Somehow it is March 31st. Where did March go? Why is April almost here? I do not understand. I shudder to think that my run analysis was so long ago. At the time, I was told that I would be good to run a trail half marathon the first weekend of December. Oh how the Universe likes to take all those plans, dump them down the drain, and then run away laughing like a toddler. I see you, Universe. I see you.

So, the race I was contemplating participating in the previous weekend. It was part of a series put on by EX2 Adventures, the Spring Backyard Burn. I have been wanting to run one of their races for a couple of years now but I have never been healthy enough to do so. I registered for the 5.6 mile option at Laurel Hill Park a few months ago, confident in both my PT and my progress in treatment. Don't get me wrong, I love my PT. She's amazing and she has thrown the kitchen sink at my body in hopes of getting this figured out. My body just continues to have other plans.

I spoke to my PT and the needle guy early in the week about how, if at all, I should participate in the race. I'm pretty sure I heard the laughter as soon as they opened my email. Their obvious answer was don't do it. The secondary, "you're a pig-headed runner who would try to race anyways" answer was to enjoy a brisk walk on a Sunday morning and stop if it hurts. Get my first DNF. For once in my life, I wanted to really think things over and make the decision that was best for me in the long term. If possible, I was even more hypersensitive to my body all week. On Saturday night I sat down and journaled about it, threw it up to the Universe, and went to sleep.

When I woke up race morning, I felt really peaceful. I knew I wasn't going to run, walk, skip, or crawl. To avoid any last minute change of heart, I threw on jeans and a long-sleeve t shirt so that I was not dressed in anything remotely appropriate for running. My job that morning was to support MS as he ran the course and spectate my broken heart out.  Although I knew it was the right call, I will be honest and say it was still hard to be there in a non-running capacity (plus, it was windy and bitter cold). I did my own thing at the gym later in the day and that was that.

Six months ago I would have run that race. No doubt, I would have and ended up in worse shape for it. The only difference I can see now is that I have bigger goals set for this year. More important races, running camps, and fitness challenges, all of which matter so much more to me. I want to be as healthy as I can be and if that means going batshit crazy resting the lower half of my body, so be it. I have an appointment tomorrow morning with what I hope is the last doctor I will have to see. I'll hold off on the details for now, but I hope to have this resolved once and for all. Even if it isn't what I want to hear, at this point I just want to know. I'm done with the doctors and therapies and the uncertainty. I'm going in with a list of questions and I plan to leave with answers and an action plan.

The pool at my gym is starting to feel too much like home these days and I would like that to stop as soon as possible. My running shoes miss me. My favorite trails miss me. No seriously, I can feel it. They do. I miss them too. Hopefully we'll be reunited soon.