Whenever I’ve heard the news that an athlete has had to pull out of the Olympics due to injury, I’ve felt kind of sorry for them. But now, myself injured, I can somewhat appreciate the mental torture these athletes must go through.
Not that I’m putting myself in the same category as Olympic athletes – even though I feel like Flo Jo when I’m pounding the pavement (minus the ‘roids, of course).
My shin splints are healing and I should buy shares in Neurofen. My running has ground to a halt. And it’s been hell. Mentally and physically.
Right now, I’m down. But I’m definitely not out.
Last night, I went for round two of deep tissue massage with my Australian physio. Surely the pain was comparable to child birth. It made me sweat, swear and I even dribbled on the carpet through the breathing hole in the table. I had the physio in stitches. For an hour, she dug her fingers into the muscles next to my shins. I tell you, I nearly burst the veins in my neck. The physio told me they were the tightest calves she’d seen in a while… Arnold Schwarzenegger calves on a puny Pee Wee Herman body… no wonder my darn boots don’t fit anymore!
To let my legs heal, I spend all day with my legs in the freezer, I chew anti-inflammatories like tic tacs and I swim. Swim in the mankiest, skankiest pools in the entire world. London – your pools STINK!!!
This weekend I’ll attempt to get back into my running shoes. 10 miles – 5 miles then walk to check my shins are OK – then another 5. I’m a nervous wreck.
So I’m still working towards that goal. 26 miles in just over six weeks.
It seems like a long shot – but it ain’t over till the physio sings.
Just because I’m injured, don’t think you shouldn’t sponsor me! http://www.justgiving.com/KirstenLodge