I am not a patient person. It's one of my worst flaws. It's something I've been working on all my life, and particularly now that I have children. But, it's a constant battle. It's now been three weeks since I fell off a chair and bruised my ribs. For two long weeks I waited (impatiently, I'll admit) for the pain to subside so I could run again. Last week I got back out on the road, probably sooner than I should have, but I'm impatient. It was no surprise that I wouldn't be able to start right out of the gate and feel as good as I did before the fall, though I secretly hoped that might be the case. The first few runs were slow and uncomfortable. I was still sore and my legs were getting used to running again after the time off. It was extremely frustrating and there was nothing I could do about it. I just had to be patient. Before I fell, I had been successfully following a training plan created by a coach who was helping me break a specific time for a 5K in August. When I checked in with him last week he suggested I start over and re-set my goal and race date rather than pick up where I left off. He knew I was frustrated but the bottom line, he explained, was that I needed to take my time, do it right and, yes, be patient. It's now the start of week four and I'm still fighting my way back to a normal routine. Today, I happened to be walking my dog, head down, music on, annoyed about my physical situation, when she stopped abruptly to smell something. I looked up and noticed something dangling right in front of my face (see pic). I smiled and said out loud to myself and anyone else who was listening, "ok, I get it. Thanks for the sign."