Sidelined.

Friday rolled around, and it was time to make arrangements for the long run. I knew I needed to get in 20 miles, and having taken a couple of rest days, I hoped my IT band would tolerate it. The husband had signed up for a trail race he had to be at by 8:00, so I knew the 20 miles had to start at 5.

I contacted my running friends. 5 a.m. was too early for their schedule, so I knew I'd go it alone.

This wasn't a big deal. I ran my 18 mile long run by myself, and had a beautiful loop to do it around. However, I've become more anxious about running alone in the dark, so I decided to do the first part of my run on the treadmill, and then finish outside when there was daylight.

Saturday morning, the alarm went off. I got dressed, grabbed my water bottles and my ipod, and headed out to the treadmill in my garage. I set up a fan for the illusion that I was actually moving rather than running in place, and started my run. I went through one podcast, and it was about all I could do to keep going. It was torturous-- after having spent years running on a treadmill or elliptical as I was in the throes of an eating disorder, I thought this wouldn't be a big deal. But I found myself instead glaring at the time ticking by, thinking, "Surely the sun has come up by now." I'd hop off, run to the garage door and peer out, only to be heartbroken by the pitch blackness that could have screamed "It's midnight!"

This happened several times between mile 5 and mile 7. After mile 7, though, I hopped off to check for daylight again, and found that I could barely walk.

My IT band was angry. Very angry.

In tears, I went inside and woke my sleeping husband. This was very selfish of me, because I know how nervous he gets before a race, and waking him up made it certain he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. I was a wreck, though.

I'm not going to be able to train. I'm not going to be able to get my goal time-- I don't know if I can even race! I wanted to do this for me, to prove to myself that I can do hard things, I can get through the crappy stuff. And here I am, sidelined, and it's totally out of my control. I'm so disappointed.

I cried into my husband's chest. The patient, sleep deprived husband of mine hugged me and said, "It's not out of your control. You're overdoing it. This is your body's way of saying you need to take a break. Spend some time training on the bike, and give your IT band some time to heal. Give yourself some time to heal."

So the past couple of days, I've been on the bike. I'll keep you posted as to whether it actually does me any good.