Hello. Remember me? I’m the chunkiest little gazelle that wanted to run a marathon and trained so hard she completely forgot to write about her progress. And now, here we are two weeks before the 2011 ING New York City Marathon and what do we have?
A stress fracture in my pelvis. Defer my Marathon acceptance to 2012. (Even though I locked up another 9+1 back in May. Overachiever.)
Obviously, I’m more than a little crushed. But in the 24 hours since the diagnosis, I’ve been trying to keep everything in perspective and find some silver linings.
I’m not saying it’s all daisies and kittens and glitter and penguins in sweaters. I am sure that at some point over the next two weeks, surrounded by the Asics ads on the sides of buses and in the Time Warner Center, the I’M IN ads in all the subways, the banners in Central Park, and the bleachers that will soon grace Columbus Circle, I’m going to have a good cry or two. I worked hard, damnit. I want to run this race with my team and I want to cross that finish line. But the fates (and my pelvis) have decided that 2011 isn’t my year.
So here’s to being the Marathon class of 2012. Or, as I shall think of it 2011.5. We came, we ran like hell, we hit a setback, and we are going to rebuild and be that much stronger.
Today’s theory: If I put a plate of fruit on my desk, I will be more inclined to snack here rather than on the cookie remnants in the kitchen.