Maybe I’m being overly dramatic. It’s possible… I do have a knack for overreacting to situations, responding emotionally and immediately, and then looking back and thinking that I might have overdone it just a bit. If the husband is reading this right now, he’s shaking his head and voicing his agreement, I’m sure.
I think I get it from my dad – the whole letting my “right now” emotions control me – at least that’s what my mom tells me. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I am easily swayed to tears when I’m sad or mad. I can’t say that I’m necessarily proud of this fact, it’s just the way it is. Oddly enough, when I’m really really happy I don’t cry at all, which is contrary to what most people expect. Case in point: I didn’t cry at our engagement or our wedding, I just smiled and laughed… a lot. And maybe let out a squeal of delight or two. However while I was watching Switched at Birth (don’t judge me, guilty pleasure) at work on my lunch break today I may have teared up at some of the more emotional parts. Maybe.
But I digress… The whole dramatics thing and what it relates to… it’s nothing that is really important, in fact I think it’s quite petty. It’s that stupid knee injury. I’ve really handled it with quite a bit of finesse (is there a sarcastic font?) and maturity. It’s pretty much gone a lot like the 5 stages of grief:
1. Denial: this is where I continued to attempt to run on my knee time after time, praying that it would somehow suddenly be better. I was convinced that it was just a fluke, something that would, uh, work itself out. It didn’t and it hasn’t.
2. Bargaining: ok, you’re not getting better. We shall traipse over to see the chiropractor/sports conditioning specialist and he will make everything better and I will be back in my running shoes immediately. I take care of you, you take care of me, my dear knee. I then proceeded to work out like a maniac to compensate for not being able to run, and pretty much ran myself into the ground.
3. Depression: After running (pun intended) myself ragged working out the first week, I then shifted into a very depressed week full of mediocre workouts and bad moods. I cried my eyes out all last Saturday morning when I tried to run per the doctor’s orders and it failed miserably. I am a real gem to be around when I’m not high on endorphins. I may have done some binge-eating in there also. Can’t confirm.
4. Anger: After I got done crying I immediately shifted over into a really mature, adult-like session of being really angry. I was home by myself at this point and I may have kicked the wall and slammed some doors. I then may have cried some more, yelled at Sean when he got home, and then shot things in our backyard with the BB gun before proceeding to drink away my afternoon and night. Like I said, I handled things in a very mature manner.
5. Acceptance: ok, I’m down for the count right now. I get it. I’m going to see one of the trainers for Rice University and hopefully they’ll pinpoint what’s wrong. Until I know what’s wrong I’m going to get in solid workouts and focus on what I can do: strength training. I’m toying with the idea of doing the Jamie Eason 12 week training program that every other healthy living blogger is doing right now – if I can’t run I can at least be in ridiculously good shape, right?
The truth is, I know that this is just a minor blip in (what I hope to be) a very long and fruitful running career. I’ve been kind of debating publishing this post because I know that I’ve been overreacting about the whole thing and that the whole thing sounds really immature. But, the next time I’m injured, at least I’ll be able to look back and see how gracefully I handled this injury.