For the last seven weeks I've been combating a groin issue. Icing and stretching. Compressing and more icing. Graston and chiropractic adjustments. Hobbling for 100+ miles across Utah and Colorado.
I named my groin Gretchen, as one does. She became the butt of many jokes while I tried to douse my tears and frustrations during my MS Run the US segment.
Turns out this whole time it wasn't Gretchen at all. Sorry, girl. My bad.
I've had a fractured pelvis the entire time. There is a very clear crack in my pelvic bone. I BROKE MY PELVIS SOMEHOW.
I found this out Friday after an X-ray finally unearthed the problem in my privates. I subsequently, as I do, spent four hours in tears after that. I didn't want it to be a fracture. I wanted it to be a muscle problem. I don't know what I wanted it to be. But I definitely didn't want there to be a broken bone in my crotch at the start of a long summer in Bend.
Here's the thing about Bend: it's beautiful. Being a runner in Bend is paradise. I moved here five months ago and immediately drowned in the running community. Every weekend was full. Half my weekday mornings were spent with friends on a pre-dawn run.
Everything was running.
So I cried for all those reasons. Pity, mostly. Bend is lonely without half of what makes you who you are and everything else 2,000 miles away.
I don't know the outlook yet. I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon to get a better look at the X-rays and determine how long I have to handle my pelvis with care. Zero running. Nothing but healing. Two thumbs and one pelvis down.
There are totally 100 percent worse things. In fact, look at America. I'd rather have a broken pelvis than any of the fucked up things happening in our country literally as I type this blog post.
But dammit, do I really have to have a broken pelvis right now?
I feel super antsy and lost. I worry about the 2017 Boston Marathon, as if thinking ahead ten months makes any sense whatsoever. I've got plans for this pelvis, man. Dang.
Mostly I feel so... at odds about my MS Run the US experience.
Every day out there, as the entire concept of running got worse, I felt defeated. I felt like I was failing. I felt whiny. I felt like I was letting people down. I felt like a wimp. I felt like I should shut up because at least I don't have MS. I felt frustrated. I felt like I knew something was most certainly not okay with my body. I felt dumb. I felt like that one girl who couldn't cut it. Couldn't hang. Wasn't strong enough. Wasn't ready. Had to walk.
But damn. I HAD A BROKEN PELVIS.
I feel mad.
At nothing, really. Just mad. And now I'm mad that I have to spend an entire lonely summer without my outlet and my peace.
And now I'm depressed about it again.
LATHER, RINSE, REPEAT.
See you on the flip side, runners.