My Return to Running

  

     If you are a vigilant follower here at HTH, then you've probably noticed that I haven't written about my own personal running endeavors as of late or really in quite sometime. There is a simple reason for that and that is because there just hasn't much to even write about. My slide into running oblivion began very simply, but I fell pretty hard. Last October 22nd, my XC team was running in our region race and I was running around the course cheering on my runners at each mile marker. This is something I do at every race. However, during the girl's race, I was running to the marker at Mile 2 and tripped on some dixie cups while running up the very short incline to the marker. I noticed my leg sort of felt weird, but didn't think anything about it. This is also something I do all the time. I trip. I'm clumsy. However, the next day I woke up and ran 10 miles and didn't notice anything. I was ready. I was already getting in the zone. In five short days, I would coach my team at the state xc meet, then drive with my sweet wife up to Atlanta to run my second marathon. I was way past ready. I was at the end of my two week taper. I had run almost 900 miles preparing to run a very fast marathon (for me). I had done all the speed workouts, the hill workouts, the tempo runs, the progression runs, the long runs, the stretching, the two-a-day runs, etc. I was going to cross the finish line in Atlanta and kiss my marathoning days good-bye because I'd have run two and enjoyed my time doing so. However, Sunday came along and my wife and I walked to Ingelside Village Pizza and when we got home, I noticed my achilles felt a little tight. I put some sport's lotion on it, rubbed it down, and went to bed. The next afternoon at xc practice, the tightness hadn't gone away, so I blew it off and walked with two girls who were hurt and taking it easy because they wanted to be healed come the state meet. I, again put some sport's lotion on it, rubbed it down, and tried not to panic. I decided I had put in the work and I would just wait to run again when I warmed up for the marathon on the morning of the race. I put a brace on and tried to take it easy for the next four days. Saturday morning rolled around and I coached the state xc meet and my achilles felt okay. I got excited. Around 5 that night, I decided to run for 30 minutes to see if I could run the marathon. I made it 15. I got angry. I got depressed. I pretended not to care. I lied. I didn't run the Atlanta Marathon. In fact, my dad told me not to run for 6 weeks. I listened for three. Ran a couple of times including my own turkey trot during Thanksgiving and once again felt my achilles calling me names I can't type here or really anywhere. I hung up the shoes as they say. I needed a break. I could use a rest. I'd run almost 4000 miles in three years. I'd wait till track season.

    Well, to make a long, depressing story shorter for your sake, three and a half months went by. I gained 10 lbs. I lost all of my fitness. Track rolled around and for a month I got into shape by getting my runners into shape. My achilles felt a little sore still, but I took it slow, or at least most of the time. Track season began and the running came to a complete halt almost. I lost what little fitness I had gained during preseason workouts very quickly and by the end of track season, I was barely getting in 10 miles a week. I was tired of not running, so I signed for "Macon's Hardest 5k" and trained for it the way you write a paper the night before it is due and proof-read it on the way to turn it in. I ran it hard and came in fourth and almost 3 minutes slower than my best. My achilles screamed at me like I had wronged it in so many ways. Then something wonderful happened, but it was very bad for my running career. Ford was born! And nothing cancels hobbies like a newborn baby. My newest hobbies became changing diapers, napping with Ford, walking around my neighborhood at strange hours of the night, and trying to not fall asleep while I taught Biology. I didn't mind. Ford is an awesome addition. We are blessed. I would give up running for little ole' FH. He's going to run with me soon. We are going to accomplish great things. He may even take me to the Olympics when he runs the 10000 meters or the marathon in 2028 or at least we can watch them together in 2016.

    Flash forward a couple months and I start back to running. I signed up for a half marathon. I began running at night to beat the heat. I begin with 12 miles a week, the moved up to 15, then 20, then 30. I am tired. My legs are sore. My lungs are learning how to breathe again while I run. My sweet mom even took me to Fleet Feet Sports and bought me a new pair of kicks! I am back at it. I am extra slow. I am still giving those 10 lbs. I gained a free ride around the Macon streets. But none of that matters. It is just good to be running again. I am counting down till Ford turns 8 months old because then I can break out the jogging stroller and we can hit it hard. My half marathon is in nine days. Cross country camp is in four days. XC season officially begins August 9th. I am back and it is so nice to cruise the streets and trails again in my own two shoes. 

  I wrote this post not to bore you into submission, but because in getting injured, becoming depressed about it, having to give up my goals, and then struggle to get back to running again, I have learned so much. It is common knowledge in running circles that one learns much more from failure than from success. That sounds so good when I tell it to my runners, but when I had to swallow it, it tasted horrible. However, it is so true. Somehow, I had lost a little of why I love to run. I have rediscovered that and so much more in the last several months. It hasn't been easy to get back to running, but it has been worth it. If you have been injured or just gotten injured, I hope you get something from this post. Running will wait for you. Get better. You may miss weeks, months, and even years, but it will wait for you. You may have to slow down. You may have to create new goals. However, no matter the pace, you will find your new pace and realize that running is about more than what you used to believe it did. I know I did. 

Happy running, reading, and be on the look out for my future races, 

David