Perhaps I imagined that by not writing about my troubles, they would somehow go away. They haven’t, and I’m still very fed up.
To pick up the story from last time, I did indeed set off on my “stately 3 or 4 miler” the following day, but got no further than 100 metres before the calf went again. Not as sharply as it had the previous week, but I couldn’t run on it. The only consolation about it happening so shortly into the run was that I didn’t have far to hobble back home. The Hyde Park 10K was out of the question.
Since then, I have managed two fairly normal, if short, outings of around 4 miles each time, and another jaunt that I had to abort after two miles with the calf monster growling in its cave, threatening to leap out at me if I carried on. I’ve also managed 3 trips to the gym for an hour of cardiovascular agitation.
The good news is that I don’t have a serious injury. It’s nothing more than a strain, but it’s come at a bad time, just as the 16-week schedule was getting under way. More important, it’s disrupted the momentum, which had been so positive in the weeks before Christmas. Things had been going well, and I was greatly looking forward to the two races I ended up missing. I’m currently on the darkened downward momentum slope, hoping it isn’t a long one.
Nothing for it but to carry on, taking it easy and hoping for the best. As long as the gym retains some appeal, and I take the recovery runs steadily, I hope this rather desultory period will be over soon. At least Almeria gives me something to aim for, even if the idea of a PB now seems unlikely. If I can get round the half marathon course without aggravating the calf, I’ll be happy.
