Good Minutes and Bad Minutes

How are you doing?

I get that question more often now that I'm experiencing these physical problems. Friends and family are genuinely concerned about my welfare, and sincerely wish the best for me. I only wish I could provide an answer that wouldn't evoke further sympathy. I really don't want sympathy; as a runner, I really want respect from non-runners, and fear from other runners. But none of that will happen anytime soon. I do try to appreciate the affection and concern that I do receive.

Those of us who suffer from various maladies will sometimes answer the question with, 'I have good days and bad days.' For various reasons, it's often quite true; I've been known to say it myself at times. But as of late, I've modified it a bit. To be slightly more specific, I've been explaining that I have good hours and bad hours, and now it's even more granular: good minutes and bad minutes.

Being in pain means less work getting done. It means not being physically able to do the things that one formerly took for granted. It means thinking of precious little else than the pain iteself. Having good minutes and bad minutes means that sometimes that pain is all-encompasing, and other times I feel almost normal. And these moments seem to wax and wane at surprisingly brief intervals.

I would like to be able to say that the pain is subsiding a bit. I continue to try to strengthen my back by various careful exercises, to be otherwise careful and to take ibuprofen as needed. But I'm not entirely sure how it's really going. All I can say for certain is that this is a good minute...

Since I've already touched on this subject at least once, I promise to not waste too much more of your bandwidth, other than possibly another update in the next week or two. Then I'll start the big push.