Only six more weeks or so until DH comes home. I'm excited about that, big time. And I've got my hopes up again about my foot. I know I'll crash with a big bang if I don't get back to TKD, but I'm determined.
I'm fairly certain it'll get better. He fixed the bit so that I'm not causing the bones to grate against each other, so that's cool. Now that I know I'm not injuring my foot by doing the exercises, I can help make it better myself. I've been doing them about three hours a day (while doing other things). And icing it a lot so the swelling stays fairly under control.
But it all begs the question: is it wise to get one's hopes up?
Afterall, it hurts when our hopes are dashed. I think my first instinct is to hope less so that it hurts less if I fail. The past year, I could barely think about TKD because it would depress me. And so I stopped hoping, locked that part away from me.
After the roller coaster ride of last week, I'm back to hoping big time, but with a little knot of fear in my stomach. Doesn't matter. I'm going to work my foot a lot. Sometimes just being able to put one's energy in one direction helps a ton.
It would be SO cool if I could get back to TKD soon. He said maybe six weeks. Six weeks! Can you imagine? That would be AWESOME. I've already got TKD classes penned into my calendar.
Remember how when you were young, it wasn't "cool" to want something really bad? How even if you did, you "played it cool"?
Well, I don't mind falling flat on my face again. I mean, think about it: even if you're falling flat on your face, you're still going forward.
All this makes me think I should be feeling this passionately about getting published by New York. Shouldn't I be bawling my eyes out at times? Shouldn't I be riding a roller coaster?
I don't know.
Do you ride a roller coaster on your writing journey? Is it inspiring, or does it drain your hope and motivation away, little by little?
Anyway, I swear, just yesterday, I was thinking this was going to happen:
Olympic Gold medalist Michael Phelps' BUILT TO SUCCEED, promising to reveal the secrets of his success and go behind the scenes of his approach to training, competition, and winning, built around a narrative thread of the eight final swims of the 2008 Olympic games, with anecdotes about his family, his coach, his passion for the sport, and lessons learned from unexpected challenges and obstacles (he was raised by a single mother and overcame a diagnosis of ADHD), to Dominick Anfuso at Free Press, for publication in December 2008, by Scott Waxman and Farley Chase at the Waxman Literary Agency, in association with Peter Carlisle of Octagon.
Heck, I want to read it, can't wait to read it. Sheesh, and I'll get to read it in four months? Wow! Talk about turnaround. Here's an article on Michael Phelps' Gold Medal "Secrets."
It's a bit of a duh, but it's still interesting. Basically, it says that he hit success by doing what other people were unwilling to do.
Amen to that. That's one thing I think the chiro didn't get about me. He talked to me like I might not do the exercises, and I was trying to ask how long could I do the exercises. I don't think he was getting that I would do them for ten hours a day if it would make my foot better quicker, and that I needed to know when I should stop doing them.
I've already got the two hour walk penned in for this evening. If my foot doesn't get better, it certainly won't be for lack of effort on my part.