I’ve been good about staying out of my heels and wrapping my leg, but when I got back from my tax accountant (looking better than I thought!) and convincing Milena at Verizon to replace my malfunctioning phone for free (yes!), I figured it would be a good idea to take a shot at the treadmills in our new (totally-amazing-22nd-floor-in-the-heart-of-midtown-and-katie's-first-high-rise-ever!) apartment building.
I haven’t been in a gym in, gosh, probably over a year. I was never, ever a fan of gyms. Something about everyone looking around at each other, or having to actually look like I know what I’m going to do next, or wondering if I can stretch as limberly as the 40-year old woman next to me, or confused as to whether or not I should look at myself in the mirror when I’m ‘pumping’ my 15 lb irons or just down at the weights in front of me… so many weird idiosyncrasies that I found myself facing and entirely too stressful overall. But back in Urbania you had to belong to a gym, unless you wanted to hit the hilly, pavement surrounded by inner city congestion and pollen-producing trees in the summer or exercise through the cold, snowy winters. What’s funny is that when I mounted the treadmill tonight and could see myself in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised. It was kind of cool to see myself up there, looking fit and athletic (thank you, Nike gear...). *happy sigh*. (Oh, and the gym was completely deserted. Anxieties alleviated.)
It was my first attempt at real exercise in one week. I only planned to walk out my crinks, but the leg felt fine and I hustled up to 5.8mph and steadily and carefully jogged one mile! I ran a mile tonight!! A full mile at 5.8mph on the treadmill! This is progress! I don’t know if anyone else experiences this, but if I listen to music as I run, I can’t ‘listen’ to my body. I have a tough time deciphering between pain that I should run through and pain that is screaming, “STOP STOP STOP”. I get so pumped up with my music that I pretty much think I’m Hercules. That’s likely what got me into trouble with this leg in the first place. I shouldn’t have done all 8 miles one week ago. I might’ve heard: ‘Katie. This is your leg speaking. Slow down.’ But Benny Benassi was screaming… KEEP GOING! YEAH, YOU’RE A ROCK STAR! GET IT, GIRLLLL! *thump thump thump thump.’ Well, tonight I ran with only one ear bud in to be… how shall I say this? …one with my leg? Weird, I know. But it worked! I stopped at a mile and I feel good.
Unless I experience a miraculous recovery within the next 10 days, I’ve decided not to run the 13.1 on March 6th. It’s not worth it. This injury is much more serious than I imagined it to be one week ago. Plantarflexion is out of the question. As Kat Munoz wisely advised me yesterday over a bottle of wine on the balcony in christening the new apartment, “It’s only your first year of training. You’re bound to get your worst injuries now, while you figure out what you can and can’t handle. I had a friend who recently ran on an injury and she came out of the race on a stretcher and ended up in the operating room.” Yikes. Point taken.
And for now, there’s the rest of my White Zin, a hot shower, and some more boxes to unpack!