It was all going so well…. Until it wasn’t.
I’d bagged my first ever good-for-age place in April’s London Marathon. Training was going as smoothly as tempered chocolate. My body seemed able to handle everything I threw at it: capoeira classes, kettlebell workouts, and a higher weekly mileage than I’d ever managed.
I was feeling strong. What could possibly go wrong? A good run at the Exeter half in mid-February reassured me that everything was on track.
The following Saturday, I was cutting it fine to get to parkrun, when I realised I’d forgotten my barcode. Cue a quick dash home to retrieve it, and an even quicker sprint to get to the start just in time. Phew!
Sunday was long run day, and 15.5 miles was on the menu. I was still a bit tired from Exeter, and calves and hammies felt a little tight, but otherwise everything was as it should be.
I grabbed my hydration belt, promised the dog I’d be back soon, and headed out the door.
All was going to plan until the 4-mile mark. Suddenly my right calf started to tighten up. I did what I always do when I feel the first signs of a niggle: sensed into my body and ran through a mental checklist to see where I might be over-working or tensing up. But this particular niggle was persistent, and nothing I tried could get rid of it. Instead of letting go and relaxing, the muscle just seemed to tighten up more.
Decision time: continue on and hope it would go away (unlikely)? Or cut the run short and try again another day? In the end I opted for the latter. The marathon was still 9 weeks away, and I figured I could turn a bit of discomfort into something more serious if I kept on running.
So I headed home and tried not to freak out too much. At least the dog was pleased to see me. 🙂
Over the next few days, I skipped my runs but kept active. My calf muscle wasn't painful, but it still felt tight and grippy.
I decided to try a gentle run to see how it would react. The first 5 minutes felt fine. But within 10 minutes, the calf was tightening up again. And instead of loosening and relaxing as my body warmed up, the tension just increased and started to radiate down towards my ankle.
Had I found my training edge and run right over it? Was it too much capoeira and kettle bells? Or had that sprint to parkrun with cold muscles done the damage? Possibly a combination of all of the above.
Suddenly those weeks until the marathon felt all too few. How was I going to be able to run for hours, when I could barely manage double-digit minutes? My London dream was beginning to look decidedly iffy.
Time to get some professional medical help, and sooner rather than later.
The chiropractor was upbeat. My calf muscle was having a bit of a moment, but nothing too serious. A bit of massage, some acupuncture, and an admonition to rest for a few more days, then I could slowly start to build back up again. I didn’t need to shelve my London plans just yet.
So for now, I’m staying optimistic and faithfully following rehab instructions.
At the same time, I’m looking to the long term and reminding myself that whatever happens, there’ll always be more marathons; preparing a plan B (lots of Somerset Series races); while focusing on doing those things that I know can help my fitness but I never seem to find time for, such as breath work.
And trying to keep it all in perspective. There’s more to life than running, after all…. Maybe 🤔