Rubber Band

I’ve run three or four times each of the past few weeks, for just a handful of miles, with walking/jogging interspersed. Every other run is super tough; it feels like I’m running on Jupiter, such is the struggle to lift my feet and move with any forward momentum. But then the next run will be easier, and the good old days of my fitness aren’t such a distant memory.

Tonight’s run was the best so far. I walked just about 10% of it, and felt relatively strong. However, in the last few hundred yards, something peculiar happened to my left knee (the troublesome one.) The best way I can describe it, is like a rubber band inside ‘twanged’ – if that makes any sense at all. No pain as such, but that was probably because I stopped immediately and walked. I’ve been icing like a maniac since I got home. The pessimistic me can’t help but think I was granted a month’s reprieve from injury and that’s it – back on the bench. But we’ll see. I’ll take my day off as planned tomorrow, and attempt to continue my snails’ pace comeback after that.

I hate my left knee. I really hate it. Perusing all my running diaries, I see a clear pattern of it repeatedly interfering with training. I wish some remarkably insightful physical therapist or doctor could examine me once and for all, and diagnose what it is about my legs/feet/hips/quads/hamstrings/gait/whatever that is the root of all this hassle and heartbreak.

Waiting to Exhale

I found myself wanting to skip sleep and hurry onto the next day a couple nights this week, such is the improvement of my mood. Slumber seemed like a waste of time - tomorrow held too much excitement and promise. That's how much running - albeit the slow, strained and short type of 'running' I've managed three times this week - cheers me up. Sounds ridiculous right? But I can't tell you how it transforms me. Or maybe I can tell you, because it does the same thing for you.

And so, with the knee brace, and stretches, and most vitally - the quads/hammy strengthening exercises, I perform every night, *FINGERS CROSSED* things are going a little more my way. And through my dieting, I'm also starting to lose some weight, which helps me feel more like my real self. Those twelve pairs of old size 4 jeans are waiting patiently, while my cheap, stubborn streak refuses to go spend money on the size 8s I need right now.


I'm excited about an London trip I've arranged, which coincidentally takes in the marathon. Since my teenage years I've watched the fabulous coverage (so much better than any I've ever seen over here) on TV, and finally - I get to spectate for real. And of course (again, touching wood) I'll bring my Brooks for some sight-seeing jogs around the capital.

There's no accounting for the things we love

Do I win a prize for being the most sporadic blogger in the blogging universe?

A summary of my life the past four months:

My all time hero passed within feet of me, on her way to win her umpteenth marathon – just 10 months after giving birth. Oh the shame.

Work continues to the bain of my life. Working a very stressful job in the this city + being a mother often brings with it a little more stress than I can handle.

Went home to Scotland for a week with Kyla. Was struck yet again at just how much higher the quality of life is across the pond, and resolved to move home asap. But life has other ideas, so we’ve decided to stay in NYC a while longer and get on the property ladder. I must say, I didn't think it would be so hard to get someone to take all our money.

• Had an offer on dream apartment accepted.
• Three weeks later - sellers took apartment off the market.
• Had an offer on another apartment accepted.
• Three days later – sellers ditched us for a higher offer.
• We’re still looking.
  

Kyla grows more and more insanely cute (& insane) by the week. She spends her days screeching, running, throwing things around, and generally wreaking havoc. She now speaks about 50 (intelligible) words, can spell her name and count to ten – when the fancy strikes her. Not bad for a 16-month old!

January ’08 – got my diet back on track and started power walking at lunch time around Madison Square Park with similarly disgusted-with-their-bodies colleagues. Never thought I’d use my Ironman Timex to take walking splits, but that’s what things have been reduced to. Nevertheless, I have grown a little fitter as a result.
I am also stretching religiously, and foam-rollering for at least a half hour a day.

Saw Spirit of the Marathon, a documentary-style movie following elites and regular Joe’s in their training for the ’05 Chicago marathon. It was fairly moving and inspiring – particular since I ran that very race myself. The only thing I found kind of strange was the having the subjects explain things like gels, and electronic shoe chips. I mean – who would go see that movie if not people who already know all that stuff in intimate detail? Just a minor complaint.

Every weekend or so, I attempt a little jog with walking interspersed, but my left knee continues to give me grief (literally.)
Had orthotics adjusted, which did not make any difference.
Bought a knee band, which seems to have helped somewhat. I can definitely feel my knee after just two or three miles of walk/jogging, so god knows what state it would be in if I actually wanted to run. But it’s something.

I can’t help but believe that 3 years of hard running (& 3 marathons in 12 months) ruined me for life. I’m so envious of runners who get injured and recover in a few weeks or months. I’m so envious of runners who get injured and recover. Let's face it: I’m so envious of runners.

When I was at the height of my fitness – probably around the time of my Chicago PR, I wondered if my world would end if I couldn’t run any more. And now I must tell you, it kind of has. In a way.