My second run (4 miles) last week was great! I was just running comfortably no worries about pace or anything else. The ankle was quiet, and yes, it was really fantastic to remember what it feels like to run with nothing hurting. I ended up running 8:30-ish minute miles. Speedy for me! So that's the pace that feels comfortable when nothing hurts. Good to know!
Tonight's run was not as good. I planned 5.8 miles, but had to stop running at about 3.8. I ran a little after that but ended up walking the last mile in. I didn't get the usual sharp pain from the ankle, but something a little more "muted" if that makes any sense. It still hurt enough to let me know I needed to stop, but it just wasn't the same intensity as usual.
I was particularly sad to have it end because I'd been pacing two guys behind me. They'd fallen behind me at one point, but eventually seemed to be making it a point to catch up, and then keep up, with me. So I hung steady for a while. Then I very slowly started picking up the pace....and after a while left them behind with a short sprint. I slowed and was going to let them catch up and start again, but my run didn't last much longer before I had to call it done. Ah well. It was fun while it lasted.
At least now, at home, my foot is completely comfortable. No lingering ankle pain/limping for the rest of the evening. That's something.
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Monday, December 13, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
This is your ankle on steroids
Back in June, I had my ankle X-rayed and was told that yes there was a bone spur causing "anterior ankle impingement," and perhaps an injection into the ankle could help atrophy some of the scar tissue around the spur and thus relieve my pain. At the time, I thought I had a mostly pristine ankle, and the injection proposed made me nervous. Nothing I'd learned from my research confirmed that the stuff to be injected was some magic potion that could atrophy scar tissue without also atrophying the healthy tissue in there. Afraid that I might cause more harm than good, I decided to wait on the shot.
Several months, two doctors, and an MRI later, I was essentially told the same thing. Only this time I was ready for it. First, the news came from a doctor I trust. Second, because of the MRI, I now have a fuller picture of the situation. I now know that my ankle joint is hardly pristine. It's already mussed up in there with osteoarthritis. So my fear that they could put something in my ankle that might damage it-- well, it's already damaged so I figure there's no harm in trying the steroid injection.
Essentially this is the first step before potentially moving toward surgery. It is possible that the steroid breaks the cycle of pain/inflammation, and allows everything in there to calm down enough that the pain goes away forever. Yes, forever. (I'm praying for this option and invite anyone willing to do the same!!) Or, the pain could go away and return in a matter of months, simply reaffirming that we're looking at the right spot. Anyway, if the pain returns, the surgeon says yes, surgery is a possibility. Yes, it could fix everything. Or it could not. It's hard to say, but the specificitiy of the pain does bode well for the efficacy of surgery. But the first step, before doing surgery is to try a steroid injection.
I'm cautiously optimistic. At the very least it suggests that I should be able to run without pain for some period of time. (I'll test that theory tomorrow.) It's been a long time, so I'm pretty excited about the prospect. If this gives me a chunk of time without ankle issues, I also expect to get a not insignificant amount of grief from my husband and my running partner, both of whom thought I should have gotten the shot when it was first suggested six months ago. Oh well. Getting some mental buy-in to the whole process should only make things go more smoothly than had I done it while thinking that I was doing something harmful. We will see what happens in the coming days/weeks.
Several months, two doctors, and an MRI later, I was essentially told the same thing. Only this time I was ready for it. First, the news came from a doctor I trust. Second, because of the MRI, I now have a fuller picture of the situation. I now know that my ankle joint is hardly pristine. It's already mussed up in there with osteoarthritis. So my fear that they could put something in my ankle that might damage it-- well, it's already damaged so I figure there's no harm in trying the steroid injection.
Essentially this is the first step before potentially moving toward surgery. It is possible that the steroid breaks the cycle of pain/inflammation, and allows everything in there to calm down enough that the pain goes away forever. Yes, forever. (I'm praying for this option and invite anyone willing to do the same!!) Or, the pain could go away and return in a matter of months, simply reaffirming that we're looking at the right spot. Anyway, if the pain returns, the surgeon says yes, surgery is a possibility. Yes, it could fix everything. Or it could not. It's hard to say, but the specificitiy of the pain does bode well for the efficacy of surgery. But the first step, before doing surgery is to try a steroid injection.
I'm cautiously optimistic. At the very least it suggests that I should be able to run without pain for some period of time. (I'll test that theory tomorrow.) It's been a long time, so I'm pretty excited about the prospect. If this gives me a chunk of time without ankle issues, I also expect to get a not insignificant amount of grief from my husband and my running partner, both of whom thought I should have gotten the shot when it was first suggested six months ago. Oh well. Getting some mental buy-in to the whole process should only make things go more smoothly than had I done it while thinking that I was doing something harmful. We will see what happens in the coming days/weeks.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
"Run, Walk or Crawl" - Did I really mean it?
I finished the Seattle half today (wearing my Bikilas). I went into it knowing that I wouldn't be able to run the whole thing (thanks to ongoing ankle pain and related lack of training), but planning simply to run as far as I could, and to run/walk the rest (or in a worst case, to call my husband to come get me if my ankle wouldn't tolerate even that). The primary directive was simply to not hurt anything. I was hoping for something along the lines of a good walk/run combo a la my performance at the Bellingham Bay half marathon. Instead, I ended up running 4.5 miles, run/walking the next 2 miles, and then largely walking the rest (I ran less than a quarter of each of the last 6 miles). I once felt some pain while walking, and wondered if I might need to call Wayne to come get me, but that quickly resolved. Thus I was left with a few miles of wondering -- should I just call him anyway? Did I really want to walk 5 more miles? What was the point if I couldn't run the race as I'd actually wanted to do?
I'm not sure I entirely know what the point was. But I decided that I would finish, even if it meant walking, because (1) I'd taken the trouble to start, (2) I'd jokingly told other people leading up to this race "hey, I can walk 13.1 miles if I have to", and (3) because I've been out there cheering on runners and walkers in the past, and one of the chants I'd yell to the walkers was "Run, walk, or crawl! One foot in front of the other!!" So if I didn't think it was worth it for them to give up the race simply because they were walking, I guess that meant I shouldn't either.
I am sure there was some value in simply not giving up...though I'll see how that is revealed to me as I rethink the race in the coming days. I told myself that I should look at it as a reflection of my refusal to give up on being active and strong even as my running feels like it's slipping away from me. So there's something just in that I suppose.Saturday, November 27, 2010
What Harley has taught me about play
I've been reading a lot lately about the importance not just of exercise, but of rethinking our largely sedentary lifestyles on a larger scale. I've been feeling the effects of being in a job(s) where I sit in front of a computer most days, and am sensing that some change needs to be made. I'm not talking about a recommitment to getting daily exercise (that's an ongoing effort), but a change in terms of rethinking how I do (or don't) move my body through the world each day.
In Change Your Body, Change the World, Frank Forencich argues that part of the problem is the label we put on exercise. What we really need is not "exercise" but more physical movement.
"The problem with exercise becomes apparent as soon as we begin to describe it. That is, exercise consists of doing abstracted movements in a stereotyped, repetitive pattern. In essence, exercise is a specialization extracted from a larger whole, an activity taken out of its natural context...The main problem with exercise is that it's all about sets, reps and mileage: just keep grinding it out until the clock runs out or your trainer tells you to stop. This, of course, is a recipe for physical monotony. And physical monotony, like any kind of repetitive behavior, tends to be hard on both the mind and tissue...
Exercise also fails because stereotyped reps tend to drive out play. The contrast is clear: exercise is about repeitition of known patterns while play is about exploration and discovery. Exercise is about enduring unpleasant sesation; play is about finding delight in diverse movement forms. Exercise is about repeating the known; play is about extending into the unknown. Exercise requires external motivation to maintain participation; play is inherently rewarding and self-reinforcing." (pp. 54-55)
This has come to life for me when playing with Harley. Our little miss Harley loves nothing in this world more than playtime. She frequently sits at my office door, pleading nonstop with her sweet little cries until I finally get up and indulge her in some play. She is an acrobat at heart, and loves jumping and flinging herself into all sorts of contortions to "catch" the little stuffed "mouse" hanging off the springy end of her stick toy. We go down in the basement, where there's plenty of soft spots to land (important since she often gets so excited she doesn't stick the landing), and Harley starts jumping....on the bed, off the bed doing cartwheels, backflips and less-than-graceful kitten jumps that seem impossibly high for her little body. She will go and go until she literally falls over with fatigue. But give her just a few minutes' rest, and she's right back at it. She just cannot resist that fuzzy excuse to jump!
But as much as she loves to jump, and as much as I'm sure she wishes I would spend most of my day waving the springy toy around for her, she never, ever goes jumping around down there on her own--even though she certainly could. She has to have the springy toy and somene flinging it around for her, to make it fun and therefore of interest. And it's not that she prefers "fun" over "exercise." She simply does not do "exercise" at all -- ever -- in the absence of play.
So I've giving thought to my own ideas about "exercise." For as many years as I ran on a treadmill, I've found no joy in it lately. I'd rather be cold and wet and run outside (preferably running newer, less familiar routes), than warm and dry on a treadmill. There was a time and place for the magic treadmill+TV combo in my life, but right now, I'm needing something different. Even in my cycling life, I've decided to spend money on a cold weather riding jacket rather than a trainer that would let me use my own bike as a stationary bike indoors. (We'll see if I put it to good use this winter, but it feels like a choice in the right direction, in any case.)
This all goes along with the whole natural movement/Cross Fit idea that we don't need to spend time in a gym so much as we need to spend time "playing" outdoors. It's compelling to me right now and it's informing some of the smaller decisions I'm making in trying to incorporate more movement in my life (walking to run some errands instead of seeing those walks as taking "too much time." What am I in such a hurry to get back home for? So I can get back to my chair, back to my desk, back to my computer, back to sitting, just like I've been doing all day?). I've also looked into adjustable desks so that I can spend some of my day standing rather than sitting, for example. But in addition to starting with these small steps, I'm also starting to look at how I might change the bigger picture and trade a largely sedentary daily life (even one in which I get regular exercise) for something that allows me to move more. To be healthier? Sure. To lose a few pounds? Maybe. But mostly just to add some more quality to my everyday freelancer life.
In Change Your Body, Change the World, Frank Forencich argues that part of the problem is the label we put on exercise. What we really need is not "exercise" but more physical movement.
"The problem with exercise becomes apparent as soon as we begin to describe it. That is, exercise consists of doing abstracted movements in a stereotyped, repetitive pattern. In essence, exercise is a specialization extracted from a larger whole, an activity taken out of its natural context...The main problem with exercise is that it's all about sets, reps and mileage: just keep grinding it out until the clock runs out or your trainer tells you to stop. This, of course, is a recipe for physical monotony. And physical monotony, like any kind of repetitive behavior, tends to be hard on both the mind and tissue...
Exercise also fails because stereotyped reps tend to drive out play. The contrast is clear: exercise is about repeitition of known patterns while play is about exploration and discovery. Exercise is about enduring unpleasant sesation; play is about finding delight in diverse movement forms. Exercise is about repeating the known; play is about extending into the unknown. Exercise requires external motivation to maintain participation; play is inherently rewarding and self-reinforcing." (pp. 54-55)
This has come to life for me when playing with Harley. Our little miss Harley loves nothing in this world more than playtime. She frequently sits at my office door, pleading nonstop with her sweet little cries until I finally get up and indulge her in some play. She is an acrobat at heart, and loves jumping and flinging herself into all sorts of contortions to "catch" the little stuffed "mouse" hanging off the springy end of her stick toy. We go down in the basement, where there's plenty of soft spots to land (important since she often gets so excited she doesn't stick the landing), and Harley starts jumping....on the bed, off the bed doing cartwheels, backflips and less-than-graceful kitten jumps that seem impossibly high for her little body. She will go and go until she literally falls over with fatigue. But give her just a few minutes' rest, and she's right back at it. She just cannot resist that fuzzy excuse to jump!
But as much as she loves to jump, and as much as I'm sure she wishes I would spend most of my day waving the springy toy around for her, she never, ever goes jumping around down there on her own--even though she certainly could. She has to have the springy toy and somene flinging it around for her, to make it fun and therefore of interest. And it's not that she prefers "fun" over "exercise." She simply does not do "exercise" at all -- ever -- in the absence of play.
So I've giving thought to my own ideas about "exercise." For as many years as I ran on a treadmill, I've found no joy in it lately. I'd rather be cold and wet and run outside (preferably running newer, less familiar routes), than warm and dry on a treadmill. There was a time and place for the magic treadmill+TV combo in my life, but right now, I'm needing something different. Even in my cycling life, I've decided to spend money on a cold weather riding jacket rather than a trainer that would let me use my own bike as a stationary bike indoors. (We'll see if I put it to good use this winter, but it feels like a choice in the right direction, in any case.)
This all goes along with the whole natural movement/Cross Fit idea that we don't need to spend time in a gym so much as we need to spend time "playing" outdoors. It's compelling to me right now and it's informing some of the smaller decisions I'm making in trying to incorporate more movement in my life (walking to run some errands instead of seeing those walks as taking "too much time." What am I in such a hurry to get back home for? So I can get back to my chair, back to my desk, back to my computer, back to sitting, just like I've been doing all day?). I've also looked into adjustable desks so that I can spend some of my day standing rather than sitting, for example. But in addition to starting with these small steps, I'm also starting to look at how I might change the bigger picture and trade a largely sedentary daily life (even one in which I get regular exercise) for something that allows me to move more. To be healthier? Sure. To lose a few pounds? Maybe. But mostly just to add some more quality to my everyday freelancer life.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Wedding + Heels = Ow
I have always enjoyed wearing high heels for special occasions, perhaps in part because I don't have to wear them every day to work, but even that is difficult these days. I have a great pair of otherwise comfortable heels (Clarks) for my wedding coordination days -- the heel is chunky and they have a nice wide toe box -- but after 6 hours in them yesterday, my feet are pretty pooped. (I wore flatter nice shoes for the pre-wedding running around, but even those have a slight heel.) This is no suprise, my feet always take a beating at weddings, and I don't know that this weekend was any worse.
Guess I'll see how the running goes this week. The wedding went well though. It was my first at the Dome Room at the Arctic Club Hotel. It's a beautiful space, and I really enjoyed the couple I was working with. Good times.
Guess I'll see how the running goes this week. The wedding went well though. It was my first at the Dome Room at the Arctic Club Hotel. It's a beautiful space, and I really enjoyed the couple I was working with. Good times.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Chalking it Up to a Healing Blister
1.0 mi BF (Wedgwood)
I was only able to do a mile again today before the ankle started hurting, but now I have a theory as to why. The other night, the skin on one of my blisters/callouses came off while I was 'sanding' down some of the extra callousy bits on my feet (just to clean 'em up a little -- goodness knows I'm happy to have the callouses!). No biggy, it had been there for days so it was plenty healed up underneath, but the new skin is still just that, new skin. So a little tender. And this little spot (if you look back at the photo of my feet from last week) is just under my pinky toe on my right foot. (The one on the other foot never actually blistered, just calloused right up.) So I think the issue yesterday at Green Lake, made more noticeable this morning when running on my rougher neighborhood streets, is that my foot was trying to avoid putting pressure on that still tender skin toward outside of my foot, thus leaving me running more on the inside of my foot. Which is precisely the movement that causes me pain, and thus precisely the movement I've been trying to avoid with all these arch strengthening exercises and such.
I came up with the theory when I had shoes and socks on this afternoon and found that my foot felt much better than it had earlier in the day. Having that tender area protected made me realize just how much it had been aggravating me and affecting my gait earlier. I was going to test my theory by going for a run in the VFFs, which would protect that skin, but since we're planning a long bike ride tomorrow, I figure instead I'll just take the rest of today and tomorrow to let that skin heal. I'll see how it is on Monday before deciding whether to go BF again or take a day with the VFF's.
I was only able to do a mile again today before the ankle started hurting, but now I have a theory as to why. The other night, the skin on one of my blisters/callouses came off while I was 'sanding' down some of the extra callousy bits on my feet (just to clean 'em up a little -- goodness knows I'm happy to have the callouses!). No biggy, it had been there for days so it was plenty healed up underneath, but the new skin is still just that, new skin. So a little tender. And this little spot (if you look back at the photo of my feet from last week) is just under my pinky toe on my right foot. (The one on the other foot never actually blistered, just calloused right up.) So I think the issue yesterday at Green Lake, made more noticeable this morning when running on my rougher neighborhood streets, is that my foot was trying to avoid putting pressure on that still tender skin toward outside of my foot, thus leaving me running more on the inside of my foot. Which is precisely the movement that causes me pain, and thus precisely the movement I've been trying to avoid with all these arch strengthening exercises and such.
I came up with the theory when I had shoes and socks on this afternoon and found that my foot felt much better than it had earlier in the day. Having that tender area protected made me realize just how much it had been aggravating me and affecting my gait earlier. I was going to test my theory by going for a run in the VFFs, which would protect that skin, but since we're planning a long bike ride tomorrow, I figure instead I'll just take the rest of today and tomorrow to let that skin heal. I'll see how it is on Monday before deciding whether to go BF again or take a day with the VFF's.
Friday, September 25, 2009
10th Barefoot Run - One Step Back
0.8 mi. BF (Green Lake)
After a week of more-consistent-than-some-weeks strengthening exercises, productive chiropractic visits (my tight lower back is feeling considerably better than it has for three weeks), and short runs, things seemed to be moving along well this week. But today my heel was noticeably on the sore side. As I headed out to Green Lake, my foot was feeling like it had just finished a run even though I was just getting started. Just over a quarter mile in, the ankle was pretty uncomfortable, and by 0.8 miles it was downright painful. That was going to be it for the day.
Since I ended up walking back to the car, I took the opportunity to do some work on my soles by walking on the (pebbly!!) dirt path. Ouch! Yep, that definitely had me treading more slowly and gingerly. Eventually I opted for the grass. Reminding myself to focus on what I can do rather than on what I can't, I headed to the gym to get some weight training in. Perhaps the ankle was still a little pooped from the 34 mi. Red Hook ride we went on yesterday (though fortunately it didn't bother me during that ride like it did last week)? Who knows. Even with this not-so-great outing, I still feel good about how this barefooting business is going.
After a week of more-consistent-than-some-weeks strengthening exercises, productive chiropractic visits (my tight lower back is feeling considerably better than it has for three weeks), and short runs, things seemed to be moving along well this week. But today my heel was noticeably on the sore side. As I headed out to Green Lake, my foot was feeling like it had just finished a run even though I was just getting started. Just over a quarter mile in, the ankle was pretty uncomfortable, and by 0.8 miles it was downright painful. That was going to be it for the day.
Since I ended up walking back to the car, I took the opportunity to do some work on my soles by walking on the (pebbly!!) dirt path. Ouch! Yep, that definitely had me treading more slowly and gingerly. Eventually I opted for the grass. Reminding myself to focus on what I can do rather than on what I can't, I headed to the gym to get some weight training in. Perhaps the ankle was still a little pooped from the 34 mi. Red Hook ride we went on yesterday (though fortunately it didn't bother me during that ride like it did last week)? Who knows. Even with this not-so-great outing, I still feel good about how this barefooting business is going.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Giving the Soles a Day Off
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
It's a Stone? It's a Twig? No, It's a Callous!
3.2 mi. BF (Green Lake).
I run Green Lake a lot less often these days than I once did, but I think that's about to change. What a smooth run for barefooting! I made it all the way around and back to my car without my soles screaming. I kept feeling like I was stepping on a pebble under my left foot, though, and kept trying to wipe it away. I finally realized that what I was feeling was a developing callous! I think there's one spot that's still just a little tender, so it feels like something's poking me when it's not. I ran on the grass for a short stint, but stuck mostly to the path. This was easily my best run in weeks, and boy am I grateful for it.
Surface: Super smooth asphalt, so much nicer than Wedgwood sidewalks!
Ankle: Definitely fatigued, but not that painful twinge this time.
Time: 9:40/mi average (considerably faster than my first barefoot attempts of 11:30/mi), with one mile in the middle at 9:01 (which is a good pace for me no matter what's on my feet!).
Oh, and I finally made it into see my chiropractor (Dr. David Weber) yesterday. He adjusted not only my tight lower back, but also my jammed up ankle. That was new.
I run Green Lake a lot less often these days than I once did, but I think that's about to change. What a smooth run for barefooting! I made it all the way around and back to my car without my soles screaming. I kept feeling like I was stepping on a pebble under my left foot, though, and kept trying to wipe it away. I finally realized that what I was feeling was a developing callous! I think there's one spot that's still just a little tender, so it feels like something's poking me when it's not. I ran on the grass for a short stint, but stuck mostly to the path. This was easily my best run in weeks, and boy am I grateful for it.
Surface: Super smooth asphalt, so much nicer than Wedgwood sidewalks!
Ankle: Definitely fatigued, but not that painful twinge this time.
Time: 9:40/mi average (considerably faster than my first barefoot attempts of 11:30/mi), with one mile in the middle at 9:01 (which is a good pace for me no matter what's on my feet!).
Oh, and I finally made it into see my chiropractor (Dr. David Weber) yesterday. He adjusted not only my tight lower back, but also my jammed up ankle. That was new.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
2.2 BF + 37 mi. on the Bike
2.2 mi. BF (Wedgwood). I stopped because the ankle started to twinge, not the soles (though my soles were happy enough to stop). I was surprised to find a slight bruise in the middle of the arch of my left foot - guess I must've hit a small pebble just right. It doesn't hurt at all -- and since it's in the arch, there's no pressure on it when I walk. Interesting....Later in the day I followed this up with a 37 mile bike ride - and faced yet another new challenge. That ankle twingy thing kicked in while I was riding. I've had it happen very briefly, in the first couple of minutes upon returning home from a few long rides, but it's never been an issue while riding. (It's that sharp pain you get when you feel like your ankle really wants to pop but won't). This time it started about 30 min. into the ride, and was with me for the next 2 hours. I am not a fan. I'll be checking in with my sports medicine doctor and/or chiropractor very soon.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Week 2 Barefoot
Sept. 18
Sept. 15
1.8 mi. BF (Wedgwood)
Could've gone longer, but I had an appointment to get to. Besides, I'm happy to let that blistered area heal a bit more.
Sept. 15
1.75 mi. BF (Burke Gilman Trail)
Ah, the Burke feels like Heaven compared to the sidewalks around my house! The blisters were fine since I took a few days off to heal them, but the skin around them was still a bit tender by the time I finished. I stopped because the ankle was hurting, not the soles.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Week 1 Barefoot
Sept. 12
1.5 mi. BF (Wedgwood) I figured out that the sidewalks by the church are smoother than everywhere else, so I included a few loops around that block. I had planned to try 2 mi., but this time had to stop because of the ankle pain, not because of my soles. However, when I got inside, it turns out I was developing a really decent blister on the ball of my right foot by my little toe. So it's probably a good thing the ankle made me stop.
Sept. 11
1 mi. BF (Wedgwood), but felt I could've run a little more. Soles were not an issue right after the run, but were tender a little later. I'm shocked at how much farther I was able to go than just two days ago!
Sept 10
0.7 mi. BF (Wedgwood)
Sept. 9
0.5 mi. barefoot in Wedgwood (tough, tough sidewalks/streets). Soles were stinging and continued to sting for the rest of the afternoon!
1.5 mi. BF (Wedgwood) I figured out that the sidewalks by the church are smoother than everywhere else, so I included a few loops around that block. I had planned to try 2 mi., but this time had to stop because of the ankle pain, not because of my soles. However, when I got inside, it turns out I was developing a really decent blister on the ball of my right foot by my little toe. So it's probably a good thing the ankle made me stop.
Sept. 11
1 mi. BF (Wedgwood), but felt I could've run a little more. Soles were not an issue right after the run, but were tender a little later. I'm shocked at how much farther I was able to go than just two days ago!
Sept 10
0.7 mi. BF (Wedgwood)
Sept. 9
0.5 mi. barefoot in Wedgwood (tough, tough sidewalks/streets). Soles were stinging and continued to sting for the rest of the afternoon!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
New Ache, New Adaptations
I've been running in the VFFs (mostly, though some in the Asics) for the past two weeks, and I've got a new issue cropping up: Ankle pain that runs from the bottom front of my inner ankle (still on the right foot that was diagnosed with PF, of course) up to my mid calf -- but primarily with the pain right around the ankle bone. It seems to crop up right at about mile 3.5 or 4 and is painful enough that I have to stop running almost immediately or else find myself hobbling up the street to get back home.
A little research suggests that I might be having an issue with my posterior tibial tendon (Dr. Google not being a real doctor and all, I'm totally self-diagnosing here). This seems to be an issue that can be caused by weak arches, and since I overpronate slightly and have been wearing arch supports (aka arch weakeners) for years, it's no surprise at all that my arches might need some help.
Full-time barefoot runners (www.runningbarefoot.org) say that you should only run as far as you can run barefoot. Since I'm currently experiencing pain at about the 3.5 mile mark (in the VFFs, not totally barefoot), I'm guessing that means that that's as strong as my arches currently are, and that I need to continue the strengthening/stretching that I've been doing, as well as the short-distance minimalist running to keep working my feet, calves, and ankles (my right ankle has been extremely stiff ever since this PFF business started). One interesting site that suggests that you can strengthen your arches by practicing standing and walking with your arches in neutral position. Sure enough, if I stand with my arches in a neutral position for about 10 minutes, the muscles all up the outside of my legs, and other muscles in my feet and ankles get surprisingly tired! They clearly aren't used to having to work so much to keep my arch strong, but by gosh they are going to learn! I also read that balancing on one foot with your eye closed is a good arch strengthener. Fortunately, I've been doing these all summer. And sure enough, it's amazing at all the muscles and bits that engage in the foot/ankle/leg doing this!
Square One? Naked Feet
In addition to adding more focus on standing and walking with a neutral arch, I'm thinking of taking this barefoot thing from the other direction. Full-time barefooters argue that you shouldn't transition down from shod running, but should rather go the other direction. Get rid of the shoes entirely and start running barefoot, and build up distance and pace as your body allows, aka as your body learns to run softly and strengthens the parts that need strengthening. If that means that either your skin or muscles or whatever can only handle 1/4 mile at first, well, then you should only be running 1/4 mile. This seems untenable for a runner used to running long distances. But guess what. News flash. I'm not running long distances these days. So do I really have anything to lose by starting uber-slow, if it ultimately means healing well, and eventually getting to a place where I'm running injury-free well into the future?
I have to admit that I'm not planning on being a full-on naked barefoot marathoner, but I am pretty much thinking that the VFFs are my new forever running shoe. So building back up some distance by barefooting, and then using the VFFs only after the barefooting has done its work, may be the way I go for a while. Tomorrow morning I'm going for a barefoot run, first thing in the morning. It shouldn't take long as I don’t expect I'll get very far (the sidewalks around here are super rough). If something hurts, I'll stop. Maybe I'll try that for a week or so and see how it goes.
A little research suggests that I might be having an issue with my posterior tibial tendon (Dr. Google not being a real doctor and all, I'm totally self-diagnosing here). This seems to be an issue that can be caused by weak arches, and since I overpronate slightly and have been wearing arch supports (aka arch weakeners) for years, it's no surprise at all that my arches might need some help.
Full-time barefoot runners (www.runningbarefoot.org) say that you should only run as far as you can run barefoot. Since I'm currently experiencing pain at about the 3.5 mile mark (in the VFFs, not totally barefoot), I'm guessing that means that that's as strong as my arches currently are, and that I need to continue the strengthening/stretching that I've been doing, as well as the short-distance minimalist running to keep working my feet, calves, and ankles (my right ankle has been extremely stiff ever since this PFF business started). One interesting site that suggests that you can strengthen your arches by practicing standing and walking with your arches in neutral position. Sure enough, if I stand with my arches in a neutral position for about 10 minutes, the muscles all up the outside of my legs, and other muscles in my feet and ankles get surprisingly tired! They clearly aren't used to having to work so much to keep my arch strong, but by gosh they are going to learn! I also read that balancing on one foot with your eye closed is a good arch strengthener. Fortunately, I've been doing these all summer. And sure enough, it's amazing at all the muscles and bits that engage in the foot/ankle/leg doing this!
Square One? Naked Feet
In addition to adding more focus on standing and walking with a neutral arch, I'm thinking of taking this barefoot thing from the other direction. Full-time barefooters argue that you shouldn't transition down from shod running, but should rather go the other direction. Get rid of the shoes entirely and start running barefoot, and build up distance and pace as your body allows, aka as your body learns to run softly and strengthens the parts that need strengthening. If that means that either your skin or muscles or whatever can only handle 1/4 mile at first, well, then you should only be running 1/4 mile. This seems untenable for a runner used to running long distances. But guess what. News flash. I'm not running long distances these days. So do I really have anything to lose by starting uber-slow, if it ultimately means healing well, and eventually getting to a place where I'm running injury-free well into the future?
I have to admit that I'm not planning on being a full-on naked barefoot marathoner, but I am pretty much thinking that the VFFs are my new forever running shoe. So building back up some distance by barefooting, and then using the VFFs only after the barefooting has done its work, may be the way I go for a while. Tomorrow morning I'm going for a barefoot run, first thing in the morning. It shouldn't take long as I don’t expect I'll get very far (the sidewalks around here are super rough). If something hurts, I'll stop. Maybe I'll try that for a week or so and see how it goes.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Asics Not Feeling Right
I've now run in the Asics a few times and in the VFFs a few times, and honestly I think I'm done with the Asics. At only 4.2 ounces, they're ridiculously light, but (1) I liked the non-cushioning of the Pumas better than I like the admittedly very slight cushioning of the Asics, and (2) they just don't feel as good as the VFFs. Probably if I was wearing my old overbuilt shoes versus the Asics, the Asics would feel great. But because I'm switching back and forth between the Asics and the VFFs, the Asics just feel a little too soft. Or something.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
PF Flares from TMTS
Let me start by saying that I am absolutely loving the VFF's! Having already spent a few months working on the calf and foot strengthening, I was definitely ready to give these guys a spin, but I actually did manage to start slow. I went to the gym and did 1.5 miles in my old shoes (but forefoot striking), then I changed into my flat Pumas for about 1.5 miles, and then finished up with 1 mile in the VFFs. Moving down the ladder of "support" and weight was definitely a good feeling. It felt like it got easier -- not harder -- with each shoe change even though I could tell my feet, ankles, and calves were having to work more. Somehow it just felt better.
After a couple of mixed-shoe runs, I decided my old shoes were just not cutting it. Too heavy, too stiff - and just noticeably uncomfortable when worn right before one of my other lighter, more flexible pairs. Unfortunately, though, I made the classic runner's mistake and tried doing too much too soon (TMTS). My marathon partner started training for her next marathon in early August, and since I was getting back into running, I agreed to help her kick off her training by running with her for the first couple of lower mileage weeks. That still meant an 8 mile run one weekend, and a 9 mile run the following, with 5-6 mile interval and tempo runs in between. After three months with virtually no running (except for my little drills and exercises), does this sound like a smart plan. Noooooo, of course not. Did I do it anyway? Yeeeeees. Yes, yes I did. Dumb@ss.
After the 9 miler my PF was really screaming at me, and I admitted what I already knew: that no amount of proper running technique was going to change the fact that I was running too far, too soon for someone trying to "slowly" (ha!) build up mileage during a rehabilitation phase. So I have slowed back to a more realistic rehab pace. I'm thinking three miles here, three miles there. Some in the VFFs. Some in my new flats. The Pumas, it turned out, were a little too narrow for my feet, and I'd started getting blisters on the tops of my toes. So I bought a pair of Asics (Piranha SP2).
After a couple of mixed-shoe runs, I decided my old shoes were just not cutting it. Too heavy, too stiff - and just noticeably uncomfortable when worn right before one of my other lighter, more flexible pairs. Unfortunately, though, I made the classic runner's mistake and tried doing too much too soon (TMTS). My marathon partner started training for her next marathon in early August, and since I was getting back into running, I agreed to help her kick off her training by running with her for the first couple of lower mileage weeks. That still meant an 8 mile run one weekend, and a 9 mile run the following, with 5-6 mile interval and tempo runs in between. After three months with virtually no running (except for my little drills and exercises), does this sound like a smart plan. Noooooo, of course not. Did I do it anyway? Yeeeeees. Yes, yes I did. Dumb@ss.
After the 9 miler my PF was really screaming at me, and I admitted what I already knew: that no amount of proper running technique was going to change the fact that I was running too far, too soon for someone trying to "slowly" (ha!) build up mileage during a rehabilitation phase. So I have slowed back to a more realistic rehab pace. I'm thinking three miles here, three miles there. Some in the VFFs. Some in my new flats. The Pumas, it turned out, were a little too narrow for my feet, and I'd started getting blisters on the tops of my toes. So I bought a pair of Asics (Piranha SP2).
So let's hit the reset button and try this again…
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Back to Reality: Plantar Fasciitis Rehab
In spite of our hopes to run our next marathon in the fall, it turns out that I'll have to wait a little longer. The heel pain that started a few weeks before the marathon has proved a greater hurdle than I'd expected. When a couple of post-marathon, post-rest easy 4 milers turned up the heel pain once again, I went to the doctor and was officially diagnosed with plantar fasciitis - which I had already figured was the case via Dr. Google.
Having faced a hip/butt injury a couple of years ago, and done the frustrating roller coaster ride of reducing my mileage, feeling better, and then increasing my mileage only to re-aggravate the injury, I decided to do things differently this time. This time I was going to stop running (*gasp*) to let the injury heal. I just finished a marathon, and needed some mental and physical down time anyway, so what better time to take some rest? I signed up for a two month intro membership at 8 Limbs Yoga just up the street, lined up several of the various PF-related foot and calf stretches and strengthening exercises that I'd collected, and decided to focus on cycling for my summer exercise rather than running.
Reconsidering Proper Running Technique: Pose Method
This down time also inspired me to look into a running technique that I'd first come across a few years prior, when my butt injury didn't seem like it would ever go away. The version I'd explored was the Pose Method, which essentially promotes forefoot running (versus heel striking). The proponents essentially argue that running forefoot is a more natural way of running, and that running more naturally can prevent running injuries. Modern running shoes, they say, essentially force us to run on our heels (heel strike) even though anyone who takes off their shoes and tries to run barefoot will almost invariably land in more of a forefoot stance. Heel striking (where your foot lands out in front of you) puts all sorts of impact and stress on a part of your body not at all built to handle that impact, while forefoot striking (where your foot lands directly beneath your body) has you landing on a part of your body that is designed precisely to absorb shock. Just try jumping up and down and notice where you land. You'll be on your forefoot, not your heel.
The forefoot running proponents (Pose Method, Chi Running, Evolution Running -they all seem to me to be different "brands" of what is more generally referred to as forefoot running) propose getting back into flat racing shoes reminiscent of the 1970's flat Nikes we all knew and loved, as a means of adopting the proper technique more easily. The Pose Method suggests that running barefoot can also be incorporated into training to help learn proper running technique.
I found this technique fascinating back when I first read about it, but wasn't ready then to make a wholesale change in my running. Plus, there didn't seem to be a lot of information about it available, which made me wonder about its credibility. Around that time, my butt finally began to heal (thanks in large part to the massage services of Sarah Ellis, LMP - whose contact information I will gladly pass along to anyone in the Seattle area who would like it. She's fantastic!). So while I tried to pay some attention to landing slightly more forward rather than less, I didn't actually adopt the Pose Method back then (2005-ish).
But in 2009, feeling angry at the prospect of being injured again for a long period (there are plenty of PF horror stories out there), I decided that being forever injured was just not an option and that there had to be a better way to do this. So I went poking around the Pose website again, and decided this would be a great time to make the shift to what I was convinced would be a healthier (more natural) running technique, to hopefully rehab my bum foot, and maybe start running in a way that would not have me perpetually facing one injury or another.
Making the Switch to Forefoot Running (May 30, 2009)
I wrote a message to several of my running buddies letting them know I was going to try something new, primarily so I could have some other runners to talk with about this transition, runners who would ask questions and share their opinions about it all. I wasn't trying to convince anyone else that they should do this – buy just wanted to bring my friends into the loop on what I was up to.
I sent them a great, short video clip – from the New Jersey Sports Medicine Performance Center that shows a nice side by side comparison of one runner’s before and after videos. It shows a runner's original running stride versus their stride after two weeks of instruction in forefoot running. I thought it would be a good way to show them that I wasn't trying something crazy -- it looks quite normal when you see it on tape.
I also went out and bought my first flats: Puma Salohs without any heal cushioning at all. As soon as I put them on I could feel how the lack of heel cushioning affected my gait. They immediately made it feel more intuitive to run forefoot. Sure enough, when my body could feel that there was no cushion under my heels, I didn't even come close to wanting to run on them. It was a very weird realization. So I started doing short drills and foot stretching/strengthening exercises to get previously unused or underused foot/ankle/calf muscles ready to work. I had heard about some even more minimalist shoes, the Vibram Five Fingers which allow you to feel even the shape of twigs and rocks beneath your feet, but at the time, I certainly had no intention of going quite that far.
I went to the park and ran a few short distances barefoot, just drills to play with the forefoot technique and strengthen my feet. I also started running short distances in my flats, starting with just 1/2 mile. My calves burned the next day, but a few days later I went out again and ran 3/4 of a mile. Then a few days later, a mile, and eventually, two. But all of this yoga, stretching, strengthening, uber-short runs in the flats, walking around a lot barefoot to get all my foot muscles engaged -- I was doing all of this over the course of three months (while cycling to get my "real" exercise).
Late July 2009 - Born to Run
Having faced a hip/butt injury a couple of years ago, and done the frustrating roller coaster ride of reducing my mileage, feeling better, and then increasing my mileage only to re-aggravate the injury, I decided to do things differently this time. This time I was going to stop running (*gasp*) to let the injury heal. I just finished a marathon, and needed some mental and physical down time anyway, so what better time to take some rest? I signed up for a two month intro membership at 8 Limbs Yoga just up the street, lined up several of the various PF-related foot and calf stretches and strengthening exercises that I'd collected, and decided to focus on cycling for my summer exercise rather than running.
This down time also inspired me to look into a running technique that I'd first come across a few years prior, when my butt injury didn't seem like it would ever go away. The version I'd explored was the Pose Method, which essentially promotes forefoot running (versus heel striking). The proponents essentially argue that running forefoot is a more natural way of running, and that running more naturally can prevent running injuries. Modern running shoes, they say, essentially force us to run on our heels (heel strike) even though anyone who takes off their shoes and tries to run barefoot will almost invariably land in more of a forefoot stance. Heel striking (where your foot lands out in front of you) puts all sorts of impact and stress on a part of your body not at all built to handle that impact, while forefoot striking (where your foot lands directly beneath your body) has you landing on a part of your body that is designed precisely to absorb shock. Just try jumping up and down and notice where you land. You'll be on your forefoot, not your heel.
The forefoot running proponents (Pose Method, Chi Running, Evolution Running -they all seem to me to be different "brands" of what is more generally referred to as forefoot running) propose getting back into flat racing shoes reminiscent of the 1970's flat Nikes we all knew and loved, as a means of adopting the proper technique more easily. The Pose Method suggests that running barefoot can also be incorporated into training to help learn proper running technique.
I found this technique fascinating back when I first read about it, but wasn't ready then to make a wholesale change in my running. Plus, there didn't seem to be a lot of information about it available, which made me wonder about its credibility. Around that time, my butt finally began to heal (thanks in large part to the massage services of Sarah Ellis, LMP - whose contact information I will gladly pass along to anyone in the Seattle area who would like it. She's fantastic!). So while I tried to pay some attention to landing slightly more forward rather than less, I didn't actually adopt the Pose Method back then (2005-ish).
But in 2009, feeling angry at the prospect of being injured again for a long period (there are plenty of PF horror stories out there), I decided that being forever injured was just not an option and that there had to be a better way to do this. So I went poking around the Pose website again, and decided this would be a great time to make the shift to what I was convinced would be a healthier (more natural) running technique, to hopefully rehab my bum foot, and maybe start running in a way that would not have me perpetually facing one injury or another.
Making the Switch to Forefoot Running (May 30, 2009)
I wrote a message to several of my running buddies letting them know I was going to try something new, primarily so I could have some other runners to talk with about this transition, runners who would ask questions and share their opinions about it all. I wasn't trying to convince anyone else that they should do this – buy just wanted to bring my friends into the loop on what I was up to.
I sent them a great, short video clip – from the New Jersey Sports Medicine Performance Center that shows a nice side by side comparison of one runner’s before and after videos. It shows a runner's original running stride versus their stride after two weeks of instruction in forefoot running. I thought it would be a good way to show them that I wasn't trying something crazy -- it looks quite normal when you see it on tape.
I also went out and bought my first flats: Puma Salohs without any heal cushioning at all. As soon as I put them on I could feel how the lack of heel cushioning affected my gait. They immediately made it feel more intuitive to run forefoot. Sure enough, when my body could feel that there was no cushion under my heels, I didn't even come close to wanting to run on them. It was a very weird realization. So I started doing short drills and foot stretching/strengthening exercises to get previously unused or underused foot/ankle/calf muscles ready to work. I had heard about some even more minimalist shoes, the Vibram Five Fingers which allow you to feel even the shape of twigs and rocks beneath your feet, but at the time, I certainly had no intention of going quite that far.
I went to the park and ran a few short distances barefoot, just drills to play with the forefoot technique and strengthen my feet. I also started running short distances in my flats, starting with just 1/2 mile. My calves burned the next day, but a few days later I went out again and ran 3/4 of a mile. Then a few days later, a mile, and eventually, two. But all of this yoga, stretching, strengthening, uber-short runs in the flats, walking around a lot barefoot to get all my foot muscles engaged -- I was doing all of this over the course of three months (while cycling to get my "real" exercise).
Late July 2009 - Born to Run
By late July, I was really antsy to get back to real running again. My PF definitely seemed to have improved (though it was by no means completely healed), and I felt like a little more active rehab was in order. I decided to start doing some mileage --initially just 2 or 3 miles at a time-- in the flats. At about this same time, a friend recommended that I read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. It had been on my 'read eventually' list, but her recommendation inspired me to get it right away.
And wow, am I glad I did. This is one of my favorite books of all time, and could very possibly be a paradigm changer for the running community. It's certainly a paradigm changer for me. The book tells the story of the Tarahumara Indians of Northeastern Mexico, and their ability to run ultra long distances - without injury and in very thin sandals (huaraches) unlike anything the modern running shoe industry offers. Beneath the overarching story of these people, and one man's effort to organize a race between some of the fastest ultra marathoners and the fastest Tarahumara runners, there were snippets of information about the technical aspects of running that I found captivating. Like the description of how different animals are built differently to maximize oxygen intake and thus to run more efficiently. And the related theory of persistence hunting, which contrary to common myths about how running is so "hard" on our bodies, suggests that we actually evolved precisely for the purpose of running long distances (and thus eventually outlasting, even if not outpacing, the sprinting animals that we were trying to chase down for dinner). And then it got into running shoes, and how the shoe industry has been building bigger and heavier shoes that do nothing at all to help us run better, but may instead be contributing to injuries (or at the very least weakening our feet by keeping them overprotected and immobile). Anyway, you can read all about the substance of the book elsewhere, but my primary takeaway is one paradigm-shifting lesson: Running is not bad for the body. In fact, we were designed precisely to be able to run, and to run long.
Paradigm Shift, the Earth Moves
I'm built to do this? I'm not bucking some innate resistance to running long distances and perpetually subjecting my body to potentially serious harm just so I can keep the weight off and stay fit? I'd bought into all of it at some point.
"Of course, I'm injured. I'm a runner."
"New shoes at 6 months or 400 miles, whichever comes first, no question."
"Running a half marathon is one thing, but a marathon -- well, that's just a little extreme and asking for trouble. We weren't built for that."
"Running is just so hard on the body."
The book's argument in this regard was right in line with what I'd already read from the Pose Running folks -- that being a runner need not (in fact, should not) involve perpetual injury, and I was glad to see the message repeated. When I first read about Pose, there was so little information out there. Now I found myself reading a book that had been getting a lot of (well deserved!) buzz in running circles. And now suddenly lots of people were talking about running technique, and forefoot running, and barefoot running. All of the ideas I'd been exploring were now becoming part of the mainstream conversation, and I was beside myself with relief! Not only because I had felt like I had been walking a fine line between bold and crazy by trying a new non-mainstream technique, or because people were finally talking about this big thing that I very much wanted to be talking about, but because of one of the bottom line lessons of the book:
As a runner, I do not need to accept being injured. Running is good for me. I was built to do this.
Yippee! If running really is good for me, then everything changes. If running is good for me, then if something hurts, I simply need to change how I run -- I don't need to change the fact that I run. I can stop worrying about trying to hit that perfect combo of shoes, yoga, training practices, and nutrition so that I *might* avoid getting injured. I don't need to buy into the notion that plantar fasciitis is the incurable monster that is going to bug me for the rest of my running life. If running is good for me, then I can get back to running, and know that running (properly) can potentially actually help me heal.
Barefoot-Ish
Born to Run talks quite a bit about barefoot running and the Vibram Five Fingers (VFFs) that I once thought were out of the question for me. But after reading the book, and having been going down a road heading that direction for the past three months already, I ordered a pair of the VFF Flows, figuring I'd use them as a tool to improve my forefoot running technique.
And wow, am I glad I did. This is one of my favorite books of all time, and could very possibly be a paradigm changer for the running community. It's certainly a paradigm changer for me. The book tells the story of the Tarahumara Indians of Northeastern Mexico, and their ability to run ultra long distances - without injury and in very thin sandals (huaraches) unlike anything the modern running shoe industry offers. Beneath the overarching story of these people, and one man's effort to organize a race between some of the fastest ultra marathoners and the fastest Tarahumara runners, there were snippets of information about the technical aspects of running that I found captivating. Like the description of how different animals are built differently to maximize oxygen intake and thus to run more efficiently. And the related theory of persistence hunting, which contrary to common myths about how running is so "hard" on our bodies, suggests that we actually evolved precisely for the purpose of running long distances (and thus eventually outlasting, even if not outpacing, the sprinting animals that we were trying to chase down for dinner). And then it got into running shoes, and how the shoe industry has been building bigger and heavier shoes that do nothing at all to help us run better, but may instead be contributing to injuries (or at the very least weakening our feet by keeping them overprotected and immobile). Anyway, you can read all about the substance of the book elsewhere, but my primary takeaway is one paradigm-shifting lesson: Running is not bad for the body. In fact, we were designed precisely to be able to run, and to run long.
Paradigm Shift, the Earth Moves
I'm built to do this? I'm not bucking some innate resistance to running long distances and perpetually subjecting my body to potentially serious harm just so I can keep the weight off and stay fit? I'd bought into all of it at some point.
"Of course, I'm injured. I'm a runner."
"New shoes at 6 months or 400 miles, whichever comes first, no question."
"Running a half marathon is one thing, but a marathon -- well, that's just a little extreme and asking for trouble. We weren't built for that."
"Running is just so hard on the body."
The book's argument in this regard was right in line with what I'd already read from the Pose Running folks -- that being a runner need not (in fact, should not) involve perpetual injury, and I was glad to see the message repeated. When I first read about Pose, there was so little information out there. Now I found myself reading a book that had been getting a lot of (well deserved!) buzz in running circles. And now suddenly lots of people were talking about running technique, and forefoot running, and barefoot running. All of the ideas I'd been exploring were now becoming part of the mainstream conversation, and I was beside myself with relief! Not only because I had felt like I had been walking a fine line between bold and crazy by trying a new non-mainstream technique, or because people were finally talking about this big thing that I very much wanted to be talking about, but because of one of the bottom line lessons of the book:
As a runner, I do not need to accept being injured. Running is good for me. I was built to do this.
Yippee! If running really is good for me, then everything changes. If running is good for me, then if something hurts, I simply need to change how I run -- I don't need to change the fact that I run. I can stop worrying about trying to hit that perfect combo of shoes, yoga, training practices, and nutrition so that I *might* avoid getting injured. I don't need to buy into the notion that plantar fasciitis is the incurable monster that is going to bug me for the rest of my running life. If running is good for me, then I can get back to running, and know that running (properly) can potentially actually help me heal.
Barefoot-Ish
Born to Run talks quite a bit about barefoot running and the Vibram Five Fingers (VFFs) that I once thought were out of the question for me. But after reading the book, and having been going down a road heading that direction for the past three months already, I ordered a pair of the VFF Flows, figuring I'd use them as a tool to improve my forefoot running technique.
Now that my VFFs have arrived, I've decided to blog about my transition - to barefoot-ish running, to forefoot running, to healing from PF. I've seen several website posts from people saying they overcame PF in various ways, but I've really wanted more details. How long did it take? What did you try that worked? What didn't? How long did it take?!?! So I thought I'd keep a blog to offer up some of those kinds of details. I'm convinced this is going to work, but we'll just have to see how. I'm a run-of-the-mill 39-year old female runner who's tired of being injured, and excited to run another marathon some day. Let's see how it goes!!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The Starting Line = The Finishing Line
My Marathon Revisited (2009 Vancouver Marathon)
I just finished my first marathon! Everyone's asking "How'd it go?!" so here's the answer in a couple of versions. (I wrote this as 'my' marathon story, but since it was fundamentally a team effort, I found it impossible to consistently write about it from an "I" rather than a "we" perspective.)
The Short Version
It was a challenge, for sure. It really is "all that." It was hard, and fun, and painful in ways that I didn't expect, particularly given my remarkably injury-free training period. But Emily and I finished it --sans medical intervention!-- and in a respectable time. We met two of our goals of (1) finishing, and (2) finishing in under 4.5 hours. I had a great first half (finishing the half marathon distance in 2:01) but a more difficult second half that left me running through a degree of pain I hadn't ever had to run through before. Emily and I finished together in 4:28:16, and by the end of the day, we were already strategizing about our next marathon. I am incredibly proud of us, and am so grateful for all the words of support and encouragement that we received leading up to the race. And of course, I'm ever so grateful to Wayne for several months of post-long-run breakfasts and his willingness to take on the role of ground support for us this past weekend. Thank you all for helping us get to our goal!
The Nitty Gritty
It was a challenge, for sure. It was hard. (Shocking, I know.) It was fun. ("It was fun?!" my left leg chimes in, incredulously. "Yes," I remind my left leg, "while you were screaming, other parts of me were having fun.") It was harder than I expected, but in a different way than I expected. See, Emily and I have had a blessedly injury-free training period. For four months, we managed to ward off injuries that had plagued us both off and on over the past several years. For those who don't know or don't remember, I essentially broke my butt a while back -- an overuse injury likely due to too much running -- before finally switching to a running + cycling regimen that ultimately helped me (and what Wayne dubbed "my broken butt") to heal. I had been butt-injury free for a good long chunk of time before we began training. In fact, I ran the Seattle Half Marathon in 2007 and 2008, staying butt-injury free and setting personal records both times-- before even thinking about the possibility of marathon training.
So our training went remarkably well. Even the 16-, 18- and 20-milers. They were long, and exhausting, and hard -- but I finished them whole and healthy -- with mostly only the expected muscle fatigue and general tiredness at the end. But with stretching and icing, and all that good training stuff, by the next day, the whole body felt good. I did start getting some nagging heel pain at the end of the 20-miler, but did my best to figure out the cause, do the necessary stretching, and nip that in the bud.
So marathon weekend finally arrives. The forecast called for likely rain on marathon morning, and we could hear the pouring down rain outside our hotel room window Saturday night. We were thus pleasantly surprised to arrive at the start line Sunday morning under completely clear blue skies. Relief! We had trained in the rain (our 18-miler was a miserable 3 hours in pouring, cold rain, and my shoe-saturated 13-miler in so-flat-the-water-has-nowh
A Strong First Half
We started well, knowing the dangers of starting off too quickly, and carefully kept ourselves in our intended pace range. I don't have much of a story for the first half, since it all went pretty much as expected, though I learned later that Emily's story started at about mile 3 -- more on that later. My sore heel, which fortunately doesn't hurt as much while I run as after I run, was sore at first, but stopped being an issue once I got warmed up. At about mile 7, though, it started talking to me again. It certainly wasn't painful enough that I couldn't run on it, but enough that I knew I would have to mentally manage it for the next 19 miles. I didn't mention it to Em at this point because I didn't want to give any negative energy a voice in our race. As it turns out, apparently neither did she.
Wayne was waiting for us at about mile 10, cheering us on with a sign that said "Go Stace and Emily, Go!" From here we made our way into Stanley Park, where we saw our first runner calling someone for medical help, minutes before we were passed by an ambulance that was likely carrying her. Bummer. In the park, we hit the 13.1 mile mark having kept a relatively consistent pace -- mostly between 9:10-9:30 min/mile -- which was pretty much on target. Maybe a little fast, but not too far off. Our running pace during our training runs (without walking breaks) has generally ranged 9:15-9:45 min/mile, so we were thinking a 9:30/mi. average would be a good ambitious goal (behind primary goal #1: Finish the marathon and goal #2: finish in under 4.5 hours). By my watch, we finished the half-marathon in 2:01. We didn't expect to keep up that pace for the second half, but were pleased to have had such a strong first half!
We walked through the water stop located right after the half way point, as I needed to give that heel a break, and because I wanted to take advantage of the extra water because of the heat. Not only was it not raining, it was actually sunny and definitely warmer than it's been during any of our training runs. We were carrying our own water bottles and fuel-foods (which turned out to be a great decision for us), but took advantage of the less busy water stations to get a little extra water.
Heading into mile 14, Emily started to feel dizzy, and I later learned that she had been dealing with a flare-up of hip pain (her old nemesis that hadn't bothered her all during training season) since about mile 3. After some walking and drinking some more water, we continued the run out of the park (Em felt better once we got out of the trees), finally making our way back onto some roads packed with cheering bystanders. I'm always amazed at how the cheering of complete strangers makes it easier to run. I don't know how that works, exactly, but it does. It's a real morale boost that just adds a little spring to your step. At this point, our steps could use a little extra spring, so this was a good thing.
Wayne caught us again at about mile 17, and this time was holding a sign that said "15 km to cocktails! Emily - Run!" I hear we weren't the only runners to appreciate his sign.
As we headed up the Burrard Bridge at about mile 18, I was feeling pretty good. This was "the biggest hill" of the race that everyone had talked about, and it seemed manageable. Plus, at the top of the bridge, I realized we had well under 10 miles to go. On the way up, I turned and told Emily that compared to what we run in Seattle, this didn't seem like much of a hill. Oops. As it turned out, it wasn't much of a hill going up. But a whole new race started for me on the way down.
A Whole New Race
Heading down the other side of the bridge, my left knee started hurting. I've never had any knee problems whatsoever in my running, so this was odd. And then I realized the knee wasn't exactly hurting, so much as it felt like someone had removed all the tension from whatever muscle connects the quad to the knee, leaving me suddenly unable to control my left leg properly. At the bottom of the hill, I took a walk break because things just didn't feel right. To be honest, I panicked a little, as I'd never felt anything quite like it, and wasn't sure if it would go away like the other little nagging issues that can come and go over the course of many hours of running.
The floppy leg feeling eased up, but whatever had happened left my leg -- the knee, quad, and where the hip joins at the pelvis -- sore for the rest of the race (sore enough to distract me from my still sore right heel). So it was going to be 8 miles of running with some soreness. Ok, here we go. At 7 miles left, I reminded myself that 7 miles was less than we had run for previous weekend. Of course, the previous weekend, nothing was hurting. Turns out, that makes a difference. Also, while the very slight uphill portions of the route were really not that big of a deal in terms of "hilliness," the resulting slight downhill portions of the route would turn my leg back to jello. I was very careful on these sections, as I was afraid my leg might just give out from under me. At one point Em asked "Are we going to finish this thing in one piece?" "Yes, we will," I told her. I believed it. I just knew we were going to have to slog it out between then and the end. I stopped looking at my watch and tracking our pace after mile 18. At some point, it became completely irrelevant.
The route on the last 7-8 miles of this run was a bit of a mental mind-game as well. You cross the bridge (at about mile 18), go straight out, and then do a u-turn and come straight back, and back over the bridge (at about mile 25), after which you head downhill and then flat toward the finish. As a result, you see all the people ahead of you who have already made the U-turn, coming back down the other side of the road. This is not unusual, and can be kind of cool from a people-watching perspective, but it also mentally keeps you wondering where the U-turn is and when it's coming. And just when you think it must be coming any minute now, it doesn't. And you do that little dance in your head several times before you finally go around a bend, expecting that this for sure is part of the turnaround, only to find that it's not. Not only is there another mile or so ahead before the U-turn point, but you can now see exactly how far ahead the turn point is because the road leading to that point is uphill. Which frankly, doesn't bother me nearly as much as knowing that I have to come back down that little hill on Jello Leg.
Fortunately, Emily, who still had her own hip screaming at her, had fully gotten her mental mojo back for the second half of the race (after struggling to maintain it in the first half when she was dealing with that unexpected hip pain), so I took a drag off some of her energy as I continued to fight my increasingly painful left leg. At one point, we passed some people with a sign that said "Run with Power." "Yes, yes, yes" I said out loud, "We will." I don’t know how far the "mind over matter" thing can go with physical pain, but so long as I was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other, it certainly wasn't going to do any harm to try to make my mind tell the noncompliant parts of my body to shut the hell up. Also, we were playing leap frog with one of the wheel-chair marathoners, who would fall behind on the inclines, and pass us on the downhills. What motivation. Our legs are meant to be the strongest muscles in our bodies; his arms are not. But he was still doing it. I felt humbled.
At about mile 24, as we approached the bridge again, I realized that this must be what people talk about when they say you have to "dig down deep" to find a way to finish this thing. I've had injuries and pain before. And that's typically when I've learned I'm supposed to back off, or slow down, or stop and rest and come back stronger another day. Listen to your body. If it hurts, don't keep going, or you could just make it worse. But on race day, that's not necessarily the rule. We were going to finish. We knew we could. Even though we were hurting we knew we would. We still had the energy. We didn't feel like we hit "the wall" that everyone talks about where you just feel exhausted and depleted. But somehow you have to mentally accept that you are going to run for six, four, two more miles (easy!) in serious pain (not easy!!). Emily got a few steps ahead of me and I looked at her and again drew off her mojo. I knew she was going to pull the strength to finish out of somewhere inside her, and by God, so was I.
We headed up the bridge again at mile 25 and got a little boost on the way up. One of the Team in Training runners was just in front of us, and one of the Team in Training coaches came running up from the sidelines to run with him a bit, and help cheer him to the finish. So we freeloaded on his motivational pep talk. "There are huge crowds at the finish line," he said, "and everyone's cheering. You're going to cross the finish line and it's going to be great!" I turned to Emily and mimicked his tone "It's going to be great!" I told her. We chuckled as we had been doing at funny little things all along.
As we hit the top of the bridge, I told Em I was going to take especially small steps on the way down-- again just wanting to make sure that leg didn't go all wonky on me. And while I might have been able to tumble down from the bridge faster than I was running down, I didn't really want to go that route. At the bottom when I hit flat ground again, I decided tried to pick up the pace to catch up with her. The leg didn't like this plan, and told me so. So I just kept steady. After a bit, I tried again, and this time was able to pick up the pace to reach her so that we could run into the chute together.
Sure enough, the crowds were really great, and we saw Wayne there on the sidelines for the third time. People were yelling "You're almost there!" of course, and one woman yelled "Enjoy the end!" "Sure, I would," I said to Em, "If I could just see the darn thing!" Again, we laughed. We knew we had to be "so close" but couldn't actually see the finish line. When it finally came into sight, I remember thinking I just had to focus on that, straight ahead. With everyone cheering, I wanted to look around, or smile back, or something, but decided I was just going to take all the energy they were giving and use it all to just focus on getting to that line.
We had been careful to smile for the cameras along the route so that our pictures would show us "enjoying the moment." I'm not sure if I remembered to smile as we crossed the line or not. And frankly, I don't much care if I did. My heart was proud and my body felt broken, but smile or no, I was unspeakably happy to have made it across the line, with Em, both in one piece -- or at the very least, both of us walking on our own power. I almost cried right then, because it felt so good to have made it, but I knew the sappy tears would quickly turn to pain tears, and I didn't want that to be the end of my race.
After grabbing all the post-race food and drink, we found Wayne, traded our running shoes for the flip-flops he'd brought for us (a tip we'd heard from another marathoner), and started heading back toward the hotel for what I had originally figured would make for a good cool down walk after the race. Of course, that was back when I expected to be able to walk at the end of the race! It was a sloooow go on my sore heel, but eventually we made it back up the street, and stopped for our long-awaited JapaDog lunch (a famous Vancouver street cart that serves hot dogs with Japanese toppings). It did not disappoint! We eventually continued on back to the hotel to shower, rest, and head out to eat some more.
This was not the race I expected it to be. I felt well prepared for it and frankly, I expected it to be an extension of our training runs -- more exhausting for sure, even painful to a point, but essentially injury free. But there are good running days and bad running days, and while it's nice when a race coincides with a good running day, that doesn't always happen. And that's ok. Because whatever else happened, we finished our first marathon!! I'm very proud of that. I'm very proud of having stuck to a training program for four months -- especially because I began to understand about six weeks ago that the training was becoming as mentally taxing as it was physically tiring. And I'm very proud to have been strong enough to run through more challenging physical stress than I'd ever done before. And whatever else happened, by the end of the day Em and I were actually sitting and strategizing where and when we should run our next marathon. In terms of a response to the question "How'd it go?" perhaps that is the most telling answer of all.
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