You knew. I knew. I felt it deep in my heart the second I picked up the phone to call the physical therapist and my orthopedist three weeks ago. But, I lived in optimism (denial?) for a few weeks. Today, the final stage of this process has begun.
I am bagging the Flora London Marathon. Bottom line: I’m injured for real, folks, and this hammie ain’t gonna be strong enough on April 26th to get me through 26.2 miles without further harm to body and soul.
You know. There are nine million dusty bits caught up in the emotional tornado, which scrape at my guts, now that I’ve made this decision. I’m not going to drag us through them all; many of them are in these comments here (you guys are super-insightful). As I told my physical therapist and orthopedist today, “My running is more important than this race.” Forget the fact that I’ve been anticipating this race for a full year.
As Mike (PT guy) left me after half an hour of painful therapy with wet heat on my butt, he rested his hand on my upper back and said, “You are a runner; you made the best decision.”
My orthopedist told me, after a second x-ray and a script for an MRI (finally! Friday at 7 AM), “Absolutely. Best not to risk further injury.”
Colleague, hasher and GMR relay runner JMK said, “I voted for you to not go.”
My boss, my hardass boss, got soft around the eyes when I told her I’d be in the office next week since I wasn’t going to London for my race. I could tell she sincerely felt bad when she said, TK, “You were out running in the freezing rain and dark while I was home watching American Idol and drinking wine!”
Husband, sweet Husband, let me sniffle and cry and go on about how not only was I disappointed in more ways than I could express, but I was also afraid of being a disappointment. What kind of athlete am I, a wuss-ass injury-prone weakling? And I told all these people who donated money I’d run a marathon for Dan! He smacked that insanity down right quick.
Tonight is my allotted night to let the disappointment flow. I called my folks, my brother. I called Dan and his wife to tell them about the anticlimactic development in my fundraising for the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. This weekend I’ll start researching and laying the groundwork for Plan B. Planning always energizes me, so that will be a nice distraction, actually.
I’m allowed to use the elliptical and the bike at the gym, as long as I’m pain-free during & after. I sadly tucked Little G away again tonight, after waking him up yesterday for my 30-minute test drive. And so it goes! I am just one of many runners–of any distance–who have had to put their racing on hold as they recovered from an injury. I have begun to think that, while I would never wish this situation on any athlete, it is perhaps a runner’s rite of passage to get injured, recover, establish adaptive training programs to prevent further injury, and come back strong… stronger, even. Perhaps injuries are as much apart of being a runner as PRs are.
My recovery mantra: My running is more important than any one race.
Such drama. I’m ready for a very pedestrian Plan B, with no drama, just lots of workhorse PT, careful recovery, and training. Starting on Tuesday. Tonight, I’m drinking another bottle of red, tomorrow is Cousins’ Margaritas at Rosa Mexicano, and Friday night is my traditional Taper Feast with my best friend, her boyfriend and Husband (feast is still on even though the taper is obsolete). I raise my wine glass to you, dear readers, swift runners.
Well, you tried… I’m impressed that you gave it every last bit of effort, and didn’t give up till you were sure it was not possible.
I’m sure you’ll come back better and stronger for the next time…
Sorry to hear it and I’m glad at least the question is put to rest, even if the answer stings.
I thought about you on my tempo run tonight. Take heart, while your body may not be out there, your spirit will be running a thousand steps in the thoughts of your friends.
I love that idea, that I’ll be invisible company with my running friends as they train.
That sucks. I think you made the right (smart) decision, though. You and Little G will be out tearing up the streets again before you know it.
Many if not most of us have been there.
I was nearly in tears at Icahn — turns out there is crying in running — after my knee went out in a race and Devon, my coach at the time, said we’d figure out what the problem was and we did and I’ve since had the longest stretch without major incident ever.
The worst will be race day and after that passes, you’ll be better than new and at whatever that stage is.
(I like that name, Devon.)
I agree–race day is gonna be very tough, but after that it will be okay. Husband is thoughtfully taking me to our house in Pennsylvania that weekend so I will fill my time making ice cream, baking cookies, reading books, and tramping through the woods with Matilda.
Glad you made the right choice, TK. Although it stings now (and probably will until after the 26th), you’ll be so much stronger and faster and better once you are able to be back. Enjoy the time off the best you can. Best of luck in your recovery!
Well you’ve heard my sob stories and I admire your courage in making the hard choice. Much as I wouldn’t recommend busting yourself up like I did, in some ways it made giving Boston up for this year easier (though I’m still smarting from having to mail my packet pick-up card back in). But let me share a story from 2003, the only other time I had to withdraw my entry from a race – 3 days before I was supposed to run Steamtown. I had to give it up when I couldn’t even get through a slow 4 miler without walking because of what sounds to be the same thing you’re suffering with the hamstring and associated tendons. I think I told you all that stuff before, but what I don’t think I mentioned was what came after. A month of no running, lots of hours on my bike on a trakstand, ortho visits, physical therapy, a long regimen of stretching 4 times/day. And when I was allowed to start running again, it was like I had a new body. All the aches and pains that had become so familiar as to be unnoticed were gone. 3 months later came my first BQ and marathon PR that I’ve never beaten since. Let things heal and look forward to what you’ll do with your new body when it’s time to take to the road again!
B
Chin up, TK. You made the right call. On to the planning of the next one.
Sorry to hear about your injury, but you’re smart to give it some rest. You’ll be back in no time.
OH TK, so sad indeed.
I must say, I was one that voted for you to go and try at least! Although, I also knew deep down that wasn’t the right advice! The right decisions are always the toughest.
Last year, my stress fracture caused me to miss three races to which I had so looked forward to running. After the realization set in that I would be the group cheerleader, it was hard and upsetting. However, I was an awesome cheerleader, armed with cowbell and double-sided signs. And you know what, the same rationale got me through the sadness. I knew I had NYC this year and *this* season and *this* training was more important than any race I had wanted last year. I would have rather sat 6 more months if it meant coming back strong and able.
Well, I took off 4 full months and started running again in January. I’ve been feeling great and have caught back up to where I left off.
As sad as it is now, you will get back to running and feeling great. You are not an injury-prone weakling, you are simply a passioned runner that tried a bit too hard to keep going. A decision we’ve all made and can respect. Especially knowing why you were trying so hard for this race.
Dan and his wife are proud of you, we are all proud of you for doing what you could, raising awareness and funds for Parkinson’s.
Cheers to another bottle of wine and sleeping in on the weekend!!!!
PS
PS, thank you. I have been re-reading everyone’s comments all week; long, they are an excellent reminder of what I have yet to experience first-hand; which is, runners come back stronger after proper injury recovery.
I can’t wait to cheer YOU on this year when you run the New York City Marathon on 11-1. I still remember to this day seeing you on Fifth Avenue shouting out my name last year.
You will come back even stronger for the next one.
THANK YOU GUYS!! You’re the best virtual running buddies EVER.