It wasn't pretty and certainly not fast. The last three miles hurt (see last sentence below) but I was haunted by the smirk on the doctor's face when I told him my goals for recovery. There is hardly a better incentive than to have somebody doubt you. In fact, I am still angry, so maybe I will run it again. Even in my pathetic state, I could take him.
Other milestones from yesterday's marathon of fun at the hospital: getting stuck for blood for the 50th time, not including those from the port inbedded in my chest. And... bone marrow biopsy number six, this time with an electric drill for added comfort. Not.