Hello!

If you're still here and reading, hello! Sorry for the extended absence. I haven't had much to write about on a blog primarily devoted to running, seeing as I haven't run in 19 days. That's my longest bout of not running in quite a while, and it's going to continue for another month.

I was officially diagnosed with a stress fracture in my right leg about 3 weeks ago, and I've been in a very attractive boot since then. My orthopedist said no running, cycling, or swimming, in the interest of healing as quickly as possible. Admittedly, nothing feels quick about this. I have one more week in the boot. Once I'm out of it, I have a week to go before I can begin cycling and swimming. Two weeks of cross-training and I can start running again. Slowly. That's going to take a lot of discipline to not add the miles too quickly.

I've been trying to figure out how I got here, as a stress fracture is typically an injury of overuse. I was adding my miles gradually and really wasn't changing the frequency of my runs, so the only culprit left is speed. I didn't know speed could be a culprit, but it makes sense. I really didn't do any legitimate speedwork, but I was running faster miles. Plus, those sub-8:00 miles I would bust out at the end of some of my runs may not have been all that great for me. Who knew? (Well, I'm sure plenty of people knew, but I wasn't one of them.)

To add insult to injury, literally, I have been unable to find a buyer for my marathon bib, which leaves me out $95. I went from having two potential buyers to none, which is rather disappointing. This makes for the second race I've paid for and not run in the last year -- that's not cool, especially since I'm in grad school. I'd like to run the Baltimore Marathon in the Fall, so I think I just have to close my eyes, bite the bullet and sign up, because running a marathon is one of my goals for 2012; and I'm not going to give up this easily. Even if I can't eat for a month because my grocery money pays a race fee! (Ok - that's a total exaggeration, obviously. Don't worry!) Another goal was to finish the year with 1,000 miles under my belt shoes, so I'm very anxious to get back to running. I don't know if I can cover the 1,000 while recovering from an injury, but I'm sure going to try.

The goal now is to train smarter, not necessarily harder, which means I'll be incorporating more strength-training into my regime. For now, though, I can only dream about running, which I do, regularly.

Day 94 - Blerg, Nertz, Shark Farts, and Other Liz Lemon Expressions of Discontent

The view from here - RICE (rest, ice,
compress, and elevate)

Today I ran a total of .68 miles before I knew I was being foolish. Actually, I knew I was making a foolish decision as soon as I set out, but I've been ignoring that voice for a while. My stubbornness is astounding. I have handled this potential arch/calf pain with as little seriousness as possible, hoping it would just go away and ignoring it when it didn't. After all, nothing hurt during my runs, only after. And inconsistently throughout the day. I tried to elevate and ice it away, to no avail.

About 10 steps into today's planned 8-miler, I knew running was a bad idea. I can taste the marathon, which is a month away now. I keep thinking, "I'll just finish training and run the race, and then I'll tend to this pain." Today I even told a friend, out loud, that though my leg was hurting I was going to stick it out until the race and then probably be in a boot. That's dramatic, especially since I have no medical proof of what's wrong or that it would lead to a boot; but the sentiment behind that statement is so Leslie of me. I'll just push myself until I run into the ground, and I'll stop when I literally have no other choice.

So I'm stopping, which actually now takes more discipline than running 40 miles each week. That's weird. I'll rest for the next few days and see how I feel before starting again. In the words of 30 Rock's Liz Lemon: "Nertz! ... Shark Farts!"

Day 76 - The Day Running Broke Me

Distance and pace are insignificant here, just know that I didn't meet my goal for today. But something important did happen.

Today was a beautiful day in Baltimore, and I was excited to run. I headed out toward the airport, where there is a paved trail that circles the airport grounds. It's about 12 miles around, so I planned to run the full circle and then do an out-and-back on a portion of it to get in my full miles. I was excited, too, because I'd be running with GU for the first time.

Other than a few sore muscles from yesterday's Pilates class, I started off feeling good about running. Still, I was struggling to keep target pace. In fact, I was struggling to stay in the 9:15-9:30 range, which is a good 15-30 seconds slower than where I normally run for long runs. This was disheartening and compounded by some lower GI issues and some side cramping. I pressed on. Then, everything sort of fell apart.

I felt like I didn't know where I was or that I'd taken a wrong turn. I was winded. I couldn't pick up my pace. I was lonely. I didn't want to be running anymore. Eventually, the melodramatic side of my brain convinced the rational side that I was lost (on a circular trail, mind you) and that I would never make it home, or at least that the sun would set before I could make it back to my car. And I was despondent.

But only for a moment, because I soon realized how ridiculous (and wrong) it was that I was so upset about not getting in the miles I'd planned. It would be okay to be disappointed about that, because it's kind of a bummer; but I felt like a failure. Not just a failure as a runner, but a failure. That was when I knew that somewhere in the last few weeks, especially since I'd started upping my mileage, running had become something I didn't want it to be -- a priority above the rest, a god, an idol. It began to define me, and I began to derive from it a sense of self-efficacy that should only come from an identity sure in the Lord.

I sat down on a bench, regrouped and prayed, and continued on. I was still feeling directionally challenged, but I was able to pick up my speed a bit. I thought I might be able to make it the full miles I'd intended, but then I realized that the point of my miserable run's lesson was that my greatest discipline and obedience be rightly placed, not misplaced toward running. I'm not to be mastered by running, because in the end it's just another thing that I do.

So, I stopped. And tomorrow, with my priorities better placed, I will finish the mileage.