Since I haven't been in formal school or formal English class in years, pardon me if I mistakenly call the heading of this post by the wrong phrase. My synonym should be obvious to pick up on. Obviously I'm not angry at my baseball mitt, I am angry period. I suppose frustrated more than anything.
Although I had a wonderful 3 miler on Saturday, I may have tried to get back to normal too fast and with my 3 miler Sunday I experienced the same "twinges" early on in the run and then throughout. My foot has been teetering on the brink of going back to square one for days. Although today is a good day, I am not getting too excited. I have now planned on being off of running until Sunday and once again on the shelf. I'm even afraid to run on Sunday for fear that I'll have those twinges again and then time starts becoming a factor.
With just over 13 weeks until Philadelphia, I am not to the critical stage yet, but with each passing day I fall further behind. Not only because I am not running, but I am losing the ground gained over the summer. I no longer feel as if I'll never be able to run again (even though it feels that way sometimes), but with the 12 week window coming up this Sunday, I am dangerously close to a decision I don't want to have to make.
I take comfort in the fact that my best marathon (not time-wise) was Baltimore, and I only had 11 weeks to prepare for it. In; as irony would have it, 11 more days, I'll be sitting at 11 weeks until Philadelphia. A challenge? Sure. But at what point does reality and being smart about it kick in and I have to think of possibly dropping back to the half or not going at all? I'm very close to going white car on someone (see 5 posts ago).
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