Back on June 19 I tore my calf muscle. Badly. No surgery required, but it's been a bit of a slog trying to get it better. For so long I was bruised and not able to move faster than a walk. I was bruised from knee to ankle for about three weeks, and in a fair amount of pain. I never realised just how often we moved our calves until this.
I was warned not to take it too quickly. That there would be a point at about 6 weeks post injury where I would feel able to move quicker, but I physically wasn't able. Take it slowly. Consciously make your body move this way.
Then it started getting better, and although I felt good about it, my mind still wouldn't let me move any faster than a walk. I was consciously moving a lot slower than I think I was physically able to. I was now facing a mental hurdle. The memory of the 'pop' when it tore, and the subsequent physical limitations that were placed on me....I didn't want to go back there.
I was told that after about 8 weeks I should be able to train normally, and by 10 weeks (with the proper conditioning) would be able to run again.
I'm not going to lie, it's been hard. The thing that has surprised me though is how hard I have found it mentally. I had to retrain my brain to not even break into a jog to get to my child when she needed me, let alone run after her if she was in danger. And then my brain slipped into what I can only term a depression. For the last few weeks I have had 'that' cloud hanging over me and have felt like I am in a hole that's getting deeper and I just can't get out.
I knew deep down that there was one thing missing that would help alleviate some of this ...... endorphins. I needed to exercise, to sweat, to get by brain out of this funk and back into 'real' life. I need to flip the switch back to where it was.
I trained on Thursday, and shit it felt good. I have a really bad habit of doing too much too quickly, so I had to really make sure that it was a relatively easy session. And I also made sure it was one that didn't put too much strain on my calf. I did good, and yesterday felt just the right amount of hurt. I felt like it was a start.
But my start (it seems) was a false one. I knew I should have trained yesterday (lightly) or at least today, but the funk won over and I didn't. Damn funk!!!! I've been thinking today about how to get myself back to where I should be, and then.........
I think that the switch just flipped. Literally about 10 minutes ago.
I was in the shower, berating myself for not training today, and when I got out I weighed myself. Now I have tried to steer clear of the scales for the last couple of months because not only was I not moving much, but I'd also been indulging in pity food and drink a tad too much. Eating and drinking away the funk really hasn't worked.
3kgs. 72 days. 1 kilo every 24 days. I don't think that's at all bad, and then I put on my jeans and looked at myself. I mean, REALLY looked at myself.
I have avoiding that a bit too.
I have grown a little muffin top. My bra is a little tighter than it really should be. My jeans, even though they are meant to be tight, are probably a little tighter than what they should be. My skin is dry, and I have dark rings around my eyes.
FLIP! I really need to look after myself.
Put down the cheese and champagne.
I'll be in the gym tomorrow morning.