As many of you know, I injured my Achilles tendon running the Queenstown Marathon in New Zealand last November. To read about that adventure, check out my blog Taking the Crown at Queenstown. I had hoped my Achilles would heal over time. When it didn’t, I saw my orthopedist for diagnosis and treatment.
“Are you torturing yourself running marathons again?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said. “I have at least three more to run,” referring to my goal of running a marathon on all seven continents.
After a steroid shot and weeks of physical therapy, I was on my way! Three weeks ago, I had recovered well enough to ease back into running and even completed six miles last weekend with no issue. My physical therapist told me I was good to run the Reykjavík Marathon in Iceland in August. If I increased my mileage by one mile every week, I could do it! The key was to remain injury-free.
Last week, I purchased my airline ticket and the tour package for Iceland. Yes! I would soon complete my fifth continent!
Last Saturday, I woke up ecstatic to run. Seven miles in 55 degrees with no wind – perfect! Better yet, my friend Cathy joined me.
I coasted through the first two miles, reveling in the lushness of the Bluff Creek forest, the crisp air filling my nostrils.
At around Mile 2, however, I felt a familiar pain. “Oh, no. You had better not start acting up on me,” I told my Achilles.
I made a deal with myself. If the pain didn’t worsen, I would continue. Otherwise, I would stop. Sure enough, at Mile 3, a sharp twinge shot through my Achilles, and I knew I had to quit.
I hobbled back to the parking lot to meet my friend, cursing at the turn of events. I had worked so hard to rehab my injury! I did my physical therapy exercises every morning. I eased back into running. I didn’t overdo it.
My Achilles had other ideas.
When I returned home, I applied ice to my ankle, elevated my leg, and took ibuprofen. It will feel better tomorrow, I hoped.
Unfortunately, I awoke the next day, and it still hurt to walk. I must have done more damage than I thought.
Damn it! What if I couldn’t continue my training? What if I can’t run the marathon in August? Will I ever overcome this injury and run again?
I spent much of the day lamenting the possibilities.
Finally, I remembered a passage in my memoir I Can See for My Miles when I grappled with a different running injury.
Don’t give up just because of an injury. Find a way.
Whenever our plans get disrupted, we can ask ourselves these questions:
At this point, I don’t know what will happen or what I will decide. However, I know I will try all the tools at my disposal. As Stoic Marcus Aurelius proclaimed, “The obstacle is the way.”
What do you do when things don’t go according to plan? Please comment below!
