I’ve been working hard to get back in shape. It’s difficult, and it’s not made easier by the fact that I’m just beginning and progress is still hard to see. I’m not just trying to lose weight — I’m also trying to work my way back from debilitating spasms in my lower back in August, and then a sprained adductor muscle that put me off the soccer team for the rest of the year. And then before that it was tendonitis in my ankles and then plantar fasciitis. And before that it was more back problems.
Still, I’m not giving up. I’ve got my diet under control, but if I don’t also exercise then my back will get worse. Sitting all day isn’t exactly horrible, but it’s unpleasantly achey. The simple fact is, I need to exercise just to keep the aches and pains at bay. And, specifically, I need to run to keep my back in shape.
With that in mind, I went for a run this morning. I got up extra-early, donned my runners and stepped out. It felt great, and I was looking forward to catching the sunrise as I came around the far side of Green Lake.
Then, I stepped on a pine cone and sprained my ankle. Immediately, as I hit the ground, I knew what it meant: no exercise for weeks.
I’m not a capable enough writer to express how frustrating this is. I was sobbing as I limped back up the path.
I know what it takes to get myself fit again, and I’m eager to put in the time and sweat to make it happen, but I’m stuck in a cycle of injuries that keep knocking me off my stride.
Frustration. Frustration. Frustration.