The Starting Line: My Running Awakening
human-writtenⓘ
I love to run, I do. But that’s more of a recent development…
The wake-up call
A couple of years ago, I was the guy who loved the good things in life as they say: cooking, eating, sleeping in, long wine-induced discussions, the more the better. Sure, I was overweight and had trouble sleeping, but that was the price to pay for living The Good Life.
Then, two things happened.
One was the traditional family picture on the 1st of January. I looked at myself and instantly knew this couldn’t go on like this. Nothing new there, I had been there before. Except, this time my siblings actually told me as well, and that hit hard.
The second was when a chair collapsed under my weight a few weeks later. And then another chair a few days later. The furniture was literally telling me I was too heavy. That hit hard as well, both figuratively and quite literally.
So I started a keto diet. Its rules are very simple: no carbs, only protein and fat. That means things like bread, pasta and sugary drinks, but also most fruits, were off limits. And that I could eat meat, eggs, cheese, a good selection of vegetables, and even an occasional glass of dry white wine. Worked pretty well for me, being the bonvivant that I was.
To support this diet, I figured that some exercise would do no harm. So I went and dug up my old running shoes to do regular sweat sessions around the block.
My first race
A year passes, it’s Christmas. I’m down 20 kg (yay!), slowly working my way to a healthy BMI. And I’m running 3 times a week and feeling pretty good about it.
Now, I’ve always needed a goal. The things I do need to lead somewhere, or else they’re not worth doing. I’m afraid that’s just how I’m wired. And with my target weight in sight, or at least the hint of it, I’m starting to think I need something to keep maintaining my newfound healthy habits. So I sign up for a race: the Eindejaarscorrida, a full 8km through the city of Leuven just after Christmas.
I don’t remember the time I ran (didn’t have a Strava account back then). I don’t remember much from the race itself. I don’t even remember whether or not I got a medal at the end.
But I do remember thinking: I look different. Not that I was heavier than most, of course I was. And I wasn’t running slower either.
No, I was running differently: for every two steps I took, most other runners who were running at the same pace took 3 or even more.
I didn’t think much of it at that time. That would come much later.
My first injury
It started with pain on the inside of my left knee, the day after a run. It would go away when I ran again, only to come back more fiercly the day after. I had been running pretty consistently for the past two years now, so this had to come from somewhere.
The first thing I tried was to rest. No running - full stop - for a week, then slowly build up again. That didn’t help, from the very first run I was hurting again.
After googling some more, it hit me: shoes. I have no idea of the mileage on my old shoes, I probably “just” - mind the quotes - need a new pair.
When I got to the running store, I was given a long explanation about overpronation and supination, which did sound a bit like a sales pitch, but which would eventually led me to buy some Brooks “Beast”. Solid new shoes, with extra-supersoft-cushioning, smart support, ideal for the heavy overpronating runner, yours truly.
Except, it didn’t fix my underlying problem. At least not in the long … wait for it … run.
(The story continues in part 2)