“Six weeks? Six weeks no running?”
It certainly could have been worse. I knew the nagging pain in my ankle that had dogged me run after run this past fall was something to be taken seriously. I had taken time off from running in the hopes of eking out one last triathlon for the year. Between the cold water and air, my legs were so numb on the run leg of my last race for 2015, I had fooled myself into thinking that the pain was in my head. But it wasn’t.
I had taken two solid weeks off from running to try and let it evaporate while I sought recommendations for orthopedists. I was seeing Dr. Ogden, the ankle guy to see, according to my triathlon team. He diagnosed me as having a stress reactions in my right tibia, which unknowingly caused me to change my running gait, which is why I was feeling pain in my ankle and not my tibia. The change in running gait he said, had protected the stress reaction from becoming a full blown stress fracture.
And all I had to do was take six more weeks of running off.
It was a blessing and a curse. As I would later find out, passively taking time off of running and filling it with other activities was almost like a vacation. A boring one albeit, one that left me curled up on the floor holding my running shoes in self-mockery.
But it was at least essentially free.
la jolie coureuse 