If only there was a 90 day satisfaction guarantee for the choices we make in life. It’s been ninety days since the Rails to Trails Marathon, and I want my
money legs back. But like all other marathons, there was no 90 day satisfaction guarantee.
The trial and error method in recovery has been probably the hardest thing I’ve gone through in life. I don’t remember a time when I’ve been this emotional. And I’m sorry to be beating a dead horse with a stick on this topic, but these feelings are real. I’m a human, I feel things. I think it’s more normal to feel sadness than to slap on a fake happy face and pretend that nothing is wrong.
Just when I finally convinced myself that this is the year of the triathlon for me, and to just get over a fall marathon I get a text from a good friend.
“I registered for Chicago Marathon!”
Ugh. Stab in the heart. I go walk the dog to clear my mind. During the walk I convince myself again that it’s the year of the triathlon. Triathletes are sexy. I get home to find another text:
“We’re reserving a room with two beds just in case you can come”
Ugggghh. Tears. Went to bed at 7:30 PM.
The next day I had to get it together mentally and go to work. One would think that by now I would be smart enough to turn my phone off. Another text arrives from my friend:
“There are 274 more days to race day!”
It appears as though I can not go on pretending that marathons don’t exist. Damn. To defend my clueless friend, he has no idea how badly I’m handling this. It’s not his fault. If the texting continues to bring me down, I will man up and put an end to it.
I’m thankful for those who do know just how crazy I’ve been driven by this. The ones that check in to see how my brain is. The ones who keep rooting me on even though it appears that I’ve completely lost it at times. Thank you.
And I really need to thank my husband. Can you imagine what he’s putting up with? He’s lucky he’s not home very much! This weekend I plan to wine & dine the hell out of him. He’s dealt with my craziest of times, and I think he needs a beer.
I’m hoping this is my final vent. I saw another doctor today, I’m not going to go too much into it in this post. I’ve got a new post brewing up in my brain right now, but I thought this was a necessary post in the journey of recovery too.
Stick with me boys and girls, I can only get stronger from here.