I still choose to fight
Today is day 10 since the last time I ran. And during that run, I fell apart. Running 2 minutes on/2 minutes off was too much for my IT band. 2 minutes. As I limped home, I was pissed. I can't spend the rest of my life only able to run for 2 minutes.
I've been depressed the last few weeks. I feel like I'm never going to be a healthy runner for more than a few weeks or months. The past two years have been filled with one injury after another, and I'm so tired of my body.
Today I'm going to try a short run, and I'm scared. I'm scared to get back on my feet and find out if I'm healed or not. I haven't figured out where (street? track? treadmill?) or how long (1 mile? 2 minutes alternating? half mile intervals?) or when (go now? wait until lunch? go tonight when the gym will be packed?). But my IT has felt tight the last few days despite everything I've been doing, and I feel like I've already resigned myself to the depression that will inevitably come with another summer of not running. This morning, I'm going to stretch and roll and ice, and then before I run I'll stretch and roll and hope that everything is strong and stretched out. I probably won't do more than 20 minutes. But, oh man, if I can have those 20 minutes, it'll do so much to drag me out of this dark and lonely place.
And, as depressed as I've been, as much as this is making me withdraw into myself, I still choose to fight. Maybe all I do these days is get up and go to the gym and then go back into hiding, but at least I'm doing that. I'm attacking this injury, and it may not respond and I may end up in surgery anyway, but at least I know I still have enough runner in me left to fight. Somewhere.