Filed under: Dealing | Tags: cross-training, fight, healing, marathon, memories, races, running, sadness, struggle
My knees don’t hurt. My heel doesn’t hurt. I’m not tired. I wasn’t even tired yesterday, though I took a rest day from exercising. It appears that I recovered from the 15-miler quite quickly, to my utmost relief and surprise! Week 13 in the countdown starts today. I went to the Y and did my normal cross-training routine: 45 minutes on the stationary bike, making sure to keep myself between 80 and 100 RPM; twenty minutes of core exercises (crunches, leg lifts, push-ups, planks, etcetera); and lots of stretching.
I thought I would hate cross-training, but it’s becoming quite enjoyable. Now that I’m not running with the Team, there are few people who I can train with who match my mileage and pace (I go too slow and/or too long, it seems, for most of my friends). Training has been a solitary venture. I like going to the gym simply because there are other people around. It’s a break from the same scenery which, I have to admit, is getting a bit drab. I’m a social person, and since the break-up, I’ve found myself wanting to be around people more often.
Once in a while, I’ve found myself wondering what I will do after the marathon is over. It’s less than four months away. It’s been nearly half a year since my life was turned inside-out. I wonder if I will truly be healed when I cross that finish line. That was always the plan, wasn’t it? I wasn’t just running to run – this was a timeline, a path that I could follow through the darkness and into the sun.
But sometimes the darkness is still dark, as if I run through a deep canyon, the sky only a crack of light far above my pumping legs.
