Honesty

No amount of denial is going to change the fact that I am injured again. I can't stop my thoughts from racing ahead; to thinking I won't be able to run the marathon in May 2014. My first marathon. Symbolic of the mental and physical strength I have gained through running and marking the year anniversary of my uncle's suicide.

I keep thinking that if I'm going to train properly, I need six months. That means I need to start soon. So I push myself before I'm ready. I increased my mileage with both kids in the jogging stroller pushing over 60 lbs for four and five miles. And then I ran 10 miles on my long run day. Over wet and uneven trails. Of course I look back and call myself an idiot. But I was feeling strong. Wanted to challenge myself.

Now with a hip so tight I can barely bend sideways to an angle of 15 degrees, I'm telling myself I don't need physio again. I've just started back at work. Where will I find the time? So I rest for a week and then try an easy 3 miler only to have my hip seize up again.

Trying hard to fight the black mood which has slowly surfaced over three weeks of inconsistent exercise and a change in routine, my thoughts keep catastrophizing: thinking that if this doesn't get better right now, I won't be able to honor John's memory the way that feels most poignant to me.

John, who agonizingly went missing only to be found dead three days later. In the woods. After taking his own life. Alone. Found by a stranger walking her dog.

I have felt alone. I have felt that low. I run so I don't feel that way. But I can't run right now and that is what I find terrifying.