The Running Gods Are Smiting Me

crap [krap]
noun
1. vulgar : nonsense, rubbish

This was my first thought yesterday as, half-way through my 8-mile planned run, I began to feel pain directly below the site of my outer ankle. Or, what foot physicians refer to as peroneal tendonitis.

It began as an ache, really, that grew progressively worse over the course of several days. I, of course being the stupid individual that I am, blew it off as a minor thing that might accompany the stress of the 50+ miles a week I regularly run.

I was very wrong.

I've gone through injuries before, most noteably last summer. I was inflicted by tendonitis near the inner ankle, followed by two weeks off from running. A week later, I got a repetitive stress injury that came frighteningly close to a stress fracture. Thus, 6 weeks of no running was in my future, which meant 6 weeks of intense training on the stationary bike. Because I went back to running too soon, with the permission of my far-from-knowledgable-about-running podiatrist, this stress injury plagued me for many months after its onset.

This spring, it fully healed and I was running with an attitude of iron. Or perhaps of titanium alloy. You see, I was the "bionic woman," training as hard as ever. No injury could even catch me.

Unfortunately, yesterday was the moment of brutal realization: I am as susceptible to injuries. My bionic facade has been crushed, and my far-from-machine-like body has brought me to remember the physical and mental anguish of injury.

Today is a scheduled rest day, making it mentally easier to not run, but what about the day after that? And the day after that? I will evaluate my situation on a day-to-day basis, but in the face of denial, I realize deep inside that this may require a week or more to heal.

Perhaps not running as a result of injury should be dealt with the same mental strength as running. Instead of putting my energy towards running, I must temporarily direct it towards cross-training (i.e. biking) and healing.

There will be ups and downs along the way - times when I want so dearly to succumb to my running addiction - but for the betterment of my training, it is a duration as necessary to my training as a long run.

I may come back to read my own writing tomorrow, the next day...however many days I am out of commission. I need to take my own advice and put aside the hardcore runner within me until my peroneal tendons decide to cooperate.

Regardless of how I'm talking tomorrow, ranting on about my anger towards the running gods who seem to have so quickly turned on me, I will accept my fate as an oppurtunity to grow. Ironically, I posted a while ago about the meaning of patience. Looks like this is my chance to practice some.

"Happy Winds-day" -Winnie the Pooh

Winnie the Pooh said it best. The winds were blowing pretty hard today from the North, which I ran through for most of the 8.5 miles I covered. Although, I'm thankful I can say, "BUH-BYE!" to the malevolent arctic weather we've had this past week. And while I'm at it, I might as well tell it to not come back.


Considering I do 2-a-day runs, I figured why not do a 2-a-day posting? It was a recovery run day, so I decided to try bringing my camera with me and have some photo fun while I was at it.Between the occasional pause and picture snap, I thought about impatience. I know it's a mindset that plagues me and many others, so I wondered how I got so into the sport of running.

It takes patience to pound out the many miles required to hone your fitness and hit the PR's we all strive for. It also takes patience to do speedwork as you run through the incessant, nagging part of your brain that wants to stop to cease the tsunami of fatigue. During long runs, which can last anywhere from 1-3 hours, it takes serious mental strength simply to occupy oneself with positive and introspective thoughts. Is impatience our attempt to push a fast-forward button on life, for which none exist?

Are we impatient throughout our lives to get through our lives? Do we run through life as if it is a race feeling the same impatience with which we regard that familiar feeling of fatigue? Maybe life is the one place we shouldn't apply our racing skills. Perhaps in the race of life, we should slow down to a walk. Or perhaps even pause for a couple of moments.

Instead of racing through life, maybe we should try to embrace that virtue that so many of us lack - patience. Steps off soapbox.