Back From the Dead -- 3.3 of Bridge to 10K

I blogged about what if felt like to not run. I am amazed at how forlorn I felt to not run, how lame and pathetic I felt. I think there is a definite difference between taking intentional time off, and taking unintentional time off.

I had no choice. These are the times I wish I had insurance. I can't get insurance because I had cancer recently and it's considered pre-existing, beyond the fact that I was denied anyway when I was expecting because I was assumed "infertile". There might be a problem with Obamacare, but there is definitely a problem with current care! Without insurance, I have learned it is impossible to find a general practitioner who will take you as a new patient, and mine retired.

I definitely needed medical attention. Every step I took it felt as though the top of my femur had a knife attached to it. It was right in the ball and socket, not running down my leg, or in my groin like all tendon and muscular injuries. Both hips hurt at one point, but I discovered that to be the abductor, and I did exercises to relieve the pain, and bring healing. The knife pain continued throughout these last two weeks. It was literally, crippling. I would be walking like normal, and then something would happen, shooting the pain into my being. If caught unaware, I would cry out, but often I would bite my lip, close my eyes, and keep trying to walk, tough and strong and drama-free.

It got better, and then it got worse, then better again. Three days ago I had a day of no pain. I could have cried with relief. Two days ago I had one episode of alarming pain, but it passed quickly. Yesterday I felt strong and capable.

I missed running so much, and did not feel like giving up. I went to bed last night deciding today would be the day. I would do what I can, and at any moment of alarm, I was prepared to stop.

I set off at a slower pace. The entire run was a slower pace. Apparently my feet had been dipped in cement. It felt good to be out there, but I was out there to be moving, not to break personal records. The first mile I felt some dull pain at my injury point, but I don't think I would have noticed it, had I not been looking for it. I continued to run. I ran, and ran, and ran. At the halfway point I knew I could do it. At the last lap, I knew I could do it. At the five minute warning, I knew I was doing it. I fought the entire way.

I noticed my running, and what my feet do when I run. They absolutely over-pronate. I end up doing this weird ankle rotating thing to make up for it. I could see how actual, correct running shoes would help prevent injury, and I look forward to be able to purchase some in 4 weeks! I wish it were today, but I will wait.

I ran 3.7 miles, about 1/2 mile less than I "should have", but I don't care. I am so happy to be out there again, running. It is what I do. I might be as slow as molasses, but I am happy as a clam. Peach seemed excited for me too. I'm not sure if she sensed the feeling, but she kept giving me "five" and hugging me. What an absolute thrill!