Two weeks ago today I ran a cruel 14 miles with my Dad. I had missed only one 'easy run' and despite two weekends away I followed my training plan extremely diligently. The weather was sunny, the route was varied, but my joints were screaming. Since then I've been doing light exercise and going to a great physio.
Running is a strange thing - more than any other sport (though I'm sure some will argue otherwise) it involves such mental strength. There I was, sobbing - I had already completed 75% of the run, but it wasn't enough to evaporate the tears. Wallowing in self-pity I made it back to the car, eating my remaining jelly babies, trying to console myself.
Of course as soon as I thought about all those people out there who face challenges much harder than mine on a daily basis I felt like a fool. As I lay in the bath, I read in Running Like a Girl that the author overtook an army veteran who had no eyes and no ears, but was running the Brighton Marathon. You know there are people who are much worse off, but it's YOUR challenge and in that moment all you consume yourself with is your 'failure'.
Comfort can be found in knowing that others are going through the same thing. If you are in the same boat I urge you to read Running Like a Girl because it may well be the best metaphorical hug of all.