This is where I find myself most evenings, long after the kids have fallen asleep and the house has slipped into silence. I choose a music playlist or a show to watch, stretch, and I start to run. In the first few weeks I walked a lot, peppering my time with short bursts of running, but now it’s nearly half and half. At the end of my run, after I cool down, I lay on the floor next to the treadmill, stare at the ceiling and listen to my heart beating and my lungs breathing.

Six weeks ago I would lose my breathe climbing the steep and uneven stairs to my third floor office, a chore I had done for the better part of ten years. Tonight I went eight miles on the treadmill in 74 min 18 sec. There’s room for improvement, but I’m proud of my progress.