x-rays, bad news, and (not so) humerus puns.

so, that pain that I was mentioning last month? well, it never really went away. and as of today, it has officially been declared as a stress fracture.

I've suspected that for a while, but wanted to believe otherwise. If wishful thinking worked, I suppose we'd all be a lot happier. I'm trying to stay positive about this, but I went all wibbly in the office this morning and started crying as soon as the doctor left.

The prognosis? No running for six weeks, and crutches.

It's really only the beginning of the winter track season, and I'm frustrated that I'm missing out on it. I'm embarrassed that I'm going to be the kid blundering around on crutches for the next month, and I'm disheartened by the number of stairs that there are in my house and at my school. I can't really move with the crutches very well at all, and the stairs in my house are considerably more difficult to maneuver up and down than those at the physical therapy office where I got crutches 101.

I'm allowed to do no-impact exercise, and while I'm glad that I can stay in relative shape for the spring track season, it means that I'm going to be spending my time in the weight room, and not at the track with the rest of the team.

Maybe I'll start stress knitting again. who knows, maybe crutch cosies will become tres chic. (after all, once people see that someone so cool and fashionable has stress fractures, they'll all want them.) Stress knitting will take on a whole new meaning. (geddit? stress fractures? stress knitting? my leg and sense of humor are both suffering.)

please do your best to bear with me while I deal with this, I'm liable to go wibbly on you and I hope that you don't judge me to harshly if I do.

ouchies.

our aversion to the most minor pains is perplexing. popping little white asprin and blue drug store pain relievers at the exact times that are laid out by the bottle- two pills every eight hours, or some variation thereon, so that we don't have to feel anything at all.

sometimes I subscribe to it. I won't lie- I don't like feeling discomfort any more than the average person and I have an unbelievably low tolerance for pain. and sometimes it's necessary- I'm in no means trying to argue that relief from pain is bad.

but sometimes I think that feeling the hurt might be good. because I'm too young to hurt in any real way, and sometimes the dull throbbing helps to anchor me. feeling the aches and the strains and hearing the hollow echos of cracking joints is a constant reminder of something. I don't know what- but it's something and isn't that enough? It's like always being aware of a dedication to something: I hurt because I run, and I run because I love it.

I thought that this would become more eloquent as I wrote it, but it ended into an incoherent mess. (as per usual). I've got shin splints in my right leg and I'm acutely aware of that fact every time I try to move, but I've also got the fastest times that I've ever run. I've never run myself this hard before, and I'm happy with how things are going.

QUESTION

does my enjoyment of running (especially hard workouts and long runs) make me a strong and dedicated runner, or a masochist?

just a question for all of you. it has been bouncing around in my head for the past few days and I want to hear your answers.

A bientot!

(The title should have a couple of fancy accents, but it doesn't. I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me.)

It's the night before I leave, and I am so excited!
(And I'm packed! c'est un miracle!)
And still, despite my claims of being prepared, I'm going to inevitably find myself scrambling around the house tomorrow morning in attempt to find that one thing that I really really really need. (only to later realize that it was in the bottom of my suitcase the entire time.)

And, here is that brief point in this post where I completely veer off topic and tell you something else that you didn't really want to know.

Some mornings, you wake up and everything in the world is shiny and good and the birds sing to you as you stretch your arms to the ceiling and get dressed in something comfy. This morning, I woke up and it was cold. It was cold and dark. I got myself into my clothing for the day, but trust me when I say that it was not particularly comfortable. I ate a quick breakfast and went to the school fields with a sense of dread growing in my stomach. Close to an hour later, we arrived at the meet. I was scheduled to run in the first event of the day, the JV mile. The next hour passed slowly. Two warm up runs and dynamic stretching and changing into spikes occupied the time. my other teammate and I got to the starting line at the second call. We waited for a couple of minutes until we were given the signal to take off our warm ups. The cold was bitter and biting and I struggled to remove my sweatpants. (I struggle with a lot of things.) Too soon, we were on the line and ready and going. Six minutes and ten seconds later, it was over. Six minutes, ten seconds, and two places after the first finisher. Some mornings, you wake up and it is dark and cold. Two hours and a mile later, you realize that it's perfect running weather. I guess my first meet of the season didn't go so poorly after all.

... and now back to the topic of PARIS!

I've got a huge list of places and things that I want to see, but I'll wait until I get back to tell you about that. (how anti-climactic would the posts about what I did be if I had already told you what I was planning on doing?)

In the event that you feel overcome with sadness due to your inability to communicate with me, here is a little something to remind you of my wonderfully likable personality and girlish charm and the fact that I actually don't have either of the previously mentioned traits.



So, here is my au revoir! But have no fear, we'll see each other again soon. But for now, a bientot! Time for me to spend le printemps en Paris! :)

today:

there was a kid walking around in a banana costume. he stood next to me when we were at the crosswalk this morning. somebody asked him why he was a banana.

His reply?
"It's Wednesday."*

I love my school.
--

One of my friends asked me to send her creative writing for the literary magazine that our school publishes. I sent her this:

CREATIVE:

there once was a frog

who lived in a bog

and hopped onto a log.

he soon met a dog.

and the frog

and the dog

on the log

in the bog

were attacked by a hog

who ate them all.

the end.

I really hope she likes it.
--

Sprained my ankle in cross country today. I was only a block or two from school.
The boys team ran past where I was sitting. it was embarrassing.

Limping around makes me feel pathetic, so I try to walk normally. It hurts, and then I feel more pathetic.

feeling pathetic is pathetic.

-----------
*consider this the quote of the week. I'll put it in a nicer format:

"It's Wednesday."
-Freshman dressed like a banana

Spring Track: Over

Spring track season is over.
(AND WHAT A SEASON IT WAS!)

it was long: practices, workouts, days, weeks, bus-rides,
suffering from: shin splints, sore muscles, runners mentality,
enjoying every second of: runners mentality, bus-rides with friends, winning league championships!

The season just seemed to run past me. In brightly colored spandex short-shorts. (Ah, running, how I love thee.)

I can't believe it's already over.

Things I did this season: I ran. A lot. I bonded with my team. I bonded with my friends. I got big sister (on the team). I ran the 400 m. I saw friends I never see. I learned to appreciate when air enters and exits my lungs at a regular tempo. I learned to push myself to my limits every time I raced. I learned to push myself past my previous limits every time I raced. I learned to love track.

I can't imagine going through this season in any other sport. (Mainly because I'm awful at every sport with a ball.)

I am so proud of my friends for joining Track, (Ehem, joining after I threatened them into it.) and sticking with it. *J, because I know you're reading this, I'm beyond proud of you.* Every one of you always impressed me during the meets.

Dear track, THANK YOU!

P.s. I love you, my darling Track, but I think that you should know that I'm going to be disloyal to you for the next several weeks. I'm planning on drinking caffeinated sodas, eating fatty foodstuffs, and spending time NOT running. (Hey, it's been three months, give me a break!)

With Love,
Pi