Saturday, September 9, 2017
This is what happens when you spend Saturday night at Target.
I miss running. I miss it with an ache that I feel deep in my chest.
Tonight at Target, I was walking past the activewear section (which is actually where I get all my workout clothes), and there was a huge display for running gear. "Keeps you cool while you run!", the tag said.
I don't run. Not anymore, I thought.
And there it was. That familiar ache and that stinging sensation behind my eyes. For a moment, I thought I might actually start tearing up, right there in front of the racerback tank tops made with wicking fabric.
If I miss it so much, why don't I just try to do it again, and start slow? My friend, I'm afraid at this point, my knee can't even handle a slow start; it hurts when I walk too much, sometimes. Or all I have to do is place my foot down wrong while I'm walking and I can feel a sharp pain that makes me catch my breath, and then I have to limp rather gingerly until it sort of works itself out.
At this point, I have to decide whether I really, really want to put my knee on the line, lose a ton of weight to take the pressure off of it (and we all know how easy THAT process is!), and risk giving up my powerlifting strength just so I can maybe do some 5k's or 10k's for another few years, possibly a half marathon if I'm lucky, and probably never another full marathon ever again. Note: there is nothing wrong with 5k's or 10k's, but you know that's not where my heart lies. I love the looooooooong run.
I envy 80 year olds that can still run, because I really think I've reached the end of the proverbial road in this sport. I could train to race-walk, I suppose, but again, that's just not where my heart is.
So I have to choose, right? And even though I haven't been consistently training this year, I do in fact choose powerlifting. With derby absolutely out of the question as well, it's kind of my only thing left that I can do, that I love. And knowing that I've reached a this-or-nothing-at-all point in my very short athletic life feels rather pressuring. Like, it took me so long to figure out the sports that I love to do, and now, I feel like I have precious little time left and I REALLY have to make it count this time. I'm in a situation where I feel like I have to double-down.
And I'm happy that I have powerlifting in my life. Again, I could definitely stand to show up more (or, at all, considering how hectic my life has gotten lately) and put in some consistent work, but in my heart of hearts, I feel like it's where I'm meant to be, the path I should be following.
But goddamn, if I don't miss running. I am stupidly sad watching other people run and hearing about other people's training these days.