Starting Off on the Wrong Foot

So a couple of weeks ago I started my training for a little triathlon in late August. Being the type-A, overachiever that I am, I decided that the program wasn't tough enough, and that I was going to run more than suggested because I hate running & really wanted to do well. Ok, really I just didn't want to make a fool of myself. Well, I overdid it & re-aggravated an injury that I've had on & off for five years. It's nothing bad, but basically I have a lot of pain just walking. And can't wear cute shoes or flip flops.

First off, I was super irritated because exercise is one of the few activities that I can do on my own that I like and doesn't make me feel lonely. The other is shopping, and I had to cut myself off for awhile! That, and I kinda dig the Speedo/goggles/swim cap look for me- it's like a fun costume :) I like to think that Michael Phelps has nothing on me!

I was also very determined to finally do this triathlon which I've had on my to-do list for a long time. I had signed up for the event last year, and Dan made me my own training manual for my birthday with lots of inspirational quotes, etc. However, I dislocated my finger in May and couldn't grasp the bike handles or swim. And then Dan's cancer spread. So, since Dan died I have been really insistent on getting this event done, because I don't like to think that cancer prevented me from completing something.

In light of the sharp, hot-poker-like pain I had, I promptly stopped running, and added more swimming & cycling. And I made a trip to the podiatrist, got my self lined up with orthodics (sigh). And asked that the doctor set me up with physical therapy. Turns out that my problems are caused by overly (and apparently "freakishly") flexible feet. Go figure.

As I was in PT this morning stretching and getting sonograms on my feet, and then getting zapped with some pulsating machine, it dawned on me that I am definitely a little Dan-ish these days. Last year, I made excuses why I couldn't possible train for the triathlon, and just dropped it. And in the past, I just quit exercising when the injury reared its head. I may have seen a doctor, but certainly wouldn't have told her what I needed to happen, and then convince them to throw more therapy at me. This time around, stopping is not an option. And I know that this little physical annoyance isn't much, but it's kinda rare in life when we have an "aha" moment of how much we've grown and really learned something.... when we can pinpoint it.

So as I was getting my footsies zapped, I felt a little wiser today... a little more empowered. And certainly determined to get this done. Baby steps- literally!

I also thinks it appropriate that I was wearing green, which I don't often do.