The running has been sporadic lately. I could tell you that it’s still scorching here in Texas, that I’m so tired from 5 a.m. wakeup calls and from taking care of a 3-month old, but those are just small roadblocks. Those are just things I could work around or push through.
No, the big thing keeping me off the roads is the dizziness. When I’ve run lately, it’s felt like I’m treading on marshmallows, unsteady at every step.
Right now, that’s frustrating for me. I’m at the stage in sickness where I’m disappointed, where I have to choose whether to sit it out or push harder. When I was first slammed with dizziness, I packed up my running shoes, my technical shirts, my watch, my gear. I stuffed it into a bag and hid it away in my closet. I didn’t want to see it. I didn't want to be reminded that I couldn’t do something I loved.
When my husband saw it, he told me to do what I could. He said to take small steps. He said to keep running. So I tried. And it hurt some days. I had to slow my pace. I had to watch my heart rate and cut my mileage back.
What’s most frustrating is that I’ve been here before at this dark crossroads and the idea of unsteady runs that require so much from me isn’t something I’m motivated to do again.
For me, running has always been a way to unwind, but now, it’s harder, tougher.
But isn’t that also what running is about? Don’t we need to hurt a little to get better?
For those of us with migraines, we can’t always do the tough workouts, the speed workouts, the lifting, the core work, but what about when an easy run feels hard? What about when a hard effort is just an effort?
For me, a competitor, that isn’t a truth I want to hear, but for now, I’m going to take the hard runs, and maybe, soon, I’ll be a little bit better.
Run forward, friends.