One week ago, I signed up to do Ironman Texas in the Woodlands. Was this a mistake or the result of delirium caused by taking too many pain pills?
Ever since shoulder surgery, I've been inactive and depressed. I was so used to being active nearly every day but am now locked indoors and am not allowed to even lift a cup or plate. I haven't been able to sleep well at all due to the uncomfortable sling I have to wear, along with the continuous shock of stabbing pain pulsating through my shoulder. Waking up every 30 minutes is not pleasant, especially when you're already sleep deprived. No movie or book could cure all the doubts and questions that are going through my head (plus, I've nearly finished watching my entire movie collection). Will my shoulder ever be the same? Will I get back 100% motion? Will I be able to be as strong as I was? What will I do if I'm not allowed to play sports ever again? I love sports. I'll die without them.
I was starting to lose it mentally.
To stop this unending negative thinking, I needed something to look forward to, a goal so big that all that consumes my mind is how I can achieve it.
What was the first thing that popped into my mind? Ironman.
What!? An Ironman? You can't handle that. You said you would never do one, especially after that half last October. That's crazy. You can't even swim, run, or bike right now. How are you suppose to train?Your shoulder cannot handle that so soon. You don't even know how rehab will go. There's too much uncertainty. An Ironman is impossible.
Perfect.
I'm a dreamer. I've always been a dreamer. I'm rarely in the world of reality when I'm in my head. This goal is perfect. I'm already imagining myself crossing the finish line with the hugest smile on my face. I'm getting teary just thinking about it already. I can already tell that this journey is going to be amazing. It's going to hurt like hell, but I am going to be an Ironman.
