Back to our regularly scheduled programming (soon, I hope)

Bloggers,

This is the longest I've gone without blogging since Celeste and I started this journey back in November -- and with good reason. Almost two weeks ago while charging through a TNT hill work-out, I felt a searing pain on the top of my left foot (the same spot that gave me grief a couple months back). Sprinting uphill wasn't the problem; on the downward recovery, I couldn't hit the ground without hurting. I figured I'd show some restraint, cut practice short, and let my foot heal. The damage, however, had already been done. After hustling around the city for a week, not running, and feeling only minimal relief, I took Coach Mom's advice and went to see a podiatrist. I had resisted for a few days because I was nervous about the recurring nature of the pain. I didn't want to be told that there was some chronic issue with my foot.

Highly recommended by a co-worker of mine, the doctor did not disappoint. She conducted a thorough foot exam (and sent me for an x-ray) and concluded that the problem was with the fit of my sneakers and how tightly I've been lacing them for the past few months; she suggested I see a physical therapist and invest in new shoes.

Who am I to disagree with medically-mandated shopping? The pain having subsided, I trekked uptown to JackRabbit Sports earlier this weekend and spent an hour with an outstanding salesman (shout-out to Mark on 14th Street) who recommended a wider, more padded sneaker. Enter the Asics Nimbus wide (read: fatty) model. Named after a puffy breed of cloud, the shoes are spectacularly comfortable; I couldn't wait to get in them and hit the road again. After being off my feet for a week and a half, I prepared myself to start slowly, trying a 7 or 8-miler to get my body back into a groove before upping mileage to pre-injury distances. I laced up last night and, loving the balmy (for February) evening air, felt amazing heading down the FDR on the route you all know by now is one of my favorites in the city.

Somewhere near the Brooklyn Bridge, however, disaster struck. I tripped over some errant litter on the walking path and fell to the ground, twisting my left foot and landing on my side. I stood up to regain my bearing and found that I couldn't put any pressure on it without experiencing piercing pain. Sans cell phone and cash (wielding only my keys and a subway card), I literally hobbled down some side street with no clue how I would get myself back to my apartment. Searching fruitlessly for the 6 stop near the Brooklyn Bridge, I stopped at a pay phone and cried while trying to call my parents collect. No doubt the most embarrassing moment of my training thus far and I'm putting it out there to remind everyone how emotional the process of prepping for a long-distance race can be. The sudden jarring shift from the elation of running again to the devastation of knowing that thanks to a clumsy fall I'd be off my feet for another week tore me up.

I sat on the curb waiting for a cab that never came (I figured when I got back to my apartment I'd buzz for my roommate to bring down some cash), tears still welling up in my eyes, frustrated that some asshole's trash could wreak such havoc. A public bus shuttled me to around the corner from my apartment and I stumbled back by hopping on one foot for a block's length. I've been icing, Advil-ing, and reclining for the past 24-hours. The pain is very much present but I can feel it getting better slowly, if not surely. I'm upset (I'm furious) and I'm exhausted from worrying so much about what this means for my training. The only sources of comfort right now are knowing that in due time the human body heals and that the TNT calendar has been so demanding this early in the game. That we've been doing distances longer than a half-marathon for almost a month puts me in a great position for a May race. A few weeks off the road shouldn't really destroy the master plan (knock on wood).

So bloggers, back to the couch and boob tube I go. I'll keep you posted re: this stupid injury and can't wait till I write about how great it feels to wake up at 6:30 a.m. in the freezing cold and bang out 18 miles before brunch.

Onwards and upwards, right?

8 Mile

Yeah, I just made an Eminem reference. Deal with it because I ran 8 miles today and I can do what I want! Except walk up stairs...I can't do that very well right now.

I finally used the watch from the future that Jenn gave me months and months ago. It uses GPS triangulation to calculate my distance and pace and it's awesome. I mean, it's 2010, guys. This is the future.

Now I'm going to enjoy the best part about running: eating.

My Weekend...

Meet Patsy and Eddie. Bolli and Stoli. Sweetie darling.

My weekend started like this:

...and ended like this:

Today I'm going to try to run 8 miles. God help me.

Love,

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