This quote has as much literal meaning as it does motivational to me.:
Over the last few months, I feel like I have been cast to be in this famous story with regards to my ability to run:
I didn't realize I had sprained it (I thought the pain and stiffness was just a bruise). I went to see a doctor a couple weeks later, and he diagnosed it. He told me I could run, just use pain as my guidance. I removed long distance and speed runs from the next week, and felt like I was improving slowly. Then I got a stomach flu and missed the next 10 days. I took this as a blessing in disguise, 10 days rest will be great for my ankle!
We are now at the week of the Shamrock shuffle. I knew I had to try to shake off dust and get at least one sustained speed test in that week. After 4 days of easy runs, I had to test my ankle and fitness. Both were not there. Race didn't happen. I ended up taking my daughter to the zoo (with the jogging stroller), thinking I could enjoy an easy pace and split up the run.
I didn't think the run through enough. Running into the wind with a jogging stroller put a lot of pressure on my ankle and set me in pain. Now we start the horrible next month or so of rebound running. I would rest 5-10ish days, make sure all the pain was gone, pass the hop test, get all sorts of excited, thinking this would be my return.. and 1 or 2 short runs later, I was in pain again.
Finally, my left ankle stopped hurting (it was a little tight, but improving), but now my right ankle gave me pain after 35-40 minutes of running, and set me limping for a few days after (right side was overcompensating). Rebound running again.
Mentally, I'm getting pissed, frustrated, and defeated. I know I can't complain, I'm not unique in the matter, everyone gets hurt. I just hate it being such a blurry injury that teases me into thinking I'm healthy. I take another week off, see the doctor and accept a physical therapy recommendation. I go ahead and try to run again just because I had no symptoms, and suffer the same consequences.
Now with the weather turning. the city has been filled with runners . I have to avert my eyes, my frustration builds. Remembering how just as I got injured, I was getting into some new area of sustained running speed that I didn't have last year. I wanted that back, and I want to improve so far beyond that.
As the blog post started, you fall to learn to pick yourself back up. Apparently, I wasn't done falling...Literally.
My physical therapist (same one I had last year during my Chicago Marathon training) put me on rest while she bruised my legs and ankles with Graston tools and works on getting my fibularis longus back into place. I didn't mind the pain, as it validated my complaints stemmed from an injury and were not imagined, and that they can be improved upon.
What could happen during this rest right?
Well apparently, I can sprain my MCL on my right knee! I went out to the Zombie Pub Crawl and fell of a stage while doing a dance that has you hop 90 degrees every verse to repeat the dance. (Note: There was a curtain behind the stage, which I thought was just covering a wall.. not space for me to fall) My right leg stage on the stage and get bent a bad way.
|Pre fallen zombie|
To sum this up, I'm obviously Batdad. And as soon as I get out of this injury dungeon (thanks Bane), there will be hell to pay on my running shoes.