Run, Zumba, Run, Soak

Yesterday I went on a little running adventure with my sister.  Julie started running a while back, but it is not her most favorite thing.  While she does like to stay fit, she doesn't like running as much as I do.  And that is A-OK.  While it is my favorite form of exercise it is not THE only form of exercise and I think everyone should do what they love to stay fit. Anyway, Julie is training for the same half-marathon I am running in March and I made out her training plan.  And since Julie has joined me on many runs and rambles, I decided it was only fair to join her on her little running adventure.

One thing Julie does love is Zumba. I like it too, but I am not very good at it and in gym classes I tend to be a clock watcher. Julie's plan was to run from her house to the gym (3 miles), do her Zumba class (1 hour), and then run back home.  I said I was game and Mom said she'd come babysit.  Julie's kids came to my house and I went to Julie's and we started from there.

The run to Zumba was great.  I was feeling fresh and my leg which had begun hurting the day before was feeling fine.  I'm not sure what was wrong, but for some reason the day before my ankle and calf hurt and as always when I get close to a race little pains like that freak me out.  So I foam rolled it, used the stick, and put Emu oil on it after my shower.  When Jason got home he suggested I put on a compression sock.

Now, I'm going to confess that I have often made fun of runners wearing compression socks.  Mostly in my  mind and maybe to Jason, but they always make me grin inside.  It seemed for a while brand new runners would immediately get a pair and begin wearing them on every single run... and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.  The big talkers in our running community wore (wear) them too and I wasn't sure if they were injured or if they believed the compression prevented injury or if the socks made them faster... Jason always used them when traveling before a big event and for recovery afterward, and for some reason that always seemed more reasonable to me.  So when Jason suggested it, I went into his sock drawer and got one, but I was thinking, "this is not going to last very long." 

But surprisingly enough it felt really good!  So when I got up Thursday morning to join Julie for our run Zumba run workout, I put it back on as a preventative measure (although what I was preventing, I wasn't entirely sure).  I felt kind of silly and kind of hardcore.  Running.  With a compression sock.  Oooooo. 

So Julie and I got to Zumba and we shook our groove thangs to the beat.  Let me add here that I haven't got a SIGN of a groove thang.  Not even a hint.  The back of my shorts looks exactly like the front of my shorts.  And not only do I not have a groove thang to shake, I was wearing green tempo shorts (not flattering), a red marathon shirt (neither here nor there), 1 orange compression sock (hardcore runner statement) and running shoes in a room full of black tights and groove thangs.  I couldn't look in the mirror, so I just watched the instructor and pretended I was doing exactly what she was doing. 

I was a little relieved when it was over and I could get back to my thing.  I told Julie running was definitely easier than what we'd just spent the last hour doing.  The thing about Zumba is you spend the entire class trying to keep up and do the moves, so you don't realize that you are pouring with sweat, tired, and out of breath. But when we got back to running I thought, "Ahhhh yes."  Much better.

It was a little chillier running home as the wind was now at hour faces and we had gotten hot and sweaty in Zumba.  We made it back, however, and Julie hopped in the shower as I drove home.  I got home and hopped in the tub for a soak.  My friend Shannon had given me some epsom salt and I wanted to soak out my sore muscles (Jillian Michaels) and the calf/ankle.  I'd been wanting to soak ever since I got the salts but soaking with a wee bairn around can be challenging.  Julie stopped by Chick-fil-a on the way to my house and brought me a grilled chicken sandwich, which I ate in the tub.  Such service.  I got out, got dressed and generously applied more Emu oil before joining Julie and Ma for a cup of coffee and chat. 

So the Run, Zumba, Run, Soak was a success and I had a great time.  I'm probably going to focus solely on running until my March half-marathon (okay...and after that as well), but it was fun to get out of my element and shake what my mamma gave me... what little there is anyway.

Running for the Holidays

I love my daily Garfield comic.  Especially around Christmas time because he is always up to something hilarious having to do with this most fun holiday season.  And like Garfield, I am always thinking about it and planning for it - my gift purchases, gag gifts for dirty Santa (Jason and I had a pretty good laugh about that last night), cookie baking, Christmas tree decorating, office parties, watching Caroline in The Nutcracker ballet, and writing Christmas cards.  Then there's looking forward to Christmas Day, and I'm like a 5 year old on Christmas Eve...beginning as soon as December gets here.

And now the countdown is on!  Only 9 more work days and 16 days total until Christmas.  I don't know how I'm supposed to concentrate at work.  I'm already planning to spend my lunch break getting a few last minute items and present wrapping tonight. 

There's also running during the holidays.  I love this time of year because when I am on vacation, I can run whenever I want!  I can still go early in the morning with the girls (and the promise of a nap later) or I can wait until the sun is high and the temperature is as warm as its going to get, and run then.  I can run long or short or twice a day if I want.  And lets face it, with all the Christmas goodies, a few extra miles in the sunshine is definitely warranted!

This past weekend was what would have been the 50 mile.  I thought of it Friday when Jason and I would have been headed to Florida, and I thought of it Saturday as I drove to meet Shannon for a brisk morning run and then as I met with my first Running Start client after that.  Sunday I realized I would have been recovering and wondered what the aftermath would have been.  But even as I thought all of these things, I was not sad.  Was it the Christmas season?  The fact that my knee seemed a little less angry?  Something else?  I like to think it was a little of everything with God's grace mixed in.  I think He knows the desires of our hearts and what brings us joy.  And despite the fact that I gave up the goal this time around, I still feel so blessed, so taken care of and watched over. 

So I'm not sad.  And my knee isn't either.  And as the holidays approach I will be able to run in the sunshine on a cool winter's day.  That's pretty great.  So is this second Garfield comic.

 

Hilarious!  Here's hoping you are all looking forward to some GREAT running for the holidays!

The Knee Knob Strikes Again

As many of you regular readers know, I have a little injury I have dubbed, "the knee knob."  I acquired this injury during a 50 mile trail run in October last year when my knee and the trail came to a disagreement and collided. The result was a calcium deposit that now sits on my knee right where my IT band and several other things intersect, which means if I don't keep those things super loose, the knob gets extremely angry and sore. 

If you are a regular reader you may also know (possibly more than you cared to) about my current 50 mile ultra training.  I have chronicled it every week, written countless posts on my thoughts, my training, my strategy, my doubt, my friends who help me with my doubt, etc.

That is why I think if you are a regular reader it may come as a bit of a surprise that I am not going to be running the 50 mile ultra this Saturday.  I feel sort of ridiculous now that I have written about it ad nauseam and now, in the 11th hour, I am changing my mind.  It seems like a lot of big talk and no action.  I know.  And it wasn't an easy decision to make, even if I know it to be the right one. 

So let me explain.  I have been able to run and train like I wanted (mostly), and even if the knee knob did complain somewhat during the run, it was not so bad and usually let up.  It was after each run that it complained the loudest.  When I'd get up from my desk at work, a certain amount of hobbling (sometimes groaning) would ensue.  It was stiff and angry.  Going up or down stairs hurt as well.  At night, when I would fold myself up on the couch under a quilt, getting up was painful and many times it was hard to straighten out my knee after being still for so long.

I was also not as consistent with the foam roller as I should have been, nor with my stretching and grand plans to hit up a yoga class regularly.  And the next morning I was up and at it again, allowing myself to ignore the previous evening's hobbling and creakiness.

After witnessing this over and over again, Jason talked to me about it.  We decided that if I wanted to continue running - after the 50 mile and on into the future - maybe now was not the time to attempt such a long run with such a moody knee.  He felt awful even bringing it up since I'd been looking forward to it for so long, but I knew he was right and I agreed.  And if I'm honest with myself as I look back, I have not been able to train as hard as I would have liked due to the knee knob and my caution because of it.  While I may have trained enough to go the distance, it wasn't what I had planned, and I think you have seen that in my weekly training posts. 

So while I am disappointed to give up this adventure I've been looking forward to for so long, I'm also a little relieved.  I was concerned about the aftermath of this 50 mile run, and I am not a big fan of taking time off.  I want to run every day and I want to feel good.  More than conquering new distances and better finish times is that fact.  I simply love to run and it is my hope that I will be able to run as long as I live and desire to do so.

And so, as wishy-washy, ridiculous and odd as it may seem given what you've been reading the last few months, the verdict is out and I will not be running the 50 mile this weekend.  Saturday may be tinged with a hint of disappointment as I think (or try not to think) about how I am not in Florida going the distance, and even as so many friends run and pace the Rocket City Marathon that day, but I know I've made the right decision and for the most part I am at peace with it. 

The Untrained Triathlete

This weekend I will be participating in the Fall Creek Falls Triathlon, which was my very first Olympic distance tri last year.  I'm excited about doing this one again.  It is like a rematch.  I had a great time last year (experience, not finish time, although I wasn't complaining about that either since it was my first).  Fall Creek Falls is beautiful and the course (especially the run) showcases the very best parts. 

Since the Music City Triathlon this year, however, I have not been in the pool much (and by much, I mean maybe once or twice) and the cycling has been spotty as well.  I had gotten too caught up in finish times and training that I lost the fun aspect, so I allowed myself to chill out with the triathlon training and just do what I love.  Which is run.  And run.  And run.  A little weight training.  And lots of running.  Which is exactly how I like it.  I'm a runner who dabbles in the triathlon over the summer.  I just forgot for a while. 

So, as the Fall Creek Falls Triathlon approaches...I shake my head at my lack of training (swimming and cycling) and grin a little sheepishly wondering how in the world this one will go.  I had a lot of fun last year, so I am looking forward to that part.  But I'd be telling a tale if I didn't admit that despite my relaxed attitude toward my training the past few weeks, I'd still like to do well. 

On top of that, I did this crazy thing to my shoulder this morning.  I stretched, and all hell broke lose.  My alarm went off at 5:00am.  My plan was to get up in time to run more than the usual 2 miles before running with my No Boundaries group at 5:45 and then run 2 miles home, making for 5 or 6 miles before work.  I turned off my alarm and reached overhead, getting one good long stretch in before getting up.  When I let it go, my right shoulder started to hurt.  And then it started to hurt really bad.  I got up and took some ibuprofen thinking it would loosen up with movement.  But it didn't.  I couldn't even get dressed.  I quickly texted Julie and Julia to let them know they would have to lead the run without me, and grabbed an ice pack. 

I couldn't sit and I couldn't stand without pain.  I couldn't turn my head.  I may have uttered an expletive as Jason woke up and offered to rub icy hot on it. I let him and then proceeded to try and find a position that was comfortable.  I eventually drifted back to sleep.

Upon waking an hour later, I think it has improved somewhat.  It is still angry, but subdued.  When time allows, I will take more ibuprofen, add ice and/or heat, and ask Jason for another icy hot treatment (which makes me smell like toothpaste).  Good grief.  Be careful when stretching in the morning.  Apparently it is dangerous. 

So what does Fall Creek Falls have in store?  Who knows!  Beauty, for sure.  Fun, you know it.  A great weekend with Jason, no doubt.  But a good triathlon finish... well... we will see, won't we.  Have a great weekend, my friends, and do something you LOVE!

Knee Knobs and Foam Sticks

So I have this really strange injury...at least it is strange to me because it is not one of your run of the mill running injuries (that I know of), such as tendonitis, shin splints, plantar fasciitis, IT band syndrome...etc.  This we shall call the knee knob.  I believe the knee knob was acquired during the 50 mile trail run I did last October.  Around mile 37 I took a hard fall, landing with my body weight and my running momentum all on my right knee.  For the first few seconds, I thought I would need to be medically evacuated by helicopter from those woods...but it passed.  I was skinned and bloodied, but I was still able to finish the run.

Ta da!

I did not notice the knee knob until sometime in December when I was shaving my legs and compared the right knee knob to the left knee knob.  There was a considerable and somewhat alarming difference between the two.  I'd been running on it since the trail run, and there had been some discomfort, but it usually loosened up around the first half mile and I was fine after that. So I kept running.  I didn't realize there was a knot there.  It is only noticeable when my knee is bent.  It juts out farther than it should, but even then if you don't know knees, you might not notice it.

I showed it to Jason and he wasn't sure what it was.  I showed it to my friend, Shannon, who is a physical therapist, and she hadn't seen anything like it.  I trained for and ran a PR marathon in February on it, and it didn't seem any worse for the wear so...I kept running.

Eventually, however, the pain began to escalate.  It would still calm down after about a half mile, but the pain during that first half mile slowly became more intense and began to linger a bit longer.  I went to see a sports doctor who took x-rays and told me it was a calcium deposit that forms on a bone that has taken a trauma.  She said to keep my IT band, and the muslces around it loose, because they ran right by it, but that in and of itself, it should not hurt me.  She said I could keep doing what I was doing.  I happily skipped down the stairs and out of her office believing myself to be in the clear.  It would heal eventually.  These things just take time.

Well, we are sneaking up on a year.  A year of the knee knob and this has me worried.  The pain is pretty intense now, and when I sit for long periods of time or first get out of bed, it is pretty rough.  This is not super motivating at 5:00 am when I want to get out and run.  The promise of pain with those first steps is not something I look forward to, and now I have to stop, stretch and rub in the first mile to be able to continue.

The only thing I know to do is what the doctor told me.  I've got to get that leg loose.  I know my IT band is insanely tight because the entire span of my leg is tender to the touch.  I see my massage therapist twice a month for an hour long torture session and despite how often I try to steal the strange purple tool of pain she uses on my IT band, she always catches me. 

I don't need to wait for an appointment with her, however, to inflict pain upon myself and my stretching delinquency.  I have my very own tool of torture and it is called the foam roller. 

The foam roller can be your very best friend and feel heavenly IF the spot you are rolling is in good working order.  If it is not... just remember to breathe.  It takes all I have to place the side of my leg on that roller and roll slowly back and forth.  I make faces, moan, Chance checks on me only to be told he has to move, and I try to breathe.  I chastise myself for getting into this position in the first place.  Running is great.  Running far is wonderful.  But if you don't tend to the body you are using so thoroughly, it will eventually revolt.

Mine is in revolt.

I plan to ice, but I have not gotten around to it yet.  I've considered an Ibuprofen regimen for a few days in order to get any inflammation down and on its way to healing (I'm just not sure if that is harmful to other parts or not).  I've increased my stretching, shortened my runs (somewhat and grudgingly), and incorporated the foam roller (I feel like that should have horror music playing in the background while Dracula reads those words aloud).

I'm also trying to focus more on my diet, and eat what I consider to be healing foods (mostly fruits and veggies...blueberries...Greek yogurt...things I come up with in my head that seem healing...Hershey bars...).

It is a tad disheartening as I look back at this time last year.  Training so unsuspectingly for my first 50 mile ultra.  Hitting high mileage each week, injury free and feeling great (somewhat tired, but great).  Doing triathlons for fun amidst all that mileage...it was a great summer.  I want this one to be great too.  I've just got to take care of the knee knob.

The Perils of the Ice Pack

One of the most effective ways for me to conquer the aches and pains that running sometimes causes is to apply ice. I’ve been through many ice packs in my lifetime, and when an ice pack isn’t available, a good ole’ Ziploc bag of ice cubes will work.

For about a month now I’ve been dealing with some back pain. I was worried the problem was in my spine so I went to see a chiropractor who took x-rays, and thankfully, my spine was in great shape. I figured the pain must be due to some disgruntled muscles back there, and so I’ve been stretching and icing and icing and stretching as much as I can.

Things have been improving, but every once in a while, the muscles begin to grumble and complain, and I return to my ice pack for help.

This past Friday was one of those days. I was planning to leave work early that day to head to a girls’ weekend and I did NOT have time for back pain. I got the ice back from the freezer, stuck it down my pants (that was the only way I knew to hold it in place), and continued completing my tasks so I could leave when planned.

Forty-five minutes later (much too long for ice pack administration) I took it out of my pants and put it back in the freezer. I put my hand on my back to see how cold it was, and felt something hard, like part of the ice pack itself was stuck back there. Once in my office I looked…and saw that a patch of my skin was frozen solid.

This was a little freaky. I wasn’t sure exactly what to do so I sat back down and continued to work, only to feel my back continue to get hotter…and hotter…and hotter.

Finally, I decided to go down the hall to see my friend Christi for help. She was a mom so surely she’d know some first aid or something.

Christi was a little freaked out too, so we Googled it and sure enough, there was a picture online that looked exactly like my back. It was frostbite! Christi said that our fellow running friend, Shandry was a nurse and that maybe she’d know what to do. She called Shandry (who was a little surprised that someone could get frostbite in 70 degree weather), and she said that as long as it didn’t turn black or blue, I was going to be ok. She said not to irritate it, and the skin would be fine.

Amidst the laughter (because who DOES this sort of thing to themselves) we decided I would, in fact, live through this so I went back to my office to finish off the day’s work. I eventually confessed to Jason, who thought I’d lost my marbles…and I had to tell the girls about it this weekend, since at some point they would probably see. I’m sure the consensus is that I am a complete scatterbrain who cannot be trusted with the simplest of remedies…

But I have learned my lesson and will heretofore be careful with ice packs and make sure I have something between the ice pack and my skin…to prevent further…injury.

Things Fall Apart

A marathon can be full of surprises, both good and bad. As I began the Rocket City Marathon on a cold December day, I believed I knew how things were going to go. Aiming for a 4:15, I knew it would be challenging and I would grow weary, but I’ve run through fatigue and I was sure I could do so again. I also suspected that an old injury might crop up. Ever since the Flying Monkey Marathon in November, there have been hints that all was not right, but I believed I could run through old injuries as well. I knew what they were, and if I could take the discomfort, I could deal with the injury after the race.

What I wasn’t expecting was something brand new.

I stayed on pace, running mostly 9:20s and 9:30s until mile 21. I was getting tired and my right knee was sending some major discomfort my way due to an overused IT band (that is the band running from your hip to your foot down the outside of your leg). Still, I was hanging in there, paying attention to the pace on my garmin and I believed I could conquer IT band issues and the weariness I was beginning to feel.

I was running with some guys from Scottsboro. One was named Joey and this was his first marathon, meant to be a training run for a later race. Another was named Wayne and he was the most talkative of the group. I was grasping for any diversion and so I jumped into their conversation and decided that if I stuck with them, I’d get my 4:15. They were running slightly under 10 minute miles, and since I had plenty of seconds to play with, I would be on target if I stayed with them.

I saw several friends along the way and this helped more than I can say. Julie and Caroline were at mile 17.9 and I counted down the miles until I got there. I could not wait to see them. I stopped for a brief stretch and said hello, declining the donut half Caroline offered. I also saw Christi Doyle, Holley Gautney, Laura Charette and with each familiar face and each encouraging cheer, I felt bolstered with energy.

As we (my three new buddies and I) continued to run, my pain was getting increasingly worse. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from but it was as if the whole lower half of me was beginning to severely tighten, like a full body cramp. Joey held back with me, talking and offering encouragement, until I finally had to stop for another stretch and he went on.

Around mile 22 I was in agony. I had no idea what was wrong, but the space between my back all the way to my feet hurt so badly I could hardly walk. I stretched, I bent forward, I squatted, I tried to stretch my IT band, nothing made it subside. I finally sat on the side of the road hoping that a brief moment of rest would help. My 9:45 pace dropped swiftly to a 14 minute pace, but I was still on target and if this pain would only subside, I could run again.

Around mile 23 I began to worry. The pain was NOT going away and I had no idea what was wrong. This would be TWO 14 minutes miles and I did not have that much time to play with in order to get my 4:15. Still, anything faster than a 4:21 would give me a personal record, and I was willing to take that.

Half way through mile 23 I asked myself, “is it really less painful to walk?” The answer was no. Everything hurt no matter what I did, so why not run? I started jogging at a 12 minute pace and then at an 11:30. It wasn’t great, but it felt like things were loosening up and soon I was back to the familiar IT band pain. I wanted to cry several times, but crying only constricts airways and I needed those to work for me. I tried looking mean and determined hoping that would make me mean and determined on the inside, but the pain took away any resolve I had in the mean department.

Christi Doyle was standing outside her house around mile 24, and when I saw her face, I wanted to run over there and hug her (and then go inside for some coffee and a bed). She ran around the corner with me, giving encouragement, and then I saw Jason.

I’d wanted to see him so badly, that when I did it was all I could do not to hug him too. He knew something was wrong because by this time I was not going to make any sort of personal record and my running was obviously labored. I tried not to cry once more as I told him about the strange pain I’d experienced earlier.

Having Jason by my side seemed to make everything better. Even though I was weary beyond belief and my right knee didn’t want to bend anymore, it was somehow ok since he was there. He ran to the finish line with me and told me he’d meet me on the other side. The announcer said my name and told the crowd I was the other half of the Jason and Jane Reneau running team, which made me laugh.

I was relieved beyond words to be done…just in time to be revisited by the full body cramp. Jason walked me inside and I made a beeline for the first chair I saw. It was hard to sit still because then the pain just washed over me again and again, but I could hardly walk, everything was so tight! After about 15 minutes of this, Jason made me walk to the medical room. I sat on the floor (which was strangely warm) and a nurse came out and talked with me.

Since I wasn’t feeling numbness or tingling, I was going to be all right. I told her I’d run marathons before but had never experienced anything like this. She herself had run them too and she said sometimes surprises happen. I don’t know if it was the warmth of the floor or the fact that my body realized I was really going to stop, but the pain went away and did not return.

As bad as it had been those last few miles and even though I did not reach the goal I was aiming for, I still view the race as a success. In the past, “bad” marathons usually meant 5 hours or more. I finished in 4 hours and 29 minutes plus change, and I couldn’t be upset about that. I’d pushed through something difficult and that too felt rewarding.

I’m still not sure what happened out there. Jason and I talked about it on the way home and with a marathon in October and another in November with fast 5ks and half marathons in between, it is not so surprising that I couldn’t keep that up for another month. Maybe I didn’t hydrate enough; maybe my body was depleted of something it needed. Whatever the case, I’d rather not experience that again.

This brings me to today - 3 in the morning to be exact. My aching legs woke me up and while nowhere near what I experienced during the race, they were enough to get me out of bed for some ibuprofen, cereal, and reflection. I’m now merely passing the time until I feel it is late enough to make coffee while hopefully not waking Jason.

I wish things had turned out differently, because I’d put so much hope in the day. Still, with all of that trouble at the end, Jason and I managed to come in third in the married couples division, and that is just fun, even if I didn’t contribute much to the placement. And with a brand new year beginning soon, I can’t help but see the possibility for new records in 2009. Lord willing, I will have many more opportunities for a 4:15 and better, just as I will have many opportunities for new surprises (both good and bad) along the way.

The Interruption of Injury

I’ve been watching the Olympics almost every night since they started. And while they are definitely inspiring, they are nerve-racking and exciting and heart-breaking at the same time. I’ve watched athletes with triumphant finishes and I’ve watched athletes with crushing defeats and shattered hopes. I’ve watched athletes with injuries and mistakes not make it to the finish, and my heart goes out for them.

Even though I want the US to win in everything, I can’t help but support other teams who have worked so hard to get to where they are. When the program does a spotlight on an Olympian, I start feeling like I know them and I want them to succeed.

From Liu Xiang, China’s hope for a track and field victory, to Lolo Jones who everyone knew had it in the bag, these stories broke my heart for these runners who had worked so hard only to have an injury or mistake that kept them from the gold in what should have been their finest hour.

And then I had a little mishap of my own that gave me a moment of panic and frustration last night. Not that I in any way compare to these Olympians, I don’t. But what we DO have in common is a goal of some sort that requires us to train hard, to push, to start even when we are tired, and to give it all we’ve got when the moment of truth arrives.

Tuesday morning I ran 9 miles, 4.5 with my friend Mimi, and 4.5 alone. I strategically placed Eastview (a murderous hill in Madison) in the midst of both routes so that I would have to climb it twice. The relay we are to run will have elevation similar to the hills of Eastview, and so I try to fit it in at least once a week, using Cecil Ashburn for the other hill-work day.

Even with 9 miles run already, I knew that for the relay I’d be running several times a day, and so a double or two each week would be a good idea. Jason was going to run the Cross Country Run Tuesday night, so I packed some clothes and planned to go too.

I hadn’t planned on trying to run fast, but it is hard to do when surrounded by other runners who are keeping a good pace. I gave myself a word of warning as we hit the trails. I haven’t been running trails at all, and while these are not the most difficult Huntsville has to offer, they are filled with rocks, roots, and plenty of uneven terrain.

I knew I should probably slow down, but I’d made up my mind not to let the runner behind me catch me so I ran as fast as I could, trying to watch my step as I went.

On the last mile of the run, my foot struck too close to the edge and my ankle turned inward. I yelped and corrected, still running. The pain wasn’t bad at first, just a little notification that something wasn’t right. As I ran, though, the pain increased slowing me down and letting the guy behind me pass (two guys, in fact).

By the time I finished it was throbbing. I looked for Jason trying not to panic. I wanted to cry, not from the pain, but because I didn’t have time for an injury and I had no idea if it was a bad one or not.

I told Jason and he looked at it. It had not started to swell and that was a good sign. He gave me strict orders to head home, shower, and get ice on it as fast as I could. I called my mom on the way home and she seconded his instructions. “Ice it until you feel like your bone is going to fall off,” she said.

I followed instructions and this morning my range of motion had improved. I’m icing it as I write. I’m planning to take today off, but tomorrow is Cecil Ashburn with Kristi and it has swiftly become my favorite run of the week.

Last week I ran a total of 57 miles. That is a first in the life of this running gal. I’m aiming for another 50 miler and then maybe a 40 before I begin to taper for the relay. I think this ankle will be fine, and for that I am extremely grateful!

Even though I’m no Olympian, I’ve still put a lot of time, training, effort, and hope into this race. I’m excited and I’m ready for the challenge, and whatever that brings along with it.

I think I’ll sit out any more trail running until afterward, however.