The week after

CMan had to fireman carry me up two flights of stairs on our first night home. Stairs were my enemies for days. I walked backwards down the subway stairs when no escalator was available to the great amusement of fellow commuters. I walked like a penguin til Wednesday. I finally got a massage on Thursday afternoon. I enjoyed telling anyone who would listen that I did what I set out to do, finish the marathon. I emailed the marathonfoto link around. I wore my new favorite shirt, the Chicago Marathon half-zippy, every other day because not only does it physcially keep me warm in The Office, but reminds me of how much fun I had doing what I thought was impossible nearly a year ago.

I have eagarly read and enjoyed the race reports, the aftermaths, of all my Chicago training partners.

I have taken the entire week to enjoy not running. I haven't thought about when my next run will be -- I haven't even taken my shoes out of my carry-on luggage. I've also spent the entire week indulging in everything I have eliminated or greatly reduced during training. After work on Wednesday I had my first beer since my sister's Kentucky wedding reception on the July holiday weekend (I don't know why I waited so long after the marathon!) I had more white wine than my poor confused body could handle at my cousin's wedding last night. I have had french fries at nearly every meal, McDonald's twice in consecutive days, and more dessert than I care to admit (especially to my doctor).

And that brings us to the question that's been asked over and over again this week.
"What's next?"

Still thinking about it....