I've mentioned before about the problems I had with my pelvis following my pregnancy with E. Chronic pain is vile. The pain I had was vile. The situation was vile. Having my husband help me dress each day was soul destroying. Him getting into a bit of bother at work because he had to take time off to look after me was a low, low point. So, when I get a hint of the pain coming back it scares me.
My lower back and hip has been feeling a bit stiff for a couple of weeks. Then my right arm started going a bit numb so off I went to the osteopath. I had forgotten that I can be a bit sore after a good cracking session; by the time I got to the osteopath appointment my hip was nudging towards being painful and once he'd released off what he could (the surrounding muscles were very tight making manipulation tricky) I was left feeling a bit battered. A day of shopping with my gorgeous friend took my mind off it, but the twinges going up my spine while I was standing still were a cruel reminder that it was still there.
Thinking I could do with stretching my legs, I headed out on my usual 5k route the following morning. I know this route well now. I know where I can hold back a bit and where I can easily pick up the pace to make up for it. Despite running at a decent pace it felt tough. It was like running through treacle and the pain was bothering me. My right leg felt heavy and as if I was carrying it. I also discovered that it isn't easy to run and cry at the same time... I got home, sat down on the decking in the back garden and sobbed.
I spent the rest of the day with family, and tried to ignore both the niggling feeling of doubt and the pain which accompanied it like a misplaced triangle in an orchestra. The Boss messaged me later that evening asking how I was. I had been to see him after going to the osteopath, and he seemed to get a good sense of how worried I was. He'd shown me some extra hamstring and piriformis stretches to add in to my usual routine, and told me many times that I would be OK. I wish I shared his optimism at times like this! It feels like his hopes for me to run a 10k in 57 minutes or under are a serious misjudgement and the only way I am heading is towards failure.
I've spent the following few days in a maudlin mood. The fear of the pain compounded by the start of a new school term and the worries this brings for E, meant that I've been a bit tearful and probably a pain in the arse to live with, as well as having my own pain in the arse! The Boss has once again been incredibly supportive, and I have a mixed sense of guilt at bothering him so much, but also a deep sense of gratitude for his expert guidance. My husband has given me a balance of love and 'pull yourself together'. All of these people make me a lucky girl.
The week has been spent 'resting' my leg. In my world, that just means I haven't been out for a run. The return of school has given me a chance to walk 4 miles each day, plus the usual housework and chasing around a very cheeky 2 year old! Emotionally I have battered myself, and left myself feeling exhausted. With this exhaustion comes doubt, and with these two together I only feel like hiding away from the world.
This evening I had to get out. Come what may I had to run. I like to be organised and prepared, and with the next 10k race just 2 days away, I had to run to see how I will approach the race. Running kit on, and leaving the husband in charge of the girls and cooking the dinner (a risky combination!) I headed out. No expectations, just to stretch my legs. I promised myself that if I was working too hard to sing along to my music, then I was going too fast and that I would hang back. This worked well for first mile. In the second mile, my GP was driving out of the surgery and paused to allow me to cross. With a wave of thank you, my pace picked up a bit. Seeing him indicating to turn the way I was running prevented me from slowing down. Working a bit harder now, but not pushing myself. The third mile was alongside the park. Ah, there goes my plan out of the window and now I'm really testing the legs out and off I launch into a 8.30 minute mile. Ooops.
This is where I have fibbed to you, dear readers, but only a little. I do not have lucky pants. But, BUT, I do have a lucky running vest. It just didn't sound as entertaining in the title...
My Great Ormond Street vest spurs me on. It is a lovely purple, and it reminds me of every reason why I am doing this challenge. My week has been tough. I've had a niggling pain, which - touch wood - seems to be OK. My vest reminds me that I am in a privileged position to be able to get out and run. Many of the children in Great Ormond Street would love to get outside and play. To run with their friends, to chase them and play football. Or to fly down a zip wire in the play park. They don't have the choices I do, and I really hope that some of the money that I raise will go towards simple FUN.
https://www.justgiving.com/Vicki-Slaughter/
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