upside down and backwards

I took a deep breath as Dr. Mike...... the substitute Chiropractor...... began to execute the Yamaguchi triple lundi mach 5 with a twist...... and bam..... no crack. He claimed it cracked. I told him it didn't. Where was the magic? Where was the force?

Dr. Les just knows my body. His partner is wonderful don't get me wrong. I walked out of there in less pain, about one number less. My life these past 2 weeks is lived by numbers. Pain on a scale of 1-10. Friday was a zero. Saturday 5, Sunday 5 Monday 6, Tuesday started off at 6 and we are down to 5. Dr. Les will be back by Monday. I think.

I am tempted to fly myself to Montana and find my BFF fly fishing. If it wasn't for that damn accident a few years back he'd be riding a bike instead of fly fishing.

"I was the one in the big crash of 03." I admitted to Dr. Mike. He told me that he told Les.... if he ever saw him on a bike again he'd kill him.

If I ever saw him on a bike again I'd freaking to a back handspring. With a helmet.

Today's training was just as everything else has been, one step at a time. 35 minutes on the precor was fine, the pain settled at a 5 and stayed there. Biking for 1:45 was like being given complete freedom. Pain to a zero.

And then I tried it. I ran to the stop light and back. One mile. If that. Pain = 5. But it didn't change. It didn't radiate, it didn't increase, it didn't go anywhere. It's like you could put a stamp on my back. It's isolated and I know it will heal.

But first things first.

Tomorrow I will run for 45 minutes and see what happens. If the pain remains at the same level, good. If it increases..... then crap. I can tolerate it staying.

As I thought ahead to next week, I thought if I am going to taper for one week, wing training for another 2, perhaps I should at least approach this thing with some sort of plan. So here it is;

When I wake up in the morning of race day I will help myself to a giant cup of HTFU. Then I will grab my friends wing and prayer. I will hold them tight. Then I will see what I have inside of me.

I pushed a 10 pound baby out of a hole that is supposedly 10 cm. Took me 17 hours. Notice when you have a child they tell you the circumference of your baby's head in inches, not centimeters. They don't want exhausted drugged up mommas figuring out that X inches does not equal 10 centimeters.

For 17 hours I pushed that kid out. I know what pain is. I can tolerate 13 miles of pain. Walking doesn't make it any better so the fastest way to this finish line will be to run. It's a gamble, it's a risk, I will take an appropriate off season.

I feel like I am hanging on a rope that is fraying. The only way I am going to fall is if that last thread breaks. Not because I let go.

While it is certainly important to arrive at a starting line 100% ready and healthy, at least I have one of those. I am 100% ready. I am not 100% healthy. I will have a pain free swim and a pain free bike. When it comes down to that run I am just going to have to dig deeper than I have ever dug, be braver than I have ever been, and run the best 13 miles that I can.

Just give me a finish line. It's been a while.