Whose race am I running?

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.


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