Other than some swelling yesterday evening and minor pain, pain last night and this morning, overall the leg is good. I found that dancing with the ladybugs was okay, as long as I don't pretend to be a ballerina and go on tippy toe. The leg does not like it. In fact, I have to make an extremely concerted and painful effort just to get completely up onto full "tippy toe." So I have stopped doing that and my leg is appearing to take a little bit of mercy on me.
This morning I ignored the imploring calls from my beautiful TT bike, begging me to "ride... just 10 miles... at an easy pace on the closed road... in sneakers... not even clipped in... it won't hurt your leg that badly...please..." That bike really knows how to tug at my heart strings. It was soooo tempting it almost brought tears to my eyes.
But, remaining strong with my doctor's words in mind (the ones where she told me she didn't want me to get to March and still be hurt), I got into the car with my buoy and headed to the pool for a swim. You know you miss cycling when you go to re-stock the pantry with V-8 cans and you have to stop a moment and linger with your bike, gently stroking its front tire as you pass.
Aerodite and I spent a lot of time together in the past months and now she sits there, sad and waiting. I rather feel the same way. I miss my rides in the early morning, glimpses of deer and other wildlife as the sun rises; wind in my helmet (I'd say hair but it's really too short to do more than flap and make me look like I have dog ears in the wind); just me and the closed road loop.
These days I'm not just missing the bike and the mileage, I'm missing my run too. And it seems like every time I turn around running is taunting me. My off season was supposed to be about the run - getting faster, stronger, better. Now my Brooks glare at me when I walk by because I'm not putting them on. I haven't had a moisture wicking sock (or any other sock for that matter) on in weeks. My email sends me missives "Improve Your Running By Improving Your Technique." I am getting a free trial of Runner's World out of the blue. Yes, Tri-gods, I know. I need to run. My spirit is willing, but you'll have to take it up with my calf/leg/knee/arch... or even better, the doctor's office since my appointment isn't until Tuesday. (I tell myself that other people need those appointments more than I do. I am also fully prepared to hear that there's nothing wrong with me, I pulled something and it's on the mend, and I can go back to full scale working out. At this point it will have been 3 1/2 weeks since this pain began. It's entirely possible. RIGHT? Just nod and smile.)
SO, me and my buoy headed up the avenue for a swim at the LA Fitness (or as Mr. Darcy likes to call it "La Fitness"). I did my best to just stick to the buoy, but I cheated. Not badly mind you, but just a little. Only 400m worth of kicking while swimming. I thought about Coach and another friend who are racing IMFL this weekend and should both already be in Panama City. I'd love to be with them to cheer them on and most of all to see them cross that finish line, break that tape, and hear them announced as Ironmen. I wondered what that must feel like, and after drinking the Cool-aid and liking it terribly with my first 70.3, know that I want to experience it. Now I just have to figure out how old the girls need to be before they can handle Mom being gone on 100 mile bike rides and crazy long runs (let alone getting Mr. Darcy on board for that one). At this point, I'm thinking 10 years from now... so around 44 (me, 13 for them)? Ugh. That seems like an eternity from now. We'll just have to see how it goes.
I also thought about my Aunt who had a heart attack the day before yesterday, is still in the hospital, and yet is refusing to let her doctor do a dye study and catheterization. Um, Hi. Let's not invited heart attack #2 to come over to play. From what my Dad told me, it sounds like she's afraid to find out she needs bypass surgery. Not like it's a fun thing to do, but I think I'd be too afraid not to find out I need bypass surgery. I'd rather take my chances with surgery than letting another heart attack pay a visit. Sigh.
I thought about how truly lucky we are. Mr. Darcy's paycut wasn't anywhere as bad as we thought it would be, and while we'll need to trim the budget a little it won't be nearly as hard as we thought. There's a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving, and not just on the money front. We're happy, pretty healthy aside from genetic stuff that you have to live with and a silly bum leg, and we're alive and together. Really, that's what it's all about.
And then, before I knew it, my 1600m was over and it was off to change and head out to work. Another morning well spent in the pool.