Short Trails & The Injured Runner

It used to be that anything less than 3 miles wasn’t worth getting out of bed for. 

What’d be the point of going out for such a short distance?  But currently 3 miles is about 1½ miles too far to walk, and I can forget about running it altogether. No can do. The physio and the podiatrist have both drummed it into me that over-doing it will do me no favours, so for now, just don’t run at all. I can cycle and swim as much as I like, which is a mercy, but neither are as satisfying as a fast 4 mile run before breakfast, or a full day out walking in the hills. Of course, I’ve pushed my luck, and either walked too far or tried out a bit of a run despite the advice of the professionals. But I’ve come to regret it, as my recovery has taken a knock-back each time.

Now that a whole day on the mountains is out of the question, what can I do? Where can I go that’ll still give me those much-needed shots of wilderness, exploration, and physical challenge?

I haven’t found a satisfying answer to those questions. But I do find myself looking at local ‘short walks’ guides with new-found interest. I used to find them disappointing, their definition of short being considerably shorter than anything I'd consider worth the bother of turning up for. And they don’t meet my demands of wilderness, exploration and physical challenge. But they do meet the closely related criteria of the outdoors, nature, discovery and some level of physical activity. I now appreciate these 20 minute out-and-back, signposted strolls from the car park, that take me over smooth landscaped trails and don’t require even the slightest scramble.

And I’ve gained a fresh insight into the frustrations of being restricted by my body from accessing and enjoying some of the greatest delights in this world, the places that enrich my life and replenish my soul. 

As someone who's spent the last 5 years or so working in disability services, there's nothing like an injection of first-hand personal experience to refresh my therapeutic practice.  I'm finding it all as frustrating as ever in terms of my personal fitness.  But in terms of my understanding of the importance of the natural world to my health and wellbeing, and the barriers that stop some people enjoying those same opportunities that I value so highly, I guess I'm learning something useful.

Image by cogdogblog

Plan B

The ankle has gone again. Goddamit, I was just building up to half-decent mileage again, getting excited about the spring and summer ahead, trail-running in the hills day after day... When boom! Something in my ankle goes and tears and screams and stops me in my tracks. This was originally meant to be a blog about running! Who'd have known it?

Anyway, am meeting up with a physiotherapist friend tomorrow, and will prevail on her for a consult at a reasonable price. In the meantime, the bike has come out of hibernation. Took off this morning, for a test-run 5 miler through mist and smirr. Hey, this is pretty good. No longer in the city, I can make the most of empty roads that don't lead anywhere in particular. I belt down hills at a fair old lick. Around me, there's no sound but the whirr of my wheels, and the cry of birds in the fields and moors - curlews, lapwings, snipe, geese...

The world is peaceful, alive, and magnificent.

Image by ex_magician

Do We Sabotage Our Own Dreams?

I came back from my travels last year, excited. I'd had a glorious year of running and travel - a combination that rocked my world.  I couldn't wait to get stuck in to doing more of the same in my home country. Have you seen what Scotland looks like?! We may not get the weather, but oh my god, we have got the terrain for trail-running.  My head was full of dreams for all the great things I'd do, building on the things I learned while I was away.

But the running has not really taken off since my return. Its sort of limped and faltered. I've chugged out a few short runs per week, doing circuits of the park that barely meet the minimum to keep my body ticking over. Sure it's been good, its very rare for such a thing as a 'bad run' to occur. But, now that I think about it, its been a lot of years, like 10 perhaps, since I've run so little or so poorly.  My dreams, that I'd made part of my everyday life while I was away, seemed inapplicable and unobtainable back in my home country and my ordinary life.

What's that all about? Yes, I've had an injury to contend with, but that didn't happen till January. What was going on between August and December?

There was a poor adjustment to being back in 'normal life.' Let's face it, full-time work, urban living, long commutes snarled up in rush-hour traffic? They cannot compete with a life on the road, where your time is your own, the national parks have paths that lead toward heaven, the sun always shines, and the priority for each day is: where shall I run and how far do I feel like going? I got fed up and despondent about that.

I've had to hand back a certain amount of autonomy to my employer and other authorities. I've had to compromise on values that while I was away, I could live my life by. Things around travel and transport, recycling and waste, time and efficiency, functionality versus 'keeping up appearances'. This has made me feel conflicted inside.

I've also had a shift in focus, getting really into political, economic, environmental and ideological debates. I've gotten very focused on the systems that limit and crush people and their potential. I've been angered by our wage-slave society, our over-work cultures, our misplaced priorities. And I've tried to make something of the alternatives, to explore other ways of living (and making a living) so that both my own and others' futures don't need to be so restricted. I've had my ups and downs with that side of things.

I've often felt frustrated, disappointed in myself, and sabotaged since my return to the UK. I've also been getting flabby and weak. But, today I wonder...

Has it been 'society' that has sabotaged my dreams? Or has it been me?

One thing I need to remember; there's always a choice.

Running Update: Body Versus Brain

There've been no running posts lately, because there's been no running.  It seems I was a wee bit premature, thinking my achilles was basically fine. Instead I've found that yes I am ok pottering about a sedentary life of work, driving and mooching about the house... But set me loose on a run, and within five minutes, sharp pain spears through the appropriate bit of my ankle and I have to hobble home again. And in fact, the compromise of a brisk walk in the usual running slot didn't seem to be doing my injury any favours either. So, rest it is, and rest it will be for as long as it takes. Even if I have to miss the Lochaber Marathon in April, I have no intention of not being fighting fit for Loch Ness in October. So I'm just taking each day as it comes.

The mind may have accepted the situation, but the body sure as hell hasn't. It's funny how quickly the discomfort sets in. Within a day or so of no running, the lack of exercise has the muscles in my back feeling irritable and my spine feeling all clogged up. I try to kid my body, I try to con it, fool it with a vigorous 5 minutes of sit-ups and press-ups, the stretch routine, shower. 'Whaddya mean! Course we've been out running today! Can't you tell by the slightly raised heart rate and subsequent wash?!' Sometimes, very occasionally, it works... But usually it doesn't. The body knows fine.

What will be worse is when my body adapts, and no longer wants to go out running 5 days a week. Then I'm in trouble, because while the discomfort will have eased off, so too will every shred of fitness. I can't bear to even think about that.

Running Update: The Value of Frozen Peas

Frozen peas. What I've learned this week is that every runner should have a packet of frozen peas stashed close to hand. The achilles is aching, in a dull anxiety-inducing sort of way. To run or to rest? To ignore and ice it, or molly-coddle and indulge it? Wild weather at the weekend had me glad, sort of, to ease off and stay home instead of train as planned. But that's another long run missed, making the marathon goal that bit harder to attain. God damn it, injury is crap.

Picture by Andrew Michaels

Running Update: Achilles Crack Alert

Yesterday, the hard run went swimmingly. Back in the door; I stretched, showered, painstakingly updated the running diary. Ah... the satisfaction of rigorous training. And now for a cup of tea. In the kitchen, I put the kettle on, stretch up on tip-toes to the top shelf to pull down my favourite mug, and... felt a 'crack' in my left achilles tendon. No...! No no no no no no no... Panic gripped me, I cannot be injured: the training schedule leaves no room for recovery before the April marathon. And even without the marathon, I'll both go crazy and balloon in size without my running. Today, I think it's okay. It was a warning shot, not an injury. I've gone away, done my homework, and will be far more careful from now on. But still, fear ghosts round my ankles.

Image by Hello Turkey Toe