To CIM or not is the question of the week.
A few years ago I had a goal set for a 4:30 marathon. I trained hard and I was on target to meet my goal. On the morning of the marathon I felt strong and was running well. If I could keep up the pace I was running I would cross the finish line approximately 10 minutes ahead of my goal time. But it was not meant to be. I sustained an injury to my right knee somewhere along the way. By mile 23 I was in severe pain and unable to run. I was only able to sort of walk/limp. I missed 4:30 by 17 minutes crossing the finish line in 4 hours 47 minutes. I was letdown. 4:47 is my personal best to this day but I know it’s not the best I can do.
I was barely able to make my way from the finish corral to my waiting family and friends. The pain was unbearable. After hobbling for a couple of blocks towards our car I gave up. I just could not go any further. Hubs went to the parking garage to retrieve the car while I waited in the cold December air with Debra, her daughter, and my boys.
I spent the rest of the day in bed taking massive doses of Ibuprofen and icing my knee. I called the advice nurse. She told me to just rest, after all I had just run 26.2 miles and I should expect to be sore. This was not my first go at the rodeo that is marathoning and knew that this was not the usual kind of soreness but did not push the issue. I slept on and off all afternoon and through the night. I had to have Hubs help me do everything including walking me to the bathroom which really involved him carrying me.
First thing Monday morning I called my doctor. She told me to come in right away. Hubs piled me into the car and took me in. The doctor gently moved my knee this way and that. She decided it must be a stress fracture and I was off to the X-ray Department. 30 minutes later we sat looking at the bright white bones of my lower right leg. A fracture could not be found but Doc was sure we were missing it so she scheduled me for an MRI and a consultation with a Sports Medicine doctor. I was fitted with a pair of crutches, given the paperwork to take 4 weeks off of work and sent home.
Over the next few days I tried to get in the Christmas spirit. I tottered around the house on the crutches while trying to decorate. I was bored and anxious. The MRI and the sports med appointment were a week away. Hubs took a couple days off of work and took me to the mall to knock out some Christmas shopping. I just wanted to be fixed and for the pain to go away.
Hubs took another day off of work and took me to see Sports Doc. I sat on the paper lined table as she moved the knee this way and that. She poked and prodded. She assessed I had weak quad muscles. Again we looked at the x-ray films, still searching for a hidden fracture. A little more poking and prodding and Sport Doc diagnosed a torn meniscus and “the worst case of bursitis” that she had ever seen, worse than 70 or 80 year old patients. Wow! Way to go me! She cancelled the MRI appointment and laid treatment out for me.
Treatment would be long and slow starting with a corticosteroid shot to the inflamed bursa. Not as bad as it sounds and it did bring some relief. Sport Doc referred me to Sport Therapist to rehab and strengthen the area. She prohibited me from excessive walking and absolutely no running. The tear in the meniscus was small and did not need surgery; the bursitis was the primary problem.
Rehab was a test in patience. I was forced to give up the one thing that is at once my addiction and my salvation. I hated the rehab exercises. They were monotonous and boring. I skipped workouts and cheated on the walking and running. I set myself back. I hated the look on Sport Doc’s face when I admitted I ran a couple miles just to see how it felt. The look of disapproval made me want to hide under a rock. I admitted to her that my goal was to run CIM again that year. Sport Doc told me in no uncertain terms that if I ran a full marathon 12 months after this colossal injury I would wind up back in her office and possibly be facing surgical repair of said knee.
I heeded her advice and let the notion go until 2010. All was going as planned and then the tumor appeared on Easter Sunday on the top of my right foot. It was not painful. It was just a lump staring up at me mockingly. The following day I was back in my primary physician’s office. She diagnosed a ganglion cyst and referred me to podiatry. A week later Pod Doc tells me that it must be surgically removed and recovery time would be 2 – 3 weeks. I underwent surgery to find that the cyst was actually a solid mass and had grown into the tendon in that area of my foot. Pod Doc had to cut out and remove a section of tendon. Not the news I wanted to hear. Recovery time was now projected to be 4 – 6 months. CIM had to come off the calendar for a second year. I followed his orders and 8 weeks after surgery I was given the go-ahead to slowly start running again. CIM was 4 months away. I put the race back on the calendar and began training.
October rolled around and I ran Urban Cow. My foot ached throughout the entire race, something was not right. I booked an appointment with Pod Doc. There was a painful lump that I had attributed to scar tissue. Pod Doc assessed the lump and the mobility of the foot and determined the tumor had grown back. A second surgery was scheduled. CIM was once again of the calendar. I was defeated and unhappy. The second surgery revealed a tumor and a tear in the tendon. My running career was on hold yet again.
In late January 2011 Pod Doc cleared me to run once again. I did not run. I was fearful. I could not face another surgery. Finally in late February I laced my shoes up and went for a run.
I have spent the last 8 months diligently training and have successfully completed my first full marathon in nearly 3 years however I am apprehensive about registering for CIM. I am not overly superstitious nevertheless I am shy about committing. Something about being so focused on this one event seems to be a bad omen. I am mostly pain free and mostly injury free save for the toenail situation. Would running CIM lead to yet another injury? Should I just cut my losses and focus on Big Sur 2012?
I just don’t know.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The Toe Goes
I don’t have much to report on the running front these days. I’d love to be able to write that I’ve been sticking to my schedule and that I’ve signed up for CIM but sadly I have not done either. CIM is on my mind and I must decide this week but more about that later.
Last week was a rest week after the “Big Gravel Road to Hell Marathon”. I had planned to try a short run on Wednesday to see how tired my legs were recovering, however last Monday wiped any hope of that.
I was tidying up our backyard after work. Now that school is in session and the nights have cooled our backyard is sadly being ignored. I decided it was time to clean out the broken pool toys and move the pool supplies to the shed. Easy peasy lemon squeezy right? Nope, not the case. You see I was NOT wearing the proper foot attire. I was wearing flip flops, I was not mowing lawns or using power equipment so no need for covered feet. At least that was my thinking. I was wrong.
One of the items I keep at the pool equipment during the summer is 50 pound bags of salt. It’s easier than lugging them out of the shed whenever I need to add salt to the pool. No problem leaving out in the summer but in the fall the nights become damp and the salt turns into a brick. So as I stood in my flip flop clad feet I grabbed the unopened bag of salt and slid it towards me so I could get underneath it and lift with my legs. This was a mistake of epic proportions! Due to my super-human strength the bag slid with too much ease and the bag raked over the top of my right foot (yes, gimpy two surgery foot) lifting the toenail right off of its bed.
Oh Em Gee!
Thick, dark blood flowed from the wound as I stood there trying to comprehend what I had just done. I reached down pushed the nail back into place and gingerly made my way into the kitchen. I wrapped the mess in a paper towel and lay down on the cool tile floor. The notion was inconceivable. How on earth had I just done that? Will my clumsiness never cease?
I asked my youngest son to retrieve Hubs from the garage, I was not going to be able to handle this one by myself. I was eerily calm, I had no words. It was surreal. The shock was numbing any pain the injury was causing. All of a sudden tears began to swell in my eyes. Soon I came to the realization that there were only 13 days until my favorite race of the year, Urban Cow. The magnitude of the injury was slowly sinking in. I thought to myself, “How will I be able to run with no toenail?”
Hubs helped me off the kitchen floor and down the hall so we could clean the offending digit. He ran cool water in our tub and I gently placed my feet in. I sat on the edge of the tub and watched the blood float and swirl suspended in the water. “It’s not that bad” I said to Hubs. “I’m sure it will be fine in a couple days, look the bleeding has already stopped” I said trying to convince both of us that this was not a game changing wound. He was not convinced and neither was I.
I removed my feet from the tub. Hubs carefully dried and bandaged the toe. I called my medical provider. Should I come in or not? The customer service rep said I should speak with a doctor and she would have one call me within the hour. Said doctor called as promised and told me to pull the nail off. No can do I told him. While the nail had lifted much like the hood of a car it was not completely detached. No way was I going to man up and pull that baby off. He said I had a couple other options, one option was to keep it clean and let the nail fall off on its own but that I risked infection by doing so. The other was to visit him the next day and he would remove the nail. I could not bear the thought of having the nail removed so I opted to leave it in place.
For the next several days I cleaned it like my life depended on it. Morning, noon and night. I kept it swaddled in sterile gauze and did not even look at a pair of closed toe shoes. On the 6th day I felt like the toe needed to have some pressure released so I screwed up my courage and grabbed some toenail clippers. Carefully I began to trim away the toenail, surprisingly it was not painful. I could feel the pressure releasing with each small snip. I was able to trim away about 1/3 of the nail before I came to a tender point. I stopped for the day. The next day I removed a little more. Again I reached a point where the tenderness told me to stop.
Yesterday I awoke and for the first time in 8 days no pain! It gave me hope that by October 2nd I would be able to run!
While dressing for work I carefully slipped on a closed toe swanky pair of heels. I slowly walked up and down my hallway. No pain! Hallelujah! After work I slid on socks and my running shoes. I wore them for the evening. Still no pain!
Today the toe feels nearly healed and again I am wearing closed toe shoes. I am so incredibly happy and positive that I will be able to run the race this weekend!
Last week was a rest week after the “Big Gravel Road to Hell Marathon”. I had planned to try a short run on Wednesday to see how tired my legs were recovering, however last Monday wiped any hope of that.
I was tidying up our backyard after work. Now that school is in session and the nights have cooled our backyard is sadly being ignored. I decided it was time to clean out the broken pool toys and move the pool supplies to the shed. Easy peasy lemon squeezy right? Nope, not the case. You see I was NOT wearing the proper foot attire. I was wearing flip flops, I was not mowing lawns or using power equipment so no need for covered feet. At least that was my thinking. I was wrong.
One of the items I keep at the pool equipment during the summer is 50 pound bags of salt. It’s easier than lugging them out of the shed whenever I need to add salt to the pool. No problem leaving out in the summer but in the fall the nights become damp and the salt turns into a brick. So as I stood in my flip flop clad feet I grabbed the unopened bag of salt and slid it towards me so I could get underneath it and lift with my legs. This was a mistake of epic proportions! Due to my super-human strength the bag slid with too much ease and the bag raked over the top of my right foot (yes, gimpy two surgery foot) lifting the toenail right off of its bed.
Oh Em Gee!
Thick, dark blood flowed from the wound as I stood there trying to comprehend what I had just done. I reached down pushed the nail back into place and gingerly made my way into the kitchen. I wrapped the mess in a paper towel and lay down on the cool tile floor. The notion was inconceivable. How on earth had I just done that? Will my clumsiness never cease?
I asked my youngest son to retrieve Hubs from the garage, I was not going to be able to handle this one by myself. I was eerily calm, I had no words. It was surreal. The shock was numbing any pain the injury was causing. All of a sudden tears began to swell in my eyes. Soon I came to the realization that there were only 13 days until my favorite race of the year, Urban Cow. The magnitude of the injury was slowly sinking in. I thought to myself, “How will I be able to run with no toenail?”
Hubs helped me off the kitchen floor and down the hall so we could clean the offending digit. He ran cool water in our tub and I gently placed my feet in. I sat on the edge of the tub and watched the blood float and swirl suspended in the water. “It’s not that bad” I said to Hubs. “I’m sure it will be fine in a couple days, look the bleeding has already stopped” I said trying to convince both of us that this was not a game changing wound. He was not convinced and neither was I.
I removed my feet from the tub. Hubs carefully dried and bandaged the toe. I called my medical provider. Should I come in or not? The customer service rep said I should speak with a doctor and she would have one call me within the hour. Said doctor called as promised and told me to pull the nail off. No can do I told him. While the nail had lifted much like the hood of a car it was not completely detached. No way was I going to man up and pull that baby off. He said I had a couple other options, one option was to keep it clean and let the nail fall off on its own but that I risked infection by doing so. The other was to visit him the next day and he would remove the nail. I could not bear the thought of having the nail removed so I opted to leave it in place.
For the next several days I cleaned it like my life depended on it. Morning, noon and night. I kept it swaddled in sterile gauze and did not even look at a pair of closed toe shoes. On the 6th day I felt like the toe needed to have some pressure released so I screwed up my courage and grabbed some toenail clippers. Carefully I began to trim away the toenail, surprisingly it was not painful. I could feel the pressure releasing with each small snip. I was able to trim away about 1/3 of the nail before I came to a tender point. I stopped for the day. The next day I removed a little more. Again I reached a point where the tenderness told me to stop.
Yesterday I awoke and for the first time in 8 days no pain! It gave me hope that by October 2nd I would be able to run!
While dressing for work I carefully slipped on a closed toe swanky pair of heels. I slowly walked up and down my hallway. No pain! Hallelujah! After work I slid on socks and my running shoes. I wore them for the evening. Still no pain!
Today the toe feels nearly healed and again I am wearing closed toe shoes. I am so incredibly happy and positive that I will be able to run the race this weekend!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Nor Cal Marathon 9-18-2011
This is the post I wrote Sunday night after returning home mere hours after the Nor Cal Marathon:
We finished.
It was hard.
I’m done running forever.
I sat and stared at those 3 lines for a very long time. Am I really done forever? Isn’t that one of my biggest fears that I will no longer be able to run? How many posts have I written about how crazy I get when I can’t run? Am I really ready to quit? My mouse hovered over the publish button for more than a minute. I decided not to post it, to sleep on it.
Those are big words to say and even bigger words to eat once you change your mind. Let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t post it. It was hard, harder than any other marathon I’ve run including the wind and rain at Surf City ’08 and the torn knee at mile 23 of CIM ’08. I know I’m not done forever but Sunday was a really tough day. I did not expect the marathon to be as challenging as it was and I was disappointed. Not disappointed about our time but disappointed that we had prepared so diligently and the course was not advertised as an off road marathon. We were more than prepared for a road race but trail racing is whole different beast all together. With that said the race was not all bad and we even had some laughs mixed in with the suffering.
We arrived and parked with about 20 minutes to spare. Heather wanted to hit the porta-potty city before the start. We walked through the nearly empty start area wondering where the heck everyone was and then we saw the masses standing in line for the little blue potty houses. We hopped in line and waited and waited some more. Finally we were at the front of the line and we could hear the announcer give the 2 minute warning. At this point I decided to skip using the facilities which turned out to be a mistake, more about that later. As the air horn blew signaling the start of the race H was in her little blue hut but since the race was chip timed it didn’t matter. As we crossed the start line it was clear of nearly every other runner and walker which was fine by me. I’m not a huge fan of the crowded start corral and the stutter step through the first quarter mile. Heather had a plan in place as to what pace she wanted run for different segments of the race. Her plan was excellent and would leave us with enough energy to finish the race feeling strong.
We ran a nice slow pace for the first two miles and then picked up the pace for approximately the next 7 miles. We wound around a pretty little park and enjoyed the coolness coming from the grass and trees. Around the 6 mile marker we left the paved road for the first section of loose gravel. The path ran parallel to the airport and the planes taking-off and landing were a nice distraction. At mile 9 the half marathon participants turned around. It was at this point that Heather and I realized exactly how small the marathon was. We ran up a small incline to another loose gravel road and found that we were the only 2 runners around. Up in the distance we could see another 2 or 3 runners. We trudged along staying at our target pace along the gravel levee road until the 14 mile marker. I was so relieved to find a porta-potty at this aid station. Since I had opted not to use the facilities at the start the urge to go was growing with each passing mile. I had stopped somewhere around 4 miles but grew impatient with the line and decided not to wait. I stopped again around mile 7 or 8 only to find that the door was zip tied shut. That was really cruel! So finally at 14 I found an unlocked, no wait porta-potty. This was a very happy moment for me! I told Heather to go on and I would catch up to her. With that business out of the way I took advantage of the nice smooth paved road to pick up my pace and meet back up with Heather. We ran along a small paved path into a park to the 16 mile marker that was the turn-around for the full marathon. It was getting hot and I was feeling spent after all the miles on the gravel and so was Heather. I decided since we were not running with our eyes on the clock that we should take the turn-around as an opportunity to take a photo.
As we made our way back up the paved trail out of the park I was beginning to dread returning to that levee road. At mile 17 we entered the gravel again. We stopped and thanked the volunteers and had a sip of Gatorade. After a mile or so on the gravel my quads and feet were screaming at me. They were indignant. How could I possibly ask them to put up with these less than favorable conditions for any longer? We spent a great deal of the next 8 miles walking. The day had turned out to be very warm. The sun was baking the earth and the rocks. The heat radiated upward like a never-ending wall. Areas of shade were very few and far between. At each aid station we refilled the water bottles we were carrying and poured water on our necks. We asked how long until we would be off the gravel. No one knew. It was treacherous and defeating. Heather had hit her wall and snapped back out of just in time for me to hit mine. I wanted to run. Heather wanted to run. We just couldn’t, it was too painful. Heather’s knees were angry and my feet were refusing to take anymore punishment. We would run in little bursts then walk. Over and over we repeated this pattern. It was grueling. Finally somewhere between miles 24 and 25 we returned to pavement. It was a joyous moment. We were still too hot and fatigued to run much but at least we were off that awful gravel.
I began to feel revitalized around mile 25, the end was so close! As we rounded the last corner and could see the finish line I felt a huge sense of accomplishment. All the months of hard work had paid off. The two surgeries and two recoveries were now in the distance. I had made a promise to BC to get Heather to the finish line in one piece and I did (more or less!). This was not my fastest marathon nor did I expect it to be. I just wanted to finish and I did!
We finished.
It was hard.
I’m done running forever.
I sat and stared at those 3 lines for a very long time. Am I really done forever? Isn’t that one of my biggest fears that I will no longer be able to run? How many posts have I written about how crazy I get when I can’t run? Am I really ready to quit? My mouse hovered over the publish button for more than a minute. I decided not to post it, to sleep on it.
Those are big words to say and even bigger words to eat once you change your mind. Let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t post it. It was hard, harder than any other marathon I’ve run including the wind and rain at Surf City ’08 and the torn knee at mile 23 of CIM ’08. I know I’m not done forever but Sunday was a really tough day. I did not expect the marathon to be as challenging as it was and I was disappointed. Not disappointed about our time but disappointed that we had prepared so diligently and the course was not advertised as an off road marathon. We were more than prepared for a road race but trail racing is whole different beast all together. With that said the race was not all bad and we even had some laughs mixed in with the suffering.
We arrived and parked with about 20 minutes to spare. Heather wanted to hit the porta-potty city before the start. We walked through the nearly empty start area wondering where the heck everyone was and then we saw the masses standing in line for the little blue potty houses. We hopped in line and waited and waited some more. Finally we were at the front of the line and we could hear the announcer give the 2 minute warning. At this point I decided to skip using the facilities which turned out to be a mistake, more about that later. As the air horn blew signaling the start of the race H was in her little blue hut but since the race was chip timed it didn’t matter. As we crossed the start line it was clear of nearly every other runner and walker which was fine by me. I’m not a huge fan of the crowded start corral and the stutter step through the first quarter mile. Heather had a plan in place as to what pace she wanted run for different segments of the race. Her plan was excellent and would leave us with enough energy to finish the race feeling strong.
We ran a nice slow pace for the first two miles and then picked up the pace for approximately the next 7 miles. We wound around a pretty little park and enjoyed the coolness coming from the grass and trees. Around the 6 mile marker we left the paved road for the first section of loose gravel. The path ran parallel to the airport and the planes taking-off and landing were a nice distraction. At mile 9 the half marathon participants turned around. It was at this point that Heather and I realized exactly how small the marathon was. We ran up a small incline to another loose gravel road and found that we were the only 2 runners around. Up in the distance we could see another 2 or 3 runners. We trudged along staying at our target pace along the gravel levee road until the 14 mile marker. I was so relieved to find a porta-potty at this aid station. Since I had opted not to use the facilities at the start the urge to go was growing with each passing mile. I had stopped somewhere around 4 miles but grew impatient with the line and decided not to wait. I stopped again around mile 7 or 8 only to find that the door was zip tied shut. That was really cruel! So finally at 14 I found an unlocked, no wait porta-potty. This was a very happy moment for me! I told Heather to go on and I would catch up to her. With that business out of the way I took advantage of the nice smooth paved road to pick up my pace and meet back up with Heather. We ran along a small paved path into a park to the 16 mile marker that was the turn-around for the full marathon. It was getting hot and I was feeling spent after all the miles on the gravel and so was Heather. I decided since we were not running with our eyes on the clock that we should take the turn-around as an opportunity to take a photo.
Here we are smiling and looking relaxed, not looking as tired and haggard as we felt.
As we made our way back up the paved trail out of the park I was beginning to dread returning to that levee road. At mile 17 we entered the gravel again. We stopped and thanked the volunteers and had a sip of Gatorade. After a mile or so on the gravel my quads and feet were screaming at me. They were indignant. How could I possibly ask them to put up with these less than favorable conditions for any longer? We spent a great deal of the next 8 miles walking. The day had turned out to be very warm. The sun was baking the earth and the rocks. The heat radiated upward like a never-ending wall. Areas of shade were very few and far between. At each aid station we refilled the water bottles we were carrying and poured water on our necks. We asked how long until we would be off the gravel. No one knew. It was treacherous and defeating. Heather had hit her wall and snapped back out of just in time for me to hit mine. I wanted to run. Heather wanted to run. We just couldn’t, it was too painful. Heather’s knees were angry and my feet were refusing to take anymore punishment. We would run in little bursts then walk. Over and over we repeated this pattern. It was grueling. Finally somewhere between miles 24 and 25 we returned to pavement. It was a joyous moment. We were still too hot and fatigued to run much but at least we were off that awful gravel.
I began to feel revitalized around mile 25, the end was so close! As we rounded the last corner and could see the finish line I felt a huge sense of accomplishment. All the months of hard work had paid off. The two surgeries and two recoveries were now in the distance. I had made a promise to BC to get Heather to the finish line in one piece and I did (more or less!). This was not my fastest marathon nor did I expect it to be. I just wanted to finish and I did!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Speedies Wednesday, A Recap
Last night was my first Speedies Wednesday evening workout. Yeah it pretty much sucked (except for the company of DG). I have not run at night in a looooong time, perhaps since the disastrous Moo-Nlight ½ marathon that was not actually a ½ marathon. Anyhoo, the thought of trying to cram speed work into the wee hours of the morning is obnoxious plus I miss my running buddies so I planned an evening track workout.
DG and I met at 6:00 p.m. at the local high school track. There were a couple other runners on the track and the Varsity football team was doing there thang out on the field. DG ran 800’s and I wimped and ran 200’s. Well wimped might be a little harsh since I do have a marathon this Sunday. It was hot, 85° (Fahrenheit for my Australian and Canadian friends) and I had a day’s worth of meals in my belly. Two factors I am unaccustomed to. While it was not the worst workout ever it surely was not the best. We powered through 3 miles and decided that was enough punishment for one day.
We gathered our belongings from the sideline and then the fun began. We found that the wonderful football coaching staff had locked us IN the stadium. Really? How about a little shout out dudes? You know something like “we’re locking up for the night kids so you might want pack it in”. To add insult to injury to us non-football playing types they watched us as we looked for an open gate. Of the four men standing shooting the breeze outside the locked gate not one of them offered to unlock the gate and let us out. Classy fellas, thanks so much! Luckily DG and I found an open gate at the far end of the stadium and were not forced to scale the chain link fence in front of the football team, their parents and coaching staff like the other group of runners had elected to do. My lack of height and gracefulness tells me that climbing over fences in front of semi-large groups is not a good idea. Trust me I know from experience my capabilities would not have allowed such actions to go unnoticed!
Today I am feeling healthy and relaxed (yes #1 girlfriend does have strep throat). I plan to run an easy 3 miles tomorrow morning just to stretch out a bit. I've begun making my lists of what I need to pack and searching for places to eat. Everything is feeling just right, I can’t wait for the weekend to begin!
DG and I met at 6:00 p.m. at the local high school track. There were a couple other runners on the track and the Varsity football team was doing there thang out on the field. DG ran 800’s and I wimped and ran 200’s. Well wimped might be a little harsh since I do have a marathon this Sunday. It was hot, 85° (Fahrenheit for my Australian and Canadian friends) and I had a day’s worth of meals in my belly. Two factors I am unaccustomed to. While it was not the worst workout ever it surely was not the best. We powered through 3 miles and decided that was enough punishment for one day.
We gathered our belongings from the sideline and then the fun began. We found that the wonderful football coaching staff had locked us IN the stadium. Really? How about a little shout out dudes? You know something like “we’re locking up for the night kids so you might want pack it in”. To add insult to injury to us non-football playing types they watched us as we looked for an open gate. Of the four men standing shooting the breeze outside the locked gate not one of them offered to unlock the gate and let us out. Classy fellas, thanks so much! Luckily DG and I found an open gate at the far end of the stadium and were not forced to scale the chain link fence in front of the football team, their parents and coaching staff like the other group of runners had elected to do. My lack of height and gracefulness tells me that climbing over fences in front of semi-large groups is not a good idea. Trust me I know from experience my capabilities would not have allowed such actions to go unnoticed!
Today I am feeling healthy and relaxed (yes #1 girlfriend does have strep throat). I plan to run an easy 3 miles tomorrow morning just to stretch out a bit. I've begun making my lists of what I need to pack and searching for places to eat. Everything is feeling just right, I can’t wait for the weekend to begin!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Irrational Fears?
5 days until the big day and I’m all kinds of nervous and excited at the same time. In the last few days day I have found thinking about things I’m afraid of happening before this mammoth event.
#1. I will forget to pack my running shoes, shorts, bra and/or top. Any one of these items left behind would be disastrous on many levels. You can’t just slap on any old pair of sneakers and expect your feet to reward you with a blister free marathon. No my friend your feet want the shoes they know and love. Try a new pair on marathon day and you are likely to end up like this:
Same goes with the outfit. You need to test drive all garment choices pre-race. Failure to do so could result in chafing so badly you will be making deals with the devil himself to make the burning pain from the rivulets of sweat running over the raw, exposed skin go away.
#2. I will get sick. Son #1’s girlfriend texted me this morning to tell me she had to be tested for strep throat this morning. What the heeeell?? Let the Lysol-ing begin, stat! I told her I love her but stay away from me. In addition two of my students are sick ( I only have 9). In first period one of the two students came in all snotty and sniffley after being absent yesterday. I handed him the hand santizer and asked him not to breathe or touch anything in the room until the bell rang at the end of class. Unreasonable you say? Well how about you try running for 26.2 miles with a clothes pin clipping your nose shut and a small hammer pounding away at your brain and see how you feel, mmmmkay? Running with a head cold is no joke and I’ve worked too hard this year to get to this place thank you very much.
#3. Mother Nature will pull some crazy stunt and send Aunt Flow for an early visit. Sorry dudes I know you are cringing right now. But we’re all runners and body functions go with the territory, am I right? Anyway this isn’t the worst thing that can happen but it would be a game changer all the same.
#4. What will I eat? We will be a couple hours from home in a city I am not familiar with. Should I bring my meals with me? Will there be a trusted chain restaurant where I can find a decent pre-race meal? The last thing I want is some dinner that wreaks havoc on my delicate gastrointestinal system. One of the golden rules of racing is do NOT try anything new during race week. Ever. Period. I have a friend that broke this rule the day before her first marathon and she tried an energy shot at the race expo. Guess what happened. That’s right she spent the night in her hotel bathroom hugging the porcelain. She also spent 6 ½ hours on the marathon course in agony. Lesson learned!
Also on my mind: Am I prepared enough? What if H gets sick of hearing my incessant talking? What if I fall down, again? What if I can’t sleep? What if my snoring keeps H awake?
Sheesh! Neurotic much?!
#1. I will forget to pack my running shoes, shorts, bra and/or top. Any one of these items left behind would be disastrous on many levels. You can’t just slap on any old pair of sneakers and expect your feet to reward you with a blister free marathon. No my friend your feet want the shoes they know and love. Try a new pair on marathon day and you are likely to end up like this:
Same goes with the outfit. You need to test drive all garment choices pre-race. Failure to do so could result in chafing so badly you will be making deals with the devil himself to make the burning pain from the rivulets of sweat running over the raw, exposed skin go away.
#2. I will get sick. Son #1’s girlfriend texted me this morning to tell me she had to be tested for strep throat this morning. What the heeeell?? Let the Lysol-ing begin, stat! I told her I love her but stay away from me. In addition two of my students are sick ( I only have 9). In first period one of the two students came in all snotty and sniffley after being absent yesterday. I handed him the hand santizer and asked him not to breathe or touch anything in the room until the bell rang at the end of class. Unreasonable you say? Well how about you try running for 26.2 miles with a clothes pin clipping your nose shut and a small hammer pounding away at your brain and see how you feel, mmmmkay? Running with a head cold is no joke and I’ve worked too hard this year to get to this place thank you very much.
#3. Mother Nature will pull some crazy stunt and send Aunt Flow for an early visit. Sorry dudes I know you are cringing right now. But we’re all runners and body functions go with the territory, am I right? Anyway this isn’t the worst thing that can happen but it would be a game changer all the same.
#4. What will I eat? We will be a couple hours from home in a city I am not familiar with. Should I bring my meals with me? Will there be a trusted chain restaurant where I can find a decent pre-race meal? The last thing I want is some dinner that wreaks havoc on my delicate gastrointestinal system. One of the golden rules of racing is do NOT try anything new during race week. Ever. Period. I have a friend that broke this rule the day before her first marathon and she tried an energy shot at the race expo. Guess what happened. That’s right she spent the night in her hotel bathroom hugging the porcelain. She also spent 6 ½ hours on the marathon course in agony. Lesson learned!
Also on my mind: Am I prepared enough? What if H gets sick of hearing my incessant talking? What if I fall down, again? What if I can’t sleep? What if my snoring keeps H awake?
Sheesh! Neurotic much?!
Monday, September 12, 2011
Marathon Countdown
Marathon week has arrived without so much as a single post by me about the long and sometimes arduous miles. Geez I feel like such a slacker! I started working full-time in for the first time in 18 years in mid-August and it’s been an adjustment for me. Some days it takes all I have just to get through the day so blogging has been pushed to the back burner. However, I did update my Dailymile profile after each run so if you want to see what I’ve been up to you can check it out here http://www.dailymile.com/people/KellyV3#ref=tophd
My right (gimpy) foot has held up amazingly well! But I made the mistake of wearing a single pair running shoes all summer. What a rookie move! I put nearly 500 miles on those bad boys and that has resulted in some ankle pain in my left foot. Nothing that some Motrin, ice and stretching can’t fix but annoying none the less.
Saturday was my final “long” run before the big day. My marathon partner, H, spent the weekend in the majestic Lake Tahoe area and a few other runners in our group wanted to run hills so DG and I decided to take an easy 11 mile lap around Lake Natoma. It was a b-e-a-u-tiful morning. The temperature was perfect and the sunrise absolutely gorgeous.
DG and I ran a leisurely first 5 miles until we got to “the clean bathrooms”. We stopped to use the facilities, refuel, and stretch. After about 8 or 9 minutes we decided it was time to get down to business. We set off towards a set of switch backs that I affectionately call “Big Bertha”. Mind you this is a small section of the trail leads up to the Auburn-Folsom Bridge but I was dreading the hill all the same. She routinely beats me down and forces my tired legs to walk up her steep incline. But not this time, I ran every single step! Of course I was toast by the time I reached the top and had to walk a portion of the bridge. But hey a victory is victory!
We crossed the bridge and considered leaving a message for BC out of twigs and leaves on his car parked in the lot at Karen’s Bakery. We giggled like second graders at the thought but decided that we should get serious and run so we did not make the detour. We dropped back down to the bike trail to do some work and push ourselves harder. We ran at a 9:30-10:00 min/mile pace even on the rolling hill sections. We slowed and sometimes even walked after a particularly tough stretch. We stopped briefly at the sight of a bicycle crash that H and I directed traffic around just a couple of weeks ago. The stain on the path is a grim reminder of how quickly a nice day on the trail can turn into tragedy.
Just as the temperature started to rise we finished up our 11.25 miles. It was a great run and I felt like I could continue on if I had needed or wanted to. That feeling has eluded me for much of the last month and I was beginning to doubt my love of running. But I it turns out that I do still love it and I’m excited to run my 4th marathon this coming Sunday!
My right (gimpy) foot has held up amazingly well! But I made the mistake of wearing a single pair running shoes all summer. What a rookie move! I put nearly 500 miles on those bad boys and that has resulted in some ankle pain in my left foot. Nothing that some Motrin, ice and stretching can’t fix but annoying none the less.
Saturday was my final “long” run before the big day. My marathon partner, H, spent the weekend in the majestic Lake Tahoe area and a few other runners in our group wanted to run hills so DG and I decided to take an easy 11 mile lap around Lake Natoma. It was a b-e-a-u-tiful morning. The temperature was perfect and the sunrise absolutely gorgeous.
DG and I ran a leisurely first 5 miles until we got to “the clean bathrooms”. We stopped to use the facilities, refuel, and stretch. After about 8 or 9 minutes we decided it was time to get down to business. We set off towards a set of switch backs that I affectionately call “Big Bertha”. Mind you this is a small section of the trail leads up to the Auburn-Folsom Bridge but I was dreading the hill all the same. She routinely beats me down and forces my tired legs to walk up her steep incline. But not this time, I ran every single step! Of course I was toast by the time I reached the top and had to walk a portion of the bridge. But hey a victory is victory!
We crossed the bridge and considered leaving a message for BC out of twigs and leaves on his car parked in the lot at Karen’s Bakery. We giggled like second graders at the thought but decided that we should get serious and run so we did not make the detour. We dropped back down to the bike trail to do some work and push ourselves harder. We ran at a 9:30-10:00 min/mile pace even on the rolling hill sections. We slowed and sometimes even walked after a particularly tough stretch. We stopped briefly at the sight of a bicycle crash that H and I directed traffic around just a couple of weeks ago. The stain on the path is a grim reminder of how quickly a nice day on the trail can turn into tragedy.
Just as the temperature started to rise we finished up our 11.25 miles. It was a great run and I felt like I could continue on if I had needed or wanted to. That feeling has eluded me for much of the last month and I was beginning to doubt my love of running. But I it turns out that I do still love it and I’m excited to run my 4th marathon this coming Sunday!
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