A Week Off.

(yes, I know this cover photo has absolutely nothing to do with the post, but Wordpress is not letting me upload any new pics right now, so I'm recycling an old photo.  And I like cupcakes). Under the direction of my PT and my own best judgment, I took 6 days off from running.  This isn't something that I wanted to do--it was something I HAD to do.  The pain in my knee/leg/calf was getting worse and worse, and was showing up sooner and sooner during my runs.  I crashed and burned last Sunday on my 10 miler.

Since I could trace the reintroduction of this pain ("oh, hi again, pain") back to around a month ago on a 10 mile run in which about 4 of those miles were done on uneven road shoulders, the PT pretty much locked in on the fact that my pain is due to an inflamed IT band.

I was semi-relieved to hear this, since I've never had a formal diagnosis.  My problems have always been chalked up as general muscle tightness and poor mechanics.  The IT band issue is most definitely brought on by muscle tightness and poor mechanics, but at least now I feel like we can identify the source of the pain itself.

Although I didn't run last week, I made it a point to still sweat a lot.  I spent many (many) miles on the Expresso bike at the gym, (since I don't have a big girl bike yet), and lemme tell you; that thing is no joke.  On Tuesday, I had a 10 mile run planned, so I spent 20 miles and about 1.5 hours on that damn bike.  My ass was hur-ting on Wednesday.

When I got off of the bike, a gym employee asked me how long I was on it, and then told me I was "insane".

Not insane, just injured.  So now rather than running my 10 miles outside in crazy fashion, I have to ride 20 on a bike where other people can see me.  And how long I've been on it.  Thus, displaying my variety of crazy for all to see.

Does anyone else experience this "you so crazy" phenomenon from non-sweaters?

If so, you know the drill.  This phrase is uttered as they shake their head in amazement.

I don't mind being crazy, but I wish that I would've cashed in my crazy this past week  on running rather than biking.  There was a lot of damn biking.

Today was my first attempt at running since the crash and burn.  I rode 10 miles of moderate rolling hills first on the bike, then walked a mile on the treadmill to get my legs on board with the motion.  After that, I ran 2 miles at about a 10:30 pace.  This is actually pretty fast for me, and I was feeling confident.

It was fun.

But I didn't want to push it.  Especially since I could feel the twinges in my hip and fibular head...a friendly warning that the pain is about to be brung.

Bring it.

I stopped at 2.25 miles, wishing that I could run farther, but concerned that if I did, my leg might fall off.  I know that I am not going to be better for the marathon--it's only 20 days from today.  Next weekend is my last opportunity to get a 20-miler in before the taper.   I will be supplementing in some running this week along with a lot of hard-core biking, but I've come to terms with my fate.

I'm just going to have to wing it, friends.  Hopefully adrenaline will carry me at least 15 miles--I can crawl from there.

I'm not going to finish in 4:30 like I had originally planned on doing.  I'll probably be lucky to finish in 6:00.

Although I'm not even slightly excited about coming in at 6 hours, I'll take any finish I can get at this point.  As long as the sweepers don't come through and roll me in, I'll be happy.

Ok.

Maybe not 'happy', per se.

Satisfied.


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