The final two months of 2010 included less running than any other time since I first began running, in 1980. Taking a break is sometimes very difficult for a runner, especially a competitive one. Difficult, because most people feel runners are addicted to running. Many are, but that does not mean everyone fits in that shoe.

I have always professed that if you are a serious runner, you will do whatever is necessary to return to running. That includes taking time off to heal up an injury or an accumulation of injuries. In some cases, just stopping is the best thing for an individual.

Time heals all wounds, is often thought of when on a sabbatical from, not only the physical stresses, but the mental ones, as well.

Pounding the pavement or hitting the trails, day after day, can in itself cause the body to break down. Little by little, the physical stressors take their toll. Most do not consider the mental side of running when taking a break.

Sticking to a plan, no matter what, can be very stressful. You may fret over missed mileage, goose eggs in your running log where big numbers once appeared and fear of losing your fitness level.

During the 100K Road World Championships, held in Gibraltar in November of 2010, I reached a point where it was evident that it was time to take a break. I did not wait to finish the 100-kilometers that day. I opted to complete a marathon and then take off, “at least 2 months”.

With all of the miles of running I do, I would be the first to admit, that I would think, I would miss my daily routine. However, this was not the case. Mentally, I was ready for a break, but physically I don’t think I had much choice in the matter. The last 5K-loop I did to reach the marathon distance. I could no longer bear weight on my foot. My best effort on that loop was just over 90-minutes.

Having a horse step on my foot was not my idea of a fun way to spend the day before running the Reykjavik Marathon. Yet, I am glad I experienced the ride into the mountains and the soak in the hot streams, provided by the hot springs that dot Iceland.

I first noticed the effect of that incident the next day, at the 20-mile mark, when I got twinges of pain in my foot. Having my trusty compressor socks on did enable me to manage the pain and finish the race. Surprisingly, I took a 3^rd in my age category and walked away from the finish line in reasonably good condition.

I took the next week off and traveled to Dublin for 4 days of sight-seeing, before heading to Galway to run the World Trophy 50K the week following the horse incident.

Again, near mile twenty, the foot sent a message that all things were not well. I struggled to finish, but did accomplish that, at least. Again, I took some more time off.

I began to train again and started the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon, knowing I was not totally fit—or healthy. Within the first 2 blocks I thought I should head back to the start and call it a day. Then I thought, get in a mile at least, then another and another and before I knew it, I had forgotten about going back and quitting. It was my 24^th time at that race and I guess it just was completed on memory-miles.

Just into the Athens Classic marathon a few weeks later, someone nudged me off the road, accidentally, and I twisted the same foot the Icelandic had stepped on. Again, I finished the race and was grateful I had made it to the finish line, of the 2500^th anniversary of the Battle of Marathon celebration. A week later I was in Gibraltar.

The night before the 100K race I had my doubts about starting, but felt I should give it a try. It never hurts to try—well it does if you are already hurt. Again, the further I ran the more it hurt.

Being away from something you love to do is sometimes very difficult, but the feeling of starting again really wipes out those times you wanted to run and did not, simply because it was the best thing to do.

My first run back took place on January 8, 2010 on the trails of the Bandera 100K course in Bandera, TX. I was their to support the athletes in the USATF Trail National Championships and while they were out, decided to lace up the shoes, run and walk, for about 30-minutes.

As I headed down the flat, dirt road, someone called to me to wait while he changed clothes, so he could give me a tour. I got back to where we started the run in 2 hours, 51 minutes and 40 seconds.

I was not only glad to have felt so good during the run, but really happy I had put on the Wigwam Compressor socks, because they protected me from the sotol plants, which are a member of the agave family, similar in structure to the yucca plants, and very sharp.

Mentally, I also feel ready to go and get back into my Wigwam socks and racing. I learned that it is best to stop what you love doing, take the time to heal, both physically and mentally and then be ready to go again.