Defeat. Repeat. Defeat. Repeat.
I am going to complain. If you don't want to read the whining and pouting of a 30-year old woman, stop reading now, because this post is going to be full of negative whining. I promise to return to regular programming later. But, today, this is my therapy... and I need it.
I am officially having my own pity party... and I am going to let it last as long as I feel like it lasting... because this time I truly feel like I deserve it.
OK. I'm going overboard with the drama and the whining.
I have typed that word at least 50 times this week. As you read about last week, I am injured. Again.
How many posts does a person need to write about this? Really? Didn't I already blog about being injured when training for a race? TWICE?
Yep. Three times must be the charm.
I have a stress fracture in my left foot. It is "highly unlikely" that I will be able to run in the half marathon that I have spent the last three months training for. Three months... or 143 miles... or 22 hours... or 94.5 donuts burned (according to Dailymile). That's how much I have invested. That's how much I've worked to run in this one race... and now the possibility of me even being able to run part of it and walk part of it is only slight.
The sports medical doctor was great. He knew I was upset and tried to help me rationalize it all. He said that I could keep training with the bike and by swimming and even trying out the elliptical, but no running for at least 2-3 weeks. He scheduled me an appointment to come back on April 15 to re-evaluate. At that point, he said he hoped he could release me to run short distances and walk. I asked what would happen if I ran some still... just to see if I could keep up some distance. He said that the bone is basically weakened. If I keep pounding on it, even at small amounts, it will eventually break. So, I have to let it heal or risk breaking my foot.
Again. Here I sit, completely ready to run the race I've been training for (almost completely ready), and I'm injured. I'm watching as my friends go on and keep their training up... just like I had to do with Rebecca last year. (Girls - know that I love that you are still training, so please don't feel like you have to shield or protect me. I just wish I was with you is all.). I have to know that every aspect of me is ready for a race and the celebration that we would have afterward, but instead I will likely be sitting on the side, cheering the girls on. Can I get two new feet and ankles, please? :)
I told you this was going to be a pity party post.
I'm so sad. So disappointed. So frustrated. So, so, so mad. Mad at myself because I somehow feel like I should have done something differently. Mad because it seems so unfair that I have to deal with this again. Mad because I am going to have to start all over again.
And yet, part of me is still hoping with all hope that by some miracle, I will pull through this and be able to race. I know it isn't rational... and I know that it isn't likely. But, it's not impossible, either. Still, even when I'm defeated, in the back of my mind, I'm thinking there is some way that I can do this.
On a sidenote, I sat in the Sports Medicine Clinic today with a room full of high school and college student athletes. There were knee injuries galore. I looked around and saw the faces of people who had their dreams squashed and they were young. I am 30. I have a wonderful life and a supportive family. I have a job. I have a home. I never meant to become a runner. It was never a dream. I love it with all of me... and I want to continue it, but I didn't plan for it. I looked around and thought about how sorry I was feeling for myself... and I remembered my brother, Colt. The last time I sat in that room was with him when he hurt his knee playing football. How depressed he must have been... his whole life he had played and prepared and worked to get to play football... and with one hit it was gone. Ugh. It's interesting how life works sometimes... how you think you get something, but you really don't get it at all.
On the brighter side... today is baby girl's birthday. I will not let this keep us from enjoying it... and celebrating her. So, now that I'm done with my sad little party, I shall move on. It's just another day... and this too shall pass.
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