I was not looking forward to running today at all. I had a headache most of the day, and by the time I got home from work, about two hours later than I had planned, I was just ready for bed. My headache was building again, and my left knee was still sore from last Friday's run. I even tried wearing the too-tight patellar stabilizer during the day today, but I had to take it off at noon because it was just too tight and too uncomfortable.
I should have known better than to let Mrs. F push me to run when my mind and body were telling me it wasn't a good idea. I know she meant well, but I just should have listened to my body. My leg wrap/tape combo didn't seem to help much today. As it turns out, both of my long-sleeve polyester shirts were in the laundry, so I didn't have my two base cold-weather layers. I had my loose-fitting long-sleeve orange shirt and a windbreaker shell--let's just say I was too bloody cold before the run and immediately thereafter.
As I stated earlier, I did not want to be out running today. I was grumbling and cursing under my breath because I was tired, uncomfortable, and sore, and because I knew I still had a load of reading to finish for my current class. I was slow on the warmup walk, and my knee was already aching. When I started the run, I gave it everything I had though, but I'm guessing it wasn't much. Mrs. F was still stretching when I got started, but that was fine because I knew she would catch up. However, as we progressed and I could either hear her coming or see her long shadow coming up behind me from either a car's headlamps or a street light, I pushed myself to go faster. Honestly, I was not really happy about being out there running and I figured I would at least make it a bit rough on her today. Not nice, I know, but c'est la vie. She almost caught up to me a couple of times, and each time I pushed ahead. I kept the lead through most of the first mile, even though my knee was painful and I could feel the shin splints in my right leg starting to flare up. She got to pull ahead as we neared the one mile mark. I was fine with that, because I knew I was done.
Today I felt like I did during one of the early weeks of the Couch-to-5k program--I didn't want to be out there, and I wasn't going to kid myself that I'm a runner. I'm a hugely fat guy who had been out there forcing himself to run for nine weeks, partly motivated by a fear of death and partly motivated by knowing that some people would think that I wouldn't be able to do it. Yeah, I got through the nine weeks, but who am I trying to kid now? Or, at least, that's how my thinking was going.
When we got to the end, I turned around and told Mrs. F I needed to walk. Maybe I could have run more if I had not pushed so hard on the way out, but by the way my knee was hurting before I got started, I don't think it's likely that I would have made the two miles anyway. Upon hearing I was going to walk, Mrs. F decided to run further on before turning around. Oh, how I envy her! She's really enjoying this, the running. I've had some good runs, but I can't say I really enjoy it right now, at least not consistantly.
So I started hobbling back. I yelled and cussed at myself in my mind (and probably out loud, at points). I knew I had run nearly three times as much before. Heck, I ran about seven and a half miles last week! There was no way I was going to keep walking.
That settled it. I decided to push myself back to a run. It didn't last very long, though. My face and neck were cold and my headache was getting worse. My left knee was sore with every footfall, but if I tried to adjust my stride so as to spare the knee, it aggravated the shin splints on my right leg. I tried to put the pain out of mind, and pushed on, but when a burst of burning pain erupted in that right shin, I gave up all hope of running. That was the double-whammy: my sore knee and the shin splints.
I slowed to a walk, but now the walk was painful for both legs. Having slowed down, I started to become more chilled (it was in the 30s °F). Including the distance of our warm-up walk, I was still a mile from the car. Had it not been so cold, I would have sat down on the trail and waited for Mrs. F to come by, and I would have asked her to get the car.
I made it back to our starting point, and back to the car, but I was not a happy camper. I was now even more tired and sore. Whatever good I did resting my right leg since Friday was undone--my shin splints are now as sore as they were then. If I can't get these issues squared away within the next 10 days, I've just flushed my 5k registration fee down the toilet.
I finished the evening icing my legs and reading my coursework. Because I got off work late and we took our run right away, I didn't eat until late and that has really thrown me off my pattern. It's now 10:32 PM and I'm not tired, yet I know I need sleep.
I'm not looking forward to facing the scale this week. I already figure it will be a few steps back. I'm just tired of it all. I've never been a thin guy. I'm just so tired!
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Day 52 (week 8) - DEFEATED (almost)
Well, our little gamble with the weather really paid off. In addition to being about four degrees warmer than it was when we woke, we actually got out during a short break in the rain--the first such break of the day!
I was so excited to try on my patellar stabilizer, but my excitement soon turned to a bit of discouragement. Although they sent out an XXL brace, it was still a bit snug on my leg. I gave it the benefit of the doubt, figuring that it may have been designed that way for extra support. I tried placing a call in to our clinic, to see if I could talk to someone on the sports medecine team, but I ended up on hold for an extended period of time and we really needed to just get out of the door.
Because I had the brace on, I didn't wear that extra set of polyester long johns I used on Monday. I didn't want to risk tearing them with the extra bulk and the edges on the hook-look straps.
We parked another block further away today, to ensure we had our full warm-up in before we began. If we went a little long on the warm-up, we figured that would be fine, too. As I walked the distance, my brace-equipped leg didn't feel right. Despite its snug-fitting construction, the top part seemed to be working down a bit, and bunching up behind my knee. It felt very tight, so I made a few adjustments along the way, and again when we stretched between our walk and the run.
As we finished our stretching and prepared to start our run, however, our cover was almost blown and our secret was almost revealed. Running down the trail, coming right at us, was one of our son's close friends. We quickly made an admonition not to reveal our secret. Had I been thinking more clearly, I would have extracted a vow on pain of death...
And so we began. Almost immediately, however, I could tell that something was wrong with my gait. The brace felt tight, my knee was sore, and I had pain behind my knee. We stopped. I spent a few minutes adjusting the brace, then I reset my playlist to the start of the run and we began again.
My adjustment did little to alleviate my discomfort. I pushed on, but noticed that the way the brace was bunching behind my knee was causing it to constrict me there. Each heel kick felt like someone was driving a thumb into the soft tissue behind my knee. I kept going, however. My pace was clearly and significantly slower than it had been on Monday, in fact, it reminded me of my worst day last week, but this was only the start--the second start--of this run. I was worried.
Within a few moments, I was fighting hard to maintain a good stride. I could already feel the running limp begin. As we approached one driveway along the trail, perhaps five minutes in, I yelled out to Mrs. F to continue on without me. The discomfort caused by the brace was now so strong that I could not fathom going on for another 20 or more minutes. I slowed to a walk and then stopped--somthing I said I'd never do.
The next few minutes were extremely difficult for me. I quickly adjusted the brace and tried running again, but now the original injury was also causing me pain. I slowed again and walked on. I did something I told myself I would never, ever do: I gave up.
Part of my mind tried to comfort me by pointing out the circumstances. "Well, I'll just wrap it myself and try again tomorrow," I told myself, but the other part of me was already conceding defeat. I walked a few meters more and noticed one of the benches I had been so desperate to stop at during one of the early weeks, and I sat down.
I put my hands on my knees and took a deep breath, the music of my playlist reminding me that I was not moving ahead. This, I thought, was the end of my Couch to 5k running program.
The funny thing is that I just spent a considerable amount of energy last night in a discussion thread on Active.com, encouraging another runner who had gotten away from the program for a couple of weeks. I made it clear that she could not give up, because I, for one, wasn't going to let her get away with it. Yet, there I was, sitting on a bench and lamenting the fact that it was all over.
I loosened the brace. As soon as I did, I felt a rush through my leg as blood started moving unrestricted. I pulled the brace down and fingered the area of my knee that led me to wearing it in the first place. Another song had started--the third--so I knew Mrs. F would soon be at the end of the trail, where we would normally turn around.
I don't know exactly how much time went by there on the bench. All I know is that I was mad at myself for having stopped, and my mind was focused on getting the brace on well enough to allow me to walk back to the car when Mrs. F came into sight. I strained every muscle in my arms and shoulders to get that brace, particularly the back half of it, further up onto my upper leg. Once I got it positioned as best I could, I tightened up the straps (though not as much as before), and I got up. My mind wanted me to turn left and head back toward the car, as I figured that Mrs. F would eventually catch up to me, but I just could turn that way or even look that way. My eyes were focused on the trail ahead of me--that segment of the trail where I should have been running before I sat down and gave in. I kept my eyes there, and my feet began to move.
One, two, three steps walking and then I tentatively began my run. The brace was still uncomfortable, and the knee seemed a little off, but it was better than it was before I stopped. Another song change hit my ears, and I found myself matching my pace closely to the beat. Little by little, I extended my stride. I still hated that blasted brace, but I was moving again.
The sheer elation of realizing that, in the face of defeat, I had gotten back up and started running again washed over me. For a few moments, it was as if I didn't feel anything. I was just a body running down a trail, as if I were in some surreal movie scene presented where the character moves through the frame gracefully while the soundtrack is silent. Then, almost as quickly as that sensation began, it ended. The full force of the cold wind swept across the surface of the lake and cut into me like a knife. I reached into my pockets and pulled out my gloves. That's when I realized where I was on the trail--I was not far from the dam end, yet Mrs. F had not yet passed me on her return. For a moment, I worried that something may have happened to her, but then I figured that she likely just ran a bit further ahead, across the road and further down the trail.
Sure enough, just as my turnaound point came into sight, I saw her crossing the road and heading my direction. When she reached me, she turned again to run with me, back to the end of that section of trail. A song had just ended, and I told her I was going to restart it, since I lost time to the bench. I reached the end, and turned around.
For some reason, that turn made me feel as if we were starting all over again. For the next five to eight minutes, I struggled again to maintain my pace, but I seemingly did so, staying within 10 feet of Mrs. F throught the repeated song, and into the next one. Yet I could not maintain that pace, so she eventually pulled ahead. The pinching pain and constricting discomfort were still there now, but they seemed less prominent in my mind. The run began to feel good, and I enjoyed watching the whitecaps marching across the water. Another song, another burst of energy, and then a slow pace again. I played games with my pacing to keep myself going--faster, slower, a little faster, faster still--and it worked.
As the final song began, I saw the landmarks that told me that the end of the run was near. I could not muster the same strength I discovered on Monday to finish the day, but I maintained a strong run. Mrs. F, again, lovingly circled back to me so that we could finish together. The final bars came with some meters yet to go. "Your're done," I told her, knowing she had run four or five extra minutes. I continued on to the end of the trail before slowing to a walk.
Today's run left me with mixed emotions--I had given up, but yet I was able to restart again (not just once, but twice!). I was able to run when the easier option would have been to walk toward the car. I was able to run when I could have claimed a legitimate reason for stopping and staying stopped. Yet I ran. Oh, does that ever feel good!
So, when Friday comes, I know one thing for certain: I'm leaving the patellar stabilizer at home. I'll wrap it again in the manner I did on Monday, and I'll use masking tape again to fashion my own stabilizer. Oh, yes, I'll call the sports medicine practitioner to see if they have one in a bigger size. If not, I may go a little MacGyver on the brace and cut a big hole in the back, to prevent it from bunching up before giving it another try.
All in all, a difficult run, but I'm glad I got back up and finished it. I may not have finished today's 28 minutes without walking, but I did win a significant victory today. I was defeated--almost--but I got back up again.
I was so excited to try on my patellar stabilizer, but my excitement soon turned to a bit of discouragement. Although they sent out an XXL brace, it was still a bit snug on my leg. I gave it the benefit of the doubt, figuring that it may have been designed that way for extra support. I tried placing a call in to our clinic, to see if I could talk to someone on the sports medecine team, but I ended up on hold for an extended period of time and we really needed to just get out of the door.
Because I had the brace on, I didn't wear that extra set of polyester long johns I used on Monday. I didn't want to risk tearing them with the extra bulk and the edges on the hook-look straps.
We parked another block further away today, to ensure we had our full warm-up in before we began. If we went a little long on the warm-up, we figured that would be fine, too. As I walked the distance, my brace-equipped leg didn't feel right. Despite its snug-fitting construction, the top part seemed to be working down a bit, and bunching up behind my knee. It felt very tight, so I made a few adjustments along the way, and again when we stretched between our walk and the run.
As we finished our stretching and prepared to start our run, however, our cover was almost blown and our secret was almost revealed. Running down the trail, coming right at us, was one of our son's close friends. We quickly made an admonition not to reveal our secret. Had I been thinking more clearly, I would have extracted a vow on pain of death...
And so we began. Almost immediately, however, I could tell that something was wrong with my gait. The brace felt tight, my knee was sore, and I had pain behind my knee. We stopped. I spent a few minutes adjusting the brace, then I reset my playlist to the start of the run and we began again.
My adjustment did little to alleviate my discomfort. I pushed on, but noticed that the way the brace was bunching behind my knee was causing it to constrict me there. Each heel kick felt like someone was driving a thumb into the soft tissue behind my knee. I kept going, however. My pace was clearly and significantly slower than it had been on Monday, in fact, it reminded me of my worst day last week, but this was only the start--the second start--of this run. I was worried.
Within a few moments, I was fighting hard to maintain a good stride. I could already feel the running limp begin. As we approached one driveway along the trail, perhaps five minutes in, I yelled out to Mrs. F to continue on without me. The discomfort caused by the brace was now so strong that I could not fathom going on for another 20 or more minutes. I slowed to a walk and then stopped--somthing I said I'd never do.
The next few minutes were extremely difficult for me. I quickly adjusted the brace and tried running again, but now the original injury was also causing me pain. I slowed again and walked on. I did something I told myself I would never, ever do: I gave up.
Part of my mind tried to comfort me by pointing out the circumstances. "Well, I'll just wrap it myself and try again tomorrow," I told myself, but the other part of me was already conceding defeat. I walked a few meters more and noticed one of the benches I had been so desperate to stop at during one of the early weeks, and I sat down.
I put my hands on my knees and took a deep breath, the music of my playlist reminding me that I was not moving ahead. This, I thought, was the end of my Couch to 5k running program.
The funny thing is that I just spent a considerable amount of energy last night in a discussion thread on Active.com, encouraging another runner who had gotten away from the program for a couple of weeks. I made it clear that she could not give up, because I, for one, wasn't going to let her get away with it. Yet, there I was, sitting on a bench and lamenting the fact that it was all over.
I loosened the brace. As soon as I did, I felt a rush through my leg as blood started moving unrestricted. I pulled the brace down and fingered the area of my knee that led me to wearing it in the first place. Another song had started--the third--so I knew Mrs. F would soon be at the end of the trail, where we would normally turn around.
I don't know exactly how much time went by there on the bench. All I know is that I was mad at myself for having stopped, and my mind was focused on getting the brace on well enough to allow me to walk back to the car when Mrs. F came into sight. I strained every muscle in my arms and shoulders to get that brace, particularly the back half of it, further up onto my upper leg. Once I got it positioned as best I could, I tightened up the straps (though not as much as before), and I got up. My mind wanted me to turn left and head back toward the car, as I figured that Mrs. F would eventually catch up to me, but I just could turn that way or even look that way. My eyes were focused on the trail ahead of me--that segment of the trail where I should have been running before I sat down and gave in. I kept my eyes there, and my feet began to move.
One, two, three steps walking and then I tentatively began my run. The brace was still uncomfortable, and the knee seemed a little off, but it was better than it was before I stopped. Another song change hit my ears, and I found myself matching my pace closely to the beat. Little by little, I extended my stride. I still hated that blasted brace, but I was moving again.
The sheer elation of realizing that, in the face of defeat, I had gotten back up and started running again washed over me. For a few moments, it was as if I didn't feel anything. I was just a body running down a trail, as if I were in some surreal movie scene presented where the character moves through the frame gracefully while the soundtrack is silent. Then, almost as quickly as that sensation began, it ended. The full force of the cold wind swept across the surface of the lake and cut into me like a knife. I reached into my pockets and pulled out my gloves. That's when I realized where I was on the trail--I was not far from the dam end, yet Mrs. F had not yet passed me on her return. For a moment, I worried that something may have happened to her, but then I figured that she likely just ran a bit further ahead, across the road and further down the trail.
Sure enough, just as my turnaound point came into sight, I saw her crossing the road and heading my direction. When she reached me, she turned again to run with me, back to the end of that section of trail. A song had just ended, and I told her I was going to restart it, since I lost time to the bench. I reached the end, and turned around.
For some reason, that turn made me feel as if we were starting all over again. For the next five to eight minutes, I struggled again to maintain my pace, but I seemingly did so, staying within 10 feet of Mrs. F throught the repeated song, and into the next one. Yet I could not maintain that pace, so she eventually pulled ahead. The pinching pain and constricting discomfort were still there now, but they seemed less prominent in my mind. The run began to feel good, and I enjoyed watching the whitecaps marching across the water. Another song, another burst of energy, and then a slow pace again. I played games with my pacing to keep myself going--faster, slower, a little faster, faster still--and it worked.
As the final song began, I saw the landmarks that told me that the end of the run was near. I could not muster the same strength I discovered on Monday to finish the day, but I maintained a strong run. Mrs. F, again, lovingly circled back to me so that we could finish together. The final bars came with some meters yet to go. "Your're done," I told her, knowing she had run four or five extra minutes. I continued on to the end of the trail before slowing to a walk.
Today's run left me with mixed emotions--I had given up, but yet I was able to restart again (not just once, but twice!). I was able to run when the easier option would have been to walk toward the car. I was able to run when I could have claimed a legitimate reason for stopping and staying stopped. Yet I ran. Oh, does that ever feel good!
So, when Friday comes, I know one thing for certain: I'm leaving the patellar stabilizer at home. I'll wrap it again in the manner I did on Monday, and I'll use masking tape again to fashion my own stabilizer. Oh, yes, I'll call the sports medicine practitioner to see if they have one in a bigger size. If not, I may go a little MacGyver on the brace and cut a big hole in the back, to prevent it from bunching up before giving it another try.
All in all, a difficult run, but I'm glad I got back up and finished it. I may not have finished today's 28 minutes without walking, but I did win a significant victory today. I was defeated--almost--but I got back up again.
Day 51 (week 8) - the brace is here
When I got home for lunch today, I noticed a package sitting on a stool near the door. Sure enough, it was my patellar stabilizer. Now I'm really looking forward to getting out there and giving it a try--even in the cold and the rain! We'll see how the run goes after work this evening.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Day 47 - back from the doctor
Well, the visit to the sports medicine doctor was helpful, even if the prognosis wasn't entirely black and white. She doesn't like the range of motion (the lack thereof) I have in my hips. She feels that the most likely cause of my pain is a weakness in the muscles that help keep the knee cap tracking properly. Years of walking with my legs splayed wide made my glutes stronger than the balancing muscles, and that is the likely cause of the pain. She dismissed cartilege issues as being a possibility, becuase she noted that the pain is actually above the joint line.
So, what do sports medicine doctors prescribe most often? Therapy...and a specific knee brace. Yes, I'll need to get in to two therapy sessions a week. We'll start with a gait analysis, and then move into flexibility and strengthening exercises. If that doesn't help moderate the pain over the next few weeks, then we'll consider an MRI. This is a knee I injured 23+/- years ago, and I had orthroscopic surgery on it at that time. If it was actually clicking or locking while I was running, she'd push for the MRI now. We both agreed that we can cross that bridge if the therapy does not help.
My new knee brace will be a patellar stabilizer. She wants to keep the patella (knee cap) from sliding too far to the outside. I say "will be" because the largest one they had in the little clinic I visited today was too small. When they visit their main clinic on Monday, they'll drop one in the mail for me. I'm going to ice and rest my knee over the weekend, and I plan to run on Monday with my double wrap in place. I'm relieved that she didn't put any restrictions on my training.
So, that news was good, and I'm pleased to have lost a few more pounds this week. Now if I could only do something about our uber-screaming, furniture-climbing, fast-walking infant!
So, what do sports medicine doctors prescribe most often? Therapy...and a specific knee brace. Yes, I'll need to get in to two therapy sessions a week. We'll start with a gait analysis, and then move into flexibility and strengthening exercises. If that doesn't help moderate the pain over the next few weeks, then we'll consider an MRI. This is a knee I injured 23+/- years ago, and I had orthroscopic surgery on it at that time. If it was actually clicking or locking while I was running, she'd push for the MRI now. We both agreed that we can cross that bridge if the therapy does not help.
My new knee brace will be a patellar stabilizer. She wants to keep the patella (knee cap) from sliding too far to the outside. I say "will be" because the largest one they had in the little clinic I visited today was too small. When they visit their main clinic on Monday, they'll drop one in the mail for me. I'm going to ice and rest my knee over the weekend, and I plan to run on Monday with my double wrap in place. I'm relieved that she didn't put any restrictions on my training.
So, that news was good, and I'm pleased to have lost a few more pounds this week. Now if I could only do something about our uber-screaming, furniture-climbing, fast-walking infant!
Day 47 (week 7) - a dreadful run
Since the kids are out of school and I have the day off from work, we decided to sleep in a bit and headed out for our run at about 8:15 AM. For me, it was a miserable run.
Getting out of bed and walking through the house, my knee felt mostly okay. I took extra time wrapping it today, being sure to make sure the wrap layers criss-crossed in front of my knee, to help minimize any rotation. I finished dressing, did some stretching, and headed out.
We were already on the trail before I realized that I hadn't started the podcast, so I got it going and noted that we'd be walking a bit further than on a normal day. Other than feeling dead tired and not wanting to run, the first part of the run was not too bad. My legs definately did not want to be up and running, but I reminded myself that more seasoned runners report that the first ten minutes are often miserable. My left knee was feeling okay. I could tell it was more agitated than it had been coming into the week, but I figured it wouldn't be too bad. Unfortunately, I figured wrong today.
My breathing was a bit more labored in the beginning, and it did not seem to settle into a rhythm until about eight minutes in. This is the first day I've had to pay attention to my breathing in a while, and it didn't make me feel more confident about today's run. While my breathing settled down, my fatigue level seemed to increase. I felt pretty good about my pace for the first third of our distance--I almost kept Mrs. F in sight through our turnaround point. As she circled back to meet me, I remember telling her, "I feel dead."
I had really wanted to stop during the first five minutes, but I managed to keep going. Now, as I reached our turnaround point, I found my internal dialogue saying, "Don't stop now. Just get to the half-way point." I kept going.
When I got to the half-way point, my knee was really starting to bother me, and it was affecting my stride. I so much wanted to stop and walk, knowing that I was already thinking about a sports medicine appointment, but my blasted stubbornness would not let me walk. Oh, how I wanted to walk!
Mrs. F circled back a few more times, but I don't really remember them clearly. I was struggling so much just to keep moving, that I could not pay attention that much. Afterwards, she said that she could see me speed up as she approached. I do know that her presence helps me feel like I can make it.
As the moments dragged on, my pace slowed. I watched Mrs. F's footfalls and shortened my stride to match her pacing. That helped for a bit. I tried running more on the fronts of my feet, as I would in a sprint. That definately felt better on my knee, but I could not maintain that for very long. I noticed that my right foot was rolling through each stride, but that my left was landing mostly flat and did not seem to be flexing much at all. It felt like I was trying to run with a peg leg.
At some points, my feet were barely leaving the ground. I could tell because they were scraping the trail as I moved them forward. I so wanted to walk. At one point, I just wanted to let me legs go and I wanted to collapse right on the trail. With everything I had, I concentrated on making sure I was landing with only one foot on the ground. I did not want to walk. I did not want to jog. I wanted to run. I don't know if I was successful at all times, but I have to believe that I was running, no matter how slowly, or how poor my form.
I was about 10m short of the road when the final minute was called--about 10m short of where we were on Wednesday at the same time. Even though I was miserable, I pushed myself to go faster. I abandoned my shorter stride and was determined to ignore my knee, even though I know that doing so could be really bad news. Yet, the faster I went, the better my legs felt. As I reached my sprint, I was at the end of my strength, but I kept going. I wasn't going to end this thing limping to our car. I wasn't going to fall down on the trail. I was going to finish this thing at a full-blow, all-stops-pulled run, and that's what I did. I'm nothing if not stubborn, but, for once, I was going to use that stubbornness to help me rather than to hold me back.
I've had a lot of history of not finishing things. Most often, they were times when I bit off more than I could chew, but I could not see that at the time. All I knew then was that things would get to be too much, and I would just walk away. After years of doing that, it became an unwritten script in my head. I began to expect that I would not finish things. Other than my marriage, which has been going strong for 16+ years (thank God), my mind is full of memories of things I failed to finish. My mind keeps trying to tell me that this will be just another one of those things, and I'm desperate to disprove that internal dialogue! If I'm deliberate in thinking on my past, I can find many things I carried through and finished, but those are not the memories that cloud my mind. The failures--those are the things that have embedded themselves in my thinking. They've shaped how I see myself, and I often fear I'll never be able to get away from them.
In the running discussions I've been frequenting, I've read so many others encouraging people to take a break, or repeat a week as needed. I've resisted that. I think it's because I fear failing--I fear not finishing this program. Yet, in the better parts of my mind, I know that it is not a failure that dictates who we are--it is whether we are willing to get up and try again. Perhaps my biggest fear is not that I will not finish, but that, should I not finish, that I would not have the strength to get up and try again.
This has been a very hard morning for me. I don't know how I can go on, but I must. I keep telling myself that I don't have a choice, but I do. I really do have a choice. I just keep saying that "I don't have a choice" because I'm afraid I won't make the right one. If I take away my choice, I take away failure as being an option. At least, that's the way my twisted mind works right now. I don't have a choice but to give myself no choice.
Do you know how much I want a Ho-Ho (or three) right now?
Getting out of bed and walking through the house, my knee felt mostly okay. I took extra time wrapping it today, being sure to make sure the wrap layers criss-crossed in front of my knee, to help minimize any rotation. I finished dressing, did some stretching, and headed out.
We were already on the trail before I realized that I hadn't started the podcast, so I got it going and noted that we'd be walking a bit further than on a normal day. Other than feeling dead tired and not wanting to run, the first part of the run was not too bad. My legs definately did not want to be up and running, but I reminded myself that more seasoned runners report that the first ten minutes are often miserable. My left knee was feeling okay. I could tell it was more agitated than it had been coming into the week, but I figured it wouldn't be too bad. Unfortunately, I figured wrong today.
My breathing was a bit more labored in the beginning, and it did not seem to settle into a rhythm until about eight minutes in. This is the first day I've had to pay attention to my breathing in a while, and it didn't make me feel more confident about today's run. While my breathing settled down, my fatigue level seemed to increase. I felt pretty good about my pace for the first third of our distance--I almost kept Mrs. F in sight through our turnaround point. As she circled back to meet me, I remember telling her, "I feel dead."
I had really wanted to stop during the first five minutes, but I managed to keep going. Now, as I reached our turnaround point, I found my internal dialogue saying, "Don't stop now. Just get to the half-way point." I kept going.
When I got to the half-way point, my knee was really starting to bother me, and it was affecting my stride. I so much wanted to stop and walk, knowing that I was already thinking about a sports medicine appointment, but my blasted stubbornness would not let me walk. Oh, how I wanted to walk!
Mrs. F circled back a few more times, but I don't really remember them clearly. I was struggling so much just to keep moving, that I could not pay attention that much. Afterwards, she said that she could see me speed up as she approached. I do know that her presence helps me feel like I can make it.
As the moments dragged on, my pace slowed. I watched Mrs. F's footfalls and shortened my stride to match her pacing. That helped for a bit. I tried running more on the fronts of my feet, as I would in a sprint. That definately felt better on my knee, but I could not maintain that for very long. I noticed that my right foot was rolling through each stride, but that my left was landing mostly flat and did not seem to be flexing much at all. It felt like I was trying to run with a peg leg.
At some points, my feet were barely leaving the ground. I could tell because they were scraping the trail as I moved them forward. I so wanted to walk. At one point, I just wanted to let me legs go and I wanted to collapse right on the trail. With everything I had, I concentrated on making sure I was landing with only one foot on the ground. I did not want to walk. I did not want to jog. I wanted to run. I don't know if I was successful at all times, but I have to believe that I was running, no matter how slowly, or how poor my form.
I was about 10m short of the road when the final minute was called--about 10m short of where we were on Wednesday at the same time. Even though I was miserable, I pushed myself to go faster. I abandoned my shorter stride and was determined to ignore my knee, even though I know that doing so could be really bad news. Yet, the faster I went, the better my legs felt. As I reached my sprint, I was at the end of my strength, but I kept going. I wasn't going to end this thing limping to our car. I wasn't going to fall down on the trail. I was going to finish this thing at a full-blow, all-stops-pulled run, and that's what I did. I'm nothing if not stubborn, but, for once, I was going to use that stubbornness to help me rather than to hold me back.
I've had a lot of history of not finishing things. Most often, they were times when I bit off more than I could chew, but I could not see that at the time. All I knew then was that things would get to be too much, and I would just walk away. After years of doing that, it became an unwritten script in my head. I began to expect that I would not finish things. Other than my marriage, which has been going strong for 16+ years (thank God), my mind is full of memories of things I failed to finish. My mind keeps trying to tell me that this will be just another one of those things, and I'm desperate to disprove that internal dialogue! If I'm deliberate in thinking on my past, I can find many things I carried through and finished, but those are not the memories that cloud my mind. The failures--those are the things that have embedded themselves in my thinking. They've shaped how I see myself, and I often fear I'll never be able to get away from them.
In the running discussions I've been frequenting, I've read so many others encouraging people to take a break, or repeat a week as needed. I've resisted that. I think it's because I fear failing--I fear not finishing this program. Yet, in the better parts of my mind, I know that it is not a failure that dictates who we are--it is whether we are willing to get up and try again. Perhaps my biggest fear is not that I will not finish, but that, should I not finish, that I would not have the strength to get up and try again.
This has been a very hard morning for me. I don't know how I can go on, but I must. I keep telling myself that I don't have a choice, but I do. I really do have a choice. I just keep saying that "I don't have a choice" because I'm afraid I won't make the right one. If I take away my choice, I take away failure as being an option. At least, that's the way my twisted mind works right now. I don't have a choice but to give myself no choice.
Do you know how much I want a Ho-Ho (or three) right now?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Day 46 - late entry - the bad knee
Well, I picked up my textbooks. When I got back home and went to sit down in my chair, my jeans gripped a bit as I bent to sit, and I got a flash of pain in the knee. I'm going to see what it's like in the morning, but am pretty sure I'm going to try to see the sports medicine practitioner at the local clinic tomorrow, if they have any same day openings.
I've been doing a bit more reading on running (mostly links from coolrunning.com), and some reading on running-related injuries. I could not pigeonhole my particular symptom, but I did note many admonitions for new runners not to ignore pain--something seasoned marathon runners and other endurance runners often mention that they do. Those endurance runners can do it because they are more attuned to themselves, and are already working with their bodies in good condition. Someone like myself, on the other hand, a newbie, shouldn't risk it.
Mrs. F asked if I wanted to postpone our run to Saturday. My preference is to still give it a try tomorrow, so long as the knee is feeling pretty good when I get up and when wrapped. If anything, we might postpone until later in the day. I already know that we won't be out until closer to 7:30 AM, since there's no time press to get the kids off to school or me to work in the morning.
Aside from NSAIDs (like Ibuprofen), ice, and rest, what else can help a sore knee? Or does the answer really depend on the specific nature of the problem (e.g., tendinitis, worn cartilage)?
I've been doing a bit more reading on running (mostly links from coolrunning.com), and some reading on running-related injuries. I could not pigeonhole my particular symptom, but I did note many admonitions for new runners not to ignore pain--something seasoned marathon runners and other endurance runners often mention that they do. Those endurance runners can do it because they are more attuned to themselves, and are already working with their bodies in good condition. Someone like myself, on the other hand, a newbie, shouldn't risk it.
Mrs. F asked if I wanted to postpone our run to Saturday. My preference is to still give it a try tomorrow, so long as the knee is feeling pretty good when I get up and when wrapped. If anything, we might postpone until later in the day. I already know that we won't be out until closer to 7:30 AM, since there's no time press to get the kids off to school or me to work in the morning.
Aside from NSAIDs (like Ibuprofen), ice, and rest, what else can help a sore knee? Or does the answer really depend on the specific nature of the problem (e.g., tendinitis, worn cartilage)?
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Day 45 (week 7) - evening run
It has been one crazy evening! I got off work about 4:30 PM, an hour later than I had hoped. Getting home, I took in the quick news from the home front, including the updates on the sick ones, got changed, and managed to get out the door at just about 5 PM.
After our run, we stopped at the local grocery store and grabbed a couple of items, only to realize that neither of us had our cards with us (I only carry my license when I run). As we headed out the door, we realized that we needed to get our eldest son to the area high school for pep band. So, I dropped Mrs. F. at home, drove our son to the high school. When he came out to the car, he had my wallet with him, so I headed back to the grocery store after dropping him off. I picked up the items we set aside on our earlier visit, grabbed some bags of softener salt, and headed home.
As soon as I got through the door, Mrs. F informed me that our eldest son had called--pep band had been cancelled. So, back into the car I went; back to the local high school where I picked up our son and took him home. When I got home, I set about trying to unclog the kitchen sink, and I took over finishing off supper. With everything going on around here, I'm just amazed that we get out and run at all, morning or evening.
Okay, now that I got today's melodrama out of the way, let me get to reviewing today's run. It seems that the afternoon runs have been a little easier, at least as far as my legs being ready for them. Perhaps it's being more awake, or just the fact that I've been up and moving and that my body is warm. Even so, the first eight or so minutes of the run were hard. Almost immediately upon setting out I was fighting my internal dialogue that just wanted me to take a pass and go home. After all, I had already put in a full day of work... If you've ever tried to do something really hard, or something after a busy day, you probably know how that internal dialogue progresses.
So, I managed to tell that other part of me to "Sit on it!" and I kept going. I wrapped my leg a little differently today, since it had been bothering me less, and it seemed to be adequate when we began. Right off the bat, I was much happier with my pace today. Mrs. F was still able to pull ahead of me, but I didn't feel like I was fighting just to move at a decent pace, at least at the onset.
The first eight minutes were probably the hardest of the day, at least as far as the mental battle is concerned. After about the eight minute mark (I was listening to the podcast, so the time is just a guess--it might have been a little earlier or a little later), it was still hard, but it felt better. It was the one stretch where I got to relax a bit, mentally and perhaps physically. I remember looking to the lake, at the leaves on the ground, and at the trail ahead of me. Mrs. F was now way ahead, but it didn't bother me so much right then--I was running and all was good with the world.
We were back to our regular segment of trail today, so I was excited that I got to the far end and a good distance back before I heard the half-way point announced. It felt much more like last Friday (W6D3). Mrs. F had turned around and looped back to me once, and when we reached the end of the trail she took off to the side to make a loop through the park while I turned around and started back.
The half-way point came and went. I could tell it was getting a bit harder, and my left knee was starting to hurt, but I was still feeling pretty good.
Over the next few minutes, I really started to feel fatigue in my legs and my left really started to give me some grief. I concetrated on my stride. I was able to do a little to minimize the strain, but it was simply clear that the way I wrapped it was woefuly inadequate. I soon found myself fighting not to slip into that limping jog I had experienced two weeks ago. My pace slowed even more. I whistled and waved to Mrs. F so that she would loop back again. We were getting close to the point in the trail where I typically lose sight of her on the return, and that's a point that is always tough for me.
Her presence helped, but I was slogging so much that I was barely lifting my feet as I lurched forward in each stride. I asked her if I was even still running--it's almost as if my feet wanted to switch to walking, but my legs kept pushing them too far ahead--and she said that I was. I concentrated on lifting my feet more, and I forced myself to kick my heels further back. My pace improved slightly. I knew that our starting end of the trail would soon appear. While I was amazed that I had gone so far without hearing the final minute warning (we did not double back together today as we had done on Friday), I was also getting desperate to hear that final minute announcement.
It came right as we hit our starting point. Mrs. F was only a few steps ahead of me here, and we both quickened our pace a bit. After counting out approximately 15 seconds in my head, I pushed into a sprint--not as fast or free as the one I experienced on Monday, but a sprint all the same. I was tyring to hold a bit back, because I wanted to finish the last minute without slowing down. I picked a spot on the trail ahead of me and made it my finish line. As I reached it, there was no announcement, so I picked another spot ahead of me, and tried to push even more. As I reached it, the announcement came, my arms shot into the air, and I annouced the end to Mrs. F.
I knew I had pulled ahead of her, but I did not realize by how much until I turned around. She was, perhaps 10-15 meters behind me, her hand on her side, obviously from a side ache. I had pulled ahead of her, and I had finished the final minute in a sprint!
Our cool-down walk was slightly abbreviated, because we got back to our car before the time was up, but we were both happy with having finished another 25 minute run. As we began our drive home, we realized that we had run more than 75 minutes in less than a week (Friday through Wednesday)! That's just so amazing!
Because of the sickness going through the house and some other considerations, my plans for the weekend were cancelled. That means Mrs. F and I will be running together again on Friday morning. Since I will have the day off, we're planning to go out about an hour later, perhaps 6:30 AM, to benefit from the pending sunrise. I'll be back to wrapping my knee the other way, and I'm just glad I didn't seem to make it much worse (in how it feels now, a few hours later) with what I tried today.
I may never be able to run a seven minute mile, but I'm out there, being active, and working to lose a lot of weight. I hope that running becomes easier as my weight does go down, but I also hope that I'll have the perseverance required to get me that far. Weight check will be Friday morning, and I'm hoping to see a fair loss (perhaps a couple of pounds).
Well, that's it for now. We're going to sit down together and watch Heroes, and then, perhaps a little Eureka. Apart from that, I have a date with an ice pack and perhaps a cool bath.
After our run, we stopped at the local grocery store and grabbed a couple of items, only to realize that neither of us had our cards with us (I only carry my license when I run). As we headed out the door, we realized that we needed to get our eldest son to the area high school for pep band. So, I dropped Mrs. F. at home, drove our son to the high school. When he came out to the car, he had my wallet with him, so I headed back to the grocery store after dropping him off. I picked up the items we set aside on our earlier visit, grabbed some bags of softener salt, and headed home.
As soon as I got through the door, Mrs. F informed me that our eldest son had called--pep band had been cancelled. So, back into the car I went; back to the local high school where I picked up our son and took him home. When I got home, I set about trying to unclog the kitchen sink, and I took over finishing off supper. With everything going on around here, I'm just amazed that we get out and run at all, morning or evening.
Okay, now that I got today's melodrama out of the way, let me get to reviewing today's run. It seems that the afternoon runs have been a little easier, at least as far as my legs being ready for them. Perhaps it's being more awake, or just the fact that I've been up and moving and that my body is warm. Even so, the first eight or so minutes of the run were hard. Almost immediately upon setting out I was fighting my internal dialogue that just wanted me to take a pass and go home. After all, I had already put in a full day of work... If you've ever tried to do something really hard, or something after a busy day, you probably know how that internal dialogue progresses.
So, I managed to tell that other part of me to "Sit on it!" and I kept going. I wrapped my leg a little differently today, since it had been bothering me less, and it seemed to be adequate when we began. Right off the bat, I was much happier with my pace today. Mrs. F was still able to pull ahead of me, but I didn't feel like I was fighting just to move at a decent pace, at least at the onset.
The first eight minutes were probably the hardest of the day, at least as far as the mental battle is concerned. After about the eight minute mark (I was listening to the podcast, so the time is just a guess--it might have been a little earlier or a little later), it was still hard, but it felt better. It was the one stretch where I got to relax a bit, mentally and perhaps physically. I remember looking to the lake, at the leaves on the ground, and at the trail ahead of me. Mrs. F was now way ahead, but it didn't bother me so much right then--I was running and all was good with the world.
We were back to our regular segment of trail today, so I was excited that I got to the far end and a good distance back before I heard the half-way point announced. It felt much more like last Friday (W6D3). Mrs. F had turned around and looped back to me once, and when we reached the end of the trail she took off to the side to make a loop through the park while I turned around and started back.
The half-way point came and went. I could tell it was getting a bit harder, and my left knee was starting to hurt, but I was still feeling pretty good.
Over the next few minutes, I really started to feel fatigue in my legs and my left really started to give me some grief. I concetrated on my stride. I was able to do a little to minimize the strain, but it was simply clear that the way I wrapped it was woefuly inadequate. I soon found myself fighting not to slip into that limping jog I had experienced two weeks ago. My pace slowed even more. I whistled and waved to Mrs. F so that she would loop back again. We were getting close to the point in the trail where I typically lose sight of her on the return, and that's a point that is always tough for me.
Her presence helped, but I was slogging so much that I was barely lifting my feet as I lurched forward in each stride. I asked her if I was even still running--it's almost as if my feet wanted to switch to walking, but my legs kept pushing them too far ahead--and she said that I was. I concentrated on lifting my feet more, and I forced myself to kick my heels further back. My pace improved slightly. I knew that our starting end of the trail would soon appear. While I was amazed that I had gone so far without hearing the final minute warning (we did not double back together today as we had done on Friday), I was also getting desperate to hear that final minute announcement.
It came right as we hit our starting point. Mrs. F was only a few steps ahead of me here, and we both quickened our pace a bit. After counting out approximately 15 seconds in my head, I pushed into a sprint--not as fast or free as the one I experienced on Monday, but a sprint all the same. I was tyring to hold a bit back, because I wanted to finish the last minute without slowing down. I picked a spot on the trail ahead of me and made it my finish line. As I reached it, there was no announcement, so I picked another spot ahead of me, and tried to push even more. As I reached it, the announcement came, my arms shot into the air, and I annouced the end to Mrs. F.
I knew I had pulled ahead of her, but I did not realize by how much until I turned around. She was, perhaps 10-15 meters behind me, her hand on her side, obviously from a side ache. I had pulled ahead of her, and I had finished the final minute in a sprint!
Our cool-down walk was slightly abbreviated, because we got back to our car before the time was up, but we were both happy with having finished another 25 minute run. As we began our drive home, we realized that we had run more than 75 minutes in less than a week (Friday through Wednesday)! That's just so amazing!
Because of the sickness going through the house and some other considerations, my plans for the weekend were cancelled. That means Mrs. F and I will be running together again on Friday morning. Since I will have the day off, we're planning to go out about an hour later, perhaps 6:30 AM, to benefit from the pending sunrise. I'll be back to wrapping my knee the other way, and I'm just glad I didn't seem to make it much worse (in how it feels now, a few hours later) with what I tried today.
I may never be able to run a seven minute mile, but I'm out there, being active, and working to lose a lot of weight. I hope that running becomes easier as my weight does go down, but I also hope that I'll have the perseverance required to get me that far. Weight check will be Friday morning, and I'm hoping to see a fair loss (perhaps a couple of pounds).
Well, that's it for now. We're going to sit down together and watch Heroes, and then, perhaps a little Eureka. Apart from that, I have a date with an ice pack and perhaps a cool bath.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Day 23 (week 4, day 2)
Well, I came home after a meeting last night to find Mrs. F lying in bed with bags of frozen corn placed on each leg just below the knee. She's been popping Ibuprofen every six hours and has been icing (corning?) that area of her legs regularly to try and reduce any inflamation. She's hoping she'll be able to complete tomorrow morning's workout.
I had been feeling fine all day today, but shortly after I got home, I developed a pain in/below my right knee. I don't know if I twisted it in the kitchen getting ready for supper, or if I strained it at work today walking to the remote office and taking the stairs up and down. So, here I sit, with a bag of frozen corn on my right leg. We're a funny sight, the two of us, positioned across the room from each other, each with our own laptops, and each with a bag of corn on a leg.
I'm just hoping I turned it funny and that tonight's rest will clear it up. I've been looking forward to making another go of it tomorow.
If Mrs. F does have problems tomorrow, she's talked about taking the rest of the week off, or going back and repeating Week 3. I sure hope she doesn't feel the need to do that, however, because I'm not sure I can do this without her. If she does decide to take a break, or a repeat, I'd want to press on because I don't want to lose my forward momentum, but at the same time I would not want to leave Mrs. F without a partner and I'm not sure I could handle both workouts in the same day.
I'm going to hope and pray that Mrs. F's legs don't bother her tomorrow--for her sake and my own. I'm also hoping that my leg will be fine. Only the morning will tell. If the kids are done with their chores by 7:30 PM, we'll watch a family movie together, and be in bed by 9 PM.
I had been feeling fine all day today, but shortly after I got home, I developed a pain in/below my right knee. I don't know if I twisted it in the kitchen getting ready for supper, or if I strained it at work today walking to the remote office and taking the stairs up and down. So, here I sit, with a bag of frozen corn on my right leg. We're a funny sight, the two of us, positioned across the room from each other, each with our own laptops, and each with a bag of corn on a leg.
I'm just hoping I turned it funny and that tonight's rest will clear it up. I've been looking forward to making another go of it tomorow.
If Mrs. F does have problems tomorrow, she's talked about taking the rest of the week off, or going back and repeating Week 3. I sure hope she doesn't feel the need to do that, however, because I'm not sure I can do this without her. If she does decide to take a break, or a repeat, I'd want to press on because I don't want to lose my forward momentum, but at the same time I would not want to leave Mrs. F without a partner and I'm not sure I could handle both workouts in the same day.
I'm going to hope and pray that Mrs. F's legs don't bother her tomorrow--for her sake and my own. I'm also hoping that my leg will be fine. Only the morning will tell. If the kids are done with their chores by 7:30 PM, we'll watch a family movie together, and be in bed by 9 PM.
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