FAI

Running Without Crutches – My Return to Simplicity

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When I first started running back in middle school things were simple. Most of us ran in oversized cotton t-shirts and mesh basketball shorts (this was long before tech fabrics made their way onto the running scene). There were no iPods or GPS watches. There was no online data tracking (heck, most people didn’t even have the internet). We did not worry about “nutrition” or “hydration.” We simply met with our classmates in the cafeteria and waited for the coaches to appear. Then we ran.

High school track meet

My high school running experience was similar. By that time I had acquired a basic stopwatch/wristwatch from Target and a spiral bound running log – but aside from days our coaches would take us out to the track there was little
concern over data collection or mile splits. We simply met as a team and ran the back roads of our small town together. Running was our therapy – our time to counsel one another about friendship, boys, and issues in school. If I were to run alone, my only option for music would be to carry around a Walkman or Discman (which for those of you who are old enough to remember – were not very fun to lug around). Most shoes were unremarkable in appearance – there were no neon colors or exciting graphics. They were just shoes.

High school cross county meet – no watch!

 Up until recently, it was unfathomable to think about running without these “necessities” I have come to know. I wear my Garmin on every run (I am ashamed to admit that I have even bagged runs in the instance that it was not charged or working). The same goes for my iPod (unless of course I am running with friends). I am obsessed with running clothes and shoes. I own more of these than I do “real” clothes. I track my data compulsively and in various formats – hard copy, Excel, Garmin Connect, Daily Mile (or any other website I have toyed around with) analyzing mile splits, distance, weather, shoes, and everything else in between. In many ways I love to see how far this sport has come and appreciate all of these devices that are available. On the other hand, have we moved so far beyond the basics that we have forgotten how to just go out and run? Are all of these running aids really just crutches?

An embarrassing amount of running swag
I was on crutches for about a month following my hip surgery (you can read more about that saga here). Over the course of those weeks I completely forgot how to walk. When my physical therapist finally cleared me to try to walk again, I was terrified. I remember taking short, tentative, baby steps, afraid to put any weight on my previously non-weight bearing body. In such a short time period I became completely dependent upon this external device. Without knowing it, I have done the same thing to myself with running. It happened so gradually that I never really noticed. First it was the iPod. Then the Garmin. After that everything else. 
I recently had to take some time off from running and training. Now that I have been cleared to start back up again, I have committed to only running with an old school stop watch so as to retrain myself to listen to my body. I have no idea what my mile splits are or what my pace is during the run. I simply run for time and by feel. (I will, however, track my run in Map My Run after the fact to determine my distance). Some runs I even leave the iPod at home. I have even learned something about myself – I actually enjoy running this way. When I have my Garmin, even if I tell myself I am running easy or by feel, I will still check it at every mile split and judge what I am doing. There is truly something liberating about not knowing any data until the run is over. 

Saying goodbye to my crutches

I know that once I am training for a race again I will go back to the Garmin (at least for non-recovery efforts). For now, however, I can honestly say that I am enjoying this new found freedom from these crutches.

Do you find yourself relying on crutches? Are you happy with technology or are you looking to return to the basics? 

Ebbs and Flows, Highs and Lows

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So I fell off the grid again. Surprisingly, a lot has happened.

Since my last post I have had incredibly highs (feeling almost *gasp* normal again, having an amazing 20 miler, winning my first road race) and some significant lows (my first DNF at my goal race – the Chicago Marathon). But all in all, the good far outweighs the bad and I am incredibly thankful to report that for the first time in almost two years I am truly hopeful.

Backtracking a bit to the 20 miler (otherwise known as the day I re-fell in love with running). Naturally, the high mileage weeks in my training cycle always seem to fall during weeks of major life events. This time, it was my sister in-law’s wedding. So the day preceding my *key* 20 miler I was up at 4:30 am (it was an early morning wedding), wearing heels, dancing, and stuffing my face with cupcakes and wine. Essentially, I did everything wrong.

I went into the 20-miler with no expectations. I was fortunate enough that it was local (part of a much larger race), so the morning rush wasn’t too chaotic. I was incredibly nervous standing at the start line. This was my first “race” since 2013 and despite having done the distance a number of times over the summer, the race atmosphere changed things somehow. My strategy was to go out with a pace group that I was reasonably certain I could easily stick with – and treat the run as any other training run. However, as soon as the gun went off and I started running, the race atmosphere got the best of me and I ended up in that euphoric state where somehow the miles seemed effortless and the time on my watch kept clicking far faster than I imagined was possible at this point in my recovery. Part of me was screaming to slow down – that I was being reckless and that I would inevitably crash and burn. However, the other part of me was quick to point out that I was okay. That I couldn’t let fear hold me back. That my body was cooperating and that I would do myself a disservice if I were to do anything but just go with it.

Beautiful pre-race sunrise – view from the parking lot

I quickly lost my pace group and caught up to the next one. So I decided to stick with them for a while to get my pace under control. Which worked for a few miles, but somehow around mile 10 I ended up ahead of that group as well.

And so I went. In what I can only describe as a zen-like state, I ran in near silence. Most of the miles I ran without music. Just me and my thoughts. During this time I realized that somewhere along the way I had become afraid to push myself. I had become so used to the pain and frustration associated with the injury that I had forgotten why I loved running in the first place.

My normal oh-so-serious self high-fived the spectators along the course. Enjoyed the scenery. Had fun. And it was my best run – by far- since dealing with this injury. It was the first time in almost 2 years that I felt “normal” again. I became choked up a number of times during the run. Overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude – because I was in shock and disbelief at what my body was finally letting me accomplish. Without pain or hesitation. I crossed the finish line in tears.

My first “normal” run since February 2013

Two weeks later, I was fortunate enough to have another great run. I signed up for a local 10k that I thought would be a good “tune up” before the marathon. I had absolutely no intention of racing it. If anything, I thought that I would run it at goal marathon pace. But again, the gun went off and that race magic set in. Again, the watch was clicking mile splits over a minute faster per mile than I expected. I had done zero speed work and was absolutely shocked that my body seemed to be holding up. By mile 4 I was exhausted, but I had hit the turn around point and was passing runners still heading the other way (it was an out and back course). The runners were smiling and congratulating me and telling me that I was the first female. They shouted words of encouragement that kept me going. I ended up finishing as first female and secured my first ever road-race victory.

Definitely not an elegant runner

Of course… with the highs come the lows. Unfortunately, the Chicago Marathon, which was supposed to be my big “come back” race, was one of them.

Even before the race started, it was chaotic. I have run the Chicago Marathon 4 of the last 5 years and never had issues getting to the start line on time. Despite leaving the hotel an hour before the start of the race, we could not get into the corral. So we stood outside, anxious and tossing layers of warm up clothing haphazardly outside the fenced off start line. The national anthem played and we were still standing outside the fence, unable to move. Everyone just kind of looked at each other and joked, “guess we’re starting the race from out here.”

Whoops – looks like Chicago owned me!

I knew from the very first mile that it wasn’t going to be my day. Nothing was clicking. My body felt out of sync and achy. I hoped that after a few miles I would shake the feeling and fall into a comfortable groove, but no such luck. At the half, I still wasn’t feeling right. Then my hip started aching and I got the familiar shooting pain from my glute and down my right leg. Every step felt forced, despite the fact I was having no trouble with the pace. So I made a decision I never would have made before this whole ordeal started. I stopped running.

My reason was simple. It had taken almost two years to finally start feeling “normal” again. It had taken 20 months of doctor’s visits and tests… PT and chiropractic care. It had only been three weeks of feeling like my old self. I know myself and I know my body. Even 100% healthy and strong, there is usually a 2-month period following a marathon to feel fully recovered. During the course of the last few weeks I finally started seeing my potential again… and it wasn’t something I was willing to throw away to simply finish a race. To prove what – to whom? I knew if I pulled the plug, I could keep myself healthy and strong and finish up 2015 in a good place (maybe even with a second marathon attempt). If I finished the race, that would have been that. It would have been triage mode until winter hit.

The worst part after stopping was waiting for my family to find me. Mile 17 of a race is never a good place to stop. My body was beat and even though I felt like I made the smart choice, my ego was bruised. I hung my head and sat on a bench near the side of the road as 40,000 runners passed. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. When my family finally arrived, I hightailed it back to the hotel, collected my things, and left. I didn’t want to have to explain myself to anyone. I was full of conflicting emotion -and found myself somewhere between heartbroken and relieved.

A few days removed from the race, I’m still bummed at how it turned out. I was really hoping for that “ah-hah” moment. For some sort of breakthrough that would just wipe the slate clean. But things don’t always go the way we plan. So instead, I am committed to staying healthy, and when the time is right, getting back out there and trying again.

Back to the Beginning?

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Last week I hit a low point. As I stated in my last post, every run for the last year and a half has been a struggle in getting my body (and specifically, my right leg) to move. It’s as though every step requires a conscious effort for the right lower quadrant of my body to keep up with the left. It’s the weirdest, most frustrating sensation that I have ever encountered. Injury is known. Pain is known. Here, I have no flipping idea what is going on.

What I can tell you is this: I am aware of my right leg almost every step. Sometimes it feels as though it is going to buckle out (no matter how slow I am going). But it isn’t a lack of strength – in fact – after my surgery the right leg became the stronger of the two. The issue doesn’t happen when I walk – only when I run. The faster I run, the quicker the symptoms escalate to the point where I feel as though I could not possibly take one more step without dragging my leg behind me. The kicker is – it has nothing to do with being tired (the left side feels like it can run forever) or winded (this will happen the second I begin running, even at a slow pace where I am barely drawing upon my cardio). I have been to primary physicians, sports-specific physicians, a surgeon (for the hip surgery, which did not help), physical therapists, acupuncturists, chiropractors, and massage therapists. I have tried techniques such as ART, ROLFing, cupping and electro-stim, with minimal, if any improvement. I have taken months off running. Nothing has helped and I have no answers.
That being said, I have been trucking along. Doing what I can when I can and dragging my bum leg along with me. This past weekend I was out for an “easy” run which was far from easy. My leg began acting up worse than it has in a while. It was hot. I was getting more and more frustrated. It was then that my secret running nemesis appeared. 
I call her my secret running nemesis because she reminds me of me before this all happened. I see her almost every day, effortlessly running throughout the neighborhood. Every time I see her, it is salt in the wound (or sweat in the eye- as was the case that day). The faster that she ran, the more my own plodding became evident. So I did the only thing that I could. I finished my run and went to my backyard to stretch. And I cried.
Surprisingly, there have only been a few times that this issue has reduced me to tears. I have tried to stay positive and to keep things in perspective. But somedays, like last Sunday, the weight is just to strong. Broken bones and stress fractures can be heart breaking, but with time they will heal. So how do you start on the road to recovery when no one can tell you what’s wrong?

The New “Normal”

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I am trying to come with terms that this may be the new “normal.”

It has been 10 months since surgery, with little to no improvement. I am still running, because at this point, what else is there? Every doctor that I have been to seems to think that from a strength/muscular imbalance standpoint I am fine. The search for answers has not only been fruitless – I have spent thousands of dollars in search for something, anything, that will give me some sort of clue of what has been going on. 
*End Rant* 
For now…
That being said, I have been running somewhat regularly. Every run is a battle with getting my right leg to “move” properly. It’s as though there is a complete disconnect between my brain and the movement in that leg. In looking at my old running logs, I have described the feeling as “wonky,” “misaligned,” “unstable,” “dis-coordinated,” and “like running in mud.” My one saving grace is that it doesn’t actually hurt (most of the time). It just simply won’t “turn on” and my muscles don’t seem to fire.      
Running fast and up hills makes the sensation almost unbearable. But my gait isn’t suffering the awful breakdown that it did last summer (which forced me to stop completely) so I will take that as a win for now. 
Amidst this endless frustration, I have taken on a new endeavor and decided to join Crossfit. I’m hoping that this new challenge will give me some sort of outlet for this built up angst. And the great thing with Crossfit is that there are no expectations – no baseline with which to compare myself. It is all new and all things I have never done before (aside from any running workout) so there is only room for improvement! It’s incredibly intimidating for me to do “new” things. Like everyone else, I don’t like not being good at things. Or feeling stupid. But that’s the great thing about Crossfit – everyone is going to have strengths and weaknesses. No one person is going to be the best at everything.

And so it goes. 

Goals and Such

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I need a new goal. 

For once, time isn’t my sole metric. Now that I am starting to increase my mileage, I have slowly noticed my fitness coming back. And to mark this re-entry into the running world, I feel like I need to do something. A race that I can run for completion and not for time. A race that I can use to gauge my current fitness. A race that I can run to actually have fun.

I am conflicted, because I have no idea what to expect from my body these days. The weird leg issues continue, but with some intensive treatment at bi-weekly chiropractic sessions, I have experienced glimmers of normalcy. Enough so that I am starting to little by little feel like my former running self. But a better version. Someone who truly appreciates the run for what it is.

Today’s run marked a new post-surgery milestone… I ran my fastest mile since before the procedure. It actually was the first mile of my 4(.3) mile run this afternoon. I started my run as normal, but felt far more winded than I should have. When I looked at my watch I saw that I was going at a pretty decent clip. However, even when I tried to adjust my pace my legs couldn’t seem to slow down. It’s like they were on auto-piolet. It was almost as though remembered their old “default” pace and just wanted to go. So I went with it for a mile or so and then I reigned it in. While I was huffing and puffing far more than I would like to admit, it was promising. In some weird way, it was like a message from my body telling me that all that hard work and all of those miles were still in there somewhere.

A picture from right after my run…it was absolutely perfect weather

Now I just need to think about what my new goal should be. Suggestions welcome!

Weekly Workouts and a Little Bit of Accountability

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Instead of jotting down my planned workouts on scrap paper (which will inevitably get lost in my giant purse), I have decided to start posting my weekly schedule on Mondays in hopes that it will keep me accountable. To be clear – I am setting this intention with the caveat that I am not going to be a crazy person (anymore) regarding sticking to a schedule. Life happens. Injury happens. Now, more than ever, I know how important it is to be listening to my body. However, what I am hoping for is that by tracking my weeks here it will keep me honest and prevent me from making excuses.

Monday –
Physical Therapy Exercises and Mobility 
30 min abs class and short run 
Tuesday –
Physical Therapy Exercises and Mobility 
Chiropractor 
Wednesday –
Physical Therapy Exercises and Mobility 
Run and Arms

Thursday – 
Physical Therapy Exercises and Mobility
60 min Yoga and Short Run

Friday- 
Day Off

Saturday –
Physical Therapy and Mobility
Long Run and Core

Sunday-
Physical Therapy and Mobility
Run

I have been really been enjoying taking classes lately to force myself to get out of my comfort zone. I have also realized that 30 minute classes are the perfect timeframe for me because they are short enough that I can still find time to squeeze in a run but long enough that I feel like I am getting a good workout. Today I took a 30 minutes abs class with a lot of work on the stability ball. I’m just waiting for the pain to set in! 

Just Like Riding a Bike… (Kind of)…

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My Saturday mornings have been restored.

A little over a week ago was my first run back on the trail with my old running group. Due to the weather (it’s still March after all) the turnout was a little sparse. This was perfect for me, as I had absolutely no idea what to expect out of this run. I arrived at the trail a little early and there were a few minutes, as I was sitting in my car, that I thought I might have a mini anxiety-attack. I had run this trail hundreds of times over the last few years, but somehow this time it seemed different. More menacing.  The problem with the post-injury runs is that they have been completely unpredictable. The only thing that has been consistent is the fact that everything still feels “off” (but that’s another story).

I am not a treadmill hater, but being back outside made me realize just how much I have missed running. Even more important, I realized how much I missed the camaraderie. Since high school and early Saturday morning cross-country races, weekend mornings have been ritualistic. Wake up. Eat a bowl of oatmeal (or banana or Powerbar). Search for whatever item got lost that morning (headphones, socks, gel pack). Hit the road. While the treadmill has allowed  me the luxury of sleeping in and running whenever I felt like (since I have only been running solo and indoors), there is something sacred about this Saturday morning ritual.

While there are times I enjoy running in solitude, there is something special about running with a group. When I am alone, I am not always a good cheerleader for myself. Sometimes a little positive reassurance from someone else goes a long way. There is also something to be said about having a constant distraction – listening to the chatter of others instead of being stuck with the same playlist on the iPod or the thoughts in your head.

Plus, waking up early and running with a group on Saturdays inevitably leads to post-run coffee or brunch. Nothing beats the satisfaction of completing a long run and celebrating with coffee an pancakes.

Where to go from here?

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I have tried really hard to be positive. To keep things in perspective. To remind myself of how lucky I am and that things can always be worse.

But today, I just need to vent.

It has been over a year since this “injury” situation started. On February 5, 2014, my running journal notes “right leg tightened, bad hip/knee.” On February 12, 2014, I make first mention of the sciatic issues. The notes about sciatic and an altered gait continue throughout February. On February 27, 2014, I fell on the ice and landed on my right hip. However, at this time I was still killing my training runs and maintaining high mileage.

My entries last March nearly all mention sciatic pain. March 10, 2014, was the last workout that I had.
By April nearly every entry mentions my right leg locking and related knots in my hamstring. In May my descriptor of choice is “misaligned.”By June I stopped running because I couldn’t do so without badly altering my gait.

The summer was a blur of doctors and diagnosis. In September 2014 I had surgery on my hip and thought that I was finally on the road to recovery. In December 2014 I was cleared to begin running again. Aside from the loss of fitness and surgery-related issues, I knew from the beginning that it just didn’t feel right. But I was determined to give it time.

I am now almost 7 months out from surgery and I am sure of one thing. This issue hasn’t resolved. What is even more alarming is that I don’t think it’s related to my surgery. It has been over a year of minimal running, and rest clearly hasn’t made a difference. The post-surgery pain is different from this bio-mechanical nightmare that has taken over my right leg. I still don’t feel like I can stride out. The leg feels difficult to control. It doesn’t hurt, but it makes it nearly impossible to run. The faster I try to go, the worse it gets. It can make even a short training run seem like hell.

Surgery was supposed to be the last resort. Prior to going under the knife, I had visited countless doctors and specialists. I had MRIs and X-rays and CT scans. I had my gait examined. But I am still having the same issues.

So now what?

When You Have Nothing Left to Give

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Today was supposed to be my long run.

I woke up, jumped on the treadmill, and started running. At a little over a mile, I was hit with a horrible stomach ache. So bad in fact, that I had to stop and regroup. I was able to jump on for another 10 minutes or so and then had to stop again. This time it wasn’t the stomach ache, but some invisible force weighing me down. And that was that. I muddled through some stretching and some core work, but my heart wasn’t in it.

Generally, running is my outlet. My sanctuary. No matter what stress or problems arise, the time when my feet are hitting the pavement create a shield from the outside world. Today was different. It wasn’t the usual fatigue of tired legs. My crabbiness and stress wasn’t energizing me or driving me. I just felt drained. Tapped out. Despite only being on the treadmill for a short time, I had nothing left to give.

This isn’t like me.

Usually I never stop mid-run. Especially without a good reason. I have run through crazy external forces (snow, hail, wind, and any other weather Chicago tends to throw my way). I have run through the most stressful times of my personal life. But I can’t recall ever stopping, just to stop.

It’s not diet. It’s not overtraining. It’s not lack of sleep. It’s not a vitamin deficiency. But somehow, I still felt like I was running on empty. Maybe it’s a lack of motivation or some underlying frustration with the fact that I am still having the biomechanical symptoms that I had pre-surgery. Maybe there was no reason and tomorrow will be a better day.

Tomorrow, in fact, I have my 6-month follow-up with the surgeon. I am fairly certain that from his perspective, everything will be healed because I can function in daily life without pain. However, the sole reason that I opted to have this surgery was for the chance to run without this biomechanical annoyances. The fact that none of this seems to be fixed is incredibly frustrating. The good news is, that every specialist that I have seen post-surgery seems to agree that since rest hasn’t made any difference, it’s okay to keep running. So keep running I shall.

Progress, Not Perfection

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“Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.” 
― Winston S. Churchill

“There are many ways of going forward, but only one way of standing still.” 
― Franklin D. Roosevelt

“It is not by muscle, speed, or physical dexterity that great things are achieved, but by reflection, force of character, and judgment.” 
― Marcus Tullius Cicero

It’s about progress, not perfection. The first time someone said this to me, it was in an entirely different, non-sports related context. However, these words have really resonated with me. So much so, that I have decided to dedicate an entire post to them.

I am a perfectionist by nature. I think it goes hand in hand with having a Type A personality. The problem with living as a perfectionist is that “perfect” is an unattainable standard. Moreover, what we define as “perfect” is subject to change at any given time. If my injury (and surgery and rehab) has taught me anything, it has been that this ill conceived notion of perfection is counter productive.

For a long time, I equated perfection with hard work. I thought that if only I worked hard enough, I would achieve whatever I wanted. But they are not one and the same. It is important to dream big dreams and to work hard to achieve them – but hard work does not necessarily lead to perfection. In fact, it rarely does. In actuality, those who work hard and dream big dreams are risking more (and therefore failing more). So if perfection isn’t the right metric to measure ourselves by, then what is?

Progress.

I am not talking only about PRs (although they are great). Progress is not defined by a single act or event. Rather, it requires looking at our training through multiple lenses and finding wins in both the exciting and the mundane. Progress also allows us to change our metric based on changes in circumstance.

For example, this weekend I had both the longest (and fastest) run that I have had since having surgery. If I were to have measured it against nearly any run pre-surgery, I would have considered it a giant failure. Instead, I am looking at how much more I am able to do now than I was able to do 3 months ago when I was only running in 30 second intervals.

But progress isn’t just about how far or how fast. It’s about everything we do and the everyday choices that we make – and committing ourselves to making sure that today is just a little bit better than yesterday.

  

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