One comment on yesterday’s post. Ouch. Guess no-one’s loving the running woman tales. Shame. Because I’m blatantly not going to stop. (Thanks for the love though Alex!)
Run my Route has become my best friend since I’ve started running. I would love to be the kind of free spirit that can just go out and run for an extended period of time but I just can’t. I need to have a purpose to my running, I need to know the route, no meandering for me.
I’ve got loads of 5km routes mapped out so I can mix things up and change things around and not get too bored in the same old routine. Heck I’d even planned out longer routes when I was considering running a 10km race. (It might still happen, I haven’t abandoned hope completely yet!)
Pretty much the only unanimous advice I’ve gathered about shin splints is that you have to start back slowly. Very slowly. This requires enormous amounts of patience, of which I am in short supply. I don’t want to take things slowly, I want to just start running again thank you very much.
But I was determined to be a good girl and seeing as the physiotherapist had made me promise I would take it slowly I had mapped out lots of shorter routes to start building back up.
First up – the 1km route.
I sailed round smoothly. I was feeling good. The inserts seemed to be doing a good job. I had no pain the next day. Super-duper.
Next up – the 2km route.
I had it all planned out and set off in the company of my i-pod to chug along. I figured 2km would take me about 15 minutes absolute tops, considering that I’m still regaining my fitness and trying to take things slowly.
So about half way round this route I think to myself, “Bloody hell woman, this seems like it’s been a lot longer than 1km, what’s wrong with you? You’re all out of breath and stuff?”
The longer I ran the more I beat myself up.
“Well this is brilliant. You’re never going to be able to run 5km by 17th July if you’re struggling this much to run 2km”
“How can you have lost this much fitness this quickly? How ridiculous”
“God you suck at life”
It was only when I was just round the corner from my Dad’s house that it dawned on me that maybe I should stop beating myself up. Or actually, I should continue beating myself up, but not for the fact that I was unfit but for the fact that I’m a complete idiot.
A trip to the Run my Route website confirmed that I am indeed a Grade A Fool.
When you plan your route you can choose to get the distance in mile or kilometres. Dumbass here really hadn’t run 2 kilometres There was a reason I was finding it pretty hard going. This person had run 2 miles. So I’d actually run 3.5km.
What a twat.
Not only did I feel like an idiot I really felt like an idiot because I couldn’t believe that I’d convinced myself to carry on running even though I knew I was running further than 2km. It’s quite scary in a way, talk about the power of the mind, what else might I be able to convince myself to do?!
And of course, because I’m an idiot I have been rewarded accordingly.
With shin splints.
I ran too far too quickly and now I have to pay the price and have managed to set myself back to zero. They’re not terrible, they’ve been worse and at least I know what they are now so can set about icing them and hoping for the best. But I am furious with myself for being so foolish.
I can’t say for definite that if I’d only run 2km then I’d be ok but I suspect this is the case. (Although I do have a record of being pretty hard on myself, hence this very story.)
I hate situations where you can’t pin the blame on anyone else and have to take full responsibility for your own actions. It makes me mad. Please can’t I blame someone else for my gross incompetency?
So I’m back to zero. I’m pretty busy this week so running would be out of the question anyway. I have a physiotherapy appointment on Friday, which I’m dreading because I’m going to have to confess to my sins and the Race for Life is looming ever closer and my fitness is receding further away.
So in a word - ARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!