injury #236 – Achilles.
Implying that I've had 236 injuries is a bit of an exaggeration, however I seem to have an unwelcome talent for knackering some part of my body up far too frequently. I'm sure it's the same for a lot of people who hit their chosen sport with a greater degree of enthusiasm than actual natural athletic ability (and are on the wrong side of 30). In the last few years I've spent a frustrating amount of time trying to sort out various niggles, from piriformis syndrome, to my latest complaint – Achilles tendinitis.
So why do I seem so prone to injury? Again, probably down to some commonly occurring reasons amongst recreational athletes like myself. Physiotherapists and Massage therapists alike have all winced disconcertingly at my lack of flexibility over the past few years, each time prescribing a remedial intensive stretching regime: ‘do this type of stretch, 3 times a day, hold for 30 seconds, do 15 reps, and make sure you warm-up prior to stretching, for at least eight minutes’. As much as I stand there, nodding my head, pledging unwavering obedience – the minute I’m out of there, well, the-road-to-hell and all that. Suffice to say I’ve never managed to come close to adhering to these prescriptions – thus, the continued tightening and shortening of muscles, increased tension on tendons, and consequent miss-tracking knee cap, impinged sciatic nerve etc etc.
Except this time. After some enthusiastic upping of my running volume, I started to develop some tightness in my Achilles. After a head-in-the-sand approach to this new sensation, a particularly hilly run while in Ireland for the weekend finished things off – I was now in some pain (albeit fairly mild). So I eased off the running, I stretched, I kept my foot elevated, I iced, I used NSAID’s. After a sufficient period of rest, I started running again, but things weren’t back to normal. The weeks past and still, I couldn’t shake this Achilles discomfort, that would appear almost as soon as I started running. Eventually I gave in and booked a Physio appointment, deciding to spare no expense – I splashed out on the Cloisters in Leamington Spa. Happily, the Physio there remembered me from my previous visit (and stopped short of completely chastising me for my continued lack of flexibility). ‘Achilies Tendinopathy’. It sounded bad, but while she did prescribe some stretches, she also took one look at my running shoes (Innov8 Roclite 318 GTX) and said ‘buy a new pair’.
Great. I definitely like the idea that I can instantly spend my way out of injury, although I was dubious that this was really the cause. Not one to dismiss this appealing treatment, I went straight out to my local running shop, and after some gait analysis to confirm I’m still a neutral pronator (a good thing) I shot straight for the most expensive pair of running shoes they had – the impressively titled Asics Gel Nimbus 12.
Keen to validate my purchase, I went straight out for a run. I wasn’t disappointed. The contrast between the feel of these trainers, compared to my old Innov8 trail running shoes (yes I know – these are probably designed for off-road and perhaps not suitable) was unbelievable. It made the Innov8 shoes feel like clogs crafted from solid oak. I hit 20 miles in the following days, with no further Achilles issues. I couldn’t believe it.
So I’m trying to proceed with caution, but this new pair of runners have given me dangerous levels of confidence, and I really want to get in some distance runs before the Ironman this month – so I’m hoping the Asics will protect me from my own over-enthusiasm. Fingers crossed eh?
Belvoir Wash-out
In my build-up to Ironman France, I was keen to get at least one Half Ironman (or Middle Distance) race under my belt prior to lining up at the start in Nice. I knew I could do the distance (usually around 70.3 mi), but it's the added experience, and confidence you actually get from doing it all in a race setting, from the preparation, travel to the venue, setting out your transition and learning from the inevitable mistakes you make in all those areas.
Luckily, there are no shortage of Middle Distance triathlons in May / June in the UK. Originally Myself, Rob and Alex opted for the Swashbuckler, but due to some procrastination on our part, only Alex managed to get his entry in on time. Having missed the boat for the Swashbuckler, we opted for the Beaver Middle Distance Triathlon, organised by Just Racing UK and based out of the grounds of Belvior castle near Grantham.
My training up to the week before the race had been fairly consistent (for someone who really struggles with consistency). I'd saddled myself with an Achilles injury, which had really limited my running, and seemed to be yet another injury to add to my list - but this wasn't even to play a part in the days racing. On the Tuesday before the race, I awoke to some definite signs of stomach issues to come, and sure enough, before I knew it, I was seeing far more of the bathroom than I’d have hoped.
So without going into detail, my ‘stomach issues’ left me pretty wiped out for the rest of the week, with training (or anything much more strenuous than staring at the TV) out of the question.
Deferring, any decision about whether I would / wouldn’t attempt the Beaver, to the very last minute, I packed up all my race kit last thing on the Friday (with guts still complaining) and headed over to Belvoir on a particularly inclement Saturday morning. Just Racing had come up with an unusually civilised start time for the race (midday), giving me more time to uhm and ahr over the ‘right thing to do’.
I’ve read plenty of advice about not training / racing when you’re Ill, and how it can prolong recovery time, and in worse cases, actually make you more sick. With this sort of advice spinning around in my head, I had a real lack of mental preparation, or even appetite for the race and so resolved to just do the swim – and see how things went.
Just laying out my kit in transition was probably a worthwhile practice – going through all those pre-race rituals, and trying to remember what works best for you: where to put your helmet, where to position shoes and nutrition etc. I finally got myself down to the swim start (after forgetting my timing chip!) and jumped in to join the fray.
I took the swim leg pretty easy, and it really didn’t present any problems (other than the water it - it was incredibly silted – something like swimming though gritty hot chocolate, but not quite as good to drink). I knocked off the swim leg, and ran the 400 grassy meters back to transition.
It’s at this point, whilst standing in the incessant rain, that I decided I’d call it a day. I figured If I started the bike, I’d be unlikely to skip the run – and would probably suffer for it afterwards, given that I didn’t feel 100% better (either that, or the wet, cold conditions ‘talked’ me out of it). Whatever the reason behind throwing the towel in at this point – I wasn’t mentally ready for the race and that was that. I looked around at the other athletes, going through transition with complete focus, unfazed by the conditions and felt some envy. Without dwelling on my decision for too much longer, I packed up my stuff and headed off.
It’s the first time I’ve ever quit during a triathlon, and wasn’t a particularly good feeling. That being said – I guess you have to accept that chances are you’re not always going to be on top (or even the right kind of) form – and sometimes it’s not worth risking further setbacks for the sake of things like practice races. Now I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the big day in Nice. Interestingly enough, I came across Peter Lissens account of his fairly dramatic DNF at Ironman Lanzarote. It puts my experience into perspective: I wouldn’t have gone near the start line feeling like that.
As far as the Beaver Middle Distance triathlon goes, I can't really comment about about how well run the actual event was, but both Rob and Loz completed the race, and thoroughly enjoyed it, despite the weather, so I guess it can’t be too bad. Perhaps next year eh?
