Impossible Is Nothing - Part 3 - Setback & Redemption by Christopher Setterlund
Part 1 of 2: Injuries and Irish Pub Road Race
The first time that I have run 2 races in the same week stemmed from a search inside myself for redemption. To get to the end I have to start at the beginning and my return to running form following a pair of nagging injuries.
I had said that there was a real possibility that my race in Gloucester at the end of June could have been my final one as the pain in both my left knee and right Achilles tendon had become so prevalent that it was starting to cause me pain when I walked let alone ran. Coming out of that race I was blessed that I had not aggravated either injury and took a hiatus from running as I let them heal. It was a long and frustrating recess from my new found passion as I had to settle for cross training on the elliptical machines at the gym rather than doing what I truly wanted. I bought gel heel cups, 2 knee braces, and an ankle brace all in the hopes of speeding up the healing process. Nothing seemed to help until I came up with an idea to sort of cheat my way back.
The ‘cheating’ I did was a way to satisfy my urge to run with as little damage as possible. It consisted of a slow burn on the treadmill where I walked for a few minutes, then minute by minute slowly increased the speed until I was running but my legs had been totally warmed up. It would take 25 minutes but I was able to get the treadmill up to 7.0-7.1 mph which was good enough speed for a run. For these runs it was not so much about times and speeds but more of being able to complete the run without increasing my pain. Day after day I gradually increased both the time and speed until I was almost back to where I wanted to be. It was at this time that I started looking for another race to get me back in the game.
I chose the Irish Pub Road Race in Harwich mostly due to my friendship with one of their bartenders, Rob Blake, who also had been working with me at the Marshside for a few years. He had wanted me to run the 5.2 mile race so I signed up. I felt all right about the race despite only having a few weeks of real running leading up to it. This was all treadmill running also as I had become afraid of running outside for fear that if I got re-injured I would have to walk possibly several miles to get home and that was not a risk I was willing to take.
I should have known things weren’t right when I could not get to sleep the night before the race. Therefore I had trouble waking up in the morning as well. I did not eat badly I thought, rice cakes and yogurt seemed okay, but once I got to the race I was unable to get focused and motivated like I wanted to. At the starting line it was a mess, when the gun went off everybody mashed together. Not wanting to lose valuable time I dashed around to the outside to get away from the crowd which was my biggest mistake.
My Uncle Steve always says to start slow and build up so you don’t get gassed during the race, well that is exactly what happened. About 3 miles in I felt it coming, it was a feeling like someone yanked my power cord out of the wall. The humidity along with my quick pace caught up with me. I took a few steps and dropped down to one knee totally out of it. It was there that I thought about giving up, tired and by myself on the road I thought that maybe I should just throw in the towel and forget about it. Being about halfway through the race I would have to walk back either way and did not want to disgrace myself by doing that so I manned up and kept going. After that it did not get much better. I inhaled a large bug which was delicious, and my squeezable carb gel ended up giving me major stomach cramps. The race could not get over quickly enough. My goal had been 5.2 miles in 40 minutes, after all of my problems during the running I finished in 42. It looks good but I was in rough shape and very unhappy with myself.
I refused food and drink at first and simply went and sat by myself in my car, resting my pounding head on my steering wheel. The next race I had on my schedule was a half marathon Oct. 2nd and this epic fail at the Irish Pub was going to be tough to deal with for eight week until I could race again. I stuck around and shared a beer with my old high school friend James Welsh who had also become a runner, that made me feel better as I left but soon the doubts about myself resurfaced. There was only one way to try to erase them and that was to run another race as soon as possible...
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