I haven’t written in nearly a month. I was on vacation. I was out of town for work. Well…life happens. Today I did run #8. I didn’t post about run #5, #6, or #7. There wasn’t much to blog about so I’ll leave it that. I feel like I’m reaching turtle status of a runner.

This picture was at the end of my run but captures my emotions now…even before I started.

I started off today not feeling my best emotionally. It has been quite a week. Bonus son is fighting for his life. A friend’s dad passed. My bff’s husband is in hospital. The tragic mass shooting in my hometown took the life of a childhood friend. Life sucks at times. I shouldn’t complain…I’m healthy and alive….except for my damn hip.

I have been battling back and forth with my doctor on hip replacement, but I have finally accepted. The wheels are in motion. Before end of year I’ll be a bionic woman. Everyone tells me I’ll feel so much better. I’m not denying that, but they are not me. My doctor wouldn’t look me in the eyes when he said, “You’re only 49.”

I know…I just TURNED 49.

Then he said, “This will end your running.”

I know…that’s why I’m here. The pain far outweighs the running. I never thought I would admit it. I knew in my head it did, but my heart had to be ready. The pain is constant, even when I do nothing at all. I guess I should proceed for my sanity. I write this blog through tears. I know it’s best, but it’s still difficult.

This played in my head during my whole run. I’m so aware of everything now. Just a mile into the run, my toes were going numb. I compensate the pain in my hip so much that I’m overly careful in how I land so I gingerly push off each step. I play through all the meals I’m going to prepare in advance. I want to make things around me as easy as I can. Meal prep will be key. Pop in microwave and voila..dinner is served. I’ll be doing some extreme cooking leading up to it.

I passed a fellow runner who ran my speed. We were at the same pace, but we were both out there doing it. Through the different ins and outs of the run, we passed each other three times. When I knew I was heading home, I told him to have a good day. He was very polite. Most runners share that kindness.

I didn’t go as far today. I only wogged 2.92. Seriously…do you think I could have added 0.08 more? NO…I could not. I was done. My body just was done. I felt like I barely made it into the house before I crashed on the floor. Like the obsessive numbers person I have, I clocked my time.

I get settled back into my day and look at my baby girl. It’s National Dog Day, by the way. She has the life. No matter how rough of a run I have, she always gives me kisses as if I had the best run ever. I’m glad I’m her hero.

Until next time, peace out, trouts!