I woke up with a stabbing pain in my right side yesterday, perhaps not running-related, which I tried unsuccessfully to stretch away. I figured there were two ways to deal with it: take a rest day and gently convince it to go away, or run a hard workout and crush it.
I had raced last Sunday and would be racing again on Saturday. So there was ample reason to take a day off. But a rest day seemed like negotiating with terrorists. I opted for shock and awe. What the hell was I thinking (or simply, WTF)?
I arrived at the workout so distracted by my rib I could hardly greet my friends. I didn't know what pace to run, or even whether to run at all. But I made the most of uncertainty and gambled on the healing effects of further damage. (WTF?)
As we headed out I felt a dagger thrust every other step. But it gradually lessened, and my legs took over from my confused mind. I picked it up. Wasn't thinking at all. The stabbing ebbed a little, and the fog lifted. I was so happy I forgot to check my watch. I picked it up on the hill, heedless of pace. (WTF?)
After a while I noticed I was all alone. I usually prefer the group, but tonight I was happy just to have this brief moment of painlessness to myself. As the end came into view I could hear a group catching up behind me. I foolishly put on a kick for the last .1, despite my upcoming race (WTF?).
I had run the 10K tempo workout in exactly my current 10K race pr. WTF??
My side was still good, and my endorphin levels elevated. I stubbornly decided to run another park loop to fill out my planned 12 miles. At least it delayed the inevitable, as the screaming rib re-joined afterward on the subway. But Melissa had sushi and Advil waiting for me at home.
So anyway if I can keep from trying to kill myself in training I'll have a good season ahead.