I am experiencing an interesting affliction that began over the last day and a half. I feel this drive deep down inside of me to spring into action. To chase some challenging goal. To fulfill some deep-rooted ambition. Yet, I am feeling a sense of defeat and despair.
I set a plan into motion for a February marathon as I crushed a 17-mile run on Sunday. Now, I think I injured myself. My Achilles tendon in my right foot is bothering me.
I felt a very subtle, dull pain on Saturday as I coasted through a five miler in Las Vegas. I thought nothing of it.
We returned home late on Saturday night. I went out for my seventeen’er with great vengeance on Sunday. I was motivated by the news that Aaron and Steve just finished a BQ in Philly (before I even woke up!). I finished miles 16 and 17 at paces of 7:07 at 6:38.
I felt the same Achilles act up mid-way through the run, but it did not seem bothersome enough to stop. Sunday afternoon brought mild soreness. Monday brought a consistent sensation of heat on the area and noticeable swelling.
I reflected on the root cause. Last week, I rocked through the hills of Ivins, Utah (shown below). I ran a 6:21 downhill mile at the back end of a 10-miler on Wednesday. I did another six through the same hills on the next day, albeit much easier. I am wondering if the sudden intensity of incline was too much, too soon.
I am not foolish enough to think that this is some great tragedy. However, I am intrigued by the level of psychological impact it has had on me over the past 48 hours. It’s somewhat depressing. Will I able to resume to running soon enough? I am already bowing out of the Turkey Trot this week. I am fearful that I will aggravate it trying to run a 19-minute 5k.
When I try to turn my attention away from running, I get bored. Career seems very slow right now. No journeys to China. Wait, I am heading to London on Sunday for two days. Not looking forward to that. More work than it’s worth it seems.
Hold on a second. I have a pregnant wife. We just had more ultrasound pics taken yesterday. That’s quite thrilling, actually.
I am keenly conscious that this collection of thoughts sounds like a bit of a moan. Actually, it sounds like an outright, unjustifiable bitch. Nonetheless, I am feeling the letdown of what seems to be a perennial November slowdown.
I do not want to go the doctor with this little Achilles boo-boo. It’s very clear that’s what it is. So what can I do?
"Rest, mate. Enjoy your brilliant life. Give thanks to God and give yourself to others around you. 'Tis the season to show gratitude and help those in need." I am speculating that’s what my spiritual advisor would tell me -- if he was British, and if I actually had one.