some notes on my butt

I am ONCE AGAIN sidelined with a random running injury.  Let us list my athletic medical history!

1. Runner's knee. They crackle to this day. Impressively.
2. Achilles tendonitis. I had to wear running shoes to and from the statehouse in Maryland and then stand in the lobby and awkwardly put heels on while trying not to make eye contact with any of the politicians. It was fashionable and not awesome.
3. BENIGN LEG TUMOR (my personal favorite). That shit is still in there, being benign and never ever hurting, except for that one time when I was training for a half marathon and it decided to hurt all the time and scare everyone. Here it is in all its glory:

It's that huge black thing wrapping around the bone. It looks scary, but it literally does nothing but sit there. Kind of like me right now, which brings us to:
6. Some butt thing idk. I would be more specific, but a team (A TEAM!) (but decidedly not the A-team) of physical therapists has no idea what's going on. I think it's piriformis syndrome, which is a fancy way of saying that I've somehow pissed off a muscle deep inside my butt, but the doctors can't agree on anything. To "recover," I'm basically half-assing a bunch of PT exercises that don't seem to help or hit the correct spot. Some days it hurts, some days it doesn't. I'm friends with ice packs and heating pads and ibuprofen and whining. Standard. (My poor boyfriend, y'all. I am lucky that he is the sweetest.)

Us and my butt, in happier running times.

In the mean time, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself, aside from canceling my registration for the marathon I was going to do in June. Registering for races and then not getting to run them is totally becoming my jam. I think I will get a second opinion from a doctor who maybe knows what he's doing. I think I will try to bike, I guess, but that hurts my extremely bony butt in a whole other kind of way, which seems to sort of defeat the purpose.

On the plus side, I am relatively sure that there is not a tumor in my butt. Though I guess that would be the logical progression of my life.

That time I ran a half-marathon pain-free. I remember you fondly,

on account of you were a month ago.

Edited to add: existing tags I added to this post include "ow my butt," "it's not a toomah," "sadness and woe" and "these tags are ridiculous." Just. What.

Planz with a Z so you know it's serious

After weeks (months?) of confused Googling and website stalking, I finally got this in my email yesterday:



Booyah. April 25. I had actually found it on the NYC Marathon website a few days before (seriously, I was stalking that mother at least three times a week), but I appreciate email confirmation because I am terrible at all things logistical. Also geographical, I am not quite sure how I survived before Google Maps.

Anyway, now that I have a firm date (which is excitingly less than two weeks away!), I can make a plan. This is extra thrilling for me because I love a good plan, and this is a very good plan. Behold!

Step one: get nothing done at work on April 25 while I sit around and watch the live-streaming of the lottery. I have no idea what this means or looks like, by the way. Do they show the name of everyone who gets in? Do I need to look for my confirmation number? I know that I get an email either way, so do I NEED to watch the lottery? That last question is moot, you understand, because I will watch it either way; the big question here is how to do that in the extremely not-private area that is my newsroom. The sports editor is also in the lottery, so maybe we can watch it at his desk, which is more in a corner than mine, and maybe I will bring popcorn and wear a sweatband or my Chicago medal for good luck. (I'm nothing if not covert.)

Step two, part one: get ridiculously, super excited that I got in, flail around, yell a little, blow my cover, continue to get no work done, get made fun by my editor for being that excited to run 26.2 miles again.

OR

Step two, part two: don't get in (statistically, this is the more realistic option; I think there is less than a 10 percent chance of making it this year), feel bummed for a few minutes, probably complain, and then get over it and register for this guy:



The Raleigh City of Oaks Marathon. It's on Nov. 4, the same day as New York. Obviously, it is not as exciting (thanks for reminding me Dad!) but Raleigh has its perks. It's way cheaper, it's driveable, I can stay with friends and I really love the idea of running my second marathon in my new home state, even though I am sure it will be approximately one hundred degrees that day because I am not sure if you KNEW, but it is 100 degrees basically all of the time in North Carolina except for a week in January.

If I could pick, I'd choose New York, but honestly not by that big of a margin. Really I just want to run another marathon and the specifics of it don't concern me too much. I am ready to start training again, I am ready to have a goal to look forward to, I am ready to kill my Chicago time and I am ready to be on the starting line again, staring 26.2 miles in the face. (I can't even type it without smiling!) I already emailed my fabulous running coach (the message was just FULL OF CAPSLOCK) and he agreed to deal with my crazy ass through another training cycle. So really all I have to do now is wait for it to be April 25, which is great because being patient is totally one of my strong points and I am not at all annoyed that it's still 12 days away NOT AT ALL.

I plan to cope by talking incessantly about it (check) and by running now that I am over the Cold Of Death and by stalking said running coach as he tries to break 2:30 (you read that right) at Boston. That goal is apparently in jeopardy a bit, as he sent me the following message a bit ago:

"The objective for Boston has quickly turned to, "just get to the finish line and don't die." Get a load of this article.

http://boston.cbslocal.com/2012/04/13/boston-marathon-weather-forecast-88-degrees/"

Yikes. Don't believe him though, he is basically incapable of taking it easy and will probably run a 2:25 and then be all, "What? I don't know. I guess it's kind of warm." And I will be all, "You should have just trained for it in North Carolina, where it is always tropical and I do not complain about it ever."