I think the worst thing that can happen to somebody training for a goal (or really anybody motivated to workout) is something uncontrollable, for instance, an injury. Okay maybe injuries aren’t completely uncontrollable, but nobody goes out seeking them. They kind of sneak up on you. Most likely you’re in denial that you’re injured. You keep doing what you always do until finally something makes you think “Hmm… that weird uncomfortable feeling is still here. Could I be… injured? Well shit. I think I am.” And then you’re just stuck figuring out where to go from there.
I’ve been dealing with a slight strain (hi, self diagnosis) in my right groin since finishing the race a week and a half ago. Eh, minor details after pulling a race like I did for me. After a light few days, it was still a little sore after completing a run but it’d be silly to expect zero pain less than a week later, at least for somebody with my level of mileage (read: not that much).
Yesterday I met up with some running friends and my goal was about 5 miles “easy”. James and I stuck together for 4 miles, I lead our pace based on effort at a conversational pace. I kept glancing at the Garmin just out of curiosity because I felt fast and yep, I was running pretty fast for a conversational pace according to my previous runs… but it was still just that — conversational. It felt great. It was easily the best run I’ve had since finishing the half 8 days ago (that sounds ridiculous, I shouldn’t have had any good runs any sooner than 8 days!). So James cut out after 4 miles, I finished up my workout with a burst of energy and covered the last mile in 7:14 (after 4 miles averaging 8:15 comfortably).
I was ecstatic finishing it up, but I was paying for it pretty much right afterwards. The stupid, awful strain I felt after my race was back. It certainly isn’t even close to as bothersome as it was then, but it’s enough for me to prefer taking the elevator instead of the stairs. Now, I’m just sad and disappointed because I was so looking forward to a new strength training workout tonight. I’d likely be still going if I wasn’t convinced otherwise from my man. I suppose he’s right — taking care of a nagging annoyance before it blows up into something bigger is ultimately the best choice if I want a great summer. Why does he have to be the sensible one?
So here I sit with a bag of ice down my pants instead. Do you know how cold this is?