And then all my optimism fainted and I allowed myself to be miserable for once. To be sorry for myself. To be heartbroken. To feel like crying. To be angry.
Spent last weekend cheering on everyone running Cortina, Lavaredo, Skyrace, Mont Blanc Cross and Marathon. Tracking everyone with fingers crossed for them following their progress. Waiting at the finish line with proud hug to all finishers. And feeling incredibly sorry for myself that no one thought how I felt. I felt like shit. It is better that no one asked.
But it is not cool that I felt like that.
But I did. First I was angry I’m not missing running. Then I was angry I’m not cheerful. Then I was angry I can’t run my race. Then I was sad that everyone else can. Then I was overthinking my overthinking. Then I sat down on the balcony floor in the middle of the night and started crying. Oh, how brave I am. Not.
My hip hurts, my left calf hurts, my legs hurt, my ego is freaking bruised. Two weeks of being cheerful kept me alive. Now I got upset. Upset I can’t walk properly. Upset it is my own fault. Upset I pushed my tiny legs too much. Upset I wasn’t listening to my body. Upset I was following training rather than the odd sensations and heavy legs. Upset I don’t know my limits.
That’s why. That’s why I have stress fracture. I don’t know my limits. I can tolerate pain and it wasn’t really painful. But I knew something was wrong. But I kept going. Me. The one who always says “it’s just running”. The one who always shouts about “rest being part of the training”. Me, big advocate of “rather stop for week than stopping for months”. Me, saying “the races will always be here.” Myself, who is so angry, that I want to shout out loud how much I hate the stupid heavy shitty boot, remove it, smash it against the wall and climb Mont Blanc instead. But as I’m angrily typing this, I’m sitting at my desk in my office clothes and my face won’t show a single emotion. I prefer it that way. Scream inside and don’t bother people with my own negative emotions. It is not their fault. Nor their problem.
Don’t cheer me up. Don’t say it will be ok. That I should take it slowly. One step at a time. I know all of that. I just want to be miserable for a while. It will pass. Don’t ask me about the stupid boot.
Let me be in the darkness so I can see the stars.
Bye CCC, see you in 2018.