The Iceman

When I started on this quest to go from lazy to long-distanceer (I probably made that word up, just to warn you), I either assumed that I was invincible or forgot to consider that I was not.  Either way, I made the mistake of not taking into account that a) I don't have running shoes, just these guys, 40 dollars worth of nylon and minimal suede with a thin, uncoushioned sole

and b) the fact that I don't pay attention to (a) makes it that much easier to sustain a foot/ankle injury.  You see, my routes have always centered around side-streets and winding "no-outlet" roads and such, but there are parts of the route in which uneven grassy land is unavoidable (unless I liked the idea of being hit by cars).  Being an inexperienced runner and having the resulting unpolished stride and lack of "all-terrain" running knowledge, if I'm just pushing it for a half mile, pounding the ground, I do it the same for any terrain.  Silly me, for this allowed my weak foot (ol' lefty to me) to pound too hard, on too uneven a ground, and somehow hurt himself.  This is an injury that I have sustained before (though I don't remember how).  It's just at the midpoint of my foot, right on the outside, and stretches back to near the heal.  I noticed it after my session on Wednesday, but thought it was just soreness.  I iced it a little that day and walked more on the inside of that foot around campus yesterday.  I thought that if I could just stretch my foot back a little while stretching before today's run, and then run more on the inside of my foot (toward the arch), I'd be okay--at least for most of the run.  From the get-go, I could feel my foot yelling at me each time it dropped.  "Don't do this, you're not far, you can turn around!" he'd plead with me "When you slam me down on the ground, you're applying almost a ton of force upon me, it doesn't matter which part of my you favor, all of me feels it!"

Well, I politely told my foot to shove it and continued down the usual 5k path.  Around the end of the second mile, I encounter a long patch of uneven, slightly uphill grassland.  By that time, I had gotten accustomed to the persevering thud of my foot against the concrete and asphalt, but the grass and hard, bumpy dirt underneath was a different story.  Around that time, I had to stop.  I limp-jog/walked until I got off the grass, then legged it for the rest of the run on the asphalt.  Needless to say, no time improvement today.  But I have the quixotic hope that if I stay iced like T.I. and bring the heat like Gordon Ramsay for the duration of the weekend, I can do 4 miles on Monday.  Actually let me put that in terms that agree more with the approach that I've come to take with myself about working toward this goal.

I will ice my foot, and heat it accordingly this weekend.  Then on Monday morning, I will run 4 miles, whether I feel up to it or not.  Whatever happens afterward is totally open, but as for what will occur after I stretch and step out the door until I return to my front door, I cannot waver on that.