The pain passed, I kept going, I thought I was ok. I was even able to pick up the pace again. At my next fueling stop around mile 15, I told my friend what happened as she handed me my gel and fluids. She rightfully seemed concerned, but I didn't have time to chat or linger. It was a quick stop under 60 seconds.
The next few miles were painful. Soon after at mile 16 as I turned onto a new road, the familiar twinge turned into a sharp spasm down my leg. Like a rubber band snapping. Luckily I didn't fall down (see: severe ankle sprain, May 2022). But man did it hurt. At this point, my body was in fight or flight mode: I was panicking, I was reliving past trauma, my hands were getting clammy, my ears were ringing. It was a bad news bear situation.
I had two miles to go and there wasn't any way to shorten the pickup point to where my father-in-law was picking me up. And I was too stubborn and embarrassed to call him to change the spot (sorry Bob!) In order to keep the pain at a minimum, and God forbid another spasm, I stubbornly began running a few hundred feet, then walking, running, then walking. Until I completed the 18 miles.
The next day I received treatment and was told to rest. But I interpret rest as well as a toddler interprets the word "No". By day 2 post injury, I was already biking, running, biking. Until day 5 rolled around - suddenly I was much worse shape than the day I was first injured. The pain took over every aspect of my life. Walking was painful, sitting was painful, standing was painful. Even laying down was painful - it was throbbing. As well as the emotional and mental toll on my morale and overall well-being. This is when rest was no longer a voluntary option but now completely obligatory.
I rested for 5 full days. Received further treatment. Put my supplement and nutrition regimen into overdrive to promote healing. Did lots of crazy voodoo things to promote anti-inflammatory action in my body. I targeted the IT band with a rolling stick, then with tennis balls. I used ice packs up and down my leg several times a day (which by the way, is the only thing that actually relieved any of the pain temporarily in the moment).
I keep thinking about what factors caused this to happen. Amateur move - it seems like my sneakers were shot. I lost track of it. I was wearing 3 different pairs and rotating them, and I guess the pair I choose to wear for that long run had more mileage on them than I realized. Apparently my adrenaline glands are also working overtime. Not the first time this has come up in my life (though maybe not that specific wording or diagnosis). The whole fight or flight thing is my normal state of operating. And after a month of reflection, I think the biggest factor for how 'bad' went to 'real bad' so quickly can be attributed to my lack of actual and meaningful rest the days immediately following the first injury. It's really hard to tell someone like me to not do what they want (and what makes them happy) when they "think" they feel just fine. And I would be lying to myself and to you all if I didn't admit that caloric burn wasn't a top of mind stressor that pushed me to get back to exercise right away (e.g. fear of being obese).
As this was all happening, I was falling behind in my marathon training. I missed my 19 mile long run. I stopped going to CrossFit. I also had the stress of two upcoming races looming. This part is difficult to explain to non-runners. Races are commitments. Just like game and tournaments are part of sports, races are the only way running is a "sport". Skipping them is not a decision to be taken lightly.
I had a low-stakes local 5K that I had signed up with my family a few months ago. We all had set goals. My brother was running, my sister-in-law, my nephew, Rob, Pietra, and even Gio. I had promised to make time for a local race (on top of all my city-based races) this year so that Pietra could run with me. She's too young to be allowed into NYRR races yet. In summary - I didn't want to let any of these people down. Or mess up these plans that were very difficult to get on the calendar in the first place.
I was feeling better, but not great. The pain lingered. It was constantly there in the background. I told myself that I just needed to get through the 5K. I would run with Pietra, take it slow, even walk if I had to. Then...I got there and all bets went out the window. It was a crisp, sunny fall morning - perfect running weather. I scoped out the competitor - my chances were good, especially by gender. So I "took it easy" by placing first in my gender and age division. My toxic trait is collecting medals.
Later that day, the pain came back with a vengeance. Back to icing, hydration, powders, pills, and voodoo.
Now with that fuck up out of the way, I had to refocus my attention on the next hurdle ahead. Race #2 - the Staten Island Half. This one was not low-stakes. This is my 7th race of the 9+1 program to qualify for next year. There simply are no other races that I can run this year - it had to be this one. I had always planned on doing this one because the timing falls perfectly into most NYC marathon training plans. Most people are doing a "step back" week around early October after they tackled their 18-19 mile long run. It's funny to type that a Half Marathon is now low mileage - but it's true. Trust the training.
My voodoo regimen (enjoying this term now) became extreme, but with sleep levels not ideal (and continuing to be lacking even today).
I was now 2 1/2 weeks post injury taking the train into Manhattan to pick up my race bib. For the first time (ever!), the whole family came. I was moaning on the train, I was moaning as we walked around the city...if anyone had witnessed this, they had to think "there's no way this girl is running a half tomorrow." And then it gets better. As we were galavanting around my left big toe starting to hurt. It got worse and worse as the day went on. Upon inspection at the hotel, I discovered that the nail had lifted from the toe bed. It was also bruised. I'm not exactly sure how I got runners toe (again) if I had been laying off the running. Perhaps from all the city walking coming off so much rest. This was madness. Rob helped me tape the toe down to help reduce pain and get through the night. We taped it down pretty snuggly the next morning as well before the race. But I could feel a zing of pain with each step. It almost felt swollen as well, rubbing against the inside of my shoes making the whole situation worse.
The next morning, with husband and two small kids in tow, we boarded the Staten Island ferry from downtown Manhattan before dawn. We got to see the sun rise over the Statue of Liberty together aboard the ferry - it was a moment. Between all the setbacks I experienced and then feeling the warmth of my family's support and presence nearby.
What happened on those roads in Staten Island can only be described as a miracle. The adrenaline must have kicked in because I went out guns blazing. I ran a consistent and solid race. I had to slow down a hair towards the end because the pain started saying "hello old friend". It wasn't my best Half time, and it certainly wasn't a PR, but it wasn't terrible either (like it was supposed to be).
I was expecting to have really damaged my body. The risk of injury was so high. The risk of losing the marathon again was so high. But somehow, I was OK. The pain did not come back stronger. It started to fade little by little. I've been wearing Birkenstocks (even in the cold!) for two weeks now, and my toe seems to have healed. Instead of just icing, I started feeling ok taking baths again - so I started incorporating salt, and hot/cold therapy. The hot was too painful the weeks prior.
I'm now about a month out from the original injury. I conquered a few battles and additional setbacks. And I seemed to have navigated some risky situations without worsening my situation greatly.
Now: a new decision was looming over me. Do I do one last long run before the marathon? Do I go back to the training plan and do my 20 miler? Do I just rest for a full month until the marathon? I had no data to know the right thing to do. And I was receiving conflicting advice. Any marathon runner will tell you the 20 mile run is important. When you ask them why...it's sort of a "Oh, you'll see why" response with a smirk.
Spoiler alert: I did the 20 mile run (of course I did, did you think I was going to rest?) And now I know why it's important. I thought I was tired running 14 miles. I was wrong. I thought I was tired running 15 miles. I was definitely wrong. 16 - NOPE. 17 - NEGATIVE. 18 - HOW CUTE.
I think I was hallucinating running 20 miles. It was 4 full hours of running with no breaks, no slow-downs - just constant pounding. The mental grit and physical drive required to cross that threshold is astounding (even if it's mentally driven...because really, how different is 19 from 20 miles). I came out of that run a different person.
If I got through it and didn't get hurt again. The plan is to now taper and rest for the next 3 weeks pre-marathon. How are there only 3 weeks left?! I thought for sure these next few days were going to be brutal for pain...but they haven't. While I want to say none of this makes sense. It actually does. Trust the training. My recovery can only somewhat be credited to my proactive behaviors over the past month in order to expedite the healing process. But really, the foundation I've built this past year deserves so much more credit. The strength was always there, even if it got hurt. And once I let my body forgive itself, it went right back to being strong again.
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| Local 5K Long Island with the family |
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| Victory at the Staten Island Half |
