Wallowing in despair

I’m skipping this week’s Friday Friend feature, not because I’ve run out of friends’ blogs to promote, but because I’ve been full of angst and despair. So, pardon me while I complain for a few bullet points. I promise to end this blog post on a cheery note.

  • In 36 hours, 12,000 people will be running the Portland Marathon. I, runner #2381, will not be there. My t-shirt, tree seedling and all sorts of other fun things are waiting for me, but a certain stress fracture in my leg ended all of that. I’ve watched my biggest goals for the year crumble to dust. It’s hard, because now I’m watching all the tweets and Facebook posts and blogs from people who are so excited to run on 10/10/10. I was one of them. The running nerd in me is crying.
  • My neck is mad at me. The last time it did this was six months ago, and it knocked me out completely for four agonizing days. I lost six days of running in what was supposed to be one of my highest training weeks leading up to a marathon. My big May race subsequently suffered because of it. At least this time I can function, but I think it’s going to cramp my weekend plans.
  • Writing is a struggle. A story idea finally started coming together and I was actually writing, but it’s not easy. I stalled yesterday, and today I’ve made absolutely no progress. Perhaps my waves of optimism and self-doubt cancel each other.
  • My quest to start a new life in a new place is going too slowly for my liking. I want to be there NOW. I want the move to happen NOW. I hate being in limbo.
  • As a direct result of the previous item, and the running injury, I can’t book plane tickets and make plans for Christmas and New Years yet. I’m anxious to get things squared away while I can still find reasonable airfare rates, but I have to prioritize things. Vacation, even if it does include seeing immediate family members, cannot be my top priority right now.

OK, no more wallowing (for today). I said I would end this blog post on a good note, and I will. Since I probably shouldn’t tell my new favorite joke (don’t want to offend anyone), I will instead post this photo and say, “Aww, I was a cute baby.”

Flat-footed and reading a book. Yep, that sums me up.

4 Responses to Wallowing in despair

  1. I feel your pain, I do. I think it’s hard for non-runners to “get” this feeling we get hen we aren’t part of the festivities, it’s a though we are at home while the party goes on in the house across the street. You hear the music, hear the laughing but aren’t there.
    The runner nerd in you is – more than that, it is your drive to overcome and when that drive meets something out of your control, it’s the worst thing in the world. Runners are used to overcoming barriers, distances, limitations, and sometimes it helps to know this is just another one. I’m rooting for ya!

  2. You will overcome this, just as you have overcome so much before. I am so excited for your new beginning, even if selfishly I would like to keep you close by. Oh and yes, you were a very cute baby… flat feet and all.

  3. Oh, Layla, what a bummer day you had. Cheer up. I’ll bet by the time I post this comment (2 days later), something good will have happened. If not, it is about to. Keep the faith.

  4. Hey L!
    Wow! I’m thinking that a lot has happened since we last spoke?
    E-mail me if you get a chance and let’s ketchup.