This Time Next Week

That smile is the satisfaction from a recent speed workout at with Coach Ives at The Body Project.

Yeah, injuries suck. You know it and I know it. But I'm hoping the tidbit I share today at least helps keep everything in perspective.

Let me set the stage.

I had the narrative already written in my mind for this post.  It would describe how the Midnight Madness 5K eight days before the Bix 7 had given me that one last jolt of speed workout that propelled me to a solid outcome at Iowa's largest race.  Based on my training and past performances, I felt reasonably confident that I’d be pleased with the results of both races.

That was before my knee erupted on July 7.

Just a quarter mile left in a cooldown after four 1-kilometer intervals in 80 plus temps.  Coach Ives and I were talking as I eased down a slight hill when my left knee suddenly exploded with pain.

I’d been nursing sore quads that had the muscles on top of that knee tighter than I liked.  But they’d recovered enough for speedwork that previous week and had felt better that morning than they had in several weeks.  Nor had I even noticed them during the kilometer intervals.

As Coach Ives described it, the combination of heat and fatigue had caused the quads to seize up, essentially pulling on those bands.  Bottom line, they hurt badly enough that I tried not to limp when walking.

I also knew that unless I had a near miraculous recovery, I could now scratch both those races off my calendar.

A fun race I had to miss that actually had decent temps this year.

Frustration

Guess what? No near miraculous recovery. The best I could do a week later was insert a few quarter-mile jogs into a 3-mile walk.  Physical therapy confirmed that I'd need two weeks off before I could resume any running.

No Midnight Madness 5K or Bix 7.  Instead, I would have my longest period of days without running in nearly a decade.  

I have to confess that whenever I am injured and unable to run as I’d like, I’m not quite myself.  Truthfully, I’m a bit of a grouch.  Trust me, I do everything I can to masque it. I also remind myself a hundred times a day that this happens to every runner.  Nonetheless, despite my best efforts, despite my every good intention, no matter what I do throughout the day, I still cannot get past that I am not myself.  Deep down, without having that run in the morning or workout with Coach Ives or one of my friends or enjoying a day off following a race or tough workout, that personal satisfaction and, let’s be completely honest, that pride just isn’t there.  

Running is a fundamental aspect of who I am.  That's why, it's always a rough patch when I can't do it.

This Time Next Week.

I know that I am far from the only runner who feels as I do during times like these.  I’d go as far as to say that many of you reading this can appreciate at least some aspect of what I’ve written. 

With that, let me also share how I deal with occasions like this.  Specifically, when I am faced with a situation that I haven’t faced before and where there’s uncertainty associated with the path to recovery.  Despair is both pointless and counterproductive- although it often nibbles along the edges of my thoughts, wanting more attention.

To deny it, I repeatedly tell myself to think about where I will be with my running this time next week.  

Another race I missed, but this one was delayed because of severe weather.

Let’s look back to the day of that injury, when my knee throbbed that afternoon at the office, I’d tell myself to imagine where I’d be that time next week.  Perhaps I’d have a speedy recovery and back to running.  I would certainly have a diagnosis to confirm that nothing had been torn.  Odds were that I’d have some level of recovery.  Whether that would include running or just walking, I couldn’t say.  But there would be progress from where I was at that time.  

My mind would repeat that mantra several times each day of the recovery, knowing that as frustrating as it was to barely put in a mile walking, that there would be improvement "this time next week."

Nothing any longer. Just seven days.

None of this is intended to supplant more direct steps to dealing with injuries, such as seeking the proper medical attention, rest and so on. Those address the physical aspects. What I hope this helps with is the mental aspect of recovery.

As someone who is goal oriented, it makes it easier for to know that as difficult and frustrated as I may feel at a particular moment, there will be better days ahead.  (And if anyone is wondering about my post from July 4, yes, this approach is also exactly what Pre would do.)

And this works in reverse as well. If I feel as though my recovery is not progressing as quickly as I'd like, I remind myself of where I'd been one week earlier. A reminder of where I was helps that much more with focusing on where I'm going.

Several “This Time Next Weeks” Later

It hasn’t been easy, but my recovery is proceeding in a positive direction.  My goal is to compete in the Capital Pursuit’s 10-Mile race next month.  More importantly, I want my quads ready to rock along with all the other muscles, tendons and bands.  

Although injuries are part of running, none of us like them.  It’s my hope that what I’ve shared with you today offers some benefit.  I’d also like to hear any thoughts and suggestions you may have.  You can include them below or in the comments on social media.

Next Post!

You're cordially invited to my next post on August 15. This will be my 100th "Running With Rick" post. It's an accomplishment I wouldn't have reached with everyone reading this blog. My thanks to all of you!