I started reading a great book yesterday called "A Clydesdale's Tale: or How a Big Guy Trained For and Ran the Vermont 100" by Steve Latour. It is a bit tongue and cheek, but got me motivated and even more excited to start running today. There was a quote that really struck a chord with me.
"Innate potential is a wonderful thing, but it is not necessary for achievement. Sure, to be a world champion takes potential, desire, and effort, but to improve oneself greatly does not require potential. All it requires is a basic ability to function combined with desire and effort. That is the secret."
The book is the writer's story. He is a man that you would never think is a runner. He is a man that had never run before and was obese. Yet he did it, despite how he looked to others and despite how people thought a runner has to look --- he is a runner. In the book he defines "runner" as:
"If you actually give a care whether someone calls you a jogger or a runner, then you are a runner. Everything else is secondary. To wit, if while going for an easy two miles you are greatly out of breath and taking in oxygen in a manner like unto a wildfire that sucks away the very living air around it for miles, while you are sweating like the leaky faucets of a thousand correction facilities, as you are shaking all over in your limbs as if the monkeys of all the jungles of Africa were swinging over you, and if you are maintaining a steady 20 minute per mile pace all the while, and then you feel insulted that someone says 'Hey! Get a load of that jogger!', then you are a runner. Don't let anyone tell you different, for anything they say is as the braying of donkeys and the barking of dogs."
I left my house in New Orleans this morning at 4:15 a.m. The storms were terrible last night with flooding, power outages, and hail the size of golf balls. I didn't really sleep because I was afraid --- in light of the power going out --- that I would oversleep, not pick up my colleague en route to the airport, and miss the 6 a.m. flight to Chicago. I made the flight, even though the storm started up again as I was leaving my house, and "napped" during the flight to Chicago. We landed at O'Hare at roughly 8 a.m. I wore my running clothes on the plane figuring we would get to the hotel so early that my room wouldn't be ready and I would go straight to the gym.
The car picked us up and it took us about an hour to get to the hotel with traffic. Our rooms were ready (and I even got a suite), but even though they were, I literally dropped off my bag, put on a pair of shorts, and went straight to the gym. I was able to run again today, and I was excited. The hotel has recently been gutted and the gym is a part of the spa at the hotel; this was actually the perfect setting. I spent a decent amount of time stretching, and then started on the treadmill. I went in thinking that I wasn't going to go too far today as I didn't want to overdo it, and also that I was going to listen to my body and if the pain was unbearable that I was going to stop. (I also took 600 mg of ibuprofen before I started.) At roughly 3 miles in I started to feel some pain in my right achilles --- so 5k it was today. My pace was 11:18 per mile. Not stellar, but also not terrible considering everything. I had absolutely no pain in my left foot --- which was huge. I cooled down and spent some time stretching --- including stretching in the steam room. The steam room was a perfect place to stretch because the heat was great for my muscles. I felt absolutely amazing when I left the gym.
Here is where it gets kind of funny --- as I left the gym/spa I asked the woman at the desk if she had any bags that I could put some ice in so that I could ice my achilles. She said that she would have housekeeping bring it up to my room. I got to my room and the front desk called about the ice --- asking if I wanted bags to put ice in or the single use ice packs. I said, if they wouldn't mind, I would like both as I could use the single use packs later in the day. Not 5 minutes later two men came to my door, with all of the ice on a silver platter. There was some confusion, as one of the men wanted to ask me some question about how I had hurt myself in the gym that morning. As soon as I explained that the injury was longstanding and that I just needed ice they breathed a sigh of relief (and left me a little "care package" of single use ice packs for the next few days).
So, I iced my achilles --- with a spectacular view of the City in the process. I took some more ibuprofen later in the day and put on some compression socks (to wear under my boots) as a bit of an insurance policy. I don't want to jinx anything --- but I feel pretty good right now.
I listened to my doctor, as I previously reported, and bought the Adidas shoes I wrote about the other day. So far, so good. Truly, they were the best shoes I have ever run in. I am going to wait another day or so before I buy another pair --- but I am pleased. When I got them the other day I was so excited at the thought of being able to run that I could barely contain myself.
Fingers crossed. So far, so good. Hoping that on Friday I will be able to run the actual course of next week's Shamrock Shuffle.
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