I am sorry this entry has taken so long to come. I am sure those that know me suspect why. Last week I suffered my first proper running related injury of my short 3 ½ year running career and I was quite literally stumped for words. It was a big blow to me at the time.
Last Sunday (29 August) I did my usual long Sunday run, 26 miles, with a number of my club mates. I pushed it quite hard, particularly in the second half of the run, and especially when I was on my own for the last 10 miles. I felt great, really strong and fast. Okay I had a few niggles while running. My right knee and hamstring had been tugging a little bit, but I have been used to them doing that for years. I remember that in the last few miles I felt a little tightness in my left ankle. It wasn’t too bad and not really sore so I didn’t think anything of it. It was only when I stopped and sat down at Garry’s house for a coffee that it felt sore. I knew then that something wasn’t quite right, so spent most of the afternoon with my ankle on a pack of frozen peas. When I pressed my fingers on my Achilles and moved my foot I could feel a horrible crunching and squelching feeling, which certainly wasn’t there before. Not good. I have come to know this feeling as the 'creaking'.
The next morning it hurt when running, both morning and night.
I knew then I was injured and it descended on my like a dark cloud. It felt terrible. Not just the pain from my leg, but also in mind. All I could think about was what it meant for my training, my plans, my targets and hopes for running. I am fairly certain that most runners feel the same when they pick-up an injury. The physical injury is accompanied by a mental anguish, which can, to some extent, become quite irrational. That Monday night I wondered about the house thinking everything from I’ll never run again to what hobby I might find to replace running. I also started to think about how I wouldn’t be fit for Amsterdam and that my chances of running the MDS would be ruined, that I would have to walk it. These were silly thoughts really for an injury that hadn’t even been assessed by anyone other than me and Google.
Tuesday was no better and I spoke with Alex my coach by email, telling him that my Achilles was sore and asking him what to do. He suggested rest, heel pads, a slow return to running, and not to worry. I did all, but the last part. Of course I worried. My Internet research suggested that cross training would be possible if the Achilles was not sore when doing it, so I rushed home that evening and jumped on my mountain bike. Thankfully, I was pain free and in attempt to beat out my pent up frustration I hit the trails around the Water of Leith and cycled to Balerno and back covering 22 miles. It felt good, but it wasn’t running. I felt extremely jealous of every runner I passed on the bike, wishing it was me.
Wednesday I saw Kirsten, my sports masseuse, and she confirmed I had some damage in my Achilles and then set about panel beating it back into shape. She reassured me that it wasn't wrecked and that with adequate recovery I would be fine. She told me to take 3 or 4 days off running and keep on the bike. I felt slightly better after seeing Kirsten, but still in the back of mind all the worries were there.
Thursday morning, as soon as I woke I grabbed my ankle to have a feel and a poke. It felt so much better and the horrible creaking that I felt when flexing before the muscle was gone. It lifted my spirits massively and I began to think for the first time that I might actually get better and wouldn't have to retire and take up extreme knitting. Of course, I was sensible and didn't push it, well not with running anyway. I took the mountain bike out and did 10 miles in the morning followed by 24 in the evening. On my way home I popped by to see my friends at running club. It was good to see them, but I have to admit I hated watching them train without me. I felt left out. I felt frustrated and it took a considerable amount of will power not to jump off my bike and line-up for some reps. It was very disheartening and I left thinking loads of negative thoughts about how I was going to fall behind the rest of group and run badly at Amsterdam. Totally irrational thoughts, considering I'd only had 3 days off running at this point.
It's funny, I've found that I can't leave my ankle alone since it's been hurt. I can't stop prodding, squeezing and poking it, trying to provoke it to see if it's either sore or better. I've never been more conscious of it. All day Friday from the moment I got up I was at my ankle trying to decide if it was better or not. It still felt pain free and the creaking was still gone. I was feeling good about it, so decided that a couple of miles on grass in the park would be a better way of testing than hacking at it with my fingers
All evening long I checked my ankle to feel for any sign of a problem. It remained pain free, but the creaking and squelching returned. It was a really bitter blow. I felt awful and again all the fear and doubts came rushing back. Even though my ankle wasn't hurting I knew the sensation wasn't right. I kept it under ice and went to bed praying it would be okay in the morning.
Saturday came and again the first thing I did was grab my ankle. No pain, no discomfort, no ache. Phew. Also the creaking was gone too! I felt relieved. I took to the bike for a long cycle and after 9 miles I pulled up and decided to test my ankle again with a few miles running. I was slightly quicker than Friday and on the road too, so I knew it would be a good test or a silly idea. The first 4 miles went well, I felt strong and there was no reaction at all. I turned and headed back to my bike and just as I started to dream of Olympic finishes and desert triumphs an ache crept over my Achilles area. I slowed a little and kept jogging. I also began to try and remember if it was the same feeling as I had had when running with it before. It was very mild. Nowhere near as sore as the Monday or Tuesday. By the time I got to the bike the ache was still small and hadn't got any worse. Checking my muscle I found that the creaking had returned. I cycled back, hard and fast without any further bother. I was pleased to have done the 8 miles of running, but I was slightly worried that it was still nowhere near better. The rest of that day it was tight and a little sore and I did begin to think I had done too much too soon. However, by the evening it felt a lot better and stronger. My half hourly checks of my ankle had also revealed that the creaking had gone. My ankle felt normal, so I went to bed a lot more confident that it was on the mend.
Sunday was a good day. Although I wasn't setting out on the 26 miles I had planned I did manage 12 steady pain free miles. My ankle felt fine, strong and pain free. In fact I was more worried about the rest of my body. It would appear that 110 miles on a mountain bike in 5 days is quite a lot and it had taken quite a bit out of my legs. When I finished my 12 miles my ankle was fine, no soreness and this time no creaking.
As I write this now I have managed more and more miles and even some interval running with five 1 mile reps on Tuesday night. It's not perfect, I am sure. However, I can train. I have had to revisit my training plan and knock off some mileage, as I don't want to push my luck. My morning runs have been replaced with a bus ride and a 25 minute swim. I am also planning to take a rest day on Friday's. This, I hope, will allow my ankle a little more time to recover and reduce the amount of stress on it. I am a little disappointed that I am not going to maintain my 100 mile weeks, but I can go back to them after Amsterdam. I will still be, hopefully, getting between 75-90 miles a week, so not miles away.
I don't want to say that I am over it now, as part of me worries that the Achilles could go at any moment (even though it probably won't). Every run I finish now feels like a small victory and I nod and smile to myself when I stop. I also nervously grab my ankle and feel for the creaking, but so far it hasn't returned again. I also find that in every run I am hyper sensitive about the ankle. Is it getting sore? What was that? Is it tightening up? I am sure I felt something. Maybe I should slow down. Should I reduce my run? These are all thoughts that now rush through my mind as I run.
It's amazing what an injury can do to your confidence. Before this, I felt utterly invincible. Even with several niggles and tight bits I never imagined I would get injured. Even with coaches, magazines and fellow runners all saying that everyone gets injured at some point, I never quite believed it. I do now. Every niggle at the moment fills me with panic and fear that something else is about to pop, burst, rip or tear. I've gone from feeling invincible to feeling like porcelain, expecting to break at the slightest knock. It's a strange sensation. With every run, however, I am getting a little more confident and I am sure if I can get through my next 3 weeks hard training I will feel fine for the marathon when it comes.
I have to admit I feel really lucky, as I have only lost a few days to running and it would appear so far (touch wood) that my injury has been mild. I couldn't imagine a medium term or even a long term injury. What an earth would that do to my sanity?
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