Physical Therapy, 7:30 AM

I woke up this morning and my foot hurt.  So without going into so much detail because it’s unnecessary and mostly it doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not running yet.

I sobbed in the car on my way in to physical therapy this morning because it has been 31 days since I woke up and realized my choices were (1) Crawl to the bathroom (2) Action Spiderman’s Chosen Method Of Transport And Slither Along The Wall.

For the record, I would not recommend car-crying because in addition to making desperate attempts to pay attention to the road, the thought of crying black, Miss Wisconsin-style mascara tears before 8:00 AM is nothing short of terrifying.

I mean, I guess you could call me vaguely “healthy” because I can walk, largely without meaningful pain.  For a lot of people, that right there falls into the category of doing pretty damn well.

But walking isn’t really my goal.

I could handle DNF-ing my second marathon because I know that I did all of the work.  I’ve said it before, I will say it a million more times.  I do not regret any of it.

But 31 days into an overuse injury that has no set end-date, I am on the verge of losing my mind.

This is me, officially sulking and declaring myself a pity party for one day only.  Because sometimes you just need to get it down, get it out and get on with it already.

How do I really feel?

The glass half-full is getting me nowhere.  The marathon is 12 weeks away.  Everyone else is out doing something while I am consigned to squats and calf raises and pelvic thrusts.  This is not the life I signed up for.  If I see another one of those Pinterests that outlines Finishing Last as being more noble than a DNF or DNS I am going to tear my hair out by the roots.  I cannot operate in a world where there is no reward for giving everything.  I’m tired of biking.  I’m not a biker.  No I don’t own a road bike, and yes I’ve thought about biking on the road.   I’m still not interested.  I’m allergic to chlorine, so please just spare me now unless you belong to a health club with a salt water pool.  No, I don’t want to join a gym.  No, I don’t want to join Your gym.  I’m even less interested in the ways that your personal trainer can help me unless they come with a free pair of New Legs.  The light at the end of the tunnel is gone.

It’s embarrassing, really.  I want so badly to be Little Miss Valiant.  Little Miss Totally Okay With It.  Little Miss Keep Calm And Carry On.

But I am just sick and tired of all of it.

At some point, this has to get better, right?


13 responses to “Sulking.

  1. Not everyone is out there training, friend. I’m right there with you. In fact I’m officially out for the rest of the running season/year. I’m at 4 weeks tomorrow. Not sure if it does get better. I don’t know yet, but rest assured you are def not alone. Looking forward to seeing you Saturday. You can ugly cry on me if you want. I might join you!

  2. It always gets better…although it usually takes time. Like me you are not very patient…so all I can say is there has to be something you can do that you like until you can run again…just gotta find it. Miss you 🙂

  3. I find myself enjoying biking and running…. but still running is my zen. Other forms of exercise: I rarely rise above half-hearted. I feel your pain. Get better!

  4. Maybe consider it as you’re just tapering, early?

    Actually, I get it. Hope that you can find a way to find some pain-free peace.

  5. PS…what is that fun little thing you’ve got taped on you? I WANT ONE FOR MY TIBIA!!! I don’t even know what it does, but I want one.

  6. I feel your pity party. I dislocated my knee in April, am finally cleared to do light running but am having to start over completely.

    My pt doc suggested swimming….I suggested he go fly a kite.

  7. Can I join the pity party? Been rehab-ing plantar fasciitis and some knee issues since March… got up to 3 miles a few times a week in June and have totally backslid. I just *need* to run!!!!

  8. Keep your spirits up little buckaroo. (yeah, with time to think about it, that’s the best I could come up with). Heal up real good.

  9. That sounds totally miserable. 😦

    Unrelated: Add “How To Be A Woman” by Caitlin Moran to your reading list. Recently released in the US, and a huge hit in the UK. I added it to book club next spring, and can’t wait to get my hands on a copy.

  10. Oh, dear, I’m so sorry :[ How miserable. Seriously. I hope you feel better, soon. Keep your chin up, as hard as it is, you’ll get through it :]

  11. Drats. Well, maybe you could train to be a long distance swimmer? Swim to Canada and back or something? That’s probably easier on your joints and bones and such…While you ponder than, drink a beer as soon as the clock hits noon. That always helps.

  12. I’m so sorry to hear about all of the crap you’ve been going through. Yes, it will get better. It just sucks right now. For one thing, it hasn’t even been a whole year. You’re still young, so it’s easier for your body to spring back.

  13. Hang in there kid – I know those days. With the back injury that still literally makes me walk my hands up my own legs to stand up after sitting on the floor or getting out of bad – I sympathized, empathize and say this – You’ve earned your moment of sulking, pity partying, rage-aholing, Ms Wisconsin tears at any time of day.
    Enjoy the hell out of that cupcake and have your moment. You’ve earned them both.

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