The other day, I was folding laundry when I noticed something bizarre.
That is my wall, and that is a crack that was not there previously.
Now, my building is fairly new. And it’s constructed on a hill. I realize that buildings settle and we’ve had all sorts of crazy hot-then-freezing-then-hot weather lately, so I understand that this is probably normal but –
Who knows when the crack happened? It’s possible it had been there for a couple of weeks. But all of a sudden I was jumping out of my skin at every little noise and admonishing the cats to “land more carefully, please,” convinced that the building was about to collapse.
Paranoia at its finest.
(On the upside, we don’t own this place and in two and a half weeks, that crack will be someone else’s problem. Renting for the win.)
Anyway, my irrational fear of dying a tragic structural-engineering-related death soon faded away. But another paranoia took its place. And this one is worse.
I apologize for the picture of my foot, but it hurts. Right where the arrow is pointing.
During my long run on Sunday, I started noticing a little pain in my right foot. Halfway back, along the outside, more toward the top than the bottom. It didn’t hurt particularly badly, but it was there. Long runs often bring aches and pains, so I shrugged it off and took the following day (Monday) as a rest day.
Last night I ran a very easy 4 miles and: it was still there. Still not terribly painful, and not any worse than it was, but definitely noticeable.
Aches and pains are one thing, but I know enough about feet to have a pretty good idea of what’s in there, right in that spot where it hurts. That’s not a big tough muscle in there. It’s a delicate metatarsal. A fragile philange. A collection of twiggy little bones and joints that has borne the brunt of every stride I’ve taken with my slightly paunchy marathon-training frame for the last six months and HOLY CRAP THAT CRACK IN THE WALL WAS AN OMEN.
Overreaction? Maybe. But I’ve never had a stress fracture and I’d prefer to keep it that way, so I’m going to take a few days off of running.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself, as I have no gym membership and no access to a pool or appropriate cross-training equipment. I guess I could lift some weights or something. Not my favorite activity, but better than nothing.
I suppose I’ll have plenty of spare time to dwell upon the crack in the wall and compose elaborate pleas to nonexistent deities, too.
Please, running gods, be merciful. I’ve heeded your omen. I’m doing the right thing and backing off. I’m not being stupid and pushing through this, even though I’m tempted to. I have a half marathon in three weeks and a marathon in seven. I beg you: don’t send this training cycle crashing down on me like a poorly-constructed condominium building.
Sigh. I really honestly cannot decide whether I’m being paranoid or not, because it doesn’t hurt THAT badly, and not at all when I’m just walking around or whatever. The only time I notice it is when I’m running or walking around barefoot. Could it be a stress reaction? Some sort of weird muscle tissue bruise thing? Who knows.
But my gut feeling is that any pain in a fragile bony area like that is probably something to approach cautiously. I’m hoping that this is just a random tweak that goes away with a few days of rest.
Because, unlike the crack in the wall of my rented apartment, this is my problem, long term. I own this body. (Although sometimes I wish I could refinance.)
In happier news, I have a shoe winner! The ASICS NEO-33s go to:
That’s Michaela! I’ll email you, Michaela. Thanks to everyone who entered!