Remembering a Teacher

This is off topic from my standard running fare but a personal blog is as good as any place to share some thoughts and reflections after some recent news.

Let me set the stage. In college, I was a hot mess in many ways (the same could probably be said for my 20s in general, frankly). By the start of my sophomore year, I was at my third university (UW-Madison) and without a clue as to what to do with my life. After lacking any direction whatsoever for what seemed like forever, two beacons emerged to help me start to navigate through things: running and writing. And despite continued struggles, they remained constant sources of stability, hope and enjoyment for me throughout the duration of college.

Writing in particular led me to try some journalism classes, and before I knew it, I was majoring in journalism. It didn’t feel like typical “school” or leave me asking, “what’s the point?”  I devoured my classes and all the J-school offered. I even took on a part-time job affiliated with the J-school, just to learn and soak up more.

Central to all of this, of course, were my professors. Professor Baughman was among my favorite. His passion for the written word and the history of journalism were undeniable—and if you weren’t captivated by his lectures, you weren’t listening. He had a wit and sophistication about him that made his lessons so interesting and funny, and he was also incredibly friendly and clearly loved his students and what he did.

I took as many of his classes as I could and knew I had found my calling. I honestly don’t know where I would be or what I would be doing if I hadn’t found journalism, and his classes in particular. He made me want to be a better writer and to tell stories that mattered. He made me realize history is filled with lessons for the future.

As I neared the end of my senior year, I applied for jobs from coast to coast—and within both the news reporting and public relations industries, thanks to my completing both tracks within the J-school out of sheer paranoia about being able to find a job. Keep in mind it was also months after 9/11, and market prospects were questionable, to say the least. I desperately wanted to be the kind of journalist my schooling had trained me to be; the kind of writer my teachers like Professor Baughman had helped me realize I could be, and how I could bring light to important stories by simply putting pen to paper, so to speak.

The first job offer I received was from a PR agency, and nearly 14 years later, it’s still the organization I’m proud to call my employer. I didn’t become that breaking news reporter, and I’m not writing in-depth features to bring attention to an under represented issue or population like I had once imagined. I have, however, found a rewarding career related to my degree that enables me to tell stories — and, more importantly, I can point back to the lessons of Professor Baughman and confidently say I still carry them with me today.

Speaking of “today,” or the present in general — that leads to what drove me to write this post, which admittedly has become a bit rambling. On Friday, I happen to see via Twitter the announcement that Saturday, March 26 (the next day), would be Professor Baughman Day in Madison, in recognition of his contributions to his students and the university. Madison Mayor Paul Soglin issued the proclamation, noting that he had “committed his students to the legacy that ‘the great state University of Wisconsin should ever encourage that continual and fearless sifting and winnowing by which alone the truth can be found,’ ” –the latter part of the statement being in reference to a quote on a plaque outside a university building, according to the Wisconsin State Journal.

It turned out Professor Baughman was in the hospital for a serious illness. Not knowing anything else, I had a brief moment of panic, stopped everything I was doing, and quickly typed up an email to him. I hadn’t seen him since 2002 and hundreds of students later, I’m sure he wouldn’t remember me (with maybe the only reason he would being my unusual maiden name). But I felt the need to let him know how much impact he had on my life, and how appreciative I was for what he had taught me. I also congratulated him on James Baughman day and let him know I would be observing and celebrating it from St. Paul.

Sadly, Professor Baughman passed away the next day (Saturday), and I don’t think he saw my email. The news hit me hard, and was a huge loss to the university and so many people whose lives he touched. I also am sorry for the legions of future students who won’t have the opportunity to learn from him. In an era of fragmented media outlets and what oftentimes seems a disdain for the past in order to keep things fresh and relevant, voices like Professor Baughman’s are so needed for the next generation of journalists, reminding us that the core fundamentals of good writing, and telling a good story — and ultimately shedding light on the truth—will never change.

After not thinking much about college or the lessons from it for so many years, I realized how important my teachers were in helping me get to where I am today—especially Professor Baughman. I am forever grateful.

R.I.P., professor.

Running Revisited: TC-10 Recap and Remembering Why I Do This

It's been a year since I updated this blog, and since this is a running blog, here's the quick rundown: I ran a bunch of 5Ks in my quest to continue racing and enjoying running -- while staying injury free. And it's worked pretty well! Life is pretty good and I've mostly stayed on the horse, so to speak. I'm very grateful for that.

So about those 5Ks...I haven't had a desire to run longer, really. Training for a 5K can be just as challenging as a marathon, in my opinion, since it's a different kind of hurting. It doesn't get the respect it deserves, but I've enjoyed it immensely. I still do long runs but there's plenty of faster stuff, too, and it just feels good. I've loved training for a race, running it and if it doesn't go well, hey! Try again next week. It satisfies that small desire in me to keep following structured training and doing something (un)comfortably challenging every now and then.

That leads up to yesterday, the TC 10 Mile -- my longest race in two years. My last race longer than 5K was the Detroit Marathon in 2013, and then I had foot surgery in 2014. Yesterday's race was the culmination of a FANTASTIC weekend that had other fun happenings. I'm now one of the Oiselle Volee team leaders, and with my co-leader Jana, planned a pre-race shakeout run and breakfast on Saturday before the race for Oiselle team members in town for the TCM events. I met so many new people and was blown away by the enthusiasm and support of our group. I've been a part of the Oiselle team for a little more than two years now and have always known this is a special group, and it's been so awesome as we add new people to see the support and friendships grow. I'll have to write separately about this some time and can't say enough about this group and how much it has rejuvenated my running. Thank you to all who came.

Back to the race: I had very modest expectations. I broke my 5Ks-only streak signing up for this because it is an EVENT. Twin Cities in Motion puts on a spectacular series of events on marathon weekend and I wanted to take part! So, I did more 10-mile-specific training to get ready, but that didn't mean too much to me in terms of my confidence. I have trained for other races and then executed really poorly, which typically means going out too fast and then dying a miserable death. There was a time a long time ago when I didn't do this and ran faster than I do now. But I'm trying to get past that and run for different reasons now, knowing that my PRs may be behind me and I have to find joy in other things if I want to continue this.

So, onto the race! Race morning was fantastic. I carpooled with my friends Nordica and Angie to the start, where we met up with Casey and Taylor to warm up. It was about 45 degrees--crisp, but AWESOME running weather. The mood was light and fun. My mindset was perfect.

Fast forward to the start.We saw Nicole, who was starting in the championship field, and all wished each other good luck before getting to our spots. I knew Angie, Nordica and Taylor would all be running faster (huge congrats to all three for PRing, by the way), so I tried to find a spot a little further back, where I subsequently ran into Oiselle teammate Lisa to my left and high school friends Sarah and Ian behind me. Slightly ahead to my left, I saw Jenny and Carrie and we all waved. Further down to my left, Jason (who was running the marathon) hopped up on a ledge to take pictures, and smiled and waved. THIS is what is awesome about our running community--the people! I felt surrounded by friends and excitement. It was wonderful.

Soon we were off. Now, my goal going in this race was to run around 75 minutes. I've done this race once before and it was unfortunately a miserable experience, though, so I was cautious in setting that goal. In 2013, when I last ran it, I went out too fast, and by mile 5, when you hit Summit Ave., I was TOAST. Thus, one of my goals for this year was to keep it controlled for the first half to avoid repeating that awful experience, and hopefully come close to my goal. Since I hadn't run a race longer than 5K in two years it was tough for me to imagine how I would feel.

I immediately took stock of things and was happy with how it felt. It felt faster than a training effort but it was a pace I knew I could build on, which was ideal since the race is really hilly in the first half. If you pace it well, you can pick things up in the second half to really take advantage of the downhill to the finish. I should note I didn't have a Garmin on; it's one of the big changes I've made to how I run races and it worked pretty well. I honestly don't know how I would have run if I had one on. I think I can be a bit of a head case when racing and all the feedback I seem to need is what my body tells me. Anyway, I went through the first mile in 7:31 (I took splits manually on my stopwatch) and was pleased.

The subsequent miles were fairly uneventful. I tried to keep my effort even and continued to take my mile splits. Focusing on effort seemed to work, and miles 2-7 were 7:14, 7:27, 7:11, 7:33, 7:36, 7:32. You can see where the hills were and while I would like to see those all closer to that 7:11 mile, I was pretty happy with how things were going; the other miles were much more in line with what I expected to run. 

Between miles 7 and 8, the course has a nice downhill into a fairly long flat stretch. It's here where I saw the TC Running Company cheer zone where Derek was spectating with Kurt, Adam, Kim, Chad and whole bunch of other people and HOLY HELL was it exciting. I could hear them (and the music) from several blocks away and felt my knees lift a little higher and my pace pick up a little. I yelled back at them when I ran by and Derek claims I did a double fist pump. I don't remember that but know I was excited to feel so good and see them all. A block or so later I passed the mile 8 marker in 7:09. Perhaps I should work on lifting my knees like that more often.

Between miles 8 and 9, there's another slight rise in the road and I was starting to get that sense of "just get this over with." I passed mile 9 in 7:28. Between miles 9 and 10, the course turns left and then after a few blocks it's a pretty long downhill into the finish, which can be pretty great if you're feeling good or pretty torturous if you're not, since you can see the finish for quite a while. I don't remember much at this point except for the thought that hey, this felt a lot better than the last time I ran it! My 10th mile clocked in at 7:07, and my official finish time was 1:13:49, which is 5 seconds faster than what I had on my watch.

After I finished I found Nordica, Angie, Casey and Nicole and soon learned they all ran PRs. Amazing! We had a celebratory beer (thank you Summit) from the beer truck and rehashed our races...and then hurried to run back to mile 24 to watch the marathon with the TC Running Company crew and my Oiselle friends who were also able to join. Cheering at mile 24 has become an annual event, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to run the marathon again because I love cheering with this crew so much. It was a great way to cap off a fun race morning and reminded me of everything I love about this sport: the people you meet along the way who are all trying to be the best version of themselves at that point in time. I don't know what's next, but I'll carry the joy and fun of this day with me for a long time.

I snagged the following pictures of our Saturday Oiselle meet up off Facebook...thanks to Melissa for the pre-shakeout run shot!

It's Good to Be Back.

Oh, hey. What, you don't remember me? It's been four months?

Four months since my last post! Basically, four months and boom, we're at the end of summer. Four months and I'm older...and wiser...and running! So how about a running update for the running blog?

People, let's be real. I've been injured a lot in the 20 years I've been running...because of both freak accidents and also my own bone-headed doing (over zealous training, running through small issues that eventually became big deals, etc.). And that's led to a lot of angst, heartache and cursing of this I-hate-this-stupid-sport-but-not-really-I-can't-quit-I-miss-it hobby that's really more of a lifestyle, in all honestly. But I've never felt so positive and clear-headed about the sport as I do now, and here I am, three and a half months back after 12 weeks out and a very slooooow build up.

Here's what the comeback has looked like. I started up at the end of May, with my first "run" consisting of 7 X 1 minute of running alternating with 3 minutes of walking. My husband and I went for a walk along the river to kick off this momentous occasion, but I honestly contemplated doing it in street clothes because it seemed like such a laughable thing. I put on my running clothes, however, and off we went...and later that night I felt like I had run 20 miles, as every single little tendon in my foot seemed to be whining at me, backed up by a chorus of groans from my quads and hips. And I hadn't been sitting around during my layoff, either! Running is no joke...welcome back!

The next month or so was a couple steps forward, a couple steps back. In the second week of June, I was up to 30 minute runs and on a business trip out for a run one morning when my calf pulled ON MY GOOD SIDE. The universe can be a cruel prankster...or you can have inbalances in your body. I'm going with a mix of both. This was followed by 10 more days off and another slow build back up once everything seemed better. 

My husband signed up for a 10K for the 4th of July, and one morning a week before, following the first run in weeks in which my calf didn't pull, I got a wild urge to sign up for the companion 5K, so I did. Now, this may seem like a mundane thing...and it is. But up until this point I had never run a 5K without having a solid base under me, along with months of workouts. As a mid-distance runner in high school and part of college, 5Ks were my entree into the world of road racing and for a large part of my running life, I only knew how to run them HARD and when you were in shape. Something made me super excited for this silly little 4th of July 5K, though...I hadn't run with a Garmin since January (hello running by time...still the best way to ease back into running) so I had no idea what pace I had been running. But I knew it would probably be my slowest ever, and I was okay with that. Not having a whole lot of running fitness under my belt made it exciting to me to get a TRUE sense of where I was. Only goal: hopefully run it all!

With that goal in mind, the 5K was a great success. I didn't walk, and ran one of my slowest ever -- second only to the 5K I ran when I had mono...and more than 4 minutes of my PR. But it was SO. MUCH. FUN. No Garmin, no expectations and the feeling of pushing myself like that was something I hadn't felt in a very long time. My recovery was officially in motion.

About six weeks later, I was up to 10 miles for my long run (estimated, as I was still running on time and hadn't turned on the Garmin yet) and actually running with people--people I had run with pre-injury who I had so longed to get back to running with, including my good buddy Nordica (the best! Hi Nordica!). And I hit this milestone right around the time I was fortunate enough to get to go to Bend, Ore. for a running camp with my fellow Oiselle ambassadors -- check out the gorgeous photo collage here. It came just at the right time. Throughout the 12 weeks post-surgery, being ready for camp was what I was really concerned about when it came to getting back to running. I had paid for my trip, and I really wanted to be able to take part in everything at camp and not be slowed by fitness or any lingering pain. 

Fortunately, I timed my build back just right and everything was fine. Camp was just the type of experience I needed in my running life at that point...for four days, we were treated to motivational talks by wonderful runners, expert-led discussions, miles of beautiful trails and lots of fun bonding time with a really inspiring group of women from all walks of life I quickly came to know and love. Lauren Fleshman gave a goal-setting talk when afternoon, and I found myself all choked up at the notion of setting meaningful goals for you and not setting goals based on what others do or believe is important. Here I was, in a ballroom listening to a runner I've been a fan of for 10 years and at a point in my running life where my PRs are eight years old and I'm again coming back from injury. I've already touched on this before, but I've had to find motivation and enjoyment elsewhere in running as I'm so far off my PR times for the time being and realize I may never surpass them. It was just what I needed to hear, though, as I try and look for other ways to feel accomplishment and joy from running.

Later that night, we actually ran a 5K sponsored by a local brewery. And wouldn't you know, I ran a minute faster than I had on the 4th of July and was elated. I didn't give much thought to being three minutes off my PR and was genuinely excited and proud for once. I'm still working on this mind shift, but it was a good step.

I'm now a month past my time in Bend, and I've just started doing workouts from my old friend who's now helped my running for 10 years. He's seen a lot and I'm thankful he's still willing to help me out when I'm not as fast as I once was but still want to try my best and see how hard I can push myself. My long runs have topped 13 miles now for the past two weeks and I can say I haven't felt this good in at least two years, but that's largely due to the fact that I was running on one foot for so long. Two feet can help a lot in running! I feel the desire to train toward a race and I'm starting to think long term again. It's fun, and I'm loving the feeling of pushing myself again and meeting up with friends. I'm not sure what's next, but it's good to be back.

Oh So Close

Hello! Since I last blogged about how to survive an injury (when I was smack dab in the middle of it), I've gone from a crutching, booted-up injured runner to a bootless, WALKING runner. Progress! And now, here I sit, 10 weeks past surgery and two weeks from the official, okay-to-give-it-a-go-with-running turning point in my recovery. Eeeee!

I'll recap where I'm at, where I've been and what I'm looking toward. I'm excited but I'd like to think I'm also realistic. Ten weeks is a long time away from running alone, and you lose fitness. Throw in the fact that I have hardware in my foot now, which -- by the way -- got extremely weak when it was in the boot, and I know my first return to running will be short, sweet, cautious and uncomfortable. But I've been doing what I can to set myself up for success, including physical therapy twice a week plus strength exercises at home to transform my foot from flopping around like a dead fish when I walk, to actually providing support and stability to my body to propel me forward.

I've mainly stuck to the bike for cross training but added more elliptical in the past few weeks as my foot got stronger. And yes, I'm very sore from it and it's humbling, but oh-so-good. I also got a Groupon for a month of unlimited yoga at Core Power Yoga here in the cities and have been hitting up yoga sculpt classes a couple times a week to address all those weaknesses I tend to ignore when I'm in the thick of training (bad, I know). I've remained active and have actually really enjoyed it. I know running will still be hard and feel foreign once I return, but I'll embrace the natural pain of getting back into it and know I'm not injured anymore!

Soon I'll hopefully be able to talk about how a run felt, as opposed to how I imagine it will feel. And that is so, so exciting.

An Update & Tips for Surviving Injury -- Surprise! Not Running Won't Kill Ya!

Greetings from the healing front! Since I last wrote, it's been a good almost three weeks of vacationing, healing and getting back into the swing of a painkiller and cast-free life following the initial first couple weeks of post-surgery haze. A quick recap...

Shortly after my last post, I drove 20 hours with my husband to the Florida panhandle for his spring break (teacher). This turned out to not only be a great R&R opportunity, but also a remarkable way to kick-start the next phase of my healing, since I had just had my cast removed. The highlights: Good eats and lots of sun. Our days were simple, as they usually are...a morning run (for him) and a trip to a cute little beachside fitness center (for me) where I purchased a three-day pass. This hadn't been anything I had planned for or anticipated...my husband is training for Boston and logging big miles and I figured I'd have a couple hours each morning to lounge around and do whatever. But when I saw the opportunity to work out in a nice little gym, I figured I'd kick-start my cross training in earnest when Derek was out running. It worked out great...I got to bike while catching up on trashy reality t.v. 

We then spent our afternoons at the beach, where I soaked up some bone-healing vitamin D. I was the only person on the beach with crutches and wearing a boot (from what I can tell), and I have a sweet tan line to show for it, but it was super relaxing and enjoyable. I slept and read Unbroken (read it!). Wonderful. 

That brings me to today...I've got a week of normal, in-office working under my belt (I'd mostly worked from home for the couple weeks following surgery) and I'm back in a pretty decent routine. Most notably, I'm no longer using the crutches much around the house, and when I have the boot off for showering or bed, I've actually been able to walk without it and not feel any pain -- though I've been keeping the weight on the outside of my foot and not pushing much off the ball, since I don't have the okay to do that yet and I am ALL ABOUT doing this recovery right. As for cross training, I've got that deal through my insurance where I have to go to the gym a certain number of times a month to get a discount, so it's kept me going. I've been riding the bike -- upright and recumbent -- and working the mind-numbing arm bike every now and then. The routine of going to the gym got me thinking about what gets me there and what keeps me motivated and sane while dealing with this long recovery. And with that, here's my running list of tips and tricks for dealing with injury and cross training...I reserve the right to edit and add to these as I think of them...

1. Cherish the gift of time. Good news! Time heals...and time doesn't stop! Take comfort in knowing you'll eventually heal if you give it time. Now, in my case, I needed surgery because time wouldn't heal...nothing would without surgical intervention. But! Now that I've had surgery, time will heal! And with that...don't forget to take your time! I've had my share of races ruined by injuries that kept me from even starting. Several marathons, in fact. It sucks -- the time and financial investment is huge. But there really will always be another race, if you do the healing thing right and give it TIME. That actually leads to my next point...

2. When it comes to running, change your view from short- to long-term. I completely went against this in 2007 with my last major injury -- a ruptured posterior tibial tendon. I was coming off a great fall in 2006 and running the best times of my life and was training to break three hours in the marathon. Then, I developed bad tendonitis. I never fully committed to taking time off and was like a runaway train, on the cusp of meeting my goal and in a panic to keep training and racing to achieve it, running as if it was my last chance ever and just taking a half-assed approach to dealing with my nagging tendonitis that eventually came back to bite me way worse than I would have ever imagined. The ironic thing is, I truly never have run as well as I did then, but guess what? Much of it is due to injury derailment--including that major injury, which knocked me out completely for six months (zero running), followed by many more months of slowly coming back. Other things have popped up that have changed how I've trained and what I've achieved, but I can most definitely say that my short-term view on running and goals was a detriment to my health and running at the time. Fast forward to this most recent injury -- my lisfranc injury that led to surgery. When it became an issue, I immediately thought, what do I want out of running for the remainder of my life? I could deal with missing races and workouts and much of a racing season if it set me up to be able to run well into the latter years of my life. This is a lifelong thing for me, and so I had to commit to it as such. Don't shoot yourself in the foot (haha) to achieve some short-term goal or because you're afraid of taking a step back and losing fitness. Commit to what will keep you strong in the long term.

3. Running injured sucks. Be honest with yourself: if you're perpetually in pain and dealing with a chronic issue, how long are you willing to deal with it? When will it stop? The short-term disappointment of not being able to run is COMPLETELY worth it for healthy running later on. Trust me. And really, are you running to your full potential with that chronic pain? Probably not.

4. You don't have to lose ALL fitness and semblance of athleticism when injured. Yes, not running will make you lose running fitness. There's no getting around that. Even if you cross train perfectly and remain fit, nothing will totally be the perfect substitute, so just accept it. But if you had it once, you'll get it back eventually if you're willing to work for it again like you once were (and I bet you're willing!). We runners can be narrowly-focused on our running and all its various forms and poo-poo cross training (GUILTY AS CHARGED!). However, at the very least, it can be a nice outlet for energy in place of running, and you can even get a decent workout! My dear friend Nicole once gave me a really simple tip I've carried with me through many injuries as I try and navigate the maze of equipment at the gym: keep the resistance low and just focus on getting your heart rate high. This advice was actually passed along to her from a 2004 T&F Olympian who ran some great races off of running and cross training, so I paid attention. That goes for the elliptical, the stationary bike, the arm bike...you name it. Don't "mash gears," as the cyclists say, or throw yourself into the elliptical trying to move what feels like sumo wrestler resistance. Keep it low and aim for high intensity. I've been following this on the bike, the only thing I can really do, and have been pleasantly surprised by the sense of accomplishment I'm able to achieve given the effort required for some of the bike sessions I've done. Simply focusing on moving my legs with a high RPM has enabled me to get my heart rate in the 150-160 range. Of course it's not running, but if you're looking for a good workout, just focus on heart rate and I promise it will help fill the void at least a little!

Also, don't underestimate other things you'll have to do because of injury...for me, crutching around has actually proven to be a decent workout! A trip to the grocery store with my husband, for example, is like a trip to the weight room. 

5. Connect with others for support. My Oiselle teammates have been amazing sources of strength and support as I recover, as have my running friends who have checked in and simply helped keep me connected to that world I'm currently not "running" in. And, I'll be completely honest--being around others who don't run and aren't focused on anything related to running is also therapeutic and a good way to remind yourself that there is so much more to life, and this, too shall pass. 

6. Keep perspective. I will never short change the power of running and its ability to change lives, empower people, and transform relationships and how we see ourselves. BUT, life without it for a period of time in the name of healing is okay in the long run. It's temporary, and it's also a good time to take stock of the balance in your life. In the grand scheme of life, this will just be a small blip on the radar. In a month, six months or year, you probably will barely remember this time.

What am I missing? Stay healthy, friends!

Reality Bites (Ouch!)

First off, I hate that I have no running updates for this running blog. As I mentioned before, I'm hoping documenting my recovery from joint fusion surgery in my foot -- which I did to hopefully return to pain-free living and activities, including running -- will help keep me motivated and provide a good way to track my progress and hopefully not make too many mistakes. I've also never been good about cross training and know I better get used to it if I want to maintain any fitness during this layoff, so a blog should be an interesting way to see how things unfold. Anyway...

My big return to working from the office today instead of from home wasn't as magical as I thought, simply because it HURT. As I mentioned in the update at the bottom of my last post, my cast came off this morning and I went straight to work. Like a fool, I had this idea that the cast was the closing of a significant chapter and things would get easier. Unfortunately, they haven't. And me not being smart about this meant I brought a giant purse to work. Pro tip: Don't carry a big purse while on crutches. If it doesn't get tangled with your body and the crutch and cause you to feel like you're about to trip any moment, it will fall down to your elbow...and cause you to feel like you're about to trip any moment. Let's just say that I ditched the purse in my office drawer when I left at the end of the day and just put my wallet and phone in my laptop backpack.

I guess the bigger issue with today was I went with my natural tendency to PUSH PUSH PUSH and jumped back into a normal day. That included not having my foot elevated for the majority of the day (I finally broke down due to the pain at the end of the day and put my feet up on my desk while I read through some materials I had to review). I've had my foot elevated for the majority of the day for the past 12 days, so this was a bonehead move. I also tried doing a little walking on my heel without my crutches (going to the printer, going to the water cooler), which was a little too ambitious. The result: I left work a little early because I was in the most pain I've been in since I had surgery. The days immediately following surgery, when I had a giant foot with big swollen sausage toes, weren't even this bad! I had this idea this morning when I left for work that I'd even stop by the gym on my way home to do a little stationary biking. Nope. I came straight home, put my foot up and removed the air cast and my sock. My foot is more swollen than it was when I came out of my hard cast this morning, and I've got more bruising than I remember (including purple toes).

I clearly overdid it this morning and today was a huge reality check. This isn't going to be quick and easy. Of course it's not. I intellectually know that but my natural inclinations go against it and I don't make the best decisions when it comes to these things. I can't wait to return to running but I can't jeopardize my recovery by rushing it like I did. I'm going to have to re-evaluate my approach and take it even easier than I thought...

Any surgery recovery tips or experiences out there to make me feel better? Any recommendations for getting good cross training in when you're severely limited in what you can do?

Surgery Recovery Week 2: Coming Out Of The Haze

I'm finishing up week two of surgery recovery (Wednesday will be two weeks since the day) and am happy to say I've left the house twice during that time--once on Saturday and then this evening to go to the gym for the first time since the surgery (more on that later). Yes, I stayed inside for 10 straight days. Now, before you go thinking this is disgusting, let me describe the scenario: I was on a steady diet of percocet every 4-6 hours for several days and oxycontin every 12 hours. I'd say it wasn't until Sunday after my surgery I could eat at the table and stay awake more than an hour at a time. Drugs and surgery recovery are no joke!

Monday a week ago I "went back" to work, which meant I crutched over to the dining room table around 7:30 or 8:00 a.m., logged on to the network, IM and email, turned on my phone, propped up my big ol' casted foot and leg on a chair next to me and got to work until 5 or 6 p.m. It was tough in the first few days to keep up with my expected levels of productivity while fighting through the tremendous fog--I'm not going to lie! One day I was especially crabby and tired of the situation and ventured out to the back stoop of the house for the first time in a week. I sat there for five minutes, breathed in the fresh air and felt rejuvenated, but also like I had just slept through an entire week while the world moved on.

By Friday, as the pain pills were dwindling and the hours between dosages got longer, I not-so-coincidentally felt like I had my clarity back and actually could get into a work groove. And, I started to have that feeling of "AHHH, I just want to MOVE and get outside and be active." I consider that a good thing and totally normal that I made it that long before feeling that way. People had asked earlier how I was doing and how long before I could cross train or whatever, and honestly, the first several days post surgery I was so nauseous and drowsy, changing my clothes was enough "cardio." My surgeon had said two weeks after surgery, when I get my cast removed (which is tomorrow), I could start riding a stationary bike. Hooray.

But really, I've been looking at this as a two week break. As runners, we can be very disciplined and regimented--guilty as charged. So much so, in fact, that we often  don't consider a run a true workout or effort without hitting a certain number of miles. A long run might not be anything less than 90 minutes, for example, or a run might not be worthy of a mention unless it's at least five miles. At times in my life, I've been there. And I do think you have to be disciplined and regimented when going after specific goals. But this time has been good for me to just let go. Not let go in the sense that I completely fall off the wagon nutrition-wise, but honestly, a couple weeks of rest is okay -- especially after surgery. And it's been pretty nice!

This evening, though, I made my triumphant (okay, not quite) return to the gym. Because I'm still on crutches and going to the gym in the afternoon means having to park in the far corners of the lot and hike in, my husband was kind enough to take me there and drop me off at the door (nice!). He then went for a run and said he'd be back in about an hour. Knowing this, I had to figure out what in the world to do with myself. I can't exactly bike with this foot-to-top-of-my-calf cast on, nor can I do anything standing, obviously. My option: the devil exercise machine, the arm bike. Since it took some time for me to crutch in, go to the locker room and take the elevator up to the workout floor, I figured Derek would be back now in less than hour. So I sat and just pedaled with my arms. And pedaled. And holy hell, is that thing hard. Three minutes in I was searching for an exit and in my panic formed a plan: alternate directions every five minutes and hand positions after every set (forward and back). And, alternate hard and steady efforts every minute. I'll tell you this: It was boring as all get out.

One hour later (actually 15 seconds before I hit the hour mark), Derek strolled up and I was done! It was very convenient timing and I ended up on that thing much longer than I would have expected. I realized the downfall of this when I stood up to crutch away -- my arms! -- but all in all, it felt good to move and sweat a little. (Okay, that's not the first time I've sweat -- there have been mornings when I've felt the beads of sweat forming on the back of my neck as I crutched around trying to get ready for the day after Derek has left for the work...but whatever.)

Tomorrow, I have my first post-op check up and I am OH SO EXCITED at the prospect of hopefully getting my cast off. I believe I get to have my stitches removed, and in order to do that the cast has to come off, so let's hope it stays off! I've had an itch I've wanted to scratch for almost two weeks now...

UPDATE AS OF 3-10-14: Had my appointment and saw my foot for the first time since surgery. Not going to lie -- my vanity got the best of me and I was a little grossed out by not only my ugly, scarred up foot, but also HOW MUCH MY CALF SHRUNK. Ugh. Got the cast and stitches removed and graduated to a removable air cast, so...progress! But, I still have to use crutches because I'm only supposed to put weight on my heel (trust me, my foot has already told me when I'm not and it isn't happy when that happens). This made for a somewhat challenging walk into work...I had a backpack and a too-big purse and by the time I got to my desk, my foot was throbbing and I had broken a sweat. But, I know it will get better. I go back in four weeks when they'll take x-rays and I can hopefully graduate from the aircast and start bearing more weight. The PA said the surgery involved a bone graft and fusion so those bones still have a lot of healing to do.

Commence Recovery!

I'm going to make this brief because the cocktail pain pills I'm currently on have turned me into a spacey, no-attention-span and slightly nauseous blob, and I don't trust myself to write too much at the moment. But I wanted to document the "highlight" of the past week: Foot surgery! I checked in on Wednesday morning at 6:00 a.m., went under at 8:30 a.m. (complete with a "take a couple deep breaths"....and that's all I remember) and was home by 11 a.m.! Yep, it was that quick, and from all accounts, it went well. I now have a plate and screws between my first and second metatarsals, back at the midfoot joint where they intersect, which will hopefully heal into a rock-solid, stabilized joint that will be able to withstand all the activity I want in the future.

At the moment, I'm in a cast and crutching around. I haven't left the house since I got home, but that's all right -- I can only stand to have my foot in a non-elevated position for about 10 minutes max before it starts throbbing and the cast begins to feel too tight due to swelling. This will eventually subside, and for now I'm just trying to live in the moment and not worry about too much besides letting it HEAL. It dawned on me this morning that I was injured before, and I'm not "injured" anymore...I'm fixed, and now my body is finally healing!

I have my first post-opp appointment on March 11, when I'll get my cast off and my stitches removed. My surgeon told me on Wednesday I can then start biking (hello, spin classes!), and he thinks I'll be ready to start running 12 weeks post-surgery. So, basically like the recovery time required for a stress fracture. I can do this!

I'm going to try my hardest to document my recovery so I can maybe learn a thing or two from it. It probably won't be very exciting--especially during these first few days/weeks (seriously, the pain pills I'm on are the most "interesting" part). But it will be nice to look back on it in six months or a year when I'm hopefully super healthy and this is all a distant memory.

The "Gift" of Surgery

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Back on the horse

Less than a month into the whole blogging thing and already I'm behind schedule! Anyway, I think I last left off describing the beginning of a game-changing injury for me in June 2007. I ruptured my posterior tibial tendon and ended up having the tendon replaced and my calf also operated on to keep the injury from happening again. I had what's called a gastrocnemius slide, in addition to the tendon surgery, in order to lengthen my chronically tight calf, which led to an abnormal amount of strain on the tendon that eventually resulted in a rupture. That injury had me out from June to December 2007.

Coming back was hard because of my new biomechanics and basically a new calf that needed to get strong again. I gradually built back up, though, and did a couple of 5Ks. I was signed up to run the Philadelphia Half Marathon this November, but some weird calf pain curtailed my plans. One doctor though it was popliteal artery entrapment; another thought it was compartment syndrome. Seven appointments and six weeks later, I had a slew of negative tests and orders from a doctor to return to running. It was weird -- I'm a classic overdoer, so docs usually tell me to stop running through pain. This doctor, though, wanted me to see if I could trigger the compartment syndrome symptoms again, at which point he'd then have me come back in for the testing and possibly eventually surgery.

Well, three weeks later and I'm back at it, thankfully! I have no immediate goals at this point yet other than to get the mileage back up. I feel slightly foolish after all those doctor visits and the runaround I got; was it just an overreaction? I was in a lot of discomfort, that I know. But I'm glad to be back at it again!

Here's how last week looked (Christmas week):

M/12-22: 52 minutes (5 below in Chicago -- Brr!)
T/12-23: 47 minutes
W/12-24: 32 minutes (back in MN; Lake Phalen + side loops)
Th/12-25: 31 minutes (same as yesterday)
F/12-26: 49 minutes (Summit/St. Claire loop)
Sa/12-27: 50 minutes (deceiving; run was broken up by walking due to very icy conditions on what seemed to be every sidewalk)
Su/12-28: 38 minutes (River/52 bridge)

Total for week: About 37 miles or so

So far, the week is off to a pretty basic start. I didn't have to work today but went to the gym early. My chest hurt during yesterday's run; Derek suggested maybe they hurt after running several days in very cold weather that I wasn't used to running in since I was off for six weeks. Taking this into account and the fact that I seem to have caught a cold led me to try the treadmill. Frankly, I wasn't too motivated and was feeling pretty congested and cruddy, so I called it a day after three miles. Better than nothin', I suppose!

The Beginning

Here goes...

This marks the first post of my running blog. I have another blog that I've contributed to for more than a year now. This blog, however, has been on my mind for even longer than that. But I've always been able to talk myself out of it, until now...

So why a running blog? Good question, especially since I'm hardly running right now. I hardly have in six weeks and doing so in the immediate future (at least) seems, well, pretty questionable...or, dare I say it, doubtful. I've been a runner since I was 14 years old, so this is a frustrating time for me. I've had more frustrating times than this, but I think what would have made me feel better during those times was writing about it, which I didn't do. As a result, I'm going to try it again this time, and this time I'll do it differently. I'll chronicle my road through this frustration, and maybe come out feeling better.

Everyone says I'll come out of injury stronger. Having been through a fairly major injury a little more than a year ago, I know I physically did NOT come out of it stronger -- at least not at first. Maybe with more time, more miles, I'd be back to it. I do know that it didn't come easy again. I think mentally I had a better perspective on things, though, so my hope this time is to build on that and become mentally tougher when I take on training and going after goals again. If there's anything you can gain from injury, it's the sense that you were able to go through the low lows and still work your way back to your fightin' shape, so nothing's impossible. I can't wait 'till I can work my way back.

Let me take a step back, though, and summarize where I've come from. I look at my running in phases.

High school: sprinting/middle distance; one of many activities that I enjoyed (along with dance, gymnastics, music). I took part in track and cross country, but track was my favorite. I especially loved my lead-off position on my school's 4X400M relay team.

College: middle distance/first tastes of long distance; a safe haven among the trials and tribulations and drama that accompany the years between being 18 and 22. I learned what it felt like to run so hard you blacked out (the only way I'd lie on the ground of a public restroom) and learned what it meant to commit to something and follow through on a goal, through good times and bad. It was also my first time being injured and being forced to take a substantial break, thanks to first plantar fasciitis and then a stress fracture in my metatarsal. And with injury comes cross training... or a necessary evil, as I viewed it.

Post-college: Post-college running gets complicated when I try to summarize it or pick out any overarching theme. I ran my first marathon in the fall of 2002, five months after graduation. It was an awful experience when you look at how I physically felt... When I was done, I can remember feeling a sense of "great, she's gotten it out of her system; maybe now she'll stop," from others in my life. But no...I wanted to do it bigger, better, faster, and I couldn't wait to get another shot at it.

Eight months later, better prepared and ready to right a wrong, as I saw it, I ran a 22 minute PR, qualified for Boston, and catapulted myself into a new obsession. I had a great group of training partners, I'd just obliterated my PR, and, as I saw it, if I just committed myself like I had the previous go 'round, maybe I'd make the same leaps and bounds the next time around, and then the next...it was almost overwhelming to think about what was possible, it was just so exciting.

If only it were that easy!

In between qualifying and running Boston, I ran a sub-par NY marathon. Just a fluke, in my optimistic mind. I bounced back and began training for Boston under the guidance of a coach and with the zeal of an eager artist in front of a blank canvas. Boston 2004, unfortunately, was 85 degrees and sunny, so slower than I'd hoped, but an absolute blast. I continued to ride the high through a PR two months later in my fifth marathon, followed by my sixth -- another PR race -- four months later.

That spring I ran Boston again, followed by Grandma's. I don't remember my times from either but do remember disappointment. My definition of success didn't match what I was running. I wasn't meeting my expectations, and something had to change.

I trained that summer under the guidance of a new coach, determined to continue on the trajectory I'd envisioned. Unfortunately, a freak injury one week before TCM 2005 knocked me out of the race. Two weeks later, feeling somewhat healed and as if I had all this fitness and nothing to do with it, I entered another marathon, ready to try it again, and experienced my first DNF. I was tired, and it was time for a break.

Spring 2006. Train, train, train....tired, more tired, exhausted. My times got slower, I got more frustrated. After about two months of that, I went to the doctor and learned I had mono and just like that, no spring marathon. I was devastated at first, having placed so much focus on what was becoming a tradition for me, but quickly got over it as I slept the days away.

Then, something strange and unexpected happened...as I recovered and regained my strength, I got faster. It was as if all the training finally caught up to me and started paying off again.

That summer, I trained harder than I had before. There's not much to say other than that I got myself to a point that left me hungry and excited about running. I think this interview sums up where I was pretty well. Who is that person?

A great fall led to an exciting spring, with lots of potential. I set off to break three hours at Boston, of all races. Yes, it may have been a bit aggressive to go for a PR on course like that, but I was fit, determined and ready to try. A lot of people remember Boston 2007 for the Nor'easter and remember it as having awful conditions. Not me. The weather was perfect for a Minnesotan who was coming off of months of cold winter training. What wasn't perfect was the situation with my upset stomach. Four pit stops or maybe five-- I can't even remember exactly -- and I missed my goal on what can easily be called a "characted building" day.

It's humbling to set off on such an aggressive goal and then have things rebel against you half way. I finished in something like 3:22, and I remember being disappointed but telling myself that if I could run that time sick, with multiple stops, no less, than I had to be happy. Just give me a good day, I thought...I've gotten myself to a new level.

Just give me a good day. Less than two months later, while running, I felt a pop around my ankle that exploded into pain that stretched down to my heel. I'll never forget that moment. It's also the moment where one phase ends, and another begins.

More tomorrow.