It had to be there. Marsascala Front. The same front where I tried to run more than 5 weeks ago, but where after 5k the pain in my knee told me that I needed to take a long break.
I did. I had to completely shift my targets, halt my momentum. Missed out the LungBuster, missed out the Duathlon, and next Sunday will miss out the Half-Marathon. Sometimes, when your body says stop, a certain type of pain makes you listen.
After visits to the podologist and another adjustment to my new supporting soles, I felt at ease walking and my knee felt normal. So it was time to hit back to the road. A come-back, as the name implies, is a return to where you previously were. And this return is not only physical, it's deeper than that. So the place where I had to come-back had to be the place where I had left it off.
And today, at 3.30pm, I was back there: at Marsascala. I ran for 3k - I know, it's a short distance, but this time I have to take it slow and build it up again carefully. Anyway, it still felt new, different, energizing. I could enjoy the cold sea-breaze caressing my body, drying the small beads of sweat, while I treaded freely.
Three times in these past weeks I tried to use Hetfield's words and tell my knees "You will do, what I say, when I say", but they always replied with a painful "No". Today, I added "Back to the Front!". And their silent reply was golden. Me was back!
An old adage says "The night is darkest before dawn". Next Sunday, watching athletes run a half-marathon I wished to take part into but I'm unable to, will probably be the darkest part of this saga. But from next Monday, I'm hoping for a new dawn. The alarm is set: next Monday at 6.15am. I want to see the sun rise while I re-unite with an old friend - the runway strip.
Swim, Bike, Run - the tripod can once again be complete!
I did. I had to completely shift my targets, halt my momentum. Missed out the LungBuster, missed out the Duathlon, and next Sunday will miss out the Half-Marathon. Sometimes, when your body says stop, a certain type of pain makes you listen.
After visits to the podologist and another adjustment to my new supporting soles, I felt at ease walking and my knee felt normal. So it was time to hit back to the road. A come-back, as the name implies, is a return to where you previously were. And this return is not only physical, it's deeper than that. So the place where I had to come-back had to be the place where I had left it off.
And today, at 3.30pm, I was back there: at Marsascala. I ran for 3k - I know, it's a short distance, but this time I have to take it slow and build it up again carefully. Anyway, it still felt new, different, energizing. I could enjoy the cold sea-breaze caressing my body, drying the small beads of sweat, while I treaded freely.
Three times in these past weeks I tried to use Hetfield's words and tell my knees "You will do, what I say, when I say", but they always replied with a painful "No". Today, I added "Back to the Front!". And their silent reply was golden. Me was back!
An old adage says "The night is darkest before dawn". Next Sunday, watching athletes run a half-marathon I wished to take part into but I'm unable to, will probably be the darkest part of this saga. But from next Monday, I'm hoping for a new dawn. The alarm is set: next Monday at 6.15am. I want to see the sun rise while I re-unite with an old friend - the runway strip.
Swim, Bike, Run - the tripod can once again be complete!
well done Mark. a slow recovery is better for lasting results!
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