Good to Heaven, Bad to Hell

The ups and downs of running up and down.

The good people at the Manchester Marathon emailed today to say that there are only three days to go before I take part. I immediately unsubscribed from their emails. There was no mistake on their part, and neither was my unsubscription the result of a sudden fit of pique; I was supposed to be taking part in the marathon, but I've done something to my knee. The official term, I believe, is buggered.

But don't be alarmed. Nothing is torn or shattered or worn out. Indeed, the latter idea is a myth. Knees are vastly improved by exercise. Repeated and vigorous use of a joint is now thought to trigger the body's natural maintenance programme, replenishing cartilage and so on.

The problem with my knee is all down to the IT band.

Unless you're a runner, you may well be blissfully unaware of your IT bands (one in each leg, assuming you have the usual complement of lower limbs). The iliotibial band, known for obvious reasons as the IT band or the ITB, is a sturdy length of tough, tendon-like tissue that extends from below the knee right up your buttocks. It acts like a kind of shock absorber and helps a great deal in the business of running.

So far, so good. But overtax the thing, and it will let you know by squeezing the bejeebus out of your knee. This condition is often embellished with the rather grand name: ITB syndrome. And the term ‘syndrome’, as we all know, is the medical community's verbal equivalent of a doctor frowning while waving a hand airily in the direction of the nearest patient.

The upshot of all this is that stairs become a trial. I had to plod, one leg at a time, and going down was worse than going up. ‘Good to heaven, bad to hell,’ is the mantra taught to me by Mrs C, who is a therapy manager for the NHS and has dedicated her working life to Occupational Therapy. Mrs C knows whereof she speaks.

Lead with the good leg when going up the stairs, and with the bad leg when going down. One at a time. Plod, plod, plod.

I also saw a sports therapist who confirmed the diagnosis I’d arrived at courtesy of Dr Internet. I was given an excellent massage and a set of rehab exercises. There was a lot of talk of the glute medius and muscle activation.

The rehab exercises are boring, there’s no getting away from that. You want how many reps? Five sets of twenty! That’s… that’s a hundred! And I have to do that how often?

But I’ve done my best to follow the instructions, and at first, all was going swimmingly. But then, feeling on top of the world, I went for a run.

I managed very well and was pain-free, presumably catching the old ITB off-guard. But after four miles, the syndrome woke up and paid attention. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ it muttered, and performed the biological equivalent of throwing a spanner in the works. I was on a 10K run with my club at the time, so there were at least two more miles to cover. I say ‘at least’ because social runs of this type are not measured down to the millimetre, and the 10k distance is a guideline.

My running companions were supportive, waiting for me while I slowed, sometimes to walking pace. One gallant chap even offered to run back and get his car. But I was able to soldier on, and the pain eased a little as I ran.

But the next day, I realised I had done too much, too soon, and the effects of two weeks of rehab had vanished in a puff and a pant of overheated breath.

Running the Dawlish ‘Oh my Obelisk!‘ event - a trail half-marathon in winter

I’ve learned my lesson, and after more rehab, I tried a gentle jog around the local football field. Mrs C came with me, and I was on strict instructions to take it slow and to stop running and walk before my knee started to hurt.

I managed a couple of miles, though I had to walk for some of it. That’s progress, but it’s safe to say that 26.2 miles is out of the question. Still, I live to fight another day.

Some like to say that running is bad for you. They are wrong in almost every case. Medical advice should be taken into account, but if you can manage a few steps at a jog, you could be on the way to getting fitter and stronger and more resilient, while at the same time improving your mental health.

I like to say that running won't injure you, but you might injure you. By that, I mean that if you overtrain (like I did), or overexert yourself, or fail to prepare, you might well end up injuring yourself.

I was training for a marathon, and on my weekly long run. I’d worked my way up to 18 miles. But the long run, the staple of any good training plan, should really be called the long, easy run. It isn’t a race, so it should be taken gently, building endurance rather than speed. I got carried away, pounding along a path at my usual pace, and that was a step (or a few thousand steps) too far.

So thanks, Manchester, but I won't be seeing you in three days. I am, in the sporting parlance, gutted. I wanted to complete one really big road race, and the London marathon is hard to get into, so I’d pinned my hopes on Manchester. By the time of my injury, the deadline to defer to next year had passed, and I hadn’t insured my entry, so the fee must be written off.

Will I try another marathon?

I’m not sure. I don't want to be beaten, and I know I can do it. I completed the Exeter marathon last year in 4 hours and 45 minutes, and that was on a hot day. But marathon training takes at least three months (longer if you’re a beginner), and the training runs take hours and hours. It’s a big commitment if you want to do it properly, and I do.

Finishing the Exeter Marathon

I have a half-marathon coming up in a month, and sadly, that is looking like a washout too. Progress is slow, but I’m keeping up the rehab and doing strength workouts at home. Muscle strength is key, apparently, and I can do pretty much anything except run.

So good luck to the people lucky enough to be taking part in the Manchester Marathon, and best wishes to everyone running at the weekend, no matter how far you’re going. Let’s all keep moving. We can get stronger and stay strong as we get older. My sister-in-law is a competitive weightlifter, taking part in championships around the world, and she’s in her sixties. She says she’s stronger now than she was in her fifties.

Yes, I injured myself running, but I’ve gained so much in terms of fitness and wellbeing. I’ve made new friends, met new people, travelled for events and had a lot of fun. I enjoy it. It gets me out in the fresh air, dashing along the Devon lanes that I love.

If I hadn't taken up running, by now my sedentary lifestyle would’ve turned me into one of those people who injure themselves by doing something mundane like reaching up to a high shelf or sneezing.

Our bodies aren’t worn down by exercise; they are reinvigorated by it. We are designed to adapt to challenge.

So I will get out there again before long, tackling the pavements and the winding Devon lanes, slower at first, and with due care and attention.

Until then, there are the rehab exercises. They may be boring and repetitive, but anything is better than going back to ‘good to heaven, bad to hell.’