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Off the Rails with Exploding Woman Parts

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My training has gone completely off the rails.

 It is so far away from resembling anything like the Higdon training plan I subscribed to back when I started that it is pathetic. Mostly, I blame my ankle — heretofore referred to as my painkle — for this.

Admittedly, I did complete the Chi-town Half Marathon last Sunday (yay!), with an on-target time of 2:30. 


 That was awesome! How, now, I wish my goal had only been to complete a half marathon! Heck, that’s ten miles further than I had ever run before I got this crazy marathon idea! What a sense of accomplishment! I’d be done! Instead, it’s only one mile marker on the road of a longer journey.

fat butt

Since the half marathon, I’ve done two runs at just over 3 miles each, and, yesterday, ran close to 9 miles. The problem here is that when I look over my original training plan, I was supposed to run this:

Tuesday 4 miles; Wednesday 9 miles; Thursday 5 miles; Saturday 18 miles.


See what I am talking about?

By and large, my painkle has been manageable. I mean, it is what it is. When I run, there is a low-grade but consistent burning feeling, centered on my ankle tip, that radiates upwards. Occasionally, after a while, the pain becomes more intense; this is intermittent.  Treatmentwise, I’ve had physical therapy, tried more structured insoles, done the rest-ice-compression-elevation thing, had acupuncture, and sports massage.

The only thing I haven't tried.

Of all of these, what has worked the best is the acupuncture, and lots of ibuprofen.

big titties

So, we have the painkle, and we have the undertraining. It’s pretty discouraging. And the marathon is only five weeks away!

OH MY GOD I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF COMPLAINING ABOUT MY PAINKLE, and all of the navel gazing attached to it! Honestly, aren’t you sick of hearing about it? You can tell me. I can take it.

But, guess what? Since I committed to this training three months ago, I’ve run almost 250 miles. That’s a lot of running and it’s got to count for something.


DID YOU KNOW that prior to 1972, the longest official race distance a woman could run was 1.5 miles? That’s because women were not considered physiologically able to run longer distances. Probably because it would hurt their woman parts.

However, in 1966, crafty Roberta “Bobbi” Gibb hid in the bushes by the starting line of the Boston Marathon and joined in once the race once the gun sounded.

Roberta "Bobbi" Gibb

 As she ran, word spread that a woman was running the race and the audience waited in silent excitement, scanning the crown for her and cheering as she zoomed past. She had to run the race in nurse’s shoes

 because at that time, there were no athletic shoes made for women (thanks, Wikipedia!). She finished Boston in 3 hours, 21 minutes, 14 seconds — faster than most of the men. Too bad her ovaries fell out.

The next year, Bobbi unoffically ran Boston again, only this time she was joined by the first registered woman runner, Kathrine Switzer. Except (and here’s the big but)

Kathrine Switzer registered under the androgynous initials K.V. Switzer. When race organizer Jock Semple realized he’d been duped by a broad, he chased after her, trying to pull the race bib off of her.

 Her boyfriend, who was running with her, shoved Semple out of the way and she finished the race in about four and a half hours. Then her breasts exploded.

As for me, it is time to recalibrate my training plan. I’ve had a few weeks of half-assed training, but that was preceeded by many more weeks of good training. It’s not too late to get things back on track. I do have to make up a little bit for lost time and missed milestones, but I also have to provide ample rest time for my injury (and honestly, I do think the injury is getting better. I used to only be able to run 2-3 miles without it becoming excruciating. Yesterday, I ran about 7 miles before the discomfort started to amp up).

I’ve laid out a new plan that gets my endurance up to where it needs to be, but still allows me  two weeks of dialing down my training to rest up my legs before the big race.  Now I just have to stick to it, woman parts be damned.

Pussy in Peril!


About lakathie

Literary lezzie and amateur health and fitness dabbler.

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