guru of sorts recently reminded me that sometimes the things we love the most are also the things that hurt us the most. while i'd always understood this philosophy to be true in reference to fellow human beings (ex-girlfriend, mom, usher), it never occurred to me that it could happen with other loves, like hobbies or pastimes.
but now i'm right in the fucking middle of it.
what i thought to be just a mild LCL strain suffered during a recent marathon -- something i could have healed within a week or two -- is actually a meniscus tear, requiring me to park my running-loving ass on a stationary bike and/or in a swimming pool for at least six weeks.
and just as mother nature shows us the beauty of spring/summer!!!
my doc says, even after such a hiatus from my favorite activity, the chances that the tear will actually heal on its own are still gonna be pretty slim. in all likelihood, surgery will be the only way to fix the pain incurred every time my left leg impacts the ground, which will mean even more time off from running.
after getting this bit of morbid news, i spent a good three or four days wallowing in misery. i threw a little pity party (don't worry, i only invited ME)... broke some non-animate objects... cursed murhpy's fucking law.
i was so angry. WHY ME!?!?! but i love running!?!?! it's my only release from the clutches of reality!!! please!!!
and, as one would expect, such whining and crying did nothing for me.
my only options now are: stay positive. stay active. rearrange my goals.
and revel in the fact that i've become quite proficient in the butterfly stroke!!!