Sunday, August 28, 2011

Post-Marathon Depression

That's the only way I can describe the malaise I felt after hitting my goal time at Boston, and it was only April!

I wanted nothing to do with running after training for four solid months and hitting my goal. Even though I was riding a high that I had never felt before I soon felt like I was running aimlessly post-Boston.

This, and a couple of other issues that I will delve into in later chapters, made for a very bleak looking spring.

It also didn't help that Titus was toying around with me at the GT Spring Series by giving me a tiny ounce of hope that I might actually win the entire series. This forced me to race every week for about another month post-Boston (against Reno's wishes).

My legs were beginning to revolt and the first sign of dead legs began to set in.

Everything came to a head about two weeks into spring track. I remember doing that night's workout with Eric M. and on the second-to-final interval, a pain shot through the bottom of my left foot.

Please let it be a broken foot. Please let it be a broken foot.

Nope. Unfortunately, it was the beginning of my painful battle with plantar faciitis. Damnit!!

I played stupid and continued to run and race on it for a couple of more weeks after that, hoping that it would magically disappear, like all injuries do.

This was my first serious running related injury since my IT band injury late in 2009. That one took months to heal because I never rested, thanks in large part to Fil's great idea to try to run  a 5K every day for 365 Days in 2010. Thanks, dad!

(chica-bow, chica-bow-wow)

The PF would eventually lead to a compensating hammy injury that I first felt at the Medical Center 6K. Ironically, the injury occurred right around the point on the course where I passed Titus, who was also battling his own demons at the time.

My right hammy just completely seized up and my entire right leg felt like dead weight as I gutted it out to the finish line. I knew I was done at that point and went straight to my car and drove home right after the race.

I was panic-stricken. Was this the swan song for my running?

I'm pretty stupid when it comes to injuries (see exhibit A above), and this was no different. I did, however, conceded to the fact that I needed to take a break from running.

I finished up the GT Spring Time series with a respectable, but disappointing, 1st loser placing behind the ageless Titus. Can someone please get a hold of his real age?! :)

I went back to my palatial estate in Tewksbury to pick my scabs and lick my wounds.

Somewhere between stupid and stupider, I got talked into running the Finger Lakes 50 MILER with fellow club mate and ultra marathon champion, Zona S.


There was no way in hell I could train for an ultra marathon on two beat up legs, so I did the next logical thing. With the help of Bash, aka Knuckles, I picked up a road bike that would help keep me in shape, but at the same time, help reduce the pounding on my tired legs.

Little did I know that this bike would soon become my hearse.


1 comment:

  1. Great pic! Who knew Freddie Mercury officiated soccer matches when he wasn't singing for Queen? Those crazy Brits.

    I'm pretty sure that malaise is a ten cent word, and here it is in your second post. This is gonna be good.