Broken

To say that 2014-to-date has been challenging for me so far I think is a bit of an understatement.  I had an accident while playing soccer.  On March 2nd, I broke my leg.   It was a tibial plateau fracture.  (Do yourself a favor, and don’t Google that.   Just trust me.)

The thing was, at the time, I was probably in the best shape of my whole life.  I was training for a half-marathon.   The day before I broke my leg, I ran eleven miles.   I was running three or five days, taking a dance class or two, weight training, and playing soccer every week.  I even had a trainer I was working with.   I was probably in better shape then that time I decided it was a good idea to do bootcamp classes three times every week for about six months.   (Side note: Watch this video, because it’s ridiculous, and realize that their form isn’t very good:

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The thing that I really loved most about running was that it was meditative.   I would get into a good rhythm, and then it was just right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot.  I was present, and mindful in my body with each step, particularly at the longer distances.  I was focused on breathing, and listening to my own rhythm.  It was a really great way to be in touch with my body and mind.  It had a tremendous effect on my self-esteem, and general well-being.

I had set out to do a half-marathon, because it just seemed like a thing that people did, especially a lot of people in the fitness and outdoors obsessed San Francisco Bay Area.   But after I conquered that 11-mile run, I felt like the half-marathon was going to be easy, and perhaps too easy.  I was already thinking that I might have to try a full marathon after that.  I surprised myself with my ability.  I wasn’t very fast, but I could go-go-go.

It only took a split second for that idea to come crashing down.   A much bigger dude than me and I decided that one of us was going to get to the ball first.  What actually happened was that his knee made contact with my shin about an inch below my knee-cap.   I spent the evening in the emergency room, and the next six-and-a-half weeks on crutches.

While I was laid up, I thought I would get so much stuff done, and be so productive.  I have nothing but time. I thought I’d write like a fiend.  It was around this time that I started thinking seriously about starting the YouTube channel.  I thought I would study French, play my guitar, learn to code.  Really, though, I was just in a grumpy and lazy place.  What I really did was watch a lot of documentaries on NetFlix.   My patience was already tested, and I didn’t have any left for working on any of my projects.  Truthfully, I was probably missing out on the rhythm of my running.

When I finally got off the crutches, this is what walking looked like:

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Learning to walk. Again. #brokenleg #healing #practice

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Of course, then to add insult to my injury, about a month ago, I got shingles.

I’ve been in physical therapy up until Thursday, when I finally graduated, but I still have a long time to go before I’m fully recovered.   I may no longer be taking those first wobbly baby steps, but I can’t run more than a tenth of a mile at a time right now.   I have a very regimented rehab program that I am on, and it will be months before I’m able to run more than a mile or two at a time.    The hardest part is taking it slowly.  I just want to run so bad.

Things are looking up.  I am feeling a lot better.  I know that I will be able to run the way I did before, in time.  But it has been a helluva year, and it’s taken a lot out of me.   I am impressed with how I’ve bounced back, but it hasn’t been easy.

I will get back to where I was, though.  I will run a half-marathon.  And after that, maybe a full.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – Quitting

It’s part of the process, really.    I opened myself to a lot of new experiences in the last year, and I call it my Crazy Single Girl Life.    It’s what you have to do, right?   You have to invite the good in.    Unfortunately, with the good, sometimes a bit of unpleasant dust blows in with it.

Part of the growing I need to do is to learn to better trust my instincts.    For the last few months, my gut has been telling me that something was wrong.      I tried to change some of my behavior, and distance myself in certain situations, to shield myself from some behavior that was making me uncomfortable.  I tried to remain optimistic, and tell myself that these were things that would just blow over with patience.   However, there comes a point where you realize that the best answer is just to stop and say, “NO.  No more.   I’m done.”

I have quit the band and the soccer team.

It wasn’t all bad, and I have made some wonderful friends.   I know that we will see each other, and continue to be a part of each others lives.

But not everyone I meet is deserving of my friendship or my respect.

And at the same time, just because you shouldn’t be friends with someone, that doesn’t mean that you have to be enemies.   It just means that you move on.

Just sayin’.

Playing Games

I’ve been mentioning this soccer team, but I haven’t really explained what it’s all about.   It is the source of many good laughs and more than a few bumps and bruises.  

It all started around Thanksgiving time, when Pedro gave me a  call to recruit me.  He explained that he was starting a team that would play in Alameda.  It’s a coed 30+ league.  I thought it sounded like an excellent way to meet new people, and to meet new beer, as there is a beer pub at the sports facility.  Oh hell, let’s face it, I wanted to meet men.  I told Pedro as much.   

So, our season began in January, and I’ve been having a very good time with it.   I love to play, and am remembering my competitive streak.   The first game was very difficult, and I was huffing and puffing and miserable.   The next few days were terrible.  I was sore and stiff all over.  It hurt to sneeze or cross my legs.  Oh, but it was all worth it.   Of course, we had our asses royally handed to us.

In fact, we have yet to win a game.  We tied last week.   It was as close as we’ve come.  Perhaps this week will be the one. 

So, on Friday evenings, I go and run about and get kicked Everywhere.    It’s the most fun I’ve had in ages.   Even when it hurts and I’m out of breath and smell awful.    At least there’s beer in the end.

Just sayin’.