i woke up early this morning. this was in part because i went to sleep when josh did (ie, before 10 pm) but also because i am totally preoccupied about my stupid injured foot. i keep trying to avoid thinking about it*, but words like ‘marathon . . . achilles . . . running’ keep finding their way back into my consciousness.
i am going to attempt to bike today at the gym. to cross-train and maintain fitness, because whether i run my upcoming marathon or not, i want to be doing something. i haven’t done a cross training activity (other than the odd strength-training or yoga session) in . . . well, honestly i can’t even think of a time. i think i used to use the stairmaster in college when all the treadmills were taken, so probably 6+ years. i have never set foot on an elliptical trainer — it just looks like such an odd motion to me. all this just means that i have been a very lucky runner who probably got away with murder by remaining non-injured through the years. i just wish the miraculous luck could have lasted another 3 weeks, so that i could run miami like i TRAINED MY ASS OFF FOR. (#*$&(*#&(&!!!
sorry. isn’t anger one of the stages of grief?
* and we know well that works, right?