Day 285 of 365: Charley Horse

From a medical standpoint, it makes perfect sense. From a life standpoint, it's some serious bullshit.


I've been dealing with a feeling like I had bruised the back of my right thigh for a few days now -- only there is no bruise. I couldn't help but laugh at the new monkey wrench being thrown into the machine, just as the back of my left knee has started to finally heal up. I told my husband (who tends to be my go-to medical guy, since his father is a doctor and, whatever information he didn't glean from his dad, he can get from calling up said dad) who said, "Sounds like a muscle sprain. And it makes perfect sense that it happened."


Apparently, when you injure one leg, you will very likely injure your other leg in some way while trying to compensate. So, while hobbling along with my left leg, doing my best not to injure it any further, I sprained a hamstring muscle.


Obviously this means that my 3-mile "can I do it?" run isn't happening today. I'm giving myself another chance; if I can run those three miles tomorrow, then I can try to actually get this half-marathon going again. But even in my most stubborn state, I recognize that I'll probably be sitting this one out as well. At least I spent a little extra money this time around and bought registration fee insurance, so, if I have to, at least I won't be eating a massive registration fee like before.


I think the most frustrating part about this is the realization that I'm no longer at my physical peak. I get injured now. A lot. And it takes a while to heal. I'm not the 16-year-old anymore who can eat pavement and be fine the next day. I get shin splints. I get achy backs. And it's really easy to be frustrated over the "wasted youth", as if I could go into a time machine and keep myself from quitting things like ballet and track.


But that's life, and you can't get attached to the things you know will end. You can't hope for things to never change when change is inevitable. That's, like, rule number one in life. So while I nurse both legs now, all I can do is recognize that what I have right now is a gift -- that 37-year-old me will look back on this time with the same longing that I look back on my potential physicality at 17 -- and keep on keeping on. Charley horse and all.