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The floor felt good. I took a moment to just breathe. To feel each breath crash and recede like the tide upon the shore. To feel the warmth still in my muscles. To let my eyes go out of focus and wait for constellations to emerge from the stipple on our ceilings. To absorb the effort. To pause. You see, I’ve been at it for nine-and-a-half weeks now. I started slow, just a few easy miles every other day to get the feeling back. But once it started, the bus – as it were – hadn’t stopped. My coach piled on more miles each week, methodically and purposefully. He added in various hill rep