This is really stupid, but I spent most of the last two weeks freaking out about my dentist appointment.
It had been…a while. Two years maybe? Not nearly as bad as the time I let it go 5+ years, but bad enough.
I hate going to the dentist. It’s irrational, because obviously they are trained professionals, but having people all up in my grill with their bright lights and pointy sticks makes my palms sweat. A couple of years ago when I had to have a root canal, they had to Xanax me because I was shaking and sweating and squirming so much. I just can’t help it.
What is actually happening at the dentist is this:
But what I see is this:
It’s beyond dumb, but try as I may, I cannot view those dental tools – the sharp poky things and whizzy spinning things – as anything other than devices that could potentially maim me.
And then the sweating starts.
But I knew I had something wonky going on with one of my old fillings, so I finally sucked it up and made the appointment.
Of course, both the hygienist and dentist were nothing but warm, friendly, and professional. During the OMG WHAT IS THAT HORRIBLE SCRAPING NOISE HOLY CRAP IT’S COMING FROM MY MOUTH portion of the cleaning, I asked for a towel to rub against my clammy palms. I kneaded the towel like a cat, closed my eyes, and tried to imagine that I wasn’t in the middle of a limestone quarry. It sort of worked.
It’s funny how I have no problem inflicting discomfort upon myself (for instance, last night’s track set – more about that in a minute) but I cannot tolerate other people inflicting it upon me.
That’s going to suck when I have to go back next week for a(nother) crown. My third. I guess I am collecting them. Like some sort of imperial conquistadora.
At least I don’t have to have a root canal this time. The nerve of the tooth is fine; it’s just that the manky old filling is too big to repair or replace.
Ugh. Who wants to slip me some Xanax?
Anyway. Yesterday’s track workout was a fun one. (A million time more fun than a dental cleaning.) In a rare departure from 800s and 400s, we were assigned a medley-ladder of sorts: 800, 2X400, 3X200, 2X100, repeat.
100M! That’s like a game.
This workout flew by. Even though we were on the track for almost 90 minutes (between warm up and cool down, all the recovery time that comes with lots of intervals, and post-run stretch), it never felt like a grind.
That doesn’t mean it was easy, though.
By the time I got my butt halfway down that backstretch, Bolt would’ve been almost finished. Crazy!
The sprints were fun, but the 800s and 400s were the meat of the workout and I was happy with how I ran them. Of course, pacing was a little tricky on the second set. Fresh off an all-out sprint, I felt totally weird on that second 800. I was sure I was going way too fast or way too slow, but it turned out that I was right on. I guess my legs knew what to do, even though my lungs were still burning from the shorter stuff.
Between the last pair of 400s, one of my friends told me I looked like I was running strong. I thanked him and said that I felt like I was going to puke.
I love track work outs.
Recovery run this morning, then back to boot camp tomorrow. I’ve been in the habit of tacking an easy 2-3 mile run on to the end of boot camp classes, but now that it’s getting (slightly) cooler in the evenings, I want to start to increase the distance of those runs a little. I’ve been hanging out at 25 MPW for most of the summer; I’m ready to start building back up a bit!