I haven’t drafted a blog post in months. I haven’t even wanted to. Life has been fine and I am running again, but I’m far from where I was just a few posts ago. Seeing photos from when I was at my peak at the end of the summer makes me get a little sad, because my running has changed a lot since then. Gone are the speed workouts and the days when I darted through the door to give my husband a huge sweaty hug after nailing a hard workout. It doesn’t mean those days will never return, but when you have been dealing with an injury for 4 months and nothing really has changed, you get a little down and think you’ll never get back to where you were. Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you’re there now.
Fine, I was dumb and pushed my body really freaking hard, apparently too hard, and now I’m paying the terrible price of that. It’s not been easy. I love the adrenaline of 25×1:00 minutes at 5k pace, with 1 minute recovery. Those are the workouts that build character and physical strength. Those are the workouts I miss. I’ve traded my running shoes for a swim cap and a bike helmet, and while I do get similar endorphins from swimming and riding, when you peel back the layers and get down to it, at the heart, I am a runner. I can’t keep up with the fast guys/gals on the bike like I can on a run. I flop in the water like a dying fish while my new swimming buds zoom past me. I’m not used to that. I’m not used to being last or gasping for air trying to keep up. It’s been an incredibly humbling process.
I know seasons like this build strength inside us that a run/swim/ride never can. We learn who we really are when we find ourselves in the valley. Life in and of itself has been one big incredible mountain-top the past year, and for that I am immensely thankful. Simultaneously, however, there remains a gap in my life that I realized just can’t be filled with much of anything but a good, hard, gut-wrenching run. I know God calls us to tough places when our strength must be surrendered so we can feel his presence and know we can’t do this journey alone. I’ve felt that a lot during this injury. And despite how difficult it’s been, I do accept and appreciate that.
To say I’ve hit rock bottom and completely surrendered would be a lie. I haven’t. In some ways I wish I had, so I can just throw my hands up and say, “Whatever you want, God.” I know he wants us to do that. Maybe I’m on the road to doing that, and that’s why he’s allowed this shitty injury to linger when it should have been healed months ago. Besides, it’s just a little IT band nag, but if you’ve ever dealt with IT issues, you know a little “nag” can drive you up a wall with its inconsistencies and stealth. Ultimately, I don’t have the answers, but I do know life is more than how fast I am or even if I ever run again. As hard as that is to type, I do believe that. When you are in a valley in a certain area of your life, the word surrender becomes more and more powerful and attainable. Runners are control freaks. To deny that is like denying that the sun is going to rise tomorrow. Surrendering to the unknown of the future to a God you can’t see is so freaking hard. I know this is a running blog, and even if you don’t believe in God, I’m confident we all can agree surrendering to anything is difficult.
With all that said, like I mentioned above, I am running, and have even raced a couple times, albeit with unimpressive times, but I have improved as far as pain is concerned. The pain is not constant, however, it is inconsistent, and I haven’t really gotten answers from anyone, including professionals. Everyone says IT band pain is related to your glutes, and I’ve strengthened those things like a freaking psycho. All in all, I am on the right track, I do believe that, but it’s been an arduous journey.
With high hopes of returning to my old self again and promises to blog more frequently,