Thank you for indulging me in my whine-fest yesterday. Well, most of you. The pity party is now over. Of all the advice and suggestions left in the comments, my favorite was offered up by Blyfinn. I’ve got the butter knife, but no black squirrel. Would a pigeon do? Or, failing that, one of the little kiddies from the school across the street? I’m sure their parents won’t mind.
I went for a short three miler last night. The weather was decent and I was feeling fine if a bit winded during the first half. Then I felt it. Shin splints. Crap. This is the second time in two weeks I’ve had them on a run. Both times I was trying to push the pace so I just pulled back a bit. Nada. They were still there for the rest of the run. I haven’t had shin splints since I first started running. I’ve either lost a hell of a lot of fitness in the past few weeks or my apathy from last summer is now coming back to bite me in the ass. Or the shins so to speak.
When I was in the states last summer, I went to the local sports store to purchase another pair of shoes before I flew back here. In typical Xenia fashion, I waited until the day before I was leaving to go on this shopping excursion. I ended up getting another pair of Asics and some pretty insightful advice from a girl barely into puberty. Because of her young age, I didn’t really take her seriously at first, but then I realized she actually knew what the hell she was talking about so I set aside my preconceptions and listened to her.
She told me that my overpronation was a bit more than I had previously thought and that I should get some supportive inserts for my shoes. She told me of a local store that sold a particular brand that would be very good for me, but since I was leaving early the next day I knew I wouldn’t get them. So I proceeded to forget everything she told me and then neglected to look for any insoles once I flew back across the Atlantic.
Well, now I’m pretty sure I’m paying for it. More than ever now, I notice how much I overpronate and it’s beginning to bother me, both physically and mentally. And this is not just in my running shoes. I feel it while wearing my every day no-heels shoes too. Bleh.
Fingers crossed I have a little time today to stop by the local running store before I head on over to the train station in the afternoon. Hopefully I can get some decent advice about where to get some inserts for my poor feetsies. Maybe even for my regular footwear too. It definitely can’t hurt any.
So I’ll be running my races (yes, plural!) this weekend sans proper arch support. I’m really hoping the shin splints won’t be a problem on Sunday, but considering their pattern so far, I should probably bet on them making an appearance. My hopes for these races have definitely been lowered. No time goals, no PRs. Just finish, preferably not limping.
Besides destroying my arches on Sunday, I’ll be touring the Welsh countryside in a rental car on Saturday with my buddy Theresa. I’m the driver, peeps, so everyone best stay off the roads since I haven’t driven over here in years. Which side should I be on again?
Then after the races on Sunday I have to endure a two hour train ride home in my own sweaty stank. I’m sure it will impress my fellow passengers. Hopefully none of them gets off on it and Razzdoodles himself.
On a side note, isn’t Razzdoodle a great word? It’s like the new smurfy. I’m going to use it whenever possible in whatever context I feel like. It’s that versatile.
That girl just razzdoodled the pole. And did you see the razzdoodlerific guy over there? He totally razzdoodled himself watching her.
It’s just plain awesome.
All right folks, I hope you have a very razzdoodlerific weekend. Or not. Whatever floats your boat.