I ran .8 miles this week. That’s it.
Okay, then .86 then the pain in my high ankle was so bad and burning so profoundly I stopped, walked home and then tried to not panic. It’s the same ankle I have consistently rolled, twisted and sprained over the last year. It hates me. I’m starting to resent it and would hate it back, but I kind of need it so at least it has that going for itself.
Not exactly the taper I had in mind. Then again, I did sprint across the airport TWICE. But was in raging pain both times trying to curse and cry at the misfortune.
After a warm embrace from the midwest #humidity (Hello Kentucky, it’s nice to see you) and a few days of work, I’m heading to Boston, filled with panic and fear…I went from wondering if I’d run the 26.2 miles (let’s face it 26.4, I’m a terrible hypotenizer) well to wondering if I will be able to run them at all.
I’ve iced, I’ve stretched, I’ve ibuprofened and no relief. I’m seeing an ART practitioner when I get to Boston to have thinks looked out, but right now I’m mostly embracing my inner Bon Jovi and “Livin on a Prayer”. I’m hoping for some relief, some magical stretch or even some tape that will lock this bad boy into place so I can do what I’ve set out to do.
Today I head into the clouds again, and make the final two legs of the journey to Boston. I’m hoping to land and find some good news when I get there.