Last Wednesday, I ran in the rain – not a soft, gently rain but a miserable, late winter one. Earlier in the day, it snowed – enough to notice but not enough to plow. The rain hit in the late afternoon and, by evening, the streets had become streams of wet, slushy water. There were many, many times that I put my foot down, only to submerse it ankle-deep in water.
By the time I got home, my shoes (and the rest of me) were soaked and easily weighed another two pounds. But I felt exhilarated; I had come face to face with Mother Nature once again and felt that I won.
The next night, I ran in the same still-wet shoes and, by the time I got home, the top of my left foot was tender.
Here I am, a week later, with my foot still bothering me. Only yesterday, during my 8 mile tempo run, I realized what I did to it. While running on sloppy roads that I really could not see, I landed on a metal grate the wrong way. At the time, I noticed it but it didn’t hurt enough to stop. Yesterday, while turning onto that same street, I suddenly remembered hitting that grate.
My foot is not discoloured; it’s not strained; it’s just sore. Can I still run? Yes. Am I worried? Just a little. But it’s amazing how good plunging your foot into a bowl of ice water can feel.
But this isn’t really an injury. It’s just Mother Nature reminding me that some days I need to take her seriously.