I’ve Come To The End Of The Road…

So, I was pretty gloomy last week.  How was this week?

I ran a very easy 4 miles on Monday and the knee was ok.  I swam on Tuesday, but kicking wasn’t particularly comfortable, I guess because (certainly with my admittedly rubbish technique) you do actually use your knees a fair bit to swim.  Wednesday I took as a rest day to let the knee settle.  Thursday I was knackered and worn out after a stressful day.  Friday it was incredibly windy and I knew I’d end up tensing against the wind, which couldn’t help.  So I didn’t run again until Saturday.  And it was a lovely 5 mile run.  It was bright and sunny and my knee felt fine.  Encouraged, I ran 10 miles today, with 3 individual miles at marathon pace (that’s sub 3, not pb marathon pace of sub 2.50 pace!).  And it was ok until about 7.5/8 miles.  And then the knee tightened, and tightened, and tightened.  And it’s still sore now.  It was sore walking about in chambers when I went in to work.  So that’s my answer.  I haven’t been able to run more than 7 miles without pain in the last fortnight.  A mini-break to Valencia it is, and I can support the friends I have running, and watch Steph Twell’s marathon debut.  In a way, the fact the pain is coming on after a relatively short distance, although bad in terms of how long it might now take my body to completely recover and let me train properly again, is a relief: this isn’t a finely balanced decision where it is worth even considering risking it.  For whatever reason, the knee just hasn’t settled, and if anything is much worse than the immediate aftermath of the bike accident.  I just need to rest, regroup, and yet again restart the process of building my fitness up.

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A Tale Of Two Weeks

So, I last posted a fortnight ago, shaken after being knocked off my bike, but hopeful no serious damage had been done.

Last week was generally ok: I rested on Monday to let things settle, then ran a really comfortable 12 miles on the Tuesday ahead of an emergency sports massage appointment.  That seemed to both help and unsettle a bit, as my 10 miles on Wednesday was only ok until mile 8.  Then the knee (left) was a bit sore again.  As a consequence I decided it wasn’t worth heading over to Weston to race on Thursday and just did a light-ish speedwork session close to home instead.  My legs felt tight and I felt a bit wonky, but my pace-to-effort ratio was great, which was encouraging.  I rested on Friday and then on the Saturday ran a really comfy 15 miles.  After a wonderful concert that night I had a lie-in and then, encouraged by Saturday’s run, headed off for 18 miles, and dared to be brave: I ran my normal 18 mile route rather than loops close to home.  And at 14 miles my knee started to hurt…  There was no easy way home, so I stopped to stretch out my quad, adductor and hamstring every mile.  It brought up 65 miles for the week, and my knee seemed to settle much more quickly than it did the previous weekend, so I hoped I’d got away with it.

I rested on Monday (partly precautionary, partly because I’d cycled for the first time since the accident and didn’t want to overdo things, and partly because I had to work a bit late) and then ran 5 very gentle miles into work on Tuesday.  The knee wasn’t amazing, but not terrible, and when I had a sports massage my sports masseur said the knee was certainly no worse than when she’d seen me the previous week.  Feeling slightly encouraged, I dared to think of running 6 days this week, albeit I only had time for 3.5 very easy miles home on Wednesday.  The knee felt fine.  I ran 8 very easy miles home on Thursday and from about 6 miles the knee was less happy.  I ran 8 miles after work on Friday (having cycled in) and the knee was extremely sore from 5 miles in.  I was stopping to stretch things out every mile.  I then cycled to meet T for dinner, and it took plenty of nice food to cheer me up.  The knee had been extremely painful whilst cycling and I knew that something just wasn’t right.  As a consequence, I’ve taken this weekend off training altogether.  The not-running is to give the knee a rest.  The not-cross-training is because I can’t face it: I’d be cross training because yet again I can’t run.  I can’t quite get my head around how unlucky this year has been: a slip on some mud leading to an horrifically bad ankle sprain; re-spraining that ankle simply turning a corner in the woods; and then getting knocked off my bike because a driver couldn’t wait until she actually had a gap in the traffic which meant turning right was safe for her to do.  I was starting to get into good shape.  My times were finally coming down again.  There was a tiny part of me which was daring to dream of keeping my sub-3 streak alive.  And now, realistically, unless things go really well in the next fortnight, I’m looking at a weekend break in Valencia, but no marathon.  I feel more at peace with that now than I did on Saturday, but it’s a bitter pill to swallow.