My foot had already removed Worlds from the calendar. I was now trying to explain why a 50-miler might still be reasonable.
I was finally running without the Alter-G. That was the good news. The less good news was that the doctor did not want me changing pace for another week or two.
The avulsion fracture from the New York City Half still needed time. Speed or another hard push could turn the healing spot into a stress fracture. Easy volume was okay if there was no pain. Cycling was okay if I kept the cadence high and did not mash the pedals.
That week I was heading toward roughly 30 running miles and a little more than 100 on the bike. It was progress. It was also not remotely the training I had planned.
The Team USA spot I earned the year before was for the draft-legal sprint duathlon world championship in Pontevedra. More than 1,200 athletes were arriving for the opening weekend. I was still in New York.
No Worlds for me this year. Next year, I guessed.
The next big road goal was Berlin in 23 weeks. I still thought 2:45 was there with enough healthy training. The Vermont 100 was only 13 weeks away, but that was my first 100-miler. The goal there was simply to finish.
There was one problem. Vermont required a 50-mile qualifier before June 1.
Rock The Ridge was the next weekend. It was the flattest 50-miler I knew, almost entirely carriage trails, with places to bail out if the foot went bad. Technically, I could jog 10 miles, walk 40 and still make the 12-hour cutoff.
This was not an argument made by a person trying to avoid running 50 miles.
The proposed plan was slow and extremely specific: test 10 to 12 miles over the weekend, start only if that went well, jog the first 10, run only the flats after that and walk the hills. Any pain in the foot, heel or tendon meant stopping immediately.
My coach thought the whole thing sounded a little silly and compromising.
Correct.
I started looking for a backup 50-miler before the deadline. Rock The Ridge remained a probably. Somehow this counted as restraint.