For the last few weeks I’ve been afraid to talk about something. I think…I think I may be making progress with my injury. I’ve been afraid to say it because the universe might scoff at my boldness and issue me yet another setback. And I’ve had enough of the setbacks.
But let’s look at the supporting evidence. It’s been 6 or 7 weeks since I’ve gone to see Dr. “you’re-doing-everything-right” (aka my physiotherapist) and I’ve had absolutely no issues with sciatic or SI pain in that time frame. He once said if I could go two months without aggravating my injury, it would be a good sign of increased joint stability. I’m so, so close to that timeframe. I’ve even been able to run up to 10 km without any sciatic or SI flare ups. Finally, my training sessions haven’t aggravated my injury at all, which I think is also proof that my trainer’s got a really good handle on my flawed body mechanics at this point. Those are a lot of positive signs.
Despite all of this, I’ve been so incredibly hesitant to say that things might be getting better, because absolutely every time I say that things are getting better that’s exactly when things go south. It’s as though karma is out to get me, though I can’t for the life of me understand what I’ve done this year to deserve such a karmic shit storm of injuries. I know you know what I’m talking about, though. Sometimes you don’t want to talk about good things because you’re afraid that it might somehow make them go away. Humans, we are an illogical species at times.
Where does this leave me? Well, I’m not ready to shout from mountain tops that I’m on the mend, that much is for sure. Instead, maybe I’m ready just to whisper it and still with slightly-more-than-cautious optimism: I think things are getting better. Shhhh. Don’t tell the universe…