train

Gotta…

/ Sloan / Leave a comment

The Boston Marathon is Monday. Anyone running that race, FYI: you are a bad ass! Congrats, run hard, run fast, run smoothly. I wish you the best, you’ve trained hard all winter, this is where it matters.

I’ve been out for… hell, I’ve lost count. I don’t even know what running feels like any more, I’ve forgotten the feeling. I have been at the gym, I have been working out, I’m lifting, cross training, I went stand up paddle boarding with an account the other day—it was fabulous. But nothing beats the feeling of the wind in my hair, my legs moving swiftly, smoothly, effortlessly through the city or on the trail.

I’m waiting. Still waiting for that wave, still waiting to feel better than I feel now, I’m sure I could run but I don’t want to push it. I’m at the point where listening to my body isn’t the right option. Listening to my body would have me running and back tracking faster than I can lace up my running shoes. I’m listening to my body and then adding a week of cross training again, I want to be sure. I want to be sure I can run and not have to stop.

Because sometimes you just gotta run…

…run and keep going.

My Wave is Coming.

/ Sloan / 3 Comments

I’ve been avoiding writing a blog for a week or two due to the fact that once I really write about it, it makes it real-er. What is ‘it’? ‘It’ is the stress fracture that my doctor saw on the MRI I got. A stress fracture in my sacrum—which, according to my almost-doctor-roommate, doctor friend, and actual doctor I went to see—it’s a hard bone to fracture. I guess I’m just that talented! So besides going crazy what am I doing, you ask? I’ve been lifting, biking, sleeping in, listening to my body. I’ve had to listen reallllly hard. Usually I ignore those aches and pains and power through the pain and just attribute it to soreness—but this time it’s different, I truly need to let my body heal. And this is going to take time. Today is week 6.

 A while ago a man I met on the road gave me a book. He’s a fellow runner and athlete and gave me the book called The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks and Giants of the Ocean. Nothing to do with running really, but about the people in Hawaii chasing the biggest wave they can find. Catching that high that makes them get up in the morning, head to the beach and get on their board to surf this crazy ocean that seems angry, the water gets so big and so powerful I wonder why anyone would want to put themselves in the middle of that fight.

The book is great, I’m fascinated with this lifestyle. But then I hear about how these men, all of them, have suffered broken bones, impalings on the reefs, cuts, bruises, sprains, stitches and concussions. Yet they still go back. They heal, they bounce back and maybe they’re better for it. They’re out for weeks, maybe months healing, watching their friends catch the big waves and supporting them while they have to sit on the beach and watch. That’s me. I’m sitting out. Every week I get an email from my running group, Bob tells the group how far they need to run to be in condition for their spring time marathon, where and when they’re meeting. Then I text my friend and wish her a good run, and she texts me back saying she’ll miss my company on the run but “get healthy!”

The running community is a great support. I’m lucky to be a part of it, but I’m broken right now but I will be back, I will train for that rogue, freak or giant that is out there for me to conquer. This time off is just going to make me stronger for it…

Off to the recumbent bike and some weights! For those of you training, those of you who have been supportive to me in my craziness—thank you. Good luck in your races! I’ll be cheering for you!!!

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”.