My Achilles Heel.

Isn't it postmodern that my figurative Achilles heel is actually, well, my Achilles?

OK, so that gives me a giggle even when the pain presents itself loudly while I'm running. :)

Over the last couple of weeks I've been feeling a twinge, a soreness, when I begin my runs. After the first mile or two, it eases up and I can continue in peace. But this week the pain has taken another turn and has in fact increased throughout my mileage.

This is not good.

So, as usual, I went to my dear friend Erin for help. Erin, of the multiple marathons. Erin, the one I contact straightaway when something seems off-kilter.

Erin, who has blown my long run tomorrow all to bits. (Hi, Erin.)

She wasn't trying to be a killjoy, but she told me something I pretty much knew already: If I continue to maintain or increase my mileage without giving my tendons a rest, I'm asking for trouble. So I should rest up and ice my Achilles and decrease my mileage for a few days while I wait for recovery.

AND SO, tomorrow I will shoot for a 7-miler rather than my planned 14-miler. (In other news, it's funny that a 7-miler seems so SMALL now!) Then I will get back on the wagon next week in anticipation of my 20-miler the following weekend. I'd rather skip out on my 14-miler than be forced to miss the 20, that's for sure.

I suppose I'm due for a rest anyway. It's been a great training season so far. I just hate for it to be pushed on me like this. But I come from a family with "Forge on Ahead" stock -- I don't ever rest on my own volition. When it comes to my body, I have to be bullied into submission.

Fine. I relent. Uncle.

(But I'll STILL be up and at 'em tomorrow.)

:)