You know what is just as bad as men telling women what it’s like to be a woman in the workplace? Women who refuse to acknowledge that they aren’t “one of the guys”… that their own role in pulling up the ladder is just as detrimental as men who refuse to see the problem. And one step behind them is the women who readily throw shade at other women just figuring out how to navigate all this bullshit.
You’re not really a woman until you do it like I do, or Giving up alcohol opened up new ways for me to shame other womenHA!, My Thoughts About Things
I was so insanely excited to start using the “special treadmill for injured people”. I got into the most ridiculous looking machine you’ve ever seen, one designed to take the weight of gravity off my lower half, and I ran for 30 seconds and walked for 4 minutes and repeated that for as long as they would let me. I was deliriously happy. And then they told me I wasn’t progressing normally and needed to back off for another three weeks. I cried in the car on the way home from that PT visit because I had been holding on to that being my starting again point. The one shining beacon getting me through missing three races. And it was taken away. I was back to square one.
And it finally sunk in what I had refused to admit to myself: I didn’t know where or when my next run was going to be.
Aside from checking into an assisted living facility in Florida?
With the kind of break I’m dealing with, surgery is not recommended. I’m just supposed to “stay off of it” for 6 weeks. The greater part of those 6 weeks involves crutches. Then you play the fun game of “find out what you can and can’t do based on how much it hurts.” Basically, if it hurts, I can’t do it.
Running is out of the question for all of the 6 weeks and probably longer.
2015 was filled with travel, running, and of course, the Big Move from one part of the city to another…
With the impending move weighing on every conversation I have with everyone, the question I get asked the most often is, “Where are you looking?” followed closely by, “Will you please stop telling me about your plans to move?” I’ve always lived in Salt Lake City, whether it was The East Bench, The Avenues, Foothill/Parley’s, or our current location: Millcreek/Sugarhouse….