This has not been my proudest week on record.
Saturday, after having a great run, I went out to dinner and a movie with the girls. After dinner, I had to call Billy to bring me the spare key because I'd locked my keys in my car... with the radio on (I may have locked my keys in the car at some other time in my 10+ years of driving, but I can't remember a time that I have).
Sunday, I went to the grocery store, loaded up my cart with groceries, and proceeded to the checkout line. After the cashier started ringing up my food, I realized that my wallet was sitting on my desk at home. I had to drive back home to get it.
Monday, I had another good run, but the pain in my knee afterward was unsettling. I iced my knee, and it felt fine after that, but I decided I needed to get one of those knee-strap tendinitis things to wear for the rest of my training.
Tuesday, on my way out of the parking lot after class, I hit the car in front of me. Yes, I just totaled my car about 3 months ago. Yes, I thought I was a good driver before that. Yes, I have been extra careful about following distance since my accident. I have no idea how it happened except that I hate Lot 1 at UMCP. The person I hit sat in the car for a minute while I panicked, and then drove off. I followed the car for a few turns, thinking the car could pull off somewhere, but it just sped off. Yes, I know this was lucky... but I have this nagging fear that they got my license plate number and I will get out to my car one of these days to busted mirrors.
Tuesday I also found an article online that says the National Half and Full Marathons are about to fill up. The organizer was quoted saying he is worried about breaking the news to people that were hoping to qualify in the next few weeks who aren't able to make it in. If I can't qualify Saturday, my chances might be over. Then Billy tells me that the NWS is predicting a 40% chance of snow Saturday morning during my run. Awesome.
Wednesday, I went to the running shop in Annapolis to get the knee strap. I put it on for my 6 mile run, which I was looking forward to all day, because it was windy but about 70 degrees. Immediately, my knee was in extreme pain. I kept running, thinking it would subside. It did not. At 2.5 miles I finally talked myself into stopping and walking back. This was not easy to do. I have great difficulty admitting that there's anything I'm not capable of doing. I generally count my determination to be one of my greatest strengths, but sometimes it gets in my way. I could have endured the pain for all 6 miles, but I didn't want this to be my last run, so I had to force myself to stop.
I got home late as a result of walking. I started shredding the chicken for fajitas. I had shredded almost all of it before I somehow knocked the entire cutting board full of meat onto the floor. Oscar thought it was manna from heaven. I barely kept myself from sitting down on the tile and bursting into tears.
My knee feels fine today. The muscles around it feel weird. I think the knee strap caused me to run in some weird way that put unusual strain on my knee. Maybe I put it on in the wrong place. I did some research on runner's knee and feel pretty confident that it doesn't need to interfere with my training too much. I am going to skip my run today, buy some insoles for my shoes, and do my best in the snow on Saturday. This isn't easy for me to do. I have always prided myself on the fact that I never missed a mile of my training regimen in preparing for the Chicago Marathon. I'm inside my own head giving myself the same advice I always gave my teenagers- "Usually the right thing to do is not the easy thing to do." I really want to get my run in today, but I don't think that's the right thing to do.
Santiago (of The Old Man and the Sea) knows how I feel. "I hate a cramp, he thought. It is a treachery of one's own body." I like to believe that my body won't let me down-- that it's capable of doing anything I resolve to do. Admitting that's not true is not easy. I imagine cancer patients experience this sentiment to its most extreme degree. If one could will oneself to get better, my dad could have been healed two weeks after his diagnosis.
Hopefully I will qualify Saturday morning and I can register for the half marathon. If it doesn't work out, I might sit down on my kitchen floor and cry, after all.
One time, I drove all the way out to Best Teryaki because I really wanted some. I ordered it to-go because no one likes sitting in a restaurant by themselves. When I got home, before I knew what was happening, Dexter had eaten all of the chicken and left me the rice- which is the part that I don't like anyway.
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