A Girl and Her Mat

My body feels bored already, but that’s probably my head telling my body how to react.  My leg hurts and I’ve accepted that part…I think.  During the Philly Marathon, my left calf cramp kicked in at mile five.  I continued to push past that to finish with a smile on my face.  The pain that endured two days following didn’t tarnish my ear-to-ear grin.  So there, ha!  I win.  Tuesday’s gym experience was quite eventful after a mere thirty minutes on the bike.  I started to roll my sore and swollen calf when my shin appeared to cave in on itself.  Modern medical marvel?  No, just some sexy pitting edema (Google it – hot stuff).  By the time Thursday rolled around, post-massage, I felt like myself again. 
Saturday’s activities would set me straight.  I ran the Bethlehem Turkey Trot 5K while pushing my darling ladies.  And please let me elaborate on the adjective ‘darling’.  The girls failed to cooperate with each other for most of the race.  Allison wanted NOTHING to do with the gloves I continued to put on her pudgy hands, Ava wanted EVERYTHING to do with touching Allison.  Both girls REFUSED to share the blanket I brought.  Playing referee before and during the race was the easy part.  Pushing over 100 lbs. through the flat streets of Bethlehem (sarcasm) with a sensitive calf would prohibit me from walking normally for the rest of the day.  I was overjoyed to push the whiny carriage across the finishing mat in the hopes that my cramp would subside with some stretching.  No dice.Since I got to the race later than I had hoped (yeah, I realized my bib was at home about 1/2 of the way there), my parking spot was less than desirable from a distance perspective.  And I had to walk up hill, in the snow with no shoes.  Might as well have been that bad.  I tried to exercise my left ankle throughout the day and I made sure to ice it after a tender massage.  I knew that after care and time my calf would be back in business.  The most challenging part for me is the passage of time.  Passing time = no training.  Bummer.  As of yesterday, I surrendered to my body by not participating in any more races for the rest of 2012.  This doesn’t sound too bad, but I’m worried that I’ll lose any sense of focus if there’s nothing mapped out in the near future.   
Today, I rolled out my yoga mat as a way to officially mark my period of rehabilitation.  Sounds dramatic, yes, but do you know me?  I spent a good forty-five minutes genuinely breathing through every pose as the sunlight peeked through the room.  I placed myself on the mat in Savasana with a long exhale.  My focus wouldn’t be lost; my focus would shift to what’s important.  Right now, the focus is on recovery.  I spent eighteen weeks training for a marathon – building strength and endurance while making sacrifices along the way.  The chapter of recovery won’t be as long, I promise you, but it’s time to make other sacrifices while building my strength back up again.  I just have to keep telling myself that.