I was thisclose to making it to 101 days with flying colors.
I was thisclose to proving so much to myself….and to you.
There are just 10 days left until I’ve reached 101 days of gut healing. My last update was happy, happy, joy, joy.
Let’s back up.
After my surgery, I decided to quickly put myself on a 5-week half marathon program. It’s not right, but it’s doable. That’s what I focused on. If you click on the image, you’ll be taken to the whole article (which is fantastic, by the way).
This week was “week 3″ for me. Clearly I’m not very good at following directions, but I got it in my head that I needed to get a 12-miler in so that mentally I would be prepared again for 13.1.
I ran the 12 miles on Saturday morning at 6:30am. On miles 8-9, I felt euphoric. I was running about a 7:40 minute/mile. I was in my zone. I felt high on life. There was a point when I thought I would cry I was so excited.
This lasted until around mile 10 when I became so hungry in an instant, and I had no idea what had hit me. This never happens. And then, slowly but surely, for the last 2 miles, I broke down like crazy….my body started to hurt, I continued to stay hungry and I was miserable in general.
I kept on going because like I said, I’m clearly not good at following directions and in my head, this was my “peak” run before the Nike Women’s Half Marathon. I mean, if I couldn’t do it then, perhaps I wouldn’t be able to do it on October 20. Sigh. My mind is stubborn, stubborn, stubborn….
I ended my run at 12 miles with an average pace of 8:57 min./mile.
Good, okay, average….definitely not great, but by that point I couldn’t have cared less.
I stayed miserable for the rest of the day, even though I took extremely good care of myself: ice, ice and more ice, Epsom salt bath, foam rolling, stretching, eating and napping.
I was fairly confident that by the time I woke up on Sunday morning, I’d be good to go.
Yesterday, for the first time in over 90 days, my colitis flared. I was in bloated pain all day. I felt famished, no matter what I ate (always a classic symptom for me – like my body is not absorbing anything). I felt sad, even though I had so much to feel thankful for and blessed by. Before falling asleep for an early afternoon nap, I thought I was going to throw up. My stomach made noises all day. I wore jeans to an afternoon seminar at church, but wanted to explode with pressure and pain.
At 8am yesterday morning all I could think was, “I didn’t eat anything different. What gives?”
But by 3pm (as I was near limping because it feels like I cracked a bone on top of my left foot), I had my ah-ha moment…..the run!
The last time I ran 12 miles was in 2010.
And then, all I could think was, “What gives?”
I’m mad and I’m frustrated….mostly with myself, but with all of this. I want to eat. I want to run. I want to workout. I want to just be. I’m pushing and pushing and pushing to try to live normally when the truth is that my “normal” is not likely to ever be normal.
You can’t understand if you don’t live and breathe this daily, and it’s for this very reason that I find it so difficult to express these thoughts and feelings to friends and family – there ain’t nothin’ motivational about it, but yet I still crave an outlet for someone to listen.
It’s always my promise to you…..
In failure, there is always a lesson to be learned.
This running failure taught me that my long-distance days must come to an end.
Days like yesterday (and likely the next couple of days while I “re-set”) should never be wasted, but that’s kind of how I feel about them.
I LOVE LIFE.
I don’t have time for a 12-mile run to take me out of life and to set me back from what I have been so focused on….getting this gut healed.
Love your guts,