I’ve been avoiding this post. Not just writing it, but thinking about it. I kept hoping that if I just ignored the situation, a miracle would appear before me. But, alas, that is not how life works. Or at least not when it comes to running.
My Western States dreams are over. I sent Greg Soderland, the RD, an e-mail last night. Sigh. As stupid as it sounds, because I know it is just a race, I felt like such a failure when I hit “Send”. I know I’m just feeling sorry for myself, but I’ve been training for this race all year, and in my mental “checks and balance” sheet, that should mean that I should get to go (can you see me lying on the floor, kicking and screaming like a four year-old right now?). But my foot had other ideas. While I haven’t run on it for four weeks, it is still not completely healed. My doc finally had a “come to Jesus” with me, and said, “You will not make it through 100 miles on that foot without permanently injuring it.” Oh.
So there it is. Thank you for reading all the obsessive training posts, even though there was no race at the end of the road. I hope I can do you proud and start obsessing about something new soon. Like yard darning. Or sock monkeys. Or David Beckham. Oooooh!