How long am I supposed to be patient?

I fully believe that life is cyclical. We operate on a circle or at least a pendulum. What goes up, must come down, what goes back, must come forth, et cetera. The universe strives for balance.

For a long time, I lamented that I got into martial arts ‘so late’ at twenty-seven. But everything I love, I wish I had done earlier, and I wouldn’t have had time to do everything that I love all at once. Now, I’m thankful that I got into while I was still young enough to compete.

This does not always help when I’m on the down swing or on the backslide.

I used to think that I was a late bloomer. And in some aspects, maybe I am. I always felt that I came to things late. Now I believe that I just like to try a lot of things. Maybe I’m getting to everything right when I’m supposed to be getting to it.

I haven’t run since mid-March. I’m still dealing with Achilles Tendonitis, which is the offshoot of an injury I sustained last May. I know that there’s no rushing this without more risk of injury. I’m happy that I’m at least able to bike again (in March, I was not able to bike without pain) and that my husband’s HSA enables me to afford the physical therapy costs.

But now that my Achilles is healing, other muscles in my calves are protesting. My hips are tight. I do my physical therapy every day. I’ve been patient. My body is changing as a result in ways I don’t like. I have deleted more email invites to races and race discounts than I’d like to acknowledge. It makes travelling more difficult, as I need a physical outlet and now have to make plans around it, rather than just packing clothes and shoes and heading out before everyone wakes up. I also didn’t realize how much of my identity was tied up in being a runner until I couldn’t do it for so so so long.

The first time I was unable to run for a long period of time, I at least had access to a pool. I didn’t like it (as you can see), but I had one.

I’m trying to be patient. I know I only have one body. But how much longer am I going to have to be patient? I have thoughts far too often about how I’m going to be rehabbing this leg until the PTs just tell me to give it up and never run again. Or that I’ll be rehabbing a new injury every year until I die. It’s a defeatist mentality, and I don’t like it, and I know I’m improving slooooooooooowwwwwlyyyyyyyy, but the thoughts are there. I do have them.

I’ve been writing seriously for a few years now. I have four novels finished and two others in progress. Two of the finished ones have been through the beta and revision process and I am shopping them around. One of them I’ve been querying hard with agents.

I knew the query process was going to be difficult and that I was going to get rejection. I knew it was going to be long. I have three agents with the full manuscript right now, which is a great thing! The thing about them having the full, is that they’ll probably have it for months. And they could all still reject it. I do my due diligence when I’m querying and painstakingly research the agents and the agency before submitting. I personalize my query letters. I have a spreadsheet. And my little pail of patience.

If I were getting feedback, I could be working, revising, making changes to make the book more marketable, but I’m not. Thus far the rejections have been either immediate and in the guise of form letters, or more broad, in that they just don’t like fae fantasy or find it difficult to sell. Nothing to really change there. Nothing to work on. Just keep finding people to send it to, and keep waiting.

I wish I could run. Even when I’m able to start running again, I won’t be able to do the mileage I was doing when I stopped. I’ll have to do gradual run/walks for months. And when I do get feedback, then there’s the taking of the feedback, the revising, and the resubmitting. Or just the continual submitting until I’ve gotten a yes, or decided to give up and self publish this series.

I will run during a spring sunrise again. I WILL run during a spring sunrise again. And I will see a book published. One way or another.

I’m becoming a better writer. When I read my older work, even from last year, compared to what I’m putting out now, it’s clear. If this book doesn’t work, another one probably will. But I want this one to work.

I’m sure that I’ll be a stronger runner, if I ever get back to running again. (I will, I will, I will… but when…) But I want to run this summer. I’ve already missed two springs in a row. I don’t want to make it two summers. But I may not have a choice.

I was speaking to a good friend about this not too long ago, and she said, “I know you can’t see it right now, but I feel like there’s a reason that you’re not running.” And my personal beliefs align with that.

I’m starting to thing that this entire season, the warm season, my favorite season, the season where I like to go and do and attack and conquer… may be about teaching me patience and stillness. My favorite forms of yoga are the most active, the most exhausting, the most all consuming. My brain must be completely focused on the challenging pose, only then do I get that amazing meditative savasana at the end. When I’m dripping with sweat and ready to collapse. This morning my physical therapist said that I need to take one day per week where I don’t do anything. No fast walking, no biking, nothing. (screams internally)

This is what an official PT prescription looks like.

Since the start of spring, I have been forced into patience. I have been forced to go slower, more mindfully, in every passion in my life.

I will hope that it’s not forever, and I will try to learn.