Monday, March 21, 2011

Decisions

Each day is filled with its own decisions. Some are great. Some lead to even more decisions, more opportunities, and more experiences. Some are trivial. Some are mundane. Some are easy. Some are difficult.

Yesterday, I had to make a difficult, difficult decision. And, over the past week, I had been playing through this decision in my head. What would it mean if I followed this path (or rather, didn't follow this path)? What would I be losing from this decision, and what would I be gaining? How would this decision, either way, effect me now and down the road?

The pain in my right foot, the one that flared-up just 10 days ago, stayed with me in my final week of tapering. This was the final week of 18. Eighteen weeks of training and dedication. More than four (4) months of preparation and anticipation. All leading to this, the final week of my taper - a week during which one small bone in my right foot would rise up and say, "howdy, partner."

I'd rested this thing, stretched it, taken water and ibuprofen. And still, the pain would not subside when I ran. A sore muscle would have healed by now, a pulled ligament would be hurting constantly. This only hurt when I ran, and it felt like I was stepping on a rock in my shoe. My runs lately have started out with a moderate pain, mild pain in the middle, and severe pain in the end. What we had here, my friends, was a stress fracture.

Yesterday, I went for a 2-mile diagnostic run around the park. And just one mile into it, I could tell, that this marathon was not happening. The foot didn't hurt much, but just enough to let me know that it would be stopping me dead in my tracks around mile 8 of the next day's race. There would be no use in running through this one; I'd just be making things worse. So I made the decision that no runner ever wants to make, and just ONE DAY before the marathon I'd set my sights on 18 weeks ago. I was bowing out.

So here I am today. My foot's still a bit sore to even walk on. I can feel my right third metatarsal just daring me to step on it the wrong way. It is unfortunate that I missed this race, but I'm glad I decided not to run. And, though I won't run again for a while, I'm looking forward to the day when I can. I've got 55 days of rest left, and counting. I figure 8 weeks will give my foot time enough to heal.

In the meantime, I'm going to be swimming and exercising in ways that won't bear a lot of weight on that foot. After eight weeks of healing, I will then have plenty of time to train for...a Fall marathon of my choosing. Then, I'll be back, and better than ever.

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