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August 15, 2006

Walk This Way

I sang Aerosmith's song "Walk This Way" as I walked on the treadmill this morning. Of course, what is the most pervasive problem to obsessively singing this song? The only lyric I actually know is the chorus: Walk This Way. I don't remember exactly, but I don't think the song is meant to be inspirartional from an athletic perspective. Isn't it about a boy wanting a girl to "walk this way"?

Anyway, THANK YOU for all of the comments! I haven't cried in a long time (and maybe I need to), but I felt a tear sneak out of my eye when I checked back in and read everyone's encouraging words. Not to sound completely sappy, but it really touches me in the soul to know that people who have and have not met me can relate to this experience and understand what it feels like. My best friend, Carrie, said: "own up to the past, embrace it, and then let it go." I cannot think of better advice right now.

It is Tuesday - almost afternoon - and I still have not heard the results of the MRI. While I am holding out hope that I have a serious overuse/muscular injury, I have accepted not running for quite a while. And to be completely honest, I *really* am okay with that. The way I view this situation is that I have two choices: 1. I can get super depressed, feel sorry for myself, eat tons of candy and shut down. OR 2. I can view this as an opportunity to heal, and I can be grateful for the things that I CAN do. The doctor said I can walk. So I have been walking. AND - to my complete suprise - I have been enjoying it! I throw on my ipod, sing some songs, close my eyes, feel the wind. I am sort of re-learning to appreciate the quiet times and more subtle forms of exercise.

It was funny, though. When the doctor told me that I could, and should, keep up a "light" exercise routine, I bowed my head for a minute, looked up, and searchingly asked, "Well, how do you define 'light'? Because when I think of 'light' in non-running terms, I think of jumping on a bike and hammering for 45 minutes." He cracked up and said that our definitions were not in unison. "Light" means walking briskly, but not race-walking. It's funny how running 10 miles/day becomes such the norm for some of us . . . to most people, such a norm is the equivalent of a DSM IV "insanity" diagnosis.

I'll update as soon as I find out the results of the MRI. Maybe I will come up with some enlightening things to say about walking . . . and once I can wrap my head around the fuzzy background that this injury probably stems from, maybe I will have some enlightening things to say about that too . . .

In the meantime, I am mentally preparing to run sub 3 next fall ;-)

Posted by bridget at 11:17 AM | Comments (7)

August 9, 2006

Apologies, Apologies

I am not too sure if anyone stops by anymore, but I have held my breath long enough. Maybe I am writing into oblivion tonight, but that is okay with me. I am not exactly in the most rational, fresh, or warm state of mind. There are too many layers to unravel and too many unknowns at this point to make any grand declarations. All that I know is that I am damn sad and I need to pick up my head, pick up the pieces, and take a few steps forward.

I have not run much since the Boston Marathon as a result of a few injuries that spiraled out of control. My ITB improved to the point that I could run 40 minutes at a time. For a while I ran 40 minutes in the AM and 40 minutes in the PM. Then one day I got brave and decided to relive one of my favorite 10 mile routes. I was in running heaven as my feet stamped the lakefront path and the wind gently whispered in my ears . . . the run felt like a dream, but the dream ended in a nightmarish 3 days off and a hell-uv-a-lot of pain. So I slowly inched my way back to 40 minutes in the AM and nothing in the PM.

Two weeks ago things went completely downhill . . . my lower back simply gave out, exhaled in exhaustion, and took me to the ER (not a fun place to end up at 8AM on a friday morning). While the pain could be a simple strain, the doctor is concerned that I have a lower back stress fracture and possibly osteopenia in my spine. That's a lot to digest and it's a reality that I do not want to face. I have had a dull ache in my lower back for over a year; it was never a debilitating pain and it never kept me from running. But somewhere in the dark crevices of my mind, I wondered, "what if . . . no, it can't be. I am healthy. I get my period. I take my calcium, etc, etc."

I am not ready to unzip the struggles of my past, but they are many and they may be the reason that I am facing this stark reality at the ripe old age of 26. I don't want to be another female running casualty or a cautionary tale. Maybe I am being neurotic and overly paranoid. Maybe I am absolutely fine and I just need to rest for another 4-6 weeks. I don't know, but my gut is telling me that I may be facing something a little more serious than just a few weeks off . . . and I pray to whatever gods or goddesses out there that my gut is dead wrong.

Regardless of the results of my MRI, this has been an unwelcome wake up call that will eventually transition into a welcome one as soon as I figure out what to do with myself. Fortunately, I start teaching in 3 weeks and I am taking 3 classes . . . I am going to be so busy that I will not have time to dwell in puddles that I cannot drain. It is what it is and I have to accept that . . . and I have to be grateful that whatever injury I have will heal in time. Life is not over. Running is not over . . . I may never run another 70 mile week in my life or a 2:47 marathon, but I am actually (surprisingly) okay with that.

If Carrie is reading this, all I can say is "Thank you." You keep me sane. And so does my twin sister, Aine ;) And Rosie and Colleen and Katie and Pat and Mom and Dad and, of course, B.

The irony is too much: Now Playing: Coldpay "Fix You."

Posted by bridget at 9:53 PM | Comments (10)