I feel that my ankle has finally recovered. Ok that's the good news out of the way.
I managed to follow up my root canal with a cold, and my running came to a complete halt for the week.
On Sunday, after a full week without so much as a fartlek, I lined up for the 10 km River Run. A lot of things run through my mind, and I often keep them to myself. This day was no different, my mind was occupied with the many thoughts that I keep to myself. This allows me to hold the illusion of sanity just that little bit longer.
The Only Normal People Are the Ones You Don't Know Very Well. - Joe Ancis
As I queued for the pre-race bathroom visit, I wondered if the seat would be warm (I hate this). I also wondered if eating beans the night before was a good idea. I did a pre-race warm up, and noticed how tight my left calf felt. I built up to doing some strides, and all seemed ok. I wasn't feeling particularly fresh, and perhaps I was a little flat. I wondered if I would be able to breathe properly, and if I was sufficiently clear of my cold.
Starting the race, I was holding pace comfortably with 4:04 for the first kilometre. The next marker came 4:14 and I was tracking close to the goal of 4:10s, which Coach Pat had assigned to me.
Quite an uneventful race continued. And although I concentrated on maintaining pace, I noticed that I had to increase my effort. By half way, I wasn't particularly confident of achieving anything special on the day, and settled to ensure that, at the least, I wasn't going to drop off too much.
As I was just upon the 8 km marker, my left calf went.
PING! I felt a sharp pain with each step. A few more steps and I started to walk. Walking wasn't that painful, but a couple of attempts to run were. I felt that nothing would be gained by injuring myself any further.
Missing out on this race meant little to me.
... and then I thought about it some more.
* There is not much time left to recover before the Melbourne Marathon in 3 weeks.
* I can't go through the pain of a marathon with a torn calf again like last year.
I just can't!* Any chance of running my best in Melbourne is now gone.
In the 2 km to the finish line, over 400 runners passed me. It was the longest 2 km in my life.
By the time I walked in, I had convinced myself that my marathon hopes and all the training in preparation had evaporated. Give me a root canal any day.
I started to turn things around in my mind. What can I do now? Is there something I wasn't doing because of the dedication to my training?
Katy and I went down the beach. I enjoyed a swim in the surf, and started to feel much better.
