Just when I was about to call it quits

It's been a rough few weeks for me.  I had this magic date of January 1 as the day I need to be back training again if I plan on doing Gulf Coast Half Ironman Distance.  And as the clock has been ticking away, my fitness and mobility have NOT been improving.  There has been such an intense amount of pain in my trapezius as a result of my spinal accessory nerve being severed.  And my range of motion has been very limited.  Additionally I have been gasping for air when I run.  And the one time I got on a bike made me gasp so hard, I swore I would not get back on until that problem was corrected.

Since Sunday, I have been trying to decide what to do.  I don't want to set a goal that I know I won't (or can't) reach and then disappoint myself and others by failing.  Just about every scenario has gone through my head.  Maybe I should only run?  Maybe it should only be 5Ks and 10Ks and also lift weights?  What is the minimum amount of time I need to get ready for a race?  Should I ditch the entire 2012 season or just punt the spring races and hope for fall ones?

But mostly the question that rolls around in my head 24/7 is "when will I feel normal again?"  Can I please have a sign?!?  Before I go to bed every night, my prayer is "Dear God, can you please change out all the cells in my body for healthy ones while I sleep so I can feel good again?"

So I was bumming on myself this morning when I first woke up.  Because yesterday I pretty much decided to quit. I decided to just forget about doing tris for next year because I have no idea how I'm going to get back into shape feeling as I do.  And then when I headed to the bathroom to take a shower, I got the sign I was looking for.  I was able to take off my pajama top.  Ok.  That might sound weird, I know.  But because of the immobility of my rotator cuff and trap muscle, I have to struggle every time I take off a shirt that goes over my head.

And this morning, it just came right off.  It didn't take me wriggling around and yanking for what seems like 10 minutes.  And in the shower, I was able to move my arm almost like normal.  Big smile.  Big big smile.

In the hours that have followed, it is natural for the muscles to seize back up and I don't have as much mobility and the pain has seeped back in.  But that 2 hour window allowed me to see into the future and know that eventually everything is going to be alright.

I don't know what will happen next year.  I don't know if I will be able to compete again.  What I do know is that I'm not going to give up hope that it will happen.  I will keep believing that it will happen until it does, no matter how long that takes.  A day, a week, a month, a year.  Because that is how badly I want it.  And because quite frankly, giving up now would just ruin the entire story.