One Step

This injury is one of those one step forward, one step back situations. As long as there is overall improvement, no matter what direction I step, I remain hopeful and try to avoid freaking out over the backwards stepping. It's a tough situation to be in when you get glimpses of what running can be like, but you're not there yet. Apparently, the technical term for my condition (or the most limiting part of my condition, as there are several issues going on at once) is Ischiogluteal Bursitis. It's basically a pain the the ass.

Last night I slept well for the first time in a really long time. Things that had been weighing on me were suddenly lifted, and having clarity, even if the outcome wasn't what I wanted, allowed me to let go and rest. It felt good. My body and mind both needed it, and I realize how important sleep is in healing all wounds, emotional and physical.

Saturday was a fun night, compete with good company, good food and interesting adventures. I have to say that sweet potato fries get me overly excited. I'm slightly embarrassed that I was caught with fries in both hands at one point during dinner, but they are so gooood!

Sunday was hell. Skip that and jump to today, which is looking like it will be a good day.

I'm just finishing up a short story that has been haunting me. Oddly enough, it is a horror story, though it's not all that scary, really. I will need to go back and see if I can up the creepy factor by a fair amount. I have three ideas for the ending and can't decide which one will come out as my final choice. Coming to the end of a story is always bitter sweet for me. There's a sense of relief that it's done, an awareness that it needs editing and rewriting, and even a bit of sadness as the relationship to it comes to a close. Of all the stories I have done recently, it's my least favorite, but it has taken the most effort. Sometimes, like with running, you can have a great race and not feel all that tired, but the races in which you struggle can teach you a great deal.

I'm going to make more of an effort to blog more regularly here. I haven't been good about that lately.

The I word

The last few years, I was so focused on my foot issues that I didn't even realize how injured the rest of my body was. I finally had to face the fact that I have an injury. My PT is amazing. He described my situation in terms of someone who gets in the car over and over when the engine light is on. You sort of learn how to ignore it, even though you know something is wrong. Well, it's different in that, instead of a light, there's shooting pain, stiffness and a constant ache. For years, though, I thought that this was just how my body would be. I was learning to deal with the chronic pain. Um, no. It's how an injured body is, not a healthy one. I still can't believe I raced last year and even before that the way things have been. I'm insane.

In a way, it's good that the stiffness and discomfort got to the point where even walking hurt. I have a LONG way to go still, but I am starting to get glimpses of running again. I have even taken a few jogging steps. I had a few days in the pool on which there was no shooting pain. That's a HUGE improvement. It does leave me in that frustrated situation of being better but not well enough to really run fully, and biking has been out, too.

My life has been sort of sliding lately. My head is so disconnected from my body, I usually don't even know what day it is. Today was the first day in a while that didn't seem impossible to face, even though I'm running on not enough sleep and a surplus of emotion.

This is the time I need to watch myself. Faced with extreme sadness or FEELINGS in general, I know I need to stay one step ahead of my illness. Am I afraid I will slip? No, but that's because the healthy me is giving one hell of a fight. I know what to do, but it can be a challenge at times. Meanwhile, I'm watching someone I know fall down that black hole, rationalizing and explaining away her sick behavior as she falls. And I know there is nothing I can do.

Ahh well, this is a short post, but I have to skip out of here and tend to a few pets and plants before I go to work.

Today was a better day. I think if I can hurt less, I will end up loving running again, even if my stride my never quite be the same. I have hope. Man, what a rough ride it can be at times.

Going To The Poo

I lost the cap on my L key, so it's difficult to type any words containing the letter L. I lost the N cap, too, but, since I use my index finger for that one, I've gotten used to pressing it harder. The missing L in the title sort of fit and made me laugh when I read it, so I didn't go back and press really hard on the spot where the L used to be on my keyboard.

In case my ramblings aren't completely clear, I'm not happy about having to resort to swimming for a workout. Actually, struggling to not drown for 20 minutes isn't really a workout, but that's about all I can handle in the pool. God. I swim for 10 minutes, and it feels like I've run a marathon. Obviously I'm getting out of shape, but I'm hoping my injuries are healing. Shit. I can't believe how very fucked up my body has been. I'm still shocked that I was running and even racing last year. I guess you sort of get used to limitations until either they improve or get worse and require attention. Now I have this weird thing where I can't even run. It's not just the pain, it's like my body is locked up and won't move. It sucks.

I got the OK to jog 20 minutes, but it didn't go very well. I'm a bit worried.

Uggh, the pool. Because I'm spending so much time and effort trying to avoid drowning, I can't really get my heart rate up, unless it goes up out of sheer terror, which might be the case with me. I bought goggles after one session without them, and that helped, only after about 10 minutes, I was thinking, "Damn, I have a headache." It turns out that I had the straps adjusted too tightly, so I pulled off the darned things -- which resulted in an audible sucking sound with a pop at the end -- and attempted to readjust them while treading water. Shit. And ouch! I bruised the area around my eyes. Not only were my eyeballs bloodshot, but I looked like a raccoon. Then my foot cramped up, and one of my toes went into spasm. Oh joy. To top off my pool experience, two young girls mocked me in the locker room for having colorful kinesio tape on my hamstrings. WTF? Like I didn't get enough teasing when I was a kid; I now have to endure it as an adult? Fuck that. I really wanted to say something nasty, but I held my tongue. A friend and I came up with all kinds of awful comebacks that I would never really say but made me laugh after the incident. It's scary the kind of power I know certain insults can have. I'm glad I kept my mouth shut.

Maybe with more swimming, my toothpick-sized arms will look a little less scrawny. They were sore after two laps. Wonderful. I have come very, very close to giving up exercise entirely.

Last night I was watching a really strange show that a friend suggested called Naked and Afraid. The idea is that two people are dropped off in remote areas and have to survive naked together for an extended period. I think it's something like 21 days. Oh, I'd die in the first day; I'm sure. If I didn't go in some freak accident like a coconut bonking me on the head in just the right place, I'm sure some disgusting monstrous insect would eat me before the camera crew could stop the disaster. Either that or the guy who ended up as my partner would kill me for whining about everything.

One of the episodes featured a guy with an infected foot. The producers had to step in and get him medical attention. When they showed him getting it treated, I had flashbacks of being in the hospital. Now, I know he was out in the wild, not in the hospital, but the way he was screaming and yelling when the medic drained the swollen body part made me feel a little less wimpy for shedding the tears I did in the same procedure. That shit HURTS!

My hormones are still completely out of whack. Nothing new there.

I had a spell of writer's block but grabbed a Stephen King book to read for inspiration. I'm very slowly struggling my way through the blockage. Some days, getting a few sentences out is like conquering Everest. My short stories are getting VERY mixed reviews, and I'm having to learn to deal with criticism, a lot of criticism. I get frustrated comparing myself to other writers and my editor, who happens to be a fucking genius, but I'm still working on improving.

I was about to jump into a heated facebook discussion about the outcome of the Zimmerman case, but I realized that the guy I was about to address was probably not going to listen to anyone who disagreed with him. When he cited two "news" sources -- one that's not much more accurate than the Enquirer and the other that has been criticized for copyright infringement and other indiscretions,  -- I decided to sit back and watch the mayhem unfold. It was quite upsetting.

Oh, this is kind of cool. Sue Ann Gleason (Chocolate for Breakfast) posted this earlier:

Famous Authors who didn't graduate in writing-related fields.

Back to messing around with words. 

I Don't Do That

I can't really run. It hurts. I hurt. It's frustrating and confusing. As a result, my emotions are a little on the raw side. Being injured in the summer flat out sucks. Nothing else really matters when you're facing an injury. No matter how far from the elite podium I have fallen, running still means something to me. When I'm struggling with it, I struggle in other areas of my life.

Recently, I wrote a short story, and it's getting mixed reviews. I went from thinking it was decent to thinking it's shit in one day, because of one comment. I'm way too sensitive. I will probably rip it apart several more times before I even think about putting out in the public eye. I'm all too aware of my shortcomings as a writer. Sometimes I wish I had an inflated ego, just so I would get out of my own way more, but it's probably better to be realistic.

The thoughts in my head are spinning around this fucked up idea of love. I no longer pretend to have a clue about this shit. These days, people only love until something better comes along, or they love with the idea that it's temporary. There's no such thing as the kind of eternal love that plagued the characters in Romeo and Juliet. Even if there were, we're all too busy jumping on high horses, complaining and destroying the planet for it to matter much. Today's love is excessive self love --you take as much as you can and fuck anyone else who gets in your way-- GRAB, GRAB, GRAB, and for those of us who can barely like ourselves, our love spills out in all the wrong places. We trust too much, get hurt too easily and wonder how the fuck other people sleep at night.

Relationships? I don't do them. Actually, I should clarify that. I don't do them well. I used to jump in with both feet, like some free-spirited kid jumping into a rain puddle, completely unaware of any potential danger. Then I got hurt a few times, and a few times more. What's that saying about how you should love like you have never been hurt before? Snort. Yeah, right. Sounds good on paper. Anyone who has been screwed over knows it's not that simple. Every time you enter into a new situation with someone, you tend to bring all your scars, fears and distrust from the past. It would be nice if that weren't the case. In the end, many of us repeat the past, no matter how informed we may be. And don't you hate it when your intuition is right?

I want my life to be like a Baz Luhrmann film. I know- so over the top! Well, if you want a straight-laced version of Romeo and Juliet or the Great Gatsby, read some books. If you want visual stimulation, passion and excess, see one of his films.


I'm in a radiohead kind of mood:

Happy 4th!

No racing for me any time soon. I hope those of you who laced up your racing flats this morning had fun and ran well.

The PT I saw on Monday is really, really good. The problem is that my body doesn't seem to be responding the way it should. Still, it does help to know what's going on, and I wasn't foolish enough to think that one treatment would cure years and years of chronic pain and injuries. I'm doing the exercises he gave me for homework and struggling to find flat places to run around here. Two steps forward, one step back seems to be about right. Hopefully that overall forward motion will continue.

I'm spending most of my time working, writing and stressing lately. Today I have a rare day off with only a few job-related activities to do, so I will take full advantage by spending the day writing and being lazy. I haven't even stuck my nose out the door yet.

Enjoy the holiday!

Not Yet

Ouch.

Pain Free In My Future?

I have totally neglected my blog. Apologies, but I have been working a lot and trying to write short stories and articles in my spare time. I miss blogging, though.

Have you ever had chronic pain and, over the years, forget what it's like to live a day without it? For the first time in YEARS, many years, I walked up the stairs without wincing. I haven't been able to step properly for close to 15 years now. Looking back, I have no idea how I was able to run and race at all, given how locked up my body has been. I finally found someone who seems to be able to help me. It's still in the early stages and I have a ton of work to do. It will be a long road, but I can't believe the difference after just one treatment. Wow. I hope I can afford a few more appointments. It all depends on my insurance. I feel like crying. There might be a light at the end of this fucking miserably dark tunnel.

I went here, in case anyone is wondering. http://highaltitudesportsrehab.com/

This post will be super short, because I don't want to mix in a bunch of complaints with the little bit of hope expressed above. Keep checking back, though. I will make more of an effort post more. To end things, here's a song I just love but rarely hear anymore. I played this many years ago on one of my radio shows:

The Submarines modern inventions: