14 Days To Go Until…….
“All the adversity I’ve had in my life, all my troubles and obstacles, have strengthened me… You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you.” -Walt Disney
Until what, I’m not sure. Until this past Monday, I thought a “stress reaction” meant diving head first into a cake during hard times, or having an uncharacteristic moment of road rage after being cut off by a particularly bone-headed driver. Bad hair day? Throw a brush across the room. Forgot the one thing you went to the grocery store for? Curse the Kroger for not putting the milk in a more obvious location.
Apparently parts of the body can have hissy fits and stress reactions of their own and in this case, my tibia is pretty darn pissed off at me for running on concrete and, most likely, not stretching enough. In fact, it’s more than likely that my tibia is down there in my leg giving me the bird.
Why? Last week I wrote a post about a trip to the doctor and an MRI I had scheduled as a result of that visit. So how did the MRI turn out? Not great. I was going to cancel the MRI and I honestly thought it was going to be a waste of my time, but a little nagging voice somewhere in my gut said to go. It’s a good thing I listened. I suppose I’ve been a run or three away from a nice little stress fracture as the bulge in my tibia is the result of swelling and fluid in the actual bone marrow. Ewww! There is also fluid building up on the outside of the bone and to top it off, shin splints. The doctor I’m seeing for this issue, one of the best in Nashville, dealt me a one-two-three punch on Monday. “You’re bone is injured.” POW! “No running for six to twelve weeks.” POW, POW! “Here’s an air cast I want you to wear for the foreseeable future.” POW, POW, POW!
Obviously, my first question was, “Can I still do the triathlon?” His answer, “Um, no.” SERIOUSLY? Firstly, I’m not a cryer. As I’ve said in posts past, I only cry over the Olympics and stories relating to dogs and our military. So when I started crying in front of the doctor, the weight of my disappointment was startlingly heavy. Thankfully, I simmered myself down and was able to cap off the waterworks. Secondly, I was able to maintain perspective and reminded myself of the other races out there and the bigger problems in the world. I understand the moral of my own story, but the yin to that yang is that I’ve worked hard and have been so excited for the Santa Rosa Island Triathlon. I’m bummed, but it’s ok. I have a plan.
My first thought while driving home from the Dr.’s office and before calling my coach to break the bad news was that I could try to put a last-minute relay team together and just do the swim. Then I thought, no. Maybe this is a sign that I’m not supposed to do the race? Is it really that important? Just last week we had a family member still on life support after sustaining critical injuries while doing a triathlon and I was crying about having to wait a few months to compete in one. Perspective. I’ll do what the doctor says, be thankful that I didn’t actually fracture my leg and continue to work towards my goals. Do the next right thing.
I’ll be meeting my coach for coffee soon to discuss my next step (I’m still swimming and biking on my trainer) and what race I will train for next, once my leg is all healed up. In the meantime, I’m waiting to hear the SRIT race director’s response to an e-mail my brother-in-law sent in regards to allowing a last-minute relay team entry. He and my sister, who are signed up in their age group, are willing to bow out and do a relay so that I don’t have to stand on the sidelines. I had no idea he was trying to make that happen for me until I read the e-mail today. The waterworks went off again. I am blessed to have family like that.
Next: Grant’s Gang, a fund-raising effort for the widow and children of Gary Grant, an amazing human and fellow triathlete.
(Photo Source: My co-writer for the day, Maddie, 9-19-2012)