WARNING: This post is whiny. Proceed at your own risk.
Oh Virginia weather, what are you doing to me? Tuesday night we were settling in for the only real snow storm Northern Virginia saw this winter and this weekend: sunny, 60, gorgeous, heartbreaking. I may have been called a drama queen recently, not sure why. Actually here is how the conversation with my sister went over text:
Me: <whine whine whine>
Me: That might be the answer, I’ll check with Lawrence.
Sister: You are being obtuse. I meant DRAMA QUEEN.
Me: OH, well I think Dairy Queen is a better thought.
(FYI, Blizzards are the cure for everything. But I digress.)
I think my bitterness hit an all time high Saturday morning as I drove to the gym. I didn’t want to be inside on the elliptical! I wanted to be outside running in my favorite running weather! And it’s totally normal to resent every runner you pass in your car, right? Who do they think they are out running? Don’t they know it’s really rude to be outside running where I might see them when I can’t run? I hate them all! (That’s not dramatic, that’s just normal… sure it is.)
I think I always go through the same stages when dealing with an injury. When I first realized that I was going to have to take some time off, I was fairly positive, disappointed but optimistic. “Okay, this isn’t ideal, but I’m going to cross train like it’s going out of style. I’m going to do yoga and get a stronger core. I’m going to lift weights and get ripped. This is going to be SO FUN!” And those thoughts carried me through the first couple of weeks. Now, I’ve moved on to stage two. We’ll call this the wallowing stage where my thoughts turn from, “When I can run again…” to “OMG, I may never run again!” From: “I’m going to hit the gym every day so I can maintain the fitness I’ve worked so hard to gain.” To: “I’m going to lay on the couch and eat every last crumb of junk food we have in the house. And once I run out of that, I’m going to call Lawrence and have him pick me up more on his way home because getting off the couch is definitely not an option.” It’s usually around this time that I stop exercising because the thought of one more minute on the elliptical is too horrifying to even consider.
But when I take a breath and stop being so dramatic, the reality is that I’m grateful. I’m grateful that I have a gym membership that allows me to cross train when I can’t run outside. Not only that, but that I’m not hurt so badly that I CAN’T cross train. That I have the ability to work with a trainer who will help me become a more well rounded and less injury prone athlete. That I’ve rediscovered spin class which makes my legs scream. I think if I heard, “Give me a quarter turn to the right!” one more time on Sunday, I would’ve cried. That I will run again… eventually.
Do I know this post is ridiculous? Yes. In the scheme of life, this isn’t even a blip on the radar. My family is healthy, I have a roof over my head, food on the table. But I also feel like it’s okay to acknowledge these feelings I’m having. That it’s okay to be sad. But it’s also important to keep it in perspective. Life is good. Running is a fun hobby but it’s not life. In the meantime, I will attempt not to give into the wallowing too much.
And maybe eat a few Blizzards. Yum.