All I want to do right now is run. Like have a really good run, where I feel energetic, and my legs want to work right, and I have fun. I haven't had an enjoyable run since June 12th. I remember how I went into that weekend feeling so fantatic, seeing super fast splits, and being really proud about my progress. Then that next Tuesday my shins starting hurting, and they still haven't yet recovered. Since then I've only had fleeting moments where running is enjoyable.
I've been good about giving myself extra rest days and icing my legs, but they still ache. First it was my right shin giving me trouble. Now it's my left. I just feel defeated. Like there is this goal I really want to achieve, and I'm willing to put a lot of work towards it, but my body is rebelling against me and not letting me do it.
I know this is to be expected. I went from not running at all during the winter or spring to running 20 miles a week in June. I know aches and pains are going to be normal when you put your body through that kind of change. I know I need to be patient and understanding towards my body, but I hate being discouraged and feeling like I'm never going to be able to complete this half in August. I've felt like giving up during runs lately, almost like I should be proud I tried, but running after all is just not for me-- and I hate that. I hate having energy left over at the end of my workouts, feeling like my body can do more if my legs only let it. And I really hate having to take extra rest days to allow for recovery when all I want to do is run.
Any advice??
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Against all odds
My name is Danielle. I am training for a half marathon, and I am not athletically inclined.
No, seriously, ask anyone I went to school with. I was always picked last for teams because I wasn't coordinated or fast or knowledgeable about sports in general. I was the girl that was relegated to the goalie position because I couldn't kick the ball or pass the puck and was of most use to my team standing in the background. I'd often be the one who lost the game for the team. Or the one who got schmucked with a hockey puck (substitute here "soccer ball", "basketball", "shuttlecock"... I do have to say the puck always hurt the most though.)
Running in gym was the worst. Whenever I was forced to run down and up our middle school's version of Heartbreak Hill, I was always in the back of the pack, huffing and puffing and praying to God that it would be over soon. And oh, the horrible side stitches... I think every picture my parents have of me at our school's annual track and field event shows me hunched over, clutching my right diaphragm, with a look of part agony, part terror (part nausea?) on my face.
However, as the years wore on, physical activity did gradually become more important to me, if only as a way to offset the physical decline that often comes with improper eating habits and stress. I begrudgingly began running, since that seemed like the best calorie burner. I'd lace up my shoes and jog around the block often enough, but running was never enjoyed, never craved, never looked forward to. It was a chore, something to dread and finish as soon as possible. I never kept at it very long, running a few weeks tops before I'd start slacking off on workouts and taking long hiatuses.
But something changed last summer, I don't know what. Maybe it was the fact that I finally stuck with a running program long enough to get the elusive runners high for the first time. Or maybe it was that I first became aware of the awe-inspiring stories of marathoners and their accomplishments. Whatever the reason, running somehow became something I enjoyed. It became something to look forward to, a way to work out the stress of the day. It was a challenge, a way to show myself (and others) that I could do something unexpected. I did two races in 2010, a 5K in July (33:13.41) and a 5 mile obstacle course run in October (55:07).
I'm currently training for a half marathon this August (13.1 miles for you laypeople). To date, my longest run has been 7 miles, which is 7 miles more than I ever thought I would want to run. Even though some runs are unpleasant, and training brings aches and pains, I've found a love in the most unlikeliest of activities. I am a runner, against all odds.
No, seriously, ask anyone I went to school with. I was always picked last for teams because I wasn't coordinated or fast or knowledgeable about sports in general. I was the girl that was relegated to the goalie position because I couldn't kick the ball or pass the puck and was of most use to my team standing in the background. I'd often be the one who lost the game for the team. Or the one who got schmucked with a hockey puck (substitute here "soccer ball", "basketball", "shuttlecock"... I do have to say the puck always hurt the most though.)
Running in gym was the worst. Whenever I was forced to run down and up our middle school's version of Heartbreak Hill, I was always in the back of the pack, huffing and puffing and praying to God that it would be over soon. And oh, the horrible side stitches... I think every picture my parents have of me at our school's annual track and field event shows me hunched over, clutching my right diaphragm, with a look of part agony, part terror (part nausea?) on my face.
However, as the years wore on, physical activity did gradually become more important to me, if only as a way to offset the physical decline that often comes with improper eating habits and stress. I begrudgingly began running, since that seemed like the best calorie burner. I'd lace up my shoes and jog around the block often enough, but running was never enjoyed, never craved, never looked forward to. It was a chore, something to dread and finish as soon as possible. I never kept at it very long, running a few weeks tops before I'd start slacking off on workouts and taking long hiatuses.
But something changed last summer, I don't know what. Maybe it was the fact that I finally stuck with a running program long enough to get the elusive runners high for the first time. Or maybe it was that I first became aware of the awe-inspiring stories of marathoners and their accomplishments. Whatever the reason, running somehow became something I enjoyed. It became something to look forward to, a way to work out the stress of the day. It was a challenge, a way to show myself (and others) that I could do something unexpected. I did two races in 2010, a 5K in July (33:13.41) and a 5 mile obstacle course run in October (55:07).
I'm currently training for a half marathon this August (13.1 miles for you laypeople). To date, my longest run has been 7 miles, which is 7 miles more than I ever thought I would want to run. Even though some runs are unpleasant, and training brings aches and pains, I've found a love in the most unlikeliest of activities. I am a runner, against all odds.
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