The Quest Continued 2

Once I had sprained my ankle I began a routine that was all to familiar, and dreaded by every athlete: RICE. Rest, ice, compression, elevation. Four of my least favorite words. I knew the ankle sprain meant I wouldn't be able to participate in the race, or at least, that my ability to race would be severly impaired. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to at least try to run. I had already paid my $100 fee, and trained so much. It seemed a shame not to at least start the race and experience some what it would be like to run. As I rehabbed my ankle over the next two weeks, It took the whole first week just to be able to walk at a normal speed without too much pain. My ankle and foot where deep purple and quite swollen. By the middle of the second week, I had a crazy idea: maybe I could run the race and finish. I was able to walk at a pretty quick pace with only minor discomfort; though running was much more jarring on my ankle, many people walked entire marathons. A few days before the race, I went out for my last training run, but it was more of an experiment than anything. The single lap I took around Lake Harriet was painful and slow. Not only that, but my fitness level had dropped off a bit because I hadn't been able to train for the past week and a half. I knew there was no way I was going to finish the marathon if my ankle was the same on race day.

Luckily, I had underestimated the power of adrenaline and painkillers.