August Love. Day 1.

I have always loved August, the ugly step-child of Summer.   Most people love June, with the onset of school being out and the relief that comes with that.  July is when Summer is in full swing.  Fourth of July, dinners out, weekends at the Hamptons.  Or wherever people go.

But August.  People start to dread going back to work, shopping for school clothes, binders and backpacks.  In fact, around here, school starts around August 9th.  I mean, there is literally no Summer left at this point.  We used to be able to shop for Fall clothes for, well, FALL.  Now? It’s hot until the end of September at least, so kids just go back to school in their Summer gear.

I remember as a young bride (the first time), I would get my August issue of Good Housekeeping, and read all the recipes and sit in the air conditioned house silently wishing for Summer to be over.  I LIKE it when it’s cold outside, forcing me in the house.  I would cook dinners for that husband who worked long and hard as a laborer, and then as a contractor.  But.  I wouldn’t leave the house.

I liked August also because I was self conscious in the Summer.  I was never bikini ready, even as a 20 year old, so all that pool and lake stuff was not appealing to me.

There’s hope in August, too.  Everyone’s attention is going toward non-Summertime activities.   The hope that all the stuff that couldn’t happen in the Summer, could happen in the Fall.

Which is exactly what this post is about.  I have no job.  I look daily.  I’m very lucky to have landed a sort of part time gig that will pay into my retirement…and I’m only 6 months away from being able to pull the whole thing…to live happily ever after.  School will start soon, and while I wish I could join the working crowd, I don’t long for the all night grading sessions, the teachers’ meetings or the inane minutia that goes with the job.

This August, I am focusing on Running Love.  Day 1 brings me the most favorite Nike Ad ever.  Leave your old self behind.  I can’t run.  But I get to.  On August 27th.  I hope.

So, instead of regretting my lost running Summer, I am embracing the hope that comes with the change of the seasons.  That instead of the Tucson Marathon, I will be running another one…somewhere else, and much later.  Life changes.  You can buy the bib, but you can’t always control the ability to use it.

Here we go.  Bring me some August Love.

GymRat

So.  Here’s the deal.

4 weeks in a cast.  4 weeks in a boot.

and now.

6 weeks of Non-Running.

I felt sorry for myself.  I did.

Everyone who knows me, knows I brought my running shoe when the boot was removed

As if…as if I could run out of the doctor’s office.  But.  No.

I gained 5 pounds, then more.

Mostly from inactivity, but also from self-pity.

I am now more determined than ever.

Not only to get my body run-ready.

But to get my mind out of the proverbial gutter of woe.

I am also mightily addicted to Hipstamatic, so I coupled my passion for photos…

with my passion for rediscovering the gym.

And waking up muscles that have been dormant.

The last few weeks, I’ve gotten a schedule going.

I saw sweat.  I burned.  I felt that great soreness the day after.

I lifted upper body, then worked on the core with the Nike Trainer Club app.

I did elliptical, bike and pool running from this site, sent by ultrarunnergirl Kirsten.

I’m journaling like a fiend on Livestrong’s Daily Plate App.

I’m trying to eat non-processed.  Well.  Except for the Diet Coke problem I have.

I’m adding protein, and trying to follow The Skinny Rules.

I had oatmeal and eggs for breakfast.  

Garlic steak & a protein banana berry smoothie post workout.

And yeah.  I got my focus back.

In the last picture, you can see the leg on the left that has atrophied.

Zero muscle compared to the right.

4 weeks.  2 days.  Until I can run, I’ll be at the gym.

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six.more.weeks.

you know how you were little and your parents said christmas was close

and you thought that meant, like tomorrow?

or how they said we’ll be off this windy road in 20 minutes

and it was another 2 hours?

yeah.  like that.

the doctor said today…after 8 weeks…that there are 6 more weeks.

and then.  i can run.

for now.

i can wear a shoe.

i can do the elliptical, bike, and swim.

in 2 weeks i can take a walk.  a leisurely walk.

i had brought my shoe to the doctor because i wanted to run.  tonight.

i asked him about the marathon in december.

he shook his head no.

i have to take 50,000 mg of vitamin d a week

*note to the old gals…do this one now*

i was near tears.  crushed.

and then i remembered, i have bad circumstances right now

how i feel about those circumstances in not as important…

as what i do about them.

i am not dying.  but it feels bad.

it’s a small caps kind of day and yet.

i remain hopeful.  i am blessed in more ways than i can count.

i can wear a shoe.  there’s one.

the boot dance is nearly over.

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Three days before my last marathon, I taped my foot, hoping for the best.

That was April 19th.

I went to the doctor who sent me to get an X-ray, and he said.

Do not run.

There was no break, so I said no worries, I can do it…and he ordered an MRI.

Which didn’t get approved in enough time.

So I ran a full marathon, and then a half marathon, and then did the MRI.

I was casted.

I was booted.

And now.  It’s 2 days away from my last appointment with the doctor.

Who will hopefully say I’m good.

I’m tired of the dance.

It’s been a long summer and 6 pounds back on my body.

I’m ready to pay the piper, and end this dance.

The end.

 

you know what’s not fun about a cast? summer.

aka known as:  what not to say to a casted person

  • can you swim with that?
  • how did you get that?
  • you ran a marathon with that?
  • did you get that before or after the marathon?
  • you know, i had to be in a stress fracture cast for a year
  • that must be really hard to get around
  • but you can walk in that, right?  i mean, you’re not REALLY handicapped, right?
  • are you on disability?
  • why did you get THAT color?
  • doesn’t that ITCH???
  • ooooh that looks like it hurts
rant. over.

it nearly got the saw today.

Today was the day.  The day that finally tweaked my brain.

The day that I nearly took a saw to my cast.

I just want to run.  I don’t want to go to the gym and do the stupid recumbent bike and lift weights anymore.

I just want to run.

I’m reminded of a few days ago when I had to have extra cast put on.  Yes, I need this to heal.  But today I didn’t really think about that.

I looked at the cast and started fantasizing how EASY it would be to cut it off with some good boning scissors.  Then I tried to remember where my hand saw was.  By the time I had spent limping around the house, getting my company off to her work, I had simply gone a little, well, stir crazy.

The cast.  I gained 2 pounds last week when they applied more fiberglass.  Then there were M&Ms at midnight, and a girlfriend who pizza’d with me last night…and this morning, that unmistakable groan that you heard from NorCal was me…looking at some weight gain that I simply could not ignore.

I’m in charge of donuts for our new AA meeting tonight.  I went to the market and got food for a salad and pasta tonight.   But, those donuts.  I gotta get those, and avoid shoving the fat and sugar into my mouth.  My son is a Freshman added to the Varsity Summer Basketball league and I get to watch him play.  These are the thoughts I put in my empty brain.

Because there is a low grumble, starting to become a mighty scream.

I want my shoes.  I want to run.  And I cannot wait.

Hide your scissors and saws, people.

I have 2 weeks left.

i feel a metaphor coming on.

so the other day, my foot starts to twinge.  i had not used the boot prescribed to me, and had worn through the bottom of the cast.  i even ran across the street once with the cast.  clearly, i am not treating my foot like it has a stress fracture.

i’m told by my bff that doctors put casts on runners because we will take off the boot and run.  i get that.

the bottom was so worn through, that the technician had to double cast, double stuff, and essentially create a new cast on top of the old one.

she starts to mini-scold me and says, “you know, it won’t heal properly unless you give it the 100% time it takes that is necessary.

last night i’m on the phone and i am resisting this cast thing, and i am counting 3 weeks and 4 days and i just want to be healed already.  but i’m not in charge.  all i’m in charge of doing is following the doctor’s direction.

but i want it done.  i want to run.

and it dawned on me.

because i tried to do something else too early this week too.  before the proper healing i need, i decided that my heart was fine, thank you very much, and i will do what i want, and ignored direction to just …heal.  i spent time with someone before i could.  and i thought i would be fine.  i don’t need the boot, and look ! i can even run across the street.

well.  it turned out great.  but he knows i’m not ready, and i’m not…having given my heart so fully after 4 years of singledom, i am simply not ready to get out of the cast yet.  because even just testing out the waters bubbled up sorrow that i was ignoring.

and i was able to say, no thank you.  not yet.  not now.  and i never say that.  i say what you want to hear, i ignore the orders, and i do what i want…it’s only later when i have this twinge, that i run back to the doctor to get more fiberglass.  the healing laughter of friends hoss and cherry, they soothe me more than i can say.   and texts with my bff in another time zone, and talks with sisters, and unwinding my writing…this is the salve of my recovery.

his response was amazing.  i felt heard.  and blessed. and cared for.

i simply have nothing to give, nothing to offer.  because my heart, like my middle cuneiform…it just needs rest and recovery.

when i run again, my feet will fly, and i will again feel the excitement of being out there.

and so it goes with my heart.

until then.  i’m in the cast, and  i wait.