On missing running..

I am thankful for so much in this life - I have the most bad-ass 6 year old alive (biased, I know), the best family and friends in the world, a job I love, etc. And when looking at this scenario from a practical standpoint, I should be incredibly grateful. 

Enter the emotional bucket - an (un)healthy mix of whining, tears, and random brain firings that don't necessarily make any sense at all. I spent 45 minutes on the phone tonight doing that the kind of sobbing that leaves your face swollen for hours. Dead sexy, I know. 

When I walked out of the doctor's office last week, I was thankful that I would be able to run right up until my surgery. Which meant I didn't have to deal with my vice being ripped out from under me for at least a few more weeks. I could continue running, get up to 15-16 mile long runs, tempo runs, and all that other sweaty goodness that makes me deliriously happy. 

The reality hasn't been rainbows and puppy dogs. That test beat the crap out of me, much more so than I expected. I had 2 failed runs towards the end of last week, which left me in tears, hobbling home with a swollen leg. I've been subjected to many hours on the trainer, as well as some swimming and elliptical workouts mixed in there for good measure. 

Yes, I should be thankful I can still workout. I have the green light to stay on that bike trainer as long as I want to, so long as the leg doesn't hurt.  I can get in a lot of quality cardio, as well as piles of strength training. I should be using this time to learn to embrace other forms of cardio to get my sweat on. 

Yet all I see when I look at my inbox, or Facebook, or Twitter is running. Signing up for long races, war stories about long runs, successful track workouts, and race reports. Don't get me wrong - I am deliriously happy for everyone, and I am incredibly sincere when I say that. But I would be lying if I said it wasn't hard to read all of that, and then hopping on my trainer for the 600th hour this week. 

Being outdoors, running on those roads when there's no one around, chatting with great friends for hours on a long run, choking down Gu at hours 2 and 3 of a 20 mile run are those moments that I savor. I'm that freak that loves, loves, loves my long runs. I miss it, and of course since I can't have it, have never wanted it more than I do right now. 

In Sobfest 2012 that occurred this afternoon at the expense of my poor sister, I let out every last frustration. She listened, didn't tell me I was wrong, didn't tell me "everything's going to be okay", and just let me cry until I was completely empty. I know I have to turn a corner, and move onto the acceptance phase. I know I'll get there. I know a lot of people may think I'm being overly dramatic, or not quite understand. And that's okay too. 

I'm going to continue sweating, in whatever form I can get it right now. I'm going to try to get back on the roads when my leg fully recovers from the testing last week. And when I DO get back on those roads, I promise to savor every mile I can pound the pavement until the day I go under the knife. 

It's times when running is taken away from you that you learn to truly appreciate it the most. Right now, I'd take a bad track workout, or a sucktastic tempo run over watching a pack of happy runners bounce by from the inside of a sweaty gym. 

Happy Training Friends..