Week 15 – The False Dawn

Week fifteen felt like the turning point… until it wasn’t.

The return to training was finally here, or so I thought. Foam rolling before the session worked a treat, the warm-up was completely pain free. For the first time in weeks, everything felt normal again. No tightness, no hesitation, just moving properly. Onto strides, and it got even better. No pain, no restriction, just smooth, controlled speed. It felt like I was back. Flowing through it, ticking over gears without thinking, like nothing had ever been wrong.

Then came the session. Two 700s at 72s per lap pace to start things off. Again, no issues. Hitting pace comfortably, moving well, confidence building with each rep. It felt like a box being ticked, proof that the last seven weeks hadn’t completely derailed things.

Recovery lap between sets.

That’s where it flipped.

No dramatic moment, no sharp pull, just the quiet, creeping return of pain. Enough to know. Enough to stop. Session done. No negotiation. No pushing through. Just that familiar realisation: not yet.

It’s a frustrating one, because in many ways it felt close. Close enough to convince myself beforehand that I’d be fine. Silly, really, to assume that seven weeks automatically equals readiness, especially when the rehab didn’t properly begin until three weeks in. But that’s the balance you constantly try to strike: optimism versus realism.

Still, it wasn’t all loss.

The warm-up being completely pain free is a genuine win. The strides confirmed that higher speeds are there. The session, even if cut short, showed I can tolerate intensity, just not sustain it yet. And by the end of the week, two 10km runs were completed pain free. Distance tested. Speed tested. Faults exposed.

And that’s the key part… clarity.

There’s now a much clearer picture of what’s missing. It’s not outright capacity, it’s resilience. The ability to hold load, especially when fatigued or transitioning between intensities. That’s where the rehab now needs to be focused.

We live and we learn.

The reality is simple: I’m still injured. And right now, that means I can’t fully train through this transition into track season. That’s a frustrating sentence to write, but ignoring it doesn’t change it.

So the approach stays controlled. Forty kilometres of running this week, alongside two hours on the bike. Nothing heroic, just consistent work. Showing up, adjusting, moving forward.

A reflective week more than anything. Taking a step back, looking inward, and reassessing where things actually stand. These moments are uncomfortable, but they’re necessary. They force you to strip things back to what matters, patience, consistency, and a willingness to adapt.

The conclusion keeps coming back the same: it takes time.

Some things happen quickly. Most things worth having don’t.

Running has always been the clearest reminder of that. Progress is slow, often frustrating, and rarely linear, but it does come, if you keep turning up.

With one week to go until the Essex Road Relays, the focus is simple. Stay steady. Stay consistent. Give myself the best chance of being ready, whatever “ready” looks like on the day.

Let’s see what we can produce.

Breathe better. Run better.