Jinxed.

I don't think I should blog about running anymore.  When I do, it seems that I jinx myself and end up with a running related injury requiring me to sit on the injured reserve list for a six-week period of time. This time around, it's a stress fracture in my left foot.

Actually, I don't think it was necessarily triggered by running.  I think it was triggered by the fact that I had to drag a heavy suitcase on and off trains from here to England and back again a few weeks ago.  Wearing bad shoes.  Ok, so they weren't bad shoes, they were a cute wedge sandal, but bad in the sense that my feet didn't like wearing them as I was carrying said heavy suitcase up and down many, many flights of stairs.  I have a new respect for the American Disabilities Act.  It's not always easy to find elevators in train stations and underground stops throughout Europe.

And did you know that when you attend a writer's conference, they give you a bunch of free books?  This didn't exactly help the luggage situation for the way home.  At least I had wised up enough to turn a blind eye to fashion and wore my running shoes for the long journey home.  It was EARLY on Sunday morning anyway, and the one author that I ran into at the train station was too hungover to notice my feet.  But by then, the sensible shoe choice didn't help me much, the damage was already done.

The day after I arrived home, I went for a run that felt great at the time, but by evening had my left foot writhing in pain, that only got worse until I put it in the "boot."  Argh.  My immediate family will be the first to tell you that running keeps me sane.  When I'm not in a regular running routine, I get cranky.  Quickly.  So last week, I did what any former swimmer would do, faced with my same situation. I found a pool.

One of the many things that I appreciate about Belgium, is the easy access to community sports facilities.  (It reminds me of St. Paul, where you can find lots of options for open swim times at any one of the four universities in a two mile radius.)  The last time I was benched from running with a sports related injury, I attempted a regular swimming routine.  But it was December, and the pool was filled with all sorts of athletes who thought it was too cold and rainy to do an outdoor workout.  (They obviously had never been to Minnesota during the winter months, or they would have known that 35 degrees (F) is perfectly  fine for an outdoor run.)  The pool was so crowded that it was nearly impossible to swim an entire length of the pool without having to stop for someone.

As I headed to the pool last week, I had high hopes that this time would be different.  Although the weather isn't exactly stellar this year, it's not the dead of winter.  The fair weather athletes have mostly moved outside.  After I paid my three euros and gimped my way into the pool, I found the swim lanes much less crowded than last time.  I settled myself in to a lane with only three other swimmers and stroked my way through my first lap uninterrupted - and without pain in my left foot, which was a good sign.  Over the next 1500 meters, I learned something new about Belgium.

Swimming in Belgium is a lot like driving here.  The lanes are smaller, thus the risk of collision infinitely greater, and different rules of etiquette apply.  For example, there doesn't seem to be a yield-to-the-swimmer-coming-into-the-turn before-pushing-off-the-wall-to-start-a-lap-of-kicking rule.

Forty-five minutes later, muscles that I hadn't used in years and forgot I even had, were screaming in protest.  But I was proud to have completed a swim workout for the first time in a really long time.  (Of course, here I call it a "workout," back in college, it would have barely been a "warm-up.")

Two days later, I went back to the pool again and found it even less crowded than my first time.  There was a swimmer next to me and I recognized her from before.  She had a nice even back stroke and was doing flip turns, the telltale sign of a more experienced swimmer.   My muscles creaked along with me, and I started to realize that there might be some benefits to cross-training my running with a non-contact sport like swimming.  Ugh.  That makes me sound much more of an intense athlete than I really intend to be at the moment.  But if it keeps my knees from hurting when I start running again....

When I got out of the pool, the swimmer I admired stopped me to tell me that my swimming was beautiful.  After feeling so sore and stiff, and well, broken, the last few days, this literally made me laugh out loud.  It also reminded me of the time my teammates in college told me that watching me swim the last two lengths of the 200 butterfly was like watching the ceiling open up and an imaginary piano drop from the sky onto my back.  Certainly nothing that would be described as beautiful.  I explained to her I hadn't swam in a really long time.  She told me she swims every day.  I don't think I can manage every day, but I will certainly go back.  And maybe my new friend will want to try a swimming a set or two sometime.