Yesterday's six hour run turned into a 6:28 run because I thought I could negative split, which I am usually able to do. Apparently I should have paid closer attention to just how long one particular descent was. It nearly killed me on the way back. I seriously had a moment where my heart rate spiked, and I felt funny in the head. It scared me, but I knew, somehow, with certainty, that I just needed to sit down and breathe. After some meditative breathing techniques, and just a couple of minutes, everything felt normal. On the next steep climb, I had to take a couple minutes again. After the last climb, I decided to sit for a couple more minutes. Phew!
The day after, I feel great, relatively speaking. I have some inflammation in both ankles, but it is not as bad as it has been in the past after shorter runs. My form is improving as my body gets stronger. My legs are sore, but again, nothing beyond what I have experienced in the past. I am pleased with the results. Admittedly, at a few points yesterday, I questioned my sanity, wondered why I thought running an ultra marathon was such a good idea. I mean, I have never even run a marathon. And I only ran 22 miles yesterday. Yes, I know, so freakin' slow. But, you know, climbing mountains (literally climbing at times), single-track, technical terrain. Of course, an elite trail runner could have covered that distance in half the time.
Still, it feels good to have finally come this far. A little over a year ago, after I completed the Conquer the Cove 25k in Roanoke, I could hardly walk for days. In fact, my right foot, on top just below the middle three toes, remained dreadfully swollen for weeks. I thought nothing of it; well, I thought little of it. I just needed to rest a week and slowly start back into running. That is what I did, ignoring the lingering pain, but even more troubling, the swelling continued. What happened?
I had trouble deciding on shoes to wear during the 25k. I had turned into a heavy advocate for barefoot and minimalist shoes. I was trying to decide between my thick, cushy Altras, which I had purchased to assist in my recovery of the severely inflamed tendon (see earlier posts) and my Merrell Trail Gloves, the most comfortable shoes I had ever owned and run in. Well, the Altras I had purchased were not trail shoes, so I decided on the Trail Gloves, very minimalist, more accurately barefoot, shoes. For about 11-12 miles of the race, I felt great. I knew I had made the right decision. My feet and legs felt great. Then the trail made a dramatic plunge for two to three miles, and it was rocky, littered with exposed tree roots, and steep in many places. My feet took a pounding. Immediately after the race, things didn't feel right. The next day, things felt even worse. I still don't know what happened to my foot. My best guess is that I had fractured it or had done major soft tissue damage (I also stubbed my toes, hard, multiple times), but I pressed on, looking ahead to the next race, a trail half marathon in September. I had wanted to run a 40 miler that day (same course as the half marathon), but I at least decided I couldn't be ready in time with the way my recovery from the 25k began.
I had new trail shoes for the half marathon, and my feet did feel better after that race. I felt like I was in the clear. The next week, I ran 10 easy miles on a flat course, and the next day, my foot hurt more than after the previous week's race. I decided to shut it down. My ultra dreams once gain put on hold for an injury. What made it so frustrating was that I had just spent so long recovering from the other injury. The funny part of this entire process through to today? My right foot is still "injured." But that exposition is yet to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment