Self diagnosis

I'm definitely not a doctor... I don't even play one on TV but I've learned a lot about myself as I've worked out and started eating better. It wasn't intentional but something about focusing on being better makes you understand yourself on a whole new level. Some of this I already knew to some level but I'm starting to put it all together.

In high school tore up tendons in my jaw from a soccer ball to the face and got a black eye. Played through them both and was proud of my battle scars. In college I spent four hours a day in the gym on a regular basis to train for drum major of the Michigan Marching Band and I blew out both knees in the process. In the MMB I dented my ankle bone and tore up cartiledge. After a year of recovery and crutches, I ran my first marathon. Fractured my foot and back on crutches I was but I did get my medal. Ran a second marathon to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and because it sounded like fun. While training for my third marathon my lungs decided it was their turn to speak up. Still on medication for the inflammation across my entire ribcage, I have no one to blame but myself. Working out too hard caused the same kind of inflammation you'd get in say your hamstring only it is across my ribs and lungs causing difficulty breathing and heart-attack-like painful muscle spasms.

Through all of the injuries and difficulties, I couldn't let them stop me. I had to keep going. I pushed through and more often than not, got worse before I got better...if ever at all. Now trying to recover from the lung condition I find myself frustrated and pushing myself more than ever. I've run two marathons, how could I be having difficulties with 20 minute workouts? I can't possibly be out of shape. Any SANE person would know that recovery takes a while especially when recovering from something that affects the core of human vitality. Accepting that fact means accepting that I'm not sane. Which brings me back to my first statement... I'm definitely not a doctor... I don't even play one on TV. But I have a diagnosis and confession: I am an OCD Masochist with a Superman Complex.

Sounds like fun, doesn't it? It's a wicked combination...just ask my knees, ankle, lungs, shoulders, jaw... you get the idea. Unfortunately all three elements of my self diagnosis work with each other far too well. The OCD part makes me more obsessive than the average Jane when it comes to my goals - when I set one or decide something...from running a particular race to what I'm going to wear even just relaxing at home, I tear things apart (body, closet...) to accomplish them. The masochist part means that when I do end up tearing up my body to accomplish something, I - on some twisted level - enjoy it. The pain gives me some kind of satisfaction and when I don't feel pain of some kind, I feel like I haven't accomplished anything. And the Superman Complex? Pretty self explanatory, don't you think? I'm convinced (partially thanks to the OCD part) that I can do anything. Not anything within reason - just anything.

OCD Masochist with a Superman Complex. OCDMS. Fun. Still trying to learn to be calm which could probably help all elements of this and give me a chance to recover from everything. In my little world I still have 20 lbs to lose and 48 marathons to run. Not sure which of either of those will happen but I need to try. Have to try. If I want to keep my sanity, I have to try. Have to push myself. To stay sane I have to cater to the insanity. Have I mentioned I'm a little twisted?