by Approximately four weeks (July 22) — running on the Newton (treadmill, at less than full body weight)
Eight weeks or so (August 22) — adding some running with full body weight into workouts
February 2012 — able to run 10K to half-marathon distance
June 2012 — soonest I might be back to being able to run a 50 miler
??? — 100 miler
Will I Ever Run That Hundred Miler?
I like to think I’m realistic and conservative, but I had some notions.
I’d hoped I’d be able to pace for a loop out at Cactus Rose by this October or maybe go out an mark trail or pull flags. I had some vague hopes that I’d be able to go back to Rocky Raccoon in February of 2012 and “get back on that horse” by being out on the 50-mile course.
My surgeon really set some different expectations for me. In no way did he prepare me for the amount of tissue work and recovery that would need to go on beyond simple (“simple,” haha) bone repair. In fact, he set the expectation that I’d be introducing running back into my workouts on June 1 and that I’d have “some swelling for as long as six months.”
The irony bound up in my 100-miler odyssey has not escaped me. Originally, I had planned to try my first 100-miler in February 2012, the year I turn 50. But I was running so well that I chose to take advantage of all my great success and preparation and try it a year earlier. The thinking was, if I didn’t finish I could always try again next year. lol…and that’s a bitter, sarcastic laugh. The irony is that I’ve cost myself a year and a half of running AT ALL.
I had an entry awhile back about how things happen for a reason, that there is usually a purpose and something for the better that comes from my running setbacks. This setback is still too fresh, too close, too massive to look at in that way. Perhaps it will come to me, but right now, I don’t need to hear from anyone that this is good for me. What I need is comfort.
Given a second chance, would I do anything differently? Honestly, I think I’d come to the same decision looking at all the conditions. Breaking my ankle was an accident that could have happened anywhere, so no, I don’t regret the decision I made to take on Rocky that icy weekend.
And I fully trust and believe in my PT. Christine is the best possible person to get me back 100 percent. I appreciate her for giving me the straight truth and not giving false hope or unrealistic impressions. While I will work my hardest to exceed these goals and get there faster, I believe she has me on the right path, and I will listen to and follow her recommendations.
Yes, I have great, exciting things going on in my life; the move is a wonderful thing I’ve been looking forward to for (believe it or not) three years. I still have fun showing up at random stuff, like Splash ‘n Dash, spectating and cheering on my friends (oh, hell; I have fun cheering on perfect strangers). I’m grateful to be able to aqua jog, wear matching shoes, walk up the stairs without help, take a shower on my own, and not worry about where I have to park and how far the resulting walk might be.
Does any of that make the news of this new timeline hurt less? No.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was sad. Some days it is really hard to screw it up and go do my PT. I’m depressed over watching my fitness go and go and go. It’s frustrating to battle weight gain. I miss races and runs with friends and time alone on the trail. I have days where I see someone running by while I’m driving and I cry in the car. There are days, like today, that just suck.
{{{Hugs}}}
That\’s all I\’ve got. I\’m sorry you\’re so sad.
It\’s the perfect thing, all I need. Just a low point yesterday. Thanks for being my friend!
I\’m an annoying optimist, but sometimes some things Just Suck. There\’s no silver lining or bright side. They didn\’t happen for a reason. You don\’t need to learn anything deep and meaningful. They just suck. And that\’s okay. Realizing and recognizing that doesn\’t make you a pessimist or a failure, unless you let that become your life. Which you obviously haven\’t.
We\’re here to acknowledge that it sucks and give you a hug and help you weather the storm until the suck slowly flows away. Because you\’ll be back where you were. It won\’t be a happy, fun road at all times. But you\’ll look up and find yourself back in that place. And you\’ll hug it and tell it how much you missed it and that you\’ll never take it for granted again, but you probably will, because that\’s what we humans do.
Talking about it, writing about it, putting it out there helps. So keep doing that.
THANKS!!
I think right now, I just need to hear agreement that it sucks. And recognition that it\’s something I miss and feel badly about being absent from (uh, that\’s some tortured grammar but you know what I mean). It DOES help to say it here, and you\’ve made me feel a lot better with this pat on the back.