lindsayrunning

Today I ran the second slowest half marathon of my life and I couldn't be happier.

I finished the Toronto Women's Half Marathon in 2:44, well off my best of 1:48, but I was tough.  If Dumbledore were to give me an award, I would like to think that he would credit my moral fiber.  

If my Twitter feed is correct, I mysteriously injured my foot on April 12.  Still not sure what I did.  It was an off day with not running and I stood up from my desk at work and BAM.  Messed up peroneal tendon.  Badly.  Been in physio since then and haven't run in a month and a half, except for 1km last week to test it out and it felt terrible so I stopped, opting for an extra week rest instead of trying to build up mileage.  And as stupid as that sounds, I think it was a good idea.  My physiotherapist knew that it was my plan to run whether or not my foot was better, so she did her best to prep me.  Lots of ultrasound, icing, ART, electropads and strengthening exercises.  The main reason that I ran it at all instead of just skipping it all together was because I had raised money for the Heart and Stroke Foundation and I felt guilty taking the donations and not even attempting the run.  So I ran.

I was reading a post online last week talking about women's only races and what the differences/advantages are.  I only noticed two main differences from other events.

My foot held up for the first 4km before I started to feel the first twinge, and I was able to make it to 12km before I had to take my first walk break (which I promptly tweeted about).  It wasn't going great, but I was having fun.  Unlike everyone else I saw, I was bounding through the puddles.  I was singing to my iPod.  I waved at the hot, shirtless firemen, who I saw at three different times while they manned a water station.  And then I hit the 18km mark and I'm fairly certain that the last 3km took me 30 minutes.  I was doing the old man shuffle and things were not going well but I survived.  Chocolate station at 19km was lovely, but all I wanted to do was to be done.  I had been doing a lot of cross training, but my quads were burning and my injured foot was killing me, because it's tough to train for running by doing anything besides running.

Finally crossed the finish line (after seeing my mom, fiance, and dog a couple hundred metres before) and I have never been so glad to stop running before in my life.  Grabbed my post race grub, met up with my cheerleaders and went home, only to find more aches and pains.  My back kills when I sit down and my hip flexors are angry at me.  I have to assume that it wasn't just the lack of training but more from my body compensating to keep my foot from hurting and running differently from normal.

But I'm proud.  I could have quit, but I didn't.  I was tough and I had fun.  Am I a little disappointed with my time?  Of course, but there wasn't anything that I could have done able that, aside from getting in a time machine and not getting injured.  I finished, and right now, I feel pretty damn proud about it.  $820 raised for Heart and Stroke and yes, I'm pretty sore, but I'm hoping that money will go to good use.

So now what?  Back to physio, back to the gym, and letting my foot heal up.  I'm hoping to run the 5km in the same series at the end of August so this foot has to get better so I can rock it. :)

Injuries happen.  They happen in day to day life.  They happen in accidents.  And they certainly happen while running.  Shin splints, sore muscles, tears, rolled ankles - anything can happen.  And yesterday it happened to me.  But I'm not quite sure where I hurt, I'm more just aware that I do hurt.

It's all my dog's fault.

We were out for our afternoon 6km - 4.4km to the dog park, a play with other dogs, and then 1.6km home.  She's a pretty good running partner and if I do say so myself, the cutest thing ever, but she does have a weakness.  She's too socialized.  She needs to say hello to everyone and everything.  And this is how I hurt myself.

About three and a half km into our run, there was a puppy crossing the road ahead of us with its person.  No, not only a puppy.  A Wheaton puppy, one of Cooper's favourite breeds on the planet. And she needed to go see it.  Now.  Normally, this isn't a problem.  She runs in front of me (I can't decide if its an innate husky pulling trait or an innate shepherd guarding trait, but I can't seem to break it from her, no matter how many treats and clickers are involved) and although it isn't the favoured heel position, I am able to see better if she's going to start pulling after something.  A pull of the leash and a firm "NO.  LEAVE IT." generally works, though she will stare at whatever she's looking at longingly.  Unfortunately, this puppy crossed our line of sight at the same time as we were running through some muddy grass.  I pulled the leash and skidded at the same time, throwing off my center of balance.  

And then proceed to skid and slide for 20 meters.  There were a couple moments when I thought that I was going to make a spectacular recovery and the judges would have given me an 8.4 for being shaky on the dismount but nailing the landing.  No, what I did was slide until I simply ran out of momentum and landed softly on my bum.  And then proceeded to be licked by Cooper and her new Wheaton friend.  The other owner was concerned and asked if I was all right - I of course said that I was fine, but the moment that I started running again, I could feel little twinges in places that there had been no twinges before - my right quad, my left hamstring, my core and the rest of the run was significantly slower.

Now I'm sore all over.  My bum is fine but my muscles ache way more than what is normal for my daily run and I know that its completely from my attempt to stabilize and not fall down.  I'm certain that I would hurt less if I had just wiped out completely.

Things I learned:
1. Mud is slippery
2. Puppy kisses cure all as do couch cuddles when you finally get home