Why This Was Always Going to Happen

Last night I had a chance to get out and see Casablanca on the big screen at the Village Players Theater. My friend and teammate (Mile 1! Talk about a founding member!), Kathleen, agreed to drive me AND she ended up paying for my ticket since we ran out of time and couldn't hit the ATM. (What is this "cash" you speak of? I know not of it.) Kathleen is smart and hilarious and she just plain old knows what's what. She has had plenty of very tough health battles, her own and those she loves. My knee thing, compared to her HUGE things, is like a paper cut in comparison. That's why I was surprised (but touched) that she repeated several times on the short drive to and from the theater how upset she is for me. When you've been through the Cancer wringer (and plenty of other things, too) as she has, it would be easy to feel somewhat tempered empathy toward someone in my shoes. But not Kathleen. She, being a FAR superior human than I am, seems to very well understand the enormity of this set back for me. Thank you, Kathleen! It's totally on my to do list to be that empathic someday. (But don't hold your breath....)

Many people don't know that Bogie's line was originally written "Here's lookin' at you, stupid, fat, useless knee."

Her words were, "I just can't believe this happened to you. After all your work..." And then I remembered that I hadn't shared with her, or anyone really, how in hindsight, I can only see reasons why OF COURSE this happened to me. 

1. My last training run pre-injury was 28 miles. I felt unstoppable. I felt like I owned March 15th. I almost had an arm sprain patting myself on the back over it. 

And the Universe whispered: "Pushing Your Luck, party of one?"

2. The night before the incident, I was reading a Runner's World article about a Kenyan runner who earned a scholarship to run in Alaska. He was very successful but a variety of very hard things happened to him along the way (read the link... you will be riveted) and he wound up losing both of his legs. Reading that, I thought, "Oh, if anything happened to my legs at this point in my training, I just don't know what I would do." 

And Destiny grumbled: "Begging for disaster much?"

3. On Monday morning, a rare second day in a row that I didn't have to run, I got up and did some yoga before school. I had time to check out the blog article posted by Another Mother Runner that morning. They were doing "Love Week" and featuring running mamas who were overcoming incredibly challenging set backs, either physical, emotional or otherwise. (Click those links, but have your tissues handy and prepare your ugly cry face.) After reading that, I once again  thought to myself, "I'm not sure I could overcome it." I even commented on the blog something like "Thank you for helping me keep my minor aches and pains and setbacks in perspective." 

And Fate shouted vehemently: "Hey, Lady, you are an idiot! I'm comin' for ya!"

4. Keep in mind that all along the way during our winter sports outings with the school, I had a background hum of "Can you imagine if you get hurt on the slopes and you can't run? Wouldn't that be the most idiotic thing, since you really don't even LIKE to ski?" I let myself ponder the intense disappointment I would feel. It would be one thing to get injured while on a run - sort of maybe expected, even - but getting hurt in another situation would be the ultimate in stupid. And knowing what a difficult journey this would be to repeat, particularly if it was during a recovery of some sort, I shuddered at the idea.

The Universe, Destiny and Fate erupted together: "Ba ha ha ha ha ha ha!" 

So, here I sit. Looking at all the reasons this sucks and all the reasons it was always, for sure, absolutely going to happen. I'm not a fatalist, really, but on this one, I gotta go with Divine Intervention. I look forward to finding out what The Lesson is, though I'm afraid I already know. (It starts with P- and ends with -atience. Blech.)

Kathleen had this photo on her FB wall today and while I don't truly think I am stupid and made bad choices leading to what happened, it did make me snarf my chai tea a little:

Now HERE'S a stitch worth crafting!

If you are into praying or hoping for things, I am in need of some good communication between the Worker's Compensation folks and my orthopedics office. I cannot even get an MRI scheduled, let alone completed and evaluated, until they decide that it's something they will pay for. I will feel much better when I have a "next" on my calendar.  (While I wait I am stuck at starts with P- and ends with -issed Off, I'm afraid!)

Finally, I went to church today. You will not be shocked to find out I am not an overly-religious person. But I do love my church. It's progressive and focused on community service and full of great human beings I feel lucky to know and be known by. This is the first Sunday in eons when I've gone without Gabe. In other words, this is the first Sunday in eons when I've actually sat through, listened to, and participated in the entire service. My mind was not busy juggling anything and, for better or for worse, I had time to really feel how very, very sad I am. Relevant or not, every hymn and prayer made me teary. I was late - of course - and when I finally hobbled to my pew and opened the hymnal, the line we were on was "ponder anew what the Almighty can do." Felt like someone grabbed me by the throat. The question is, how much can I do and where and how do I just leave it up to the Almighty? (I mean, does the Almighty have any influence over MRI scheduling? I tend to doubt it....)

I know I can look at things with a genuinely cheery outlook. And mostly I really feel that way... but you don't need to dig too deep to find that I'm still in mourning.

Dammit. Still human.