Sometimes I think I am really stupid. I pushed it too much and hindsight can kiss my ass. I ran two days in a row…and I was on cloud nine.
I was SO DAMN HAPPY that I ran those two days. every step I was thankful, every breath I was smiling and all the sweat, the torture and the challenge, I loved every single damn breath of it.
Until the day after when I could hardly walk. Now it is three days later and I can still not walk with out pain. So it is my own stupid fault that I tried to act like I was some “young twenty-ish year old” who could heal quicker then the average Joe?
If I tell myself I’m too old to try, then I WILL BE to old to try. If I do not push to see my limits , I will NEVER know my limits. I am just all heart and no head. ( So I am told)
I don’t know anymore– now at this point , my spirit and excitement is demolished and I am fearful, terrified I might have to give up.
Three days after running for two days in a row, I can’t walk well. My Physical Therapist gave up on me and scheduled an appointment a month out, why? Because I’m hard-headed and didn’t listen, but still, I’m all heart. So what, I am on my own now and who cares at any rate anyway? I have always been on my own and always will be on my own…that’s fine.
On the runs, I took it slow, I took it easy because it was my first time off the treadmill and in the dirt. I can now not walk easily and without pain. It was orgasmic being able to run on my old stomping grounds, running with the scenery, the kind of scenery that some people only see on tv, running in my comfort zone, my place, my heaven, my smokehouse, my freedom, I guess I can’t have that anymore!!
I fucked myself up. I did get defeated by the Garden and I fear, I am faltering, I am refusing to accept the inevitable , but starting to wane towards bike riding. I hate bike riding. Not really hate it, but I LOVE running. Bikes get flat tires. I guess runners get broken ankles and screwed up joints.
I’m so angry. I get a little taste of what I have missed for months and months and then I think I am on my way, working slowly towards my old routine. Then whammo, “so sorry so sad, you can’t do that, not now, not ever”. What kind of sick joke is this?
So what is it? I have to wait an entire year to restart? You know how hard that is? I am so entirely pissed off.
Damn it, I am so entirely mad at myself.