Its been 10 years since my last running injury.
Now, I need to start off by saying that a large part of my last decade has been spent pregnant, nursing, sleep-deprived and totally unable unwilling to consistently run….no surprise that I haven’t pushed myself to the point of pain.
But this year, I have found my stride. SweetBabyJ is two…and it’s been much easier to find time to train. I’m fitter, and consequently faster, than I have ever been. What started as a quest to reclaim my fitness and find a few minutes for myself has become an obsession…how much can I improve…seeking my potential. I won’t know for years the outcome of my mothering style, but every day, every race I have a solid data related to my fitness. I cling to this.
A few weeks ago (when I started writing this post), I twisted my ankle. Nothing major, but it hurt enough to make me wince on stairs, and I had to take (gasp!) two days off from running. In retrospect, it was the right decision, but at the time I agonized. I had just decided to sign up for a November marathon (my first in nine years), and I was so worried that this injury would scuttle my plans. What if it was a serious injury? What if my missed runs impacted my ability to finish the marathon? And on, and on, and on…(I’m a bit of a worrier)
Of course, I rested, I ran, and all was fine. My time-out cleared my head and rested my body. Just like with kids. My children, precious angles that they are, have never responded well to discipline. I’ve spent almost SIX years pulling out my hair out trying to figure out how to get my girls to LISTEN. And no matter what method we try, we always come back to time-outs…getting the girls away from the situation so they can calm down and THINK.
Of course it doesn’t always work…and sometimes those injuries linger longer than one would wish. But rest is a good thing…and something that in life and in motherhood, we just don’t get often enough.
Run, Mommmy. Run! 