I headed to our local running store to meet up with the long distance training group. There wasn't a speaker, but the group run was still a go.
I arrived on scene about 45 minutes early. My PT has asked me to start putting more walking miles on the new orthotics in my shoes. So my plan was to walk a couple miles, then switch back to my old inserts and join the group for the run.
At just over a mile, I turned my walk around and headed back to the car. I noticed then that my legs were getting sore. Right in the "problem area." About halfway back to my car I was nearly in tears and contemplating going barefoot.
I wasn't running, I was just walking. I was doing exactly as I was supposed to...and it was making things worse.
I got back to my car, and switched inserts in my shoes. I then took 15 minutes to do some serious hail mary stretching.
The group gathered, and off we went.
I made it about a mile...then against every fiber of my being...I quit.
I never quit.
I took my disobedient....unruly....crap-tastic legs back to my car. I hobbled like a 95 year old arthritic woman.
Then, my phone rang.
It was one of my dearest friends, Rachel. She's coming into town with her family this coming weekend to run in a 5K (Mot is also entered in this), while her hubby runs the half (the run I'm hoping to attempt).
We discussed when they'd arrive, we discussed that they'd stay with us, we discussed the pasta dinner Mot is going to cook us. :-)
We talked running, and we talked about my injury. She told me that most people would have quit long ago, were they to face the same issues, for such an extended period of time.
She will never, EVER, understand how much that meant to me. How her words, though simple, came at the time I needed them most.
Aren't friends just the best things in the world! They don't even have to try or work at it....it just comes when it's needed.
She's right, of course! I'm not a quitter. And I'm not like most people.
I went home, iced my legs, and knew that I'd be out there running again.