Even the smallest of injuries can feel like it's brought your training to a permanent end. More often than not it's opportunity, not disability, that injuries offer.
Running injuries affect more than just the body. Be it a blister, sprain or open wound that merely forces a single run short, or a fracture that sends you to the sidelines for weeks or months, injuries take their toll on your psychological well-being every bit as much as your physical health.
Four weeks into a delightfully intense half-marathon training program, I find myself having to nurse a relapsed injury back to health, and though I’m trying to remain positive, I must confess that depression has clenched its tight fist around my mind.
Back in January I suffered a posterior tibial tendon strain which put me off my feet and back into the gym for non-impact cross-training in place of my usual runs. Two weeks after the strain, I was able to resume running, though I was wise enough to reintroduce my mileage slowly. I had plans in the works for a half-marathon program. I was very excited about it, and once my base running returned to the level that corresponded with the beginning of the program, I jumped in with great joy.
Five weeks from tendon strain, with the new training program underway, my feet and ankles were feeling stronger than ever. Not simply stronger “as a runner”, but quite genuinely the strongest they have ever felt in my entire life. As I continued with the program, I tackled my interval training, tempo runs, drills, hill workouts and long runs with enormous energy and drive, and I was seeing the results in the stunning transformation of my performance. I was running longer and stronger than ever. My times were improving dramatically. I felt like a machine – well-maintained and unstoppable.
Then came the first recovery week, and with it, the devastating recurrence of my tendon strain.
I fear recovery weeks. They are necessary. The body needs to slow down now and again and be allowed the time to rebuild and recuperate. One day a week is not enough for full recovery, and a week of less intense training is supposed to bring you back stronger. But I’ve experienced injury during my recovery weeks before, and not just with running. I have muscle injuries that have appeared during recovery weeks. I’ve become ill during recovery weeks. It seems that whenever I let up, whenever I pull back my effort, my body takes a turn for the worse. I seem to respond best to continuous stress, but can’t help but feel that my recovery week injuries are telling me something. I wish I only knew what.
Two weeks of non-impact training in an attempt to rehab the tendon and muscle once again, and no progress had been made. A visit to the doctor turned into two weeks of daily electro-stimulation, ultrasound and massage, plus a new regimen of cycling and aqua running, and regular thrice weekly treatment continues now into the fourth week of doctor visits. Now, almost two months since my relapse, and not only am I not yet fully recovered, unable to resume running, but I’m actually afraid to do so.
That fear is overwhelming. It’s frustrating, and the situation makes me feel worthless. I see distressingly overweight people running down the road and, after feeling proud for them for getting out and exercising, I feel angry. Angry that I see such heavy, unfit people putting enormous strain on their bodies, their joints, their tendons, and doing so without repercussions. Yet here I am, a fit, light, athletic individual, stopped in his tracks by a little piece of connective tissue no bigger than a couple strands of spaghetti.
So deep is this depression that it’s difficult even to find motivation to cross-train. I know that this recovery period is an opportunity. It’s time that I can utilize to increase my fitness in ways that I wouldn’t consider while running. It’s a chance to expand my athletic endeavors. But it all seems so… senseless. Knowing that something should be done and actually doing it are two entirely different things. Motivation is hard to come by when depressed.
I have been cross-training. I’ve been forcing myself. But it’s not been easy. And of course, depression magnifies all the problems that one has in life. A problem with an employee has become a deeply hurtful situation that has me questioning the future of my business. Financial difficulties – as a result of the same problem employee – has me thinking that I’d be better off abandoning my career and just getting a job at a local supermarket. Exciting opportunities to present new thinking and material to new audiences has become a burden. Even eating well seems to take too much energy – all because I can’t run.
And then I consider this entire running project of mine. It’s an experiment – even says so in the title. Experiments fail. I’ve failed innumerable times in life, and it’s by virtue of failure that I’ve also seen success. But I’ve come to love running. Addicted to it, one could say, and now I don’t want to fail. I promised reports on my progress, good or bad, but feel that the bad has overwhelmed the good, and I hate being negative. Moreover, I’ve come to love running in minimalist footwear. I’ve even tossed on shoes now and again just to continuously compare and contrast, and I can genuinely state that I love the freedom of running minimally far in excess of running with shoes. I feel that I’m adding only negative data to an already fringe and questionable habit. But I know it’s not true. My injuries are not “barefoot running” injuries. They are “new runner” injuries. They are “overuse” injuries. Injuries that have nothing to do with any particular style of running. And the injury that has me out of the game now doesn’t even go that far. It’s a relapse of a not-fully-healed (despite my belief that it was) injury resulting from not properly caring for an open wound. It’s not reflective of anything but my own forgetfulness. Yet I still feel like a failure.
Thus is the power of depression. I have everything going for me, but I can’t even find the energy to get out of bed in the morning. Injury can alter one’s life in ways far in excess of mere physical, and temporary, disability. I admire the professional athletes who pick themselves up and try again. I admire their determination, and in turn I’m inspired to kick the negativity out of my life – I just need to take action.
I will recovery. I may need to change my timelines. I may need to opt out of a race in two months (which, after looking at the finishing times from last year’s competition, I felt confident I could actually win my age group and place high overall!), and I may have to take baby steps for the next few weeks still. But I will recover. I need to realign my focus toward the process, not the goal.
Along the way, I’m discovering that I actually enjoy swimming. Had I not been injured and forced into the pool for water running training, I may never have given swimming a fair chance.
At the peak of my depression, my mind thought it would throw me another curve ball and decided to toss my body down a flight of stairs while carrying a mountain bike. My unconscious has such a sense of humor, doesn’t it? As a result, my strength training options became even more limited while my body recovered from that fun ride. But what I discovered is that simple push-ups and pull-ups (of varying positions and varieties) have done more to transform my body over the past couple months than even my most well-planned, documented and executed strength training and nutrition programs in the past. I’ve discovered that my body responds better to daily and continuous challenges, rather than a couple intense sessions each week. Miraculously, despite injury and depression, I’ve somehow gained muscle mass and decreased my body fat percentage.
In the midst of the most difficult financial quarter in my decade-plus career, I’m finding that I have new business opportunities because of my injury. Though I’m still currently in a slump, new work being done now as a result of my physical downtime is, I suspect, going to serve as a strong foundation for even better opportunities in the near future.
It’s difficult to recognize even the most extraordinary blessing that is standing before you when you’re down. I’m frankly blown away that an athletic injury can have such a remarkable impact on my psyche, especially given that my athletic endeavors are entirely personal, not professional. But there ya go… It’s devastating. Yet I continue to try and pull myself up. And recover I will. And when I do, I’m going to kick the marathon’s a&*!
In the words of the great Monty Python, “life’s a piece of shit, when you look at it.”
Oh no! Sorry! I meant to say “always look on the bright side of life.”
This too shall pass.
###
I actually found this post pretty inspirational. Here you are suffering because you can’t run and here I am sitting on the couch not even TRYING to run. My own inactivity is probably more a symptom of depression than a cause, but reading this made me feel guilty for not getting up and at least trying to get myself moving again.
Many thanks Amanda! I was struggling with the question of whether or not I should talk about my trials and injuries. I want to report everything here, good and bad, but I’d hate for my depression to bleed over into the vibe of the blog. Your words are reassuring, and that term “inspirational” in turn lifts me up. Thank you!
Of course, I’m feeling a bit guilty about making you feel guilty for not getting moving. Do we both have an overly developed guilt complex?
If it makes you feel any better, I just had a bite of Ben & Jerry’s while watching Pulp Fiction on my couch.
I am definitely loving the VFFs and barefoot running, and like you my arches, ankles, and calves are stronger than they’ve ever been. But I am noticing that improvement is slower than I’d like, and when I push a little too hard find I get minor strains that seem to set me back a bit also. Nothing serious, but it is a bit of a bummer that I’ve not been able to advance as fast as I’d like. I’ve just chalked it up to such a major transition, from wearing shoes for 30 years (and arch supports for 10 of those) to running with no support, and am just assuming in time it will all come together. I suppose that it only makes sense, being that we’re not only trying to strengthen new muscles and joints, but quite possibly ones that may never have even fully been developed due to wearing supportive shoes for so many years. To keep positive, I just think back my first VFF run, and how sore I was after only half a mile, and realize that while I’m not running 10 miles a day yet, I have made some good progress.
@Russ – your words are extremely reassuring! And you’re right, I think we’ve *both* come leaps and bounds from our first VFF runs! Granted, I can’t run *at all* right now – blasted injury – but I went from huffing and puffing and dying at a 12 min+/mile pace for two miles (couldn’t do any more!!!) to tossing off 7 mile runs at a 7:30min/mile pace, and not even being tired! That’s huge progress, and I forget that.
I long for those runs and more. But even with injury, I’m significantly more fit than I was. There’s something to be said for that. You point out that we’ve been wearing shoes for 30 years (we’re the same age, eh?) and we’re now using muscles and tissues that quite possibly may never have even fully developed. We’re literally becoming new individuals. And that takes times.
Glad to be on the journey with you, and thanks for writing in and lifting my spirits. I’ll be remembering your words when I start my incredibly slow return to the roads.
You need to participate in a contest for top-of-the-line blogs on the web. I’ll suggest this website!
Its great that you Shed light on a few things I didn’t understand. Thank you , hope you can keep writing blog.2
An attention-grabbing discussion is price comment. I think that you must write more on this subject, it may not be a taboo topic but usually people are not enough to speak on such topics. To the next. Cheers
I’m going through something exceptionally similar at the moment. And I have to say it’s affected me in probably the same way it affected you. I’ve come to love running, and am depressed that my body as let me down(no doubt through faults of my own)
It’s a very inspiring article, it encourages me to find the positive side of my situation.
All the best and keep running. (:
eradicated the degree is regarded total, and also the participant moves to the next degree of