A Tentative Return to the Fold
I’ve given that Achilles tendon three weeks to heal thyself, and it’s being mighty stubborn about cooperating. As far as running injuries go, this is one that always takes awhile. That particular tendon is a real workhorse, so it can be hard to give it much time off if you are required to walk, which I am. And as sturdy as it is, it’s blood-poor. That also impedes the healing process and makes all the icing and massaging less helpful than if you were nursing, say, an inflamed IT band or pulled hamstring. But I also know that if the Achilles tears, you’re done. Not just for awhile, but forever. Runners do not come back from that one.
I’ve been devoting considerable time the last couple of weeks to riding the stationary bikes at the gym. It’s starting to grow on me. Hanging out Friday night with cyclists at my friend Mark’s 50th birthday party, I momentarily wondered if I could make the switch and actually ride outside. Then I realized it was just the Gordon Biersch brew messing with me. No, I’ll stick with bike wheels that spin into space for now.
The next morning I signed up for the track club’s Whatever Half Marathon Program, where we meet Saturdays to train for whatever race we want. A lot of us are eyeing the Silver Strand Half Marathon, the kindest course at that distance in San Diego. Others are interested in Orange County, Vegas, Honolulu and Carlsbad. I managed about 3 miles during which a trio of us moms recalled our childbirths – a great way to put my current pain in perspective. The ankle protested from the first step, but it also never worsened to the point I felt compelled to stop. I guess that’s progress.
I’ve been devoting considerable time the last couple of weeks to riding the stationary bikes at the gym. It’s starting to grow on me. Hanging out Friday night with cyclists at my friend Mark’s 50th birthday party, I momentarily wondered if I could make the switch and actually ride outside. Then I realized it was just the Gordon Biersch brew messing with me. No, I’ll stick with bike wheels that spin into space for now.
The next morning I signed up for the track club’s Whatever Half Marathon Program, where we meet Saturdays to train for whatever race we want. A lot of us are eyeing the Silver Strand Half Marathon, the kindest course at that distance in San Diego. Others are interested in Orange County, Vegas, Honolulu and Carlsbad. I managed about 3 miles during which a trio of us moms recalled our childbirths – a great way to put my current pain in perspective. The ankle protested from the first step, but it also never worsened to the point I felt compelled to stop. I guess that’s progress.
