Truths: A bump in the road

So, for all of this time I have avoided ever blogging about my running. It started back in October. I, a person who thought she would never in her whole life be a runner, became a runner. I don’t mean a sprinter or a marathoner – just an average runner.

I had begun walking my dogs on a regular basis and for some odd reason gave jogging a try. At first it was just downhill, then the straight aways – then to “that” mailbox… until I was running a full straight ½ mile.

The weather turned cold and our basement was finally done – so the treadmill came out and by my 40th birthday I was running a straight 2 miles. At the beginning of this month, I had made it to 3.

I had a whole regiment: stretch, run for 40 minutes, yoga for 20. It was this magical hour for me and I had come to LOVE it.

I never wanted to blog about it because you know how that goes – the minute you tell people about it – you find yourself quitting, giving up and then later they ask how it is going and well, you bow your head in shame.

I didn’t want that pressure.

So, two nights ago I literally crawled up the stairs to bed… I wasn’t drunk – so this made this behavior completely unacceptable.

No, I was in such pain, pain that has only gotten worse as I have reluctantly taken a break from running. I went for a MRI – only to find out yesterday – that they see nothing wrong.

That is like a double edged sword: on one hand it is good: nothing is broke and the healing time is quicker – but on the other hand – you wonder, “what the Hell is wrong with me?”

No answers – suck.

It’s been a rather depressing few weeks for me. I had come so far – actually made running a lifestyle change – I was losing weight and really feeling better about myself. And then, BAM, injury strikes and I find myself sitting in front of the TV – watching HBO – catching up on all of the movies I haven’t seen in two years and eating sno-caps. It is all like a bad dream.

So, in order to make me feel a little better, the Dr. gave me some meds – while they should have been anti-depressants – they are anti-inflammatories. I am on my second one – and it seems to be helping. Who knows if it really is – but my brain is saying it is and that is all that really matters, right?

I am trying to see this whole thing differently – like just a bump in the road – not a dead end.

Many people have offered their sympathies by expressing, “Just think how awful a set-back like this would be for an athlete (inferring I am not one…). Can you imagine what it must feel like to be training for a marathon, or worse, the Olympics and have an injury like this?”

Yes, yes, I can imagine what it would be like – because even though I am not an athlete nor am I training for some amazing race – I was training to just be a more fit, more well-balanced, healthy person. My training didn’t end with any event – it was a lifestyle change and right now – my lifestyle is in the toilet. So, yes, I can imagine the defeat, the frustration, the depression.

But, it could be worse. I don’t need surgery, I won’t be getting any steel rods in my leg – the recovery should be minimal – as long as it already seems.

It truly is just a speed bump – a minor pothole – in my road. Maybe there was some anti-depressant in the meds he gave me – because I feel like the grey cloud has lifted some and that in just a few weeks – I can back on track – only looking back to remember that I overcame a typical hurdle in an “athlete’s” life and somehow am a better person for it.