Earlier this summer, I had a steroid shot in my back that was supposed to relieve the pain I’ve experienced in my lower left back (and which is pinching on nerves and causing other issues). Unfortunately, the shot did not have the intended effect, and the follow up sessions of physical therapy only brought temporary relief. Rather than try another shot or more therapy, I am opting to have surgery. I was given the option of a less invasive procedure (which the doctor said wouldn’t clear up all the issues I have) or to have a degenerating disc replaced in addition to cleaning up a second disc that is bulging. I’ll have to stay overnight in the hospital and take a week off from work; after that, it will be another month to six weeks before I can run again.
I never thought I would be having back surgery – I used to hear how back surgery procedures used to be horrible, with long recovery times and uncertain outcomes. And even though the technology has improved, the idea of someone tinkering around with the spine makes people nervous. I would be nervous, if I weren’t so ready to get rid of the problem once and for all! I imagine I’ll be nervous when the surgery finally arrives – just like the moment when the roller coaster leaves the loading ramp, and you’re strapped in with no escape.
I’m trying to think of the week and a half I’m taking off for the surgery as the introvert’s dream staycation. I’ll have a couple of days before the surgery, and won’t be able to drive for the following week, so I’ll have plenty of time to read. I read a lot in my line of work, but I still need to recharge my battery with some good fiction (or non-fiction unrelated to oil and gas) on the weekends. It will be nice to have a built-in excuse not to go anywhere for a change!
I have done a little run-walking, but decided to hold off until I feel like I’m in shape to train the way I want. I did go out for the group run this past Saturday – mainly to see people I know and just to feel a sense of normalcy – but I could definitely tell I’m not in the shape I was in January. It’s sad how quickly you can lose fitness! My Slo-Mo Snail Pace and the hot humid weather made for a long five miles. A comment from a fellow runner about how I wasn’t running my usual pace made me even more self-conscious about my current state. I found myself wanting to run faster than I should — I realized later that the comment was harmless, and that people were not judging me for not running at my usual speed. It was the critical voice in my inner head, the one that says I need to keep up and won’t accept imperfection, no matter what.
I decided to skip the run this past Saturday to swim (and believe me, I wanted to be running and enjoying the rare August cool front). Instead of sleeping in on Saturday morning (and lying on the couch watching reruns of home renovation shows), I’ve decided to maintain the schedule I have in the past – getting up early on Saturday morning to do something active, whether it’s the elliptical at the gym or swimming.
I met a fellow runner friend who’s been dealing with injuries, and we caught up and commiserated over laps and breakfast at Starbucks. We talked about what a big role running had played in our lives, and how it can be difficult to relieve stress and even make big decisions without our running. This injury has really shifted the balance I used to have in my life – things that used to not bother me can set my teeth on edge, and work and issues that I’ve been dealing with in my personal life loom even larger without the release I get from a run at the park.
I know that there are no guarantees, but I’m hopeful that the surgery will take care once and for all of the issues I’ve been dealing with. I will likely end up running the half at Houston (and will definitely not be shooting for a new personal best), but just to be able to run with no issues with be a welcome treat. This experience has been a reminder to me to never take the basics – particularly the ability to run and my health – for granted. Hopefully, the surgery will allow me to reestablish the balance in my life that I’m sorely missing.