Day 12: A Serious Test of My Pain Threshold

I wish I could tell you all that I was joking about the pain today. Unfortunately, that is all that was on my mind today, because that is all I felt for 90% of the run. I had hoped that since I was to be running the next 3 days in the middle of the desert with not much surrounding me that each days run might be basically mundane. You know, just take my time, and shuffle my feet along for the next 60 miles until I reach Arizona and civilization. Unfortunately, what I was offered today was an almost unbearable pain in my right upper quad muscle for 18 or so miles of the 20 mile run. The run started nicely, and the ache in my right foot was almost unnoticable, which made me very happy. The thought of running relatively pain free for 1 day was exciting, but sadly, twas not to be. At first, about 2 miles in, I felt a tightness developing in what I thought was my hip. So, as I do normally, I began to punch my hip repeatedly to try to "wake it up". (Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, and do not try this at home). It just seemed to work in the past as my own amateur physical therapy. However, the vicious beating I was giving my right hip wasn't helping this time. The pain just continued to build, but I finished the first 4 miles anyway. When I stopped at the van, I felt around on my upper leg and realized that it was actually the muscle on the inside of my right quad, directly in front of my hip, that was aching. I figured my muscles just weren't fully loosened up, so I set out for my next 4 mile stretch. I found out immediately that this ache was not going away, and was getting progressively worse with each step. By the time I managed to reach the van after the second 4 miles, I was limping terribly, and was nearly in tears. The only way I can try to describe the pain is having a knife stab you in the leg repeatedly, coupled with a broken bone. This pain sent my mind into a level of worry not yet experienced on this trip. I was trying so hard to figure out how I was going to finish another step, let alone another 12 miles. I used some Pain Buster muscle rub before beginning the next 4 miles, and did a shot of Apple Cider vinegar hoping that the combination would at least get me through the last 4 miles of the morning. They were completely ineffective at stopping the pain. As I struggled with each step of my right leg, I just prayed that it would go numb for at least 30 seconds to give me a break. It was not to be. The pain was so intense that, even with only 2 miles remaining in the morning 12 miles, I actually had to stop. I stood on the side of the road, with tears in my eyes, trying my best to stretch the muscle in any way that would relieve the pain. Nothing worked. I stood there for 2 minutes, scared to death for the first time, that I wouldn't be able to finish. For some reason, I decided to continue to try to run. It was the longest 2 miles I may have ever run. The fear was evident in my face when I arrived at the van. Mom didn't even know what to say. I think she may have been a little scared too. I had a couple hours to rest, and try my best to recover, before I went back out for the last 8 miles. I massaged my leg profusely with pain reliever, stretched, and then tried to rest. I could barely rest I was so worried, and it was about 95 degrees in the back of the van. The minutes just seemed to fly by, way faster than I would have liked. Like the time in a waiting room at the hospital, when waiting on surgery, it just goes by too fast. Before I knew it, it was time to go back on the road. One more shot of vinegar, one more slather of muscle rub, and I walked onto the road, still scared to death. I started moving very slowly at first, and the pain seemed to be slightly alleviated. This was a great sign and a great mental boost. But it was short lived. Not more than 2 miles, the pain came back with the same ferocity. This sent my mind right back into the misery I was trying to avoid. I was racking my brain, trying to figure out what to do, or if there was anything I could do, short of grabbing a bullet and biting down on it for the next 6 miles. The minutes passed, now ever so slowly, as did the miles. And the pain, it just stayed. Now, I tend to believe that I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, but by the end of the 16th mile of the day, I was beginning to question it. A quick stop at the van for yet another dose of the muscles cream, and it was back on the road. I figured if it was gonna hurt, I was gonna end the day as quickly as possible. But, as I began the last 4 mile stretch, suddenly I felt the road change. Literally. The road flattened out beneath me. I finally realized after 16 miles of some of the worst pain, that I had been running on a road that was slanted down to the left, apparently for water runoff, in the desert. I had been basically stoving my right leg for 16 miles with a short step. Call me crazy if you want, but immediately, and I mean immediately as the road went flat, the pain started to lessen. This is not to say that it went away, but it was suddenly tolerable again. This was a huge emotional, and physical turning point. I realized, as the road stayed flat, that I was actually going to finish this day, and for the first time in the day, nearly pain free. THe minutes suddenly sped up, as did the miles, and before I knew it, the run was over. What a lift to be able to finish all 20 miles, most of them at or slightly over my pain threshold. I just hope I didn't do some serious damage that will be progressive tomorrow. I guess I will find out first thing tomorrow morning. So I'll get ready for bed, slather one more glob of pain buster muscle rub on my leg, and say a little prayer for a flat road and a little less pain tomorrow. Night.