My name’s Pippa, and I have plantar fasctiitis.
Cos you know, admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.
I’m not even being ironic here; it’s taken me ages to admit that there might be something wrong. I’ve had nagging arch pain for the past month. I’ve been able to keep it under control for a while with myofascial release exercises from my amazing sports massage guy, as well as rest days, yoga, stretching, ice, and alternating my running shoes. I did everything I was supposed to.
However it became clear this weekend that despite my best efforts, I was fucked. On the Friday I’d been inspired by Finding Traction (a documentary on badass ultra runner Nikki Kimball) and I managed convince myself that my feet felt fine and that a lunchtime run was in fact just what the doctor ordered. You know, just to loosen everything up for a bit. In hindsight, that was a bad idea. Fuck’s sake.
Saturday was moving day, so running was out of the question in any case. But when Sunday morning rolled around, it became clear that under no circumstances should I run. I had to simply accept this, and I had a little weep. I was in a lot of pain, and I’d also miss my long club run.
Nonetheless I resolved to remain positive, and spent at least 2 hours researching plantar fasciitis over a several cups of coffee. Know your enemy, as they say. I would give you a rundown of my newly-learnt wisdom but frankly I’m not a medical professional and you could learn all this from far more reliable sources with a simple Google search.
Skipping my Sunday run was a huge step for me. In the past I would have powered through, unable to prioritize the long-term benefits over the short term gratification. Plus, I really like Sunday runs with my club. But it’s okay. I have simply changed my perspective; instead of being Pippa, Half Marathon Badass Bitch, I’m now Pippa the Arch Pain Slayer. (Don’t judge me here- this ‘avatar’ technique is a completely legit, peer reviewed and proven technique I learned from Jane McGonigal, who I love to bits).
I have absorbed all the literature I could find on the symptoms, and I booked an appointment with my sports massage guy, who, god bless him, was unavailable on Sunday but fielded half a dozen panicked questions from me via Whatsapp.
My point is; I’m injured, and I’ve accepted I’m injured despite all the precautions I took to avoid this. So now, priority number one is defeating this bitch so I can get back out there as soon as possible.
Three cheers for personal growth!
Lots of love
PS. Any wisdom on plantar fasciitis, conventional or not, would be appreciated!