I’m heading into what is supposed to be the heaviest-miles week in the training schedule: Monday: five and core work, Tuesday: ten, Wednesday: cross-training- swim/core, Thursday: five hard, Friday: rest, and Saturday: twenty. Just the word twenty makes me ill. It’s like this behemoth with a baseball bat standing and ready to kick my butt at the end of the week.
With my knee still making itself heard, I once again have to handle my body with kid gloves, because I am a wimp. If I could package myself in bubble wrap everything would be hunky dory. While I’m at it maybe I could roll an extra layer on for good measure, make me nice and round with only my head and feet sorta sticking out, and then Jim could just line me up at the start of the marathon and give me a good push. Hey, it’s somewhat downhill for the first sixteen miles I’ve heard, so I should get myself a good lead going for more than half of the race- I’ll have to “take out” the unfortunate runner who is in my way, like bowling pins. The main thing is my knee would be fine! However, (tiny hiccup) it’s dumb, so I’m just going to have to take it day to day. I called the doctor’s and they can get me in on Wednesday for a cortisone shot, which hopefully will be a good second choice.
I was thinking yesterday and this morning that I would forego a run and just go swimming instead, but you know, (and here's where the head games start) the knee wasn’t as bad today, so I set up a deal with myself. I would wear my new running shoes (coming up on four hundred miles in the old ones I got just before this training program started in December and wanted to break in a new pair before the race) put on a knee brace, kiss it, and run flat on the treadmill. I was a bit giddy for the first couple of miles. No pain! But then come around three and a quarter miles there was just the tweak starting, although everything in me does not like it, I stopped at three and a half.
It is extremely hard for me to do that. To stop. Is it because I’ve got some kind of compulsive disorder? Is it a pride thing? (Probably.) Or is it a fear of failure? Who knows how the heck I am wired. (Jim’s been trying to sort that shit out for almost thirty years.) Its loose wiring in there for sure, most likely jiggled loose from all the unnecessary jarring to the system over the years of running.
Runners are kind of nutty I have found. Who else would worry about this kind of stuff? So I have to stop killing myself with running all these horribly painful and time consuming miles! So what! You would think that would be cause for celebration!
I sure wish I could get on board with this sanity thing, and quit worrying about it. It will be okay. I keep telling myself that out loud. It will be okay Teresa, one way or another. Here’s hoping one day soon the faulty wiring will fall into place correctly and I will listen to reason!