Coming Back From The Stress Fracture, Again...

My leg hurt for nine days. And then it stopped. I didn't run a step for five weeks.

In fact, I could honestly say... I hardly missed running at all in those five weeks. Now, for those of you who know me, that sounds unimaginable. I am an addict after all. But, the first week was spent on vacation in Florida with my father and daughter, and after that, my next four weeks were filled with very consistent, endurance-type cross training. My sixth week introduced short runs after my cross training workouts.

Not a day went by that I wasn't doing a workout of some kind for over an hour. And then I picked up road biking, which held an interesting allure for me--allowing me to go for four hours or more. I'd never gone more than 20 miles on a bike. Ever. For the heck of it, I went 35 miles one day, and the next thing I knew, I'd signed up for a century. Between water workouts, biking (and a few other things, like kayaking), I collapsed into bed each night satisfactorily spent. I simply wasn't full of jittery energy wanting to burn it off with a good run.

This Sunday, I will attempt to complete my first biking century (starting from Longview Lake in Missouri). I don't really know what to expect, but I did manage a 74 mile ride without any issues two weeks ago. I'm oddly excited about it--happily nowhere near as stressed as my first marathon, but edgy and wondering, will I make it? Will it be too hot? What will it be like? Did they HAVE to put the bulk of the hills in the last third of the ride? Will peanut butter and jelly sandwiches taste good at mile 80?

And, of course, Chicago is still on the map in six weeks.

Like Ali In The Jungle

It's, not, how you start, it's how you finish,

One-and-two-and-three-and, I grunted out my core exercises and thought about my low point. It wasn't when I actually got the news I had another stress fracture; it was hours later, sitting in my hot parked car, in my hot garage, choking back hot tears hearing all the things I didn't want to hear from Vince about Chicago.. and any other high-mileage plans pretty much for the rest of my natural, running life. One stress fracture, you move on. Two, things have to change.

And it's, not, where you're from, it's where you're at,

It didn't seem to matter I'd done everything right. I've been there. Practically an expert on stress fractures, what to do, what not to do. It's almost embarrassing I did it again. But, I guess it doesn't matter. Here I am now. Tibial stress fracture. In the exact. Same. Spot.

Everybody gets knocked down,
Everybody gets knocked down,
How quick are you gonna' get up?
How quick are you gonna' get up?

Well, sometimes it doesn't seem like everybody. There's no normalizing boxing glove to make sure everyone gets a sucker punch every once in a while. But, that's not the point. What am I going to do about it? Recovery is no big deal, I know the drill. I want this to mean something. Ultimately, my stress fracture in 2008 ended up being such a positive experience, I wouldn't take it back. Even if I could.

Like Ali in the jungle,
Like Nelson in jail,
Like Simpson on the mountain,
With odds like that, they were bound to fail

I actually wanted to spend some time feeling sorry for myself. I waited until evening to have a good cry; I earned it. But it never came. I've had worse odds against me.

Like Hannah in the darkness,
Like Adam's in the dark,
Like Ludwig Van, how I loved that man, well the guy went deaf and didn't give a d---, no...

Twenty-three and, twenty-four and, twenty-five and, yes. I have something to prove. This can be ordinary, or I can try to do something highly improbable. Or anything in between. But, it excites me to think.. maybe I can do something extraordinary here. Maybe this.. could be an example of how to get through a serious injury, without laying down and giving up.

It's, not, where you are, It's where you're going,
Where are you going?

Sensible people would take the time off, come back in a few months and consider a 2011 marathon. Or maybe no more marathon training at all. And, no, I haven't run in fifteen days--don't think I'm doing anything stupid here. Chicago is a mere eleven weeks away. But, I have hit a "maintain fitness" routine that is as challenging--or more so--than my running was going. And I am determined--as if lit by fire--to give this my all: Come out across the finish line in Chicago with a PR, a New York qualifying time, and a healed tibia. My own hat trick through sheer determination.

And it's, not, about the things you've done, it's what you're doing, now,
What are you doing, now?

It's a very, very long shot. Mission impossible, really. But what if I can do it?

Post Holiday Blues

#$@)(-ing great. Marvellous.

I'd been quietly training for the past few weeks, very happy with my progress... avoiding the, "Wow, this feels almost too good to be true..." entry.

Until, it was.

It's been almost two years. I'm wiser this time, though.

I dug through the back of my closet, thinking the F-word more times than I care to count. It's in there somewhere, I know it.

"On the bright side," I pensively thought.. and cursed under my breath, "I live on a lake. It's July. I can do this." And, there it was. Waiting for me.

I kept the original box, I don't know why. I took it out, held it up, yeah.. this is what it's going to be today. And tomorrow. And probably... well, I'm not going there yet.

Now, where's the swimsuit? I'm not doing this in a bikini. Not for an hour. And there it was, under all my running clothes, in the very back, my one piece swim (read: exercise) suit.

I grabbed my kids' boom-box, a towel, a stopwatch, and headed down to the shore. Yes, in the answer to my next question, there was a functioning outlet on the dock. Bonus. This was going to suck for hours on end if I had to do it in silence. I don't listen to the radio, so I found some decent sounding station, tossed the ladder in the water, strapped the purple thing around my waist and started the stop watch.

I looked to my east. This might not last long, and soon, it started to rain. By 11:52 into this gig, it was raining so hard, I couldn't see across the cove. Sheets of rain poured down off the metal dock roof and hammered out the radio on high volume. Perfect. I closed my eyes and kept up the steady rhythm. I imagined myself a drowning cat. I hoped no one was watching.

Surprisingly, this was a great, all-over-body, workout. Note to self: Maybe I should be doing this in the summer even when I'm solid.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention it--my leg is.... hurting. I noticed it now and then Friday-ish, Saturday-ish, nothing problematic. Yesterday (Sunday), it was more evident. By 2.31 miles today, I decided it was best not to push through the pain on the inside of my calf anymore. Oddly, it doesn't hurt on impact (good sign), but does hurt as the foot pronates and is tender to the touch on the lower calf (bad sign).

I saw my doctor today, and we're hoping the insurance company will approve an MRI this week. It will be amazing if they do, since they don't see fit to approve my daughter's emergency appendectomy of a few months ago, but that is another story (I'm bitter). But, I want answers. I can push through the pain, no problem. But, of course, that is the crux of the problem--learning not to push when I really shouldn't. I'm busily trying to convince myself the conservative approach is best.

So, after 2.31 miles on the treadmill, it was 60 minutes of aqua jogging in the lake. We'll see, stay tuned. I'm not about to give up Chicago, just yet. Meanwhile, I'm hoping for a "Get out of jail free" card this time.

Night Flight 5K Race Report

Pre-Race Friday

The way things came together for me on race day were important in my dealing with the very slow time psychologically. This was, in fact, the slowest 5K I've run in a few years. There may be good reasons for that, but I'm not looking for excuses.

Lately, in fact, I've felt more like re-naming my blog "SheRunsSlow," or "Building a Slower Me," because I swear, that's what it feels like.

I was running my strongest ever in mid-March, when I had my unfortunate round with the aliens. I haven't been back there since. But, hey, it's been three months now, time to HTFU.

But, in the back of my mind, there was a nagging worry. My passage into running is more about a second chance on life after a devastating illness that should have by all means claimed me. Although I will manage this for the rest of my life with medication and routine testing by my doctor, there is always the chance things can take another really bad turn. It is a real fear that haunts me daily.

Ironically, Friday was also the day of my annual check-up (oh, how happy I am that this is only yearly now.. it used to be weekly--or more often in the beginning).

I thought about Lance Armstrong and what he had to overcome, as he chronicled in It's Not About the bike (which I read a couple of years ago). What if.... I am getting sick again? I wrote this in my review of the book back then:

And for me, he's captured why I run: "But now I knew exactly why I was riding: if I could continue to pedal a bike, somehow I wouldn't be so sick." "As long as I could move, I was healthy." "Move. If you can still move, you aren't sick."

I embrace this thought daily; the fear of being sick again, regressing, somehow letting my illness take hold of me and pull me back down means that I run almost every day. I panic when I don't run for this very reason. If I can still run, everything is OK. If I can run faster than last month, I'm getting better... not sicker.

Quite frankly, going into Friday night's race, I was getting worried. But after several hours of testing, I walked out a free woman. In the battery of tests, it was determined that I was as healthy as I'd ever been. I was not--in fact--getting sicker. Far from it. My results were excellent.

Warm-Up

Now onto the race. It was hot. On the way back from my testing, the car thermometer held steady at 98F for most of the drive. It had cooled only to 85F by race start, and I sweated standing still. My two mile warm up at 8:30 PM left me drenched already.

The Start

We lined up, and it was about 400-500 runners--all donning various glow bracelets, necklaces and the like. I had four myself. I picked a spot about six rows in from the front-runners, not really sure what I'd be running. One woman next to me looked me up and down and edged past me quite certain that she belonged further up front than I did. We traded twice, I finally let her have it. I found this particularly amusing, and promised myself to look up her time later. For the record, she ran a 41:01. Glad she got up close.

We took off right on time (9 PM, just after sunset), and began the out and back course. The first quarter mile was a fairly steep downhill, which worried me as I knew what that meant for the last quarter mile (even with my blonde hair, I could do that math). I let my stride relax and lengthen a bit and got a secure position. Then it was uphill a bit, capped with a hairpin turn and then a sharp turn to the right down Douglas Street (where most of the race took place).

Mile 1

I was counting backwards from 24:00 in my head, as that was my best guess as to what I was going to run. But at the 18:00 to go point, and nary a breeze, I was melting. And the second incline of the race began. Not to overstate the hill, but it was there and I was hot. It peaked just past the one mile point. We passed Dairy Queen. I sincerely thought about dropping out and sitting in the deep freezer.

Nearly to the half way, we had two turns through downtown Lees Summit, and they had quite a bit of music and people out cheering us on. That was definitely a highlight for me.

I was pretty sure at this point (having carefully examined the lead pack while they began their trip back down Douglas) that I was the third female overall. Not to say I was running fast, but I decided I really wanted to hang onto that and was willing to suffer a bit to do so. Third sounds worth mentioning. Fourth... well, not so much.

Mile 2

We turned, and just past the third hill (and mile 2) I could hear an adult male speaking to what seemed like a child behind me, "Ok, you ready? We're going to do it now..." And sure enough, a 30-ish male with a young girl in tow surged past me. Hmmm.. I might get kidded [Thanks, Joe, for the perfect term, "kidded!"]. Was I going to let her get third female? No way. I determined above all else, I would not let her get too far in front of me (though she was adorable) and I would outkick her at the end.

Soon, her coach let her go to hold her own and surged up to start talking to another young boy quite a bit far ahead. I slowly reeled her in, and as we began the fourth ascent to the left I surged past her and decided it was just my moment to hang on. I could her her plodding patter behind me.

The Finish

Another hairpin turn and up that last (fifth) hill. I was miserably hot and out of any energy, but I was not going to lose my position, so I didn't let the hill defeat me. At the crest, I sprinted to the finish line. One of the officials called out my bib number as third female, my family was waiting and told me I was third female, so I was pretty confident of this going into the awards ceremony as I had also come to the same conclusion. My final official time was 24:02, not so fast. But hey, I did it.

Final Results and Wrap-Up

As it turns out, I was also not third female overall. Another woman ran a 22:30 for third place, although I never saw her. I saw 1 (19:33 time) and 2 (20:30). Not sure what happened there we all missed her, but oh well. She also didn't show at the awards ceremony (shame on her ;) ).

I did love how I had to push through, the feeling of the race, the excitement building... and the possibility I might do better than I actually did. I resolved to do this more often, as I think good things can be gained from it. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and actually feel quite sharpened as a result. I have no regrets, despite the slow time.

We are runners. A runner who doesn't race is like a musician who doesn't perform. I've become more resolved for my 2011 goals as a result of this, and I will be running a lot of races--good or bad--I'm going to have a blast!

Night Flight Beckons

I'm doing it. I'm running in a local 5K this Friday Night... partly for fun, partly to get in a good threshold workout situated in the middle of some warm up and cool down miles. I'm pretty sure I'll run 3 miles a lot harder in a 5K race than I would during a workout. And, that's really the point for me right now.

So, in the midst of marathon training, with no speedwork whatsoever, I'm just.. going .. to do it. And I'm going to live with whatever time I run and realize--flat out--I'm not in 5K shape.

I'm hopeful the moon and stars will be out, the luminaries enchanting.. and good fun is had by all. Stay tuned ...

Expectations -or- Why Don't I Run More Races?

It's a funny thing.. there was a time when I signed up for and ran races just for the thrill of it. I didn't care how I did, it didn't mean anything to me. I cherished the experience of a newbie runner, trotting along side 600 or 6,000 other runners somewhere in the middle.. just soaking in the experience, and treasuring the fact that I felt "normal." If someone handed out a flyer at a race for another one next weekend... I'd seriously consider going. "Why not? This running thing is a blast!

Now, races must be carefully planned out. Goals set. Training executed. Race plans carefully crafted. Strategies read and re-read. Past winners' times reviewed. A race is now an "Event!"

Now, sadly I see these signs for local 5Ks or 4 milers, or whatever popping up all over the place. Midnight races, firecracker races, you name it. My kids see the signs, too. "Why don't you run in this race?" And I realize, that if I haven't trained for the event, then, I can't live up to some "personal expectations." So, the race comes and goes. And I don't run in it. And I suddenly think maybe I'm missing out on something. When exactly did this happen?

Wouldn't it be fun if you could register as running a "training run" or a "pacer" or some other designee other than "competitive?" I don't know why it bothers me, but I always think, well, if I just run xyz race in the middle of training for something else, then, it will just be a run. And then I'd be worried when people looked up my time they'd say, "Oh, wow, she was two minutes off her 5K time from last year." Even though they probably wouldn't and this is all in my head...

Somehow, I feel like doing a race "for fun" is just largely out of the question. I'm imprisoned by the fact that every race must have a purpose; a goal. But I do realize worrying about my expectations--or everyone else's (which probably don't even exist)--is really superfluous. I just need to let go of my competitiveness sometimes.

Do any of you who have raced for awhile get hung up on just running in some local races for fun?

20 Things To Make Your Running Better Right Now!

There are times as runner we may reach a plateau or place of indifference in our running--or at least some of our fresh motivation might wane. I've struggled with that myself off and on over the past training season, I thought about ideas to share to help you refresh, renew.. and run better.. right now!

1. Run with someone a little slower. Make a personal connection with someone who was where you once were. You just might make a difference in your life in sharing some of your successes and how you got there. Besides, running is the coolest hobby on the planet, right? Share it. You just might learn something too.

2. Take Vitamin D. Lately it seems every other health article I read debunks taking vitamin supplements. But yet every one of them seem to conclude that if there is one vitamin worth taking (and I wrote about it a few months ago), it's Vitamin D.

3. Run with someone a little faster. Rather obvious, but don't discount a little pushing of yourself with a slightly faster runner once in a while. I owe several of my running pals for dragging me a bit faster than I wanted to go. Just enough that I could. And I became a better, stronger runner as a result.

4. Record your runs. If you don't write down a little bit about each run, it's hard to know your progress and make decisions about your training. Not every run will be great, and not every run will feel terrible. Write down anything significant: where you ran, the terrain, who you ran with, any important diet changes, time of day, energy level, weather. If you have a lousy run or streak of lousy runs, go back 21 days and read what you've been doing. If you've been pushing too hard, it may be why you are out of energy. If you had a sore throat last week, your body might be fighting something. Most of your "why me" running questions can be answered in your 21-day look-back.

5. Encourage an injured runner. Very few of us have risen to our current running status without a few hard bumps along the way. Injuries, sickness, some preventable, some not, are all part of growing up as a runner. If you know a faithful runner who is injured, they could probably use a boost. Offer to go for a bike ride or coffee or lunch. There's really nothing worse than not being able to run if you are a runner. (See #20.)

6. Fuel your runs. Eat a healthy breakfast with some carbs and some protein. I've been running a few years, and I still sometimes slip out for a run without eating. I just forget to eat, and then at the last minute I'm almost out of time, and so I head out anyway. More often than not, I end up bonking and having a crappy run. Have something quick on hand, but a bagel with peanut butter, or instant oatmeal with some fruit are good, quick choices. If you're struggling with a few extra pounds, pick up Eat This and Not That for some simple swap outs to help you eat better on the run.

7. Read a good book about running. Find a highly motivating book about running. My all time favorite is Once A Runner by John L. Parker. If you've read it recently, give Bart Yasso's My Life On The Run, Christopher McDougall's Born to Run, or Dean Karnazes' 50/50: Secrets I learned Running 50 Marathons in 50 Days a try. Stimulating your mind about inspiring running stories can give you positive reflections while you run.

8. Race a new distance. My first "race" was a 5K, where I became absolutely hooked on running. But, to be fair, my first several 5Ks were taken in with the amazement I could actually run 3.1 miles without stopping and were all about completing the event and surviving the finish line--not dead last. Eventually, I worked my way up to the marathon, where I spend most of my training focus now. Last year, I took on the 5K with some aggressive (for me) goals to actually race this distance as hard as I could and train for it specifically. It broke up my training, made running fiercely interesting again (the training is so different) and ultimately made me a better marathoner.

9. Run at a different time. Always an early morning runner? Give a nice run at sunset a try. Watching the sun slip behind the trees and possibly even the moon rise and feel the heat of the day melt away can be a beautiful experience. Always running when you get home from work? Set out at dawn and watch the sun rise.

10. Skip the Garmin. As disciplined runners, we like to record and measure every step. How fast did I run that loop this time? But sometimes, it's better to just let go. The Garmin (or other training watch / footpod) can be a ruler with which you end up beating yourself. For your easy and recovery days, just go out there and run a familiar route and distance, but don't bring the Garmin. Don't even try to fool yourself that you'll only show elapsed distance, because later you will go and judge yourself on the pace. Remember what got you into running the first time. Enjoy the freedom a couple of times per week.

11. Lose the headphones. Amazing I'd come out with this one, as I am an avid iPod user for most of my training runs. I used to avoid races that didn't allow them. But now, you'd never catch me racing with an iPod, it disrupts my concentration and dilutes the racing and social experience. But every once in a while, go hit a trail in the early morning, or some other interesting route and just listen to the beauty of nature. Hear yourself breathe; your footfalls hit the ground; the birds singing; the breeze whispering. It can not only enrich your run, but enrich your life.

12. Striders. Not to be missed, striders are a great way to introduce some fast running into your training program. As noted in this article from Running Times, "By doing striders, you’ll tend to improve your running technique and posture at all speeds and may improve your running economy." Striders are 20 seconds or so of relaxed running at about 90% speed. Tack them onto the end of an easy run a couple of times per week.

13. Find a new trail. Trails abound in the U.S., and chances are, there's one within driving distance of you. During a recent visit to a Nature Conservatory near my home, I picked up a hiking trails book in the gift shop. I instantly discovered four brand new trails that I never knew existed within a 30 minute drive. I now frequent one of the loops. If you've already scouted out every trail nearby, expand your net. Put together a couple of your best running buds, and go for a longer drive some weekend or Holiday.

14. Run your easy days easy. This is a less obvious fact that I struggled with when I first became serious about running. This Running Tips site said it better than I could: "make your hard days as hard as possible and your easy days as easy as possible." The idea is that if your easy days are taking away from your hard days, you will merely run mediocre every day and not do the work necessary to become faster. It is the hard workouts that make you a faster runner, not the easy ones.

15. Sponsor a charity runner. Surely, one of your running buddies, co-workers, family members or friends will be running a race on behalf of a charity. This is a great opportunity to encourage another runner, and make you feel good about running in the process. Don't just write a check, be interactive. Ask about their training progress. Find out how they did when they finished. Share in their joy when you congratulate them for sticking to a goal, finishing it, and benefiting others in the process.

16. Run More. While this may not apply to everyone, if you are running more than forty percent of your weekly mileage in your long run, or if you are running less than forty miles per week, you could well benefit from running more miles. I am barraged on a daily basis with "run less, run faster" dogma, but as a general rule, if you want to be better at something, you do more of it (to a point of course). Running more miles can increase your fitness and efficiency and improve your form. Pete Pfitzinger covers this topic well, along with some tempered advice on how to safely increase your mileage. Greg McMillan writes about how increasing mileage strategically can help you by Fixing the [Late Marathon] Fade.

17. Volunteer at a local race. Face it--races wouldn't happen if it weren't for volunteers. What better way to stay motivated and get excited about running than handing water, sports drink, etc. out to hundreds if not thousands of runners in a local race? Fast or slow, it's inspiring to watch and help others. And bring your child with you--get them excited about running too.

18. Train Core. OK, I admit it. I'm a runner and I hate strength training. It's just a chore to me, and often find it hard to get motivated to do anything besides run. However, one area I never neglect is my core. I even have a secret sign [maybe some day I'll confess to what it says] printed above my ab bench to remind me how important core is. "The stronger your core, the more solid you are as you hit the ground," explains Jack Daniels, Ph.D., former exercise physiologist for the Nike Farm Team and now with Run SMART (where I train under Vince Sherry). "That reduces your need for unnecessary stabilization, and allows you to be a more economical runner." Check out the rest of this Runner's World article about core strengthening for runners.

19. Listen to your body. Last weekend, I had seven miles on my schedule but within two I found myself distracted, feeling lousy, stressed about finishing in time for my next appointment and generally having a really crappy run. I decided to end the run and go for seven the next day. I was rewarded the following day with one of the best runs I've had in a while--I felt great and celebrated the choice I'd made to listen. Know your body as a runner; trust it. Know the difference between when to push hard--and when to back off. Don't insist on finishing a terrible run just because you are a robot and it's on your schedule.

20. Give thanks that you can run. I saved this one for last because it's all too often we get so hung up on our goals, that we simply forget what a blessing it is to be able to get out there and run. Many of us run because we overcame something else. There's quite possibly a good reason you are a runner, because if you weren't, you'd be something else. Something less. For me, running gave me a new, healthy life I never expected. There was a time when I couldn't read a bed time story to my kids from a chair without being out of breath. And in the past twelve months, I qualified for and completed the Boston Marathon. So, if your running isn't perfect, and you feel like you are in a rut, wondering why you are doing this day after day--stop for a minute. Rejoice that you can run.