I skipped my swim today.
I was so mad, so angry about not being able to run that swimming — my “substitute” to running — just felt like a slap in the face.
When a family member suggests that you “not run any more marathons” in the future, how are you supposed to receive that? I’m injured. I have a stress fracture that is healing at a snail’s pace. Sure, I think about running all the time but I am in no manner thinking about when my next marathon will be. And, of course I have had flickering thoughts about whether or not I will even decide to run a marathon again.
I know I’m not the only injured runner in the world. I know there are people who have experienced far worse set-backs in their life.
But, in my little world, it’s all a big deal.
I have a second opinion scheduled for next month — the soonest I could be seen, of course — and this appointment is now my one glimmer of hope.
I still do have hope somewhere deep inside.
(Even if I feel broken, frustrated and beyond angry).