The weirdness of not running.

Today is Day 41 of No Running. That's one day shy of 6 weeks without a run. Just hanging out, resting and obsessing about my bum hip.

One would think, if one were to think about such things, that a hip would heal after resting for 41 days. One might further think that said hip would feel wonderfully ready to run and that the body attached to that hip would be raring to go. For a run, that is.

One would be wrong.

You see, there is a weirdness to this whole not running thing. Rest, when entered into voluntarily (as an important part of a training program) and/or with the promise of something good at the end (like a baby after not running while pregnant), is manageable and almost always rejuvenating. It doesn't mess with your head the way injury rest does mostly, I imagine, because it is controlled. When you decide to do something -- in this case, rest -- you control it, it doesn't control you.

True. Very true.
Thanks, ilovetorun.org!

Injury rest is a total control freak.

Injury rest doesn't let the runner decide when to get back to running. That decision lies solely with the injured body part. If the injured body part isn't healed in a week, a month, two months . . . well, honey, you can forget about running.

And that lack of control is more or less the crux of the weirdness of not running.

I can't stand it. I can't stand thinking about my hip and whether or not it is healing on schedule. I can't stand feeling like I am missing out. I can't stand worrying that I might not be able to run the marathon in October because, after all, I am still not able to run.

I'm pretty good about shaking those thoughts out of my head and accepting that right now I can't run but I will be back, stronger than ever.

What ifs, however, have been known to creep in to my otherwise tough mind. What if I still have pain next week? What if this swelling that refuses to go away is something bad? What if the doctor was rushed when he saw me, misread the MRI and was wrong in his diagnosis -- and I'm doomed to never run again?

I reason with myself: Then you'll rest for another week. Then you'll find a new treatment and deal with the swelling and it will go away. Then you'll hunt down that crazy triathlete doctor of yours and kick him in the shin.

Yeah, see, more weirdness.

Not running is weird and I can't wait to stop being such a weirdo. With any luck I'll be a little less weird in one week. One week to test run day -- I'm counting down the days!!

Have a great weekend, everyone. I'll be resting (as usual).