Congratulations, you get to have surgery!
Okay, so maybe that sounds weird, but when I received the news last week, my happiness may have seemed a little...odd.
To recap, I have had a pain in my foot for a couple years now. My midfoot joint has stuck out like a bony protrusion for as long as it can remember, but in 2011 I remember it really starting to bug me. Some days I couldn't fit it into certain shoes. It usually calmed down, though. However, in the past year, I've had a nonstop pain when running, but it was dismissed as arthritis, and something I thought I'd just have to deal with...until recently, when everything went downhill rather quickly and it became obvious there would be no simple "just dealing with it."
I was finally able to get in to Dr. Coetzee, a great orthopedics guy who operated on my foot in 2007 when I ruptured my posterior tibial tendon in the same foot (my poor left foot). He brought up xrays I had had done over the past several years, and his diagnosis was immediate. "Have you ever heard of a Linsfranc sprain?" he said. I couldn't even understand what he said -- so the answer was a definite no. What I thought was simple arthritis turns out to be a damaged, unstable joint. He showed me the differences in the xrays, pointing out the abnormal spaces in the bones of the joint and saying how it "looked really bad" just between 2011 and 2012 alone. He also propped my foot up and "wiggled" the joint, saying normal joints don't do that. I was both disgusted and relieved to know this isn't a normal pain.
Next steps: Either I ignore it--though it will eventually catch up with me, Dr. Coetzee assured me--or we do the surgery, during which as I understand it he'll basically stabilize the joint, fusing it so it stops moving and stays in place like most people's joints do. Recovery will include six weeks in a boot followed by rehab that he assures me will be easier than what I went through when I had my tendon surgery.
I basically yelled, "sign me up!!!" when he gave me the surgery option, and now I know where I'll be at 7 a.m. on Feb. 26. I cannot wait to get this fixed and to get out of this odd limbo I've been in for so long now, where my foot hurt and kept me from training as much as I'd like and as intensely as I'd like. And recently, it's affected just walking alone, so it's time.
How did this happen? I have no idea. In typical me fashion, I seem to have an injury for which I don't know the source...but man, does it hurt. From what I understand, these types of injuries are common among football and soccer players and can happen with one big blow (my doctor cited Broncos player Eric Decker as the most famous example of someone who had the injury...and he also apparently performed his surgery, which took place when he was a Gopher). I don't remember any big blows or twisting of my foot. It just gradually got worse and worse...and I ran through it, managing it fairly well until today. One big issue, I think, is that I didn't know what it was, and had to book my appointment with this doctor eight months in advance. I viewed it as simple arthritis, took steps to manage it and tried to remain active. Of course this didn't help things, but rest wouldn't have helped either. Looking back at the x-rays, it's been damaged for quite some time, and even led to other injuries, including a metatarsal stress fracture in 2012 (he confirmed the connection).
I've had a couple people ask when I'll be able to run again. I honestly have no idea and didn't ask. I did ask if I'll be able to run normally and resume normal training at some point, and he said yes. I'm not putting a timeframe around it just yet, because I've had this for so long that I now view this surgery as the starting point of hopefully the rest of my running life! I know it sounds dramatic, but this has really worn on me. I threw all my goals out the window and just hoped I'd be able to keep running--and hopefully pain free at some point. I'm hopeful I'll be able to now, and it's SUCH relief.
I'm committed to doing my rehab RIGHT and giving this the time it needs to heal. Post-surgery will suck for a while, and I know that. I've been through foot surgery before that kept me out of running for half a year. The immediate pain following surgery will make me question what the hell I've gotten myself into. I think this is the right option, though...I mean, I went for an easy run tonight, which all my runs are these days, and I was very aware I was dragging my leg due to not being able to push off my foot. And you can only run so fast on one working leg, too -- I learned the hard way when I tried to pick it up on Sunday and basically tripped over my dead side, rolling my ankle in the process. I'm thankful I can get out and do these easy, short runs within reason--but I'll be glad to get this done. It's time.
I'm going to try and be a better blogger through my recovery, because I think it will hopefully be rewarding to look back on, and hopefully it will help keep me on track and keep me motivated. I think I'll even track my cross-training, which I will need to get creative with during the first several weeks when I can't put pressure on my foot. Hand bike, anyone?
This injury has been a true test of will and patience--two things I'll need during my recovery. I think I'm up for it. What have I got to lose?
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Running Through The Dark
I've held off posting this type of post because I'd hate for this to become a black hole of negativity...which I'm afraid it could easily become for a bit given how my running has been going. But, it's my blog and the points of this post have been floating around in my head for what feels like forever. Don't get me wrong; life is good. However, this is a running blog, so time for another running update.
A long time ago, running was a way to escape dark, difficult times. And it worked. Hard work paid off, and I found joy and friendship and my eventual husband through this great hobby. Recently, though, running itself has been kind of dark. It's totally normal to cry on runs, right? I can't believe myself, but this has been me recently. Too many breakdowns and zero breakthroughs.
The main reason is my foot. Since the fall of 2012, I've had bad pain in my midfoot and big toe. It's arthritis, and I hit a breaking point last June. The constant discomfort, inflammation and swollen foot that felt like it didn't fit right in my shoe became too much. I called to make an appointment with the doctor who did my tendon replacement surgery in my foot in 2007. "Sure," the scheduler said. "It looks like his next available appointment is in February 2014."
This was crushing to hear. I had already decided I wasn't going to start Grandma's Marathon, even though I'd trained. But it was almost summer--prime training time! Missing a race was one thing, but having to deal with the pain for the next eight months was crushing to think about.
I saw a podiatrist instead, whose first question was if I'd seen the doctor I was trying to get into see. He laughed when I told him about how far in advance I had to book out, and then prescribed cortisone shots for my foot to help me at least get through the summer. And guess what? They helped. But now, they've long worn off, and every run over the uneven snow feels like steps closer to snapping my foot in half. Yes, I realize this is dramatic. Plus, I'm 11 days out from my appointment...after waiting almost eight months! You'd think I could get it together. I will say, though, I'm just frustrated. I've long run with a bad gait because of this injury, and it's arthritis -- what can be done? That's why I will see a doctor; I don't have the answers. But if he says surgery, I'll say how soon can we schedule it. I am so tired of this and the fact that I haven't been without pain in more than a year -- it's just a matter of what degree of pain. Good is a dull ache; best is a sore toe at most. Worst is right now, which is a sharp nerve pain shooting out from my toes, with the dull ache in the midfoot there in the background.
I even went back to my podiatrist this past week to get my orthotics re-covered and told him about my pain. He did some strength tests, asked if my foot slaps on the ground when I run (yes), and said it sounds like some sort of peroneal nerve palsy, with the nerve supposedly misfiring from up in my leg down to my foot, resulting in loss of coordination and strength in my foot and leg. Wonderful. Yes, I drag my leg when I run now so it makes sense. He referred me to ANOTHER person to do nerve tests, but I'm going to wait to see what my doctor next week says.
I'm ready for progress instead of things just getting worse and worse with my running. I think that's the source of my frustration. I'm profoundly disappointed in myself and how things have gone with my running over the past several years. It's not like I ever knew my PRs would be my ultimate PRs and then they'd be done. But I've fallen so far off where I used to be, and as hard as I want to work to get back there, I just can't seem to find the right formula to get there. My mind still sometimes thinks I'm the runner I used to be, but my body reminds me I'm not. Seven years have now passed since my high point and it seems so long ago and I feel so broken.
It's just a hobby, and there's so much more to life, but it eats at me when I can't seem to grasp the goals I've set for myself. I don't know if my foot will get better and if I'll still be able to train the ways I used to and do the things I like to do -- tempos, track workouts, hills, etc. I seriously don't have motivation problems, which makes it worse. The winter is rough, but I don't dread the cold and don't see it as an excuse. I would love to be out there busting my ass to work toward my goals if my foot would just cooperate. It kills me to hear others complaining about the weather, or motivation, or having to go to the treadmill. Guess what arthritis apparently also hates? The treadmill. Actually, who am I kidding -- it hates running all together right now.
I sometimes wish I could barter with the universe over injuries....take away this pain and I'll take a week of the flu and a cavity, for example. Pure nonsense. The body will do what it needs to do and sometimes I need to stop and listen more, I guess. I'm just at a loss for what to do, though. I've had stress fractures, and I know after 2-3 months you'll generally be all healed up with a stronger bone, to boot. What about a creaking, inflamed joint that feels like it's reached its breaking point, though? My husband pointed out earlier that I'm going through something many of us will go through...but I'm about 50 years too early.
I'm just not ready to give up yet. Lately I seem to ask myself so many questions on every run. How much more can you take? Why are you out here? What do you even want from this anymore? How is this enjoyable when it hurts so much? Then I imagine just choosing to stop and not do it, and I can't. I need a doctor to tell me exactly what to do with this. I think that's the twisted thing about running in general...we push and push, even when it sucks, because we hope it will pay off somewhere down the road. I keep running like I'm chasing the ghost of my old self and goals and investing in my fitness, just hoping it will pay off somewhere in the near future, when I'll also hopefully be done with these ailments.
Onward and upward.
A long time ago, running was a way to escape dark, difficult times. And it worked. Hard work paid off, and I found joy and friendship and my eventual husband through this great hobby. Recently, though, running itself has been kind of dark. It's totally normal to cry on runs, right? I can't believe myself, but this has been me recently. Too many breakdowns and zero breakthroughs.
The main reason is my foot. Since the fall of 2012, I've had bad pain in my midfoot and big toe. It's arthritis, and I hit a breaking point last June. The constant discomfort, inflammation and swollen foot that felt like it didn't fit right in my shoe became too much. I called to make an appointment with the doctor who did my tendon replacement surgery in my foot in 2007. "Sure," the scheduler said. "It looks like his next available appointment is in February 2014."
This was crushing to hear. I had already decided I wasn't going to start Grandma's Marathon, even though I'd trained. But it was almost summer--prime training time! Missing a race was one thing, but having to deal with the pain for the next eight months was crushing to think about.
I saw a podiatrist instead, whose first question was if I'd seen the doctor I was trying to get into see. He laughed when I told him about how far in advance I had to book out, and then prescribed cortisone shots for my foot to help me at least get through the summer. And guess what? They helped. But now, they've long worn off, and every run over the uneven snow feels like steps closer to snapping my foot in half. Yes, I realize this is dramatic. Plus, I'm 11 days out from my appointment...after waiting almost eight months! You'd think I could get it together. I will say, though, I'm just frustrated. I've long run with a bad gait because of this injury, and it's arthritis -- what can be done? That's why I will see a doctor; I don't have the answers. But if he says surgery, I'll say how soon can we schedule it. I am so tired of this and the fact that I haven't been without pain in more than a year -- it's just a matter of what degree of pain. Good is a dull ache; best is a sore toe at most. Worst is right now, which is a sharp nerve pain shooting out from my toes, with the dull ache in the midfoot there in the background.
I even went back to my podiatrist this past week to get my orthotics re-covered and told him about my pain. He did some strength tests, asked if my foot slaps on the ground when I run (yes), and said it sounds like some sort of peroneal nerve palsy, with the nerve supposedly misfiring from up in my leg down to my foot, resulting in loss of coordination and strength in my foot and leg. Wonderful. Yes, I drag my leg when I run now so it makes sense. He referred me to ANOTHER person to do nerve tests, but I'm going to wait to see what my doctor next week says.
I'm ready for progress instead of things just getting worse and worse with my running. I think that's the source of my frustration. I'm profoundly disappointed in myself and how things have gone with my running over the past several years. It's not like I ever knew my PRs would be my ultimate PRs and then they'd be done. But I've fallen so far off where I used to be, and as hard as I want to work to get back there, I just can't seem to find the right formula to get there. My mind still sometimes thinks I'm the runner I used to be, but my body reminds me I'm not. Seven years have now passed since my high point and it seems so long ago and I feel so broken.
It's just a hobby, and there's so much more to life, but it eats at me when I can't seem to grasp the goals I've set for myself. I don't know if my foot will get better and if I'll still be able to train the ways I used to and do the things I like to do -- tempos, track workouts, hills, etc. I seriously don't have motivation problems, which makes it worse. The winter is rough, but I don't dread the cold and don't see it as an excuse. I would love to be out there busting my ass to work toward my goals if my foot would just cooperate. It kills me to hear others complaining about the weather, or motivation, or having to go to the treadmill. Guess what arthritis apparently also hates? The treadmill. Actually, who am I kidding -- it hates running all together right now.
I sometimes wish I could barter with the universe over injuries....take away this pain and I'll take a week of the flu and a cavity, for example. Pure nonsense. The body will do what it needs to do and sometimes I need to stop and listen more, I guess. I'm just at a loss for what to do, though. I've had stress fractures, and I know after 2-3 months you'll generally be all healed up with a stronger bone, to boot. What about a creaking, inflamed joint that feels like it's reached its breaking point, though? My husband pointed out earlier that I'm going through something many of us will go through...but I'm about 50 years too early.
I'm just not ready to give up yet. Lately I seem to ask myself so many questions on every run. How much more can you take? Why are you out here? What do you even want from this anymore? How is this enjoyable when it hurts so much? Then I imagine just choosing to stop and not do it, and I can't. I need a doctor to tell me exactly what to do with this. I think that's the twisted thing about running in general...we push and push, even when it sucks, because we hope it will pay off somewhere down the road. I keep running like I'm chasing the ghost of my old self and goals and investing in my fitness, just hoping it will pay off somewhere in the near future, when I'll also hopefully be done with these ailments.
Onward and upward.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
I Declare It's Not Too Late to Do a Race Recap from October 2013
It's about time I updated this blog. I've been waiting for the perfect time and opportunity, but I don't even know what that looks like. Nothing's ever going to be perfect so why wait around? I read plenty of blogs updated on a regular basis so I need to get with the program!
Since I last posted, I ran the Detroit Marathon, #13 for me. It wasn't the best and wasn't the worst. I had a good attitude about it all, which I was pleased about -- I didn't have a mental meltdown when I knew I wasn't gonna be near my goal. I knew I wasn't anywhere near PR shape (it was beyond obvious for quite some time), but I had goals. And it was my first race in a Oiselle singlet, so I was pumped! There's something about wearing it and knowing there are many others across the country (hell, I think we also have a few overseas) wearing it, too. It's such a great community to be a part of and the singlet reminds me of this. Sisterhood in sport, indeed.
I almost forgot to mention the excitement at the start. As is often the case with marathons, I think many more port-o-potties were needed. My husband and I (he also ran) walked the almost-mile to the start from our hotel and promptly got in line. I think we had an hour to go before the race. We waited 30 minutes before we made it to the front. At this point, we were ready to get our stuff to the gear drop and then would make our way to the corrals (he was in B, I was in C...and they extended very far back due to the number of runners and races happening at once, including a half marathon and a marathon relay). There was just one problem: I knew I'd have to go again. We made our way to the gear check but I knew I had to get in line again. Derek wisely wanted to warm up, so we bid adieu and I headed off to the lines, and waited. And waited. It became so nerve wracking and I really, really tried hard to stay calm.
As it turned out, I was peeing as the horn went off to signal the start of the race. That's something I hope to never go through again! I ran like a crazy person through the crowds. I could hear them signaling the start of each corral as they advanced up to the start line. I think I hopped a fence at some point and jumped in with corral E, which was just about to cross the start line. My marathon warm up was a sprint, and I came to a sudden stop as I walked with the crowd, moving as one. Then, we were off!
The cool thing about this race was that fact that it started before sunrise, and we then got to watch the sun come up as we ran into Windsor, Canada. We hit a pretty substantial hill around mile 3 as we climbed up, up, up and over the bridge into Canada. I didn't have much of a plan for these early miles other than to keep the effort easy and hopefully 8:20s would feel ridiculously slow and I would be able to gradually pick it up throughout. Things were okay, but not great. I kind of curse my use of a Garmin...I've only run one other marathon with one, and if you're not mentally strong, they can really mess with you. My pace was all over the place - too fast, too slow, but then the too fast felt too hard and I secretly hoped it wouldn't, and...well, you get the picture. I just tried to calm down and enjoy things.
Around mile seven, you drop into a mile-long underground tunnel. The temp went from in the low 40s to suddenly much warmer when we dropped underground -- I was dripping. Then, we climbed back out into cool temps again and a really strong breeze and BOOM! I felt like all the energy washed out of me. Get it together, get it together, I thought. Then, a bathroom break a couple miles later. I realized I was in a daze and dilly-dallying. Get it together, I thought! It was quite bizarre. I didn't have the urgency or the panic I often do. I just wasn't on my game but felt oddly "whatever" about it.
Somewhere not too long after I made the official decision to not fight things. I have had some miserable marathons where I fought beyond the point of being able to salvage a decent race. And you know what? Sometimes you have to strike that balance between pushing yourself and prematurely killing yourself, or digging your own grave for later in the race. I scaled back my pace to an effort that seemed sustainable for the day--I just wasn't feeling it. Disappointing, yes, but I made peace with it quickly. I started walking through water stops--I was ridiculously thirsty!--just to make sure I could stay even and finish all right. My goals shifted...a sub-3:35 finish became just keep it under 4 hours. I'd managed to run all my marathons under that until this point, so this seemed like a good goal given how flat and crappy I felt.
The good news is, when many around me seemed to be hitting the wall after mile 20, I managed to feel the same I'd felt 10 miles before: not great, but what had felt awful at mile 10, seemed decently appropriate for mile 20, if that makes sense. I'd managed to maintain an even feeling of crappiness and was going to make it through! My slow shuffle made me feel like I was flying around many who were walking, which gave me a warped sense of "picking it up." Hey, whatever works. A highlight then came at mile 23 or 24 (I forget), when we came off an island and around the corner, and I caught the eye of a spectator -- who happened to be Kevin Hanson from Hansons-Brooks. Finally, my rainman-like quality for knowing names in the running community paid off when he shouted encouraging words and gave me a boost. "Thanks, Hanson!" I yelled back (I admittedly didn't know which brother it was at the time and had to do a Google image search just now).
Eventually, races end, and mine did in 3:52. Far off my goal but I kept my streak alive. The older I get and the harder running gets, the more this means to me because I know it might not always be possible. My husband was at the finish, having finished long before me, and my parents were there, as well. It wasn't even 11 a.m., and we had the whole day ahead of us. It turned out to be a great trip and I have very positive feelings about the whole race experience, even if it didn't go well. In fact, I've been drawing on a lot of those feelings as I work through some bumps in my training this winter...but that's another post.
Since I last posted, I ran the Detroit Marathon, #13 for me. It wasn't the best and wasn't the worst. I had a good attitude about it all, which I was pleased about -- I didn't have a mental meltdown when I knew I wasn't gonna be near my goal. I knew I wasn't anywhere near PR shape (it was beyond obvious for quite some time), but I had goals. And it was my first race in a Oiselle singlet, so I was pumped! There's something about wearing it and knowing there are many others across the country (hell, I think we also have a few overseas) wearing it, too. It's such a great community to be a part of and the singlet reminds me of this. Sisterhood in sport, indeed.
I almost forgot to mention the excitement at the start. As is often the case with marathons, I think many more port-o-potties were needed. My husband and I (he also ran) walked the almost-mile to the start from our hotel and promptly got in line. I think we had an hour to go before the race. We waited 30 minutes before we made it to the front. At this point, we were ready to get our stuff to the gear drop and then would make our way to the corrals (he was in B, I was in C...and they extended very far back due to the number of runners and races happening at once, including a half marathon and a marathon relay). There was just one problem: I knew I'd have to go again. We made our way to the gear check but I knew I had to get in line again. Derek wisely wanted to warm up, so we bid adieu and I headed off to the lines, and waited. And waited. It became so nerve wracking and I really, really tried hard to stay calm.
As it turned out, I was peeing as the horn went off to signal the start of the race. That's something I hope to never go through again! I ran like a crazy person through the crowds. I could hear them signaling the start of each corral as they advanced up to the start line. I think I hopped a fence at some point and jumped in with corral E, which was just about to cross the start line. My marathon warm up was a sprint, and I came to a sudden stop as I walked with the crowd, moving as one. Then, we were off!
The cool thing about this race was that fact that it started before sunrise, and we then got to watch the sun come up as we ran into Windsor, Canada. We hit a pretty substantial hill around mile 3 as we climbed up, up, up and over the bridge into Canada. I didn't have much of a plan for these early miles other than to keep the effort easy and hopefully 8:20s would feel ridiculously slow and I would be able to gradually pick it up throughout. Things were okay, but not great. I kind of curse my use of a Garmin...I've only run one other marathon with one, and if you're not mentally strong, they can really mess with you. My pace was all over the place - too fast, too slow, but then the too fast felt too hard and I secretly hoped it wouldn't, and...well, you get the picture. I just tried to calm down and enjoy things.
Around mile seven, you drop into a mile-long underground tunnel. The temp went from in the low 40s to suddenly much warmer when we dropped underground -- I was dripping. Then, we climbed back out into cool temps again and a really strong breeze and BOOM! I felt like all the energy washed out of me. Get it together, get it together, I thought. Then, a bathroom break a couple miles later. I realized I was in a daze and dilly-dallying. Get it together, I thought! It was quite bizarre. I didn't have the urgency or the panic I often do. I just wasn't on my game but felt oddly "whatever" about it.
Somewhere not too long after I made the official decision to not fight things. I have had some miserable marathons where I fought beyond the point of being able to salvage a decent race. And you know what? Sometimes you have to strike that balance between pushing yourself and prematurely killing yourself, or digging your own grave for later in the race. I scaled back my pace to an effort that seemed sustainable for the day--I just wasn't feeling it. Disappointing, yes, but I made peace with it quickly. I started walking through water stops--I was ridiculously thirsty!--just to make sure I could stay even and finish all right. My goals shifted...a sub-3:35 finish became just keep it under 4 hours. I'd managed to run all my marathons under that until this point, so this seemed like a good goal given how flat and crappy I felt.
The good news is, when many around me seemed to be hitting the wall after mile 20, I managed to feel the same I'd felt 10 miles before: not great, but what had felt awful at mile 10, seemed decently appropriate for mile 20, if that makes sense. I'd managed to maintain an even feeling of crappiness and was going to make it through! My slow shuffle made me feel like I was flying around many who were walking, which gave me a warped sense of "picking it up." Hey, whatever works. A highlight then came at mile 23 or 24 (I forget), when we came off an island and around the corner, and I caught the eye of a spectator -- who happened to be Kevin Hanson from Hansons-Brooks. Finally, my rainman-like quality for knowing names in the running community paid off when he shouted encouraging words and gave me a boost. "Thanks, Hanson!" I yelled back (I admittedly didn't know which brother it was at the time and had to do a Google image search just now).
Eventually, races end, and mine did in 3:52. Far off my goal but I kept my streak alive. The older I get and the harder running gets, the more this means to me because I know it might not always be possible. My husband was at the finish, having finished long before me, and my parents were there, as well. It wasn't even 11 a.m., and we had the whole day ahead of us. It turned out to be a great trip and I have very positive feelings about the whole race experience, even if it didn't go well. In fact, I've been drawing on a lot of those feelings as I work through some bumps in my training this winter...but that's another post.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Ode to My Foot
I'm seven days away from marathon #13, and the biggest worry on my mind right now is my left foot. No, not the award-winning Daniel Day Lewis movie...my actual left foot. My battered, worn-out, geriatric-looking foot that has been through stress fractures, plantar fasciitis, a ruptured posterior tibial tendon that was replaced with a tendon from my big toe and the latest: arthritis in my big toe and in the midfoot joint back behind the big toe. In the past year, the arthritis has made itself known, and that it's not leaving -- and it's been a battle. So much so that I didn't do the spring marathon I was signed up for when the pain really flared up. A couple of cortisone shots later, I salvaged a summer of okay training, and I've gotten to this point where I'm ready to go.
And with that, I want to thank my foot. That same foot that I curse time and again and that has cost me so much money and heartache, and the foot that sometimes won out and convinced me to do one less rep, or cut the tempo short. It reminded me that training is a balancing act, and walking a fine line between injury and improvement.
Dear old foot, you look like you're 85 years old, far beyond your 33 years on this earth, with bony, exaggerated joints and a scar as evidence of the wear and tear you've endured. You don't like to be woken up quickly and heaven help the person who relies on you for too many repeats on the track -- turning left is NOT your favorite thing. You've carried a body for thousands of miles, through multiple adventures and glorious PRs, and led the way to cherished friendships and a marriage. And aside from running, you were also obedient to ballet positions, soaring jumps and endless turns, showing your versatility to not only run miles, but dance.
It's understandable that you'd be a little worn out and battered. You've lived through enough adventures and experiences to make for a wonderful life so far. You helped me achieve goals I never imagined, and I'm thankful for that in more ways than one. In fact, you taught me to never give up or underestimate myself, and now I get to apply that same lesson to dealing with you. I will never underestimate you, despite how you look or how achey you feel. I know you're capable of so much.
And with that, I want to thank my foot. That same foot that I curse time and again and that has cost me so much money and heartache, and the foot that sometimes won out and convinced me to do one less rep, or cut the tempo short. It reminded me that training is a balancing act, and walking a fine line between injury and improvement.
Dear old foot, you look like you're 85 years old, far beyond your 33 years on this earth, with bony, exaggerated joints and a scar as evidence of the wear and tear you've endured. You don't like to be woken up quickly and heaven help the person who relies on you for too many repeats on the track -- turning left is NOT your favorite thing. You've carried a body for thousands of miles, through multiple adventures and glorious PRs, and led the way to cherished friendships and a marriage. And aside from running, you were also obedient to ballet positions, soaring jumps and endless turns, showing your versatility to not only run miles, but dance.
It's understandable that you'd be a little worn out and battered. You've lived through enough adventures and experiences to make for a wonderful life so far. You helped me achieve goals I never imagined, and I'm thankful for that in more ways than one. In fact, you taught me to never give up or underestimate myself, and now I get to apply that same lesson to dealing with you. I will never underestimate you, despite how you look or how achey you feel. I know you're capable of so much.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
When Training Gets Real
As soon as the calendar turned to the month of September, things got real. I'm running the Detroit Marathon on Oct. 20, and holy crap -- it's time to get serious. That's not to say I haven't been training or following a plan -- I have -- but I've found there's always a point during marathon prep where it's like a switch flips, and the workouts and long runs are numbered, and damnit, there's an urgency to make everything COUNT.
For this marathon, I went back to a friend who has coached and guided me through numerous marathons and other races, including the PR summer of 2006, as I affectionately call it in my mind, when everything clicked and we both got more and more excited with each race and corresponding PR leading into the mother of all races for me, the Chicago Marathon. I set a 14 minute PR, broke 3:10 and felt unstoppable! Injuries unfortunately sidelined me off and on for years, and I tried some other things as I tried to claw my way back. I always found myself thinking back to what he had taught me, though, and the training he had guided me through. As a result, I went back to him and June and asked if he could help me again.
If there's one thing I've learned through my training experiments over the years, it's that enthusiasm and belief are critical. Without them, there's doubt, and running becomes a chore. My friend has always believed in me and has made running FUN, always lending a word of encouragement no matter how blaaah a workout may go.
We started off in June and he told me bascially this: Forget the runner you were, and what you've done before. You're starting from scratch. Do what I tell you, even if it looks a bit crazy, and this just may work.
My number one strategy for "starting from scratch" was going Garmin-less. My friend lives at altitude and is a stud runner himself and has always had me do the majority of my runs by time and effort. Up until a couple years ago, I didn't have a Garmin. All of my PRs -- marathon included -- were run Garmin-less, as was all the training leading up to them. However, in recent years, I'd become OBSESSED with mileage, pace, etc. Turns out that's the express route to crazy town -- at least for me. And the switch was definitely needed. I ran all June and July without a Garmin, and my gawd, it was BLISSFUL. Try it some time.
My friend was also honest with me: I have lost a lot of the turnover I once had. In theory, this helps you run more efficiently. Lose your turnover, it becomes harder. So, June and July were dedicated to getting it back. My first time on the track in a year was to do just a couple of 200s and 400s -- and untimed, just to get the feel of them and not be worried about time. It was PAINFUL. I put on my racing flats for the first time and my arches screamed. My hips and hamstrings felt like they needed an oil can to get moving more quickly. I remember emailing my friend after. "That felt so awful," I said. "Don't worry," he told me. "It will get easier."
So, every Tuesday, I've headed to the track in the early morning for workouts that have increasingly grown longer, but always kicked off with several 200s. I admittedly feel like an old lady doing these. But the times are coming down, even if it's sometimes ever so slightly, and I'm seeing glimpses of my old body and ways of running (sorry, I can't totally forget about the runner I used to be!).
My other workout of the week is typically a long tempo -- my NEMESIS. Something about tempos has always messed with my head. First of all, I used to always run them at more of a 10K-type effort -- and without a Garmin. Then, I started doing them with a Garmin...and WAITWHATAMITOOSLOWOMGTHISHURTSHOWCANICONTINUEOW! (Just a glimpse into my crazy brain during a tempo.) Yes, I can sometimes lack focus...and that's kind of critical for running long. I need to work on it, because I know tempos are what will help my fitness the most. It's just that sometimes, they also suck the most.
For the rest of the week, my run times have slowly been creeping up, and now I've got my midweek 90 minutes and 60-70 minute runs for the other days. And then, of course, the long run on Sunday.
If I can complete this training, I should be in decent shape to get the marathon done. I'll be honest: I've done 12 marathons and my goal isn't to just finish another one. I want to run strong, not fall apart, and have my training and hard work shine through. Don't we all, right? I'm not like my husband and other people I know, who can all go out for a run and get lost in the miles and then "oops, I got lost in the run ran 12 miles after work and it was so EASY!" I'm pretty aware of where I'm at in a run almost always. I enjoy training, but I like to be done. And the marathon distance never gets any less daunting to me.
SOOO, as training for this month heats up, I'm fully aware that this is it -- this is the time to get it done. I've got a hell of a ways to run next month, and I'd like to run strong, and maybe accomplish a couple goals I've got in my head, as well. ;)
Onward and upward, friends.
For this marathon, I went back to a friend who has coached and guided me through numerous marathons and other races, including the PR summer of 2006, as I affectionately call it in my mind, when everything clicked and we both got more and more excited with each race and corresponding PR leading into the mother of all races for me, the Chicago Marathon. I set a 14 minute PR, broke 3:10 and felt unstoppable! Injuries unfortunately sidelined me off and on for years, and I tried some other things as I tried to claw my way back. I always found myself thinking back to what he had taught me, though, and the training he had guided me through. As a result, I went back to him and June and asked if he could help me again.
If there's one thing I've learned through my training experiments over the years, it's that enthusiasm and belief are critical. Without them, there's doubt, and running becomes a chore. My friend has always believed in me and has made running FUN, always lending a word of encouragement no matter how blaaah a workout may go.
We started off in June and he told me bascially this: Forget the runner you were, and what you've done before. You're starting from scratch. Do what I tell you, even if it looks a bit crazy, and this just may work.
My number one strategy for "starting from scratch" was going Garmin-less. My friend lives at altitude and is a stud runner himself and has always had me do the majority of my runs by time and effort. Up until a couple years ago, I didn't have a Garmin. All of my PRs -- marathon included -- were run Garmin-less, as was all the training leading up to them. However, in recent years, I'd become OBSESSED with mileage, pace, etc. Turns out that's the express route to crazy town -- at least for me. And the switch was definitely needed. I ran all June and July without a Garmin, and my gawd, it was BLISSFUL. Try it some time.
My friend was also honest with me: I have lost a lot of the turnover I once had. In theory, this helps you run more efficiently. Lose your turnover, it becomes harder. So, June and July were dedicated to getting it back. My first time on the track in a year was to do just a couple of 200s and 400s -- and untimed, just to get the feel of them and not be worried about time. It was PAINFUL. I put on my racing flats for the first time and my arches screamed. My hips and hamstrings felt like they needed an oil can to get moving more quickly. I remember emailing my friend after. "That felt so awful," I said. "Don't worry," he told me. "It will get easier."
So, every Tuesday, I've headed to the track in the early morning for workouts that have increasingly grown longer, but always kicked off with several 200s. I admittedly feel like an old lady doing these. But the times are coming down, even if it's sometimes ever so slightly, and I'm seeing glimpses of my old body and ways of running (sorry, I can't totally forget about the runner I used to be!).
My other workout of the week is typically a long tempo -- my NEMESIS. Something about tempos has always messed with my head. First of all, I used to always run them at more of a 10K-type effort -- and without a Garmin. Then, I started doing them with a Garmin...and WAITWHATAMITOOSLOWOMGTHISHURTSHOWCANICONTINUEOW! (Just a glimpse into my crazy brain during a tempo.) Yes, I can sometimes lack focus...and that's kind of critical for running long. I need to work on it, because I know tempos are what will help my fitness the most. It's just that sometimes, they also suck the most.
For the rest of the week, my run times have slowly been creeping up, and now I've got my midweek 90 minutes and 60-70 minute runs for the other days. And then, of course, the long run on Sunday.
If I can complete this training, I should be in decent shape to get the marathon done. I'll be honest: I've done 12 marathons and my goal isn't to just finish another one. I want to run strong, not fall apart, and have my training and hard work shine through. Don't we all, right? I'm not like my husband and other people I know, who can all go out for a run and get lost in the miles and then "oops, I got lost in the run ran 12 miles after work and it was so EASY!" I'm pretty aware of where I'm at in a run almost always. I enjoy training, but I like to be done. And the marathon distance never gets any less daunting to me.
SOOO, as training for this month heats up, I'm fully aware that this is it -- this is the time to get it done. I've got a hell of a ways to run next month, and I'd like to run strong, and maybe accomplish a couple goals I've got in my head, as well. ;)
Onward and upward, friends.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Head case
I ran a lackluster 5K today results-wise, but it's one I've done every year since 2008 and it's kind of become a tradition for my husband and me, and it's a lot of fun, regardless of the time. It was already in the mid-80s and humid as all get out at start time, and it's hilly, and I can think of a million excuses for why it was about a minute slower than what I thought I was capable of at this point in my training. But, the only person who really cares is me, and it's time to get over it and move on. Besides, I'm not training for a 5K...I'm training for the Detroit Marathon and I have a lot of work to do.
Anyway, I was exchanging texts with my coach about it afterward and lamented about how it's not as easy as it used to be -- it being running the times I was running about 6-7 years ago, and even further back, when I ran with abandon and no concept of limits. His response: If you want it, get after it.
I'll tell you what: that statement slapped me upside the head. My head has become my worst enemy in recent years, after injuries and challenges that have sometimes seemed like they're reversing my progress. And most of the time, where I fall short is when I have the opportunity to make a choice about truly "getting after it." I've eased up on workouts at paces I didn't think I could handle without even giving them a chance, and I've cut the number of reps short for fear of injury; I've raced and stayed in "places" I thought I belonged because I lacked the confidence to maybe go around someone I'd gotten used to finishing behind.
Injuries and a couple of "down" years can really mess with your confidence and create doubt. My best times came when I didn't think about times, paces or places and just ran hard. It's so simple but I think the biggest challenge for me has been getting over the initial disappoint and realization that I'm not there anymore at this moment. I think I've gotten too caught up in focusing on that, though, and not just forging ahead 100 percent toward a goal really getting after what I want.
It's high time I stop doubting and start dreaming again and not thinking, but just doing.
Anyway, I was exchanging texts with my coach about it afterward and lamented about how it's not as easy as it used to be -- it being running the times I was running about 6-7 years ago, and even further back, when I ran with abandon and no concept of limits. His response: If you want it, get after it.
I'll tell you what: that statement slapped me upside the head. My head has become my worst enemy in recent years, after injuries and challenges that have sometimes seemed like they're reversing my progress. And most of the time, where I fall short is when I have the opportunity to make a choice about truly "getting after it." I've eased up on workouts at paces I didn't think I could handle without even giving them a chance, and I've cut the number of reps short for fear of injury; I've raced and stayed in "places" I thought I belonged because I lacked the confidence to maybe go around someone I'd gotten used to finishing behind.
Injuries and a couple of "down" years can really mess with your confidence and create doubt. My best times came when I didn't think about times, paces or places and just ran hard. It's so simple but I think the biggest challenge for me has been getting over the initial disappoint and realization that I'm not there anymore at this moment. I think I've gotten too caught up in focusing on that, though, and not just forging ahead 100 percent toward a goal really getting after what I want.
It's high time I stop doubting and start dreaming again and not thinking, but just doing.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
New Beginnings
Wooo-eeee...it has been a LONG time since I updated this! So, what have I been up to...hmm. Not much. Well, actually, I've run a couple marathons since I last updated this, but not as many as planned. Had a massive elbow injury in 2009 that required surgery. Had a couple of stress fractures, got mono, couple other setbacks...that's it on the injury front! Now for the good stuff!
I got married earlier in the summer -- DEFINITELY a highlight of my life, as it should be. Life's been chugging along real well over the past five years for sure, since I last updated this. On the running front, I recently took a chance on an opportunity I would have never imagined I'd have just a few months ago. I now run for the Oiselle Volee team, a group of women across the country representing Oiselle, my favorite women's running clothing company and all that it stands for. Just check out the team manifesto. I am so honored and excited to be among those chosen to help represent Oiselle and carry out its values.
I'll be honest -- my running has been very up and down since 2007 and I've wrestled with the question, why do I run? As mentioned in earlier entries, I had a pretty major injury in 2007 that was a turning point for my life. Prior to the injury and the very long layoff that followed it, distance running came pretty easy. I put in the work, and the improvements followed like a perfect trajectory. I qualified for Boston on my second try. I chopped off chunks of time and, frankly, took it for granted.
Unfortuantely, I also took my health for granted, and didn't treat my body well. I wasn't kind to it and continued to push it despite nagging injuries and a tank always close to "E." When I got injured, I had to re-evaluate everything, and I've been working on this transformation ever since.
Today, I don't run for PRs that are "just around the corner." I have hopes that I can get back to PR shape someday, but it's no longer with the "at all costs" mentality. I sacrificed a lot back then and lived a life always teetering out of balance. I'm a happier person now, and while my most recent marathon was about 31 minutes slower than my PR, it was among my most joyful -- and the way I plan to continue to run. I now run for health, camraderie and because I simply can't imagine not doing it. Nothing beats the feeling of pushing yourself just a little more than you thought you could -- no matter how fast or slow it is in relation to where you may have once been.
During one of my injury layoffs, I remember saying, "I'll never complain or take a run for granted again." I can't say I've held true to this, but I'm a lot more cognizant of it these days, and thankful! I can't wait to carry this out as part of the Oiselle team. I'm thankful for the past, but looking to the future, and so glad I get to take flight with the rest of the birds!
I got married earlier in the summer -- DEFINITELY a highlight of my life, as it should be. Life's been chugging along real well over the past five years for sure, since I last updated this. On the running front, I recently took a chance on an opportunity I would have never imagined I'd have just a few months ago. I now run for the Oiselle Volee team, a group of women across the country representing Oiselle, my favorite women's running clothing company and all that it stands for. Just check out the team manifesto. I am so honored and excited to be among those chosen to help represent Oiselle and carry out its values.
I'll be honest -- my running has been very up and down since 2007 and I've wrestled with the question, why do I run? As mentioned in earlier entries, I had a pretty major injury in 2007 that was a turning point for my life. Prior to the injury and the very long layoff that followed it, distance running came pretty easy. I put in the work, and the improvements followed like a perfect trajectory. I qualified for Boston on my second try. I chopped off chunks of time and, frankly, took it for granted.
Unfortuantely, I also took my health for granted, and didn't treat my body well. I wasn't kind to it and continued to push it despite nagging injuries and a tank always close to "E." When I got injured, I had to re-evaluate everything, and I've been working on this transformation ever since.
Today, I don't run for PRs that are "just around the corner." I have hopes that I can get back to PR shape someday, but it's no longer with the "at all costs" mentality. I sacrificed a lot back then and lived a life always teetering out of balance. I'm a happier person now, and while my most recent marathon was about 31 minutes slower than my PR, it was among my most joyful -- and the way I plan to continue to run. I now run for health, camraderie and because I simply can't imagine not doing it. Nothing beats the feeling of pushing yourself just a little more than you thought you could -- no matter how fast or slow it is in relation to where you may have once been.
During one of my injury layoffs, I remember saying, "I'll never complain or take a run for granted again." I can't say I've held true to this, but I'm a lot more cognizant of it these days, and thankful! I can't wait to carry this out as part of the Oiselle team. I'm thankful for the past, but looking to the future, and so glad I get to take flight with the rest of the birds!
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