Injured in action

I've sustained an injury.

If I told you that I’d sustained this on my first training run you wouldn’t believe me. You’d think I was making it up for a witty ‘silly old me’ blog post. The problem is that I’m not making it up.

I’ve done something to my foot. This does not sound too serious until you realise that the walking process relies heavily on really being able to put your full weight on your foot. If you do not do this, your knee develops an injury too.

By proxy I've hurt my knee.

And it was going so well. I ran 1.8 miles according to my Nike app. I say ‘ran’, I mean I survived. Ok, so I had to sit on a bench by the river for a couple of minutes after a mile, and yes I was somewhat thwarted by a stitch in my right side. And fine, I walked a bit. BUT, it was my first run and as I felt the bottom wobbling was under control, I had deemed it a success.

I should have known the next day I would be unable to walk, let alone run. 

This is not my first exercise related injury. I have a weak ankle after a mountaineering sprain. A dodgy knee from a previous attempt to run places. And I’ve never quite recovered psychologically after falling off a cliff whilst abseiling.

I should probably just stay at home. Safe and sound.

For now I’ll hobble off to see someone who knows what’s wrong with it, and will eat cake and curse the day I ever considered self-improvement.

Navy Pants: A conversation with a school friend

Hannah: I saw on your blog that you’re going to run a half marathon - well done you. I wish I could do something like that.

Me: Gee thanks, but you totally could too. Come on, do it with us. (Have already become running evangelist and bore when unable to run one mile.)

Hannah: No really, couldn’t do it. Not a runner. Can’t run fast enough. In fact, run at half the speed of Usain Bolt. (Seems very specific quip)

Me: What?

Hannah: Yes, I remember when I ran the 100 metres at school in 1996. It took me 18 seconds. Usain can run it in 9.

Me: Doesn’t seem that slow to me.

Hannah: Well that was when I was 12. I'm not sure could maintain that speed now. Anyway -you would say that – you ran it in 14.

Me: 14? (Wonder how I have forgotten this fact and mourn missed opportunity of athletics career.)

Hannah: Yes, 14 seconds. I remember thinking how fast you were. I also remember you doing the long-jump and falling face down into the sand.

Me: Oh. (Imaginary athletics career comes to abrupt end.)

Hannah: Do you remember the navy pants?

Me: Yes. I have still not recovered.

(Navy pants were the gym briefs our school forced us to wear for athletics. Our all girls school field shared a fence with the local comp. Our lunch breaks fell at different times, which meant our athletic attempts were often witnessed by large crowds of the neighbouring school. Who heckled. The school told us it was character building.) 

Hannah: Ah, it was character building.

Me: If you say so.

Hannah: You know this half marathon, you’re running it with Nat aren’t you?

Me: Yes.

Hannah: Oh, it’s just that I can remember her in athletics too. Yes, I remember her doing the 800 metres and throwing up at the end of it.

Me: Great. (we’re both going to die and will never make it.)

Hannah: You know, you could always run it in navy pants. 

Fair weather jogger

I have agreed to do something unthinkable.

I have signed up for a half marathon. This really is remarkably out of character, and the only reason I am writing about it is to ensure that I don’t shamelessly bail out. 

Dear reader, please do not think I am becoming one of ‘those’ people. You know the ones – they wax lyrical about how wonderful running makes them feel and use words like ‘free’ and ‘rush’ and ‘relaxed. I feel none of the above. I feel only sweaty, red in the face, and closer to death than I’d ordinarily like.

No I am not one of those people. I rarely feel the need to push myself, experience any kind of burn or commit to punishing schedules. In fact, now I am wondering how I can get out it - I do have an old knee injury come to think of it.

In January a friend announced that he was going to run the Great North Run this September. He has just emigrated to Australia. I wonder if I will go to similar lengths to avoid my ordeal?

Surprisingly this will not be my first race. A few years ago I ran a 10k. Well I say ran, jogged is a far more representative verb. Anyway, at the end of the run (no doubt due to endorphins and hysteria) I felt like I could have kept going. Please remember that it is very easy to say that you could have kept going once you are wrapped in tin foil and sipping lucozade. It is on this hunch, 3 years ago, that I ‘could have plodded on a little further’, that I have signed up to run 13 blooming miles.

This is a disaster.  

                            

I will be humiliated as my bottom wobbles in my joggers. I will become a running bore who is only able to talk about ‘distance tracking’. I will probably have to do a little more than download the Nike Plus app and buy a new running bra. But that can wait until tomorrow, I've made a start at least.