Tuesday, January 25

Figuring out Plan B

They say when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade.

I say screw that. Give me a lime 'cause this homegirl needs a entire bottle shot of tequila. Pronto.

I know the "right" response to bad things happening is to say you're blessed for what you do have. To be humble about it and not whine too much. To look forward into the future and figure out your Plan B. But sometimes, well sometimes Plan B is just plain old crappy.

Like Sunday night for instance. Plan A was to make dinner with a side of green beans. Apparently that wasn't in the cards for me though. Mid stir, I found a maggot (EW!) in my veggies. (I'll spare you the picture of it, but rest assured we took one and promptly tweeted it to the grocery store we bought it from). Since I wasn't in the mood for bug-invested beans, Plan B called for frozen broccoli instead, which resulted in me spilling the pot of boiling water all. over. my. hand.

(I am aware of how completely ridiculous this looks. The first aid medic we spoke with told me saran wrap is a good alternative in the first hours because it allows you to soak the burn in cold water while still simultaneously having the antiseptic burn cream on there. Just a future tip in case you ever find yourself in this position. I'd also recommend actually washing your hair before allowing someone to take a picture of you and post it on the Internet. Ugh.)

So much for that Plan B.

My second dilemma comes in the form of my marathon training. Plan A was to run Barcelona on March 6th. Those of you who have read my marathon-related posts or follow me on Twitter know that I've been having a lot of problems with my shin. After a trip to the ER and several weeks of ice, elevate, repeat, there has been no improvement. I went to a sports therapist yesterday to get a better answer and it turns out I have "anterior compartment syndrome". From what I understand, the muscle has gotten too big for the sheath and is swelling. When I exert too much pressure on it (i.e. running), the swelling causes friction against the sheath and results in micro-tears along the muscle. ACS comes in two forms: acute and chronic. Because I've been running for two years, including half marathons, and this is my first instance of pain, we are hoping it is a one time thing. If it continues I will need surgery to cut holes into the sheath that allow the muscle to expand properly. While I love a good pampering as much as the next gal, the thought of surgery and being put out of the running game for that long makes me want to cry.

For now, my treatment is a lot of stretching. I am not allowed to do any form of impact exercise for at least the next 2 weeks. My only options are swimming and that weird arm spinning machine old people do at the gym. (Please tell me someone knows the machine I'm referring to. I tried finding pictures but typing "old people arm workout" into Google wasn't very efficient. Shocking)

I am a myriad of emotions at this point. I am angry, frustrated, disappointed, and relieved to name a few. I'm relieved to know that I'm not crazy. (Well concerning my leg anyway, the verdict's still out on my brain) I was beginning to think I was just being a big wimp about the pain. On the other hand, I'm frustrated and supremely bummed that I won't be accomplishing this huge goal I've set out to conquer. I know eventually I'll get to the point where I can tell myself to stop whining and be proud of the 12 weeks of training I did put in. I ran 15 miles in a blizzard in Boston. I shaved 6 minutes off my half marathon time. I've learned about muscles, proper running form, and training plans. All these are things to stand up and shout about and the logical part of me knows this...but every once in a while you just want to say screw it and throw yourself a pity party.

a pity party with chocolate. A LOT of chocolate.

I haven't figured out Plan B for this medical malady yet. I'd really like to do a marathon before Sean and I get married in September, so right now I've got my eye on either the San Diego Rock n Roll Marathon on June 5th or the San Francisco Marathon on July 31st. I'm also considering a race closer to home, with a fantastically flat and fast course in hopes of rocking an amazing time. (*cough cough* Boston Marathon dreams *cough*) Nothing is set in stone. I need to give myself a chance to heal and ease back into things.

So there we have it. My official announcement: I will not be running the Barcelona Marathon. I suppose my follow up announcement should be: Since I've already spent $400 on plane tickets and my entry fee, I will still go to Barcelona and instead of running 26.2 miles, I will be drinking my body weight in sangria. (If I learned anything from marathon training, it is the importance of staying hydrated)

Stay tuned, tomorrow will feature a post I am aptly titling "How NOT to train for a marathon". I've gleaned a few tips and tricks from this process that I believe are helpful to preventing injury in the future.

Until then, I bid you adieu. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills are hosting today's pity party and I've heard Cadbury is sponsoring it. (and we all know those ladies aren't going to eat any of it)

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