I don’t like rest. Not because I am one of those cheerful, productive people who always have to be doing something, accomplishing something, or going somewhere. No, I don’t like rest because I am a lazy ass and, for me, “rest” just feels like the beginning of “quitting.” I hate to quit, but I’ve done it so much that it feels like a part of my basic personality structure.
So I went out for a run tonight and immediately felt a sharp pain in the right shin. My leg wasn’t bothering at all around the house today, so I am still hopeful that whatever this is is transient (because it was bothering me around the house yesterday). I turned around after those first few steps and came back home. I spent the evening constructing a cage with my backyard guinea pig cage to protect them from the neighborhood cats, who I think may have picked off a newborn sometime today or last night. I’ll post pictures later, it kind of looks like an Imperial Star Cruiser, but for guinea pigs.
After that was done I came in and iced my shin, straight ice, right on the leg — enough pussing around with that blue-ice-crap wrapped in a towel. Yesterday’s scheduled rest day has now turned into two, and with my procedure tomorrow I’m unlikely to run again until Saturday at the earliest, Sunday most likely. That’ll be 4 days off. That’s an awful lot. My general mood is not helped by the fact that in my depression over the lost run and the anxiety over tomorrow’s deal I ate three Pillsbury refrigerated biscuits, each containing 3999 calories.
I just gotta tell myself that it’s just a short rest, it’s necessary, turning back tonight was a wise choice – not quitting, and not running the next few days is inconvenient and sucky but comes at a good time. I just gotta tell myself that and have Tammy hide the chocolate and biscuits.