There are only so many ways one can say "I'm still not running", and I've decidedly run out. I can't say things aren't getting better. But if they are, it's at an imperceptible pace. Stuck on 90% for weeks now. Maybe could do something like running. But not much. And not really.
It is what it is though, yeah? Risk acknowledged, accepted, and now being paid off.
A friend told me I was getting old, or at least older, too old perhaps to just hammer as I've always done, and trust my body to put itself back together.
But fuck. 26? That can't be it.
May take another trip to the doc. He did advise I do so, if things weren't back to normal in a couple of weeks. That couple of weeks will be past, come this Tuesday, and I'd say we're decidedly sub normal.
The rush, if it can be called that, has nothing at all to do with racing, and everything to do with general angst, anxiety, and absence. I want to run again and not doing so is grating. I'll be going to Colorado with the folks in a month, and if I'm reduced to exclusively walking, well, I shouldn't bitch, and I might not, because I don't want to ruin things for them, but in my head there will be bitching aplenty.
Hiking is a delicious supplement to running but as a main course it leaves me quite ravenous.
As ever, we'll see. This all sounds a bit negative, I realize. And it kind of is. But things take time. I get that. Even if I don't want it.