Falling in love again
Never wanted to
What am I to do?
I can’t help it
And because nobody should ever be able to read those words without having the song going through their heads, I’ll direct you here. You’re welcome.
I haven’t run in eight days.
I have a note from my doctor. Maybe not from my actual doctor, but From the Desk of Dr. I Said I’m Sick. HCRP and I have both succumbed to The Creeping Crud that’s been going around down here in Dixieland. It’s an Upper Respiratory Today, Gastrointestinal Tomorrow melange of congestion and sneezing and coughing and queasiness and TMIness, and zero energy dragginess that’s making the rounds while the weather makes up its mind between September and December from one day to the next. The idea of hacking up a lung in the middle of the trail doesn’t appeal to me much more than finding out exactly who does what in the woods whether there’s anybody there to see it or not.
And the thing is, I haven’t missed it.
Not one step.
I haven’t envied my friends who’ve been posting runs on Facebook.
I haven’t gazed longingly at my Asics.
I haven’t felt the first twinge of guilt seeing my packed-since-Monday gym bag languishing in the trunk of the car all week.
I just haven’t felt The Run all week.
Which isn’t very good since we have the St. Jude Half Marathon in less than a month. Chances are good I’m going to end up walking a fair amount of that one. But I’ll be there and walking or running I’ll be doing it for The Kids.
Speaking of changes in schedule . . . Yes, we were.
Last week I got a call from my surgeon’s office. Remember that reduction mammoplasty thing I had all planned out and scheduled for the end of February? The one that’s going to make running all new and different and less painful from the waist up? Well wha’ ha’ happen waaaas . . .
Starting January 1st Ye Olde Boobie Reducing Doctor will no longer be accepting our health insurance.
*bursts into hysterical laughter*
Really, I did. I started laughing.
So my options were:
A) Reschedule to a date prior to December 31st.
B) Not have this done at all since this is the only doctor in a city overrun with doctors (and coincidentally lawyers) who will do Boobie Reducing surgery and (for the moment anyway) accepts our health insurance.
I think what the Mayans meant by The World’s Gonna End in 2012 was really “Women who need Boobie Reducing Surgery and whose husbands are retired military and who live in Memphis will be SOL after 2012.”
The surgery is now scheduled for Thursday, December 6th.
I planned and the Mayans laughed.
All things – and my recovery – being equal I should still be able to participate in The New Orleans Half Marathon next February. Maybe not the fastest Half ever run, but certainly the most comfortable in my experience. Unless the Mayans have some issue with that plan too.
But first The Run and I have to renew our romance.
I’m not anticipating flowers or candy, and something tells me I’m going to have to make the first move because as we all know running is notoriously shy until it gets to know you.
Hey Running! How you doin’?
Got any plans Monday after work?
How about you and me find a nice, quiet place and I’ll treat you to three or four miles.