This week, I was thinking of cutting back my mileage somewhat to see if that helped. Yesterday I cut my 5-mile run short because of non-running related feelings of crappiness (more to do with pizza and pop overindulgence the night before). So I decided that today I'd attempt my scheduled 7-mile run before work and see how it goes before deciding about tomorrow's 5-mile run.
Over the weekend, Keith and I had bought some extra running gear—water bottles designed to be taken with you on long runs. Keith got a "hydration waist pack" and I got a water bottle that fits to your palm and is held to your hand with a strap. I figured I might as well try it out on my 7-mile run this morning, and get used to it before my scheduled 11-mile run this coming weekend.
I gotta be honest with you: it didn't work out so well. My legs felt great. About halfway in, maybe a little further, I was still going strong. I was feeling a lot better about myself, and the training plan, and ready to tackle my long run this weekend. And then I tripped.
To be fair, it was not yet 6:30am, so it was still pretty dark out. But, to be honest, I have to admit: this isn't the first time I've tripped, and I really wasn't watching where I was going. So I bit it, hard, and couldn't catch myself ... because my fancy new water bottle was strapped tightly to my hand.
Assessing the damage afterwards, I saw that my left palm had a huge gouge out of it, and the fingers on my right hand—my pinky in particular—were already swelling up. They'd been bent back pretty far by the water bottle. Funnily enough, though, my legs felt great! I walked for a while and then started running. Because, well, I had to get home somehow.
Luckily, Keith waits for me to get home from my morning runs before he leaves for work. (And now we know why!) One quick trip to Urgent care and the grocery store later, I was home with:
- A left-hand swaddled in enough gauze to pass for a mummy
- A broken right pinky in a splint
- Coke, Halloween Oreos (my favorite!), and doughnuts