juggling all of everything, has become a 48-hour a day job in many regards.
This, plus the many other things I juggle on a daily basis, has left me with less time to run.

But I’m trying.  

I thought I’d be at at least 20-miles a week by now.  

But the best week I could muster in October was 13.2.

I came back stronger in November with two 18+ miles weeks, but I couldn’t even get to 19, let alone 20.

UGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!

***

Last week I thought I had it.  I was strong, focused and able.  

But I only made it to 17.5 total miles.

The problem is that I don’t have the sustained energy for longer runs yet.  That, along with the need, sometimes, for multiple days off between runs keeps leaving me short.

Still, I am determined to get there.  I think that once I get to that mark, twenty miles a week, I can really start to fly.

***

My recovery, as far as being able to accumulate miles in bunches, is slower than I’d like at this point, but I’m making progress.

That 20-mile week is just around the corner.

I feel great, I’m running strong.  There is no pain.  All is terrific.