Last weekend i ran my fifth half marathon. It was my slowest time yet. That’s okay, monster hills are not really my friend.
I woke up this morning and dragged my butt out for what is called a “recovery run.” The idea that you move all the lactic acid that’s built up in your muscles from the push of racing. When i run now i pay attention to all the various ailments i’ve had this year, especially the four stress fractures. My mind loves running, my body hates it. Chronic injury. Pain free runs are few and far between, but i’ve become pretty attuned to pain that i should listen too and other little ticks that are just my body disliking what i am doing to it.
During my run i had a whole new ouch. In my ankle. Interesting, i thought, i’ve never had ankle issues. I dragged myself to physio. Turns out my achilles is angry with me. Something about those hills which are still not my friend.
In the 19 months i’ve been running i have now injured every muscle group or bone in my legs except my hamstring. Hamstring, you’re on notice.