Patience; the new endurance sport.

The running was not too bad, but I took it pretty slow. The fact that it was a still, gorgeous, wide blue-skied, placid silver lake, summer morning helped me tremendously.  Legs felt great, but my back is still a little tender. The thing about having really excellent massage therapy is that it releases the muscles that 'hold you together'.  I am so grateful not to be in pain, but it feels like training: day 1.  I feel 'undone'; but dang if I can't turn my head side-to-side and  windmill my arms!  So there's that.  I'd like just once not not to be psychosymatic, but this whole back thing is just a symptom of my life swallowing me whole and leaving me to understand my small place in the greater scheme of world.  My happiness, my comfort, my acheivements matters so little--which is what hurts me. I am like a matchstick floating on a stormy sea (and that sea is comprised of busy-tweenish-know-it-all-children). 

So many things went wrong since Saturday morning.  I didn't get enough protein after the race, I didn't ice, I didn't stretch properly, I slept on the ground two nights in a row.....By Monday morning, I could not move my head.  I'd screwed up both  my upper and my lower back.  Even after 800 mg of Ibuprofen,  I still considered lying in bed all day, but then thought immobility might be worse than limited movement.  By yesterday, I was in so much pain, I  called a massage therapist friend and he gave me an hour and a half massage on just my back and glutes.  My upper back responded, my lower back still hurts.  I hobbled through 4 miles on legs that felt like dried jerky.  I could blame it all on the big effort on Saturday, but I felt so good after the race-- not one thing hurt during or after the race.  I honestly think sleeping on the ground did me in (it was the last days of Summer for my kids, was I supposed to say no? I'm always such a party-pooper when it comes to camping).  I have 18 miles to run on Saturday and if I don't get these 2 long runs in, SG is all messed up.  I was doing so well!!  How could this happen?  It's always something.

As soon as I got onto the trail today, I happned to join a 5K in progress (the Senior Challenge).  It was a bunch of pretty good lookin' old guys.  I ran with a couple of guys who were probably in their mid 60's.  Their course ended only about 3/4 of a mile into my run.  Then they were setting up a film shoot down "alligator park" (it's where you can score some meth or spot the pedefiles/flashers on a pretty regular basis).  Two big vans filled with top-of-the-line camera equipment, camera dolleys, sound equipment.  My guess is, they were using the area because it's pretty and by the river with a clear view of Mt. Timp.  Obvioulsy they were filiming something major--it was a serious production.  I wish I could have stayed to ask and see what was up.  Since yesterday, I keep thinking about Michelle, McKenzie, Kellie and Marion wrestling that pig into the barrel at Payson Onion Days on Labor Day weekend.  To begin with, I have a real attraction to kitchy home-spun city days (ie: Coon-Dog days in Franklin, NC ).  I may just have to go witness those girls get that pig into the barrel for myself.  Michelle wants to win the $200 prize, Marion is worried she'll lose her shorts in the process. I would give money to see either. Ahh, the spectacle of rodeo events. It's moments like these that make me wonder if whoever invented the term 'white supremecy' was trying to be ironic.  My back is still a little sore, but a lot better.  I have my long run w/ Cath tommorrow. We'll try it and see how it goes the rest of Saturday.  TGIF.

I have a few things to say about this run and this week.  Regarding today:  I'm so glad Smooth came because Catherine would not have had anyone to run/pace with.  I really want her to qualify for Boston and she needs to get used to doing long distances running within a minute of her marathon pace.  But by the time we were at mile 3 I knew something was seriously wrong with me.  First of all, I've been incredibly fatigued since last Saturday. I fought my way through 3 days of intense and scary back pain, but mostly, I wrested myself through a deeply personal, emotional and spiritual darkness for the past 2 weeks. I hesitate to write this because the blog is the place to fly my running freak flag and release my inner nerd. I am not looking for sympathy (for the 3 of you who read this). I just need to record how much of a toll this personal issue has cost my mental, emotional and now physical health.  I have given too much thought, time, and energy to this sad issue.  I believed time would pass, which would eventually lesson my pain.  But I gave it a lot of space, and now, as in times of high stress and emotional difficulty, my throat has constricted itself and I have not been able to speak with a clear voice, or take a deep breath for almost 7 days. This happens on occasion when I speak of something highly emotional to me or before or after an important (high stress) meeting.  But all of this culminated in the single worst running experience of my life. By mile 16 I was struggling to maintain 12 minute miles. I laid down twice and literally felt my extremities go cold (like shock).  I was losing conciousness.  I had let the girls go ahead of me some miles back and so I started looking for someone with a cel phone, and considered hitchhiking back to base.  Fortunately three other runners were still behind me, passed and took the message back to Catherine to come get me back at mile 17.  Walking was no relief, I could not have even walked that last mile.  I know I've got to get to the doctor if this thing with my throat doesn't pass.  I can't ignore not being able to breath or speak. And as with my back, it's all so perfectly psychosymptomatic to my inner struggle:  I am no longer able to breath freely or speak my mind.  I will do a better job of seeking spiritual solace and also mental distraction this week. This is funny though, around mile 14, I was saying a prayer in my mind, not just to get through the run, but really asking for guidance in my life right now.  I had been sort of looking at the ground while having this mental devotional, and my last thought was "please speak to me".  At just the moment I turned my line of vision back to the road, my eye caught a Gatorade bottle someone had stashed in the bushes along the side.  The bottle was turned in just a way that the white bold lettering of the motto was the most visible thing to me.  I was suddenly struck that God was speaking to me through Gatorade.  The bottle said:  Be Tough!