What a Stress Fracture Taught Me About Being an Athlete

After setting a marathon PR after a gruelling 18-week training block that peaked at 102 miles, I honestly felt invincible.

Spoiler: I wasn’t.

Just a few weeks later, I was sidelined with a stress fracture. I wouldn’t run again for over 2 months.

This is the story of how I got there, what I did wrong, and — most critically — what I learnt about injury prevention and mitigation, and the mindset needed to stay motivated while you can’t run.

My Downfall (How NOT To Prevent an Injury)

Immediately after the Leiden Marathon (the PR marathon in question), I’d begun preparing for my next race.

I had a few weeks before I started training for the Chicago Marathon in October.

Instead of getting plenty of rest before starting my training, I decided to use the “pre-season” to cut body fat so I’d be as lean as possible going into the season.

This is a common strategy. The idea is that cutting weight during official training will inhibit performance. In pre-season, however, performance doesn’t really matter. So if you’re gonna cut weight, pre-season is the only chance you have.

So after just one week of rest, I started running again.

I jumped straight into 50-mile weeks (including 2 quality sessions and a long-run) with the cherry on the cake: a daily 1,000 calorie deficit.

In retrospect, not my finest plan at all.

In fact, this is a textbook example of how not to recover post-marathon.

After a marathon, one week of rest simply isn’t enough.

Elite runners take 2 weeks to months off. Sifan Hassan, for instance, who took Gold in the marathon at the Paris Olympics, took an astonishing 4 months off after the event.

Long-distance events, and the associated training, batter our bodies.

Hundreds of miles pounding the ground doesn’t do your bones, ligaments or joints any favours. Your body can tolerate this for a while (say, the length of a training plan).

But eventually, your body needs a rest from impact.

Jumping back into high mileage after a short rest is a bad idea. Throwing in quality sessions immediately? That’s just downright insane.

My pre-season included weekly “power intervals” — 20 x 20 seconds at max effort. Power intervals are meant to create EPOC — the “afterburn” effect — which increases caloric burn.

But after a big training block and race, high intensity is the last thing my body needed. It couldn’t handle it.

Instead, I should have stuck with easy miles, or low-impact sports such as cycling, swimming or elliptical. Intensity should have been gradually introduced.

As for the caloric deficit, what on earth was I thinking? Cutting calories is a delicate act and needs to be carefully planned. Where I should have reached for tweezers, I grabbed a sledgehammer.

A calorie deficit as low as 300kcal can have a slough of dangerous consequences, such as muscle loss, bad bone health and (eventually) RED-S.

How much damage do you think a 1,000kcal deficit can have?

I thought I was being disciplined, but in reality, I was just starving my body of recovery fuel. After every run — especially those power intervals — my body didn’t have the resources to repair itself.

I should have taken on a sustainable deficit. 300kcal would have been plenty. That would have given my body fuel while also enabling my weight loss goals.

The Injury Appears (How NOT to Mitigate an Injury)

In any case, despite the ambitious plan, the pre-season training actually felt great — at first.

I was often hungry, but I could manage. The quality sessions felt great, despite the deficit. It seemed like everything would click into place.

But then I began to feel an odd sensation in my right shin. Eventually, the sensation evolved into a mild but noticeable pain that lingered throughout every run.

I slogged on. The pre-season ended, and the Chicago training began. And the pain persisted.

So what did I do? Did I stop running immediately? Did I go to physio?

No, of course not. Instead, I buried my head in the sand. I tried to run through it, telling myself it would pass eventually.

But it only got worse. Every run was painful and it wasn’t looking good.

After a few weeks, I bit the bullet and went to physio.

The session reduced me to tears — partly due to the pain of the physiotherapist mistaking my inflamed leg for a toothpaste tube, and partly due to the news that I’d be unable to run for 8-12 weeks.

With Chicago on the horizon and big goals in mind, it was a devastating blow — a blow that could, perhaps, have been avoided.

In retrospect, I should have stopped running immediately once the pain started.

But I didn’t because. Why? Because I was scared I’d lose fitness if I stopped.

However, the reality is that a few days (or even a week) off running would have had little impact on my fitness.

But by pushing through the pain, I’ve had months off instead of days — that has certainly impacted my fitness.

And it wasn’t as though I had to stop everything. If I wanted to maintain both my fitness and routine, I could have cross-trained. If I were able to cycle, swim or use the elliptical without pain, I could have switched to these for a few days and then re-assessed the injury.

Rest doesn’t mean ‘downing tools’ completely — you can still cross-train, eat well, stretch, strength train and do all those other little things that complement your running. And even if you do ‘down tools,’ a few days off is better than a few months.

Accepting Reality and Adopting the Right Mindset

In any case, I didn’t rest. And I paid the price.

As I left the physio that day, questions raced through my head: what would I do now? How could I train for Chicago? Could I still run it? Will I lose all my fitness? Will I gain weight?

Have I wasted the last few years of my life?

That sort of thing — you get the idea.

For a while, I couldn’t see beyond the injury. I felt like I’d lost not just running, but myself.

As athletes, as we dive deeper into our sports of choice, they inevitably become intertwined with our identity.

Then, when an injury like this happens and we can’t perform, it feels like we’ve not only lost the ability to exercise, but also a piece of our very identity.

That disappointment weighed heavily — and I caved in.

Everything went out the window: my diet fell apart, my replacement “training plan” consisted of half-hearted daily spins on a rickety old bike, and my motivation nose-dived.

But here’s the thing: an injury does NOT change your identity.

You’re still an athlete, even if you’ve got a stress fracture, a broken arm, shin splits — whatever it is. Injuries are part-and-parcel of being an athlete, even among professionals.

Being an athlete isn’t about never breaking — it’s about how you adapt when you do.

When I finally realised this, I got my shit together. I accepted the reality of my situation, and instead of dwelling on what I’d lost, I focused on what I could do.

And you can do a lot with cross-training. The key is to keep the sessions as close to the running sessions you originally had planned as possible.

For me, that meant translating all my running sessions into a cross-training format with comparable intensity and duration.

For example:

• 60 minutes of easy running became 60 minutes of easy spinning or swimming

• VO2 max intervals on the track became VO2 max intervals on the stationary bike

• Tempo runs became tempo elliptical sessions

I also introduced consistent stretching and strength training, and took regular walks to help maintain weight.

Most critically, I returned to structure and good habits:

• A consistent training schedule (as above)

• A varied, whole-foods diet (plenty of veg, protein and carbs, minimally processed and no alcohol)

• Good sleep hygiene (consistent bedtime with 8-9 hours a night)

Do I get the same training stimulus from cross-training? No, not quite. There’s a discrepancy between my body’s strength and my lung capacity, so (for instance) it’s hard to hit Zone 5 while cross-training.

But I do get some stimulus — and I’m getting stronger, more flexible, maintaining a routine and (in my view, most importantly) staying motivated.

That means when I am ready to run again, I’m not starting from nothing. I can gradually swap out the cycles, swims and elliptical sessions seamlessly for runs.

Before this ordeal, I hated cycling. But, as a bonus of focusing on what I can do, I’ve realised that cycling is fun, too. It’s something I’ll be keeping around as part of my regular training.

Perhaps it’ll even lead to a triathlon one day — if I can only learn to do more than 4 laps of the pool without my heart racing like a jackhammer.

Closing Thoughts

As I write this, it’s been 2 months since my stress fracture.

Things are looking good. A few days ago, I ran for the first time since.

I’ve lost some fitness, sure, but I’m fitter than I would have been without structure and cross-training.

And truth be told, I’m not in a rush to get back into full-blown running. I’m motivated, I’m enjoying cycling, and my body has appreciated the break.

If you find yourself in a similar situation, don’t throw everything out the window — an injury is a chance to build other parts of your engine and explore things you otherwise wouldn’t have.

Injury isn’t a setback, it’s an opportunity.