10607

I was logging in to post something, and I was entering my password, which includes "10607," our wedding date. This changed the entire feeling behind my post. Be thankful for what you got, Therese.

I went to the best sports doc in Philadelphia tonight, and he said I should not run the 20 miles this Saturday. The original title for this post was 12/20/08, because I have been dreading/excited about this date since I got my training schedule. He wants me to rest. I might get a Cortizone shot in my knee next week so I can do the marathon.

The most discouraging thing he said? "If you can't do 10 miles, you can't do 26.2." Excuse my French, but screw that. I'm doing it no matter what. I'm taking a break, a well-deserved one and coach-approved, and I'm running a freakin marathon in a few weeks. I don't care if my leg falls off.

It stinks. This isn't how I planned it. When do I get to rest on my laurels? But as my husband reminded me, this is part of my journey. I'm never, ever taking this journey again. Right now I feel a bit lost on my journey. But it will make the finish line (God willing I make it to the start) that much sweeter.

I'm not going to be down about this. Screw this. Again, excuse my French, but I wish I had a Size 10 shoe to throw at my doctor. We all came too far. We have to see this through.

My husband, who promised to take me out on a 2-mile run on Saturday, thinks I can do it, so I do also. God knows he's gotten through worse than an illiotibial band strain.