Slow.

I've never run this slowly in my life.

It's a blow to my pride, even though I'm running down in the basement on my treadmill and no one can see me or judge me. I'm torn between wanting to be faster ... and not caring. The rational part of me knows that I have to run-- however slowly-- now, if I want to be faster later. So it's just part of the process.

But it's just so inefficient!

Still, I'm grateful to be healthy and able to run. And grateful to be able to run at 10:30 at night, safely, with my baby parked next to the treadmill.

I ran four miles last night -- ever so slowly-- and it was a psychological triumph. I wasn't sure I could do it. I'm still not in shape, and my left knee's been hurting a bit. So I just kept the pace easy and kept on going. I haven't run this far in three years.

It wasn't fun last night, but I'm feeling proud today.