I’ve had some good folks reach out to me over the interweb to check on me. I’m still here. Like so many of us, I’m where I’ve been for months. This pandemic is taking a toll on so many and I really shouldn’t complain as so many have it way, way, WAY tougher than I do. Amongst the worst notable things to happen recently was I forgot the sour cream I bought in the trunk of my car. If that’s not first world problems, I don’t know what would be.
I will socially distance and wear a mask for however long it takes. Because that’s the right thing to do. And I know it’s annoying and my glasses fog despite anti-fogging spray and a microcloth that supposed to I guess grant the lenses the power of fog repellent. Again, super first world problems. But beyond those annoyances, I’m pretty lucky during all this. That’s what I keep trying to tell myself.
But in addition to all of that, well, I’m tired. And beaten down. But most of all I’m scared.
I’m scared of the world we live in, with its pandemic, social unrest, strongmen power grabs, racial inequalities, vitriol and lack of empathy.
I’m scared of murder hornets and brushfires and climate change and the end of days-ness of it all.
I’m scared even to start running again. I am loath to run.
I’ve been to so many doctors. Had so many tests run. I’ve heard everything from “run through the pain and come back and see us in 6 weeks” to “let’s get you some physical therapy” that proved a cure worse than the ailment, to “stay off it for 4 weeks and then come back and see us.”
I’ve done the not-running thing and psychologically it destroyed me. Once I decided I needed to go against the conflicting and irreconcilable advice of various doctors, I started running technically “against medical advice.” People could tell even over email tat I was in a better place. But then I had to stop once more for a series of lithotripsy procedures to preventatively take care of a kidney stone that I didn’t even know I had and wasn’t experiencing any issues with. My leg was the problem but that had to take a backseat to other things. Right now I’ve got an all-clear to start exercising and running again… and yet I’m scared to run.
I know it’s going to hurt. And in the running I did attempt “through the pain” that helped mentally, I was so easily winded and struggled with the loss of endurance and fitness. It was a blow physically and morale-y. Not morally. What’s a blow to one’s morale? It was certainly dispiriting. But I was better with the pain and the dispirited runs than I was without them.
And so I am going to try running again. I told myself I was going to start today… but I chickened out. So much of the stress and pain of life comes from the putting off of doing things, from the worrying about what might happen, of what might be. That’s not to say one shouldn’t consider the options and possibilities but there comes a point of diminishing returns, when the fretting and hand-wringing takes a far greater toll than what might be or even what is.
I tell myself this to try and psyche myself into running. I’m going to try tomorrow. Because ignoring the problem or just putting it off until later is no way to live. We’re all stuck in this moment of the pandemic. We all need to do the hard work and get back to where we’d liked to be. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to run a marathon again, or travel the world, or even just run a 10K. But to find out I need to take a step.
And then another.
And then another.
And then another…