Today has felt like one big day of sneaking around, fearing that I’ll be seen or caught, and feeling overwhelmingly guilty. Today, I’ve been a cheat and a sneak.
First off, I acted like a five year old and disobeyed everyone’s suggestion to avoid running. I can’t tell yet whether this will come back to bite me in the ass but I can say that, in the moment, it felt like the right course of action. Sometimes, I need to break the rules and say a big f@$k you to all the voices telling me not to do something. For the last few days, my body and mind have been craving a run. My body needs to be out of the gym, doing something different, having more freedom. My mind needed to get out of itself. It needed to shut the hell up. Though it was only 4 km, it felt fantastic in the moment. Yet I feel guilty as hell, like I shouldn’t tell anyone about it, especially my health care providers. It will be our little secret, right?
In addition to this blatant disregard for professional advice, I cheated on my doctor. I went to see another chiropractor/sports therapist who works with elite athletes and Olympic teams. I tell myself it’s not because I don’t trust my initial diagnosis and current treatment plan. I tell myself I don’t really believe that just because this other guy treats Olympians he’ll somehow find something others have missed. No, it’s really not as simple as that ‘something better has to be out there’ kind of mentality.
All of that’s a bunch of lies, of course. In reality, if things were going well with my current treatment plan, I wouldn’t be looking around at another option. What did I get in return? The same diagnosis: SI joint instability. What did he recommend? Continue with exactly what I’m doing, maybe throwing some acupuncture into the mix. Sigh. Just like cheating on a diet, all I’m left with is guilt and the sinking realization that it just wasn’t worth it. Also, I’m $200 poorer as a result.
So there you have it. I’m a cheater and a sneak and a liar and I have nothing to show for it except a lower balance in my bank account, confirmation of my initial diagnosis, and the very real likelihood that I’ll wake up tomorrow with reduced mobility. Karma has a funny way of teaching you the value of honesty and transparency, doesn’t it?