My Wave is Coming.

I’ve been avoiding writing a blog for a week or two due to the fact that once I really write about it, it makes it real-er. What is ‘it’? ‘It’ is the stress fracture that my doctor saw on the MRI I got. A stress fracture in my sacrum—which, according to my almost-doctor-roommate, doctor friend, and actual doctor I went to see—it’s a hard bone to fracture. I guess I’m just that talented! So besides going crazy what am I doing, you ask? I’ve been lifting, biking, sleeping in, listening to my body. I’ve had to listen reallllly hard. Usually I ignore those aches and pains and power through the pain and just attribute it to soreness—but this time it’s different, I truly need to let my body heal. And this is going to take time. Today is week 6.

 A while ago a man I met on the road gave me a book. He’s a fellow runner and athlete and gave me the book called The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks and Giants of the Ocean. Nothing to do with running really, but about the people in Hawaii chasing the biggest wave they can find. Catching that high that makes them get up in the morning, head to the beach and get on their board to surf this crazy ocean that seems angry, the water gets so big and so powerful I wonder why anyone would want to put themselves in the middle of that fight.

The book is great, I’m fascinated with this lifestyle. But then I hear about how these men, all of them, have suffered broken bones, impalings on the reefs, cuts, bruises, sprains, stitches and concussions. Yet they still go back. They heal, they bounce back and maybe they’re better for it. They’re out for weeks, maybe months healing, watching their friends catch the big waves and supporting them while they have to sit on the beach and watch. That’s me. I’m sitting out. Every week I get an email from my running group, Bob tells the group how far they need to run to be in condition for their spring time marathon, where and when they’re meeting. Then I text my friend and wish her a good run, and she texts me back saying she’ll miss my company on the run but “get healthy!”

The running community is a great support. I’m lucky to be a part of it, but I’m broken right now but I will be back, I will train for that rogue, freak or giant that is out there for me to conquer. This time off is just going to make me stronger for it…

Off to the recumbent bike and some weights! For those of you training, those of you who have been supportive to me in my craziness—thank you. Good luck in your races! I’ll be cheering for you!!!

A few things found in DE.

 

Like I’ve said in previous posts, I basically travel for a living. This past week I was in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.  This was as far east as I’ve ever been in Delaware and had been excited about heading that direction all week. Because it’s February and off-season in a beach town, hotel rooms on the beach are super duper cheap—so I took full advantage!

Arriving early evening on Wednesday, I took myself for a drive along the coast and around the town, I got a little lost and found myself and finally checked into The Breakers Hotel and took a stroll around Rehoboth beach on foot. Of course I’d done research and knew that Dogfish Head Brewpub was stumbling…I mean walking distance from my hotel. I had made plans to meet friends the following evening at the brewery for a tour and tasting session. But the Brewpub serves local beer, local food and local charm.

Tasty

My first dinner at a bar—alone. I ordered a 90 minute IPA and a club sandwich and looked around, trying to appear less awkward than I felt. I pulled out my book, (Going Long: The Best Stories from Runner\’s World) and pretended to read. Sip. Glance around. Sip. Sip. Food. My new distraction! The bar wasn’t busy, but busy enough to people watch, read every sign hanging on the walls and enjoy every bite of my meal.

The next thing I know a man in his 50’s sits two stools down from my and asked me about my book, asks me if I’ve read Born to Run (uhh, duh, yes!) This led to another beer and more conversation about running, training, life on the road, dinners alone, more running and finally the exchange of cards and the promise to keep in touch and maybe get a run in in the future if our traveling lives pass again on the road. Successful solo dinner!

Lunch at the Boardwalk

The next day I woke to a 50-degree morning, sunny with a slight wind off the ocean. I took off with no other idea than the one that I needed to run for about 50 minutes. I ran down Second St, where the road wound through neighborhoods, across a couple bridges and into Dewy Beach. The storefronts abandoned in October when the tourist left, neon signs flash vacancy, or signs taped to the door reading Thanks for a great season! See you in March! A ghost town on the beach.

 

Retracing my steps, I turn right after the last bridge to get closer to the water. I’d heard that there was a mile long boardwalk: wooden planks AKA: my favorite running surface of all time! The next mile I looked and listened to the waves, heard every footfall on the wood below me and felt a soft, oddly warm February breeze on my face. Bliss. I’d found, great conversation, great beer, a great run and bliss in Delaware.