I will be the first to admit that my training this summer hasn't left me feeling grateful or fulfilled. In the past, I've enjoyed my summer bricks as I've prepared for distance triathlon. I think part of it was that this summer I chose not to do the half Ironman distance again, and was attempting to train for a few shorter triathlons while also train for a fast late summer marathon.
I think the other part of it was that my body just didn't feel super. I kept waiting for runs to feel good, but something was always up. Either my foot would fall asleep (like 90% of the time!), or my legs would feel heavy, or mentally I just wasn't into the run and was wishing it was over before it started. This isn't like me at all. I wasn't looking forward to my workouts the way that I knew I should be doing in the early weeks of a training cycle. After my Olympic triathlon in early July, I decided to be done with tri training for the summer, foregoing USAT Nationals so that I could focus on the marathon. I realized after a couple of weeks, though, that this new plan wasn't changing my mental outlook, and even considered telling my coach that I needed a break while I was on vacation in early August. Such irony, as I wasn't able to run a single step while we were at the beach.
I competed in the half Ironman relay at Delaware on July 29 as the swimmer in a super-fast all-female relay that I'd put together earlier this year. My swim was... okay. Not as fast as I'd hoped, but the distance that I swam was again a full 300 yards longer than the course was supposed to be. I had to deal with a lot more "traffic" (other swimmers) that I expected to as well. But I felt fine. My run up to transition, where I handed off the timing chip to my friend Robin, was fine. Nothing hurt. I walked a lot that day, cheering on the runners at the race. No issues whatsoever. I woke up the next day and met Amy for a semi-late morning run (I think we met at around 7:30 AM). The plan was 6 easy miles. A few minutes after we turned around at mile 3, I noticed that my right hip flexor felt tight... or sore... or something. I noticed it, and dismissed it. Then I noticed it again... and again. When you are an oft-injured runner, it's hard to ignore any niggles of pain that you get. I did my best to push it out of my mind. After we stopped, I stretched a bit and drove home. When I got out of my car, lifting my leg... I knew. I just knew. The feeling was the exact same as the one that I'd had 2.5 years ago, when I had a femoral neck (hip) stress fracture in my left leg. The opposite leg. A mirror image of the injury that took me out of the marathon I'd been training all winter for... and it was happening again.
I told my best friend Tamara that day, immediately, what it was. Like I said, I knew. July 30, at 4:21 PM. My message to her: "T, my hip flexor. It was bothering me a bit on my run today. Nothing horrible. But ever since I finished... I'm freaking out. It is like what happened when I fractured my hip. Hurts to move my foot from gas to break." And the next day, after I ran just 2 miles of my 17 mile long run and had to quit, I repeated myself, and called it for what it was at that time. I had zero doubt that my femoral neck was injured again. I took off from all activity during my six days of vacation, and attempted to run the day after we came back. Yet again, the pain during the run made me stop, and the pain afterward was filled with deja vu. Fortunately I have the best sports med doctor ever. She was able to convince my insurance company to do an MRI very quickly, and this time around, we caught the injury before it became a full-blown fracture again. My official diagnosis is a femoral neck stress response (a.k.a. stress reaction), which is basically the precursor to a fracture--meaning, if I continued to run on it, my hip would likely fracture again. Also, I have a tear in my labrum. The positive: crutches aren't necessary, and the time off isn't as long. The negative: I most definitely will not be running in Erie with Tamara and chasing that elusive BQ time in September.
I almost feel like my body was trying to tell me something this summer, but I didn't know what it was saying until it was too late. The way I was mentally "checked out" of many of my runs. The way that my speed work felt forced, especially during July. The way that I had to count down the miles during my long runs like I never have before. My brain couldn't fathom trying to run an 8:24 pace for 26.2 miles... and my body was in agreement with my brain the entire time. I'm just glad that I didn't run myself into the ground this time around trying to prove it was just a hip flexor strain... but I do wish I had been more grateful for the runs that I was able to do. "Don't it always seem to go like you don't know what you've got til it's gone..." Yep, that's for damn sure.
I accepted this injury much more quickly than I did my last one. That being said, I have not escaped the depression that always comes along with my injuries. Little things have been causing me to cry... driving by the UDF where my friends and I frequently meet for our runs... stretching out my ankles and feet at night before I fall asleep... seeing my Nathan handheld water bottle by the sink, not being used... realizing that there is absolutely no reason at all for me to set my alarm for 5 AM, because I am not meeting anyone to run. A few friends have reached out to see how I am doing. Beth, who is probably the nicest person ever to exist (just ask anyone in the Westerville MRTT group), asked if there was anything she could do. I was very honest with her with my response: "Remember me." For some reason, I get so very afraid that by not running for an extended period of time, people will forget about me, about the friendship that we have. I feel so very alone when I am not doing my training runs with my friends. I know it's incredibly silly, but it is a very strong emotion, this loneliness, and it definitely feeds into my depression.
Moving on... the question remains as to what is next for me. Before my MRI, I told my friend Jenna that if this was what I thought it was, then I was finished with marathons. Clearly, my body has something against running long. I am still feeling that way... that running marathons is going to have to be in my past. It is so difficult for me to even type those words. I would've been fine with qualifying for Boston and getting to run it with Tamara, and then being finished. It's like when I was a competitive swimmer in high school. Each year, I would try to qualify for Junior Nationals, and each year, I would barely miss the qualifying time. I never did make it. It's always been something that I regretted, not accomplishing that goal. This thing with getting my BQ time is the same. I know I will always say, "Yes, I was close to qualifying. I was only a couple of minutes away when I was in my 30's... but I had to stop trying." I am the worst person at throwing in the towel, but I don't see any other way out right now. I am working with my doctor to see if there is a reason for the repeated bone injuries, but even if there is... it's not like there is something I can do to make it stop happening. For whatever reason, my body isn't capable of handling the stress of distance running.
Basically, right now I am treading water. I have no idea which road to take. My heart is pulled towards distance running. It is what makes me happiest, what I love the most. My brain knows it's not good for me to continue to do this, and tells me that I should listen to those who tell me to focus on sprint-distance triathlon. I tell them, "If only I loved triathlon the way I love distance running." Maybe, someday, I can convince my heart that I do.
