… what is that?
Here’s why I haven’t been talking about running much (other than not talking about ANYTHING, much) — because I haven’t been doing much of it. And when I have, it’s been either a) sucky b) unremarkable c) sucky.
Around the end of the summer, right around Cross-Country Road Trip time now that I’ve had time to angrily obsess over it, I started dealing with a stiff hip-butt thing. I joked with Kristina that it was sympathy pains for her hip issue she’d been dealing with – which actually turned out to be somewhat serious so I feel bad now for half-joking about it. Anyway it wasn’t anything super bad, but it was uncomfortable and “off,” just not enough in my mind to warrant a break. Niggles you run through. Injuries you rest.
Unless your “niggle” lasts four months and eventually you’re just so damn sick of “kind of” hurting and not running fast or uphill or long or anything other than STUPID SLOW JUNK MILES for fear of aggravating it that you cut your mileage, cut your days, add stretching and strength training, and it’s still not getting better but you can’t totally put yourself on the DL because it’s just a “kind of” “niggle” and SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP!
[deep breath… longest runon sentence ever… low VO2… need cardio… and grammar lessons]
So you move up your tattoo appointment to force yourself into taking a week off from running, knowing you won’t be able to wear a sports bra for at least five days while it heals and that you most certainly can’t take your C-cups out without proper harnessing. The mere thought of it gives me motion sickness.
who wore it best? one-shoulder sports bra, or tube top + half hoodie + arm warmer?
And you do everything you can to cope with the “what about that race in two weeks?” stress someway other than drinking all the beer and eating all the holiday candy. And you avoid talking to any running friends for fear of the topic coming up. You throw your pretty new shoes back in their dumb box and into the closet with Garmin and all their friends to eliminate as much guilt as possible. You remind yourself you’re being sensible, that running isn’t your life, and put another smear of aquafor on your scabbing ink wounds.
And so that’s where I am, and what the melodramatic tweets re: running have been about lately.
Holy Joly Christmas Day struggle bus 7 miler. Grasping at straws.
Thigh down = the runner’s selfie
No diagnostic or sympathetic comments, please. I’m still hanging on to the delusion I might wake up one of these days good as new and suddenly in 5x better shape than I am. Because probably running the Carlsbad Half will be a little tougher than climbing the flight of stairs to our house that currently winds me.
[resists running to fridge for beer or chocolate]
Anyway I wasn’t going to say anything about it but a few people have asked if I’ll still be at Carlsbad (in some presence, probably) and said they’d be sad if I never wrote about running again – Are you regretting voting that way now? – so there’s my sad running update.
It’s looking like I’ll be cleared for sports bra’ing tomorrow, so hopefully a more cheery update from my Brooks and pavement is around the corner. If not, maybe 2014 is the year of the power walker?