The physical therapist and doctor I have seen agreed that I will need around 6 weeks of limited activity and physical therapy before I can really start training again, and I will need to make sure I can run pain-free before I train hard again. I'm sure you can gather that this is hugely disappointing for me.
Intellectually, I know what I need to do. I know the stretches I should work on, and I know what activities are best for me. Physically, my body seems to understand it's limitations, and if I over-do something in the slightest, I certainly feel it. Emotionally, I'd like to make like my 3 year old and throw myself to the ground and flail my arms and legs and scream at the top of my lungs. Because even though my body slammed into the metaphorical brick wall a couple weeks ago, emotionally I still feel like I'm in motion. The rhythms of my long runs from weeks ago are still singing in me, the steady beat of my feet on the ground, the scattering of my thoughts and the saliency of my presence, just being there, in the moment, on the road, blissfully in motion. The challenge for me now is stepping away from that sense of peace I get from running, and finding a new rhythm, a new routine for the next month and a half or (gasp) more.
But, how do I find that sense of peace? What is it that will fulfill me the way running does? Here is a summary of the activities I can do, and my admittedly weak attempts at embracing them:
Yoga: I know, I KNOW! Yoga is good for me, I get it. I want to be walking around all loose and relaxed, telling people to "Namaste." But let me put it to you this way: have you ever tried to set up a tent, and you clip in the poles and then try to get the end of the pole in it's little sleeve, and the pole just won't bend? Like, you're trying to bend a piece of steel into this little pocket, and you're like WTF! And the tent flies up and away from you, resisting to that tiny bend it needs to take. Yeah, that tent pole is my body. Me doing yoga is like trying to bend steel. I'm sure it will be glorious when I get there, but it's gonna' be a bitch to set up that tent.
Swimming: I love the thought of swimming, I really do. The fluidity and gentleness of it, the ease of motion, the way you can hear your heart beating. But let's face it, getting into a bathing suit in my "off shaving season" is never pleasant, and the water is never as warm as I want it to be, and there is nothing graceful about me swimming. When I was training for a triathlon a few years ago, I went to a swim training group at a local gym, led by a coach who is also a successful triathlete. It was crowded, and we had to share lanes. I was with a nice woman who must have been 30 years my elder, who proceeded to lap me at least 3 times during the 8 minute warm-up. We were WARMING UP for pete's sake, and I got passed. 3 times. The coach pulled me aside after the warm-up, and very sweetly suggested I head to the farthest lane, you know, for the painfully slow swimmers (I was the only one in that lane), and he gave me ideas on how to "pare down", i.e. totally skip, the workout.
Walking: Okay, this one I can do. This morning I got up early, bundled up for the 16 degree weather, and then I did something a little crazy for me. I snuck earphones under my hat and listened to music as I walked! (Thanks to the inspiration from my friend at Running With Music). "This is not so bad," I thought, as I cruised along with a little skip in my step. Jack Johnson, Ben Harper, and Ingrid Michaelson all sang to me as I walked along the Montpelier streets, passing dimly lit houses where I knew people were just getting up to start their day. I tried not to look too longingly at the runners going by, their determined looks, headlamps and shiny tights all taunting me. Instead, the music put me in a trance, and I let the miles tick by. Suddenly I realized I must have been gone a long time, and I imagined my husband at home trying to get the boys ready for school, wondering where I was. I hurried the last several blocks home, sure I had been gone an hour. Of course I didn't think about looking at my phone to check the time, and when I stepped inside our warm, quiet home, my family was just getting up. I had been gone only 23 minutes.
I have some work to do over the next several weeks. If you happen to see me doing my best to bend at a yoga class, be kind. If you see me splashing madly in the pool and barely moving forward, don't worry, I'm okay. And, if you see me walking in the early morning, and you hear me singing Ingrid Michaelson at the top of my lungs, just please go ahead and give me the "thumb's up." I'm just getting used to a different motion.
P.S. You know those triathlons I was training for? This is me getting out of the water at one. Notice there is no one around me? Yeah, that's because I was the last one out of the water.
