I made it one kilometer today before I had to stop running from the pain and walk slowly back to my apartment.
So discouraging. The physiotherapist’s optimism yesterday about me trying running again was infectious. I woke up this morning to clear, sunny skies and thought, maybe I can do this. Maybe a week off and all that icing and massaging has worked and I’ll just do a nice, slow 5 km run.
Nope. Definitely not. (And 5km?!? Laughably ambitious of me. Right now that’s seeming like an endless stretch of hell. How did I run 28 km just 12 days ago? That’s what makes me so sad, that just prior to pulling my groin I was feeling on top of the world after a few terrific runs, long distances and good times. Pride before the fall and all that, I guess.)
I’m trying not to panic or cry but it’s really, really hard.