December 19, 2008

Its Not Betty Davis Eyes, But Eric Heiden Thighs

I was given the two thumbs up by my doctor to taper down to 16 miles tomorrow. (That would be as opposed to being grounded and not training.) We’re still working through the injury. He says I can do this.

I’ll be honest, if my doctor says I can do this, then I know I can. I personally have lost all faith in my body and what it can do, but if HE says I can… then I know I can do it.

The minute he has doubt in me… we’re in trouble.

And I cannot put into words how much I appreciate all the support from all of you. Reading the email and comments… the encouragement, has been priceless. They say 26.2 is all mental... and it is. It is my readers and friends that are tipping the mental game into my favor.

Heavily.

It was a tough week this week. I felt myself putting on the good face at a lunch during a field trip I chaperoned. I was depressed and wanted to be alone, but overall, I think I did pretty well, staying engaged in conversation and trying to keep myself up for everyone.

Too much death and dying at our school, and its kind of doing a mind game on me… in particular as until yesterday, there was a remote possibility that my Team in Training partner I’ve been training with, the girl I call Paula of “Run! Paula Run!” fame, had Leukemia.

Her meeting with the oncologist yesterday came back negative.

If she’d been diagnosed with Leukemia during this training, as we train for a race to fight blood born cancers, I’m not sure where I’d have gone emotionally. (Leukemia/Lymphoma/Multiple Myeloma runs in the women in her family.)

So I got the good news she is fine, but not before I went training on the treadmill last night.

I was in a very bad place… thinking of the latest parent at school that died, rethinking the very bad thing I saw on Wednesday night that still has me messed up, dwelling on some family issues I’m not going to blog upon, and the thought that Paula had Leukemia.

I was to do 40 minutes and 30 minutes into it, listening to Remember When It Rained by Josh Groban, over and over, I either had to cry or vomit.

I chose to vomit and cranked the treadmill to an 8.5 minute mile and kept it there for a few minutes until I realized I might hurt myself and by then, the anxiety was quelled.

I went in today to see my doctor. My Iliotibial band is in good shape. We caught it in time. My calf is at status quo, which is good.

I had on a pair of shorts and he was stretching me, massaging my hamstring, checking all the tendons and muscles in my legs and he laughed and said, “Look at these hamstrings! These are GREAT!”

I laughed and said, “Yeah, I told my sister when I tried on her Hot Chili long underwear that I ran in, “Look at my legs! I look like Eric Heiden!””

He laughed because… if you’re really into the Olympic Sports… you’ll get it.

So. Sixteen tomorrow as we taper down. I laugh. Two months ago I’d have freaked at the prospect of 16 miles and now I casually say, “We’re tapering down. I’m only doing 16…”

Heh. With my Eric Heiden hamstrings…


Remember When it Rained

Posted by Boudicca at December 19, 2008 09:36 PM | TrackBack
Comments

If the doc is good with it, I KNOW you'll do it and you'll be great. Remember there's always the wheelchair race instead. ;-)

I'm very sorry about all the bad crap around you. Hang in there.

Posted by: Teresa at December 19, 2008 09:44 PM

I know you can do it. I'll keep sending good thoughts your way. About Eric Heiden, I know what you're talking about. I put the picture of him from our newspaper from the Olympic Games in my Senior Memory Book.

Posted by: Tina at December 19, 2008 10:03 PM

Teresa- I watched the wheelchair race when I did that half marathon a couple weeks ago. Those folks are AMAZING!!!

And... any crap I'm going through, pales in comparison to what you've just gone through. It is tough watching children lose their parents... watching families suffer losing both parents.

Tina- The man was a tremendous athlete. I remember just staring at his legs. Good Lord... what an amazing physical specimen of what some bodies are capable. Good genes... there's Beth too.

Posted by: Bou at December 19, 2008 10:22 PM

LOL Bou. The post I wrote (that will post in the morning) includes the phrase "an easy 16"! Because compared to 20, 16 is easy! Words I never, ever thought I'd say/write.

My running buddy broke her foot this afternoon. She cried and cried on the phone to me. What can I possibly say to her? Just the other night, I said to my husband, "I only have to go three more weeks without injuring myself." Because at this point, I am most afraid of an injury making all this hard work moot.

Posted by: wRitErsbLock at December 19, 2008 10:34 PM

I am sick for her. All that training and now... nothing. I am sick for her.

I hit something wrong today and slid and kept thinking, "NO!" as I pictured all the tendons in my foot pulling. I need to go live in a box for the next few weeks.

Posted by: Bou at December 19, 2008 10:36 PM

I'm half tempted to come to Florida to cheer you on at the big race. I would totally bring a boom box and play the Rocky Theme as you run/walk your last mile or two. I would actually jog beside you and play it . . . then I'd die at the finish line cause exercise - me? seriously? :)

Posted by: Oddybobo at December 19, 2008 11:05 PM

Did I miss something? 'Cause I am pretty sure it's Betty DAVIS eyes....and I know Bou wouldn't make a mistake like that....I gots to have missed something....

Posted by: Rave at December 19, 2008 11:10 PM

Hey, I'd share my sports beans with you!

If I never see another frickin' sports bean the rest of my life, it will be too fickin' soon. I look at them in their little clear packages and just the sight makes the bile rise in my throat. I need someone else to eat them... ;-)

I may have some sort of contest on my blog and start mailing out sports beans as the prize.

See what you've done, Oddy? You bring me great ideas!!! We went from Rocky, to running with me, to my giving you sports beans and my coming up with an idea on how to get rid of them! Whoo hooo!

BTW, if you come, you can't die on me. Someone needs to haul my body across the finish line. I suspect there won't be a sub 5-minute mile crazy lady sprint at the end of THIS race... its too daggum long.

How I long for 13.1 miles... and to get this frickin' ice off my leg. I'm beat. I'm starting to incoherently blather...

Posted by: Bou at December 19, 2008 11:15 PM

Dammit. Its like that habit I have of teh, that I'm constantly correcting.

DAVIS! Its like Dave BArry... not bErry. Lovely.

Its corrected... I hope. I need to find my damn glasses... its been a frickin' week now since I saw them last.

Posted by: Bou at December 19, 2008 11:17 PM

Bou - I hear ya about losses, especially at this time of year. A good blog-friend died very unexpectedly this week - he was 34. Heartbreaking to be sure.

You can DO this - you'll get thru it because you've been persevering all this time.

Posted by: Kris, in New England at December 20, 2008 12:38 PM