The Kandahar Marathon: Week Forty-Six

The Kandahar Marathon: Week Forty-Six

“&$*%^%$&)(#$*&^%#.”

                                                            `                                               ~Me

I’ve been too frustrated this week even to write this down, though I feel that if you’re one of my regular readers then the least I can do is to offer you some form of explanation. Here goes.

Heading into this year of running, my great fear was injury. Surely, I thought, doubling my mileage would significantly increase the likelihood of stress fractures, shin splints, plantar fasciitis, and all of those other miserable ailments that runners so often get sidelined with. Yet here I am in mid-November, and to be honest the worst thing to have happened is that very minor surgery on my foot, a few missing toenails, the occasional slight muscle pull. Things had gone so much more smoothly than I expected…until this past week.

I don’t know if it’s the weather, which has been frigid enough in Nebraska to force me onto my treadmill most of the time, or if instead it’s something else, but last week I fell apart. My mileage dipped down to nearly non-existent, and the combination of three miles here and seven there added up to a meager twenty-seven for the week, something like half of my usual weekly totals. Then Sunday, it culminated in what felt like a disaster.

I woke up at seven or so and did some writing, intending to go out for a double-digit jog. By ten in the morning, however, I was so fatigued that I could barely drag myself to bed and, once I did, I slept for three more hours. My body seems to be rebelling. I don’t have a fever, a cough, or a runny nose. What I have is muscles that are refusing to cooperate. It feels a bit like trying to get a stubborn horse to stand up. Good luck with that.

Monday morning, after nine hours of fitful slumber, I got on the treadmill and forced four miles out at a feeble pace. Not terrible, but far from the marathon training I’m used to doing. My hope is that perhaps this week I’ll get back into a rhythm. Should my muscles persist with this tired-horse routine, I have my doubts about my ability to finish out the year. I’ll know more next week after further field testing. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, everyone. I’m thankful for your support.

~Mark