My right knee niggled all through my run this morning. Normally, once warmed up, there's no pain till I stop. Today though, it hurt until I'd run 6km. Ironically, the left knee didn't hurt at all, and it was always the one that gave me trouble before all this marathon training. The pain eased for a kilometer, then I got the weirdest pain in my right thigh as I was running downhill. It was sharp and felt almost as if I'd hit a funny bone in my thigh. It happened a couple of times and, for the first time in my training, I had to walk for a minute or two to get rid of it. It was so out of the blue that I nearly cried. Not from the pain, but from the possibility that it might stop me running. That was odd, given that I'd spent a fair proportion of the run talking myself into continuing!
I started a timid run for the last kilometer, and got home okay. The problem now is that the back of my right knee is really sore. It's never felt like that before. So I'm worried about it. I took some ibuprofen and looked up some other applications of K T tape, which I've tried out. Now all I have to do is rest it tomorrow, and hope I can run sixteen miles on Saturday morning.
It's amazing that I even care that this could stop me running. I was just thinking this morning that I actually don't enjoy running at the moment. I feel as if I'm obliged to run. All the training mileage is making me feel fed up. Yet I don't like the idea that the choice would be taken out of my hands. Or do I? Imagine I could get out of the marathon, and I'd no choice. Wouldn't that be great? No. I've nearly got to the end of week ten. Imagine wasting that. I'd always regret that. There's no point in denying that. I'd hate it. So here's hoping I can head this bad knee off at the pass.
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