As a runner, you get used to unsolicited advice and cautionary tales from non-runners, especially taking on a major effort like the Yamacraw 50 ultra marathon. This ultra runner effort only increased the frequency of feedback.
“You’ll blow your knees out.” is my personal favorite.
I always imagine someone jogging blissfully down an idyllic residential street lined on both sides with uniform maple trees. They begin waving to a friendly neighbor but then, as if both knees had each been implanted with nitroglycerin, two explosions simultaneously rip outwardly from their kneecaps. They writhe around on the street thinking back with deep regret on the words of wisdom from their non-runner friend.
“You’re gonna destroy your bone density.” is a close second.
I don’t have a good narrative for that one, other than a runner falling on a trail, breaking their leg, and then exclaiming, “Oh, my bone density!” Definitely needs development.
Then, there are always the injury-adjacent stories that start like, “I’ve never been much of a runner (don’t have the build for it), but my neighbor’s uncle is and I heard he’s got [insert vague joint injury here] from running.”
It’s All Fun & Games Until…
I never want to be cavalier about injury, but I’ve been running since 2007 and it’s done nothing but improve my health…except for one fateful lunchtime run two weeks before my attempt at becoming an ultra runner.
I strapped on the plate carrier, pressed Go on my watch, and began kicking down the narrow business park street where our studio is situated. Crossing the main road and hopping onto the sidewalk, a burning sensation began building on the outside of my right knee. With each footfall, the pain penetrated deeper into the joint.
‘What was this? Maybe it’ll go away in a mile or so.’
It did not go away. It worsened as a sickening sensation overtook my gut.
Blustery gray clouds roiled above, spitting rain intermittently as I slowed to a pitiful walk, grappling with the suffocating reality that, despite my best efforts, I was injured. The very thing I had gone to such great lengths to avoid, was looming on my horizon.
My mileage was supposed to be tapering at this point. Instead, I halted all training except stretching, foam rolling, and some upper body work in the hopes my knee would heal before Yamacraw. My heart and lungs were up for the challenge of the 33 miles of my first ultra marathon, but would my knee be ready, too?
Whistling In the Dark
You know those times when you think not looking at your bank account will magically get you through to your next paycheck? Or that not stepping on the bathroom scale will somehow keep you from gaining weight? I applied that same, willful ignorance to my knee for those two weeks prior to the race. I didn’t even attempt to test it out. I’d take it easy and let it heal as much as possible.
Going from 60 to 0 during those two weeks leading up to Yamacraw made me feel lazy and unproductive. I just hoped my training would be sufficient for the test ahead.
How’s that for a cliffhanger? Ready to find out what happens next? Catch Part III of my quest to become an ultra runner titled, Ultra Ready Or Not!
Need a quick rewind? Read Part I, Adventure Worth Training For.
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