Ah, the offseason
I love the offseason.
Almost.
I sort of enjoy the break from training. Not having to run so often, so far, so fast is a welcomed respite for me. It's as much emotional and mental as it is physical.
But after awhile of not running so much, it's a struggle to be idle. Part of me wants to run like I do in May or August. I love how I feel then, what the consistency and longer distances do for my body and psyche.
Then again, part of me wants the down time I'm having now.
My body needs an offseason more this year than ever. I battled injuries -- nagging injuries mostly -- more in 2005 than ever before. An ankle tweaked prior to Grandma's Marathon -- an injury sustained while on my bike, at an almost complete stop while trying unsuccessfully to get my cycling shoe out of my pedal -- remained swollen for more than a month. Little pain, but plenty of swelling that resulted in altered strides. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I went on to roll that ankle during my runs. Still, I ran.
Ran through the blisters that the ankle swelling unexpectedly caused at Grandma's. They formed somewhere around Mile 7. It was Mile 15 before I found aid on the course so I could put some Vaseline on the hotspots. Finished the marathon without stopping, but my pace was significantly slowed as a result of the blisters. I hobbled my way to the finish. Missed a PR by five minutes, which I found disappointing, even considering the circumstances. More frustrating was that I finished on the wrong side of 3:30.
Ran through the Achilles problems in the same foot prior to and at Twin Cities Marathon. At Mile 15 in the marathon, I felt a strange, warm sensation in my right Achilles tendon. The warmth, almost like some sort of friction along the back of my foot, didn't go away. Instead, the tendon tightened. Finished the marathon anyway. I was slowed considerably -- the PR pace I was on for the first 15 miles vanished quickly with the tendon issues -- but somehow my legs carried me to the finish line. There, again on the slow side of 3:30, I immediately discovered a new pain. My right hip, which had tightened in the final 10 miles of the race, no doubt because of the Achilles issues, hurt. Hurt badly. Excruciatingly so. I had never experienced such running-related pain. It nearly drove me to tears. At least the pain was considerate enough to wait until I finished running.
So hear I sit -- and I mean "sit" -- in November. Not running. Not often anyway. The prudent thing to do is not run. Give my body a few months to recover. Allow my right ankle, likely the source of all of the physical ailments I endured, time to fully heal. Mother Nature, with her single-digit temperatures, below-zero wind chills and hazardous ice, make that easier to accomplish.
But, at the same time, part of me misses training. I'm not sure which part that is, however. Is it mental? Is it emotional? Is it physiological? I can't put my finger on it exactly. Chances are, it's a combination of the three that creates the void I feel.
Lethargy creeps in. It builds on itself. It can become almost overwhelming. I know it's in my best interest, physically anyway, not to run right now. I'm not going to gain anything. I'm not going to fully recover from this past season of training by running now.
I need the down time. I have to have it.
But I don't have to enjoy it. Not completely, anyway.
Almost.
I sort of enjoy the break from training. Not having to run so often, so far, so fast is a welcomed respite for me. It's as much emotional and mental as it is physical.
But after awhile of not running so much, it's a struggle to be idle. Part of me wants to run like I do in May or August. I love how I feel then, what the consistency and longer distances do for my body and psyche.
Then again, part of me wants the down time I'm having now.
My body needs an offseason more this year than ever. I battled injuries -- nagging injuries mostly -- more in 2005 than ever before. An ankle tweaked prior to Grandma's Marathon -- an injury sustained while on my bike, at an almost complete stop while trying unsuccessfully to get my cycling shoe out of my pedal -- remained swollen for more than a month. Little pain, but plenty of swelling that resulted in altered strides. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I went on to roll that ankle during my runs. Still, I ran.
Ran through the blisters that the ankle swelling unexpectedly caused at Grandma's. They formed somewhere around Mile 7. It was Mile 15 before I found aid on the course so I could put some Vaseline on the hotspots. Finished the marathon without stopping, but my pace was significantly slowed as a result of the blisters. I hobbled my way to the finish. Missed a PR by five minutes, which I found disappointing, even considering the circumstances. More frustrating was that I finished on the wrong side of 3:30.
Ran through the Achilles problems in the same foot prior to and at Twin Cities Marathon. At Mile 15 in the marathon, I felt a strange, warm sensation in my right Achilles tendon. The warmth, almost like some sort of friction along the back of my foot, didn't go away. Instead, the tendon tightened. Finished the marathon anyway. I was slowed considerably -- the PR pace I was on for the first 15 miles vanished quickly with the tendon issues -- but somehow my legs carried me to the finish line. There, again on the slow side of 3:30, I immediately discovered a new pain. My right hip, which had tightened in the final 10 miles of the race, no doubt because of the Achilles issues, hurt. Hurt badly. Excruciatingly so. I had never experienced such running-related pain. It nearly drove me to tears. At least the pain was considerate enough to wait until I finished running.
So hear I sit -- and I mean "sit" -- in November. Not running. Not often anyway. The prudent thing to do is not run. Give my body a few months to recover. Allow my right ankle, likely the source of all of the physical ailments I endured, time to fully heal. Mother Nature, with her single-digit temperatures, below-zero wind chills and hazardous ice, make that easier to accomplish.
But, at the same time, part of me misses training. I'm not sure which part that is, however. Is it mental? Is it emotional? Is it physiological? I can't put my finger on it exactly. Chances are, it's a combination of the three that creates the void I feel.
Lethargy creeps in. It builds on itself. It can become almost overwhelming. I know it's in my best interest, physically anyway, not to run right now. I'm not going to gain anything. I'm not going to fully recover from this past season of training by running now.
I need the down time. I have to have it.
But I don't have to enjoy it. Not completely, anyway.
posted by RTG at 5:10 PM
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