Saturday, July 4, 2015

My 1st DNF

Hey Guys!!

I have regretfully let my blog slip this summer. I'm so sorry! And now I have a big fat fail to report.  You know I love reading about your fails and successes. I like to learn what works and what doesn't work for you guys. So, here's what happened on my trip into downtown FAIL-VILLE.

I wish I could say, ah-ha! That's it! But it's never so easy. First,  I hate summer running. Every year I swear I won't train through the summer. But I usually do. And I usually wreck myself. However, I am not sure if or how wrecked I am, yet.

I had a few tough weeks adjusting to the heat and humidity in NC. Fine. So did everyone else. Then last week I felt like I was finally able to run without bitching, crying, reporting the weather on all my Strava links. I did it! I kept plugging away. I felt good.


I'm a liar. I will deny any pain to myself and others until blood is pouring out of my eyeballs.  And then I will tell you it's a nosebleed smearing around because I ate too much gluten for dinner. I will grimace until my teeth break before acknowledging pain. Unless there is bone showing, keep going. But it's not to be a tough guy. It's because I'm willing the pain away. If I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist! The pain to me is because:

*I ran too fast on my way out of Umstead yesterday.
*I switched to a 0 drop too aggressively.
*just too many cul de sac turns too fast.
*too much mileage. Not enough mileage.
*too many rocks on the trails.
*dehydration. I just need to drink more.

I can't say that when I run I'm in pain. I'm not. But afterwards I sometimes feel like shit. But by the next run I'm okay. That's normal, right? Historically, I run a lot. I run hard. So that's the price I pay. I'm good with that. I've said it a million times: I rather run hard and injure ~once a year then run safe and stay healthy. I LOVE the fine line. I love the edge. I love the success that comes with pushing myself at the risk of wrecking myself.

So it's all very vague for me in the summer. I can't tell when to back off. And quite frankly, I don't think I would back off. Only a few of you will nod your head to that one.


So, this morning I had a 5k scheduled. I hate 5k's. But I looked at it as though it was a matter of minutes until I could claim my reward for all my hard work. Just a few crappy miles to solidify that summer can't touch me. I planned on doing the motions and collecting an 18:35-18:45. Taking my dinky trophy home and moving on.

Contrar Mu Frar.

Let me back up to my strides yesterday. They always predict my fitness. My strides were strong, almost obnoxious for parking lot running. I did 4x200 getting the pace just under 5 pace. I was sure my 5k would be tit.

I did my 2 mile warm up. I switched shoes.  Then, I went to go do strides before the start and I couldn't. My body was saying no. I tried to push and I was getting zapped in my ankle. I thought that was weird. But still, I lined up because I drove almost 2 hours and I'm fucking fit!

So the gun goes off and I feel paralyzed. Partly out of fear that I'm about to break my leg on the next step. I told myself to shut up and suck it up. I closed my eyes and went hard again. It wasn't working. My leg was acting weird. It was getting a warm burning feeling like it was torn. My range of motion was stolen. I figured I was being a wimp because I don't like 5k's. I kept trying to go. But it was like my legs were on backwards. I was so focused on figuring out what was going on that I was running like shit. Or was I making this up? Don't know. See above section on lying.

So, after about .50 I decided I would DNF. I made that scrunchy face trying to hide my dissappointment. I have never quit a race. Then, the logistics came into play. I was running on a parade route and there was no escape! What a nightmare. I scanned feverishly and found a space between some people and ran into a parking lot. I stopped. I thought, now what? It's over? I failed. My kids had secretly made all these "I'm proud of you" signs and I have to say I stopped running? I tapered all week for this?

I was shocked. I figured I overreacted and this was some horrible dream. My leg didn't hurt standing there. I decided to do a long cool down. That lasted maybe another 3 miles before I was almost crying again. Now, I'm really upset. I'm mope-running, avoiding the finish line...circling a bank parking a zillion times just for mileage. Ridiculous.

So, after talking to a few friends and feeling cheered up a little, I left. I sat in my car and mutilated my leg trying to self diagnosis. I need to know NOW if this is broken or strained, torn...I can't take uncertainty. Well, I don't know. I'm going to have to wait until Monday to see my Ortho.

So that sums up my 8:30 hour this morning. I'll probably swim until my rotator cuffs fall off tomorrow.

On a side note. The part of my leg that hurts is the exact area of my fibula I fractured into 2 pieces last August. The odds of breaking a fibula are less than 10%. The odds of rebreaking a fibula are NILL according to my Ortho. He said it would be impossible to break it in the same area again.  So I will relax knowing that is MUST be soft tissue. I just stepped on something, ya....until Monday, that's my story!

I promise to update you. Thanks for caring and reading. : )



  1. au contraire mon frère – literally, "on the contrary, my brother."

  2. So sorry to hear that... it's one thing to bomb and run badly, but to DNF with the fear of injury!!! hope it's nothing bad and you are back on the road soon.