I’ve had a rough few weeks flirting with the dreaded bench.
I knew I hadn’t been right since Carlingford half but put it down to shin splints and did what I could to keep on running that equates as an unhealthy obsession and dependence on deep heat, foam rolling, anti-inflamatories and complete ignorance towards being injured.
It wasn’t until I went to physio to begin my big mile love and care for my legs that I realised that it wasn’t just an ongoing bout of shin splints. The look on Grainnes face when she came across the lump was of shocked followed by ‘how long has this been like this.’
I managed my 20.6 mile at Knockagh grand with taking it easy and a good pain killer strategy. Though knew I was going to have to take time off after.
So began 10 days on the injury bench and zero running after the Monday night session with The Running Coaches beginners and progressives and 7 miles of cursing Dermot up and down whilst in agnony. The fact that for once I really meant even word I procrastinated about the whole way round was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Needless to say the 3 physio appointments and complete rest in those 10 days have had a profound effect on what ever yon lump in my leg is, it just hasn’t totally disappeared yet.
Of course 10 days not running was playing havoc with marathon training and my mind. Although I’d trained for a spring marathon (that I wasn’t running) and had all the miles I needed in the legs I feared being back at square 1 so the need to long run was my priority with Derry getting closer by the day. So I decided to take the risk and get out there.
My first port of call was the bike. So agreeing to join Caitriona for her 16 miler I was going to just be a mobile water station. So getting my miles one way or another. However the night before, I realised that the front tyre wasn’t for staying blown up and took it as a sign that I was meant to run after all.
Let’s face it this decision was going to produce 1 of 2 results. 1 being that of pure devastation that I wasn’t much better and couldn’t run or 2 I was still moving and able to function if only for a few mile and I could build up again.
Thankfully as we set off at ridiculously early o’clock on Saturday morning, the result was the latter. The first mile was a cautious one. On a predominately flat route along the Dundrum Road, I found my rhythm and talking a lot more than normal to move focus off my body I was soon content that I’d make the first 6 mile. In moments of silence..yes they do occur, Caitriona prompted me to keep talking and shift my focus until it was elsewhere.
It was a beautiful morning as the sun came up over Dundrum Bay. There were few cars on the road which you would expect at 7am on Easter Saturday morning and it was just us and the path.
In order to alleviate as much pressure as possible I wore my DCM shorts for the first time since then and compression socks. Even I had to laugh at the state of myself. I am not built for such an ensemble. But luckily running isn’t a fashion parade and if it worked I didn’t care.
Caitriona had masterminded a new route for us moving from the confines of the park and into public view. Parking at the 12 Arches and heading out towards Mount Panter, back through Dundrum taking the old roads back to the car. Measuring 6.2 perfect. This worked well for fuelling and water stops so for the next 10 mile we headed for Newcastle.
With intentions to do a tour of the town and back to base, The thought of moving through streets and houses on such a sunny morning filled me with dread. We had got to just short of 8 as we approached Newcastle and decided that if we turned back, we’d refuel at 10 and do another loop of the same route. With the wind minimal and knowing the scenic route ahead it was a no brainer and on hitting 8 mile we turned back towards Murlough.
At this stage the world had woken up and enroute to club run and Longstone 10k there were many fellow MAC members spotting us and tooting as they passed.
At 12 mile I was was going to throw Caitriona into the Bay. As she tentatively suggested that she didn’t have 16 in her at 12 mile there was no way in hell I had come this far to turn back. So as I ran out in front to let her focus on me and keep her going we got to the 3 mile to go point and turned for the trip back. With a comfortable sub 3 half which is my aim for every long training run.
I’ll admit I was beginning to faulter myself but the knowing the end was near and the elation that I hadn’t felt pain since the initial mile or 2 was keeping me going and keeping me positive. As we arrived back at the car park I had literally one lap to do to get the 16 mile mark. I also discovered that there was a mini round about at the bottom of the car park that I didn’t know about.
Leg still attached and the usual post long run niggles I was relieved and delighted that we had made it. In the shadows of the Mourns Mountains we headed for Taras to meet the club ones who had all been out doing their own runs this morning including the London crew on their last long taper run before the big day.
With a chilled glass of water, a pot of tea and a slice of this calorific goodness it was the perfect post run reward.
So today I woke up and worried that there might be consquences. However no immediate pain and nothing more than what I already had in the background. So it seems it was a sign that that tyre on the bike wouldn’t blow up… I was meant to run.
Long may it last