Frustration

                The last week or so I have felt an annoying sense of frustration. In the last month or so of training it’s as if for every two steps forward, I have to take three steps back. Especially in the area of my ankle and shins. It seems as if I baby my ankle along until it feels better and then I slowly work up my weight and routine and then I try something as bold as actually running and then it’s back to square run with me hobbling around.

                The greatest moment of frustration came after I tried to take a short run, about 1 ¼ miles through the neighborhood, only to be left barely able to walk without ice packed legs for two days….and what was merely an ankle injury turned into shin splints. A common malady for runners I understand, but added to other things it was just another damn frustration. With the frustration comes the question of how in Sam Hill am I going to run a marathon when I’m barely able to run two miles without having to call a taxi to  return me to my starting point. I’m not so sure the Marine Corps Marathon organizers would appreciate me hailing a taxi in the middle of the race-not that I typically have much luck hailing a cab when I’m bumming around the city.

                If I were to look at the root of my frustration it probably stems from this need to achieve self perfection. I over analysis when things don’t go as planned and even when they go as planned, or at least are successful; I still have a tendency to find a flaw, albeit subtle to the outside observer.

                I’ve been trying to remind myself during the last weeks of frustration that I’ve come a long way. Considering I started this journey with mangled ankles from a yet to be determined “how the hell did I do that” moment-running with incorrect shoes or leg pressing too much weight are two of the top culprits, I’m actually doing fairly well. But if that isn’t enough to soothe my frustrated self, I can go back further and see that I truly have come a long way. I was a talented athlete with a bright future. I played three varsity sports but was always willing to play anything. My future as a WNBA/MLB/LPGA/MLS star came to crashing halt when at 15 I nearly lost my life to an undetected thyroid disorder. Resting pulse of 150 is not really ideal for an athlete; well it’s not really ideal for anyone for that matter. The following decade was filled with trying to recover from the emotional and physical impact of a that took who I was and all that I knew.

                In 2005, I was nearly killed in a car accident and was left temporarily paralyzed from the shoulders down. I thought I would never walk again but I was lucky that the fracture in my back was not the cause of my paralysis but instead the result of my body shutting down to protect itself….or at least that’s how the doctor explained it to me. A couple years later I was assaulted and left with a shoulder that can not only predict the weather but whose cracking would make a nice addition to any performance of a Beethoven sympathy.

                While some shake their heads at my list of injuries and illnesses, a few laugh and tease me about them, while others go so far as to question their validity….I look at it as 15 years that have reshaped my life into an interesting direction. But if I truly look at the last 15 years as a whole, and ignoring what others think and say, I have come a long way…..I just need to remember that when the frustration seems to keep me in an angry/frustrated state. I need to remember that five years ago I never thought I would walk again. Now I’m not only walking but running. Hopefully the two steps forward and three steps back will reverse course soon allowing me to get back on my game so I can kill my upcoming races.