I ran 818 days until I couldn’t run at all

In college I began running marathons. I enjoyed the feeling of freedom, the rush of adrenaline, the sense of accomplishment. Running became my passion, my hobby, my therapy.

So when I decided to challenge myself to run every day for a month, I thought it would be rewarding. I didn't care about the weather, the time, so long as it was a mile or more. I just wanted to consistently run.

And I did. I ran every day for a year, two years, and then some more. I ran through rain and snow, through heat and cold, through pain and fatigue. I ran on roads and trails, on treadmills and tracks, on hills and flats. I ran alone and with friends, with music and podcasts, with silence and nature. I ran in the morning and at night, before work and after work, on weekdays and weekends. I ran in races and for fun, for speed and for endurance, for health and for happiness.

I ran for 818 days straight.

But then something happened. Something that changed everything.

I felt a sharp pain in my left shin. It was not the usual soreness, but an ache that wouldn’t go away. I tried to shake it off with some stretching or icing. It was a deep, throbbing ache that radiated. It hurt to walk, let alone run.

I ignored it at first. I thought it was just a minor injury that would heal on its own. I thought I could run through it, like I had done before with other niggles and twinges. I thought I was invincible.

I was wrong.

The pain got worse. It became unbearable. It made me miserable, but I would still go out for a run.

I finally went to see a doctor. He took an X-ray of my leg and gave me the diagnosis.

Stress fracture of my anterior tibia.

He told me I had to stop running immediately. He told me I had to rest and recover. I had the Boston Marathon in 6 weeks, how could I rest?

He told me I had broken my streak.

I was devastated. Running was my life, my identity, my joy. How could I live without it? How could I cope with this?

I felt angry, sad, depressed. I blamed myself for being stupid, stubborn, and knowing I shouldn’t have started a streak to begin with.

But then something else happened. Something that changed everything again.

I healed.

Slowly but surely, my leg got better. The pain subsided. The fracture healed.

I was cleared to run again.

But this time, it was different.

I didn't run every day. I didn't start running long or fast or hard. I didn't run to prove anything or achieve anything or beat anything.

I ran because I wanted to. Because I missed it. Because I loved it.

I ran in moderation.

And it was wonderful.

Running became pain-free. Rewarding again. Therapeutic again.

Running became my passion, my hobby, my therapy again.

But not my obsession.

I learned to listen to my body, to respect its limits, to appreciate its abilities. I learned to balance running with other activities, other interests, other aspects of life. I learned to enjoy running for what it was, not what it could be or should be or would be.

I learned to run smarter, happier, healthier.

And that's how I run today.

#lemon8diary #lemon8creator #running #runstreak #exercise #selfcare