Sorry I haven’t been posting much.  I’ve been working my way through the Five Stages of Grief.

How to Cope with a Running Injury

Early in the morning on the Tuesday after my 50K training run, I woke up with pain in my right quad.  It wasn’t a little pain.  It was an I-can’t-move-my-leg-and-get-out-of-bed pain.

I fully realize that, in the grand scheme of world events, my injury doesn’t rank very highly as a real problem.  But when I consider the time, energy, and money I’ve invested in my training for the last 11 months, I assure you that it felt like a very real problem.

Enter Stage One: Shock & Denial

Ohmygosh.  What is this?  Why is my leg hurting?  I just ran 50K on Saturday with no pain at all.  This doesn’t even feel like my body.  And NOW?  This is exactly what I do.not.need. right now.  This can’t be real.  

By Tuesday morning, I was ready to for Stage Two: Anger

UGGGGGGGHHHHH!  I have spent how many months training?  ELEVEN! I have logged how many miles so far this year? Nearly 600!  I can’t be out of the race now.  I’ve worked too hard.  Too many people have sacrificed for me to be able to do this.  I can’t believe this is happening to me.  I have to be able to run Comrades in six weeks!  How will I ever explain that I couldn’t do it because of a stupid quad strain?

Unfortunately, the pain was worse by Wednesday.  It was hard to drive, as I couldn’t lift my leg to move it between the gas and brake pedals.  I was icing, taking ibuprofen, and expending the energy I wasn’t using running on being highly irritated.

When I woke Thursday, certain that it would all be better, I still felt the strain.

Here came Stage Three: Depression & Detachment

Fine.  I won’t run.  Who really cares anyway?  I mean, it’s just hours and hours I’ve spent training and planning.  But it’s not that big of a deal.  Why do I even want the challenge or the medal anyway?  It doesn’t really mean anything.  I think I’ll just sit here on the couch.  And moan.  Yeah, moaning’s good.

Thursday and Friday were not good.  By Friday afternoon, I’d gone a full week without running.  That doesn’t sound too bad to people who don’t run, but missing a week of training during peak month is crazy-making all on its own.  Throw in the unknown of injury recovery, and I was not so fun to be around.

I headed out Saturday morning for what was going to be an easy two-hour run, using my usual strategy of 4 minutes running and 1 minute walking.  I’m not sure why I thought I could go from not running at all for a week due to an injury to running for two hours, but that’s a runner for you.

My run did not go well.  I had to stop after four miles.  My leg wasn’t painful, but I could feel the strain.  I knew stopping early was smarter than pushing.  That experience brought on  Stage Four: Dialogue & Bargaining

Seriously?  I gave you a week of rest.  I’ve iced until my leg is practically frozen.  I’ve done all.the.right.things.  How can I not be better by now?  This is ridiculous.  If I can just get well and make it through Comrades, I can spend the rest of the summer taking it easy and getting back to 100%.  Just for good measure, I’m going to whine about my injury on Facebook.  Surely all of my friends will see the injustice of my injury.

Sunday morning, I was ready for Stage Five: Acceptance

Today I’m going to use the inverse of yesterday’s strategy: 1 minute running and 4 minutes walking.  I’m even going to walk the whole first five minutes.  And I’m just going to try to stay out there an hour.  Pain-free is my goal.

My Sunday run went well.  I made it through 4.5 miles in 55 minutes.  No, that’s not fast, but I did finish pain-free.

I continued the higher percentage of walking all week, shifting the proportions little-by-little, day-by-day.  I made it through a 40+ mile pain-free week.  SLOWLY.

There’s still icing.  There’s resting when I can.  (Not much.)  There’s a lot of playing with pace calculators and finish time predictors, trying to build the confidence that, while I may not be able to finish Comrades in 10 hours, if I’m smart and go slowly with plenty of walking, I should bring home a sub-12 hour finish.  Hopefully.

So, as I return to normal life with new expectations and a new appreciation of how much this journey and race mean to me, I’m feeling a bit more positive.  I’m definitely worried about the long and steep downhills, but the only thing I can control right now is getting quality rest and not doing anything that will re-injure my leg.