|Colette drew this super sad face...|
she really knows how to capture my emotion.
I’m totally bummed and in disbelief. The NYC Marathon, which I’ve run over 300 miles training for over the past 16 weeks, is on Sunday. That date has been noted in my calendar for the past three years (sandy, post-pregnancy, injury). This is now the second NYC Marathon that I have trained for and will not be running, but the heartbreak is worse this time. When it was cancelled post Super-storm Sandy, all runners we’re disappointed together, and the experience (or lack thereof, was shared). This time, 45,000 runners are running, running without me. I just want this week to be over.
I strained my adductor/hamstring over four weeks ago during a sprint exercise, following a 17-mile run without a stretch in sight and continued to run, stubbornly thinking it would go away. That has not been the case. Once I realized it needed professional attention, I’ve been in physical therapy three times a week trying to massage and stretch it back into top condition. It’s getting better, but so incredibly slowly. I can do everything without pain, except run.
|Post 17-mile selfie|
There’s a reminder at every turn of the excitement, joy, pain, and thrill, I will need to wait another year to experience. As I log into Fresh Direct, our online grocer, it highlights the best carbo-loading food to eat this week; I get on the subway and it’s plastered with “Get Your Amazing On” advertisements for the race; I receive daily e-mails from my on-line running coach pumping me up for the final stretch. Oh, shut the fuck up, I think to myself.
Also, Jeff is running it, and he’s unavoidable. He’s trained incredibly hard, harder than me and bought all the top running gear to prove it. He’s bummed for me and I’m jealous of him, so as you can imagine when he’s not stretching and I’m not icing, the sex has been amazing.
This really sucks for me (and a little for Jeff)…but I don’t want to be sad about it any more. Booze is helping. Muffins are too. But the biggest help is planning my comeback, which oddly enough doesn’t involve booze and/or muffins. I have guaranteed entry for NYC Marathon 2015 (as does my Sister and Jeff) and I’m going to be fitter and faster than I am now. You’ll see. You’ll be jealous.
As for this year, I’m going to be drunk on the sidelines with family and friends, full of emotions I’m trying to suppress. I might not be getting “my amazing on”, but I’m going to do my best to support all of those that are. Go get it…Bynne, Nikki, Jeff, Rachel, Ashley!!!
|Even when life sends shitty stuff my way, it's still really freakin' good. This is why.|