Just a bum hamstring short of glory
This is a hamstring clenched tighter than the Incredible Hulk’s smashing fist. This is a hamstring that went “pop” 24 hours ago as I bent forward in a stiff-legged deadlift. This is a hamstring that made me hobble around all day wondering whether this entire project is being flushed down the toilet.
Newsflash: It isn’t.
So, a day after my muscle went “pop” and I voraciously scoured WebMD for treatment, I’m back in the gym. However, today is not about setting a weightlifting record (not that I was anywhere close to doing that before). Instead, today is lots of stretching and recovery work.
There’s no running today, either. This excess of time from the roads and trails is a bit flooring. So much of who I am is tied to running. When friends call, they ask about my training. My coworkers know I often carry my shoes and a set of clothes around, just in case. Three times a week, I have a place to be at 5:30 a.m.
For a period (albeit hopefully brief) that identity is gone. Pangs of envy bite from the pit of my stomach as runners, clad in bright apparel, bound past me on the street. Running has provided a space to meet others and conceptualize the negative spirals of depression. With the running outlet gone, I’m forced to reconcile some of the difficult realities I’ve been avoided.
For one, running is not my life. It’s a part of my life. Putting too much stock in one thing is a surefire way to crash and burn. Objects and activities can become addictions. As Tyler Durden says in Fight Club, “The things you own end up owning you.” I love running, but I don’t want to be owned by it. I’m not rejecting running or giving up, but it’s good to know I can go a day without stepping outside for a few miles.
Second, I’m not immortal. I can’t lace up multiple times a day and go to the gym in-between. My stamina isn’t at that level, yet. I’m thankful for the humility of this injury. Warm-ups and cool downs are important. Do them. Plus, my training plan was too ambitious. A body needs rest and this dip in activity is the perfect time to re-evaluate.
Finally, and this is the most important, the depression is going to be with me no matter what I do. Yes, I buried the lede. I did so on purpose because coming to grips with this reality is a daily task. It’s more uncomfortable than giving up running for a bit and realizing I’m not as elastic as I thought. Running was never a cure-all, it was an outlet.
People struggling with mental health issues are too often assumed to be “cured” because they saw a specialist or got medication. Just because I wrote a blog post talking about how running brings me joy doesn’t mean everything will forever be rosy. The solution is not that simple. Struggling with mental health is a lifelong endeavor — some days are easier than others. The task is there every day. Without running, I’m forced to find other outlets. If I’m taking the stance of never being a victim of mental health, I must continue to fight.
Hopelessness is selfish when so many others fight on every day.
Yes, the hamstring is strained, but the journey continues. Time to refocus, regroup and come back smarter. Those roads and trails are still going to be there in a bit. I hope they’re resting, too, because I’ll soon be ready.
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