injury

A Much Needed Breath

/ Sloan / Leave a comment

The morning came and I ran. The streets of Grand Rapids were damp from an early morning rain, the river black, only because it was not yet past sunrise, and fluid because the rapids have slowly been let loose. 5:26am the Tuesday of a long week was ahead of me and I ran to clear my head. I’ve yet to run any miles consistently since my injury, I’ve yet to feel good since my injury, but the feeling of familiar streets under my feet was comforting. A bit of rain fell to cool me.

 I ran passed the park, passed my old gym, along the dumpy streets I used to call my own in G-Rap. On my way back I passed the 6th Street Bridge, a bridge designed for many modes of transportation: train tracks embedded, a road for cars, a smooth sidewalk for bikes, and the whole thing is boardwalk. Two by fours pieced together with nails for my pleasure. If you know me at all, and you know my running at all, you know that I love to run across boardwalks. I dream of designing a 5k race all on boardwalk so that other runners could maybe experience the feeling of raw, grainy wood underfoot and appreciate the hallow sound it makes are you step step step across. Swiftly, quickly, fluidly over the bridge to cross a river beneath is blissful. That Tuesday morning I ran across the bridge in the dark, unsatisfied I ran back across to return to Monroe Avenue, there and back gave me my fill of boardwalks for the early morning.

My run was interrupted by needing to walk, stretch and hope that my bones hold and remain strong without re-injuring. Frustrating, but it was good to be outside and moving. I made my way back to the hotel and was out of the shower before my roommate even woke. It was a good start to long week that was then clouded by copious amounts of information, schmoozing and boozing, dancing and working.

Throughout the week I made it back to the bridge multiple times. Walks with co workers while on breaks were the breaths of fresh air needed to clear my head and bring myself back to the ‘now’. The two by fours underfoot were a destination and a turnaround point, always pausing to look over the railing at the never still water of the Grand River. Always on the move. Always pushing forward to find what’s next.

The Waiting Game

/ Sloan / 3 Comments

I’ve entered the waiting game. It’s a game that tests my patience, my strength, my creativity and sees how well I can follow directions. So far the game is tied: 1-1.

The Doctor took and X-ray and saw nothing, she then told me not to run, (duh, I can barely walk) not to do squats, lunges or thigh machines. I shouldn’t do the elliptical if it hurts, but the bike is okay. In the mean time I got an MRI (holy loud and claustrophobia!) and am trying to keep myself busy at the gym with weights and ab workouts—and now I wait, I wait 48 hours (now we’re at about 34 hours) until the doctor is supposed to call me and tell me if she sees a stress fracture or not. Stress. Fracture. Two of the most dreaded words a runner can hear.

Before I left her office Monday she told me I needed more calcium, (I grew up with a phobia of milk) so, lady runners, please start taking a supplement NOW The chocolate chew things are a nice sweet ending to a meal that gives you your daily calcium!

Now I’m left in limbo. Floating in this middle area where I’m afraid that if I push it I will permanently damage something or some bone that is important, and in this area where I lose my level of productivity if I’m not getting in some sort of workout daily. I’m scrambling something to satisfy what both my mind and body needs.

So what am I doing?  How am I taking control? I’m looking back, reevaluating my fitness routine and adding in weights. I used to lift often and then got obsessed with cardio and running. I’m finding if I pump the iron before I attempt some sort of cardio I get a great 30-45 minutes weight lifting working out in! Lift first, attempt cardio second, (I say attempt because if it hurts I DON’T DO IT!)

I am going to win this game. Enough said. My Dad used to have a t-shirt that said “ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING” it’s generally not programmed into my personality to be super positive, in this case I’m pulling a George and doing what I normally wouldn’t do—I’m staying ridiculously positive that I WILL be running again, I WILLwalk normal, I WILLbe able to pull my jeans on without having to sit down.  My Dad also had a t-shirt that said “NO PAIN—NO GAIN” I know it’s going to be hard, it was hard to get out of bed at 6:30 this morning just to get on the bike I miss running, I miss going fast outside, I miss it.

1-1.  Injury’s point came when the pain was so great that I couldn’t get on the elliptical (my last grasp at sorta feeling like I was running,) my point came when I got creative: hot yoga, intervals on the bike and a killer ab workout. Any tips or workout suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

Now, I wait… and if you know me at all: I’m not very patient.

You Gotta Listen!

/ Sloan / Leave a comment

I feel like life is a series of us asking ourselves a long list of questions. Questions that we never really get definitive answers to. These questions, when you’re a kid, seem like the biggest issues that you’ll ever have to face. Like, who do you invite to your party? Or, chocolate or vanilla? Even questions like where to sit in math class—you don’t want to sit in the back and be associated with those kids, but you also don’t want to sit right up from and be a teacher’s pet, ewww.

As we grow up questions are a bit more important, ones like where to go to college, or do you drive after that last beer?… all of these decisions impact our lives in one way or another. Same as they did when we were younger, we had to ask ourselves these questions and ultimately the final decision came down to what we wanted, what your heart and head thought was right for you not anyone else.

 

So, where am I going with this!? What on earth could this possibly have to do with running? Per my last post, you must know that my bum hurts, bad. My (amazing) roommate (who is basically a Doctor) helped me figure out what is probably wrong, however—I haven’t been able to run for two solid weeks. My relationship with the elliptical is bordering on inappropriate. Not only am I sick of starring at the TV while I crank away on the machine—I’m mentally tired and missing my daily run, daily does of vitamin D and daily sightings on the road.

I’ve been asking myself a series of questions: does it realllly hurt that bad? (Yes.) Can I cross-train hard enough to finish this race that I planned on for April? (Probably.) Do I want to hinder my recovery just to do the race? (Hinder my ability to run? HELLZ NO!!!)

I want to recover as soon as possible. I want to enjoy this summer on my feet, in the trails and with my running group. I emailed my training buddy the other day telling him my qualms and booty pains, he confessed his running hasn’t been going well either. He’s older, a seasoned runner, an Ironman veteran, and knows that there are other races, other events to train for. He’s decided to listen to his body and pull the plug on the race.

In turn, I’m pulling the plug too. I’m being forced to listen to my body, (something I know I’m not good at, I tend to get stubborn and ignore key factors, my heart wins, my head is shut out and I don’t give my body the time of day to speak up)

I’m ready to train so that I can train for a race again. No more questions, just an answer. I have to admit that I can’t do this race and that’s okay. I’m going to sit in the middle of the classroom, I’m going to swirl chocolate and vanilla because they’re both so dang good, and I’m not driving after that last beer—I don’t want to risk it! One race isn’t worth my running “career”.