Yesterday Marathon Training, Today Crutches.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been training for my very first half marathon.

I have this love/hate relationship with training. But the discipline has been good for me to notice and name a few things.

Running – I am learning to gauge speed, terrain and patterns, how healthy equipment equips one for a better run. i.e. do not use shoes that have been buried in the closet for years and are worn out.

Recovery – cooling down after a run and caring for my body requires good food, plenty of water and a shower. This time invites me to be grateful for what I have completed. Also while sweat is a friendly detox program, no friend really wants to share this intimacy with you.

Resting –days where I am not suppose to run, instead let the muscles be without strain, which seems counter-intuitive – I mean I am suppose to be running, training and some how this has become the hardest part of the training for me.

These three prongs of training go hand-in-hand. Now four weeks in, I’m becoming familiar with this training rhythm.

Then something went wrong.

I wish I knew what it was exactly, but I don’t. All I know is that, yesterday on my run, something went wildly wrong.

One minute I was trotting along (at a pretty decent pace, might I add) without any pain, and then the very next minute my ankle began to scream the worst kind of pain at me. But of course, what did I do? I did my best to silence my shouting ankle, pressing on to finish my mileage.

But once I hit my desired mile marker, I quickly realized that I could barely walk.

What?! Why could I run, but I could not walk??

I ignored the pain in the middle of the run because that is what I have so often learned to do in life – push it aside, deal with it later, maybe it will disappear.

Swallowing my pride.

Now, here I sit with a nice, fleshy, swollen ankle that properly refuses to even bare the pressure of my weight (no joke). You know the worst of it? Now I have to sit and ask for help, which pricks my pride and stirs my desires…

  • “I do not want to be needy.”
  • “Buck up and press through—don’t be a baby.”

Every ounce of the “resting” part of my training is being tested right now. Will I hear my body’s need in the presence of the whining voice of my pride? I look that pride in the face and not-too-kindly ask it to be quiet. But as it continues to whine, I realize that pride is a desire I have fed and responded to without any thought of what God might have to teach through asking for help.

“Oh God, let me listen and help me tame this demon so that it even may become an angel in my life.”

Until then, you can find me right here, icing and resting.

~ becky

6 replies
  1. Jenny Hill
    Jenny Hill says:

    Becky, Discipline is hard, isn’t it? It gives us constraints that we find ourselves wanting to push against. We have to learn how to lean into the structure it provides in order to benefit from its much needed support. I wish you a speedy recovery and I hope you enjoy your times of rest as much as your times of running. Jenny

    Reply
  2. shortsnlongsjulie
    shortsnlongsjulie says:

    Oh no, oh no!!! So sorry to hear this news, and so glad you asked for help. I am soaking in your words about taming the pride demon – so that it may become an angel in your life. Oh my. Powerful.

    Ice and rest. Ice and rest. And may recovery come quickly…

    Reply
  3. Annie
    Annie says:

    Becky, my 2 immediate responses: oh shoot, that’s got to be so frustrating and oh, cute toes! 🙂
    Thank you for sharing such honest words in the midst of this unexpected turn of events.
    I resonate with your words about pricks in pride. It’s not a comfortable feeling to have to ask for help, to be forced to wait at the same time. And just when you were finding a new rhythm in training only to be abruptly stopped. Yet you invite God and others to be with you in it. And He will and we will. Love ya Becky!

    Reply
    • Becky Patton
      Becky Patton says:

      Yes, my toes were freshly painted – thanks for noticing.
      Learning to ask for help – why is it that we enter this world with no shame connected to this basic survival need?
      How do we lose the capacity to see this as essential to life?
      I am seeing many opportunities to re-learn this basic skill that I was born knowing…but have some how lost touch with.

      Reply

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