"I just have to make sure that in my mind, I'm ready for being able to play with the pain." - Kim Clijsters
Seven weeks from tomorrow, I am going to run the Memphis Marathon. I'm not ready. I'm far from ready. I sprained my ankle last month, and every time I think it's on the mend, I have another setback. So now, I'm giving it all the rest I can.
I've run once in the last ten days, and that hurt. So I sit. I elevate. I ice. It's not good for me to sit this much. Running is much more than just exercise. It is my grip on sanity. It keeps my head clear. It brings me peace. Without it, my thoughts swirl and crash into one another. I get anxious. I become irritable.
And I look at my shoes. I look out of the window. And that just compounds the frustration. I just want to run.
I still go to the gym. I lift. I get on the elliptical. I should be swimming more.
I have seven weeks. I'm not in bad shape now. I'm just not in marathon shape. If I can get back on the road next week, then there is still hope. Hope of getting myself in a position to enjoy the race. I've already thrown the clock out of the window. This won't be my fastest marathon. But that doesn't mean that it can't be a good one. I can put in a lot of work in six weeks. If I'm healthy.
In the meantime, I sit. I elevate. I ice. I simmer. I try not to boil over.