I’ve thought a lot about writing about running. It’s such a fickle topic for me, because although it is my favorite thing to do, I struggle to put into words something interesting.
I still run everyday, I’m training for a race, it’s bringing me joy, but really, it’s not anything I have much to say about. I do it everyday, I maintain a practice and it fills me up, and then I move on with my day.
Running gives me a baseline of happiness. One that I bring with me to my workday. Running makes me a better version of myself.
Yesterday I was in the middle of a 10 mile tempo run and felt a twinge in my hamstring. This caused me to reassess the pace of the workout, and bring it home at an easier pace than I was capable of. My hamstring was very sore all day, and I took today off.
I was very upset all day yesterday, almost irrationally upset, based on how my coach saw the workout. To him, I completed it and my hamstring isn’t ready to handle my level of fitness. To me, I was dying.
I let myself worry about it all day, cried a few times, and reassessed my situation. I’m most likely ok. I will continue to monitor it and not do anything to jeopardize the healing. I pray it is nothing.
If it is something, that’s ok too. I will try something else. I’ll heal and make it work. I’m always learning about my amazing body and how it works. I have not failed again, I’ve learned.
I’ve still got my jobs that fill me up, my family and friends who love me and a full life. I can cross-train. I still love movement, and having a bum hamstring does not prevent me from doing that.
Running continues to be a process. And that’s part of what I love.