In Greek mythology it is said that Achilles' mother, Thetis, dipped him in the river Styx as a child thus making him invincible, with the exception of the back of his heel by which she lowered him into the water. Guided by Apollo, Paris (in retribution for Achilles victories on the battlefield) aimed a poisoned arrow for Achilles' heel and killed him. Despite Achilles' having survived countless conflicts it was this one tiny vulnerable spot which bought down the mighty warrior. Hence we use the term Achilles Heel when referencing vulnerabilities - "my Achilles Heel is chocolate," for example. And
anatomically, the tendon that connects our calf muscle to our heel bone bears Achilles' name.
Runners are not so different from Achilles. We train hard, we play hard, and we like to think we are invincible - though we are far from it. We all have our vulnerabilities and often it is the tiniest, and least expected, thing which can bring us down. I learned that lesson the hard way as of late thanks to my - you guessed it - Achilles tendon.
I was towards the end of my eleven mile long run two weekends ago when suddenly I felt a slight pain along the "spine" of my left Achilles tendon. Having never felt pain while running (beside the standard and expected pang of tired legs or the mental pain of knowing how many miles remain), I attempted to run it off. I made it through the last few miles but it was not easy. Returning home I took some advil, iced the area, and made the mistake of
googling "runner achilles pain." Turns out Achilles pain and injuries are one of the top three runner ailments and while descriptions and diagnoses varied from article to article, the common takeaway was that you should stop running immediately if you experience Achilles pain.
Ummm, so you mean running that last three miles uphill wasn't a smart idea?
Ooops.
None-the-less, the pain disappeared as soon as I stopped running and I didn't feel even a hint of pain while walking the rest of that day, or on my Sunday rest day. Figuring this was a sign that the pain had been a mere irritation versus an injury, I embarked on my five mile Monday run with baited breath. The first three miles felt great and it seemed I may be in the clear. After pausing at a stoplight and starting up again, my hopes were dashed. There was the pain again - at first a slight whisper before quickly intensifying into a throbbing shout. And while I desperately wanted to pretend I could run it off, I knew better than to force it. Slowing to a walk, I gingerly made my way through the last two miles back to my office, twice attempting to run again before returning to a screeching halt due to the immediate pain.
Knowing I will be
marathon training through Boston's brutal winter, I have been envisioning all the things that might bring me down in the months to come while attempting to strategize preventative solutions. Black Ice (sneaker treads). The flu (got my shot!). Two cats snuggling on my chest and making it hard to get up at 6:00am on a Saturday (yeah...I've got nothing for this one yet). But a little pain in the back of my heel? COME ON.
I took the next few days off.
Which was hard.
No, really...stop laughing...it was actually hard to rest!
Because despite the amount of times I may grumble about it, I truly and honestly love running. It clears my head, revs my energy, and floods me with those oh-so-wonderful happy endorphins. No happy endorphins = Cranky sluggish Erin.
Finally after a week of rest and some new sneakers, I headed back out on the Charles last week and since then, have logged some of my best runs yet. Pain free. Go figure.
Sometimes what seems like a setback is really just life forcing you to stop, take a breath, and prepare to surge forward.You have to look at the bigger picture and not just the moment at hand. Did I feel frustrated that I lost miles and training time as
my first half-marathon quickly approaches next weekend? Yes. But did I learn a valuable lesson about taking care of myself and preventing an injury that could have sidelined me much longer or even permanently? Also yes.
I have been dwelling upon this during the ample time my
enjoyable atrocious commute offers me. Historically, I would have just ignored the pain and kept running. And historically, that would have led to a severe injury forcing me to take off much, much more time from training, and which would eventually lead me to abandon running all together for a year. Or five. Oh yeah, I suppose I should briefly mention that time in L.A. when I basically broke my ankle mid-hike but insisted on hiking down the mountain, and then refused to seek medical attention due to my stubborn nature and lack of health insurance at the time. Bad decision making at its finest. But we live and we learn, or so they say - yes?
And yet, so often we really don't learn. It took me another run before I listened to that little voice in my head telling me to stop and take care of the pain. And honestly, had I not been scared by all those articles mentioning chronic achilles injuries that could prevent me from training for or running the marathon, I probably would have kept going. Despite having learned my lesson previously (and painfully). It is just human nature and symptomatic of the age we live in. We push things until they break. We never slow down. We are always flying forward at a million miles per hour until some thing, person, or event literally forces us to stop.
As I learn more about
Dana-Farber's life saving and changing research, I am reminded even further of this. So often we discuss how to treat cancer - but a big part of it is prevention as well. Taking care of yourself is the biggest way you can prevent cancer and other diseases from affecting you in your lifetime - and yet, despite knowing this, so many of us don't.We do not eat the way we should, or get enough rest. We do not see our doctors regularly or find ways to reduce the ever compounding stress in our lives. The list goes on and on. But it is crucial that we take the time to stop take care of ourselves, before something else forces us to.
None of us are invincible - that is the stuff of myths. But by investing in your health and well being, you might just come as close to it as you can.
