Maranoia

With just over 3 weeks to go until my first marathon the paranoia is beginning to set in. Big style.

It's really my foot’s fault. It was fine up until my 14 mile run. In fact, it was fine during my 14 mile run, and the day after. It wasn’t until 2 days later, that I noticed an ache underneath the left foot and, after some internet research, diagnosed myself with plantar fasciitis. I prescribed myself with a bit of rest for a few days with the plan to do my 15 mile run the following weekend. Unfortunately it was worse during this run and I took my sorry self to the physio for a proper diagnosis.

''The foot is just a bit overloaded, but I don't think it will be a problem," Dave the physio declared cheerfully. ''I'm pretty confident we'll get you round that course."

It wasn’t plantar fasciitis, or a stress fracture, or anything else that wasn’t manageable. I was elated. All I needed to do was to rest for a few days, cross-train, then gradually re-introduce road running up to the point of pain and use the treadmill to make up any additional mileage. I had a new plan.

Since the physio visit the initial foot ache seems to have disappeared but I’ve developed a whole new range of niggles in various parts of the feet, ankles, knees, calves and toes. Each time an ache appears I feel a sinking dread and the endless questioning begins: Is it going to turn into something worse? Will I need to make another physio appointment? Will I collapse during the marathon and never be able to walk again? Then 10 minutes later the ache disappears and I’m left feeling a bit silly.

But it’s not just the aches and pains. There's the growing fear of getting sick. My son woke up with a stuffy nose a few days ago and I promptly opened most of the windows and tried to avoid smothering him with my usual barrage of kisses. Then I woke up in the middle of the night with a slightly sore throat and was convinced it was the onset of swollen glands. After taking a swig of water I realised I was just a bit thirsty.

I’ll be glad when the marathon is over – not because the thought of running 26.2 miles is terrifying, but because all this constant paranoia is exhausting. 

Just 3 more weeks to get through with a bottle of hand sanitiser by my side.