I took a nearly 200 mile drive to see my BEST friend, Liz in Missouri a couple weeks ago. We hadn’t seen each other in over a year and it was time to exchange Christmas and birthday gifts. It was exactly the renewal I needed heading into a school year starting off as no other ever has. We ate at my favorite BBQ place there, I got to hang out with her pets, and we went to a climbing gym.
I’d never really gotten to climb before. I’d tried and didn’t make it up the wall beyond my own height. This time, I tried out different walls and I even went up more than once if I couldn’t figure out something on the first try. The only thing I didn’t do was repel down. I climbed down hanging on for dear life even though I was connected to a cable.
Liz took this pic of me. At first I was like “I look fat,” to which she replied, “I figured you’d say that, so I’m showing you instead of posting it.” I posted it myself after realizing that there’s a lot of muscle showing there and the photo was taken in the spirit of my friend being proud of me. I actually did something I didn’t think I could.
I got back home and had to step back from working out of a few days because I wasn’t feeling great. Once I felt better, I had my long run on the weekend and felt like I was run over by a bus for skipping a key long run the weekend I spent with Liz, but was proud to finish 15k. The following week, I felt like I was doing really well in the workouts and was able to do the workout “as prescribed” or “Rx” most days, which was a big deal to me. I ran on the weekend and tried really hard to beat the previous 15k time, but I couldn’t bring my speed up. The run itself went by fast, but my pace didn’t.
I posted to my social media that I was disappointed in my time and that it hurt my ego. I later admitted that my complaining was premature and that I should have just been happy to have completed the run. I meant it. I’m being hard on myself because I wanted so badly to get a personal record at the half marathon I’d originally signed up to run in October that has been canceled already.
Monday, I tried my best at the gym to do the workout as Rx. I believed I could when I got to the round I was most concerned about. Then, I dropped a 95 pound loaded barbell from almost overhead behind my back while trying to jerk it overhead to squat. I got zero reps in because I couldn’t do it. Ouch. My feelings. Tuesday, I again tried by best. There were 100 double unders with a jump rope, which I was excited about because I’d been doing so well with that. Nope. I couldn’t string them together to save my life. I whipped the hell out of myself with the rope. Then, the workout had toes to bar, a pull up bar movement where you hinge and touch your toes to the bar you’re hanging from. I attempted to do a similar movement with knee raises and couldn’t. I had to scale down even more by lying on the floor and raising my toes to the post behind me. I completed the workout in a reasonable amount of time, but not the way I wanted to. Wednesday was more of the same and I again dropped a 95 pound load from eye level.
Yesterday, still Wednesday, I had a rough mental health day. I spent a lot of time with tears in my eyes and I couldn’t control it. I didn’t want to live anymore, but I didn’t want to take my own life. I mentioned that I wanted to cry out for help, but I didn’t want to come off as negative. I just felt like at my age, I should be great at something and I’m not. I don’t have a career, I’m not a great wife or mom, I’m mediocre at everything and there isn’t really time for me to be great at anything. I wound up napping for a couple hours, skipping lunch because I wasn’t hungry, and snapping at people I probably shouldn’t have that had no idea I was struggling.
I received so much support and encouragement despite nobody knowing I was struggling. I appreciated it and it made me feel good. I also felt guilty for feeling so bad knowing that I had so many good thing and people surrounding me.
Today, I called my dr and asked if it was time to increase my meds and await a call about that. It wasn’t all stemmed from my athletic challenges this week. This situation we’re all going through is tough. The lives we were accustomed to are long gone and there was no time to prepare or mourn that. I went on for too long being “okay” with it until I got sick, had to isolate, and found out I didn’t have the virus. The emotional damage might amplify as the sunshine starts to wane and we’re living in cold months. I want to be ready.
I have a little over a month until the half marathon. I want to, but don’t expect to have a new personal record at the finish.
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Jenn's Journey 