Here I sit searching for a training plan that can redeem my soul and bring me back from the depths of injury hell. Sounds dramatic, but in truth it is not. After getting over the initial moodiness, irritability, irrational thinking, and cruel outbursts towards my husband, I started riding my bike in place of running. I also started watching TV-something I rarely have much time for during the school year or the summer for that matter. When you go from running 7 or more hours a week to not running at all, you sort of have some extra free time. I shamefully admit that that free time accompanied by working only at my second job led to me becoming obsessed with a TV show on Netflix that I can’t repeat for fear of intense judgement. Lets just say my husband’s look of disapproval was rather harrowing. Even my doctorate level skills at justifying me watching the show made no movement in his opinion. It may be the first time I’ve doubted his love for me.
After becoming addicted to said trashy and not age appropriate TV show, you’d think that’s where the bad behavior stops. If only there were that many rainbows and unicorns. It seems TV watching and not running also created an imbalance of chemicals in my brain. The usual don’t sit down, clean this, put away that, work on this, go run, then walk, then hike, let’s cook complicated things, and not sit down until bedtime self became rather sedentary over the past month.
Now I can’t seem to turn it around. I literally can’t bring myself to get groceries. Instead I’ve been cooking Subway or PB and J sandwiches…for breakfast, lunch, and dinner because I’m too lazy to go to the grocery store. Ryan’s been living off of venison and Subway. I don’t worry too much about him though. I suppose if he gets hungry enough he could shoot a squirrel in our back yard and whip up some squirrel and biscuits-a family recipe in his family! I kid you not and mean no offense, I just had no idea people ate stuff like that until I met him. I have yet to try the dish and don’t see it happening EVER. Or he could go to the grocery store for us. Again, there will likely be dead squirrels soon!
In addition, I have an alarming amount of laundry to put away. Truth-I haven’t put ANY away since I hurt my ankle. If my mom is reading this then she just had a stroke. Sorry, mom! This behavior would not fly in her house. Last week when packing for NYC I actually had to buy new socks and a couple layering shirts because I couldn’t find any in the piles in the guest room. I’m ashamed. All the little house projects I’d planned to do have been pushed to the back burner.
I’m hoping that this new plan will help my rise above and be my normal type A, go getter self. If not, I fear sliding further downward. Next thing you know I’ll be on an episode of hoarders. The dining room table looks like a prequel to the show already with mail, magazines, receipts, and junk piling up-something I’d never have done before. The backyard looks like a jungle with weeds climbing the fence. Soon military will be completing their jungle tactical training in our very yard. And the husband mentioned yesterday that since I haven’t been running, he hasn’t hardly ran either which he blames me for (he’s joking of course).
Yet despite all this, I’m still confident this plan will get me back in the game. Let just say being injured, no matter how minuscule an ankle sprain may seem, is no joke. They should provide support groups for controlling the crazy that ensues. If you’ve ever been injured, then I feel your pain. Maybe you experienced similar symptoms. If you haven’t been injured, you’ve been warned to the emotional aspects of being sidelined from something you love. I didn’t even talk about the affects of losing your fitness and having your pants get tight. There isn’t time enough for that.
This is the most unmotivated I’ve felt-EVER. This is the reason I don’t believe in quitting; starting over is so hard. Throwing PR goals out the window and having your new goal be just finish the thing and still be able to walk after is quite a mental shift. In all fairness, I was due. I’ve led a healthy running career thus far. I’ll be back at it in due time. In the meantime, I’m looking for new races, bribing myself that if I put away the laundry I don’t have to get groceries, and heading to Subway for dinner, oh, wait, I found another jar of PB so scratch that.
It is also times like now that I feel grateful. I know, where is this coming from after this rant? I get to heal and return to what I love. For some people who are seriously hurt or injured they don’t get that luxury. I’m so lucky I get to run again. In a year I will have forgotten what it feels like to miss something I enjoy doing. That is the beauty of appreciation! And now I have a TV show I can use to relate with my female middle school students this fall. I have no shame.
I’m still learning how to react, but with each new experience we grow. Having
peanut butter a supportive husband along the way helps, too.
Anyone else ever go crazy during a period of injury?