Sometimes I’m a much better idea person than a follow through person. For example, I had this amazing idea to start a blog that would keep me accountable as I buckled down and focused on getting healthy and in shape. I wrote a post and then took a much needed sabbatical. Being so creative is exhausting.
Truth be told, I stalled a little because I am stalled a lot. Another amazing/crazy idea I had a few months ago was to run in three races on back to back to back weekends. “Is this crazy to run three weekends in a row?” I asked Husband. He responded with silence which always means, “yes, but I’m afraid to tell you that.” So with his ringing endorsement, I signed us up for three races: Remember the 10, Pat’s Run and the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon 5K. It was January, I figured by April, I’d be in great shape and this would be a triumphant accomplishment.
Life got in the way and here I am limping into my third and final race discouraged. I’ve struggled with my feet going numb while running for about three months. The first time it happened, I was running in my neighborhood and somewhat panicked. I didn’t have a phone and thought, “Well, this is where I will die. In this cul-de-sac.” But I hobbled home. For I am an overcomer.
The problem has come and gone, but recently has gotten worse and it feels like I’m running on stumps. You know how pirates have wooden legs? But only one, usually? This is like being the no-legged pirate girl (some might call me a wench). It’s awful.
During our first race, I set a goal to run the entire time, even if it was a slow pace. Right around 1.7 miles my feet went numb. Husband encouraged me to “run through it” which elicited feelings not similar to love. Out of spite, I did run the rest, but it hurt and I hated it.
So later that day, I bought new shoes that are wider for more toe box room, whatever the hell that is. No dice. Race number two, Pat’s Run, was a dud. The event itself is amazing and so worth being a part of, but my performance was less than spectacular. I lamented as we stopped to walk, so I could flex my toes and get some circulation, that I had now reached the point where running wasn’t enjoyable at all anymore. Maybe the third race would be my last.
And then little snippets of motivation kept popping up. First I was reading an article in the Players Tribune written by Enes Kanter about Russell Westbrook and saw this:
Russell Westbrook, who I have a lot in common with (we both live in Oklahoma City, we both hate losing, the list goes on and on) doesn’t care what the excuse it. He doesn’t focus on what you can’t do, but rather what you can do.
Then I was reading a Runner’s World post about a woman who did 50 crunches a day for a month and what she learned from it. What I learned from it was that she was already skinny, so unlike Russell Westbrook, we didn’t have much in common. I also saw this and said, “Okay, universe. I see your point. OKAY!”
So maybe instead of channeling the 2016 (and every year before that) version of me, I’ll embrace 2017 me. The new me isn’t going to let peg legs stop me from running. I’m going to figure out what the problem is. I’ll turn to the internets where all the right answers exist and self-diagnose. This will be fine.
Also, I’m going to see a chiropractor and start doing yoga and stretches. I’ll find a solution. This is a detour, not a dead end.
I’m not going to let a setback make me a quitter, that would make me a certain Golden State Warrior. I’m the middle-aged, suburban Russell Westbrook. I will get better…and scream in your face as I do it.