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Run on...

Posted Nov 13 2012 8:59am
For what it's worth: I typed this entire post left handed. 

These days, I have a love/hate relationship with blogging.
When I started this particular blog, back in March of 2009, it was supposed to be one of two things: a place for me to hold myself accountable for training and fundraising for the Baltimore Marathon; and an outlet to vent my random thoughts.  You see, back in the hay day of “MySpace”, I would post random “blogs” on my profile page.   Rants about the cost of eating healthy, why moms SHOULD breastfeed, and stupid things I learned on my adventures in becoming a mom.  Typically controversial, and debate provoking.  But the only readers were my family and real life friends.   When we all moved to facebook (sorry Tom), a bunch of friends said they missed my rambling.  So voila, Run Faster, Mommy!  was born.
Three and a half years ago I would have NEVER imagined that this blog would become what it has today.

I say that with mixed emotions.   

I have been presented opportunities that I would have never dreamed of.  I was in a commercial for Merrell shoes.  I went to the CrossFit games, I have been to Disney World numerous times, I have run countless races and have been given all sorts of amazing gear and products from various companies.  I am certainly NOT looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I am forever grateful for such amazing opportunities.
But lately, I wonder how much of  the original “me” is left in this blog.  Every post I worry about how many page views it will receive, how I will market it on pinterest, who I have to tag and hashtag and what disclaimers and links I have to add in to the post.  I worry if my posts are good enough to maintain the campaigns I’m on, if they are going to impress the companies I’m writing for or if I’m just barely scraping by.  I wish I had the time and fancy gadgets and smartphones to keep up with my peers.  I tiptoe around the things I REALLY want to say for I fear for my “virtual” reputation  or offending someone with my words.  Ironically enough, I wonder how many readers I’ve actually lost over the past year because of this attempt to avoid social (and social media) faux pas.   Blogging lately has gone from a fun past time to feeling like a job…which would be great if it actually was my job. Alas, I haven’t quite figured out how to crack into that career field as so many of the others have. And you know what the craziest part is? I hardly run anymore.

"Run Faster Mommy" can't remember the last time she put in more than 20 miles of running in a single week. Now don't get me wrong, I'm in the gym almost every single day.  CrossFit has become a big part of my life...but it occurred to me the other day that I really miss running.   In fact, after a long stint of lifting (and making serious gains & hitting big PR's) and little plyo/cardio/true WOD's, I realized I needed to run.  Not for my fitness, but for my soul.   Running is my happy pill, my anti depressant, my emotional stabilizer.  It's not about how far or how fast I run, it's about getting into that zone.  The zone where your hover between discomfort and a primal exhilaration.  The endorphins flow and you just feel good.  It counter acts a lot of the crap that occurs in every day life, making it more bearable to face.  I'm stoked to have a job, but 40+ hours a week  can be mentally draining, especially in this New England winter. I only see the sunlight from indoors.  I miss my kids.  Those words alone barely scrape the surface of the true emotions that come with being away from them. And so I realized in my deteriorating mental state that I needed to get back to running.  And besides just needing to run...I miss it.  I miss being a runner, I miss putting in the miles. Fate has a funny way of stepping in. I decided to start running EARLY in the morning, so I can still focus on lifting/WOD's with Geoff at night.  Yesterday morning, however, after my 3 miles on the treadmill, I couldn't resist heading into the box to get in some plyo box jumps.   First 30 on the lowest box setting: cake walk.  Next ten on a higher setting: no problem.  Flipped the wooden box up to it's highest height.  got in 5 jumps, no problem.  #6... I was just a few inches too close to the box.  Swung my  hands with all the momentum I had and slammed my right hand, full force, into the edge of the wooden box. It was blinding pain, that alternated between feeling like I was going to throw up and feeling like I couldn't breathe.  I kept waiting for the pain to subside, like it eventually does when you stub your toe or hit your funny bone.  It didn't. crooked pinky :(
28 hours later it has hardly subsided. I'm headed to see a friend later today who is going to help me out with the x-rays to see if any serious damage has been done.  While I can move all of my fingers (slowly and painfully, but they do move), I can not put pressure on my right hand, and I have zero grip strength.  Buh bye weight lifting.  And unless I somehow figure out how to master one handed (left hand at that) burpees, pushups, and pull ups, those are out too. Well, well, looks like we meet again, old friend. Let's spend some time together.  Let's get back to basics.     It's funny how life works out sometimes....  
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