Ashamed, guilty…. when I think of other words that go with feeling bad, I’ll let you know. Perhaps I should not feel this way. Perhaps I should blame it on the alcohol. That seems like a great idea. Curious? Sure you are.
I am in walking distance of a gas station. I drank 3 glasses of wine and then decided that I needed some candy. Twizzlers, of course. So I walked my happy butt to the gas station. Here is where the guilt comes flooding.
I didn’t feel entirely ashamed until I almost reached the building. I then realized that my walk was more of a mall walk and could constitute as running. The one thing that I am not supposed to do; the one thing that I long to do. I crave the open trail more than anything. Apparently, without consciously thinking about it, so does my body. This is where I pout. When I bought my candy, the store clerk asked if I was a runner because of the shape of my legs. This was either true or a way to strike up a conversation. I’ll give him the first for the sake of my ‘running ego’. Yes, I have multiple egos, and they have names. Upon hearing this, I instantly thought he must have seen me “walking” towards the store. Then I second guessed my inconceivable thoughts and went with my ever-growing ego and thanked him. “I know, I know”, said my enormous running ego. Then I told him about my injury and how I suddenly felt ashamed that I walked here in the first place. I told him about my increasing urge to run and my excuse was to make a trip for candy, even though I didn’t need Twizzlers. Let it be know that this conversation happened because of wine. I do not talk to random people too often.
We all may be very aware that alcohol reveals our true intentions. Mine is a deep desire to get back to running and the obvious need to socialize. I mall walked back home and this time I knew what I was doing, but the alcohol told me not to care. It’s just walking!! Geez!! I felt guilty and that is why you are reading this story. I feel better. Thank you.
On to my recovery. There are 60 days left until the marathon. I’m a bit nervous. I am over my cry baby phase, (mostly), and decided to get in that gym and get over this injury. I cycled. It felt good. Today I went to see a trainer. She was great, also a runner, and gave me great tips and exercises to do. I think this injury comes as a blessing. Sure I can’t do what I want, but I am finding that I’m not doing what I need. I’m missing out on things that will help improve my running skills because I am so focused on the skill itself, running. I knew I needed to cross train, but I never thought it a huge priority. In turn, I injured myself. Not cool. So thank you injury. 1: for making me sad. 2: for making me realize that things happen for a reason. Don’t believe that, re-read this post.