Last Saturday, I was in pain. Pain like I’d never felt. It was a pain in the, well, butt. I’ve suffered from hemorrhoids for years, as many fat guys do. We don’t talk about it because it is embarrassing and gross. There are clandestine visits to the drug store to find relief. We talk to the doctor a bit but really there isn’t much to do without drastic changes in lifestyle or surgery. And who wants surgery? Sometimes there is no choice.
It had started a couple of days before and gotten bad enough for me to go to the emergency room. And, just as I suspected, they said there wasn’t much they could do. They gave me a referral to a GI doc and I went there on Friday. He was more concerned and sent me to a surgeon.
The surgeon was running late by a couple of hours. There were some mistakes in relaying the availability. They saw the pain written all over me and, after many hours, the surgeon took a look.
He was more concerned. He was thinking there was an infection. I was admitted to the hospital and laid there waiting to be taken to the operating room. Turns out, I had a growth that was bigger than a golf ball. No wonder I was in the worst pain of my life. Thankfully, the mass was benign. Now, I’m in pain, not nearly as much, and on the road to recovery.
I must admit, one of the first thoughts I had was all the training I had done was for nothing. There would be no virtual half-marathon this weekend like I had planned with my Sub-30 peeps. There would be no half-marathon next week in Omaha. There may not be a virtual half in November either that I had planned on. Yeah, I had kind of gone all in to make my training worthwhile.
Once my mind cleared of the copious amounts of painkillers, I realized my training did pay off. The pain broke me. It would have been worse had I not been training consistently. The training made me mentally tougher and there is no doubt it helped.
The training made me physically fitter too, which is helping in my recovery. I have had my good moments and bad over the last week. It will continue to go that way while things heal. I mean, a mass bigger than a golf ball? What more can I expect?
Anyway, sometimes you don’t realize what you are training for. I believe my training is helping through all of this physical pain. I also believe the thought of training again soon keeps me going. I know I’ve run a lot of events in my head over the last week. There has to be some direct correlation between time spent recovering on the couch and the number of races I’ve considered signing up for.
It would be easy to get down on myself, and I have at times. This isn’t fun. I am blessed, though. The mass was BENIGN, and I will recover. There is way more to celebrate and so many more miles to run. I should just enjoy the rest while I can get it. Oh, and I should enjoy the extra weight loss because I’m finally under that elusive 200 pounds!