Recovery Continues

I keep checking the SLUGs webpage for final times and pictures. In the meantime, I'm still recovering. Still stiff and sore, but I've been much worse. Still no focus or concentration. I think I'm dealing with two sources of depression, and unfortunately they are both going to have to be dealt with at the same time.

There's the post-race depression. This usually follows the big races that had a long lead-in training time. Or high expectations. It's a feeling of emptiness and lack of drive. For the past 4.5 months, I've been preparing for this race! And now it's over, just like that! I've managed this depression before, and I'm pretty certain that it'll wear off quickly. It's the beginning of the year, so the next big race is just around the corner, so to speak.

Then there's the loss of our family member, Scully. By coincidence, she's been sick 4.5 months, since the first weekend in December. Funny how these two events tracked with each other. We devoted so much time to the dog even before she got sick, but afterwards life revolved around her. I'd get up early to swim so I could be home before DH left for work, so Scully wouldnt be home alone. I skipped afternoon workouts to be with her. I cut short weekend sessions to let her out. In the end, it was maybe good for me since I didn't need to be putting in any more hours training than I was already. But just like I eat to train, I was training to care for her. Training provided a break, however brief, from the minute to minute caring for her.

In retrospect, I now see just how much time went to her, how much thought, and how much energy. She'd wake me up at 4:30am and want out, then want food. She had to be drugged at the same time. Then I'd either carry back to bed, where she'd stay until DH got up, or, if I wasn't training, I'd sit with her to keep her resting until DH got up. Then walkies if she was up to it. Then some personal time before I left for work. During the day, either DH or I would go home over lunch to check her. Then I'd be home early to let her out, repeating a similar routine as the morning: personal time, sitting to keep her quiet, feeding, drugging, carrying, etc. It got to the point that I couldn't even go to the basement without making her anxious. So a lot of sitting with her, to let her rest and keep quiet. All that was in the hope of her getting better with more rest.

Yet her decline continued, rest or no rest. Some days were good, others bad. Some days a scare for what was next, others a joy to see her upbeat and happy again. It was an emotional roller-coaster.

And now the ride is over.

Today I woke up to no dog. No food, no fresh water, no drugs. No spoonful of peanut butter. I sat at the counter like habit taught me, but even in the need to be quiet I stayed quiet. I just sat there. Lost.

Unfortunately, this will be a big rest week for me and I won't be getting up for training. Leaving me to sit quietly. Lost. Alone in thought, holding back a tide of emotion.

And while this blog isn't about the dog, it is about me, and obviously this will affect me for the next few weeks. So bear with me as I grapple with this loss, work out the emotional issues, and learn a new routine to live by. And as I learn to live not as a caregiver devoted to someone I love, but as a ....

That's the part that gets me. What will I be next? While I had her, even before she was sick, I had a reason to go home early, a reason to cut short a weekend session, a reason to be home. Now I don't have to run home for anything. I can work all I want. Train all I want.