Last Friday, near the end of the second "step back" week sandwiched between tough weeks of 55 and 56 miles, I did something really stupid.
It was the end of the work week, I was itching to get out, and I had to pee really badly, when one of the managers asked me to move a big box of copy paper.
I could have told her to wait until I went to the bathroom first and then moved the paper a few reams at a time.
Instead, in my haste to pee and get the hell out of there, I hefted the giant, heavy box and moved it to its designated spot. I hit the restroom, split and went home.
By the time I went to bed that night, my back was hurting, and when I woke up, it was aching. Somehow, I ran 13 miles (thank goodness it was not 20!) with my back in agony. And, like a fool, instead of taking my optional rest day on Sunday, I began my final week of heavy training with a aching five-miler.
There is something to be said for "active recovery" though. I feel like the strength in my body that I have built up from running so many miles has been a help in healing. Monday's 10-miler was uncomfortable and, even though I ran at a 7:30 pace, I could tell I was getting better.
Tuesday's easy five-miler was at a 7:10 pace and still a bit bothersome, but I have every bit of confidence that I can train through this as I round out this highest-mileage week and head into the taper of the home stretch.
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