I am injured. Again.
Last week's relaxed, enjoyable runs culminated in a long run of 11 miles on Sunday. The first 10 miles were great. My legs were relaxed, I felt that my form was good, and I dared to think, 'It's all going to be okay from here on in.' I should know better than to tempt the Running Gods. A few steps into mile 10, my left calf muscle popped.
There was no sound to it and no pain, but there was a definition sensation of something giving. Just like last time. There was minimal pain (more a feeling of stiffness) as I made my way home. I gently stretched, put on my compression socks, iced my calf, and hoped that it all would be better by Monday. It wasn't.
It wasn't better by Tuesday either. The pain seemed to be not just in my calf but also in my ankle and was sharp enough that I was limping. Fortunately, I had an appointment with Adam after work. His assessment, after causing me great pain as he worked on my achilles tendon, ankle, and soleus muscle, was that I hadn't done any serious damage to myself and that the AHM might still be doable. He said to not run today and probably not tomorrow, but to go for a gentle run on Friday to see how it feels. I still have time to fit in a 12 mile run before the race but, even if I decided that one more long run wasn't a good idea, I know that I'd be able to do the 13.1 distance anyway. Assuming, of course, that I don't need to be stretchered off the mountain.
Feeling sorry for myself? Yes, indeed I am.