Keep Challenging

Today, I was challenged with an injury. Not only was it challenging in a physical sense because I was suddenly immobile, had to reschedule clients, and bounced between ice on the couch and easy steps on the treadmill, but it shed light on challenges I thought I was doing better with. 

My alarm sound at 5:30, giving me my precious hour of coffee, reading and writing before heading out for a run or out to the garage for some lifting. With my husbands work schedule as crazy as its been, he was forced to stay for 3rd shift, which made this morning an automatic running-rest day for me. I sipped away next to a dessert scented candle, thinking about what exercises I'd put myself through shortly after. I closed my book, tossed back my last sip of coffee, pulled my knee sleeves on, and went out to the garage. Bench press and high pulls to start, sounded good! 10 sounded like a solid number of reps for today - lets do this. Oh, what's that? Sudden sharp pain in my back? Huh, that's weird. Guess I won't be finishing out the 4-5 sets I had hoped to complete. After taking a few steps and feeling my back grow increasingly stiff, my mind shifted from exercise to work. "Well, this is going to be uncomfortable today" I adorably thought to myself just before the pain grew so much that I suddenly found myself stuck in the garage; kids asleep, husband still at work, barbells and weights everywhere. Shit! It took a while but I managed to get myself back into the house and on top of an ice pack, after spilling several cubes onto the floor and laughing at the fact that there was nothing I could do about it. Doctors orders: ice for 15 minutes. Done. Went to get up to excitedly wake Lyla for her first day of school...nope. Stuck, once again. Double shit! I sent tiny Hannah to her sister's room with orders to "kindly" wake her, while I lay like a lump on the couch until my husband finally arrived home to help me up. I took this opportunity to admit that I may not be working today (or the next day for that matter), and apologetically messaged several clients. 

The day was spoken for me: Heat, walk, self massage, gentle stretch, ice, repeat. Trying to be the glass-half-full kind of lady I typically am, I first tried to reason with this silly but extremely painful injury; maybe I needed it to appreciate the long runs to come, since I've done nothing but dread and complain about them. Maybe it was a sign to slow down. Maybe it happened to get me out of my comfort zone of work and forcibly cancel clients, which I've only ever done once before when I was fever ridden and stuck in bed. Or, it's quite possible it happened to make me come face to face with what I struggle with the most. 

I went from "glass half full" to trying to appreciate there being anything in my glass at all.

Mentally, I fought myself all day. I was instructed to walk in order to keep moving and avoid prolonged sitting, which I happily committed to since I couldn't shake the "bad" feeling of an incomplete work out this morning. It was nothing strenuous, seeing how I was barely able to walk in the first place, but I hobbled onto the treadmill 5 different times and walked a painfully slow mile each time. I'd be lying if I said that it was entirely geared towards what's best for my back - I played with the speed (though didn't get far before stabbing pains made that decision for me) and the incline because, hey, I wanted to do the most I could within reason. Once I realized what I was doing, or rather, how I was thinking, I said to myself out loud "I really suck at rest days" - and I do. 

As I continued my walking pattern throughout the day, I fell more in love with running and longed for this pain to go away. Feelings of jealousy bubbled up knowing close friends got their miles in, and fear of being stuck like this was a crippling thought. Everything I ate or drank throughout the day was stained orange by turmeric, which I added in generous amounts to naturally help with inflammation. I just wanted to be better! 

And then unhealthy food thoughts emerged. Now that I didn't get to exercise, I had to watch what I ate more than ever. It didn't help that a few nights before I allowed myself to eat "normal" at a wedding by picking at the food served instead of packing my own, and polishing it off with not one but two slices of wedding cake - there was chocolate and vanilla, I mean, I had to try them both! Initially, I did well with this decision. I felt in control of my disordered, over-thinking eating because, at that moment, I was able to rid of the guilt. The cake was insanely delicious and I enjoyed having it, I even embraced the all-day belly I sported the next day as my gut's reaction. However, what I didn't realize is that letting go of the guilt came with strings attached, and they were attached to thoughts of that weeks 20 miler, heavier lifting days, and healthier food choices. Suddenly, as I lay stuck on the couch with no chance of running in the next few days, feelings of guilt flooded me. Everything I work so hard to get out of my head - like calorie counting and "earning" or "burning off" food - consumed me. 

All of these feelings were a wake up call of how I will never be done working on a better me. I thought I was exercising healthfully, when really I was still using it to justify rest days and food intake. I thought I had stopped comparing myself to others and yet felt painfully jealous of friends who got to exercise. I thought I had a better handle on food, when suddenly I'm adding up the calories in my eggs and avocado once again. 

So, do I think this back injury happened for a reason? Who knows. What I do know is that I embrace the opportunity to challenge myself by coming face to face with my struggles, because right now, there is no exercise or busy work days to distract me. Just me and my limited self, alternating between heat and ice, trying to heal in more ways than one.