So it seems my relationship with running just got complicated.
My specialist just informed me I can start my ‘back to running’ program. Hazza! Right? Now, you’d think I’d be lacing up my shoes and flying out the door with barely a backwards glance. You’d think I’d be grinning from ear to ear at finally being able to do the thing I love.
Strangely though, the first thing I did was cry, and the first emotions I felt, rather than joy and elation, were fear, uncertainty and apprehension. I have waited, (like an impatient child in the ice-cream queue) for what has now been over 7 weeks ‘off my feet’. Controlling the inner tantruming toddler that just wanted to get out and run free, and instead channeled that energy into building my body back up and moving in ways that I could. But, I think there is an emotional component that I hadn’t faced – until now.
The injury and my lack of awareness of it has meant that I don’t trust my body, or my ability to read its signals. In the five stages of distrust, I’m now at the top, at self-protection!! There is a flashing neon stop sign, danger do-not-cross tape, and a cranky guard, shaking his head, telling me not to proceed, it’s safer to Just.Stay.Away.
The fear I have around doing damage to myself again, not being able to read the signs, and at the very basis of it, finding all that bliss once more, only to lose it again, well, that’s all just leaving me in a place where I almost don’t want to go back to running again. My trust has been shattered and it’s going to take time to build it again.
So now starts a new chapter in this recovery story. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a knock like this and I forget that it can be quite hard to get back up. However, even as the ref is counting down I’m getting back up on my feet again, ready to go another round (because how can I not?), it would be easier to hang up my running shoes and focus on other sports – there are plenty to choose from. But a decision made in fear is never the right one, so I’ll choose to take the red pill and see where the infinite possibilities will take me, accepting the tightness in my chest and the anxiety in my stomach to slowly put one foot in front of the other.