Training for my half-marathon is being hindered by my calf. I hydrate, I eat bananas, I rest it, ice it, stretch it, massage it (and other connecting muscles), but after 2 miles yesterday it cramped up again. Something else is wrong, I fear.
This setback has got me thinking about whose race I am running. I like to run most days, love to run many days. Lately, running has left me with a sense of dread, fear, or shear avoidance. Getting back to running after baby #2 I may have jumped in a little too quickly. I was impressed with my speed. I could keep up with my (much faster) BRF. Yet, I know the physiology. Too many runs taxing my lungs, heart, and legs without running my “easy” pace will lead to problems.
And, problems I have.
After yesterday’s run, I texted my BRF and said, “Made it 2. Then my leg hated me….At this point I would be happy just to be able to run.” I signed up for this race as motivation to get back in to my love, my therapy, my sidewalk-pounding, sweat inducing joy of a sport. Mentally, the race is looming over me like the gray clouds that won’t leave central Ohio. Mocking me and my lame-o calf.
Backing out, since there are only 6-weeks left and I haven’t run futher than 3 miles in 3-weeks, is probably the healthiest action I can take. Then, I can heal and get back to the race I love. Running at my pace.