Last night, I had a brilliant idea. I would wake up and do the Lotte Berk Method, getting all loose. Then I would try some walk-running, or run-walking.
At 4 a.m., when I woke up, it still sounded pretty good. I was excited! Maybe I could get back into running after a month off.
I put the exercise DVD on and did the warm up. I stretched my legs and back a bit. Then I put on my raingear and attached the music and headed out, hope in my heart. A gibbous moon shone brightly between wispy clouds. I walked to the end of my street and crossed the intersecting street. I started running. Three steps in, I knew it wasn’t going to work. I turned back home. Foiled again.
Frustrated, I did a hodge podge workout with jumping rope, kettlebells and such, making sure to stretch well at the end.
I cannot hurry this recovery, much as I would like to. It is humbling and frustrating and annoying. I want to run again. I feel like I’m being punished for bad sportsmanship or double dribbling. It’s very humbling. “Surrender, Dorothy!” I guess maybe God needs to write it in the sky for me after all. Sigh. Not that I would be able to *see* it, what with it being overcast and all. But you get the point.
I have to look at all the things I can do. I can still walk – though not far. walking is supposed to be good for this type of injury but all I find is that it hurts like hell. I am healthy in all other respects. I can still function normally, even though it feels like my soul has been cut out and left in a dumpster.
It’s a matter of perspective. Nobody wants to be around someone who is moping or feeling sorry for themselves, least of all me. I need to celebrate where I am right now. I’ve been holding onto this “toy”, a.k.a. my body, thinking that I can make it better. I should probably take my own advice. All I can do is enjoy the journey and keep on stretching; I can’t make my back heal any faster. It’s simply not in my purview. To be fair, I hurt much less than I used to. I am hardly on any medication at all and don’t need a heating pad constantly attached to me like a removable hunch. Uncle, already!
Can I learn to be grateful even now? Stay tuned.