Falling Apart

I've been blessed in my running life to be a person who doesn't experience many chronic injuries. Acute injuries, sure (I've been on crutches 5 times in my life! All of those times were from spraining an ankle while playing sports/exercising). But rarely chronic.
So on yesterday's long run, I was very disappointed when I started off the run with a twinge in my knee. I'd gone hiking the day before in beautiful Drumheller, and I know I did something to my knee when sliding down the steep paths in my sandals, since by the end of the day it definitely hurt going down stairs.
But anyway, about that running.
I started my 16k long run 7.30am and my friend happened to be starting at that time as well. (Most half marathoners start at 8.30am). So we wound our way along the river, having a great conversation. By 4k my knee had definitely moved from "twinge" to "sore". But it wasn't that sore, and I knew it would hold out for the run.
At 6k my friend suggested we turn around early, then just add an extra add-on at the end with whatever distance we had left. This would have been a great opportunity to say, "yes, please!" and do so. The benefit being that if my knee started getting worse, I could simply cut the run short.
But I didn't want to. I had never run that route before and was really, really curious to see what was around the corner. And the next corner. And the one after that. And...you get the idea.
So we didn't turn around until 8k. And the logical part of my mind was mockingly singing to me, you're gonna regret this! And the irrational part of my mind was sticking it's tongue out at the logical part and saying, nya nya. No I'm not!
The best part of long runs is the company I keep, and I had a stellar conversation with my friend. So the time back felt really fast.
With two kms to go, I suggested to my friend that she speed up to feel what race pace might feel like on tired legs. I told her I wasn't going to go much (if any) faster, because I wanted to look after my knee. Off she went, and I picked up my own pace a little bit more. I couldn't help it. I have a bit of a competitive streak and I was morbidly curious to see how far I could push my stupid knee.
At 15.7k as I was coming near the finish, my ankle (same leg as my sore knee), started to twinge, and I could feel it about to give out. Yikes!
I quickly slowed down to more of a recovery pace. My ankle continued to wibble and wobble but got no worse, so I eased myself through the last 300m of the run.
I'm writing this the next day, and while my ankle is fine, my knee is definitely on the sore side. We'll see what the week brings, but I may need to take a bit of rest before I run some more. Now that I'm not running, the logical part of my brain is reminding me that my body is too precious to push it to the point of falling apart.