The Impossible Dream????

Saturday was beautiful, just beautiful. And QUITE windy. My decision was to run 13 at Cedar Creek. The math for that was to do a loop in the park, run down to the beach and back, another loop in the park, then halfway back to the beach and back. OK. Let's go. Start slow. Warm up, ease into it. Check. Arrive at the head of the path, increase pace. Nice. Wind at my back. Correction. WIND at my back. Better increase pace. This is going be tough on the way back.

Correction. It was stupid hard on the way back. I felt like that old show with the bionic man. What was his name? Remember, how they filmed him going so slow. That's how I felt. Like I was slogging along in slow motion. And I had to do it for 4.25 miles before I came out into the park again. Jeez Louise. Going over the second bridge was barely a shuffle. Oh. And that is when my husband caught up with me. And yes, sailed right past me. Like the stupid wind was only blowing in my face and not his. I wanted to spit nickels.

Running in the winter is amusing though. I was wearing my long sleeve magenta top and a pair of running tights. A headband. Lola. That's it. What you see people running in is remarkable. Down at the end of the path, when I turned around, I saw a woman running in a long, puffy winter coat, with a hat and gloves and her hood up, tightly tied under her chin. Again, that path is 4.25 miles long. There is no where to get on it except at the beginning. She had been running for nearly four miles like this. And presumably, she intended to run the same distance back. (Since the end of the path is still closed off for the construction for Sandy repair, you can't get into the parking lot yet.) When I did round two into the path again, sure enough, there she was, coming back up towards me....still all bundled up. I don't know how she didn't overheat and melt into nothing.

So, I finished my 13 slow miles against the wind. I was totally disgusted with the total lapsed time. My faster pace with the wind was not fast enough to counteract how slow I was against the wind. I tried so hard to stay tough. To keep the sustained effort. That wind just took everything out of me. Most of the time, I am fine to continue my day and my responsibilities after my long runs now. However, after this one, I needed a two hour nap.

In fact, I was still tuckered out in both swims on Sunday and on Monday. Sunday's swim was fun because Joe and I got to be in the same lane. TWO! And I liked that a lot. Monday I worked those flip turns and worked those flip turns. Man, it is crazy how you can do one reasonably well and then 25 yards later do one so piss poor awful you come up sputtering. Then I almost had a head on collision with Alice which scared the stuffing out of me. At that point, I swallowed my pride and put flippers on hoping that more speed into the wall would help as well as add some distance between me and the person behind me. Eh. Didn't really help too much.

And didn't help at all when Mary Elizabeth and I raced at the end of the workout. She beat me by a full body length. Grrrrr. Some day. Some day it will happen. I will execute a flip well and I will win.

However, that day will not be soon since I am seeing someone now for the miserable Achilles issue and he wants me not to push off the wall at all for a bit. Good God. That is the only thing I do with any flair is streamline off the wall. And now I can't do that?! Pshaw!!!!

Dr. Steve basically said I'm a mess. Gee, there's a surprise. I'm all inflamed. I walk all wrong. I'm the tightest person he's ever touched. My ankle is unstable. My shoes are not right. My back is crooked. And I have a bunch of scar tissue in the ankle. He said not to wear my Strassburg torture socks, not to ice it, not to run, not to push off the wall in the pool. Oh, and by no means go barefoot at home. The man is out of his mind. The only thing he said that I liked was to take a salt bath last night. So I did. (And I cheated and had a chocolate, damn it.) He did a couple of treatments on me and remarked about the gristle in my ankle. No kidding. Gristle. How disgusting is that? He said if I keep on doing what I'm doing, I will most likely shred my Achilles. Shred. I am not interested in shredding any part of my body. Shedding, yes. Shredding, no.

I see him again tomorrow after swim. We'll see what he says about running. And how we're going to get me through the Flushing 13.1 in less than two weeks. But I guess I have to face it, that my goal time may be just an impossible pipe dream this time around. I have to remember the big picture, the long term, our joint goal to be running together when we are in our 80s. And I will do what is right...but I don't have to be happy about it!