Back in September, I was feeling pretty fit. It was nice, having spent the beginning of the year very much not feeling like that.
It had been a good summer for adventures. Back in the groove of weekly long runs, fastpacking the Snowdonia Slate Trail, a week in the Alps with my Dad, a 60km ultra with Isaac in Peak District.
I was just at that point of it all feeling really fun again. So much more than preparing for any particular race or event (although sometimes it comes as a result of that), I’m just obsessed with that feeling of: if someone asked me to go somewhere fun and run 30 miles tomorrow, I could do it and it wouldn’t be too hideous. I love that feeling. During those periods running feels like the best part of every week and it’s all I want to spend my weekends doing.
Except, it’s very easy to get cocky during those periods. High on the potential. Lusting after constant adventures.
And very, very easy to forget that you’ve skipped the gym for a year straight and it’s probably all going to come crumbling down very soon.
Which, alas, it did.
One week after the Peak District ultra, in mid-September, a sore hip had me sidelined for the next two months. “Weak glutes,” said the physio. Of course he did - is it ever anything other than weak glutes? And, shock, the past few months of a drastically reduced step count has ended up with me feeling pretty rubbish. Turns out running is good for you, after all.
After lots of rest, rejoining the gym and reluctantly doing all the things I should be doing all the time, and a fair amount of moaning, I’ve finally been able to slowly get back to it over the past few weeks. Just a few miles here and there. Slow, short, nothing particularly exciting. It’s felt equal parts amazing to get outside and get a bit sweaty, and disheartening to see how much your ability drops off in a short space of time.
Let’s just say I definitely couldn’t run 30 miles tomorrow if you asked me to. So, for the love of god, please nobody issue any spontaneous invitations to do something fun. I beg you.
I ran four times last week though and no grumbling at all from the sore hip, so I’m taking that as a good sign things are moving in the right direction. I thought I could share a little diary of how that week of running looked. I know I’m guilty of sharing all the big, exciting stuff when, more often, things are very, very low-key.