My first half-marathon is approaching . . . and I’m half-injured
The running has been going fabulously . . . the most I’ve ever been able to run.
It feels light, and effortless (well, almost), and I made about 10 miles last Friday–10 miles up and down 2800 foot of elevation gain/loss spread out over four ridges in the hills outside of Irvine Park/Santiago Oaks. I thought it would be a good idea to pre-run the course, and it was a blast. I finished in 2:20 after power-hiking pretty much all of the uphills, just to make sure I could do it.
Sure there was a little calf soreness the next few days . . . to be expected . . . so I got out the old “Stick” roller and gently rolled out my calves a couple of times. Saturday and Sunday: two days of sitting through a conference. Monday: sit all day at work, then a short, easy run. Felt fine. Tapering for the race.
Tuesday: Sit to work at computer. Stand to teach. Sit some more.
Wednesday: swing my legs out of bed, step onto the floor, and . . . . (drum roll?) OUCH! The soft tissue between my achilles and heel is suddenly tight and on fire.
And there goes the $70 entry fee for the race that is only 10 days away.
On the bright side (and there always is, if you take off the reflective highway-patrol-officer shades), there is the fact that we got two days of rain, and there is mud and fog and mushrooms and wildflowers:
The solace of the trail, the cheeriness of wildflowers in my urban back yard, the kind words of family and friends who know how cranky not-running makes me: for all of these I am grateful.
. . . .and I am back to physical therapy and trying to figure out how to run in a way that is sustainable; barefooting alone is not a “magic bullet,” so I continue to learn about how our bodies are meant to move, even as I sit most of the day.