It seems that I have come face to face with a runner's worst nightmare. No, not missing the race because I wrote down the wrong day (although that is a frequent nightmare of mine). I have an injury. An injury that has me sidelined from all weight-baring activity including but not limited to walking, running, and planking.
I partially tore my peroneus longus tendon. This along with tendonitis and a neuroma has me in an Air Cast walking boot for 6-8 weeks.
My next half marathon is in 12 weeks. It' not just a half marathon. It's a 5k, 10k, and half marathon back to back over three days. I am scheduled to repeat the same thing minus the 5K a month after that...
Devastated was the word that first came to mind when I got my diagnoses. I felt like all of my hard work over the past 10 months had been for nothing.
A week in bed has made me think differently. I have had a lot of time to reflect on the past year. On my training, on how far I have come physically and more importantly how far I have come emotionally.
Running has become my therapy. It's become the tool I use to measure my strength and it helps me persevere. When I feel like I can't possibly deal with something, when my anxiety or depression gets to be too much, I think about how I've felt about a mile or two from the finish line. I have felt like I can't possibly go on, I can't make it to that finish line, I need to stop and quit and yet... I keep going. I keep going and I finish strong and I earn that medal and I earn that pride.
I ran my first race less than a week after being released from the hospital. I finished. I finished strong and the next day ended up back in the emergency department because apparently I also had the flu on top of everything else.
I am not going to let this stop me or hold me back. I am going to rest and recover and then I am going to run or walk or crawl my way to those finish lines.
"She turned her cant's into cans and her dreams into plans."
#sixweeksoftorture on Twitter @ladynwonderland and on Instagram @LadyHill