Until recent events the letters “AT” were of very little harm to my existence, all that has changed.

In high school we learned about adenine and thymine (AT) or adenosine triphosphate (ATP) or atmospheric pressure (ATP) or just the bloody word “at”. All that changed with the phrase Achilles Tendonitis was uttered to me in my query about a recent pain. I was stunned, rendered speechless possessing all signs of being rendered catatonic. I devised a plan, a poor plan but a plan nonetheless to wit I am sidelined for the next 3-4 weeks. With two ultra’s coming up this winter, this proves most in-opportunistic.

The injury came, not from my traditional lunch time run or weekend stroll, but from a remarkably idiotic decision I made to endure a 2000m track workout in a brand new pair of 0mm drop minimal crossfit shoes! I remember finishing the workout and the remainder of the day I had an uncomfortable ache in my lower calf region. Writing it off as a normal soreness of a very fast run I went out the next morning as scheduled for a 10 miler enduring excruciating pain for about 1 mile and then no pain at all. It happened all too quickly, I didn’t have time to prepare. I tried to run through the pain on 3 more occasions but it consistently became worse. I opted to visit a Physical Therapist and running buddy and the coarse shrill words of  immanent defeat were breathed so effortlessly, as though it had no bearing on her soul to rip mine to bits.

It’s been 2 weeks since my last run and things are going all that well. I have fell in to a rut, which apparently is not as good as a groove despite their striking resemblance to one another. However I am inclined to escape, in fact, I am hell bent on escaping and at all cost. I commit to the readers of this post and most assuredly to myself to escape this psychological blunder and return to my previously scheduled existence as a runner and athlete.