So we are on the eve of the new year and wondering if 2020 will really be better? I guess when I get grouchy and tally up the never ending list of injuries, sicknesses and complaints I have about 2019, then I’m SURE 2020 will be better. But…none of it was permanent (not really), and so what am I complaining about?
Well, I wish my running had executed better- I had a fabulous race season last year, culminating in winning my age group (I NEVER take this for granted- it’s a tough crowd for sure, and I am 100% an amateur slouching jogger). I was riding a high when I won my first race – the very small MEC Royal Roads Half Marathon in May 2019. It felt fantastic!
And then, I guess when you go up high, you fall even further. I distinctly remember bragging to a friend about how I ‘never need to take rest days’ when we had both signed up for a marathon training group. This was it! I was going to race a marathon in the fall, the Okanagan Sunrype Marathon, and qualify for Boston!
Until I immediately got injured for oh, the rest of the summer. It started with a weird twinging in my shins, inside just above my ankle bones. When it started hurting, I started wondering WTF it was but I didn’t really have to wonder for long- that same week I tripped over an unmarked hose going across a sidewalk that the construction crews were using, and face-planted quite dramatically into a curb. I slid for about a foot on my stomach, and wound up splitting my lip, gravel in my teeth, and a few scrapes and a banged up left shoulder (for the fourth time…my freaking shoulder.)
It definitely hurt- a lot! But my stress fractures were getting even worse, so for once I was glad that I looked so terrible on the outside. It matched what I felt on the inside.
Those wounds healed amazingly fast, which was funny because my shin splits and stress fractures sure didn’t. Oats was also lame the same week that I face-planted and developed shin splints, and we had to scratch out of the biggest show of the year for us. A cursed week (the week after my birthday). This also spearheaded a few months where I lost confidence in myself, my horse and my own body.
I tried and tried to run for oh, the next three months and never could- It felt like someone was grabbing my leg and pulling really hard. I had trouble walking for a bit too.
At the same time, I had been struggling with some pretty severe abdominal pain and cramping, for oh, 1. 5 years…I finally got it addressed this summer by having my Mirena removed, going back on Seasonale, and felt some blessed relief! I also still have an abdominal ultrasound scheduled in a few weeks, that I had to reschedule because I had the flu when I was supposed to have the appointment…
And that takes me to the fall, where I was kind of bummed about dropping out of the marathon but realistically I knew there was NO WAY I could run it. I had started back running for oh…1 or 2 weeks when the marathon started. I ran the 10k and placed third! (really shouldn’t have, but it was not a competitive field, ha), and my husband ran the marathon and did really well! I was so jealous!
I rode Oats in a horse show and it just…eh. We had a few very inconsistent shows, where he felt weird and I felt really angsty.
Our fabulous roll ended abruptly by getting disqualified from our jumper rounds at CDRC for too many refusals. A very harsh contrast to the fun and happy success of the July show there indeed! And a good cap to what had really become a shitty, miserable season.
I also ran the MEC Halloween half marathon and finished it, happily. It was extremely humbling, running 10 minutes slower and only being back to running for oh…Three weeks? But I did it.
And then I bumbled along, getting screwed by fate again when I proclaimed loudly at work that I ‘NEVER take a sick day!’ …Yeah you guessed it. I immediately got the flu for three effing weeks. I had to sit around at home on the couch feeling miserable for 5 days. A lot of sick days that week…It took forever to shake that sickness and incredible fatigue and weakness/exhaustion.
And then when I did get to take some time off, blessedly at Christmas, I went for a run and was really enjoying myself, blasting along and tried a little sprint at the end of a solid 20k run- and BOOM! My kneecap instantly had excruciating pain under it.
I limped home and limped around for the next effing week. I kind of knew it was not that serious, but damn it hurt and I still have trouble with stairs (going down in particular) AND now I am terrified of running fast or whatever. Why am I so fragile?
Merry Christmas to me>>???
And a happy New Year??
I feel like my resolution is this: Never make bold proclamations ever again, because this year they clearly bit me in the face. UGH.