I might be in the hunt for a new nickname
I think ‘Turtle’ would be appropriate…
It was another adventure in slow running last night. Due to a physio appointment yesterday afternoon my muscles were still sore from the deep tissue massage. That, coupled with only just getting returning to back-to-back running days, left my legs feeling really tired before I’d even laced up. I tried to push on in the middle of the run and managed to get close to half-marathon pace, but I could tell I was pushing so I wound it back in. Maybe ‘Tortoise’ sounds better?
Speaking of physiotherapy…
Bizarrely, I currently have two physiotherapists who share my treatment. The senior physiotherapist is pretty used to dealing with
crazy keen runners, with many marathoners on his books, however due to his busy schedule I can’t get in to see him twice a week. His treatments are pretty aggressive and he trusts what I’m telling him about my response to the treatment. This means he treats me at the edge of what I can handle (yes, I curse and grunt, and even came close to a tear in one particularly heavy session), however the flip-side is that he was happy for me to get back into running when I could do 25 calf raises without pain. Herein lies the problem. The junior physiotherapist had different ideas and wanted me to have another two weeks of treatment before starting calf exercises. Six weeks off exercise for a Grade 1 calf strain? You can see where this is going…
Anyway, long story short – after seeing the senior physio last week I went straight back to running, and when I saw my other physio yesterday, she was obviously put out when she asked if I could walk down stairs without pain and I replied that I had no problems during the four runs I had completed since last seeing her. Sure, she was happy to see my improvement, and did note that my flexibility and strength were much improved since she first saw me, but I couldn’t help feeling that I had somehow hurt her feelings or snubbed her in some way. She was also quite non-committal about me running the Benfleet 15 on Sunday. The response I was hoping for was “You’ve done 5 runs and 40km this week, just take it slow and for the love of God, warm up properly!”. Instead I got “Hmmm. You know your body best…”.
Hmmm, that’s true, but I also know my mind, and it has been prone to gross over-exaggeration of levels of fitness and preparedness in the past. I was hoping for at least some level of objective critique on my actual state of readiness.
So. Tally time:
5 good runs and no pain. Good.
Both physiotherapists have different options. Bad.
But both agree that my recovery is going very well. Good.
And I feel strong. Not fast, but strong. Good.
That’s three out of four – 75/25 for running.
Oh, who am I kidding! Let’s face it, 75/25 means 100% I’m going to run this race. Peanut butter or not…
Happy running everyone!
Get Going, Get Running!
p.s. I think I’ll go with ‘Turtle’. Rolls off the tongue better…