Something is different. Something right now is not right. It’s technically my third week of my planned New York City Marathon training; yet, out of desperation, I just bought a 16-week training plan because it’s my last chance to try. And I just cannot make myself care about this.

What’s different is I am injured AGAIN. Despite taking all year off to heal and build strength, my left hip hurts. It got worse over the 2-3 weeks I took off from running after the Roanoke Half-Marathon. So it’s not a running injury. I don’t know what it is. Some days, it’s hard to cross the room. One night, I had trouble turning over in bed. Other days, I can get through running or walking and I don’t feel a thing. Yes, I’ve foam-rolled. Yes, I stretch. Of course, I ice it. What else you got? Tennis ball, check. The Stick, check. Planks, squats, monster walks, clam shells, bridges, Supermans, yoga. Not doing anything at all. Wanna tussle some more?

Frankly, I don’t care what it is. It could be an alien probe in my hip and I just could not make myself care. Because I am so burned out on getting injured that it makes me physically nauseous. I am so tired of doing all the PT techniques and exercises I have learned since battling hip injuries for literally years that I just don’t f*cking care why it hurts this time. Because inevitably, it doesn’t matter. Say I go to PT, get it fixed, rack up hundreds of dollars in insurance claims and co-pays, and it goes away for awhile. I can bet that it will happen again. Because it always does. This is not an attitude: it’s a fact. I have this track record.

If it were any other marathon than the New York City Marathon, I would bail. Take the rest of the year off. Take 6 years off even. All I want to do is rip the medals off my wall and pack them away and stop pretending that having run 8 marathons and 17 half-marathons is this totally awesome, badass, super cool superpower that I have because it’s not. Not when you get injured ALL THE TIME. It’s just something I did to get me through a few bad years. But I’m injured again, and I haven’t gotten my happy ending out of those bad years (yet), so what’s the point? I haven’t gotten my time goals yet, so who gives a shit? I can’t care anymore. It’s not in me.

Maybe this brutal honesty thing will get me somewhere, but I’m not planning to blog my training plans like I did in past years. I’m going to get PT because it’s hard to walk let alone run comfortably, and I’m going to quietly train for this race because the thought of holding myself accountable to anything else but the $50 I shelled out for my training plan makes me want to put a laptop-sized hole in my window.

I don’t know when I will be back. All I can say right now is that running has stopped enriching my life the way I feel like it should for all I have given to it, and I’m just done. I want to be done. This is not a game that I want to play anymore, so good-bye for now.

4 thoughts on “Done

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