Month: Feb 2021

Running Safely

There is a sense in which every decision we make about our running comes back to safety: kit that looks after our bodies; routes that we feel confident to complete; pacing and fuelling to avoid injury; choosing times of day and running partners that make us feel secure. The area we focus on might change given our circumstances at the time, but it boils down to the same basic question – what do I need to do to enjoy my run and stay safe?

Foremost in my mind at the moment is injury prevention. I’m still very much in the recovery phase having injured my leg in the autumn, which means that all my routes have to be carefully chosen to steadily increase strength and fitness without overly stressing my leg and sending me backwards again (I’ve come close to that once, and once was enough). Warming up, cooling down and stretching are more important than ever, habits which I hope will stay with me and set me in good stead for the future.

My other new habit is fuelling fully, and thinking about what I eat before and after a run. I’ve realised that as my runs get longer again the amount of calories I need is significantly higher than I was consuming pre-injury. Having learnt the hard way that lack of proper fuelling is a huge safety concern in its own right, I’m monitoring myself much more closely now to make sure there is no repeat of that mistake.

So these are my basics at the moment, with a very clear focus on injury recovery and prevention. Next on my list are kit choices and decisions about when I run. Kit feels like the easy one: is it raining or not? how cold is it? I know that this will become more of an issue as my runs get longer again and I start taking my pack back out, so for the moment I’m just going to enjoy the ease of it!

Timing of a run is when it starts to get more complicated. There are a fair number of personal decisions here based around how my body functions at different times of day and how long I need to leave it between eating and running, but there is also a great deal that is out of my control. Family life, especially now in lockdown, is a significant part of this, but one that frustrates me is the short sunlight hours through the winter. I don’t think of myself as a nervous runner, but I am not at all comfortable running in the dark on my own in the city. Being unable to run with others through the darkest time of the year had an enormous impact on when I could fit in my runs, leaving me asking some very serious questions about how I address the final aspect of safety considerations, and one which is entirely outside my control – other people, and the risk they can pose.

In terms of running in the dark, there are of course some simple things I can do to keep myself safe, such as high-vis clothing, reflective strips, a headtorch. Kit that keeps me visible helps reduce the risk of avoidable accidents with cyclists, drivers or other runners and pedestrians. But this isn’t really what I’m scared of. The fear that lurks in the back of my mind is of the bogeyman used to frighten all women across the centuries, the unknown stranger who leaps out of the dark and attacks. I have no direct experience that should stoke that fear, but you don’t have to look hard to find stories of people who think it’s acceptable to shout harassment or abuse as they pass; the (thankfully rare) reports of runners physically abused while they are out exercising; the stories of men exposing themselves in secluded spots. These events are not confined to the night time, and so the spectre of them haunts every solo run.

We live in the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. As with so much in life, running safely becomes a balancing act with sensible caution on one side and refusal to give up my freedom on the other. That balance is different for each of us, as we weigh the risks and rewards of our running choices. I can avoid certain paths that make me nervous, I can be alert at points that I think might be less secure than others, but I cannot ever ensure that a route is 100% risk free. Yet by finding my own balancing point I can keep myself getting out there. Alert and conscious of risks of any sort, but not overwhelmed and scared. That balancing point changes with time, it needs constant reflection and adaptation. It needs work. But all the best things in life need tending and looking after. Running safely is very definitely worth the work.

Recovery – A (Small) Step Backwards

I suppose it was always going to happen. Recovery is never plain sailing, and I’ve had a fairly constant upward curve for the last couple of months. But that knowledge didn’t make me any less disappointed when I found myself in pain again on Sunday night and through Monday, my leg hurting in exactly the place where we suspect the stress fracture had been.

Disappointed is obviously a huge understatement. Panicked, scared, angry, depressed might come a little closer. Nearly five months after my initial injury the thought of having to go back to anywhere near the start felt perilously close to the end of the world. What on earth do I do now?

Cardiff Bay looking as moody as I felt.

The first step was to take along hard look at the week or so leading up to this. Had I done anything new or different? Done too much, or not enough? I had to be brutally honest with myself, and acknowledge that I’d taken my eye off the ball. Like so many others out there, lockdown and homeschooling has been taking its toll, and my ability to focus on my recovery had definitely reduced. While still conscious of what I’m eating it had slipped from the forefront of my mind, as had properly stretching out enough when coming home from a run and walking in to demands for food and attention. By Sunday I’d hit a low of exhaustion, but my head really needed a run, so I decided to ignore what my body was telling me and just get out there.

I suspect that was the key bad decision, and gave me the most important lesson to take away from this. Always, always listen to your body. Running might be the best thing for my mental health, but there are other options (honest!). When my energy levels are that low pushing myself out of the door is a very real risk, especially at the moment when my body is still in recovery mode.

Step two was to get straight on the phone to Pete the physio, who got me in two days later to check it over. I walked out a few hours ago feeling like a new person. Instead of going over and over all the worst case scenarios I now know that I haven’t properly damaged the bone again. I’ve had a warning shot, and the muscles need some work, but that is easily resolved. Best of all, he’s reassured me that I’m back to the point where running is going to help, not hinder. With the very big proviso that I listen to my body – the occasional unplanned rest day is far better than another long period out of action.

My relief this evening is phenomenal. Here in Wales we’ve only been allowed to run with another person for 10 days, and I am so ready to take advantage of that and see some of my running friends again. I’ve managed one social run so far, which was the best run I’d had in a very long time. So lesson well and truly learnt: don’t push it, listen to my body and keep getting out there. I’m happily planning my next run already.