|Feeling sort of pleased with myself|
Turns out I may be wrong. I have not written much about running recently because... I haven't been doing much running recently. For those of you who have been keeping up with the fast times of Rachel's life, you know that I was benched early summer due to a knee that was on the verge of falling apart. I have weak bones, I have weak hips. My doctor told me firmly to quit the nonsense and focus on strength training in order to improve my running form.
I have spent months at a tiny clinic in Wheat Ridge, doing one legged squats, "hamstring triple threats" and all kinds of exercises involving a rubber resistance band. I got to know my physical therapist well, and she was a hard ass- pushing me, yet holding me back from running. I finally made my way to interval running, and now straight running of short distances. I was taught about mid-foot strike, which is incredibly awkward, but apparently much easier on the knees. I feel like a freak running on the balls of feet leaning forward taking quick tiny steps. But whatever, I'm getting it done.
Today I ran four miles on the treadmill with no pain.I wanted to push it. God I wanted to push it. Four miles used to be nothing. I remember the feeling after a long run, such a sense of accomplishment and strength. I want that feeling again. But I'm being smart. I'm slowly building strength and although I am hopeful, I know that distance running just may not be in the cards for me.
I am bitter about this weekend's race and will avoid the whole scene. As much as I would like to support my friends, I know that seeing all those exhausted yet elated runners at the finish line will sting a little too much. Instead, I'll probably hit the gym on Sunday morning and put in another slow four, remembering how strong I once was and day dreaming about races to come.