I’m happy to report back that all of the Kinney Multisport team demolished Ironman Arizona, including a few stellar PRs. Congrats to the team – I tracked you online so much that it’s probably creepy. You are all awesome and continue to inspire me! So much so, that this is my new motto:
The ankle is getting better, but still swollen. I started physical therapy and will go twice a week for at least six weeks. I was told to still stay off of my leg unless I’m doing regular activities. Any long distance walking needs to be on crutches and I need to wear my ankle brace, compression sock and supportive tennis shoes all the time. Despite some workplace fashion quandaries (tennis shoes and slacks? Ack!) and not being able to do any workouts on my feet (hello upper body and core), it’s going as expected. I guess I can’t complain.
Oh look. Another idiot taking a photo in a gym mirror. I’ll spare you an flexed muscle shots — this photo is just to show my awesome compression sock/brace look. That Hansel is so hot right now!
Furthermore, my family has been so incredibly sweet. They took the time they were supposed to use to go to Tempe to come to California and visit. They never complained once about the money they lost on their airline tickets that they had to cancel and they are all so supportive with me picking up the pieces and trying again. Love you guys! I definitely can’t complain.
I will admit though, Sunday was tough. If you sit on the coach long enough doing nothing, you’ll surely overanalyze everything. If you’re tracking the race you were supposed to do, it’s highly likely that you’ll go crazy.
For the past week, I kept asking myself, “Why?!” I’m a firm believer in that there is a reason for everything, but I’m just so damn impatient and I want to know what that reason is. I analyzed every possibility and have multiple scenarios that I’ve convinced myself of, but I have to admit something first…
Over the past four months of training, everywhere I looked I would see the same set of numbers. These three numbers would show up on clocks, watches, radios, you name it. Whenever I would see it, I would shout, “CHICKEN FACE! THERE IT IS AGAIN!”
He would laugh and call me crazy (he’s probably right.) I even told my cycling friends about it on a ride and asked if they had ever experienced something like this and what it meant. They just looked at me like I was losing it. That number:
I kid you not. From 91.1, to 9:11. It was everywhere. I usually don’t believe in this type of stuff, but I just can’t help but to think that someone or something was trying to tell me something. It was weird. Really weird. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be there for some crazy/scary reason.
Anyways, to move on from the strange omens, I still believe that this injury happened for a reason. The reason that I’m choosing to believe is that it just wasn’t my time. Instead, maybe I was meant to train for a year to get to know more about the three sports and myself. I spent a year learning, struggling, overcoming, and just plain growing, but now it’s time to train harder and smarter than ever before. It’s time to grow into a serious athlete, not just a gal who was sidelined by a sprained ankle.
I am more determined than ever, dammit.
I’ve researched my options. I’m weighing the pros and cons. I’m anxiously awaiting the answer to come clear so I can hit register and start down the new path. IMCDA? IM Whistler? IM Lake Tahoe? What do I do and how do I do it? Whatever it is, I’m ready!
Well, in four to six weeks. Hurry up and heal ankle!