TORONTO July 2nd 2015. Digital Champion Jess Collins began running as a way to complement her strength training workouts. In 2011, she decided to challenge herself to run the Terry Fox Run (something she’d long wanted to do) as she was getting over a breakup, in order to focus her energy on a positive goal and raise money to fight cancer. She got hooked on running, and completed her first timed 10K race in March 2012. Jess’ most memorable running accomplishment was her first marathon in October 2014, at the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon. When she’s not running, you can find Jess baking (a lot!) and brewing beer! Connect with Jess on Twitter and Instagram.
Injuries: What do you do when it happens to you? By Jess Collins.
Like most runners, I’ve experienced some relatively minor injuries before (such as plantar fasciitis), but I’ve usually been back pretty soon, after some treatment. But this spring – one week before the Toronto Yonge Street 10K, and less than half an hour into what I’d hoped would be my first 25K run in several months, a twinge on the top of my foot quickly turned into a sharp pain with every step, forcing me to hail a cab home. When the pain didn’t subside, I sought out a sports medicine doctor, and a bone scan ultimately revealed a stress fracture – probably two of the most dreaded words a runner can hear, since it requires 6-12 weeks off running.
There’s no denying that being injured (especially an injury that requires you to abstain completely from running) is challenging – physically, emotionally, and socially.
Physically, I was fortunate that I was able to cycle, as long as I heeded my doctor’s orders not to put extra weight on my foot by standing on my pedals. While they kept me reasonably active, spinning workouts just didn’t give me the same satisfaction as running outdoors. Spinning became fairly dull, and my motivation waned, despite knowing it was helping keep up my fitness.
I escaped the gym with outdoor bike rides; the next best thing to spending hours outside running is spending hours outside cycling. Missing the thrill of chasing PBs in races, I unconsciously began creating new challenges. The first time I was able to cycle up the notorious Poplar Plains hill on my single-speed bike without standing up on my pedals felt like a victory (one I’d never before achieved even when not injured)!
Emotionally, I put some of the blame on myself and thought of all kinds of ways I might have avoided this (Did I stretch enough? Did I increase my mileage too quickly after my minor injury in the winter? Was I wearing the right shoes? etc). More importantly, I’ve felt shut out from an activity I love – one which helps me manage stress, and which gives me a sense of identity. If you think of yourself as a runner, as I do, who are you when you can’t run?
Socially, I also felt distanced from my friends and teammates. I train with Pace & Mind, a phenomenal group of people, many of whom I am lucky to consider good friends. Without being able to run, I missed the social interaction and support of Thursday and Sunday group workouts. My “cowbell” got a lot of use this spring as I cheered for friends and teammates. But, it was tough to repeatedly show up and be positive and enthusiastic when I desperately just wanted to run these races myself. I joined in for some get-togethers, but – although most likely my teammates didn’t feel this way! – I worried that my presence was a bummer, a reminder that they, too, could lose the ability to run.
It’s been 10 weeks of uncertainty and waiting – for an appointment with a specialist, for test results – and it was hard to envision that this time would eventually end. As the doctor-approved ‘Begin Running Again Day’ approached, I felt phantom pains and anxiety that I’d immediately re-injure myself. But I finally laced up my running shoes and ran/walked 1km. It is incredibly humbling to think that about 8 months ago, I completed a full marathon, but was elated to get through a single kilometre. Afterwards, I cried out of a mixture of joy and relief from built-up frustration and emotion.
Now that I’ve (slowly, cautiously) started running again, I’m having my running form and weaknesses professionally assessed, so I can reduce the chances of future injury. I’m trying to trust that my body has healed, and I’m working on getting mentally re-focused on training for the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon, assuming my body cooperates!
Having had a lot of time to think about it over the last 10 weeks, here’s what I’d recommend to someone else taking time off from running after an injury:
- Listen to your health care professionals’ guidance, as well as your own body. There’s no point rushing back to running if your body isn’t ready.
- Don’t punish yourself mentally for what you might have done differently, but do consider how to address the cause and avoid future injury. Focus on improving strength and flexibility so you come back as strong as possible.
- Find and set new little challenges in whatever physical activities you’re able to do, to keep yourself motivated.
- Show yourself some kindness. Accept that it’s frustrating and upsetting, and cut yourself a little slack. Treat yourself (I bought some cute, comfy sneakers to wear while recovering, but now I’ll always associate these sneakers with injury!).
- Try to find ways to enjoy the “break” from running, by spending time doing other activities you don’t always make time for during training (I immersed myself in a baking class!).
- Stay connected to running friends – they appreciate your support, and will continue to support you as your recover and return to running.
Running has been a source of ambivalence for several months – I’ve desperately wanted to run, while knowing that running itself caused much pain and frustration. But recently a friend/teammate reminded me of the sheer joy and camaraderie I’d felt after a few members of our team had run 15K worth of parking lot laps in the wee hours of the morning before the Canada Running Series’ Oasis Zoo Run last September. He told me that eventually, I was sure to feel that enthusiasm and love of running again.
It’s been a tough time without running, but the anticipation of feeling that pure joy of running soon has gotten me through this.
