I don't like waiting. I would have to say impatience is one of my worst qualities, so not running for a week was torture. Well, I didn't not run, I ran and suffered and ran a lot, lot less.
After my injury at the BUS 6 hour, I moped a lot. Instead of heading up to Bear Mountain, my boyfriend and I ate brunch, did home improvements, and I ended up soaking in Epsom salts and stretching and writing while he ran. I was jealous, even though it was raining.
And I listened to Ray K's advice: "Just shuffle. It'll help with the healing process." So I ran 8 minutes Monday, 20 minutes Tuesday, 29 minutes Wednesday, 41 minutes Thursday. Still pain. The shuffle wasn't helping.
Duh. What was I waiting for? I walked over to the new physical therapy that opened around the block from my place and immediately began working with a physical therapist. The usual - electrostim, stretching, heat, ice, massage, ultrasound. I went in again the next morning and he massaged the hell out of my leg. Ow.
But you know what?
Come Saturday, I ran/hiked (albeit slow) 4hours18minutes at Bear. And Sunday, I ran about 3 hours on trails in Connecticut (though I was in a strange mood and kept hiding behind trees, and poor Wayne told me I'm a bad hider, just before he made me cross some raging rapids). No pain. I ran with a bandage, ran slowly, iced after, stretched, but you know what? It worked. Medicine does, sometimes.
I feel good. I swam (well, didn't drown is a more accurate description for what I do in a pool) yesterday, swam and went on the elliptical and ran this morning, and I'm going to run easy again this afternoon. I have the KS tape on my leg and I feel happy. I feel back to normal.
And you know what? Sometimes, normal is a good place to be!