I just want to say "Gracias" to Luanne for her comments on my last post. Just one question, Lu... What?

Here's a little known to some, and all too well known to others, fact about me: I only have two speeds. Maximum, and Sleeping. Today is Saturday, and I was out dancing last night until 1 am, yet I've been up since 7:30. Seriously, what the fuzzy fuck?

I bring this up because I'm going through some crappy life issues. I'm not gonna get into the bigger ones, wherein I realize that I'm in the VAST minority in this and it's effecting my relationships in dramatic ways I never acknowledged, but the smaller ways that have only to do with me. Because the smaller issues are easier to see, and the verdict is out on the big stuff.

That last paragraph gave me a nose bleed.

I have bursitis (give me a second, this isn't as random as it seems). See, I started running in the mornings as few months ago. The elliptical machine that I had in my house broke, and rather than not work out six maniacal days a week until we can get a new one, I figured I would start running. It's good for you, cheap, and I can do it whenever I have time.

One glitch.

I SUCKED at it.

You might assume that running is one of the most natural things we do as humans, how can anyone be bad at it? I dare you to try. Go on, I'll wait....... SEE!! It's HARD! I was busting my ass on that elliptical a LOT, that thing was no clothes hanger. I got outside to run and three nanoseconds later I wanted to DIE! If there's one thing I'm TRULY terrible at, it's being bad at something. Rather than saying screw this, my body hates it, I decide "Oh NO you DIDN'T" and started calling every runner I could for tips on how to improve. I decided I would run a 5K this summer. Eventually, my maximum speed mania decided that a marathon was in my future. Ohio, to be honest, the only reason I wanted to run a marathon is cause I found out that there's one in Disney, but that's not the point. The point is, my body immediately rebelled. Within a few weeks my three days a week running went up to six days, and soon after my hips, knees, and ankles staged a military coup. I couldn't even walk. So I tapped my personal trainer friend, Bacon, to find out why. His advice: Go buy real running shoes, and slow the hell down, Crazy Lady. I did everything he said (mostly, he told me I could only run for 15 minutes, and after two weeks he let me up it to 18... after that I sort of took it upon myself to up it to 20... and then 22... he threatened to quit, but I think he's bluffing) and everything was going well. On the weekends I'd run my stoopid, lame ass 22 minutes, and then hit the stair master for half an hour because it's less stress on the joints.

Until three and a half weeks ago. I knew something felt wrong in my left hip, but I ignored it and ran. All that day I thought I'd strained my lower back. When I got home, I took some ibuprophen and put on a heating pad. The next morning I took the day off running.... NOT. I got up at 5, took four ibuprophen, and went running at 6:30 cause I felt better... until about 15 minutes into my 22 minute run. And I've been in physical therapy ever since.

And do you know, friends and neighbors, what I'm really upset about? Can you guess? Can you pin the crazy on the Jessica?? I'm upset that I was out of workout commission for two and a half weeks. I'm depressed and angry at my body for it's betrayal, as though it's this separate person from me who just decided to take the lazy way out. The only thing keeping me from pushing myself too hard is that I don't want to be hobbled on our cruise, and I want to get back to training to run the 5K asap. But I'm not patient, and I'm certainly not forgiving of my own weaknesses, and it's exhausting to be me.

Everyone I know that DOESN'T work out has said, "See? Running is BAD for you, your body is telling you to stop." And it just makes me want to push through even more. But my bitch of a body is caving left and right, and it makes me mad.

So that's where I'm at. Not able to work out for the month before I go on a cruise that will have me in a bathing suit for two weeks, and my freak out level is insurmountable. I found out last weekend that there's a running track on the upper deck of the ship. This news almost killed me.

Don't worry, we'll have fun. I'll be drunk a good portion of the trip, and keep in mind, EVERYthing I do is at maximum speed. Including having fun.