I could tell you that I effectively managed my anger and frustration this evening by doing something productive – laundry, working out, catching up on work, ordering furniture for the new place, washing my hair, etc – but I’d be lying. Instead, I self medicated my injury-the-week-before-the-big-race woes with some (…lots) of the following :
Yes, all of it, in large quantities. After an, albeit early, dinner. Regardless, this is no active woman’s snack. This belongs on an episode of The Biggest Loser. I can hear Jillian screaming at me already…
I know throwing an extra 10 lbs on before the race won’t make running on a bum foot any easier, but that homemade guac sure made me feel better at the time.
Will have doctor results tomorrow afternoon. Cross your fingers and toes he’s got some magical remedy that Aleve and ice-baths-in-hotel-trashcans weren’t able to cure on their own.
(Just in case you don’t know me well enough – I plan on running regardless of the diagnosis – hell or high water they can brace/cast/amputate after this damn race)
Gimpy Foul-Mooded McQueen,
Sarah Soon-To Be