Just Call Me Oscar

This is not a training blog post, because today is not a training day. Throwing some weight around sure would be fun though. This is not a fluffy, happy blog post, because I am not feeling so happy. I am sure that my family would agree that I am not a nice person to be around lately. I am moody, cranky, frustrated, and just one wrong word away from a leak springing from my eyes. My husband made the mistake last night of asking if I was unhappy because he asked me to help with something, and my response was less than gentle. He wasn’t the reason for how I was feeling, how I am still feeling, but explaining the source is not an easy task. It isn’t as simple as one thing. It is complicated. Complex. A combination of things that has created a perfect storm within me.

I am sore. The normal muscle soreness I can live with. A few days or weeks of soreness from a change to my training is not that big of a deal. That kind of soreness may not be much fun when it hurts to walk or move, but it is a soreness with purpose and it will not last forever. I am okay with that. But there is a new soreness which is actually an old pain…the bottom of my right hip. This pain isn’t too bad right now, but I am pissed off that it has returned. This is not productive pain. This is pain that signals a problem, and it is a problem that makes me frustrated and unhappy. This flare up of hip pain is a giant step backwards and incredibly depressing.

I have also had some mild pain in my lower back off and on for the past several days. It isn’t too bad, but I’m used to not really have any back pain. Knowing that I have a disc issue makes me a little paranoid now that there is some back pain.

I told my chiropractor that I could stop running if that was necessary to heal the disc issue. I told him that I wasn’t happy about not running again, but I was a big girl. He thought that was debatable. I love my chiropractor. I appreciate his wit and sarcasm and personality. His comment made me laugh out loud in mock offense. I am a big girl. I will not run again for a long time. As much as I like to give my chiropractor a hard time about his feelings towards running, I do trust that he will be honest with me. If he says that I shouldn’t run, then I believe that I shouldn’t run. I don’t have to like it though. And that’s where I am right now. I suppose it is kind of like I am grieving. While I did miss not running for the past 4.5 months, I survived quite well without it. I focused on my power-lifting and enjoyed not baking during an afternoon summer run. I enjoyed an extra couple of hours of sleep on my days off rather than stepping out for a run before the sun’s appearance. I did miss the act of running, but there was so much about running that I didn’t miss very much at all. But then the final powerlifting meet of the year took place and I could run! Hope took hold and everything that I love about running started flowing through my veins again.

That hope was crushed on Tuesday, and I feel its death with every little throb in my hip. Maybe my chiropractor was right…perhaps there is a valid debate as to my being a big girl or not, because I really, really want to throw a little temper tantrum, yell into the wind, cry bitter tears, and pound my fists into the air. This isn’t fair, and it isn’t the way it should be. I have been patient. I have done all the things I have been told to do. I am angry at myself for even daring to run again, for allowing that hope to take root. I am even mad at myself for being so upset that I need to stop running again.

And then there is the kitchen renovation. I am so excited for it to be happening after all these years of hating my kitchen, but I am already feeling the stress of it all. Actually, I think it is more the disorder and chaos and uncertainty that is affecting me the most. I am not a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination. I can thrive quite well on a bit of chaos and disorder, but the uncertainty of the timeline might be pushing me over the edge. At work, even with the most chaotic of days, I know that there is a set time when it will end. I know that I work from this hour to that. With this renovation things are more up in the air, which wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t currently feel so trapped.

This is day two of having electricians in the house, which means my days off have been a complete waste of time. I hate wasting my time. I hate wasted time on my days off, at least time that I don’t waste of my own choosing. I need to be here, but there isn’t a lot that I can do. I could watch TV or read or surf the internet, but these are only amusing for so long. There is no point to doing housework, because the contents of my kitchen are spread across the other half of the house, along with an ever-present layer of dust from the removal of tiles, cupboards, and drywall. I can’t sit, and I’m sure the electricians must wonder why I am laying on the living room floor. I can’t make dinner, can’t even put too much effort into planning it, since I have no idea when I will have access to my kitchen. The stove is in the hall, and I couldn’t re-connect it if I wanted as it is gas, which means I still need to wait for my husband to connect it when he gets home.

While I can live quite comfortably with a bit of mess and disorder, I am hating the chaos right now. It is temporary. The end result will be worth this discomfort, but I feel like pulling my hair out.

So yeah, I am cranky. I even changed my Facebook profile picture to Oscar the Grouch this morning. It will pass eventually.

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