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!
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