I’ve been unusually quiet lately. The question of the day has been, “where are you?” Sorry. I have been obsessed with numbers lately. Running (Really, RCB!). Watching my diet. Drinking water (Really, SJB!). For the past three weeks I have been meticulously watching myself like a hawk. I’m not used to me watching moi, but there is it. In that time I have run 38.27 miles, managed to eat healthy all but one day (I was at an all-day conference. What can I say?), and drank 91 glasses of water. I’m watching cholesterol, sodium, and carb numbers, too. So many numbers. Statistician, I am not!
I am most proud of the running numbers because 1) I only allow myself “about” 30 minutes at a time on the treadmill. I refuse to let the other parts of my life suffer due to the run – cooking, reading, hanging out with the kisa man…and 2) I am experiencing a sort of breakthrough, if you will. I haven’t felt any pain whatsoever. However, I have plans to make ongoing appointments with PT. One leg is still considerably longer than the other and it doesn’t have anything to do with bone length. The femur measurements are equal so there is “something else going on” as Dr. A would say. Imagine. Just imagine, if I got the leg/hip thing sorted out and it opened new doors…like returning to a run longer than five miles? What would I do with a pain-free run that lasted for say, an hour? Ninety minutes? My mind practically tingles at the thought, the very idea. My Sweet Sundays could be a return to the real run. A return to flying.
So. The question of the day is this. How much do I push? Where is my enemy? Speed? Distance? Or…heaven forbid, both? How do I test the boundaries without pissing someone (ahem!) off? Last night I knew kisa was going to be latelate (work is blowing up) and that gave me the opportunity to sneak. I got on the tread and ran 40 minutes. Tried a program called “rolling hills” (whatever that means) that took me from a 12 minute mile to an 8 minute mile in increments of .5 every 30 seconds. Mentally, I handled it just fine. Cardio speaking it was easy. I could have done it all day. Physically…that’s another story. The conversation with myself revealed muscle pain an inch above the knee which can only mean one thing: the anterior cruciate ligament was doing all the squawking. So. The question remains. Speed or distance? Both were put to the test and someone barely passed.
Musical letdown – I don’t have Eye of the Tiger by Survivor on my iPod! The horror!