I was frustrated today. Yesterday, I biked and swam just like the day before, but it didn't feel the same. Whether it was the cumulative effects of five days of exercise or what, I was exhausted afterward- the kind of tired where you can't move but you also can't actually get to sleep. And I woke up this morning in pain.
I wanted so badly to hop out of bed and get on the bike, get over to the pool early and finish it all so that I could have a full, productive day. I'm not even sure I know how to do that anymore. I couldn't get out of bed to pee before 10:00. It took two rounds of Vicodin (four hours apart), a Celebrex and scrambled eggs to shoehorn me into some clothes. Then, I rode the bike and then, I was unable to convince myself to go to the pool. Or change into real clothes. Or shower.
And I'm still exhausted tonight. I think that's what frustrates me the most. I rested. I relaxed. I sewed my daughter a hat. And I feel like I've been hit by a truck.
I'm supposed to go to Duluth with Eric and Nora in 10 days or so. We are scheduled to have business meetings at Duluth Clinic, meet with our partners, shop for houses and interview daycares. And of course, I can't neglect my therapy. How on earth am I going to manage all that when I have yet to eat all three meals at the table?
As irritating as the weight-bearing restrictions are and as time-consuming as the therapy is, what is really chafing me is the lack of stamina. I'm living this life right now that is so much slower than I'm used to. I thought that would afford me some sense of peace, but it turns out that there is a fine line between peace and stagnation. And the more I try to kick myself back into the stream of things, the farther I sink.
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