Never too late to make a new resolution right? Welcome to my plan for summer…
This post is likely to be all over the place because it is May and in May, I am generally all over the place!
Foot/Leg- I have been cleared to work out. Great news. Still no running. Not so great news. I’ll go back in another two weeks for another check-in and we will take it from there. Two weeks at a time. I am happy at this point that I can get back to ballet and barre and at least use the elliptical. It is definitely better than only being able to lift because while my arms look like the gun show, my legs and belly are definitely getting flabby and that is NOT how I want to go into summer!
Work- Work is in a word- insane. May is always crazy. Not only is there the 8th grade semi-formal and 8th grade overnight trip but it is the end stages of graduation planning and the kids (and teachers!) are checking out. Additionally, May is about the time we start planning for September. Double duty. Craziness!
There are two social things happening right now, both of which I want to vent about because I am livid and need to get this off my chest!
1- Charles Ramsey saved three girls lives. In case you live under a rock and haven’t heard, he was able to rescue a girl who had been missing for 12 years. She was then able to call 911 and rescue two other girls who had been missing. Instead of praising this man for being the hero that he is, the media is making a joke out of him. This infuriates me to the enth degree. To top it off, while the world is making a joke out of him, he is donating his reward money to the girls that were found. The world needs more Charles Ramsey’s. End of story.
2- Abercrombie & Fitch CED Mike Jeffries doesn’t want fat people to shop at his store because he only wants cool and pretty people buying his clothes. I have never so much as stepped foot in this store (or Hollister) because their sizes make it obvious that this is their mission statement, but i am even more full of rage that he makes blanket statements like “We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely.” What a gross human being. Let’s instigate body snarking and bullying because we don’t already have enough of that with kids. If you do shop there, or allow your kids to shop there, I implore you to stop. Please do not give money to people who encourage this despicable behavior.
In summation, the world needs more Charles Ramsey’s and less Mike Jeffries.
These two are enough alike, and short enough, that I am putting them in the same post. And I am a bit thankful they are lighter than the past few. Also, if you are wondering…my foot is healing and hopefully by next week I will have an official update :)
Day 11: Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
When people first see me, I usually get complimented on my eyes and my hair. My eyes are so blue and are known to change their hues depending on my mood or what I am wearing. I also have really long eyelashes. So long in fact, that I don’t wear lengthening mascara, ever. I have always had long hair (with exception to a few bad hair cuts I would rather forget) and even though it is thin, I have a lot of it and people usually note how much they love it.
When people get to know me they tend to compliment me on my independence, loyalty and my ability to laugh at myself. I have always had a sense of independence, instilled in me from an early age. Also, I am fiercely loyal.
Day 12: Something people never seem to compliment you on.
I don’t know if I can say “never” since I am sure at one time or another someone has…but I do not get complimented very often I’ll say on is my style. That is probably because I don’t really have any. I mean, I think I dress well, but I suck at accessorizing and don’t care about name brands. I dress for the purpose of getting dressed. I own a few cute things but often I just want to be comfortable.
Day 10- Someone you have to let go of or wish you didn’t know
(Going with the latter here, since said person has been let go of.)
In the time we were together, R2 and I made amazing memories. We laughed a lot and fought a little. We could make anything fun!
Together, R2 and I spent overnights in Philly, traveled to Lancaster for his birthday and Baltimore for mine. We made the towns of Princeton and New Hope our own, traveling in often for breakfasts, dinners, festivals, ice cream, coffee, drinks and just nights walking around. We spent countless hours staying up way past our bedtimes talking and laughing. We very rarely went more than a day or two without seeing each other and for the time we were together we communicated every single day. He was there for my 30th birthday and my marathon…two of the biggest moments of not just that year, but in my life. We shares smiles, laughs and tears. Talked about our dreams and our fears. At the end of the day, we built a friendship that is unlike many I have ever had.
That all sounded really good, right? Yeah, it felt good when I was telling myself how wonderful we were, too.
But we weren’t.
Of course, all those things happened. We went on those trips, had fabulous times, talked about everything under the sun and laughed a lot. But underneath it all was the one undeniable truth I didn’t want to admit to myself. R2 didn’t love me. And he would never love me. And everything we did and everything we “built” were just attempts for me to get him to love me. And I tried everything. When you are the one who loves more (or in this case loves at all without being loved at all) you will fight to the ends of the earth just for some justification that your efforts were worth it. This piece from Thought Catalog sums up what I am trying to say better than I ever could.
I look back on every single relationship I ever had and I wouldn’t take a single one back. Each relationship brought its own set of memories, but more importantly, each one taught me lessons I’ll never forget. Some of them were good relationships and some of them were not so good relationships. But they were all worth it in the end. Until R2. I can say with a sound mind and whole heart that if I could do it all over again, I would have chosen to never know R2. There were a lot of good times and hardly any fights…but in our entire time together R2 never said I was pretty or beautiful. (Actually, he did once, but it came after a melt down I had about him not saying it. Therefore, I don’t count it.) He never told me the things you want to hear when you care about someone. He never appreciated the effort I put into small things, like stopping on the way to his house to pick up his favorite dessert. And he never did those small things for me. In fact, the ONE and only time he said he had a surprise for me…he actually brought home HIS favorite dessert. True story.
Not only was there was no love, but for a long time I questioned if he even liked me. But of course, he liked me. He liked having someone around who loved him. He liked having someone who did those small things for him. He liked having someone to hang out with, talk to, go on trips with and laugh with all the time. And he REALLY liked having someone have sex with on the regular. But, the truth is…and this took a LONG time and months of therapy to face… it didn’t need to be me. I could have been anyone. I didn’t matter. And that makes no part of him worth having ever been a part of my life. When I think of the times he told me that I would never find someone like him again, I seriously laugh out loud. Why would I WANT to?
I have said before in this post- “The concept of living a life with no regrets is great in theory, but it’s also unrealistic. I do have regrets. And instead of pretending they don’t exist, I have learned to use them as tools to live better.” And that is what I am doing. I cannot change that I knew R2 or that he was a part of my life. I accept what I went through and can only hope I will never allow myself to be treated that way again in the future. And for me, for now, that has to be enough.
The hardest part isn’t forgiving him for putting me through it…that has been done. He put me through the ringer and even tried to convince me that I was crazy for being hurt about anything. But he truly is forgiven. The hardest part is forgiving myself for allowing myself to be treated in such a way. To have done what I did to myself for so long. That has been the hardest part.
(I thought long and hard about posting this. The R2 period in my life is over and I have successfully moved on with my life. At first writing it seemed like a step back. but it isn’t. It wasn’t even hard to write because it is what it is…the challenge is called Truth, and well…this is the truth!)
Sometimes, as much as the outcome sucks, it is good to know a decision was made based on correct intuition. When I pulled out of Rutgers, it was not a difficult decision. I just knew something wasn’t right. Remember when I said a gut feeling is not just a euphemism? This is a perfect example. I knew what I was feeling wasn’t in my head. Although, I wish it had been.
Turns out, what I was feeling at Rutgers, was not in my head. I saw the doctor on Thursday when the pain was only getting worse in my foot/ankle. I was terrified of a stress fracture.
The goods news is, nothing is broken in my foot! And seriously, that is some great news!
The bad news is I have a pretty significant case of Peroneal Tendonitis.
Peroneal Tendonitis refers to painful inflammation of the peroneal tendons located on the outer side of the foot, a little behind the ankle bump.
There are two peroneal muscles on the outer side of the lower leg. One long one, called the peroneal longus runs from the knee to the ankle, and one short one, called the peroneal brevis muscle runs from below the knee to the ankle. Both these muscles when they approach the ankle, convert into tendons, which are thick bands of fibers that connect muscle to bone. Both these tendons run side-by-side and curve behind the outer bump of the ankle, then run below the foot where they insert into the bones of the foot.
As the muscle contracts, these tendons pull the lower surfaces of these bones, pulling/bending the foot downward (plantarflexion) and outward (eversion).
Once we had a diagnosis, it was time to treat. Out of waitressing for 10 days and lots of RICE method. Additionally in an effort to keep my leg stabilized and because “I can’t be trusted to stay off my feet,” I was also put in the CAM walker for the weekend. Thank God that was only for a few days. If I never have to see that boot again, it will be too soon.
And I’ll be rocking this again for a weeks to keep my ankle stable:
I was also supposed to do this weird thing…I think normal people call it relaxing? Yeah, I am not so good at that but didn’t have a choice. I spent Thursday night, Friday night and all day Saturday on my couch with my foot up and ice on and off. Sunday, I mowed the lawn in my boot- that was a new experience…! Other than a few errands, my friends housewarming Saturday night and mowing the lawn Sunday, my weekend mostly looked like this:
As much as relaxing isn’t my thing, I’ll admit it was a nice break. I run on empty most of the time, so to be able to have a reason to do nothing was a good and much needed chance of pace. It is hard to stay off my feet at my day job as well but I am trying. And since I am not working nights this week, and I cannot afford to do anything because I am not working night this week, the above is pretty much my game plan for the rest of the week. For now, running is completely out of the question and I have to wait until I am pain free to get back to ballet/barre but I am hoping next weekend to get a work out in, even if it is just slow on the elliptical and some lifting. I’ll take anything!
It may seem as though my spirits are up; that is mostly due to the fact that I am so happy I don’t have a fracture. But the truth is, I am really bummed out. I did everything right training for Rutgers. I felt so ready. And for things to just fall apart and me to be back off running is a huge blow. I am frustrated. Actually, I am beyond frustrated. I feel like I am always injured. While it seems everyone I know is getting better and faster, I am regressing. My running has never been the same since I broke my foot and I am worried that it never will be. The other day a friend of mine said she really felt like a runner now that she was fast. I said she was always a runner because if you run you are a runner. She replied that before she felt like an imposter. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Is she saying that slow runners are imposters? Am I one? I mean, I don’t think so…but when I am struggling, this is the exact thing that gets in my head. The exact thing that makes me just want to throw in the towel. I don’t even know if that is what she meant or if I am just hyper sensitive because I am feeling so low. I have been fighting injuries for so long…I am not getting any better. How long do I keep doing this to myself? I don’t know. I have to see how this PT goes and in the meantime, I’ll be sticking with barre and ballet and lifting and trying to get strong. Both physically and mentally.
In other news, to end on a good note…this came in the mail over the weekend:
Best mail I have gotten in a while!
This is my 500th post!
Before I started blogging again, I took a look back at my posts for motivation and to remember why I loved it so much in the first place. Some made me smile and a few made me sad. Some are much deeper than others. A few were really hard to write. Some just make me laugh. My favorite ones are the ones that created a forum for conversation and opened others up to tell their own stories. I also love re-reading my race reports! While many of my posts are just about my day to day training or about what is going on in my life, I hope I have in some way inspired you as my reader. I started this blog as a way to journal, but soon found such a great world out there full of amazing people. Before I started my own blog, I read A LOT of blogs. I knew I wanted THIS blog to be honest, relevant, personal and helpful. I think I have achieved that thus far. This blog is exactly how it should be.
Whether you have been there from day 1, day 10, day 100 or only started reading this week- thank you!
7.8 what huh? I thought it was a 13.1?
Yeah…so about that…
My training leading up to the race went pretty well. My 10 miler was a beast but I chalked it up to a bad day. My taper runs went off without a hitch and I saw my sports PT three days before the race and everything checked out. Then, Friday after work my ankle and shin were bothering me. It was a long shift so I just iced and stayed off it most of Saturday. Sunday, I could feel it but wasn’t too concerned. My friend Lisa and I drove up to the race together and while I debated dropping to the 8K, I thought it was all in my head so I headed to the half-marathon start line.
Miles 1-4 were okay. I really did not expect the hills. The race is described as flat but it was entirely full of rolling hills. My calf muscles weren’t happy- I mean, I train in SOUTH JERSEY!- but I was getting by. It was at about mile 5 that my race started going downhill. My pace was still fine but my calves were cramping and my shins were on fire. There was a certain level of “push through it” and a certain level of “don’t hurt yourself” going through my head at the same time. I was walking a whole lot more than I like and no amount of stretching was helping. The last thing I wanted to do was give up but I was getting increasingly frustrated. I would stop, stretch and then less than a quarter mile I would have to stop again. By mile 7, I had pretty much had it with the race. The cramps in my calves were getting worse and every time I saw a hill, I wanted to cry. At this point, I wasn’t running at all and still had over six miles to go. I really did not think it was wise for me, mentally or physically, to keep going. So for the first time ever in a road race, I stopped. At mile 7.8, I pulled myself from the race, walked over to an aid station and had them radio me a ride to the start where I was able to catch a shuttle to the finish line.
I kept waiting for the tears. To feel the failure in the pit of my stomach. It never came. Because I didn’t fail. I made a decision. And truthfully, it wasn’t even a difficult one. I have spent much of the last 3 years injured. It isn’t worth it. I have no idea why my legs failed me- obviously, I need more hill work, but it has to be more than that. Today, I will meet with my sports chiropractor and see what he thinks. We have already talked about the next marathon (another post for another time) and today we will talk about the path for this year. I don’t have any more races planned until July, so for now, I am just going to work on getting these legs back in working order.
After the race, I met up with my friends and we had lunch at a local brewery. The day went on as normal.
Here is a photo from the day-