“Sorry Irene, I have to go”, I say, as I abruptly get up from the Stu tables (Student Center, the "Stu” for short) and make my way home. So many emotions where going trough my mind, my body was having issues processing how to breath. Who would have thought that this bullshit, would fuck up, so much more than my mind?
As I mentioned in my “To My Ex Friend, You Are Not My Eskimo Sister” article, the guy I had a crush on, ended up hooking up with a girl I was starting to become friends with. When she texted me asking if it was okay for her to go to semi with him, I knew, just knew that it had been going on for a while.
That week, I had just started feeling better from the strep throat episode. This was the first time I had strep, and it was bad. Not only did the doctors not know what was wrong with me, but they also falsely diagnosed me. I was so sick, that I was in bed from Sunday to Tuesday. While I was in bed, I couldn’t eat. My throats felt like I had a football stuck in the back of my throat. While feeling the severity of the illness, I used what little energy I had in me to make an appointment. The only slot available was on Tuesday at 9 am. On Tuesday around 3 am, I finally had the strength to get up and eat. But little did I know, my body was not as strong, as it once was.
Why I was in no position to run 6 miles:
Disclaimer: so this is what I remember happening, it may or may not be 100% accurate.
Monday January 22, 3:00 a.m.
I got up, and made myself instant oatmeal. As I was waiting, the lights started to go out. Holy shit, is there a blackout right now? Wait, I’m going down. Legs wtf ,move. Woah, what was that? The microwave timer goes off, and I smell the cinnamon. Hmmmm, oatmeal. I take a couple of bites, but I want to eat my oatmeal on my bed, so I walk towards my bed. Why is the room spinning? I fall onto my ruck. I wake up, how long have I been asleep, where tf am I? What’s that gooey thing on my arm? Oatmeal.
Must.
Eat.
Oatmeal.
I finish the oatmeal that didn’t spill. Okay, I’m a little weak, let’s go back to the kitchen and make more oatmeal. Another blackout.
Grab the doorknob, wake up Carol.
“Hey Carol…. “,
Carol screams and tries to talk to me and jumps over my body, running towards Greta’s room.
“Carol, don’t freak out”, I try to say.
Shortly after, Greta and Carol health me back to life. A couple of days go by, and I am starting to regain my energy, specially since I lost 7 lbs in 2 days. I mean, looking back it makes sense, but at that moment I wasn’t thinking, if anything I was trying not to think. Not only was I weak, but I didn’t know that my body was no longer strong.
Here's the picture from my apartment with the oatmeal stain on the wall from where I fell:
End of January
I was so mad, I wanted to punch something, I just wanted to rip my hair out or something. So I went to the Ray (DePaul gym), and ran on our indoor track. I don’t even know what playlist I had on, but I knew it was loud, ear damaging loud. As I ran, I saw the volleyball team playing, which I was part of, but couldn’t go that day. I said something about too much homework, but it was actually too much anxiety.
As I started running, I was having a dialogue with myself, and deciding what to do. How will I handle this, should I let it go or fight for this? At some point I was sprinting and crying. My chest hurt so bad, both from the running and from the stupid feelings. My tears were mixing with my sweat and my snot.Okay, I’m sorry, that sounds a lot more gross when I type it than intended.
Then, 6 miles are up, and I am exhausted. I’m ready to do some homework. I felt good, ready to go to sleep and deal with this shit tomorrow. I shower and go to Abbey’s. As I am walking to her place, my foot starts hurting. I ignored it.
It is now 11 pm, and I am picking my things up getting ready to leave Abbey’s, when my foot really starts hurting. Abbey asks me if I was okay, and I say “I’m fine”.
To save you from all the gory details, I was not okay. I was out for about 2 months. I was miserable for 2 months. I used running as my stress reliever, and now I couldn’t run?! How was I supposed to get my anger/stress out? I was so fit, and now I could barely walk. I was so sad, and on top of that, my body was starting to get all soft and less toned. It was sadness on top of sadness. Then the x-ray alone cost about $500. Fuck me! Literally and figuratively, the world was just giving me bullshit after bullshit.
The thing with my injury, was how useless I felt. I was no longer me. If I wasn’t running, then who was I? Not only could I not run, but I couldn’t put much pressure on my foot. I didn’t know any workouts without being on my foot. I went back to CorePower, and sculpt classes, but it wasn’t the same. I had to get my stress out another way, but it wasn’t working. Talk about winter blues.
What this stupid injury taught me, is that I have to take it slow. I’m getting older now, and when you turn 20, your body is on a fast decline. I can no longer get away with all the unhealthy things I used to do. Yet alone run 6 miles, when I haven’t ran in a week, AND ON TOP OF THAT COMING FROM AN ILLNESS. I need to "take things with a grain of salt", whatever that means.