Since I ran the Madison marathon a few weeks I have had little motivation to do anything other then eat, drink and play with my kids. I've spent some time thinking about races I want to do this summer but have nothing definitive planned until the NYC marathon in November. I'm not someone that works out for vanity's sake. If I'm not training for a race, then I really only workout to sweat out the toxins from the burritos, pizza, wine, beer or whatever unhealthy things I've been ingesting for the couple of days prior. Those of you who know me know my diet is not what you'd call healthy. I think cheese and butter should be a central part of every meal. Good genetics and a lot of running mean I have freaky good cholesterol despite my diet. Anyways, I do those meaningless workouts because I feel guilty that I'm not training for some race. I really only get motivated to push myself when I have a race to train for. I need something epic to train for; an Ironman, a marathon, something that is really going to be a challenge. I've been telling myself the last few weeks, rather unconvincingly, that I'm just taking it easy because I need to recover from Madison. But the reality is that we ran so damn slow because of the heat that it really wasn't anything more than another slow long run. I was recovered pretty much within a few days. So that is the malaise I've been feeling, the post-marathon blahs. blaaaaaaaah!!!!! No motivation. blaaaaah!!! Eat some pizza, watch some TV. blaaaah!!!
So one morning last week I'm on a treadmill at my club running a few miles sweating out some beer from the night before while thinking about writing a blog about my post marathon blahs. I was also thinking about how really well I'm running right now and what a waste it seems that I'm rather directionless when it comes to my running/triathlon goals for the summer. My ideas for the blog were gaining momentum in my head while I was on otherside of the gym lifting weights. Then, WHAM, something popped in my lower back. I dropped to a knee and had difficulty standing up. I had to shuffle step my way back home and was in such serious pain I had trouble catching my breath. I felt like a giant vice was crushing my lower back. I was fearful that I had slipped a disc and was going to be layed up for the next few months, or worse yet, have to have surgery. Fortunately, my doc says it's likely a strained ligament. And while I've been really stiff and sore, I'm feeling better thanks to Motrin and lots and lots of ice.
What's my point? Just like that I went from feeling pretty damn fit, although unmotivated, to being barely able to walk. I wasn't doing anything stupid like in the Ironman last summer (Bucky the Badger!). It happened in an instant. Now I can't wait to go on a good, long run. I can't wait to feel healthy again, like I can run, ride or swim to my heart's content. I'm already planning a long run for next weekend, back pain permitting. I need to know I can!
p.s. Of course my diet isn't going to change. Father's day dinner tonight at my BFF's consisted of a steak, a cheeseburger, fries, salad and three beers. And while I certainly understand the subjective reasons for running, like the runner's high, a big reason I run as much as I do is that I don't feel a damn bit of guilt eating whatever I want!
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