I've been taking it easy ever since the infamous run of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in which I mysteriously and inexplicably maimed myself. I blame Tanya Harding. An invisible version of her.
I still haven't been able to run, and it's been two weeks! The first the doc implied I'd have to take it easy for a couple weeks and lay off running while I work with a physical therapist. Dr. Steve, the physical therapist, during my last visit, suggested I take "months" (that's plural) to be sure I really recover. Um, WHA?!
I'm hoping for a happy medium: a full recovery by Feb. 14th (more than two weeks, less than months) so I can train (and really train) for the SLC half. This race was going to be it! PR City! Dr. Steve did not share my enthusiasm at my last appointment. Let's pause for a moment of silence.
Such is the tragedy of my life. Meanwhile, my main coping strategy, running, is totally and completely unavailable to me. I may be going slightly crazy. I do have some lower impact outlets at my disposal: the elliptical, spin, and swimming. Though Michael Phelps I am not, and swimming is less work out, more fight for survival. To those of you with fully functioning joints, I salute you/desperately envy you. Long live joints!