Last week I got in an 8 mile run and wasn’t able to walk down a step because my knee was killing me. Again. So running’s been out. I have one policy and that’s: you don’t fuck with knees.
When I first started running almost 2 years ago, this would not have bothered me in the least. I would’ve just not run until it didn’t hurt anymore. But Dopey has become the monkey on my back that won’t let me rest and despite my desire to cut back on my mileage because I did a marathon and now I just need some low mileage weeks because the darkness is depressing the hell out of me and mentally I’m all: I ALREADY JUST DID A F#$KING MARATHON LEAVE ME ALONE. Genug already with the running.
Oh, and did I mention that I seriously don’t want to go back to Disney World in January just so I can spend my week of vacation (and a buttload of money) either unable to walk or getting up before the sun four days in a row?
Then the frosting on this bitter, badly tasting cake is the demon of fatness that has me freaking out that if I don’t keep up a higher mileage my weight will balloon and I’ll lapse back into being a fat sedentary whale. Let’s just say I’ve had to tell myself more than once to put down the family size snack bag recently.
I know that when I stop and breath and think for a second I acknowledge that all of this is just normal. I’m burnt out, I know my knee needs time to get back to 100% before I go back to beating the shit out of it, and that with less mileage I need to adapt my diet accordingly so I don’t get off track. I’ve started daily weigh ins again, I’m trying to vary my diet and move away from the crapola I’ve been eating. I’ve resolved that after Dopey, runDisney and I are taking an extended break from each other-no trips to Disney World for awhile.
My mother’s advice: Go take some goddamn midol and stop running.