Way after. Like, almost a month after.
Warning: No chocolate and sprinkles in this post. If you’re here for the food, we’ll be back with that tomorrow. I debated posting this a lot because, well, it’s not my cheeriest post, but it’s what’s on my mind, and what I wanted to share.
There’s been quite a bit on my mind since running my first marathon, but I’ve avoided sharing it because, well, honestly I just didn’t like most of what I was thinking. It included a lot of feeling like I didn’t actually do anything, not feeling proud of myself, and just overall negativity. That, and you know, still having to take elevators and escalators because I can only do the stairs one at a time–you know like stepping up ONLY with my right leg. It takes a really.long.time.
To be honest, I don’t know what the hell my problem is, and if anyone told me they were thinking these same things, I would slap them across the face. However, rather than feel guilty, and beat myself up for the way I feel, I have decided to just be honest, acknowledge it, and hope that my logical brain eventually takes over.
It’s been a tough 3 weeks. I have realized how much the ability to move my body does for my emotional well being. Yes, I’m frustrated that I can’t run. Running has changed me–the way I view food, and the way I view my body. It has given me freedom, and through running I have regained my love for food. Obviously. 😉 But beyond that, I miss just being able to move. I’m so grateful I’m not limping 100% of the time anymore, but I still can’t get through my normal daily activities, and that’s not even including exercise. It makes me feel frustrated, and weak, and ashamed.
I’ve spent the last couple of weeks being every kind of dramatic imaginable. I’ve gotten angry at every person in my life to whom I can assign any sort of “blame”, and been just an all around joy to be around, let me tell you. The silver lining is I am not giving up. I am working so freaking hard to get over this dumb injury. It’s only ITBS. I know you’d think from the way I’m talking that my leg was cut off or something, but it’s just some stupid thing that doesn’t even sound like a big deal, but makes me want to cry whenever I bend/straighten my leg. I wish it had a cooler name that made me sound tough. Anyway, I am pretty sure I am spending more time on “healing” than I did actually training for the marathon. It’s like a full time job. A job I wouldn’t mind if it could come with the benefit of, you know, not being in pain.
To add insult to injury (literally), I have a team of 11 ladies that I promised to run through the night with next weekend, which is clearly not happening. I held out hope for the first 3 weeks, but being that I still can’t walk a mile without a lot of pain, I certainly can’t run, well, any miles. I’m not gonna lie, it sucks, and I am really really really sad. I feel like I’ve let my whole team down.
I’m not the type to not do what I’ve set out to, which is why I had such a hard time when NYCM was canceled, and why I then ran a marathon on a bum knee, only to make it worse. However, I just know I physically can’t do it, and even if did think I could get through it, I can’t go through 4 extra months of this because I was stubborn. I care about my body too much, and I need it to get back to doing all the things I ask of it.
The other day Steve asked me “Would you have traded Ragnar for the marathon?” I didn’t even have to think about it. Of course not. And I wouldn’t trade a healthy knee right now for it either. I know I made the right choice for me, and I’m still glad I did it. I hope once I’m up and running (literally) again, I will be able to kick the blues I’ve been feeling, and start to feel some marathoner pride and accomplishment. I know I deserve it, and I know it’s in there somewhere.
I’m not really sure what the purpose of this post is, other than I just needed to get it out. In between cookies, and loads of sugar, I sometimes need a place for honesty and what I’m feeling. So if you stuck around even though there was no dessert today, thanks for “listening” and caring about what I have to say. I really appreciate it. 🙂
Oh, and if you have words of wisdom for how to feel less lame until I can run again, PLEASE bestow them upon me.