Late October, I fired off a tearful email to Coach Kurt which went something along the lines of “I don’t see this Achilles thing coming around, so let’s plan on me becoming an UBER Aqua-bike racer for 2016—my running is over sniff sniff waaaaaaa”. As most of you […]
Please note how I didn’t start this post with “”…..so let me tell you about NOT RUNNING”.
Food first The other day, I discovered this nut and spice blend at Trader Joe’s. “Dukkah” or “Duqqa” is a condiment whose roots lie in Eygpt. Typically made with ground, roasted pistachios, hazelnuts […]
Last year, I ended up with Achilles tendonitis in my left leg 3 weeks before the Hawaii Ironman and as a result I couldn’t complete the run. Achilles, aka The Evil God Of Screwing Up Your Race Season (and your mental well-being), returned 5 weeks ago and once again cast its spell-this time on the right side. I’ve been off real running since the 2nd week of March. I’ve done a little pool running, a couple of elliptical sessions and most recently attempted to use a stair machine at the swanky Spectrum Health Club in Santa Barbara. Unfortunately in the latter situation, I ramped up the stair machine too high and fell off of the damn thing only 5 minutes into my workout. In the middle of the cardio area, I let out a loud string of expletives as a result of my fall. Thankfully, most of the gym-goers had their headphones in. With my proverbial tail between my legs, I slunk over to the elliptical machine and Geico’ed through 25 more minutes of cardio.
Today I tested out my running and low and behold I completed 25 minutes up and down the golf course. I stopped 3 times for about 15 seconds at a time and stretched said Achilles tendon; which seemed to really help in preventing it from seizing up. My goal was to complete eighteen minutes of running. Why eighteen? Eighteen is some magic number that, in minutes, I believe constitutes a workout. This is completely unfounded. Not “seventeen”. Seventeen doesn’t count. Has to be eighteen. Yeah, we triathletes are one big collective group of neurotic athletes. I hit the eighteen minute mark and thought “let’s make this 25”. I finished and walked up the hill to my house with no residual pain or “there-ness” of the Achilles. Hot damn, I thought, I’m an athlete again. Never mind I bike and swim regularly. And have been biking ALOT. Running is where it’s at for me, baby!