Return of the Blog
Updated: Feb 22, 2019
After the first week, my ability to regulate my emotions was deteriorating. By the end of the second, I spent most of the time I wasn’t at work or with friends and family fighting back tears. By the end of the third week, I was a full-blown sobbing mess before I went to bed every night. Being injured sucks. For nearly every person I know, waiting for an injury to heal is either mind-numbing or crazy-inducing and the same was very true for me.
I have a lot of interests outside of running and skiing but, for the first month or so, everything was off the table. No riding, no hiking, no climbing, no walking up stairs. I love to read and to write but I don’t find any lasting catharsis when I word vomit my feelings onto a page.
Now, 9 weeks after hitting those stupid trees, I am legitimately going crazy. My sanity is rooted so deeply in my ability to move my body that despite being cleared for more and more activity each week, I am realizing that I am slowly descending into the dark haze of depression. I feel a bit like an addict. I miss the high, the self-flagellating cadence of running further, faster, and longer than I’d done before; the thrill of pushing sharp edges into fresh/heavy/icy/wet/fuffy snow and carving through landscapes in a state of barely controlled ecstacy.
I know I’m lucky. This is a small blip and it won’t be one that I’ll suffer long-term or permanent damage from–aside from the pesky vein that likes to slip itself back and forth across the bones in my ankle–but I’m still struggling to maintain the positive outlook it takes to heal entirely from anything.
My lack of activity has taken its toll on the body I carefully shaped over the last 6 years—since my love affair with running began. Soft muscles and tissues run the length of my body in shapes I haven’t seen in just as long and my obsession with my image as an athlete has resurfaced. Out came the scale, out came the food tracker, out came old meal plans that led me down the dark path I was on in 2013.
Close to deleting my social media accounts, I am going old school with my ‘sharing’ and am returning to my favorite platform for sharing: my blog. Chronicling my slow journey back to fitness in hopes of managing to pull off at least 1 of the objectives Andy and I had slated for the Spring and in hopes of finishing (definitely not being competitive in) the 50M I have on the calendar for July. Here’s to hard work, smart nutrition, and my attempt at being positive.