I was really looking forward to work on Wednesday. I had already had 2 days off which we filled with productive work on our house whilst I recovered from my cold. The temptation and guilt to go out on my bike was there but I avoided it with more rubbish to ditch; more stuff to donate and sell. We bought a new sofa to make more space in the living room and arranged for the old one to go.
On Monday I saw Marcus at accelerate who turned me into a porcupine by filling me with needles and gave me some great advice to work on strength gaps which were causing me an imballance and basically, a very sore knee.
It worked. By Tuesday I wanted to run and by Wednesday I was ready to ride first and then try running on Thursday.
Thank god I rode to work.
There are no words to explain the catastrophic destruction of my sense of purpose in my career. It would be unprofessional to do so here but I basically lost all hope following what started out as a 10 minute monologue. I cried until lunchtime before working the rest of the day, cried all my way home on the bike, half the night and into the next morning. I went back to bed at 6am and slept until 9. before going to site and then crying some more on the way home.
Needless to say I didn't do my new leg exercises on Wednesday night.
On Thursday after rationalising with myself well into the evening, I was finally able to let go. We went to the pub. I didn't drink. Christmas is going to be a dry one. I did my leg exercises when we got home.
I suffered further meltdowns into Friday morning as I tried to do some work but eventually failed when I accidentally stood on my laptop, no doubt leading me into further trouble. It is not a happy time and yet, there is a large part of me which can not fathom that any of it is my fault... except for the standing on the laptop thing - that is my fault. So I shall move on, care for myself and slowly and purposefully recover in my own time this week.
No comments:
Post a Comment