I struggle with myself more than I struggle with anyone else. With less than eight weeks less until 70.3 Miami, I am desperately trying to restrain myself from my typical modus operandi of self-sabotage. But the truth…
I am starting to doubt this race.
For almost a year, I’ve been going back and forth with a hip injury. This injury, which has been diagnosed as a torn labrum will require surgery at some point when I am done being stupid and triathletic. For a while, there was almost no pain. After my big 13.1 miler two weekends ago followed by a day in ridiculous heels, I have been pretty much suffering through every workout (and every step to the breakroom, the bathroom, and all in between).
Yes, the pain is real. The pain is present. But I can’t help but think that I am using the pain as an excuse. I don’t want to do that.
At physical therapy on Monday, the massage therapist was digging into my hip and butt for trigger point therapy. He hit one spot that immediately brought tears to my eyes: the “hurts so good” factor.
He said, “You are the first person in thirty years of massage therapy that didn’t scream, crawl away, or say ‘stop’ with that trigger point.”
“Huh,” I said. “Well, I only screamed once in thirty-six hours of labor, and your trigger point wasn’t even close to as painful.”
He just stared at me.
So I have a high pain threshold. So what? Well. That means that my doubt issues fall somewhere in my head, not my hip.
I can physically tolerate the pain. But the question is: can I mentally tolerate it? Am I mentally strong enough to make it to and through the finish (in under 8 hours) at Miami?
Plain and simple, I don’t have the answer. At this point, I am just scared.