Ice Pack Burn

This weekend I had a first. I injured myself in a way that I did not know was possible. How? The evil, dreaded ice pack. I know, I know. I kinda wish I had a better story. But I don't. Deal with it. So as it happened, I woke up Saturday morning with a sore Achilles heel. This in itself was odd since I hadn't worked out at all Friday, and in fact, I'd barely left my bed in a guilty case of a wonderfully lazy Friday. So, like I said, it was odd to begin with. However, it wasn't severe, so I carried out my normal Saturday 10-miler with no problems.

Upon arriving home, I realized both Achilles were sore. This, though, was not odd. Every so often after long runs, it's not uncommon for me to have tired, disgruntled heels. So this Saturday, as many a Saturday before, I applied a nice ice pack onto the heel of each foot. As always, I used the protective wrap so it wasn't directly touching my skin. And as always, ten to fifteen minutes later, I unwrapped my feet.

The problem was immediately clear. My skin on my right heel was frozen stiff into the ribboned folds from the wrap and looked to be completely frozen and numb to the touch. My mind raced back to a few minutes before when my heel was hurting under the dumb wrap, and I wondered why I hadn't taken it off early. Because I'd done this a thousand times with no problem, that's why! Then I considered if I'd possibly done seriously damage. But don't people spend hours on mountains with frostbite and still recover, I asked myself. Surely they do. So I figured, logically, that recovery from a 10-minute ice pack session in a reasonably warm house--nowhere even near Mt. Everest, mind you--would take place fairly quickly, the situation having resolved itself.

Wrong. Oh so wrong. The stiffness and pain in my right heel continued and left me hobbling glumly all weekend. That meant Sunday I was in too much pain (and too self-conscious) to go to the yoga class I'd planned. Which, by the way, worked out fine since my new yoga mat still hadn't arrived from Amazon. Fair. What pleasantly surprised me--and probably shouldn't have--was that my backup core yoga session at home actually helped me stretch out the Achilles muscles and tendons without overdoing it. I was even able to walk that afternoon . . . albeit with a bit of pain.

Now Monday, it's progressed to a burning feeling on the skin, some red/purplish discoloration, and still a little range of motion limitations. Having now covered it in cream, gauze, and an Ace bandage wrap, it's definitely more functional. I can walk without limping, but I'm concerned about my run tomorrow. Even if I can run without too much discomfort, I'm not sure that I should. Aside from the superficial skin issue, I'm terrified of injuring something internal. Overly cautious? Possibly. Marathon training injury paranoia? Probably. But if I have to sit it out a few more days to be on the safe side, I will.

But more importantly, one question still rings in my ears more than any other: What the hell happened?! How is this even a thing? Argh.