I cried today. It has been the first time I cried since my training for Chicago has been sidelined. Heck, it is the first time that I have cried in I don’t know how long. But I do know that since Tammy started acting up, the uncertainty of whether I will be able to run the Chicago Marathon has left me feeling blue. Last week, I only ran on Monday, when I realized that Tammy the Hamstring needed attention, so I turned to yoga and spinning on my wind trainer for the rest of the week. The rest helped; I noticed that the range of motion in my right leg improved over the seven days as did my strength and balance.
This past Monday, I was cleared by my physiotherapist to try some shorter distances so I ran 3 miles that afternoon. Tammy was still tight, but she wasn’t sore like she was the week before and I felt fine the next day. On Wednesday, I was starting to feel normal; my hips felt like they were opening up again and I seemed to be walking properly. At my physio appointment the next morning, I was told that the puffiness on the back of my thigh was down and the weird bruising, which started to surface when we taped my leg the week before, was disappearing. Things seemed to be progressing and I was encouraged, so I ran again on Thursday night; this time I covered 4 miles.
This morning, everything changed. I headed out for an easy 3 mile run and Tammy decided to start kicking me in the butt. At the one mile mark, I stopped my watch, walked home and cried. I have been doing everything right: my exercises, my warm-ups, rest, sleep, physio…but it hasn’t been enough for Tammy. She obviously needs more time.
Today was the first time that I have cried since my training for Chicago came to a halt. In the past two weeks, I have played the “what if” scenarios, including not starting. I have toyed with the idea of walking the 26.2 miles but that is not what I set out to do; I want to run the course, not walk it. I have thought about running part of the course and walking the rest, which I would be okay with if that becomes the plan, and I’ve considered running part and dropping out. But not once during the “what if” games that my mind played did I cry. Until today.
This afternoon, I decided that I am not going to run until Tammy is in better shape. I feel that my trying to run is like playing Russian Roulette; how much more can I push Tammy until she has had enough and really bites me in the butt? I looked into pool running as a way to supplement my training and was ready to buy a belt, but I don’t want to pool run. When I put things in perspective, I reminded myself that running Chicago is suppose to be fun, so I don’t need to torture myself with things that I don’t want to do. Instead, I will continue to ride on my wind trainer and go to yoga; I’m even willing to start swimming again. If I don’t start in Chicago, so be it. There is always another marathon. As I walked with my youngest in the late afternoon and felt Tammy’s presence again, I realized that taking a step back like this is the best thing for me.
I am trying to stay positive but there will likely be more tears between now and October 7th while I figure out what exactly Tammy has planned for me. Who knows? Maybe I will be able to pull a miracle out of my butt and I’ll be able to chase my dreams sooner than I think. Only time can tell.