having read Irish John's excellent account of his inaugural run a year ago and his consistent progress since, I remembered that June 1st 2016 was an auspicious day for me too, but for quite the opposite reasons.
I was the fittest I have ever been in my life and then woke up to find the doctors had plugged me in to every machine on Earth and pulled the plug on my doing any kind of exercise. No running. No lifting. No nothing.
I am not entirely sure if I am proud or ashamed to report that my first question was "when can I start training again?" It's probably a good thing they didnt answer me directly as I think the truth would have finished me off at that time.
However. there is a happy ending to this tale: now a year on and I am back out there, pumping iron and pounding pavements, with the blessing of my cardiologist. It is a tremendously long road to get back to anywhere near the fitness I had before, and I a finding it much harder work and more frustrating than first time round 
I think when you are starting firness from scratch it is all exciting because every new time, distance weight achieved is a new PB, whereas coming back each new notch is still woefully below where you think you should be) but I appreciate every minute and every ache much more than I did before.
Fitness is for life, and its a marathon (hopefully an ultra), not a sprint. I read so many posts where people have twisted an ankle or got a cold and are despondent because they will lose a week of progress. I chuckle because I remember being exactly like that. I recall mummifying myself in KT tape and zombifying myself on painkillers to do races on injured knees. After a year on the bench I rely have learned the value of patience and looking at the long game. Consistency and persistence are the keys to success in training, but equally in recovery.
One year on.
