Yeah, no, I don’t have anything exciting or funny to say this week.
I've run less than an hour total in the last 12 days, but I have done the following:
The nagging little pain in my hip is still there, and I've been equal parts patient, paranoid, and pissed about it. On one hand I know that rushing back and not giving it time to heal is dumb, but also laying around losing fitness and babying something that might not be that big of a deal also feels really dumb. It's hard to tell with injuries where the line is, and it's even harder to maintain a cool head while trying to walk it like a tightrope. As the endorphin reservoir dried and my laundry became predominantly un-sweaty textiles, my mood spiraled. Without those head-clearing miles and confidence-boosting workouts my grumpiness snowballed straight into an abominable snowman who definitely doesn't want to hear about your weekend and definitely isn't going to get that thing you asked for to you on time, and NO she doesn't want to talk about it.
(ahem... apologies, everyone)
During that bulleted "most painful ever" massage the therapist and his torture hands found a slew of tight and knotted bits, from my gluteus medius, TFL, adductor, IT band, calf, all the way to my achilles. Pretty much my whole left leg is a mess, and it's a shock it's taken this long for a straw to break the camel's hip.
A prescription of trigger point self massage plus cross training and not being a rushed moron is underway, but MAN it's hard. The marathons's just over two weeks away and I know in my logical brain there isn't much new fitness to be gained at this point, but it doesn't make this process any easier to swallow. I'm itching to feel the lactic build up during an interval workout, the struggle of pushing at the end of a tempo for one more gear, the miserable march of a long run. Hell at this point I'd give my left arm just to go on an easy lunch run with my coworkers!
Admitting to craving those things makes me realize I might be in a slightly better place than I thought, though. Without a definitive time goal this race has felt... flippant? Just real light hearted and casual, I guess. But now that there's something threatening to take it away? Oh hell no. I've got barbs all in this marathon and I'll be damned if I don't get to at least try to run my little heart out on May 21st.
It might not be my best, but undertrained and healthy is better than fully trained and broken.
Picky Bars believes, at its core, in a healthy, positive relationship with food. That the best plan is the one that works for YOU, that you can stick to.