FAI

April 20 2016

Running Without Crutches – My Return to Simplicity

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?

October 14 2015

Ebbs and Flows, Highs and Lows

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 1

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.

July 28 2015

Back to the Beginning?

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 1

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?

July 9 2015

The New “Normal”

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 2

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.

April 15 2015

Goals and Such

EndureRunConquer FAI, Goals, Hip Surgery 0

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!

March 30 2015

Weekly Workouts and a Little Bit of Accountability

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 4

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!

March 26 2015

Just Like Riding a Bike… (Kind of)…

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 1

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.

March 24 2015

Where to go from here?

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 4

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?

March 1 2015

When You Have Nothing Left to Give

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 5

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.

February 24 2015

Progress, Not Perfection

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 2

“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.

January 16 2015

Identity Crisis – Newbie Runner or Seasoned Veteran?

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 0

Returning to running after a serious injury is…

[I could insert a lot of words here – including a number of expletives] but ultimately, I think that the most appropriate word is humbling.

I started my return to running about six weeks ago. My longest run so far (since surgery) was slightly over 4.5 miles. Nearly all of my runs have been on my own treadmill, in the comfort and privacy of my home.

Recently, I joined a gym that is close to my office so that I could effectively utilize gaps in my work schedule. Yesterday was the first time since I started running again that I ran at the gym. As I was leaving the locker room and walking to scope out a treadmill, I had a stunning realization. I was scared. I was intimidated. I felt like people were going to stare at me and judge me (my pace, my breathing, my awkward gait). I was self-conscious, in a way that I have never felt with running before. I finally understood how a gym (or running group) could be intimidating. In fact, I avoided the indoor track for that very reason. It terrified me.

THIS. THIS. THIS. THIS. THIS.

I have had a number of friends and colleagues over the years explain this to me when they went to take up running. They dreaded going to gym. They talked about how stupid they felt. While I tried to sympathize, I never understood it. Now I completely do.

I’m not sure if its a blessing or a curse to have my past experience to draw upon. On one hand, it provides me with the solace that I know that the so-called “seasoned” runners aren’t actually judging me. They are far too consumed with their own workouts than to pay attention to what anyone else is doing. The runners that I know aren’t generally judgmental either – they are just happy to have another person joining their ranks. On the other hand, it made me feel like I had to justify myself. Which is absolutely asinine. And so for the entire duration of my run – this back and forth continued in my head.

I think the most difficult thing about being a returning-from-injury runner is that there is the constant need for comparison. I know that it’s counterproductive and unhealthy, but as I huff and puff through my runs, I can’t help go back to a time where this would have been easy. Entwined with that need for comparison is fear – mainly, the fear that I will never get back to where I was. The fear that even after having surgery, nothing has been fixed.

It is a strange place to be in. It almost feels like some sort of running purgatory. I don’t know what my identity is as a runner anymore. Am I still a marathoner? A former marathoner? A former and hopefully soon-to-be-again marathoner? For so long, I identified myself by my accomplishments and by my race results. It’s difficult to begin forging a new running identity, one based on completely different metrics. But it has made me realize that running is running. We are all runners. I am still a runner.

December 28 2014

Year-End Updates

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 0

I have been neglecting this blog.

There are a lot of reasons for doing so – excuses mostly. I have not been diligent with my surgery updates. I have drafts of my thoughts sitting in a Microsoft Word document, but very few postings. I started a new job. I have found myself struggling to find the time (and motivation) for even something as minimal as my physical therapy exercises. So here is an attempt to catch-up.

Physical therapy has been getting progressively more difficult, with a lot of focus on balance. Every session hurts. A typical appointment at the facility lasts 1.5 hours. I have (quite literally) been working my butt off. My at-home routine is much shorter than my actual appointments, but still takes quite a bit of time. Currently, my at-home program includes the following exercises:

Front planks with side kick-out
Side planks
One leg bridges
Bird-dog
Single leg balance
Step-downs
Side squats
Front squats
Clams
Leg Raises
Walk w/ band (front/back and side/side)

In addition to stretching and strengthening, at my 12 week follow-up appointment I was finally cleared to begin a return to running program. This was the appointment that I had been waiting for since having the surgery. Although I was extremely excited to start building back up, I have found that it has also made me come face-to-face with the elephant in the room (all the things I have been able to avoid by not running) – and all of the corresponding mental challenges. Unexpectedly, this has proven to be the most mentally difficult aspect of the process to-date and by far the hardest to maintain a positive attitude about.

First run back!

Pace
While extremely slow, it is running nonetheless and for that I am thankful. It is also clear how much (read: all) of my fitness I have lost. My current pace (for a single mile) is about 2:00-2:30 minutes slower than my comfortable pace (and marathon pace) pre-surgery. I knew that this was going to happen, but it doesn’t make the struggle any easier.

Endurance
In addition to feeling extraordinarily slow, my loss of endurance adds yet another component. The return to run program begins with a 30 second run and 4:30 walk for 30 minutes. Each session you get to bump up the run by 30 seconds and decrease the walk by the same. I kid you not – even running at a pace minutes slower than my pre-surgery pace, each run session felt like a speed workout. My last session (yesterday) I finally hit 30 minutes of running with no walks.

Aches and Pains
When returning to any exercises regimen, a certain amount of soreness is to be expected. However, post-surgery, it is often difficult to determine what pain is normal pain and what pain is surgery related. The last thing that I want to do at this point is push through the “bad pain.” I also have the constant fear that this surgery may not have actually fixed the problem. So when pre-surgery pain creeps up, I start to wonder whether: (1) it proves that my hip was the issue and it is flaring up from the added movement and will calm down with time; or (2) the surgery (and 7 months rest) didn’t fix anything and there is still some unidentified cause of this issue. My patience has worn thin. I have rested. I have rehabilitated. I have slowly bumped up my exercise routine, abiding by all protocols and procedures. Now all I want is a clear answer. To know that I did the right thing. To be able to run again.

“What Could Have Been”
Compounding these issues are my thoughts about “what could have been.” 2014 was supposed to be a great year full of PRs. Even more heartbreaking is thinking about the Boston Marathon and how hard I worked to get there. The solution isn’t as simple as just re-qualifying. I qualified in 2013 for the 2015 race. There is no way I will be able to get back in BQ shape in 2015 and likely my earliest chance to requalify/run would be for the 2018 race. After missing a BQ in 2012 by 23 seconds, the first chance to actually run it would be nearly 7 1/2 years later?!? I have been toying with the idea of walk/running it this year just to at least have the experience, but I just don’t know.

Nutrition
Another vicious cycle. When I am running, I eat healthier because I want to do everything that I can for my performance. Not working out has meant a whole lot of consoling myself with junk food. In the last few months, I have developed incredibly poor eating habits. This is something else that I need to take control of (and ironically is the one thing I did have control of during this off-time and have completely neglected).

In sum, it is wonderful to be running again. But it isn’t as simple as that. I know that the key is to not compare myself now to myself pre-surgery. But it is far easier said than done. Because this is where the real fight (and my comeback) begins.

October 24 2014

Surgery Updates – Weeks 1-3

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery, Return to Running, Surgery 0

After the first week post-op, there were still a lot of highs and a lot of lows. However, the connecting thread seemed to be that as each day went by, I start feeling more and more like myself again. Like anything in life – it takes time. Sometimes the progress would come so slow that I wouldn’t even notice. But it’s amazing when all the sudden I was able to do something (without thinking about it) that I couldn’t do a week ago.

Weeks 1-2

Day 9 – Something New

At physical therapy, the stationary bike was integrated into my visit as a warm up. The surgeon said that even from the first few days post-op, I would be able to substitute the stationary bike for time on the CPM machine. However, I felt so weak and stiff for those first days (not to mention I didn’t have a bike readily accessible) that I don’t think the bike would have been very productive.

I remember sitting at my last appointment pre-op, asking about how soon I could start integrating physical activity back into my daily routine. I was absolutely thrilled when the doctor told me that I could start biking (at zero resistance) beginning the day after surgery. At the time, I was thinking that I’d be able to use the bike as a work out. I figured that after all of these months injured and constrained to the bike, I would just continue on until I was ready to run again. Stupid, stupid, me. Riding a bike after surgery is completely different than riding a bike for exercise. The purpose is passive motion, not fitness. The funny thing is, you don’t even care anymore.

Just getting on the stationary bike was a challenge. It took a lot of maneuvering and hoisting myself up with my arms to actually get situated on the saddle. Actually riding the bike also turned out to be quite challenging – as I was barely peddling fast enough to keep the machine on and the physical therapist had to keep a separate timer for me. It absolutely killed me to watch the minutes tick on by and realize that I wasn’t even cycling at a 12 min/mile pace (for those of you who don’t bike- this is NOT FAST).

Depressing – a little. Lesson of the day: you can’t compare the past (in this case, the speed I used to be able to cycle at) with the present.

Passive motion biking is NOT the same as biking

Day 10 – Bored to Tears

The tenth day post-op marked the first day I remember really starting to feel like “myself.” I was actually extremely antsy and anxious to get up and get moving. For someone who can’t sit still (just ask my husband – I can’t ever just “be”), this marked a substantial improvement from the past few days.

The problem was that by this point I was left alone to manage myself during the day – and what I was able to manage was pretty much nothing! Typically, I’m a “bored eater” and at this point I would just have been chowing down on anything. This doesn’t happen when you’re on crutches, as moving from the spare bedroom where I had set up camp, to the kitchen, was enough of a journey in itself!

Naturally, after having an unseasonably cool summer, the weather was absolutely beautiful during this stretch of time and all I could do was look out the window. Trying to stay positive was essential to surviving this stretch.

Day 11 – Easy Does It

Day Eleven marked my first return to humanity. I attended my husband’s Crossfit competition for a few hours (with much assistance). It was bittersweet – it was fabulous to get out of the house for the first time and finally get some fresh air. However, watching people work out when you are hobbling around on crutches was difficult. I don’t think I had ever been so envious!

Another thing I started to realize was how the world is not set up for people with moving limitations (and how unaware people are of what it means to be partially immobile). Bags laying haphazardly everywhere. People who abruptly walk and stop. Doors that don’t open. Limited (and far) parking. Granted, this may not have been the best setting to use as a basis of comparison- but it really started to open my eyes. Thank God for having others who were willing to look out for me – because there would be no way I could have navigated on my own.

One thing that annoyed me was when people automatically assumed that my injury was from running. Coming from people I knew, this wasn’t offensive because it was a logical question. But when a complete strangers asked… I don’t know if I have a look that just screams out “runner” or what. And yes – while running may have sped up the process (in that because I had a misshapen bone, being active in any capacity would have caused greater wear and tear) running did NOT cause my injury!

Aside from my mini outing, another monumental event on Day 11 was climbing “Mt. Everest” (the stairs that lead up to my bedroom) and actually going to sleep in my own bed!

“Relaxing”

Day 12 – A Few Steps Back

Clearly I over did it on Day Eleven. At the time it didn’t seem like I was doing very much (essentially just alternating between sitting and standing with lots of assistance). But on Day Twelve my body was extremely angry with me. I guess transitioning from not moving for hours to moving more frequently really took a toll.

When I got home from that afternoon I was absolutely exhausted, but I didn’t realize the magnitude of the harm that I did until I tried to go to sleep that night. I woke at about 2:00 a.m. in excruciating pain. Because this was the first night I had made it up the stairs and back to the actual bed, I stirred restlessly because I didn’t want wake my husband up. I was in so much pain I couldn’t think straight. It almost felt as though gravity was crushing down on my hips, causing everything to ache. I eventually decided that it would be best to move back downstairs and set myself up on the recliner with the ice machine.

Upon waking, the entire next day I was incredibly achy and sore. Even though I felt okay crutching around the previous day – I think that all that activity really did a disservice to my body. I spent all day laying around – moving back into the ice/CPM/sleep routine. All of that boredom I had felt a few days prior completely dissipated with the pain.

Weeks 2-3

Day 15 – Goodbye CPM Machine. You Will Be Missed.

It had been a battle to get insurance to cover the CPM machine in the first place, so when they finally agreed to cover it for two weeks I was ecstatic. However, the time flew by and soon I found myself saying goodbye. It was bittersweet because although I knew that the loss of the CPM machine marked a step closer to recovery, it was scary to disrupt the routine that I had created.

I think the scariest aspect was trying to make sure that I would still recover properly without a key piece of my recovery equipment. After spending three or more hours a day in the CPM machine, it seemed that there was a gaping hole in my recovery plan. While the bike was a an acceptable substitution, it also required substantially more effort.

A typical night in the CPM machine. Much more relaxing than the bike!

Day 16 – Little Victories

A week and a day post-op and I was finally allowed to add in more “substantive” exercises at PT (clamshells (without the band), bridges, steps, etc.). I was also able to ride the bike a little faster (10:14 mile down from 12:00 just a week ago). As pathetic as it may seem – I was very proud to take nearly 2:00 off my bike “mile” time. At that point, it was the only way I really had to measure progress!

Day 17 – First Post-Op Doctor Appointment

On Day 17 I had my post-op doctor appointment to have my stitches removed and to have the PA evaluate my progress. I arrived ridiculously early (my dad drove me to the appointment and he is obsessive about being on time). After my surgery, I made the mistake of forgetting to ask about accessible parking permit for my car, so we ended up having a bit of a trek from the parking garage into the doc’s office.

The PA told me that this was a very exciting day because the harsh restrictions would be lifted I would be allowed to start reintroducing regular movements “as tolerated!” This meant increasing the weight I was allowed to bear on my bad leg by about 25 lbs every 3 days until I was fully weight bearing. I was also cleared to attempt to do things that require bending (as long as I did it slowly) like putting on my shoes. What a game changer!

I also had a productive day taking care of things on my To-Do List. My dad had the entire day off work, so he was able to drive me around a bit to go to the DMV to get the handicapped sticker and to the bike store to get a skewer for the bike trainer.

However, once we got home and got the bike set up on the trainer, it turned out that this would not be an acceptable substitution this early in my recovery. The trainer was too high off the ground and was difficult to climb onto. The flexion, even on a traditional bike, was also still too great. Regular road bikes also have higher cross bars, which was nearly impossible to swing my healing leg/hip over to climb onto the saddle.

Day 18 – The Exercise Bike

After realizing that the trainer was not going to work and still having no replacement for the CPM machine, I decided that finding a cheap bike on Craigslist would be my best option. While I had a gym membership, I still was on crutches and unable to drive.

Luckily, exercise equipment is one of those things of which there is far greater supply than demand. While there is undoubtedly a bunch of junk to sort through, I found a great bike priced at just $125. After talking the seller down to $100, we had a deal and I had a new bike!

Buying the bike was the best decision I could have made. While nothing fancy, it was a bike that I was able to get on and off of without assistance. It was also incredibly convenient to be able to hop on and peddle at any time during the day. The worst part was simply the discomfort of trying to sit on it for prolonged periods of time, but I found that if I could distract myself with a magazine or a book time went by much faster.

Hands down, best purchase ever

October 13 2014

What a Difference a Year Makes

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 0

One year ago today I qualified for my first Boston Marathon and was in the best shape of my life. This morning I will be going to PT and concentrating on learning to walk again. It’s such a weird feeling to look back at pictures (and my blog entry) from last year’s marathon and think about what a difference a year makes.

Yesterday morning, I made sure to set my alarm so that I would be up and ready to catch every minute of the Chicago Marathon. If I wasn’t still on crutches I would have tried to go down to the city to watch in person, but it would have been far too taxing at this point in my recovery. So I made due and set myself up in my reclining chair with a mug of hot coffee, my favorite cozy blanket, and the dog. It proved to be an emotional day and watching coverage of the marathon was bittersweet. At times, I struggled with my own disappointments and I would be lying if I denied shedding a few tears, but all in all I was able to get over myself and get excited for those out there running their hearts out.

One of my favorite things about the morning was being able to chat online with my cousin who is currently researching in Cambodia on a Fulbright award. Aside from being ridiculously smart, she is also an avid runner and was up late streaming the race through her computer. Moreover, she has an incredible perspective and is someone I look up to as having overcome the adversity in her own life with nothing but grace and a positivity. Her encouragement helped put me at peace with my current situation and renewed my patience with the whole recovery process. She also pumped me up and made me even more motivated to do everything that I can do now to get myself healthy for the future.

NBC does a fantastic job of capturing not only the race itself, but also the spirit of the marathon and the running community. Between its coverage of the actual race, were stories of the “every day” individuals who were running. Everyone out there had a reason and a story – some running for charity, some running for PRs, and some running after overcoming their own personal challenges. I loved watching the wheelchair athletes (especially Tatyana McFadden – she’s amazing), who I never had the opportunity to watch before. It was a whole new perspective on the race reminded me of why I love the Chicago Marathon so much.

While I was following the race on TV, I also used the runner tracker application on the Chicago Marathon webpage to track my friends who were running. It was exciting to see their progress throughout the course and was the next best thing to actually being out there myself. Having run Chicago the last three years, I know every twist, turn and neighborhood by heart. As I watched the little runner icon run through Boystown and Uptown, I could feel the excitement and vibrancy of the spectators. When he made his way back downtown and then through Pilsen and Chinatown, I thought about how crucial those neighborhoods are in giving the runners a much needed boost through some of the most difficult miles of the race. As he tracked back up for the last 5k, my heart was bursting with excitement as my friends made their way up “Mt. Roosevelt.” And when the final race times posted – I thought about how nothing beats that feeling of exhaustion mixed with accomplishment.

So with that, CONGRATULATIONS to everyone who ran yesterday! I believe that every race – no matter how good or bad – changes you in some way. Everyone who was out there running (and cheering) should be proud! And to those of my friends who were also sidelined by injuries this year – focus on recovery and think about what a difference a year can make! 🙂

September 25 2014

Turning a Setback into a Comeback

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Wednesday Words of Wisdom: Turn Your Setback into a Comeback (Okay, now a day late but I’m keeping the title because this post was written on Wednesday 🙂 )

So maybe it sounds a little motivational speaker-ish and cheesy. But it’s true. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that the majority of my greatest personal accomplishments have come only after overcoming various degrees of adversity.

For example, my journey to qualifying for the Boston Marathon was both physically and emotionally trying. In fall 2012 I was injured and missed qualifying by 23 seconds. When I tried again in spring 2013, the race ended up being on an extremely hot and humid day and I ended up suffering heat exhaustion. I ran strong until about mile 17 and then my body completely broke down. I ended up walk-running the last 9 miles and at mile 26 I collapsed. I ultimately finished the race – and ended up in the back of an ambulance shortly after crossing the finish line. I was absolutely devastated. Not once, but twice, I felt like I had “unfairly” missed my opportunity. When I finally qualified in fall 2013 – my excitement was far greater than it would have been had I qualified the year before. Those setbacks also added fuel to the fire. For the next year I worked as hard as I possibly could. It finally paid off – and made finally qualifying that much more special.

“Flexing” with my pace tattoo after finally qualifying!

The same is true of non-running challenges. Studying for the bar exam was another such situation. After three years of law school, one would think that taking one more test wouldn’t be a big deal. That’s a lie. To be blunt – studying for the bar exam crushes your soul. It makes you realize how much more there is outside of law school and how arbitrary the testing process can be. And the stakes are huge – because passing the bar exam poses the final barrier between school and the rest of your professional life. While I was able to hold it together for the most part, there were many tears shed along the way. I left the exam absolutely convinced that I failed. When I finally got the results a few months later, I learned that all that self-pity and self-doubt was completely unnecessary. When I ended up taking the bar in another state three years later (long story), I approached studying with a completely different perspective. While it wasn’t anymore enjoyable the second time around, it certainly was “easier” in that I possessed a level of self-confidence that I lacked right after law school.

This pretty much sums up testing… cartoon from www.courtoons.net

My most recent challenge right now is obviously rehabbing from surgery. But returning from an injury is just one of many setbacks that a runner may face throughout their training. For some runners, the crippling struggle may be self-doubt. When I was in high-school, I used to get debilitating anxiety before cross-country and track races. I allowed this anxiety to consume me, which ultimately led me to quit running for almost eight years. For some of my friends, it’s not anxiety so much as it is a lack of self confidence. From an outsider’s perspective, it is apparent how talented they are and how much potential they have. But in their heads – they simply don’t believe in themselves. I have also have friends that have overcome incredible external circumstances – from the death of a close friend or family member to serious health issues (not injury related). While the actual circumstances may be drastically different, the commonality between these individuals after conquering these hardships is their increased self-confidence and a renewed appreciation for running.

My typical face before a cross country race in high school. I actually found other pictures of me crying, but the images were too blurry to upload.

While at the Verizon store yesterday (pre-ordering an iPhone 6!) the kid who was helping me started talking about author Malcolm Gladwell and his philosophy on what distinguishes the “very successful” from “the rest of us.” I have never read Gladwell and have no idea if this kid’s interpretation of his philosophy is correct, but nonetheless, the overall message was good and worth repeating. What he said was that those who see the greatest success are also those who fail (and aren’t afraid to fail) the most. The defining factor is that they just keep plugging along when “ordinary” people would throw in the towel. This conversation came completely out of nowhere – one minute we were talking about data and apps and the next minute the deeper questions in life – but the essence of the message was important to hear.

Found on Pinterest, which inspired this post

But words without action are meaningless. Instead, application is key. So while fumbling around with thinking about the “how to,” I extracted a few lessons I have learned from those far wiser than I am. Keep in mind that none of this is rocket science. However, despite the simplicity, it has taken me almost three decades to really understand some of these points. Since everyone loves lists, here are five key principles for turning setbacks into comebacks:

1. Progress doesn’t always look like this:

In fact, in most cases it won’t. Instead it looks more like this:

The important thing is the direction of the arrow (moving forward) rather than the various ups and downs along the way. Once we stop expecting things to always go according to plan, or according to various acceptable plans, we leave ourselves open to actual growth. Let go of your expectations and readjust accordingly. The end goal can stay the same – but be willing to change your path.

2. Learn to recognize what it in your control and what is outside of your control. While it’s important to let some things go, it’s just as important to maintain control of those things that you still can do something about.

Again using injury as an example – inevitably some things must be let go. The racing season may not end up looking the way you thought it would. It may not even exist at all. It’s wonderful to have goals, but those goals need to be readjusted realistically. Being in denial about an injury will only lead to further pain down the road (literally). But it’s just as important not to throw in the towel. Because even though the season may not have turned out the way you thought, you are still in charge of how the future will be shaped. Have you gone to the doctor? Are you going to PT (and actually doing your exercises at home)? Are you treating your body right by eating healthy? All of these things are still within your realm of control and will set you up for a stronger comeback.

3. It’s not about right now. Look at the big picture.

Refer back to the graphs above. If you isolate out any point on the graph, the picture doesn’t look that great, does it? You could be on an upward trend, but if you focus on the dips rather than the inclines, you are missing the big picture. This is true of running (and racing) as well. It’s not ever just about a single race or a single season. Most runners I know don’t commit themselves to running for just a year “just to see what they can do.” Instead, running is a lifelong sport. Sometimes goals will take years to meet. Setbacks are inevitably going to come – better to get them out of the way now, huh?

4. Everything you do affects everything you do.

This was something continuously repeated by my high school track and cross country coach and still resonates with me today. It also combines the principles of #2 and #3. Just like we are conscious of every little thing we do when prepping for a race, we must also have the same mindset when prepping for a comeback.

5. Stay positive.

I know. Much easier said and done. I am certainly no Polyanna by nature, but I truly believe that the way we frame things in our minds impacts the way that we handle adversity. My new goal has been to keep a gratitude list and commit myself to writing down five things each day that I am thankful for. It seems overly simple (and that’s the beauty of it), but it makes sense when you think of positivity as a muscle that needs to be exercised (see my previous post referencing The Positive Dog). Most of us aren’t naturally gifted athletes – I know that I’m not. To get to where I am took years of training. As runners, our sport is just as mental as it is physical. So why not train our minds the same way we train our bodies?

Again, these points don’t come naturally to me. In fact, writing this post actually ended up being an exercise in positivity for me since what I really want to do is whine about how much I miss being able to run/work out/ (walk!) But since I can’t do any of those things right now – I am going to utilize the time to do what I can – which means hitting the PT hard and changing my mindset. Because hopefully, post surgery, my own personal line graph is on an upswing.

September 18 2014

The Last Three Months… Catching Up and Slowing Down

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Catching Up

Again, I know it has been a while since my last post. For those that have been following my journey, you know that I have been batting an injury since the beginning of this year. However, I have avoided providing detailed updates in my blog because for a long time I was very uncertain as to how I was going to proceed. However, since I ultimately decided to have the recommended surgery, I would like to share my experience.

As I was struggling through the long diagnostic process and weighing my options, I found the blogs of others to be very insightful. I hope that by sharing my own experiences I am able to help others understand this often misdiagnosed injury – from diagnosis through recovery. I apologize in advance for the overly lengthy post (and for any spelling/grammatical errors)!

The Diagnosis (Spring/Summer 2014)

Since some of my past posts discuss the onset of my injury and my struggle in achieving a correct diagnosos, I’ll avoid rehashing all of the details here. In sum, I had been experiencing hip/glute/piriformis issues since early February. By June, my biomechanics became so poor that I had to stop running entirely. After months of experimenting with various alternative treatment options (physical therapy, dry needling, acupuncture, chiropractic care, ROLFing) I finally had an MRI and MRA. The imaging revealed a labral tear/detachment and femoroacetabular impingement (FAI) in my right hip. My doctor explained that this meant that the cartilage buffering the ball and socket joint in my hip had torn/detached and that this was likely caused by a misshapen bone rubbing against it (analogous to a square peg trying to fit in a round hole). The doctor also explained that this injury was not the type of injury that would resolve itself with rest. Rather, if I ever hoped to return to my former level of physical activity (which was high mileage running), it appeared that surgery was my best option. He referred me to two highly regarded surgeons for further consultation.

The consultation process further provoked a roller coaster of emotion. Leading into the first consultation, I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to have surgery. However, when I met with the first surgeon, he didn’t seem as certain. While he acknowledged that the MRA revealed the labral tear/detachment, he suggested that the root of the problem may have originated elsewhere. I left this appointment feeling upset and confused. While I certainly didn’t want to have surgery, having an answer was far better than delving back into the great unknown. From the beginning I committed myself to seeking two opinions, so I decided that it was counterproductive to react until I had the opportunity to consult with a second doctor.

My appointment with the second surgeon brought further confusion. After reviewing my imaging and performing a physical examination, he agreed with my primary doctor and believed that surgery was my best option. The one thing that caused slight concern was the fact that my symptoms were somewhat atypical for this injury. Usually, the symptoms of a labral present as a pulling/clicking/popping sensation in the groin area. For me, the majority of my pain came from the back (specifically the SI joint) and piriformis. Also, rather than experiencing chronic pain, my main complaint was severe biomechanical issues with my gait (both while running and walking). Specifically, my knee felt like it was locking and my hip felt like it was being tugged down. This was complimented by an aching SI joint. To propel myself forward, I was forced to turn my right foot entirely outward to compensate. Like my primary physician, the surgeon confirmed that this injury wouldn’t repair itself. He also explained that the longer that it went untreated, the more difficult it would be to make a full recovery. At the end of the appointment I scheduled an appointment for a cortisone injection.

The cortisone injection resulted in even more confusion. The purpose of the cortisone injection was largely diagnostic. Specifically, the injection is often used to confirm that the hip is in fact the origin of the pain. So when the injection did nothing whatsoever, I was convinced that I was again faced with the prospect of starting the diagnostic process all over. To my surprise, the surgeon still believed that based on my explanation of symptoms (the fact that my complaints were largely biomechanical and not “pain”), my limited range of motion, my imaging, and the fact that months of no physical activity combined with aggressive “alternative” conservative treatment options brought no improvement, that surgery still was my best course of action. Prior to officially scheduling my surgery, he also had me take further imaging and consult with a back specialist to firmly rule out my back at the source of pain. Once the back specialist gave me the go ahead, I scheduled my surgery date.

From the date of my last appointment through the date of my surgery, I felt as though a doomsday clock was ticking over everything I did. I didn’t really discuss the procedure with many people, other than family and a few close friends and colleagues. In short, I was in complete denial. Even the day before surgery, I still didn’t truly believe that it was going to happen. Things finally started becoming real when the post-op medical devices were delivered to my house. I spent most of the day consulting with insurance and making sure the house was set up for my recovery. I eventually fell into a restless sleep.

The continuous passive motion machine – not as scary as it looks!

Surgery Day – DAY 0 – Starting Over

The day of surgery I was absolutely terrified. I think in part, I never really believed that I would go through with the procedure, or that by some act of divine intervention it really wasn’t going to happen. When I woke up in the morning, I still felt as though I was only going through the motions.

I arrived at the hospital at about 6:30 a.m., with a check in time of 7:00 a.m. My dad had already arrived (he has a propensity for always being hours early, no matter where we are going). I am usually a pretty talkative person, except when I’m nervous. Sitting in the silence of the waiting room was surreal, as I ruminated over the fact that in just a few short hours I would be on the operating table. While the procedure itself scared me, it was the anesthesia that really freaked me out. For the hundredth time, I questioned whether I was doing the right thing and reminded myself there was still time to back out. Reality finally hit me when I was issued a hospital bracelet. At that moment, I realized that surgery, which had seemed so abstract, was finally going to happen.

A little after 7:00 a.m. the nurse called me back to the room. Everyone at the hospital was very friendly and kept me preoccupied as they ran through their list of preliminary questions. Next, I changed into a hospital gown and the nurse came over and hooked me up to an IV. The IV itself posed a bit challenging because my hands are so small. I was nervous when my entire body became chilled from the fluid, but the nurse told me that this was normal. I felt immediately better when they covered me with the heated blankets. The nurse also gave me a sedative, after which I began laughing hysterically. Shortly after, I became dazed and felt sleepy. A few minutes later, they told me that they were going to wheel me into the operating room. I was surprised because during the hundreds of times that I imagined the procedure, I thought I would already be asleep at this point. In the end it didn’t really matter, as I don’t remember much else from that time on.

When I started to wake up after coming out of surgery, I had an oxygen mask on and continued to fall in and out of a dreamlike state. I became frustrated and kept raising my hand (I’m still not really sure what I was trying to accomplish with that). It was a bizarre feeling – like being trapped in between sleep and reality. Most of the recovery part is a daze. I tried to eat a few animal crackers but my mouth was extremely dry and it was like trying to chew chalk. I had to keep gulping water and apple juice to take even the tiniest bites.

In good spirits in the recovery room

By the time I was finally released from the hospital (a little after noon), the first challenge was getting into the car. I was ultimately wheeled out in a wheelchair and then picked up and slid across the back seat of the car so that I could keep my leg straight. Getting out of the car and attempting to get into the house was a complete nightmare. It was just me and my husband, who I could immediately tell had no idea that I would be this immobilized. Our house has about five steep steps that you have to climb before you reach the front door. After quickly realizing that there was no way I would be able to climb the steps using the walker or crutches, the only means of “climbing” was to be lifted up and set on each step one-by-one on my one somewhat stable leg.

For the first 48 hours following surgery, I couldn’t lift my “bad leg” more than half of an inch. Every little movement for the rest of the day was a challenge. I felt like I was in that scene from Kill Bill where Uma Thurman is willing herself to wiggle her toe. I used all of my remaining energy to move from the ice machine to the CPM machine. Aside from the pain (which wasn’t as bad as I expected) the most notable thing was the giant weight that I felt had finally been lifted off my chest. Until it was done, I didn’t realize what a toll the looming surgery had taken on me. As soon as it was over, it was like I was a whole new person who had one goal – to recover.

My giant leg brace

Post-Op – DAY 1 – The Day I Couldn’t Get Enough Sleep

The first day post-op started with me jolting awake at 1:30 a.m. and having to use the bathroom. Of course, even if I had been able to maneuver myself at all at that point, I still couldn’t have done so because of the “boots” that you are required to sleep in. I somehow managed to lull myself into another nap until about 4:50 a.m. and decided it was finally time to get up. Because the regular bedroom is in a converted attic space, I set up a makeshift “bed” on the couch downstairs. The room that formerly was used solely for the treadmill has become my own personal dorm room – complete with a futon, reclining chair and cable TV.

These are the boots that you have to sleep with to make sure your feet stay pointed up. Yes – they are as uncomfortable as they look!

My mom came over the day after surgery to take care of me since I was completely unable to do anything on my own and my husband had to go back to work. My body still felt incredibly beat-up from the surgery (and from trying to recover) and I drifted in and out of sleep all day. No matter what I was doing, my eyelids grew heavy and I nodded off.

The one big outing on Day 1 was my trip to physical therapy. Filling out the initial consultation form was aggravating, since at this point I had to mark that there was nothing I was able to do on my own. The actual session itself was extremely low key. Since I was only about 24 hours post-op, all the therapist could do was move my leg a bit and give me some simple exercises to re-learn how to contract my muscles on the injured side. Getting in and out of the house was still a big struggle and I also still didn’t have much of an appetite.

Spending some quality time in the CPM machine

Post-Op – DAY 2 – The Day the Bandages Came Off

Day 2 started similarly to Day 1. I woke up in quite a bit of pain. My left foot (the “good foot”) and left side of my rib cage hurt quite a bit, presumably because the left side of the body had been entirely responsible for dragging the rest of my body around the house.

My mom came again early in the morning as my husband left for work. She already noted how much better I was moving on my own compared to the day before. The first two days, I couldn’t move at all without the injured side being braced by someone else. Even something as simple as getting up out of a chair became a 10 minute ordeal. By the second day after surgery, I was already moving around much better and could do more on my own.

Trying to recover from an injury is like being stuck somewhere between being a baby (learning to walk again) and being elderly (being frustrated not being able to do the simple things that you used to be able to do). In some ways, you are constantly aware of your limitations. Relying on others for everything, especially when you are used to doing everything on your own, is incredibly humbling. Even the simplest things, such as getting dressed and putting on shoes, require assistance from someone else. At other times, you have to remind yourself how limited you are. There are moments where I felt like I was making great progress…and then something would happen. For example, one day I was scooting around the house with the walker and then *gasp* I dropped my phone. Post-surgery, there were many menial things I couldn’t do – like pick things up off the ground. In such a short time your world-view shifts. A minor annoyance that you wouldn’t think twice about about on a normal day quickly became its own event.

Giant leg brace and walker – these are the tools for success!

Day 2 was also a big day because I could finally remove the bandages. Honestly, the process of removing the bandage at times hurt more than the incision itself. The actual padding was very sticky and it felt like trying to rip off a giant band aid. The initial bandage they applied was large – about the size of a sheet of paper. I was pleasantly surprised when the actual wounds themselves appeared much smaller. I also took my first shower post-op, which again took a disproportionately long time compared to the simplicity of the actual task. I actually had to wash my hair in the kitchen sink and then rinse off in the bathroom, which again made me feel like a small child.

Post-Op – DAY 3 – The Day of Gratitude

Day 3 post-op I was filled with an unusual feeling of serenity. Even though my movement was incredibly limited, I slowly began to realize how truly lucky I was. First and foremost, I realized how blessed I was to have a strong network of family and friends willing to help me. Those close to me were beyond helpful – not only assisting me with meeting my daily needs but also setting me up so that I would be able to care for myself when everyone else had to return to work.

I had my second physical therapy appointment early in the morning. Again, the therapy session was primarily focused on bringing small movement back to the injured leg. I also learned how to go up and down stairs on my crutches. While I was still not ready to attempt the steep flights of stairs inside of my house – it certainly made getting in and out of the house much easier. When you’re 28 years old, crutches also tend to draw a lot less attention when out in public than a walker! Following the appointment, I even felt well enough to make my first real “trip” outside of the house and we stopped at Starbucks on the way home. I was even able to sit inside at a table for a few minutes without too much discomfort. It was nice to feel like a real person again!

The day after surgery, my mom brought me a book called The Positive Dog. The book is fairly straightforward and discusses the importance of having a positive attitude. I’m not sure if she planned it that way, but it ended up being a great message to hear while trying to recover.

The perfect “pick me up” after a few rough days

Even my own dogs were looking at the bright side and getting used to this new lifestyle!

Post-Op – DAY 4- The Day of Relearning

By Day 4 post-op I was finally starting to feel more like myself. Sleep was still difficult and I continued to wake up in quite a bit of pain. However, I would feel much better once I started moving around a bit. I could also tell that I was on the road to recovery because I was getting extremely restless. Every other day I had been perfectly happy lounging around and sleeping, as even the tiniest amount of effort would leave me absolutely exhausted. By Day 4 I was eager to get moving! It didn’t help that the weather outside was beautiful (not quite as cold and rainy as it had been the previous days) so I actually started to feel like I was “missing out.” Sadly, my big event of the day was accompanying my husband to Sports Clips while he got his hair cut. It was so nice to be out of the house, even if it was only for about a half-hour. Otherwise I had a very lazy morning. Once I returned home, the remainder of the day was spent switching between the ice machine and the CPM machine.

Sitting with the ice pads and feet pads. Apparently, I also now like to give lots of thumbs-up.

My parents and my sister stopped by in the evening and cooked us dinner. Having guests over was a much welcome distraction from the otherwise monotonous day. Guests are even better when they do all the cooking for you!

Post-Op – DAYS 5-8 – It’s Like Groundhog Day…

The first few days following surgery, I constantly amazed myself with how much I was improving each day. On Days 0 and 1 I was wholly incapacitated – relying on others to do just about everything for me. Each day after that, my self-sufficiency improved. When evaluating my daily “wins,” I couldn’t help but think of my Facebook Newsfeed and the many baby updates (ex: “at three months, little Johnny can roll over, smile, and has mastered tummy time”). While I truly enjoy watching my friends’ children grow, as a non-parent I don’t think I ever truly appreciated the significant of these events. Now, as I reflect over my post-op accomplishments I have a renewed appreciation for those learning (and relearning) how to move. I found myself exercising great restraint in not posting every milestone (ex: “Today I could sit up by myself! Today I could bear weight on my leg! Today I was able to pick something without dropping it!) as they might seem a little odd to those that didn’t know I had surgery!

After Day 5, my progress seemed to plateau. By that time, my skill set included being able to move from seated to standing on my own, bending (albeit in an incredibly awkward position), preparing food (kind of – food preparation involved an incredible amount of hopping around on one foot and setting food items on the counter, then pushing it forward, hopping to it, and pushing the item forward again) and generally navigating around the first floor of my house. My greatest fear during these days was forgetting to be careful with the injured leg and making abrupt or awkward movements that would irritate my healing. There were a few times where I moved to abruptly and my body was very quick to remind me how weak my leg still was!

Another thing that didn’t seem to be improving was sleep. According to the post-op guidelines, you are supposed to sleep in the “boots” for an entire month following the surgery. Since my first day post-op, at best, I had horribly restless sleep. Without fail, each night I would wake up sometime between 1:30 and 3:30 a.m. Upon waking, I would feel incredibly uncomfortable and wanting to jump out of my skin. Even when I could fall back asleep, I would wake up again as soon as someone could take me out of the boots. I also continued to wake up with my ribs on the left side (the side opposite of my injury) hurting. Since the pain had continued for more than a week, I did go to the doctor to rule out anything serious (just to be safe) since the weeks after surgery you are more susceptible to complications. Luckily (and as I suspected), the pain was likely just a side effect from the medicine.

Finally a workout I could do – Sit and Be Fit!

I entered into 2014 with aggressive goals on all fronts. As the months continued to pass, I was forced to put on the breaks and reevaluate my expectations with regard to training. While some years plod away like a marathon and others fly by like a sprint – this year has felt very much like a fartlek run. A fartlek workout (“speed play” in Swedish) is characterized by continuously switching paces from fast to slow throughout the run. Like the fartlek, this year has had moments of weakness punctuated by moments of great strength. As with any workout, I am certain that the strength built (and rebuilt) through this experience will only make me stronger and more motivated moving forward.

Instead of inundating my blog with surgery related entries – I decided that I would rather post longer and more comprehensive posts less frequently. There are so many other exciting things happening in the fitness community and I want to make sure to stay tuned in. 🙂

August 29 2014

Muscle Memory

EndureRunConquer FAI, Hip Surgery 0

As athletes, much of our training is centered around the concept of muscle memory. This is why most great training plans incorporate marathon pace (or goal race pace) miles throughout the training schedule. In plain terms, the idea behind muscle memory is that one’s body adapts to repeated stress in such a way that it is able to replicate the task (or in the runner’s case, pace) without conscious effort. While the science behind this phenomenon is far more complex that I am able to explain (there was a reason I went to law school and not medical school), I find it absolutely fascinating how our bodies operate.

Being injured has made me especially attuned to my own body. Every step I take, I am thinking about how my legs are moving and am hyper-sensitive to any peripheral aches and twinges. Admittedly, because I had only dealt with minor injuries in the past, I had developed many bad habits – not warming up, not stretching, not foam rolling, not sleeping – generally just not taking good care of myself. Running 50-70 mile weeks, this simply wasn’t sustainable. Combined with forcing outdoor runs in horrible wintery conditions (the stupidity of this is a subject for another day), I was constantly pitting myself against external stressors. Eventually, my body decided that it had enough. While it took years to get myself into peak shape – it only took weeks to lose almost all of my cardiovascular fitness. The few runs I have tried have been extremely humbling. My legs remember the pace they want to run at. Unfortunately, my lungs do not.

Today marked my third run in ten weeks. Every step of this run was a battle. My muscles remembered how to run but my legs feel wonky and my lungs burned the entire time. At this point, it’s all about patience.

It’s crazy to think that just a few months ago, I was able to crank out a 20-mile run like it was nothing. In the last three months, I have maxed out at 2 miles. But I am absolutely fascinated that on each of these three, very painful runs, my body wanted to jump right back to where it left off. It incorporates an entirely new mental element to my runs – the dissonance between where my body thinks it is, where it actually is, and where it wants to be.

When I get back to training, there are so many things that I will do differently. My body works hard and it deserves TLC. Everything I do – pre-run, post-run, and everything in between, will be different. It will be deliberate – no more just going through the motions. Stretching, icing, strength training, cross-training. All of the things I didn’t do because they “took time away from running.” Do you know what else takes time away from running? Being injured and not being able to run! In retrospect, it seems obvious. Unfortunately, sometimes we have to learn lessons the hard way.

I can’t wait to be able to push myself again. Not only with running, but in cycling, swimming (or learning to swim), CrossFit, yoga, or any other athletic endeavor I come across. Silver lining – the void in my Saturday mornings is over – college football starts tomorrow!

August 23 2014

Crashing the Pity Party!!!

EndureRunConquer FAI 2

This week proved to be really challenging on the injury front. Aside from the physical pain, it has been really tough to not let my emotions get the best of me. Sometimes, I feel more like I’m 8 instead of 28. I wish I could throw a temper tantrum. Scream. Kick. Yell.

Its not fair!

Really, it’s time to get myself together. Problem #1 is that I’m still in denial. Even though it’s clear that I’m not running Chicago this year, I still haven’t been able to muster up the courage to defer my entry. I have logged on the Chicago Marathon registration page many times, but I just can’t bring myself to click that one last button to make it “official.” I don’t even want to being to talk about what I’m going to do (or not do) for Boston. One step at a time. Quite literally.

This week I completely fell off the “workout wagon” while I was having my little pity party. It started last weekend when I intentionally took the weekend off per the doctor’s advice. I wasn’t feeling great on Monday and then the rest of the week seemed to slip on by as well. However, I have been 100% focused on rehabilitating my injury. This was how the week ended up looking:

Monday: Chiropractor/Electro-stim

Wednesday: Chiropractor/Electro-stim

Friday: Chiropractor/ 60 minute ROLFing session

Saturday: 70 mile bike ride (back on the workout wagon)!/ acupuncture

At this point, it seems that the biomechanical breakdown is completely related to my hip and all the other issues are just referral. Yikes. It’s so strange to me that where it “hurts” is not actually where the issue itself is coming from.

This morning’s ride ended up going well. It was extremely humid out and my legs were a little dead from taking the time off these last few weeks, so I had to be extra conscious about staying hydrated (one of my worst habits as a runner). We ended up joining a pack of cyclists for a little bit and followed them off the usual course for part of the ride. It was nice to get off the trail and see some new landscape. I am so happy that I bought my bike when I did – my long bike rides have been the closest thing I have been able to do to simulate the long run. The hardest thing with cycling is that you have to go so much further (and spend so much more time) on the saddle to get the comparable effect of a run.

The Whole 30 challenge went well for a few days, but I slipped up a bit last week. I’m hoping to start back strong with that again too. I just got back from the store and bought tons and fresh fruits and veggies and made it a point to chop them up all right away so I’m more inclined to grab them as as snack. Really, it ends up being so much about convenience so I’m doing what I can to set myself up for success.

August 14 2014

“Test Run”

EndureRunConquer FAI 1

It had been exactly 74 days since my last run (not that I was counting). Today, I broke the chain and actually ran, albiet a very modest 1.5 mile jaunt around my neighborhood.

Lesson #1 – As great as a workout as cycling can be, it has NOT maintained my cardio!

Despite the humbling experience this morning was, I can’t reduce to words the simple joy that came when my lonely running shoes reunited with the pavement. Pace didn’t matter. For those 12 minutes, it was just me (okay, just me with Lil Wayne blaring through my headphones) and the early morning city streets. I was actually surprised that despite the cardiovascular huffing and puffing, my legs easily found their regular pace. Oh, how I’ve missed the simplicity of running!

On the down side, even after a cortisone shot, I don’t think that the symptoms have improved. One of the most challenging things throughout this process has been trying to describe how I feel. Anywhere I go, the first question is always the same – “on a scale of 1-10, how would you rate the pain?” As I’ve been trying to explain for the past 6 months, IT’S NOT PAIN!!!!!

Is it uncomfortable? Absolutely. Does it impact my ability to function day-to-day. Unequivocally. But does it hurt? To me, pain is more akin to being stabbed in the eyeball or punched in the stomach. So most days, I am not in pain, per se. Rather, it’s constant twinges of discomfort, with the inability to actually stride out my leg. It’s almost like a pulling from the hip, a softball in the back of my hamstring, and a glass wall in front of my knee. This sensation is only intensified when I try to run. The doctors seem to think I’m crazy. What makes it even worse, is that where I actually feel the twinges has been very transient. On some days, I feel it more in the back/SI joint and on other days, I feel it in the piriformis.

Lesson #2 – Inaction is harder than action

As I have said before, I am a doer. I am okay with challenges, as long as I feel as though I can do something about them. The absolute most difficult thing about this entire process has been coming to terms with the fact that sometimes doing nothing is doing something.

When I first stopped running, I was doing everything in my power to compensate for those gaping holes in my week. Cycling, swimming, pseudo Crossfit workouts. I quickly became aggravated by the fact that without knowing exactly what was causing these issues, I couldn’t be sure that the cross-training wasn’t triggering something else. After a few weeks, I realized that this was the real deal and that this injury was going to be more than a “wait it out” sort of thing. My focus has now shifted away from grasping at straws to maintain some level of fitness to resigning myself to the fact that in order to truly address the issue, I need to remove all the distractions and start back at square one. For now, that means listening to the doctor’s and working to isolate the issue.

Lesson #3 – One day at a time

This has been the only way to deal with the injury. Not being able to run has been incredibly difficult. Not knowing why I can’t run and not having clear guidance on how to rehabilitate has made it almost impossible. I’ve learned that trying to predict the future is counterproductive. The only thing I can do is keep plugging along and take this one day at a time.

***Keeping my fingers crossed***

August 7 2014

Cue the Violins

EndureRunConquer FAI 0

I have attempted to write this post a few times now. Each time I start writing, my feelings get the best of me and I end up abandoning my post and distracting myself with something else (thanks Buzzfeed, Pinterest, and every other time-wasting site out there). Another reason I have avoided writing is because I am having trouble putting my feelings into words. Mainly, because I just don’t know what to think anymore.

I think I finally have an answer, albiet still not what I wanted to hear. For anyone familiar with the “Peanuts” cartoon, this whole experience has been much like Lucy yanking the football away from Charlie Brown. Every time I think that I know what is going on, some other factor comes into play and I feel like I can never really be sure. It has officially been 2 months of zero running and I am slowly starting to see everything I have worked so hard for slipping away. At first I thought it would just be a few races this spring…then my spring marathon…then my fall marathon…and now it looks like Boston will be out as well. It sounds stupid because it’s “just running,” but its a hard pill to swallow when its something I have worked so hard for.

*cue the violins*