Running injuries: demoralising, but a chance to gain perspective

I love running, but can’t do it at the moment due to a minor foot injury. On the surface, it’s plain demoralising. Stepping back a little, though, there’s a chance to gain perspective.

The injury emerged as a niggle a couple of weeks ago. I proceeded with plans to do a triathlon, and the 21.1 kilometre run upgraded the niggle to a proper injury.

I hoped that a few days of rest would allow it to recover, but the healing process has been slow, and I only felt comfortable to return to running this morning.

Just 100 metres from my front gate, the pain returned and it became clear that more healing is needed.

Gah!

While frustrating, the opportunity to gain perspective is significant:

  • Being deprived of the chance to run makes me aware just how much I value the act of running, and the process of training.
  • Trying not to rush back too soon is an exercise in patience, that forces me to take a long term view: waiting a little too long rather than a little too little is the wise option, because the risk of worsening the injury is significant. It’s not worth returning too soon, and extending the length of my injury layoff from a couple of weeks to a couple of months.
  • Not being able to run helps me to appreciate other sports more. I’m still able to cycle, swim, and do yoga. So, on the whole, the wait to run is not so bad.

As lofty as my ideals on perspective might be, I’d honestly swap them in a heartbeat for the chance to run again tomorrow.

For now, the only option is to wait for my foot to heal. While waiting, I imagine what the sports media might be saying, if I was a footballer:

“Harrison faces a setback in return from foot injury” or “Harrison’s plans to fly to Serbia for horse placenta treatment thwarted by the COVID pandemic.”

To my fellow runners currently battling injury: take courage, find perspective, and once you’re able to start running again, enjoy it!

Running can be hard, but it’s hardness that we choose and that we emerge fitter and stronger from. Something to be grateful for.

Why does cycle touring appear on my CV?

My CV – or résumé if you’re from west of the Atlantic – includes the following line, under the “Skills and Attributes” section:

“Physical & mental endurance: solo cycle across Africa and ultra-marathons in three countries.”

There are two reasons that I continue to include this line in my CV:

  1. I believe that enjoyment of endurance sports indicates attributes that are helpful in the workplace. Perhaps the most basic is that the applicant takes fitness seriously, so they are likely to be able to work full days, fulfil travel commitments, and not take many days off sick. Beyond that, people who participate in endurance sports seek out and persevere with discomfort, whether in training or racing. This could translate to having the mental infrastructure in place to cope with a demanding role. Of course, interviewers should seek to confirm both of these assumptions rather than accepting them at face value… which leads to my second point.
  2. Referring to sporting interests serves to humanise me and to potentially create a point of connection with the interviewers. Several applicants might tick the boxes on qualifications and experiences, leading to a pile of CVs that seem to represent ultra-comparable would-be task-completers. The recruiter may as well create their shortlist through random selection. If my CV gives a glimpse into my interests and mentality as a person, maybe I’ll stand out from the others and be able to take part in an interview that resembles a human-to-human conversation rather than a courtroom cross examination.

To conclude: don’t write off your interests or idiosyncrasies as aspects that should be hidden from view when making job applications. Finding a way to include them may help to indicate that you have the mindset that the employer is looking for, or at least serve to humanise you and facilitate connection.

Book Review: Land of Second Chances

Summary: this book by Tim Lewis focuses on the history of cycling in Rwanda, through to 2013. It shares the stories of Rwandan cyclists and people who have supported Rwandan cycling in recent years.

I was interested to read Land of Second Chances because I live in Goma and regularly cross the border to enjoy Rwanda’s smooth roads and epic climbs (at the time of writing, these sorties are on hold due to COVID). I’m also part of Goma Cycling Club; some club mates of mine cycle for the Congolese national team or semi-professionally for a Rwandan club. I wanted to read about the Rwandan set-up in order to fuel my imagination for the potential ways that Congolese cycling could develop.

Message: Tim Lewis seeks to go beyond recounting the history of cycling in Rwanda to ponder the impacts of professional cycling on the cyclists themselves, and the ways that professional cycling could or should be supported in sub-Saharan Africa. Cycling appears to be symbolic of Rwandan post-genocide redemption, but as the book begins to explore: it’s not that simple.

Highlights: personally, I most enjoyed reading about the road races that took place in Kigali in the 1980s. I once ran a marathon on those roads and suffered due to the heat and hills (and, let’s be honest, due to a lack of fitness). Consequently, it was special to imagine riders whizzing around the same roads at breakneck speed on steel racing bikes.

I imagine that other readers may particularly enjoy reading about the colourful cast of characters, comedic moments reminiscent of Cool Runnings, the context on Rwanda’s history and economy, and the redemptive theme: following the horror and hurt of the genocide, the cycling team symbolises Rwanda’s apparent march towards a brighter future.

Limitations: the author’s attempt to dig into the psychology of Rwandan cyclists is laudable, but he does so with limited success. While Lewis demonstrates self-awareness about some generalisations, he readily makes others apparently without blinking. I don’t particularly blame the author for these limitations, due to the fact that he is a journalist rather than an ethnographer, and am grateful that he willing to pose important questions such as “is riding in the Tour de France really ‘The Dream’ for many of these cyclists, or is the concept somewhat foreign and secondary to more locally immediate dreams such as establishing a good life for oneself and one’s family?”

Aside from this limitation, I also feel that the book was unfocused in places, devoting several pages to recounting the backstories of some characters – in particular, Tom Ritchey – whose story (while fascinating) was of negligible importance to the overall narrative. The description of an initiative to support coffee producers with improved bicycles was useful for highlighting the diverse use of bicycles in Rwanda, but was included in a somewhat disjointed way. This indicated sub-standard editing – a conclusion corroborated by the presence of several typos.

Concluding thoughts: I would highly recommend this book to readers interested in cycling or in Rwanda. While there are limitations, the book represents a happy divergence from dominant narratives concerned with African sport and with Rwanda. Namely, it’s a book about African endurance athletes that doesn’t focus on runners from Kenya or Ethiopia, and it’s a book about Rwanda that doesn’t focus on the tragedy of the genocide or President Kagame’s ambitious economic agenda.

The versatility of cycling

The bicycle is a wonderful machine that facilitates such a diverse array of activities. I was a late convert to cycling, not pedalling with any regularity until I started using a bicycle for commuting to work shortly before starting university.

During my second year of university, I completed an internship in Nepal and borrowed a bicycle from a generous friend to cycle 32 kilometres from Kathmandu to Nagarkot. The views of the Himalayas that I had hoped to see were obscured by haze. However, the experience of cycling there, spending two nights in a homestay, and then returning was a turning point in how I saw cycling.

I would like to briefly share some stories about using bicycles for commuting, fitness, long distance travel, and income generation. In doing so, I hope to communicate how easy it is to get into any of these.

Commuting

My first job, in the months leading up to starting university, was working as a Marketing Assistant for Eden. I would commute there by bicycle; an eight kilometre round trip.

Having started with a bicycle borrowed from my parents, partway through I switched to a three-speed, 30-year-old Dawes Diploma that I’d bought for £45, in preparation for university.

Unfortunately I misjudged the strength of the front brake and went over the handlebars in the carpark outside work. I staggered into the office with blood streaming from my nose and gravel stuck in my chin. My dear colleagues offered sympathy and wipes, I checked that my teeth were intact, cleaned up, and got on with the day.

In the run-up to starting university, I willed the healing process to go quickly. While my nose and chin healed well, the last scab to fall off – just a couple of days before I moved – resembled a toothbrush moustache. I’m grateful that the timing worked out and I didn’t pick up any unfortunate nicknames during Fresher’s Week.

Fitness

After returning from Nepal, I completed my first “A to A” cycle: a 17-mile (27-kilometre) loop south of York towards Selby. I remember the thrill of pedalling for the sake of pedalling, and the feeling of satisfaction that arose from navigating smoothly and making it home before dark. The ride took one hour and fifteen minutes.

This ride opened my eyes to the possibility of touring rather than fitness, so five years elapsed before I started cycling for fitness in Goma with my housemate Tom, on a bicycle picked up in town for USD 135. Tom and I soon joined Goma Cycling Club, enjoying the thigh-burning two-hour club rides held each Sunday morning …and also the sense of community in the club that came through in our club debriefs and post-ride chapati and maziwa (natural yoghurt, though the word literally means milk) breakfasts.

Long distance travel

During university I started to follow Tom Allen’s cycle touring blog. His philosophy of not overcomplicating cycle touring convinced me to give it a try in the Yorkshire Dales on the same three-speed Dawes (now affectionately known as ‘Betty’) that I used for getting around York.

I bought a set of panniers for £10.51 off eBay, squeezed my tent and sleeping bag into them, and spent three summery days cycling 150 miles (241 kilometres) from York to the Dales, and back. This trip confirmed that cycle touring is simpler and more accessible than it first appears.

If you can ride for a day, find sufficient food, and organise shelter for the night, then crossing continents is just a case of repeating the trick over and over until you arrive. Photographic evidence here (though you will need to scroll back to April 2016).

Income generation

From October 2016 to March 2017, I was working sporadically and searching for a full time job. I needed temporary work, and found it working as a cycle courier with Deliveroo.

Cycling through the British winter wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Braving sleet and crosswinds to deliver a hamburger and a side of chips gave rise to existential questions.

But the work represented a timely stopgap solution, and more than that, led to meeting colleagues whose kindness and humour I really appreciated. Being part of this community of working cyclists created cherished friendships and memories.

Conclusion

Perhaps you cycle for transport, but haven’t considered cycling for fitness or touring. Why not try going for an “A to A” cycle, or choose a spot for a picnic, pack some food, and pedal there and back?

Perhaps you’re looking for work and have a bicycle that you don’t use. Could taking on some shifts as a cycle courier work for you?

Perhaps you want to get fitter but can’t find time amid work and family commitments. Could cycle commuting be an option?

Perhaps you don’t even have a bicycle? Borrowing or buying second-hand are good places to start.

The options are so diverse and the barriers to starting are so low. I look forward to hearing the stories of your commutes, tours, forays into cycling for fitness, or starting to work as a cyclist.

I wish you safe roads and tailwinds.

Book review: There Is No Map In Hell

Summary: the author, Steve Birkinshaw, is a keen runner with a background in orienteering. The book is autobiographical, with a focus on Steve’s attempt to break the record for running the Wainwrights – 214 peaks in the Lake District… in under seven days, one hour, and twenty-five minutes.

Message: Steve isn’t preachy, but the way he writes naturally communicates great enthusiasm for running and deep appreciation for the outdoors. He doesn’t tell you to go out and run in the hills. Rather, he inspires you to do so.

Highlights: the author’s self-deprecating style makes the book lightly amusing throughout. I particularly enjoyed Steve’s descriptions of generating interest in his record attempt through creating a Twitter account and a blog. Being public about his plans was unnatural for him, which makes for descriptions that are comical and affirming in equal parts.

Limitations: happily, Steve did not try to do anything through the book beyond sharing his experiences in running, culminating in an epic record attempt. My only gripe with the book is the incongruence between the title and Steve’s own personality: “There Is No Map In Hell” comes across as quite brash, whereas the author is anything but.

Concluding thoughts: I would recommend reading this book if you wish to be inspired to get outdoors, or to feel nostalgic about time spent in the mountains. It’s an easy read …apart from the sentences in which Steve describes the agony he experienced due to wear and tear on his feet.

Privilege: a case study.

“Privilege” is a loaded term. It’s meant to cause awareness, but often provokes indignation instead.

We’re not talking about the privilege that conveys a special honour associated with an action. Rather, the privilege that describes an inherently advantageous position that certain groups experience by virtue of their characteristics, such as one’s gender or race.

The dogma around privilege is messy. I don’t pretend to grasp it very well, so won’t attempt to present it.

Allow me to offer a case study, instead:

After completing a long run, I often drink ORS (Oral Rehydration Solution) in order to aid my recovery. ORS helps the body to replace fluids and minerals. It’s usually cheap: costing less than USD 0.50 per sachet.

..but ORS is intended for medical use, in particular for diarrhoeal illnesses such as cholera.

I live in DR Congo, a country that still records thousands of cholera cases each year. In 2019, there were at least 540 deaths among 31,000 cases. For many, accessing health care is made difficult or impossible through geographical isolation and lack of financial means, among other barriers.

Some die for lack of ORS. But I’m taking it to recover more quickly from running.

This juxtaposition served as a stark reminder of the privileged position I’m in.

Run slower

Running appears to be inherently hard.

It conjures up images of painful sports classes in school. Sweat. Knee pain. Shortness of breath. Faster people who seem to glide past, making it all look easy.

But outward appearances be deceiving.

Really, running does not need to be hard. In fact, one could argue that the slower you go, the better.

Going slowly means:

  • you’re more likely to do it (regularly)
  • your chances of injury are lower
  • you can hold a conversation with a friend, or appreciate listening to music or a podcast
  • the exercise will become easier over time, rather than being a painful road to fatigue and injury

So, step out and try it! Run slowly.

If your body isn’t used to it, then mix walking and running at whatever ratio you’re comfortable with.

No pain, all gain.

Five tips for developing a regular exercise routine

  1. Find an anchor

Attach your exercise routine to an existing habit or activity. This is known as anchoring.

Examples:
1) if you commute to and from work each day, consider cycling or running your commute.
2) do 10 push ups when you brush your teeth in the morning, and 10 squats when you brush them in the evening.

Even if you forget every other tip in this piece, remember anchoring.

  1. Put in the prep

This is about making it easier to exercise than to avoid exercising. If you plan to run the next morning, lay your clothes out on the floor the night before …or even sleep in your running clothes.

If you plan to go cycling, ensure that your bicycle is clean and well maintained, so that there’s no barrier between wanting to go cycling and pedalling down the road.

  1. Establish accountability or community

While exercise can often be personal, making it visible to others can help.

Join a club, so that you’re motivated to show up and see your club mates. For more competitive clubs, showing up regularly may be key to demonstrating your commitment.

In a similar vein, find a friend (or friends) and plan to exercise together. This can be even more motivating than joining a club, because they might exercise solo – or not at all – if you don’t show up.

Join Strava, so that others can see what you’re doing, and encourage you.

  1. Start small and/or slow

When developing a regular exercise routine, forget about heroic workouts and aim for something you can easily achieve daily.

Doing 20 push ups a day for several months is preferable to doing 100 push ups a day for three days, then none.

Jogging five kilometres five days a week for six months could be absolutely transformative, even if you’re only moving at a gentle, conversational pace. By contrast, running far or fast can quickly lead to injury and irregularity.

  1. Have fun

In the words of Mary Poppins, “a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down.” Which is to say: choose an activity that you genuinely find enjoyable.

Too many people seem to consider exercise to be a bitter medicine. While it’s true that there can be self-imposed discomfort and that exercise benefits one’s health, I would recommend ensuring that the taste of the “sugar” overwhelms the taste of the “medicine.”

If you are running, do not turn every session into a sufferfest. Go slowly, look at the views or what’s going on around you, feel the sun or rain on your skin, and smile.

This way, you will look forward to getting out the door rather than dreading it, and you won’t be counting down the seconds until you can stop.


Bonus: in the early stages of developing a regular exercise routine, you will be more injury prone. This is a good reason to take it easy and build slowly.

At the start, your improvement in performance could be rapid. This is great for motivation, but you should anticipate reaching a plateau. When you reach that point, it could be time to implement more specific training and to set performance-related goals. Equally, there’s nothing wrong with just maintaining your newfound fitness.

Exercise always needs to be considered alongside diet, whether you’re hoping to lose weight or simply get stronger. If you’re in the first camp, carefully examine what you are eating (quality and quantity) and implement incremental improvements rather than making drastic changes. If in the latter camp, I would advise reading about what nutrition will be key to recovering well.

And finally: remember that what you do five days a week for months or years is far more important than doing something heroic every now and then.

Everyone can be an athlete

The Oxford English Dictionary defines an “athlete” as “a person who has undertaken training or exercises to become proficient in physical activities such as competitive sports (athletics).”

Bill Bowerman, co-founder of Nike, took a wider view, saying that “if you have a body, you are an athlete.” While the more cynical among us would reflect that Bill’s definition means Nike can sell to anyone, his soundbite stuck, and appears on Nike’s “About” page to this day.

Bill and the dictionary are both wrong.

The word athlete is derived from Greek words, meaning “one who competes for a prize.”

We can’t all become “proficient in physical activities” …and who defines the level of proficiency anyway?

On the other side, simply inhabiting our bodies is not enough.

What each of us can do is compete for a prize, attaining the “why?” that motivates us to engage in physical activity in the first place.

Last February, the sports tracking application Strava presented results of a study examining why people run. The reasons, or “prizes” if you will, ranged from looking for community to improving mental health, from seeking to feel strong and energetic to wanting a snack at the end.

To note: most of the prizes aren’t exclusive. Your only competitor is yourself.

So, to conclude, you are not an athlete simply because you have a body. But you can very easily become an athlete, if you find motivation to be physically active.

I wish you the best, as you compete for your prize.