Monday, July 2, 2012

Mind Games

I finally uploaded the rest of the activities from my Garmin watch today. I took it to the barn with me the two times I rode last week to make sure I didn't overdo it. But there were three activities on there. The third was my last run. You can see where I almost lost it--around 25:00 my pace really dropped (I didn't start walking until the 27-minute mark). It makes me cringe right now to think of the things I've done to my body.


I learned that 15 minutes of trotting is about 1.6 miles...who knew?
I would never have imagined running a 7:06-minute mile with a broken pelvis. Then again, I would never have thought I'd make it five miles on two fractured heels. It's amazing what you can do when you don't know what's wrong.


I've come to realize that so much of life is a mental game. I remember when my plantar fasciitis started getting better, I had just started to hope that maybe I had the wrong diagnosis, maybe it wasn't this fearsome injury that would plague me for the rest of my life. So unfortunately I never knew exactly what was wrong, but at the same time I have to wonder if that glimmer of hope actually helped me recover.


With both (well, both episodes) of my fractures, I went from ignoring the pain to being hypersensitive and...well, afraid. The first time I swam after my heel fractures (actually swam, rather than aqua-jogging) I swear they hurt! I have literally no idea how those two activities could differ enough to matter, especially since I didn't push off the wall...so maybe it was all in my head.


The problem is, I don't want to overdo it and cause more damage, but I also don't want to hold myself back from something I could be doing, from the things I want to do. I don't know how to balance fear and desire without it resulting in some major stupidity.

So after finally getting back in the saddle, I'm faced with a dilemma. Sydney is not exactly graceful (read: he trips every three steps), and unfortunately he wasn't exactly predictable either time I rode. With the result that since Tuesday, my back has been nagging at me, and it's not getting any better.

Probably the second ride was another one of those stupid mistakes...but I wanted to make sure, because I love riding and to stop when I'm not absolutely certain that it's necessary would be a loss.

But...until I know what's keeping me from getting better, I think it's necessary. So I'm back to the bike and the pool, because they are predictable and horses are not (case in point: bucking pony that got me into this mess).

I don't want them to be predictable, though, because that would be boring. Horses, like life, do not always follow logical paths. But I've found that sometimes if you give them the reins, they will take you places you could only dream of; and in the end you're where you want to be, as well as having seen some new scenery along the way.
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