You may have noticed that I haven’t written in a while. To be honest, it’s been a rough summer of training and I was just plain overwhelmed and focused on getting through one day at a time. (Warning: what you’re about to read might get a bit graphic)
While most of my runs went according to plan (MOST), not all things were going to plan.
In June, almost at the beginning of the training cycle, I had horrible stomach cramps and diarrhea. Not while running, although that happened too, but through the day and the night. At first, I thought I had food poisoning (which would be an insult to my cooking, but there seemed to be no explanation). It got to be so painful, that work sent me home to go to urgent care. There, I had many stool samples taken and they all came back negative.
Food elimination seemed like a logical next step (even though NOTHING in my diet had changed). When no progress seemed to be happening and I couldn’t get enough nutrients to feel fueled for my runs, I went to a gastroenterologist. He recommended bloodwork and a colonoscopy (after what I had been through, the prep was a breeze!!) so they could take some samples for biopsy. The doc also gave me “super Imodium” so i could hopefully make it through more runs outside and not be tethered to a treadmill. All tests came back negative.
If that wasn’t enough excitement, my meniscus tear in my knee flared up again. Talk about painful!!!
But wait! There’s more!!
The Tuesday before my marathon, I had an amazing 5.5mile workout and was doing a 1 mile cool down when I tripped on my shoelace and fell. I fell hard. My elbows and knee (the bad one) were greatly bruised and bloodied. The next day I woke up and my back hurt, we’re talking sharp pain when i attempted to move my head and neck. I must have jarred it in my fall.
REALLY?! RACE WEEK?!?!
I did so much rehabbing the week before the race, stretching, massage, foam rolling, creams and potions, until I felt as though I had a prayer of running a somewhat decent race.
By Saturday, there was hope….