Addicted to Love

Drugs scare me.  Almost physically.  As a kid, I remember hearing about Len Bias, picked 2nd overall in the 1986 NBA draft.  He died two days later after cocaine stopped his heart.  I don't know if it was his death, or another celebrity OD that did it to me, but I've never been intrigued to ingest, inhale, inject or snort any substance that has a side effect of DEATH.  But that doesn't mean I've never been addicted to other "drugs."

I love Twitter.  It's is an amazing application that helps bring people of like minds, interests, whatever together.  It's a virtual community that keeps me in touch with friends all across the country (and world if I chose) and has introduced me to some new friends, some of which I've actually met face to face.  But it has the potential to do just as much damage as good when abused.

I originally signed on in March 2009 after hearing a co-worker talk about it.  I ignored it for a few months and then began using it originally to contribute for work.  But I started to use it more and more as a social site, keeping in touch with some friends, sharing jokes or the odd musing of the day.  I soon found other people that shared my interests, most notably running and food.  When I finally upgraded to a smartphone, the addiction grew.  I probably checked in at least 10 times an hour, afraid I'd miss something important (read funny).  Most of my conversations centered around running, food or just being a smart ass.  But some didn't.  And that's where the real addiction began.  I used it to escape reality instead of face it.  I'm not a morally-challenged person.  I can tell the difference between right and wrong.  Sometimes I'm just very slow at making the right decision, usually for selfish reasons.  But that's where I'm at now.  I've never had a huge number of people I follow but in the last few days have whittled it down to just over 100 people, restaurants or other companies.  And here is how it breaks down: 54 people I've actually met, 34 places/companies and 15 people I haven't met (I would like to meet those 15, but Conan O'Brien or hurdler Lolo Jones, that probably won't happen).  So after today, I'm taking a break from Twitter.  Maybe for good, I really can't say.  I've enjoyed conversations I've had and some of the people I've met, especially my fellow runners and foodies.  And for those 54 that I have met, it doesn't mean the end of our conversations.  Most of you know how to reach me and are free to if you want to talk or laugh (or groan) at my dry wit.  But it's something that I need to do. 

Deja Vu

So, I didn't think when I titled my previous entry "Embracing Pain," that it would prove to be a bit prophetic.  Last week after my Saturday 6-mile run, I felt a little sore, like I had strained my right adductor.  Hoping for the best, on Sunday, I got dressed and ready for my 10-mile run and tested my leg.  I lasted maybe 10 steps.  Ouch.  Fortunately I was able to see my doc just a few days later and because the pain was different from last November, he suggested physical therapy and then an MRI in a few weeks if the pain persisted.  Well, I didn't want to wait two weeks to learn it was worse, so we got the MRI.

Side note: I went to the doc on Wednesday morning, scheduled the MRI for Thursday morning and a follow-up for Thursday afternoon.  The MRI lab called Wednesday evening asking to reschedule the MRI because my insurance had not yet "pre-authorized" the procedure.  If they don't authorize it, I pay for it all out of pocket.  I called my insurance Thursday morning to see what the hold-up was and found out that the "pre-authorization" is actually done by another company contracted by my insurance.  So another phone call gave me no new information, except that a decision hadn't been made.  I didn't wait and I'm glad I didn't. 

I have a stress fracture in my right pelvis, almost in the exact same spot as the stress fracture in my left pelvis last November.  Hope the decision makers think it was necessary now.  I'm definitely not speechless.  Frustrated.  More than I've ever been.  Feel a little betrayed by my body but know that it's not its fault. So now I need to take 6 weeks off.  I can ride the stationary bike in a couple of weeks but doc said if I get in a pool to swim, I need to keep my feet together, so no aqua jogging.

Long story short, I have a flight to Chicago that I may or may not use.  The marathon is out.  They drew blood to check for vitamin D deficiency.  In six weeks, I'm going to undergo a bio-mechanical assessment to see if I'm doing something horribly wrong that's adding extra stress to my body.  Even debating changing my flight to Charlottesville, Virginia to go to UVA's Center for Endurance Sport and paying to get the 3D gait analysis assessment.  I really want to figure this out.  I don't run 100 miles a week, not even half that most weeks.  I take multivitamins and eat relatively healthy.  I just don't understand.  Extremely disappointed. 

I just want to run.