|Not the actual wall I hit.|
I hurt. My leg freaking hurts. It's no ones fault but my own. This stupid half marathon. Actually, I can't even blame it. I didn't randomly get signed up. I signed up on purpose. But as I hobbled through my twelve miles yesterday I realized that this isn't my dream. It's my friend's dream. I just made it my goal. 'Cause that's what I do. Obsess, get competitive and set goals. There are worse things in life than a goal now and then isn't there?
Either way, this week has been more painful than pain free. I hate pain. I'm a wimp. It's annoying. I'm sure Mr. P was glad he was out of town this weekend. I'm glad he was out of town too, for his sake. Because even though I can't navigate the stairs nicely, I'd be able to lash out at him somehow. I have that kind of skill.
My biggest fear is that I won't be able to run my dogs in our upcoming competitions. Fear makes me angry. Angry at myself for putting me in this situation. If it was a question of my dog's health, I wouldn't even think twice and would pull in a heart beat. Their well being is more important than any race or competition. Hands down. Why is it that a different set of rules applies to myself?
I'm sure I'm not the only person that has had this happen. What do you do when you hit a wall?