Diary of a Recovering Runner

This is installment number one in the ongoing diary of a broken and in recovery runner. I've been off the pavement for a week now and, dare I say it, the knee is looking good.

I saw Helen on Friday for a good telling off, some ultrasound and a little tape. I then followed that up on Saturday with two RPMs and a Body Balance and spent a few hours standing around in high heeled boots that night. Even worse, I ended up tramping around the Sanctuary on Sunday, so by rights my knee should have been shattered.

On Monday night, after a morning upper body weights session, I messed around in the pool again and discovered that it was possible to launch myself off in the middle of the pool and not sink. In fact, I even managed to kick a little and imagine that I was almost swimming. I just needed to add the arm movements and I would have been away.

However my newfound optimism was fading a little by Tuesday night. After a go-nowhere-in-particular session with Lesleigh I began to feel like this swimming thing was taking too long, I began to obsess about losing my fitness again, and I felt the nasty drifting feeling that always hits me when I don't have a goal to work towards. It may have been my body still coming down off the thyroid high, but I was thoroughly over myself.

So here's the new goal. Stop worrying about achieving the goal and simply enjoy being.

Thankfully my session with Helen today went well. More ultrasound, more tape, and distinct surprise that I made it up and down ten flights of stairs after yesterday's fire drill with no pain. Stupid Pip would be wanting to try running again as soon as possible. The Pip who actually listens to her physio and friends knows that she needs to get her biomechanics sorted out and stop injuring herself. God - even the RPM instructor told me off this morning for going too hard.

So after our Auckland holiday this weekend I'll be booking a session with John Sloane, the Wellington podiatrist famed for fixing broken runners. I'm NOT to run again until then.

I want to get to the gym while I'm in Auckland. It would have been so much easier to have just been able to pull on a pair of running tights and head out the door, but it won't be that much more of an effort to get to Victoria Street instead. I need to find a pool in town with a shallow end to it as well, as I'm assuming Newmarket will be deep at both, given that it's olympic.

The little dress is hanging in the closet, and there's a new little pair of gold sandals in a box on the bed to go with it. My hair has been slashed back into a cute little bob, and I'm as ready for Auckland as I'm ever going to be...