Let me start by saying DO NOT TELL ME I AM TOO OLD! I will swear if you do, I promise you that. I am not too old for anything unless I think I am and I dont, think I am that is.
So blah, bummer, shit, bahwooey.....I have pulled a calf muscle and cannot run for at least one week (that is what I promised the physio anyways).
Now my weekend consisted of the following:
Friday - one hour bootcamp circuit including a fifteen flight stair run down and up
Saturday - one hour cardio boxing which involved plenty of running and a whole heap of boxing (and if you were there then a whole heap and liberal use of the term 'fuck' until my anger was out of my system) followed by a 68minute 5k run from hell down and up a mountain with (between two 920 squats and 920 pushups (yes I have pecks!)and the running was awesome until the last 1k which felt vertical!!!!
Sunday - one 1.5 hour bootcamp with some running. And somewhere in that running I pulled a calf muscle. I dont know why, I was doing great, I was warm if not a bit tired and sore from the days preceeding. I dont know why at all. I kept going of course, not running but all the rest and just kept moving because I could and I wanted to and I was not too old to do that. Thanks to Susie for taking care of me! And then a small hobbly walk around an 18 hole mini putt putt with my children.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is living. This is the life I have now and this is the life I want. So bloody what if I turn 46 next month. I dont jump out of planes, I dont drive my car fast, I dont scuba dive or motor bike ride. I do not face death! I just love to exercise.
So imagine what it is like to be told you are too old. And then imagine what it is like to be on a physio's table being told you cannot run. And I beg him for how long, when can I do it again and then I wonder, who the hell is this person nearly in tears because she cannot run. Screw being fat, screw loosing weight, screw the calories to be burnt, who gives a shit about any of that when you are bing told you are too old by your friends and you cannot run by a physio.
Who am I? Who is this person? Where did she come from?
No, crying just thinking about taking a week off. He said cycle but I hate cycling, it is not the same of the rythyms of my feet as they hit the ground, long strides, short strides, quick strides, slow strides, strides to the music, strides to the pavement, rythmic, calming, centering, peace. I cannot imagine a week without running. I cannot imagine a life without running. No wonder my heart broke for my dog when I was told she could no longer run. It was me, my heart broke because I cannot live without running.
Who the bloody hell am I?