Diary of an injured runner

[Bierzo Baggie]

Swimming most days but no running for over 2 months now, my longest break from running since I started writing things down in the mid-90s.

[Bierzo Baggie]

The knee started playing up in the New Year. It might have started before but I hadn't noticed it. It never really stopped me from running or doing races but was as Antonio might say a "discomfort" that slowed me down rather than crippled me. I suppose this is what they call "runner's knee" and is a result of many years of continuous use, aging and trying to run downhill in thin shoes as fast as possible.

Plan to rest until early Septrmber and then get back into it gradually. Coming on here will help!

[marathondan]

Sounds like you need a nice, flat, grassy field and some cushioned shoes...

Which I'm sure sounds like hell to you.

Funny how there are so many kinds of running. Non-runners would scoff.

Anyway, the good news is that early September is nearly here!

[El Gordo]

Swimming most days but no running for over 2 months now, my longest break from running since I started writing things down in the mid-90s.

Every cloud, and all that, BB. Maybe this is the perfect opportunity for you to write that great running book that some of us having been urging on you for a decade or so? No pressure! In among a star cast, I still think your race tales stand out.

[marathondan]

Every cloud, and all that, BB. Maybe this is the perfect opportunity for you to write that great running book that some of us having been urging on you for a decade or so? No pressure! In among a star cast, I still think your race tales stand out.

Hear, hear. A natural raconteur.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Every cloud, and all that, BB. Maybe this is the perfect opportunity for you to write that great running book that some of us having been urging on you for a decade or so? No pressure! In among a star cast, I still think your race tales stand out.

Hear, hear. A natural raconteur.

I'd second that! Sounds like the perfect opportunity!

[marathondan]

Hey, that's a recommendation from a published running writer!

[Charliecat5]

Swimming most days but no running for over 2 months now, my longest break from running since I started writing things down in the mid-90s.

Every cloud, and all that, BB. Maybe this is the perfect opportunity for you to write that great running book that some of us having been urging on you for a decade or so? No pressure! In among a star cast, I still think your race tales stand out.

Please write your book... your running stories are excellent.  The only other that comes close is Sweder... but don't tell him that.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Swimming most days but no running for over 2 months now, my longest break from running since I started writing things down in the mid-90s.

Every cloud, and all that, BB. Maybe this is the perfect opportunity for you to write that great running book that some of us having been urging on you for a decade or so? No pressure! In among a star cast, I still think your race tales stand out.

Please write your book... your running stories are excellent.  The only other that comes close is Sweder... but don't tell him that.

*Whistles quietly in the corner.*

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Running-Diaries-Midlife-Crisis-Years/dp/0987347039/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1502930860&sr=8-1&keywords=himmelhoch-mutton

[Sweder]

BB, you must do this. Your tales are akin to Fables of yore.
The characters, the scenery, the food! the drink!

In all seriousness, your stories transcend a humble runner's forum.

PS - ah, the point of writing here!
Sorry to hear of the knee trouble. I've had one op, another seems inevitable, possibly two (one each side).
Your local terrain and choice of course no doubt exact a greater toll on sinew and menisci than others.
Fear not, for you shall return.

I only have to watch Paralympians to remember that excuses to not continue belong in the trash.
Baggies beat Burnley away, I see. Happy days!

[Bierzo Baggie]

Write a book? Don’t hold your breath…

Do people read books any more? I use 2 forums, this one and a quirky, nostalgic West Brom supporters forum. Not many youngsters on either and we all like to go on a bit! I’d have to get to Almeria first anyway… 
 
The knee is OK but it’s still sensitive. It clicks occasionally but these days most of me does. I’ve even got through a couple of games of futsal so it can’t be that bad.

Approaching 3 “runless” months now. The pause has given me time to hunt down several notebooks which I have used over the years to record runs, times and an estimate of distance. This is no spreadsheet and there are no signs of any particularly coherent plan. If anything we are talking about a crazy inverse plan. Run somewhere, record it and then years later look for a pattern. Have never used a GPS so at least initially I was more focused on time than distance and the distances recorded were always approximate in any case.

Found 6 exercise books in all. One is still missing. Inside are pages and pages of hastily scribbled numbers, calculations, times and later, fleeting observations, brief encounters and even the occasional doodle. Going through these notes and seeing how they have evolved is a fascinating, bizarre and slightly disturbing experience. More than a record of over 20 years of running it looks like the expression of some sort of obsessive-compulsive disorder requiring a few serious sessions of psychotherapy and a set of shiny pills.

[marathondan]

The notebooks sound fascinating, probably more intriguing than longhand prose. If you find anything entertaining, profound or downright confusing, do post the odd photo!

[Bierzo Baggie]

Approaching the end of another dry summer. Ride my old mountain bike most days to a nearby swimming pool . Lucky enough to have access to a 50m open-air pool which is very quiet at lunch-times so this is when I go. I’ll Swim lengths for no more than half an hour but unlike running and football it’s something I can do better now than I could 20 years ago. 

I like the bit when I walk across the grass to the pool, maybe there’s nobody else in the water and the sun is shining. For a moment everything is perfect and I’m that bloke from the Giorgio Armani advert. Then I realize I’ve still got my socks on or that my speedos are on inside out!
Swimming is a most excellent aerobic work- out for an injured runner but it’s a bit boring.
 
Delve into “notebook two”.
Irritatingly “notebook one” is missing. I have recorded weekly figures from November 95 to September 96 copied from the original but nothing else.
Notebook two does not make easy reading even for a seasoned running freak. Here is an excerpt from page one.

(September 1996)
Sun 22:   45mins, park. 9km
Mon 23:   53mins, Toral. 10km
Tues 24;  30mins, park. 6km
Wed 25:   35mins, park (3 sprints 40 sec)  7km
Thurs 26;  55mins, Parte Alta (los barrios) 11km
Fri 27:      50mins, Parte Alta-Endesa-park. 10km
Sat 28;     30mins, park. 6km
Sun 29:    95 mins, Lombillo/Molinaseca. 19km

Not many laughs to begin with then and two conclusions:

1. 8 consecutive days of running probably represented an early burst of enthusiasm and one that would not be repeated again until early April 1997. Usually I was running between twice and 4 times a week.
2. I was still unsure how to use a semi-colon properly.  


Please be warned that there are several years of this before things start picking up..

[glaconman]

I don't think EG would tolerate incorrect use of the semicolon these days BB.

[Sweder]

Too much more of this sort of thing and we could all end up in a comma : )

Lovely description of that walk across the grass, BB. I miss those moments. I miss a lot of things. Like you, I'm finding parts of my body revolting. Crumbling knees, swollen ankles, cellulitis, tight achilles tendons ... I'm perpetually injured. Even cycling offers little solace, given the sadistic nature of modern arse-shredding saddles. My coccyx feels like it's been thrashed with a two-by-four on a nightly basis for three weeks. Bah.

It all stems from indiscipline, a singular failure to stop putting harmful things in my mouth. I took a long weekend break at a Cornish Eco Hotel and Spa in an effort to rest up and recharge. They had the finest selection of bespoke gin I've ever encountered. The bastards.

I may give in to it all, live vicariously through these pages, pile on the pounds and bloat off into the sunset.
And yet, there's talk of Almeria, and, if I go, I really have to run the half.
Bugger.

[Bierzo Baggie]

 Crumbling knees, swollen ankles, cellulitis, tight achilles tendons ... I'm perpetually injured.

Know the feeling mate ...

But do you know what? Haven't run for nearly 3 months now and I've never felt bettter. Summer has been hot and dry, I've surpassed 80kg for the first time in my life, the outdoor swimming pool has closed (and I don't fancy the indoor one) and I've just got through my third game of futsal unscathed (think it was the running that gave me all the muscular problems last time). To tell you the truth I'm in no hurry to get back. Maybe like you Sweder I'll need a bit more wind and rain to put things in motion. But for the moment I'm quite enjoying being injured.

Running archives page 2.

December 1996; zero, zero, zero, zero....
until..
Sun 29th: 40 minutes (Monjuic) 8km  

Ahhhh, memories, memories..

[Bierzo Baggie]

December 1996; zero, zero, zero, zero....
until..
Sun 29th: 40 minutes (Monjuic) 8km

“Monjuic” (misspelt) is Montjuic, a hillside rearing up above Barcelona city centre. Overlooking the busy harbour amongst other things you can find old fortifications, the Olympic stadium and Joan Miro’s museum of modern art where every second exhibit was entitled “Woman and Bird”.

At some point I ran up Montjuic and back to where I was staying and it took me 40 minutes. The distance of 8k would have been based on an estimated average speed of 5 minutes per kilometre. I might have been faster or I might have been slower. The running notebook times may be as relative as truth itself.

With Barcelona sadly in the news this summer the miniscule reference to Montjuic suddenly magnifies and although I have no recollection of this run it triggered other long forgotten memories. A couple of days previously, we had ridden the Shanghai Express, a bolt-squeakingly rickety old train that had started its journey in Vigo and 16 hours later arrived in Barcelona Sants railway station. The motive of this trip was to spend the New Year with Mrs BB’s mad uncle who had just been released from prison. Let’s call him uncle Abby.

Uncle Abby had been receiving free board and lodging in “El Modelo,” a crumbling 19th century gaol etched into the annals of modern Spanish history. Within those walls slept political prisoners, prisoners of war, trade unionists, gypsy folk heroes, celebrity delinquents, corrupt politicians, ETA terrorists… At some point Britain’s very own celebrity drugs smuggler Howard “Mr Nice” Marks paid his respects here.

The grim structure cast its shadows just across the block from where we arrived at the railway station. It looks like an extremely severe Catholic cathedral. And just below Montjuic lies the Poble Sec neighbourhood (“barrio” sounds more appropriate) where uncle Abby now lived a mere stroll away, as was Las Ramblas and the Gothic Quarter. Everything was nearby and cosily accessible. Even the prison.

The following days involved a lot of walking. Uncle Abby led the way, speeding around the city as fast as a racewalker, spinning legs fuelled more by anxiety than athleticism. We visited the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s wacky Parque Guell, the botanical gardens… but we never stayed anywhere for very long.

We also visited bars. Lots of them. We visited a quaint Beatles tribute bar called El “Cavern Club de los Corts”. In another, Spanish TV personality Moncho Borrajo improvised an impromptu early- hours jazz concert of real quality. But many of the bars were insalubrious to say the least.

We met a string of bizarre cinematographic characters. They seemed straight out of that peculiar genre of Spanish film called “cine kinki”. These were films from the 70s and 80s often based on real events that are difficult to define. Think Michael Caine’s “Get Carter” version Flamenco.

Wish I could remember more about this incredible procession of loveable lunatics. For now I only recall a ghostly man called Pencil-face and a short stocky fellow nicknamed “El Peque” (the wee man) who had a face full of scars. Uncle Abby himself was short too with a thick Groucho Marx moustache, large slightly off-centred eyes and a mischievous cackle. He had worked on oil rigs in the North Sea, a fishing boat in the North Atlantic and on being released as a porter in the Boqueria market where 21 years later the young brainwashed terrorist took refuge seconds after performing his hideous deed.
Uncle Abby told stories late into the night often in an indecipherable Galician dialect. Such a shame I hardly understood a word he said.

We watched Pulp Fiction and listened to Jethro Tull.

And more than 21 years on I surprise myself recalling details of those days whilst not even remembering a moment of that Montjuic run. Perhaps my running was and is such a reflex action that it doesn’t even register half the time. I was in good shape back then though and I remember that it was pretty shocking to see some of these people who you just knew wouldn’t make it to their 50s.

Early this summer a brief report on the news announced the closure of the historic Modelo prison in Barcelona. It will remain open for guided visits for a short season until being pulled down and replaced with spanking new flats. I’m sure uncle Abby would have liked to have shown us around and tell us a few more stories.
 

[Bierzo Baggie]

Starting to think about going for a run again. Just a small one. The break from running has done me the world of good but the knee still feels delicate. Might leave it another month and start back very slowly.
 
Examining the running archives I see there was a similar pause between notebook 2 and notebook 3 where no running is recorded between;

July 5th: (1998) Toral marathon, 191minutes-42km (This must be the most minimalist of all race reports)

…and November 11th: Plantio park, 10 laps, 35 minutes-7km.

No explanation is given for 4 months and 6 days of abstinence. Just cold numbers. It might have been post-marathon blues but I suspect that there was a football injury in there too.

Another month it is then. Will try to get in a bit of brisk walking in the meantime.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Fascinating reminiscences, BB. Do keep them coming!

[glaconman]

Yes. Enthralling might be the word I would use to describe BB's writing.