Sarah Jackson: Letters to my life: health

Dear sweaty, burn-inducing Workouts,

You're one of my favorite things. Right up there with symphonies, sunsets, and Spanish-speaking countries.

Love,

Sore Sarah

Dear Matt. P.,

Do you remember the day our college track team sprinted hill repeats until almost all of us collapsed and then barfed? (Oh wait. That was every day.) And do you remember how it sort of felt like we were on the brink of death after that workout? And do you remember how I didn't barf because I was having a rare asthma attack? And do you remember how you were leaning over the gutter, dizzy and exhausted, when you realized I was having an attack? And do you remember how you sprinted down that 300-meter hill, got my inhaler, and sprinted up again to get it to me? That required superhuman strength.

I was remembering that this week. It made me smile.

Love,

Still-smiling Sarah

Dear February,

You've been a magical month. Since that first day you took over time-keeping for January, I've felt better than I've felt in years. Like, 100% HEALTHY better.

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Love,

And-I-just-keep-pinching-my-healthy-self Sarah

Dear healthy Body,

I love you, and I've missed you, and I love you, and I've missed you, and I love you, and I've missed you, and I love you times one million zillion.

Love,

Dear Jesus,

I wish I could throw my arms around you, and rest my head on your chest, and whisper thanks in your ear. But instead I'll just whisper 'thank you,' from where I sit, for this month of health, and I'll look forward to a big ol' bear hug in heaven.

Love,

Your Sarah