“Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.” -Marilyn Monroe

Ladies and Gentlemen (Mom and Dad): This a.m. I saw a camel, turkey vulture, sheep and a kangaroo! And I’m still in London…the London Zoo of course! Hardly worth the 19 pounds to get in, but definitely worth getting lost in Regents Park for 2 hours to the worry of my suitemates (I spend at least half of my life a little bit lost) who very sweetly called my mobile, which I also spend at least half of my life not answering.

TODAY WAS MY FIRST RUN IN THREE MONTHS! On November 12^th (two days before Elise’s 21^st) I took a nice 7:30 a.m. spill onto the pavement and knocked myself up with a HAPPY FRIDAY concussion and two boo-boos. Just one week later I was back in the health center with pneumonia. And three weeks later I was home on the couch missing the last half of the semester.

Needless to say running (never mind stairs, walking or long phone conversations) was out of the question. At first I was horrified…

The first thing Mom told me on the phone when I broke the pneumonia news was NO RUNNING. I don’t think she realized I needed Stephanie’s help to open the Gatorade bottle without reaching for the cough meds.

I thought I’d be bitter and depressed and manic. I thought I’d lace up my sneakers two weeks too early. I thought I’d lay in bed strategizing how to sneak out the door without Mom noticing. Or just how to open the door without losing my breath.

But I needed the recovery and fully embraced it. My muscle (this should be in quotations) got softer. My Irish cheeks got fuller and redder. My stories got a little shorter. But I recovered. 

I ran for fifteen minutes through the park. Just fifteen. But after not being able to get out of bed for more than 3 hours a day, fifteen felt like a marathon. It felt like an accomplishment.  

Where’s Scholastic at…I’m getting this story published.