Today, I have a different sort of recipe for you. It’s a recipe for either failing or winning at Valentine’s Day – and not really knowing which side of the line you fall on. It’s definitely not for everyone, but it’s working wonders for me… or at least I think it is.
I think it’s best to start last week – when the failing (or winning) began. I went to CrossFit on Monday, only to discover that I couldn’t finish my squat with a full hip extension despite working from a lower weight than I usually do. “Stand Up!” Craig would yell, to which I’d reply, “I AM!” I wasn’t. Not even close. Disappointed, I decided to lay off CrossFit for a couple of days and focus on my running game. I laced up my shoes on Wednesday and headed out for an easy jog down Seattle’s waterfront and back. I didn’t make it more than a mile before pain started shooting up my legs into my lower back. I took the bus home. Definite fail.
I had a problem. Six weeks out from the first half marathon of the 2013 season, I couldn’t run a mile without serious pain. I found myself in the office of a sports rehab doctor on Thursday, ready to hear what was wrong and how I would have to go about fixing it. As it turns out, I have a repetitive strain injury in my TFL bands, which is affecting almost everything about my CrossFit and running game, while making it particularly difficult to make it through 8-10 hours of Gaucho madness. The doctors at the clinic have prescribed six weeks of three-times-a-week physical therapy. Sounds fun, right? If you’re not jealous yet, you will be soon: as a result of the massive pain I’ve landed myself in, I decided to postpone my trip to Bali… which can’t be rescheduled until the very end of April because of work. 10 days before I was supposed to leave the country for a much-needed beach-sitting marathon, I was grounded. In Seattle. In the middle of winter.
Great week… right? I finally made it back to CrossFit yesterday for a much-needed workout. And thank God I did, because I really needed the endorphins a couple hours later. After weeks of trying to figure out if it was working or if it was’t working, I decided yesterday that the relationship-of-sorts that I’d worked out with a person-of-interest was a complete waste of time. Somewhere between network marketing, horoscope devotion, community college classes, and band practice, I knew that he wasn’t quite on my level. So, I broke up with him. On the day before Valentine’s Day. Which makes me
kind of a jerk.
Am I winning yet? As it turns out, I kind of feel like I am. Despite feeling like I have the body of a 75-year-old woman and finding myself single on Valentine’s Day (again), I woke up today feeling really, really good. I don’t have a hangover. I don’t have any anxiety. I’m not stressed out. I’ve rescheduled Bali for April 23, when I am now able to leave for up to a month instead of two weeks. I’ve been handed a new consulting project at work that will help pad my pockets a bit in advance of Bali and leave potential for more projects in the future. And, I’m feeling mobile in a way that might not feel good, but that I’m certain will help me be a better athlete in the years to come. All that coupled with the fact that I’m not stuck in a relationship with someone who didn’t give me time to order lunch when I’d been waiting for him for two hours yesterday afternoon… and I’d say that Valentine’s Day 2013 is shaping up to be much better than I thought it would. My body’s a little bit broken and my relationship is definitely broken up, but I feel quite good about it.