“There goes the fear, let it go.”
Being injury prone brings about a kind of defeatist attitude. It’s easy to settle into a routine, and as long as it doesn’t hurt, I keep on plodding along.
I haven’t really tested myself for months, maybe even years. Staying within my comfort zone means that I am less likely to injure myself, or burn out and fall ill. When the injuries, and illness, occur, I have found it easy to get back to that easy routine.
My physio has been somewhat surprised by my seeming reluctance to push myself. Upon reflection, my own fear has been holding me back. As he says, I won’t know if I can’t do it, if I don’t try.
He was, of course, right. In the last couple of weeks. I’ve tried to push my weekly 5K run. The weather has meant that I’ve been able to do a couple of outdoor runs, and I wasn’t happy with my times. At some point, I want to start doing the local Park Run, but I don’t want to do it if I’m going to traipse in with a disappointing time. So the last two Saturdays, I’ve whacked up the speed in the treadmill to 2.5KPH above my comfort zone. I’ve had to turn it down, for the last 2K the first time, and the last 1.5K yesterday, but only slightly. It has shown that I can do it, and have improved in the first week. I actually beat my treadmill PB by 3 seconds, not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but considering how long ago that was, and the boost to my confidence, I’ll take it.
For my usual runs, I’ve also turned up the speed, and have found I’m comfortable with it. Better still, I’ve felt good. I feel like I’ve had a work out, not just gone through the motions. The adrenaline and endorphin kick is greater. I haven’t broken down, either.
It’s a good job, as the weight loss has plateaued. Getting so close to where I was is frustrating. But it’s daunting to think that my ideal racing weight is 3kg lighter than that. I’m not the unhealthiest of eaters, but I like my carbs and wine far too much, and I think I’d have to sacrifice those to reach that target. But cutting out carbs, when training for a half marathon seems to be counter-productive.
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As far as the injury goes, it would appear that it all stems from my dodgy right toe. It started clicking, when I was a kid. It was worse I the mornings, and the Daddy was so annoyed by hearing it, he dragged me to the doctors. Incidentally, the only other times he got so annoyed I was dragged to the doctors was for my persistent cough. It was a mystery when I was 10, but the day before my 17th birthday, I was diagnosed with exercise-induced asthma.
The Doc told me the clicking was because the cartilage had been dislodged, and it was nothing to worry about. So, for years, it clicked.
It stopped clicking a few years ago. I was actually quite pleased; it annoyed me, perhaps more than it annoyed the Daddy.
I had some ankle pain a few weeks ago, enough to make me abort a run. “Great,” I thought, “Tendonitis in my OTHER ankle”! I told the physio, who started digging into my calf. He pressed something, which made me jump. He then tried to bend back my toe, which had locked. That was why it wasn’t clicking. It turns out that as my big toe wasn’t bending, it meant my foot was over-compensating whilst running. It then, in turn, put pressure on my left leg, resulting in the piriformis getting injured, and then putting strain in the left ankle, resulting in tendonitis.
It has also mean that my arch is collapsing on landing. I have an insert to prevent that. I have to work on my toe flexibility. I can feel the difference; I never realised my toes were cramping.
You can also hear me walking around the house, first thing in the morning.
It’s a good job I don’t live with my parents.