That’s the blandest race bib I’ve ever been assigned, but it looks much better against the background of a nice hotel comforter. Sadly, it won’t be pinned to running apparel today. For the second time in 2014, I’m missing out on a half marathon for which I’ve paid an entry fee.
Calf problems have been the culprit in both missed races; this most recent episode prompted me to see a doctor. An MRI revealed the underlying problem is in my achilles tendons. I’ve abused them to the brink of rupture, most likely from a combination of bad running form and an insufficient pre- and post-run stretching routine. Health insurance paid for the diagnosis; they will not, however, cover physical therapy/rehab. I’ve consequently been forced to choose rest as my only means of healing. I’ve taken 6 weeks off from running since the latest injury, but up until this morning, intended to give today’s race an honest effort. Maybe it was the pre-dawn alarm clock talking, but I awoke too apprehensive to run.
The prospect of jogging ( I hate jogging; I want to run) 6 and a half miles of an out-and-back course, only to sustain injury and have to walk back to the finish area; not getting injured, but taking more time to finish than I want to have to tell anyone about; the possibility of doing further — or severe — injury to an achilles; the next 3 days of walking injured while sightseeing in the Pacific Northwest; all make the quest for that shiny medal at the finish line seem less than worthwhile.
So I sit in the hotel room, having dropped Jennifer off at the start line for her full marathon (Jen wants to run a race in all 50 states. I seem to be striving toward missing one in all 50. I’ve achieved Indiana and now Washington), getting my money’s worth of free continental breakfast, waiting for football, and hammering out a blog post. I’m contemplating whether or not to take the entire winter off from running, hoping I’ll be healed and ready to start again come spring. I have little interest in being outside on the lakefront path during Chicago winters anyway. But this is probably the wrong day to make that decision.
At least I get to see Seattle for the first time.
P.S. I’m told it’s not “skag-it” or “skay-git.” It is pronounced “skaj-it”
Now you know that too.