Tove's Walk to Run - Running Log

Weeks Eight and Nine

Week Eight
There’s been a major shift in my attitude: I suddenly start looking upon myself as a runner. I identify with other runners, I’m not embarrassed any more and I don’t care really what other people think. I don’t any more feel like a sack of potatoes trying to move forward. I feel like a runner – even if I’m still at only three minutes running before two minutes of walking.

Like a “real” runner I even get injured - for the past few times my ankle has felt a bit funny after I come home from a training, but I haven’t paid any attention to it. Suddenly I realize it’s the size of a balloon! It hurts and I have to be very careful when I put my foot down. I call my physiotherapist friend, who also runs, and she tells me to keep the foot high, put on ice and not run until I get well. “Do you have proper shoes?” she asks. Karey asks the same: “Are your shoes good? Did you get them from a shop where they know about running?” No, I got them from a shop where they know nothing about running. I just said I wanted running shoes, tried on a pair of a well known brand and as they seemed ok, I bought them. I’ve only had the shoes for a month, but they’ve widened out, especially the right one, and give no support any more. I doubt these shoes were ever meant to run in. 100 euro down the drain.

Week Nine
I’m limping around with a bandage around the ankle, getting more and more frustrated for every day. One inner voice saying: Never mind, go running anyway. The other voice saying: Don’t be stupid, be patient! Patience is not one of my virtues…

I start reading about running shoes – and discover a new science. First of all, what kind of feet do you have? How is your arch? Do you over pronate, under pronate or don’t pronate at all? I have absolutely no idea, and the more I read, the more confused I get. Are you a man or woman? I didn’t realize that even running shoes are made in male and female versions. My problem is big feet, European size 42, and here in Greece I can only get shoes made for men. Now I really regret that I was too embarrassed to walk into a proper sport shop in Norway and get my running tested when I was there before Christmas – you’ll need an expert to judge your feet and running style. Here I won’t be able to find anyone who does it.

I go to the shop and get a list of what shoes they have, then start reading shoe tests on the internet. Which makes me even more confused. A brand one person finds fantastic the other person hates. I finally settle on a pair that feels ok, and hope they will keep me going until I go to Norway at Easter and can get a running test. They cost a fortune and I smuggle the shoes into the house so my husband won’t see them.

Sunday morning: I wake up before dawn, excited because I finally feel well enough to take the new shoes for a test. I’m down at the beach by the time the sun rises. There is no one there, except two men fishing. I’ve been warned and triple warned about taking it easy, so I walk five minutes to warm up and run three minutes. And that’s it. But what wonderful three minutes! The only sounds my shoes tap-tap against the road and the quiet waves washing over the sand.

And the ankle feels fine. So cross your fingers, girls!