I'm still here. I've immersed myself deeply into the world of chocolate, and I'm not sure I want to resurface.
I'm also in my head, a place that causes me to engage less in the real world. It's easy to get caught up in thoughts and lose that feeling of being grounded.
I don't like change, yet I crave it. I'm sure I'm not alone. When I jump into the deep end after being afraid to do so, it's often not as bad as I thought it would be. If the water's too cold, I can always get out, right? When it comes to injuries, it's not as simple. Jumping in means accepting, not fighting and facing the fears that come with switching gears. I know I "should" go to the pool, but I hate it. I just fucking hate it, unless I don't have to do it and have the extra time, money and motivation. I know I don't have to do anything, but I know I feel better if I can do some exercise.
My body feels so wrecked. Christ. One limp always leads to another issue, and the spiral continues. I did get to run on the AlterG treadmill. After 10 minutes, my right knee felt all tweaked. It's minor, but I'm staying off it, just to be safe. I see the specialist Monday for the main injury. I know any new twinge or pain is related to all these imbalances caused by the foot surgery, years of limping and now the other literal pain the the ass injury.
It feels like the two sides of my body are from different people. You know those Barbie dolls that have parts that can be pulled off? OK, maybe I was the only one who was destructive with her toys as a kid, but you can pull the legs off dolls and sometimes put them back together again. My body feels like a doll with a different doll's parts on one side. Actually, I feel more like my body has been run over by a car.
I keep getting close to losing all hope of ever really running again. Right now, I'm more concerned with getting to the point where everything doesn't hurt. I want to be able to walk without feeling so out of whack. But I miss my sport. I'm guessing I won't ever race again, but I have a little bit of hope left that I might jog again. God, I hope I can.
Sometimes moving on is as simple as making a decision. You can go down that familiar road, that miserable, painful road that, at times, looks so appealing and comfortable but is so fucking bad for you, or you can opt to change directions and explore new territory. The latter is scary, but the former will destroy you. Of course the road isn't necessarily smooth once that decision has been made, but the decision itself will offer some relief. Or you can simply hang on for the ride and see where the roller coaster takes you.
Tomorrow I will be looking for guidance. I know I need to do things differently, but I'm not sure what that looks like. If I can get a better picture tomorrow, that will help. Knowing the nature of an injury helps so much in dealing with it. I had so many stress fractures in the past that I know how to handle those. This is something else. What a long trail of frustration I have been down lately.
So back to the comfort of chocolate and radio, two things that are keeping me sane at the moment...or more sane than I otherwise would be without them.