I think what precipitated it is not being able to run the race on Saturday. This race is the 11.6 mile one that's held in my very own city, starting and ending at our beach. While I haven't run it every single year that I've been running it (at least twice I was away), I've run it every single time I could. The race is free for goodness sake and the post race festivities are just plain fun. I was really looking forward to running it as this year was the 50th Anniversary race. But it became evident a couple weeks ago after I ran 8 miles and it took an entire week for my foot to feel like I wasn't going to die with every step, that while I could probably get through it, that wouldn't be the best idea I've ever had so I had to lay it to rest.
As friends have posted online about their intentions to run that race and others that are upcoming (fall is really distance race season around here), I can literally feel myself spiraling into sadness. Almost like I'm grieving. What makes this so odd is that I've had past years where I didn't race and it really did not bother me. I suppose this is a bit different though as it's not really a choice I've made as much as one I've been forced into.
I soothed my upset soul by keeping busy with my niece and nephew having them overnight Friday and all day Saturday. Amazing what time with a child can do to make you forget your own issues. And even though we spent the day at the very beach where the run was taking place, it turned out OK. I just stayed away from the area where I knew all my running friends would be congregated and concentrated on keeping Gracie from going into the water too deep. She's fearless that one and knows how to swim just enough to scare ME.
While all my other aches and pains (back, quadricep, shoulder) have healed with treatment, turns out my foot issue is one that ultimately only time will heal.. The doctor even insisted I go get another x-ray to make sure it wasn't an actual bone spur or worse like a stress fracture. But everything came back all clear. Which made it all the more frustrating that it seemed like it was getting better... and then it wasn't. I have some days that are pretty good and others where it aches so much, when I walk in the door in the evening, Mr. Helen says I look like I've been to hell and back what with the pain on my face.
The bad thing about all of it (other than the obvious not being to exercise and weight gain) is that I tend to be a bit of a hermit naturally and I've noticed as this has gone on that I don't want to do anything. I just want to go home, put on my shorts and a tank top and zone out. I don't want to email, talk on the phone, meet a friend for a glass of wine, nothing! I have no desire to be social. Not a good thing for me ultimately as I spend quite a bit of time alone at work as well. I can see myself easily getting sucked into a whirlpool of depression.
It's all such a vicious cycle isn't it? So here I am again at Monday, hoping for a better week in every way. Today at work I will concentrate on the encouragement Roz gave me last week and hope for better things.