Free Manure
by marathonmama | Feb 08, 2010 | 382 views
Note: I’m writing this post with an ice pack on my bare inner thigh, so don’t expect smiles and rainbows, people. More like expletives and martyrdom.
Saturday was good. I drove to Boston for a beautiful, gentle run on the water, then I drove home. In my aged, yet functional, car. Then it all went to hell. Sunday I woke up to someone stabbing the living shit out of my inner thigh. Some invisible bastard who preys on the adductors of nice runners who dare to enjoy a beautiful, gentle run on the water in Boston.
My Sunday long run was off. I can skip a short run without too much angst. Skipping a long run is bad news.
I went to my gym, which might as well be a circle of hell customized to foster my boredom. I pay money to suffer there. The basement gym with no windows and TVs set on FOX News, which I now know chooses to advertise neocon agendas and mail-order catheters from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Sundays, both of them full of piss (sorry, couldn’t resist that one).
Instrument of Cruel and Unusual Punishment
For two F#CKING hours, I stayed on that Arc Trainer doing an interval workout that Jack said would approximate running and the level of expenditure of a long run. I tried to break up the hours with a few miles at half-marathon pace on the treadmill. But the invisible stabbing schmuck found me, turned the knife, and I crawled back to the Arc.
The biggest insult came when a fellow runner showed up to use the treadmill, a woman who introduced herself to me the other day as “The one who is always running,” to which I smiled and bit my tongue from some wiseass remark because I was full of sweetness and light that day. Sunday she hammered on the treadmill while I was full of hatred and darkness. The %^&(%^*% one who is always running.
To make matters worse, it didn’t occur to me to bring Gu or Nuun for this workout because I wasn’t running, so by 1 p.m,. I was desperate to be electrolit and fueled and nearly passed out over the rail of that wretched machine. I bid adieu to the scene that I pay to use: FOX and the catheters and the one who is always running and drove home in my functional car.
Later I drove my functional car, the one I paid 4 figures to fix last week, to the grocery store. The functional car died in the parking lot and I had to have it towed to the mechanic. $1000 poorer and sans car. Mother f#cker.
So welcome to Monday. Ice pack on that most sensitive crease where the thigh meets the pelvis. Subaru in the shop. No running and no car. Both due to repetitive use injuries.
This shit stinks.
There’s this sign at a farm in my oppressive, white-washed pastoral Stepford Westford that I drive by a lot.
Free Manure
Turn Right
The sign always makes me laugh: it’s shit, but hey, it’s free! Today I think I might like an order of free manure. If you’re gonna have to deal with shit, it might as well be free. A load of shit I don’t have to pay for sounds delightful, in fact. I’d drive my station wagon over to shovel in a supply of free shit this afternoon if I could.
Damn, I miss Saturday when everything worked.
Note: I’ll be back to sweetness and light next time, lest you think I’m a bitter, resentful bitch. (I am a bitter, resentful bitch, but I wouldn’t want you think that.)
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February 8th, 2010 on 1:17 pm
I hope that your day gets better!
February 8th, 2010 on 1:42 pm
Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,
Everything that’s wonderful is what I feel when we’re together,
Brighter than a lucky penny,
When you’re near the rain cloud disappears, dear,
And I feel so fine just to know that you are mine.
Disregard the “we’re together” of the “you are mine” crap. I’m not that creepy……yet.
February 8th, 2010 on 1:59 pm
Sounds like an awful day…no long run and a broken down car. Blah. Hope tomorrow is better.
February 8th, 2010 on 2:10 pm
Oh, I would be in a similar mood given the situation. Skipping long runs IS HARD! Injuries seem to occur (at least for me) when training is going super and I am getting faster. It’s like a reminder, this is too good to last. Honestly, I think I am pushing my fate every single day I go out and run these days, mostly because I am completely ignoring my training plan. So wait for a similar post from you (minus the great writing). Now, seriously, feel better, OK?
February 8th, 2010 on 2:31 pm
I just wish you didn’t sugarcoat things all the time.
I mean, say what you feel once in a while!
February 8th, 2010 on 3:30 pm
Bitter, resentful bitch makes for some enjoyable reading! If things don’t get better, don’t wait until they do; come on back and regale us with more resentful bitching, please.
Seriously, take care, heal up and hair over. I live vicariously through your long runs.
February 8th, 2010 on 11:48 pm
You have the guts to say how it really is…I’ve been living this reality for FOUR LOUSY @#*(&^$^@ MONTHS NOW and it SUCKS. So, thank you for allowing me to vent vicariously through your post.
I truly, fervently hope that you will be better really soon and so will your car.
February 8th, 2010 on 11:53 pm
Sorry about the horrid day. I would have been temped to pitch Skittles at the “*#$# who is always running” while she was on the treadmill. Then again…I am always a little evil like that. : )
I hope your thigh gets better soon.
February 8th, 2010 on 11:55 pm
thank you for being real. i like to read blogs where people are not afraid to say what they feel. have a good night…or at least, try.
February 9th, 2010 on 12:02 pm
Hey, be proud to be a bitter, resentful bitch. I know I am.
Hope things get better for you very soon, fellow Xtina.
February 10th, 2010 on 12:53 am
At least you can make us laugh in the midst of your misery. Sorry about the injury. If it makes you feel better, my SUBARU broke down at the last Myrtle Beach marathon (luckily after packet pick-up) and had to have a new engine put in it…out of state. Rest up! You’ll be up in no time.
February 12th, 2010 on 3:11 pm
Then again – what doesn’t kill us,makes us stronger. Even if that old cliche is a bag of manure, it’s worth repeating between the good expletives
Once again – keep on keepin’ on!!!!!