My physical therapist told me this horrifying story about how she trained for a marathon three times — and three times when she reached the peak in her training, after a 20- to 22-mile run, she ended up with stress fractures in her feet until eventually she needed surgery.
Naturally, this story lodged itself in the back of my brain.
When I ran 18 miles two weeks ago in my training for the NYC Marathon and the dull ache in my right foot didn’t really ease up after a couple days, I of course convinced myself it was a stress fracture.
Every Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for my legs.
I realize that sounds weird, especially since, if you know me, you know I'm not the "gratitude journal" type of girl. Don't get me wrong, I see the value in being conscious of the great things you have in life and not taking them for granted. Hashtag blessed just isn't really my thing.