I knew, coming out of a high-mileage March, that I was likely going to have some lingering effects in April.  What I didn’t know was that the effects would be painfully felt the day after I made the previous post.

I set out for a mixed-surface run.  Nine miles on the sidewalks and bike path to Parkside, 6.2 miles around the trails, and nine miles back.  I figured it would be fun, long street miles with a fun traily center.  That’s not what happened.

The run started slow and only got slower.  I managed to catch a curb and blow my big toe right through the fabric.  My Camelbak kept rubbing on my lower back.  Everything felt heavy.  I managed to get to Parkside and do my two laps, but almost immediately upon leaving, I knew I was in trouble.  I couldn’t run.  I hobbled another mile before I did something I’ve never had to do before: Call for help.  My wonderful neighbor Kim drove up to the north side and rescued me.

Distal fourth metatarsal, left side.  Distal second and fifth metatarsals, right side.  Right lateral ankle.  Right lateral hip.  In my head, the words “STRESS FRACTURES.”  Looking ahead to my races, the words “$400 gone.”

The following Thursday, I’m at the podiatrist Joy works for.  He pokes and prods my feet, no pain.  We discuss running in FiveFingers (which he’d never heard of), and to my surprise, he sees no problem with it.  X-Rays show nothing - other than that I did in fact break my fifth metatarsal on my left foot at last year’s Grand Island Marathon.  The other doc comes in.  He’s heard of FiveFingers and is *thrilled* to meet someone who runs in them.

The verdict?  Keep running.  Let them know how it goes.

I made the decision right there to stop training for the Wisconsin Marathon on May 1.  I need to focus on my 50k in Virginia and the MC200.  I decided that April is going to be a trail month, working back into high miles with some recovery time.

Here I am at the end of April.  The weather hasn’t helped.  It’s been scattershot chilly, overcast, windy.  I’ve only managed a few runs - but they’ve been quality.  I ran an awesome 20k the other day where miles 7, 8, and 9 were all under 8 minutes.  I wanted to do a 30k this weekend, but the weather’s been lousy.  Maybe I’ll try tomorrow night.

The Wisconsin Marathon is less than a week away.  I still don’t know if I’m going to be at the start line.

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My highest mileage month ever, this March.  105.2, mostly on the road.  Trails are nicer, more fun, more comfortable, but the Wisconsin Marathon is next.  A road race.

Running in fivefingers is like learning how to run all over again.  Trails, I got that.  Roads, that’s a whole different thing.  No stumps to watch out for, but no room for forgiveness.  If I’m getting sloppy, I find out instantly.  I’m using my calves more.  My foot strike is farther forward.

In the snow, sometimes, there were only the slightest impressions of my heel.

I did 16, 18 okay on the roads.  My 20 was terrible, but that happens.  Last weekend I hit the slop mud, frozen mud on the trails.  I called it my 23 mile recovery run.  The recovery was mostly mental, a green refresh.

I started running part time in my fivefingers about a year ago.  Full time eight months ago.  Since then, I have given my green KSOs more abuse than I ever heaped on any shoe.  I ran on dirt, mud, rocks, and in Lake Superior.  Concrete and asphalt.  I ran in snow, rain, below freezing.  Ice.  I kicked things, tore small holes in the fabric.  Scuffed the tops of two toes open.  Wore through between some toes.  They’ve been sewn shut, wrapped in duct tape and electrical tape.  Frankenfivefingers.

I have punished them mercilessly.  And they have given me love for 600 miles.  I’ve started wearing a new pair, but I don’t think the green ones are done just yet.

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