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.

Day 36 (week 6, day 1)

After making it through Friday, I thought this morning would be fairly easy (aside from knee pain, which is an issue unto itself). I was wrong. I don't know if it was yesterday's family turmoil, getting to bed late, or the 40°F reading that made it so hard this morning. In reality, it was likely a combination of the three.

My knee brace did not work out as well as I had hoped. It kept working down from the top and bunching up at the knee. It might have provided some support, but definately not that for which I was hoping. In reality, the knee only bothered me during the walking segments, but once it was agitated, it affected my run. I really need to figure out what's going on with it.

Between my legs feeling fatigued, almost from the start of the session, and the pain in my knee, it was a miserable workout this morning. I got through it, but I wanted to quit on more than one occasion. In fact, that was probably my prevalent train of thought, "I just want to give up."

Thankfully, I made it through, though it was really tough today. It wasn't my breathing. It was just my legs and feeling fatigued.

While out picking up that knee brace yesterday, we ran into some friends. I'm amazed by how you can know someone for a while and still learn more things about them. As it turns out, he's a veteran of four marathons. He was excited to learn about our secret plan. We talked a bit about how hard it was for us during the first few weeks, and how there are still some days where we feel like quitting. He mentioned that, should we ever feel fatigued, we should just consider stopping and trying again later in the day or later in the week. While I appreciated what he was trying to convey, I let him know that doing that was not an option for me because, once I stop doing something, I find it very hard to ever start doing it again. For me, missing one day would jeopardize ending the whole effort.

Yet today I seriously considered it. During the warm-up walk and the first run, I was so uncomfortable that I wondered about trying it again later in the day, when it would be warmer, and brighter, and when I would be more ready. I know myself, however, so I know that "later today" would become "tomorrow," and that "tomorrow" would become "we'll try again next week." At that point, "next week" might as well be "next year."

It's on days like today I just wish I could wake up thin, or at least with a 50lb. head start on my weight loss. I've always been big, and I've most always hated it. So many people assume that people are fat because they are lazy. When I reached my peak, I tried exercising to lose weight, but at that time even walking was painful for more than short distances. Everyone says "exercise," but that's hard to do when you have no energy and no endurance. This Couch to 5k program has been great in that is has allowed me a way to step into things, but given as had as it was during the first week, I'm pretty sure there are many out there who would have trouble completing Week 1. I'm not going to fault them, or point fingers at them. I've been there.

I'm hoping my knee settles down. I can't imagine continuing on it during the rest of the week if it continues to feel the way it does now. Yet I know I need to continue--I cannot give up. Giving up would negate everything I've gained (and lost!) thus far. I don't want to go back to being that way. I want to keep moving forward. Why must it all be so hard?