Exactly what I was mumbling under my breath at mile 6.5 of my 11 miler yesterday. The 11 miler that I couldn’t finish because my f*&^%ing ITBS decided to make an appearance. A BIG one. After not making an appearance since this. 9 BLASTED MONTHS AGO.
There’s something, shall we say – dehumanizing – when you have to admit to yourself that all the stretching, twisting, smacking the side of your knee, swearing, ignoring, and pretending that the pain you’re feeling is all in your head, just isn’t working. You give in, admit defeat, and throw in the towel. And if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re 3 miles from home, don’t have a phone, and pretty much can’t think straight, you would just sit down and cry where you stand. But you don’t. You recognize the pain for what it is. You cry yourself home, maybe stopping just once to tell your troubles to the friendly neighborhood peacock, who really is more interested in whether or not you have something he can eat.
All kinds of craziness start flying around, filling your head space with everything from, “this is just a temporary setback”, to “why NOW, when I have Wine and Dine in a MONTH?!”, to “I’ll never be able to get through a full marathon when I can’t even get through 7 FREAKIN’ MILES!!!”. And I can tell you, having all this crap taking up said head space is not a good thing. But since you have no choice, you put one foot in front of the other and trudge your way home. And as you round the last corner, you see this guy…
…running towards you as fast as he can on his gimpy foot, with the biggest, silliest grin on his face, because he’s just happy that you’re safely home once again. And as he gets to you, the waterworks go into overdrive. And he does what he does best – holds you, tells you we will figure out what’s wrong, and either fix it, or chop off your leg. Okay, maybe not so much that last part. But he lets you have your pity party, and then makes you move on. Because that’s what an awesome pit crew chief does. And we all know there is NO way we can continue to do what we do without them and all of their glorious awesomeness.
Like so many of my ramblings, they start of with an idea in mind, and so often they end up taking a path of their own. Such is the fate of my game show dollar machine brain. This was going to be all about how debilitating ITBS can be to a runner, and a reaching out to see what who’s suffered with it, and how you get/got through it. But somewhere along the way, the fingers took a 90 degree turn on the keyboard and…well…here we are.
So as I sit here with compression calf sleeves on, and an ice pack on my knee for the second time today, my mind once again wanders. Will I EVER get past this pain? It HAS been two BLASTED years now, for crying out loud. When is enough enough? Was it too much to attempt after the last distance run being a 10 miler 3 weeks ago? Is there more I could be doing to prevent it? Of course there is Black Dog, but have you been DOING IT??? #RUNNERFAIL
Maybe we all just need a reality punch up side the head and this is mine. I’ve been lax on the gym and lax on my therapy exercises. AND THIS IS WHAT I GET. So from here on out, it’s game on. No more giving up the gym for laps in the pool, because that’s not gonna cut it. No more excuses, no more whining that I’m tired, and no more nonsense. It’s well past time to GET TO WORK. AGAIN. Because THIS girl, needs to get find her mojo again. Quick.
Enjoy the ride.
Ever been sidelined by an injury and didn’t know what to do about it? How long was it before you could run again? Any words of wisdom?