I am starting to get
used to this endless roller coaster of injury - recovery - being in great
shape - injury. That must be why my latest injury hasn't succeeded in
crushing my spirits: I know that recovery is right around the corner.
And I can run, after all. I'm not completely paralysed by my
runner's knee. I just can't run very far.
The success rate of these running sessions has been variable, of course. Take Vasastafetten, for example. A
short course over undulating terrain resulted in a 4:25 min/km pace
with accompanying nausea and thoughts that wisdom tooth extraction
without anesthesia would be painless in comparison. Yesterday's
district track meet was twice the distance and only 5 seconds/km
slower, yet felt like cuddling kittens. Go figure.
Heat 2, leading group |
Running 10000m track
can be tedious. Especially if you've managed to reset all the
settings in your Suunto so that it now only shows average speed and
altitude. Thanks, Suunto, but I don't need any altitude information
ON A FLAT TRACK. I wasted a lot of energy trying to figure out how
many laps I had left (the winner of the heat had lapped me twice at
this point and the board showed how many laps he had left). I
had no idea how far I'd run. The board teased me after the winner had
crossed the finish line. It showed I only had one lap left. Three
times.
Still, there's
something about running track that appeals to me. Maybe it's the high
I still get remembering how I crossed the finish line as part of our
school team, to win the heat in a relay competition when I was 11 –
the only time I ran track as a child. Maybe it's the atmosphere: the
speaker, the lean, taut elite runners, the starting gun, the
orange-brown tartan track. Maybe it's because there are no hills to
send my heart racing. Whatever it is, it made last night's meet a fun
experience.
Finish time just under 45 minutes. And my knee? Not a
sound.
But the hills are
calling my name. Tomorrow I may heed their call.
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