I am not above faking pain or injury to achieve my goals. Of course, by "achieve my goals" I mean "avoid achieving some goal".
About once a week, when Hank is trying to get me to do something I don't want to do, I'll clutch some random part of my body and moan, "Ohhhhhhhhh, my ovaries!" It's a line I learned from the Master, Bart Simpson. I figure an animated ten year-old malcontent is a pretty good mentor for me.
Now that I've officially announced my emergence from marathon retirement, I'm taking stock of my aches and pains, because if you're going to make excuses, it's best to have them rooted in the truth. So far, I've identified the following injuries/defects:
1) My hip hurts! It's been bothering me for over a year now. I went to see a physical therapist for a while, but after a couple months with no discernable difference, I decided to stop going. The hip doesn't really bother me during normal activities and only bugs me a little during running, so I figure I can run on it until it withers and falls off. Thankfully, hips are one of the body parts that surgeons can replace these days, so no biggie.
2) My right heel hurts! This one just sprang up yesterday, which was a fairly slothful day. I have no idea what caused it or what it means, but each step on my right foot is painful. I blew off my lunchtime run today because of it. Giving up is one of my core competencies.
3) I'd like to lose a few pounds.
That last one really sticks in my craw.
In my nearly 40 years of life, I've never had to go on a diet. My build has ranged from skinny to medium. At any given time either my exercise regimen or my metabolism has kept my weight under control without me having to pay any attention to what I cram into my cry-hole. This has come in extremely handy because I cram a lot of crap in there. Do you know how many delicious chocolate treats there are in the world? I do. A crapload.
Running a marathon is hard work though and I'm probably a couple of pounds heavier than I was the last time I did ran one. So, wouldn't it be a lot easier to run those 26.2 miles if I lost 5 or 10 pounds, especially when I'm trying to qualify for Boston? Otherwise it's like carrying a dumbbell for the duration of the race, and there ain't room for another dumbbell in this body.
So, for the very first time in my life, I might try to lose a few pounds. The very thought unnverves me. I mean, one of the reasons I run is so that I DON'T have to watch what I eat, and now I'm considering restricting my diet so that I can run faster? Has this whole world gone topsy-turvy?
Middle-age has addled my brain
I can't wait to give up on this plan. Seriously, I think I sprained one of my Fallopian Tubes.