Dear Elli,
I ran a 10K today. That's 6.2 miles. It's really not a big deal for most athletes. The bad ass boys and girls are out there running ultra marathons and shit.
But it was a big deal for me. A really big freaking deal. And I'm kind of feeling myself tonight. (That means I'm pretty proud of myself in Beyonce language.)
Eleven months ago, I couldn't walk to the mailbox without limping. I'm not being even a little bit dramatic when I say that. After about 15 years of moderate back problems, the big one finally came for me. The widowmaker of lower back injuries (I'm being a little bit dramatic now). During the worst of it, I sobbed like a baby and maybe would've sold my soul to satan himself for a single minute free of the spine crushing pain. For the first time of my life thus far, I was reduced to a hysterical mess. Not joking. It was really bad. Childbirth was like a flu shot compared to that shit.
So I finally went to the doctor because I couldn't stand up straight and also because I was really scared. And after the tests, guess what he told me? I was diagnosed with this ridiculously stupid thing called Degenerative Disc Disease, predominately in the lowest two discs of my spine. Oh, and one of them is also herniated. So basically, I'm screwed up.
Guess what else he told me?
He told me I would probably never run again.
He shouldn't have said that to me.
Hey Doc - Hold my beer.
I started standing upright again after a healthy dose of steroids (the drug of the gods) and a couple weeks of daily visits to the chiropractor. So I started walking. 1/4 mile at a time at first. It hurt. And it was embarrassing. I'm not even 40, and I'm an athlete. Walking slowly through my neighborhood like a retired lady is embarrassing.
Have I ever told you that I'm not a patient woman?
It took eleven months. Eleven. Freaking. Months. Eleven months of walking, stretching, squatting, lunging, pullup-ing, pushup-ing, tricep dipping, stationary biking, step-upping, and finally - RUNNING! Hot damn, I was running again! Very carefully and mindfully and VERY slowly, but I was finally running!
So I signed up for this race over the summer. A 5K probably would've made the most sense for a recovering almost middle-aged crippled woman like myself, but I'm not a big fan of doing shit that makes a lot of sense. So a 10K it was! After all, if I'm going to collapse on the pavement in a fit of agony during a race, it can't be a 5K. That would be embarrassing, and I'm tired of being embarrassed by my useless spine.
Guess what? I did it today. (Duh...I wouldn't be writing this if I didn't. I'd probably be sobbing like a baby and trying to sell my soul again).
6.2 miles. I ran every damn one of them.
Hey Doc - stick that in your pipe and smoke it. And keep the beer. It's eleven months old now.
I love you kiddo. Don't let anything stop you. Ever.
Mom
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