Comeback Setback

No, the hurricane wasn’t the setback. I actually went running through my beloved city quite a few times post-hurricane to get an idea of what downtown looked like. It wasn’t pretty.

What a mess.

No matter the setback specifics, it just sucks. This last surgery and the following ridiculousness has set me way back in my getting-back-to-me journey.

Oh, back to the surgical floor again? Terrific.

I want to run and lift and spin and flow and get back to racing. It just seems that every time I turn the corner, there’s a wall. Mentally and emotionally, it’s exhausting and depressing.

Have you ever tried and tried and just not been able to get a freaking break? That’s what it feels like now.

I guess this is just where I am.

It’s not easy to feel like my body is fighting me at every turn. It sucks. Yeah, I’m pretty positive most of the time and I feel positive most of the time. But how do I get myself going again? Dammit.

I signed up for a 10K. There’s hot chocolate at the end of it and it’s in 6 weeks. That’s a challenge for me since 3 miles gets me going right now. I don’t anticipate any great speed, but I’ll give it a go.

Mmmm…chocolate.

I also am planning on logging a few miles with a fellow recovering gimp. It will be fun since we’ve never actually met except for virtually through an old friend. Fun!

When I’m all healed up, I’m going to let this man kick my butt.

Ladies & gents, if you want to kick your a** get to Steven’s class. Game changer.   (Image courtesy of Flywheel Sports)

 

I don’t want pity. I’m just saying that sometimes even the most positive, internally motivated people get the blues. Instead of wallowing, I’m fighting back.

I’m signing up for races even though I’m not ready to race, per se. That is, not in tip-top shape. But it’ll be FUN! I’m signing up for spin classes not because my numbers are gonna be awesome but because I know I’ll feel better when I leave class. I’m planning my spring running adventures and making sure I tell people so that they *secretly* hold me accountable.

Do what you know you need to do. Get out there. Go workout with a friend (or in my case, a stranger), force those workouts back into your schedule.

That’s what I’m doing. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Now go out and run!

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Keep Calm and Carry On: DON’T PANIC

When I started this whole blogging thing, I had a few goals in mind. #1. To share my knowledge about running, exercise in general and the human body with others #2. To be the change I want to see in the (IBD) world #3. To inspire people to be healthy.

I didn’t want my blog to be all about me and my own fitness journey and my IBD. Rather, I wanted it to be a place where I use my experiences to paint a broader picture about how to be the best runner/athlete you can be. I am totally on that journey and I hope that you are, too. I guess I don’t do too bad a job at that since one reader commented on a post where I mentioned my Ulcerative Colitis, “I didn’t know you have UC!”

But today I can’t think about anything else but Philly. So, today is all about me Being the Change I Want To See In the World and being open about my struggles with Ulcerative Colitis. If it’s not your thing, sorry for the detour in the blog. I’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow!

Between the added stresses that life seems to be constantly throwing my way (and everyone else’s, I’m sure) and my continued flare-up, I’m totally panicking about Philly. I just want to run. I want to be able to show up to the corrals and to have my pace be the only thing I’m worried about, not how many POJs are out there on the course. I want to worry about my clothes and my hair and how I will look in my pictures (don’t lie, you worry about this, too), not how I can communicate with my husband if I’m in trouble out there on the course like I was in Jersey.

So, today I am doing my best to Keep Calm and Carry On.

Image courtesy of Amazon.com

Did you know that phrase has its origins in WWII Britain? Yeah, that certainly makes me pause when I start to panic. What’s a little bathroom trouble when you’re comparing it to being bombed by Nazis? Eeek.

There are lots of places I am looking to for perspective because, in the long run if things get really bad, I will just do the half. I mean, I’m not obsessed with times and places and I certainly don’t beat myself up if I have to drop down to shorter distance because of my chronic medical condition. It’s not like I’m quitting. I know I will finish and that’s really the most important thing to me.

I mean, in the end, finishing is all that really matters. Ask Maickel.

But I DO wish I could race it without a care in the world.

Dr. Boz and I have a Plan. Not that I want to have to use The Plan. It involves a not-so-pleasant day of not-so-pleasant things, although the result will be that I can run virtually worry-free where the POJs are concerned. But, still, I don’t want to have to use The Plan.

I guess I wish I wasn’t sick. Isn’t that what it comes down to? I wish I didn’t have to deal with all this crap (Ha! That never gets old). I’m not one to panic about working out. In fact, it’s usually the one place where I feel most at peace and relaxed but it’s now something I get anxiety about, especially if it’s in a group setting. Or a new place. Or not near a bathroom. Or something I have to do for work where people are counting on me/paying for my time. So frustrating.

Ugh. So, I’m Keeping Calm and Carrying On and reminding myself of Maickel’s courageous finish and others who are “running” other “marathons”, experiencing things much, much worse than anything I’ve gone through. Perspective.

I will cross the finish line no matter how long it takes me or how many miles I decide to cover, given how I’m feeling that day. I will have a picture like these to show you in a little over a week:

 

Keep Calm and Carry On, everybody.

Now go out and run!