This post was going to be called banjaxed but I thought it might mean something else in the Basque country so I left it with a more obvious title.
In case you think this is some sort of Rodger Bannister story Ill put you at your ease now; this post will start out sad and get sadder (unless you’re my wife, in which case it’ll be a blessed relief).
Since my last long run 2 weeks ago (a 4 out of 10 in terms of zen-like long runs) I have been able to complete 5 miles of running over 3 runs. Each one starts out with me feeling like a powerhouse and fully tapered and ends with me looking like one of those new-to-running-stretching-the-calf-because-I’m-exhausted types who have all the gear and none of the fitness.
I’ve heard it said (on eurosport) that in endurance events the biggest muscle you have is your mind. My mind is super fit (i.e. I ‘m still convinced I can run 95 miles in June) but my body has pulled back on it’s tracksuit, climbed back into the car and is waiting for my mind to join it so we can embark on a long silent drive home (think husband-wife dynamic).
My husband (the mind) finally realised last week that the game was up as we walked back from a 1 mile run. My calf/achilles is not going to repair itself with the sort of pain I’m experiencing by just running through it. there’s no easing out or loosening up going on here. My mind has the sense to realise that the marriage between it and my body would be in serious trouble with an achilles injury.
So, while I have plenty of puppy-like enthusiasm for lining up at Milngavie in late June I have enough old-dog wisdom to know that it would end in both humiliation and serious pain.
I sent in my withdrawal request from the race this afternoon (after putting it off for over a week).
Am I sad about it?
Yes but not as sad as I thought I’d be.
I took the time to relish the races I’ve completed this year already so I have them banked. I realise that shed loads of training isn’t sustainable on my legs for 8 months so I can accept the injury and hope to come up with a plan to balance the running with staying injury free.
I don’t know what else to say except that I’ll have to fix the leg before I start dreaming of any more ridiculous running plans.
If you see me wearing those sexy school-girl knee high compression socks while out running you know I’m getting desperate for a cure.