Boston…here I come?

Would ya look at that, we’ve reached the end of January.

Well, shit. I guess I’m training for the Boston Marathon now?

Based on my offical-yet-loosey-goosey plan I told you all about at the beginning of the month, now is the time that I should be officially “starting” to train.

I feel many things about this, but namely…I’m a little overwhelmed with uncertainty. And it’s not just my body and health I’m uncertain about, but perhaps scariest of all, my motivation.

Don’t get me wrong: the idea of training for and racing Boston is so bright and sparkly in my head. The thought of running the course on April 21 makes me giddy, and I’m very grateful for the chance to do so. However, it’s the getting-there process I’m a little more apprehensive about, which is consequentially putting a kink in my excitement to get into training.

Real talk: I’m really not used to not being in good shape. That probably sounds way more conceited than I intended it to, but it’s a fact of the matter. For years, most of my easy days were what would be considered a long workout to many, and I was always able to count on a very solid base of endurance and strength when approaching my training and races.

That’s not the case right now. My workouts are much shorter and less intense than “normal,” I’m not able to float through runs with any kind of ease, and muscles that I never even knew I had before have disappeared (namely: the entirety of my butt). Not that I’m surprised by any of this, don’t get me wrong. The mere fact that “training for Boston” is on the table is something I’m hugely thankful for. But, this new reality of starting from scratch has been a harder pill to swallow than I anticipated.

Because I’m sure we can all agree on this: running, going to the gym, taking a class, etc. is so much easier to do when you’re in good shape. Sure, sometimes we have lazy days, but there’s a whole new level of willpower needed when you know that you’ll be struggling through your workout rather than kicking its ass.

(Obligatory acknowledgement that all of this is all incredibly eye-roll worthy complaining. I get it. It’s so very first world and things could be and have been much worse. But this is my blog, meant to detail my experiences in running. Cool? Cool.)

So, in a nutshell, the fact that I’m having to garner way more motivation for runs that are generally not fun and yield much slower results than I’m used to means that I’m not exactly chomping at the training bit. Not to mention the ill-effects of the weather, the dark mornings, and my need for bathroom access on every run.

There are moments of hope though, which rekindle my memory of being a happier runner. This past weekend, for instance, I was able to run multiple times around a foggy, quiet Greenlake and it was perfection. I’m also running without pain, which I’m grateful for with every footfall. My IT band isn’t 100%, as in it’s still stiff and cranky whenver I sit down, but I’m confident that it will be near 100% before too much longer. Also, for the first time last week, I found myself enjoying (at least for a little bit) my favorite strength class which recently has been embarrassingly difficult.

So yes. Progress is being made. I just need to remember to celebrate the little victories instead of expecting to instantly regain all of my strength and speed back. To use the most cliche yet appropriate metaphor, “It’s a marathon…not a sprint.”

I know, I’m sorry

So yes, I am now training for Boston. My mode of operation hasn’t changed, in that I’m focusing primarily on staying healthy, regaining fitness, and getting myself to the start line. Despite my natural instincts to plan out paces and workouts and goal times, it’s not really the time for those things. This training cycle is going to be about learning different kinds of lessons, namely in patience, in letting my body be my guide, and in appreciating the journey.

My focus will be on spending the next three months experiencing marathon training from a different vantage point, one that I am hoping will make me a more complete and smarter runner. I’m hoping Boston will be a victory lap of sorts, in terms of celebrating both the joys and the struggles I will inevitably face during the process. Because the joys cannot exist without the struggles, and if I’ve learned anything from these past few months — it’s that a heavy dose of perspective can be a pretty transformative thing.

Here’s to learning along the way and appreciating the smaller victories. And, hopefully, there will be a wonderful run from Hopkinton to Copely Square at the end of it all.

I’m planning on documenting the weekly training, per usual. So look for those coming soon 🙂

So with a chip on my shoulder and a healthy dose of humble pie, let’s get this underway!

Progress

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I keep going back and forth on subjects to blog about. One day, I’ll be convinced I’m never going to run fast again and then want to vent all my boo-hoo frustrations to the internet. Other days, I’m so gracious to have (most of) my health back and to be capable of running at all that I want to shout tear-filled gratitude from the rooftops.

Basically, I’m in a state of limbo; wavering between discouragement and encouragement, frustration and optimism.

However, no matter what mood I may fall into on a certain day, there is one thing that’s undeniable when it comes to both my fitness and my health: there’s progress being made.

I got a good slap-in-the-face of reality the other day. After a very slow, very not-enjoyable short run, I felt completely out of sorts. How was I ever going to break free from my out-of-shape shackles? As I was throwing this pity party, it suddenly dawned on me that it had been one month since I started running again. One little tiny month.

Get it together Robyn!

One month ago, I was slogging out 2 miles on Christmas Eve, after just starting to feel better from my horrible flare up. Just over month ago, I couldn’t even muster up the energy to get off the couch, let alone exercise at all.

Needless to say, I was a little humbled that I had the audacity to call into question my current fitness level. Of course it’s hard, of course it’s slow. There’s really no reason it shouldn’t be. But, the mere fact that I am out there and am able to jot something in my log book is a bit of a miracle.

I admit, nothing motivates me more than speed gains, so it’s tough for me to go from running a PR in the half marathon to running slower than I ever have in my life. But that’s the way running (and life) work sometimes; we progress and we regress. And after too much regression over the past few months, ultimately I’m going to try and be glad for any progress that comes my way.

Here is some running progress that’s happened since I disclosed my plan for getting to the Boston starting line:

-I’ve been running 3-ish times a week, and I’ve done two “long runs” in the past two weeks. They weren’t pretty or effortless, but they’re stepping stones to getting my head back into regular running mode. I’m going to try another long run this weekend, and hopefully by the time I’ll need to log some big miles, my endurance will have returned some.

-I haven’t been wearing a watch or a Garmin at all, which is very very intentional. I wore a stopwatch for a little while when I first started back up, but I’m too hard on myself when it comes to speed that I realized the surest way to make my runs a little more enjoyable was to ditch the numbers. I have a pretty good sense of pace, so I know I’m slow (for me), but the other day a glimpse of running magic happened:

I was out on a run in the early morning and I saw BF coming my way on the other side of the street, on his own run. He was about the turn around, so on the way back I started to see him coming out of the corner of my eye. He was still on the other side of the street, so there wasn’t any communication, but with about a 1/2 mile til home — we both started to pick up the pace. No eye contact, no gestures, we both just channeled our mutual competitive natures. I kept picking up speed, as I was certain he was going to jet by me at any moment. But we stayed neck-in-neck, and somehow I was able to keep going faster and faster. I was able to outstride him as we got to the front door, and despite feeling completely winded, I was elated. It was the first time I experienced speed of any kind in so long, and it felt positively wonderful. BF, who was using his phone to track the run, said that our little non-race/race at the end had clocked in at a 7:05 pace, which made me smile for the rest of the day.

I’ve come nowhere near that speed since, but the memory of the feeling and the knowledge that the potential is out there gives me a lot of comfort.

-I’m doing any and all kinds of recovery tricks, and they seem to be working. I stopped going to PT when I was really sick, but I’ve tried to keep doing the rehab exercises I learned to help continue to heal my janky IT band. It’s not 100%, but with each strengthening session it’s feeling better and better. I also got a sports massage last week which was incredibly helpful. It hurt, and I was bruised afterwards, but I could definitely feel the effects of having someone really dig into my tough spots. It was so good that I’m going back again tomorrow, and hopefully after one or two more sessions my lingering tightness will subside. The gal I go to can do 1/2 hour sessions, which is really nice for time management and my wallet.

So in terms of running—progress is definitely being made. I can feel the muscle memory coming back, and it’s encouraging to know that while I might not feel my best right now, running is a routine my body is ultimately very familiar with. The best metaphor I can come up with is that I feel like Forrest Gump when he has the leg braces on his legs and he’s trying to run away; the braces are there for a purpose, but eventually he’s able to outgrow and break free of them. So here’s hoping I’ll be breaking free of my current struggles sooner rather than later.

(I am not, in any way, trying to equate being out-of-shape to having actual disabilities. Please do not read that metaphor literally at all.)

Finally, the biggest progress that’s happened has been the return of my health. I’ve made some leaps and bounds in the last month, and I’m so very grateful that my body has bounced back so well. I went to my GI doctor for the first time since I was sick this week so she could look at my labs that were, you might remember, “terrible” when she last checked them. The morning after I got the bloodwork done, I had an email from her that said:

“Your labs all look perfect. This is a dramatic improvement.”

I was ecstatic—and doing way too many imaginary first bumps in my head while sitting at work. While physically I feel so much better, it was so reassuring to know that the science behind it all was showing the same thing. Again, I’m not 100%, but compared to how I felt before, I might as well be. My doctor is confident that the medication I’m on will continue to have bettering effects over the next few weeks.

So despite my occasional belly-aching about being slow and my actual belly-aching from Crohn’s, progress is definitely being made. I am ultimately so thankful to be sitting in a different place than I was just one short month ago, and I can only hope things continue this way. Admittedly, after injury and illness, it’s hard not to be scared of another road block popping up. Which it might. But until then, I’m going to do everything I can to keep getting stronger and pressing forward.

Progress feels good, and no matter how long it may take, it feels like I’m moving in the right direction.

The Boston plan, for now

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In my head, I really want to write out your run-of-the-mill “Goals for 2014” blog post. There are two problems with doing that though: 1) I’m goal-less, and 2) I’m a little unsure of what this year will look like, and don’t want to set myself up for disappointment.

Neither of those things are a solid recipe for a motivational “Hell ya let’s do this 2014!” post.

Truth be told, being unsure about the future scares me less than feeling like I don’t have any goals. If the end of 2013 taught me anything, it’s that you never really know what life will throw your way. Admittedly, I’m a little scared to put my all-in ambition out into the universe just yet, because I was knocked on my rear pretty hard not too long ago. In the same breath, while I am definitely recuperating nicely and feeling more and more like my old self, I also know that there are some changes coming up that will put a wrench in any plan-making. Therefore, it’s hard to think of setting goals in a somewhat unpredictable environment.

*Cryptic blogging, I know. Sorry.*

But as I said, those changes and uncertainties regarding my health and life in general aren’t actually what’s getting to me. In fact, I feel a certain sense of resilience when I imagine all the unknowns, and in a weird way I feel more ready for them.

What is digging at me is how directionless I feel.

For so long it’s been all about dedicating a training season to a new distance, a certain time goal, or a qualifying standard. While there are plenty of those options still available to me, for whatever reason I am just not feeling inspired by much of anything. Perhaps it’s because I’m so gravely out of shape (strong likelihood), or perhaps it’s because I’ve been so out-of-sorts for the last few months. Either way, it’s irking me that I can’t seem to get excited about anything.

I’m sure it will come, and I realize it’s only 1 week into the new year, but in the mean time I’ve decided to just focus on the next upcoming months of rebuilding, restrengthening, and (if I’m lucky) getting myself across the Boston Marathon finish line.

So, in lieu of shouting a big sparkly goal time from the rooftops for Boston and proclaiming all the magical sweat-filled things I want to do in 2014, I’ve instead settled upon a step-by-step road map of sorts for getting myself from a wheezing, calf-less, cheese-binging girl-on-the-mend to a Boston marathon finisher. And please note, finisher is the operative word here.

January

This month is 100% devoted to building back my endurance, strength, and generally learning how to run again.

I’m optimistic that my IT band injury is on the way out the door, but that doesn’t mean that it’s ready for full-clearance. Generally, my entire right leg seems to have a mind of its own nowadays. Even on days when I do absolutely nothing at all, it seems like a new area is irritated for no apparent reason. I’m going to have to match my “rebuilding” ambitions with equal amounts of TLC to ensure that I don’t sideline myself even further.

I’ve also very intentionally decided that getting back in shape does not need to be exclusive to running. And in fact, it shouldn’t be. Lots of swimming, elliptical (bleh), spinning, etc. will all be incorporated in attempts to reestablish my endurance. Running will be very purposeful and tactical throughout this process. I.E: my runs will be spaced out, will be done only when I’m feeling good, and will be built up slowly and steadily.

I’m also trying very hard to ignore the fact that most people running Boston have already started their training. I would have started by now too should conditions have been different. But, this is the hand I’ve been dealt, and instead of focusing on the miles and paces that shoulda, woulda, coulda…I’m going to keep focus on what I can do right now.

So, January is about recuperating while still getting some fitness back. And I am very intentionally not starting “Boston Marathon training” yet.

February

Should things go well in January (running without pain, not wallowing through every single workout, happy intestines), I will “officially” being training for Boston on February 1. I don’t have any idea what this training will look like, other than I’m fairly certain it will not resemble marathon training of the past. At this point, I’m going to be focused on getting in the long runs and generally building mileage. That’s about it, running wise. Maybe a miracle will happen and I’ll be inspired to get all tempo/goal pace/mile repeats crazy…but I’m doubting it. And that’s fine.

In December, in the midst of failing health, I decided that should things turn around and should I be able to get myself to Boston, it would be for the finish, and not the clock. At that point, getting out the door seemed like a success, so the idea of even getting to Boston felt like a reach goal.

Now that I’m (hopefully) able to try and pursue that goal…I want it to be without pressure or chance of disappointment. At the same time, this is going to no doubt be a special year at Boston, and I’d like to soak as much of it up as I can, should I make it there. This is the same mentality I went into Chicago with…no pressure, just enjoy the race…and I had the most enjoyable marathon of my life, easily.

So, in a perfect world, I will start training and building mileage on the 1st of February, giving me 12 weeks to get myself marathon-ready. If I were at my normal level of fitness, I would feel fine about this. However, given my current state of patheticness, I’m much more nervous. Rediscovering just how hard running (and marathon training) really is is not exactly what I’d been hoping for in training for Boston.

But, it is what it is. And ultimately, I’m grateful to even having the ability to make a “training plan,” given the unfortunate state I’ve recently been in.

As for March and April, ideally, I’ll be carrying on per standard marathon training procedure. It will all be very dependent on my body’s temperament, but overall I’m planning on getting myself in shape to run a marathon and enjoy it. No killing myself with workouts for the sake of a certain time this time around, and I’m fine with that. And to tell you the truth, considering my current “pace” is MINUTES slower than I regularly run, I know I’m no where near ready to even think about my time, training wise and race wise. And that’s okay.

So, the name of the game for the next three weeks is to get myself back into shape. Run some, swim some, stretch a lot, roll a lot, and generally let my body be my guide. Should all go according to plan, I’ll be looking at 12 weeks of prep to get myself to the Boston start line. It’s not going to be pretty, and it won’t always be fun, but if nothing else…I’ve got determination on my side. I fought hard for my BQ last spring, and I am going to be relentless in ensuring that effort is rewarded in April.

Coming Back to Life, Slowly

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There are a whole range of topics that I want to blog about right now.

“Want” being the operative word in that sentence, since in the past few months I’ve admittedly not been “wanting” to blog about much of anything. But, somehow, through all that’s been going on and through all the inevitable life-examination that happens at the end of the year, I’ve found myself anxious to put my hands on the keys.

Since it’s kind of necessary to do some updating, before I dive into all these “want” topics I’ll catch you up-to-speed on what’s been happening in life since I last wrote.

Stomach Stuff

The most important update I have is that after a month of failing health and general misery, I’m on a definite upswing! Fortunately, the medication my doctor prescribed seems to have worked magically with my unhappy gut, and I’ve been on the mend for the past two weeks or so. It was pretty remarkable how quickly I went from a nearly bed-ridden existence to feeling somewhat like myself again. It was night and day, really, and I feel really lucky especially since this particular medication doesn’t always work on everyone. That, and since there’s still plenty of unknowns about Crohn’s, there wasn’t really a way to predict just how long my flare up would last.

Four shots, two in each leg. I get to do these myself now…fun stuff.

So, the short and long of it: I’m so much better than I was just a few weeks ago, and although I’m still experiencing some symptoms and won’t be eating raw vegetables anytime soon…I think it’s safe to say I’m nearing the other side of this flare up.

I’m so very thankful for the progressive return of my health, and I’m hoping that whatever started working continues to do so.

This was my position of choice for several weeks. Little J was close by though.

Christmas Update

While I was a self-proclaimed Grinch in my last post, luckily my symptom relief coincided nicely with Christmas Eve and Day. I was able to celebrate a wonderful Christmas, and despite not being able to enjoy a lot of the season, I feel like I got a good fill. I spent Christmas in Colorado with my family, and we’ve since traversed the country (yes, I was able to go on the road trip!) and are currently spending New Year’s in Pasadena, CA. We’re going to the Rose Parade tomorrow and I can’t wait. Being around people I love combined with an increase in energy has been a special kind of medicine that has undoubtedly helped my mending process.

Running Update

When I was really sick, the last thing on my mind was exercise. It was the first time in years that I had no care whatsoever for how inactive I was. The little energy I did have was completely devoted to getting myself to work and performing the most basic of functions. Needless to say, my fitness kind of went down the tubes. I also lost a good amount of weight, a lot of which came straight from my hard-earned glute and quad muscles. Sad. I think I spent about two and a half weeks of literally doing nothing at all, and once I started feeling better, the most I could muster up were little hikes or walks around my neighborhood in Colorado. And when you haven’t been doing anything at all for weeks, those baby walks feel like a huge accomplishment.

As you might remember, before all this whole flare up business happen, I wasn’t running at all. I was doing physical therapy on my bursitis-filled leg 2-3 times a week, and things were definitely getting better. But once my gut decided to explode, I couldn’t manage to get myself into PT anymore, and my grand return to running was further delayed. Once I started to feel like a human being again, however, my curiosity of how my bum leg would fare on the run began to return. I was out-of-shape, I was at 6,000 feet of altitude in CO, and I knew my injury wasn’t totally healed. But still, it was too tempting to not test.

So, on Christmas Eve, I laced up my neglected running shoes and very slowly started to jog. I felt creaky, awkward, and slow. My breathing was heavy right from the start, and I can guarantee I haven’t run that slowly in years. But, somehow, 2.5 miles later…I was still standing upright. There was nothing pretty about it, but for the first time in a month and a half of PT exercises, ellipticals, and illness, I ran.

Two days later, I was able to get out again, and this time I went a little over 3.5 miles. And two days ago, I ran for 50 minutes. It’s humbling, to say the least; my stride is janky, my speed is gone, and my lungs are burning after just a mile. But we all have to start somewhere, and given the state of my body just a few weeks ago, I consider this progress a big success. It’s going to be a long road, no doubt about it. My leg is still healing, and I’m going to continue to do all of the tedious recovery necessities to be 100% pain free again. The endurance fitness that I have always been able to fall back on has been wiped away, and I’m essentially starting from scratch.

But, I can’t help but think of this as a beautiful opportunity for small victories. On Christmas Eve, 2.5 miles felt like a success. 2 days ago, 50 minutes felt like an even bigger success. In this regard, I’m looking forward to reliving all those wonderful milestones that come with returning to running.

Additionally, starting over gives a whole new appreciation for the sport, and all the great lessons learned along the way. I can promise there will be some whining and general complaining during the process, but I’m hoping to use this opportunity as a sort of running re-birth; as a chance to get smarter, stronger, and hopefully at some point — faster.

So while the end of 2013 wasn’t what I expected, I’m hoping that my reintroduction to the running world will make 2014 something truly special.

And in case you’re wondering, I do have a plan for Boston. And a plan for the year in general, both of which I’ll be sharing soon.

Happy happy New Year to everyone! This was, overall, a wonderful year for me with a not-so-wonderful ending, so I’ll be both celebrating it this evening and kicking its butt out the door.

Step on in, 2014.

Being Thankful

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…or “Thankful Things Friday.” Because we all know all blog posts need a catchy title that coincides with the day-of-the-week.

Here’s the deal: my sense of holiday spirit and my general attitude toward life has been in the pits the past few weeks. Save for buying presents for my peeps and putting up the tree, I’ve mainly been avoiding the fact that my favorite season is currently being drowned in sickness.

The cookies I would be baking, the parties I would be attending, the jingle bell dashes I would be running…all of those ordinarily joyful Christmas things haven’t happened. Actually, they haven’t even been considered.

It’s sucked, no doubt. I still have yet to have one Christmas cookie, and I’m not even sure I’ll be able to have one this year. I heard “Where Are You Christmas?” on the radio the other day and nearly started ugly-sobbing on the spot. But, the nice thing about annually occurring holidays is that they’ll be here again. Presuming all is well and good next year, I will undoubtedly celebrate to the max — making up for all the Grinching I’ve done this year.

But, until that time comes, I’ve realized that despite the fact that most of my merry holiday expectations haven’t been met, there are still things I’m thankful for—with or without my health.

So, instead of hate-writing everything I’m bitter about right now, I thought it might do my toxic mind a little good to recap those things for which I am glad about:

1) I’m thankful I no longer have to take finals.

Can I get an amen? Seriously — I forgot just how ridiculously stressful all those semester-end tests made the Christmas season. After reading some Facebook statuses from friends still in school, I was thrilled that I no longer needed to worry about all-night study sessions or last-minute paper writing. Sure, I’d like to go back to school someday, but for right now — I’m relishing just how lovely all my homework-free evenings have been.

2) I’m thankful I’m done with Christmas shopping.

As mentioned previously, all my shopping is actually something I have accomplished despite my otherwise sluggish existence. I did have a slight advantage in this regard; I try to start shopping early, mainly to make the bank-account blow a little more spread out. So, I was mostly done before I got sick. Otherwise, Amazon is my bff. You can get EVERYTHING on there, people. I still don’t understand why some actively choose to go to malls when you can comfortably take your time at your computer screen instead and achieve nearly the exact same outcome? Whatever.

I’m happy I’m done, and I really love giving gifts, so it will be fun to do some giving.

3) I’m thankful for Jasper.

My little kitten has been a shining little ball of light during this dark spell. Sure, I have to be very conscious of him not pouncing on my stomach, and the smell of his food makes me even more nauseated, but otherwise — he brings a smile to my face. His energy and innocent curiosity are infectious, and it’s hard to remain too sullen when there’s a purring kitten vying for your attention. I also think he kind of knows I’m sick, because he’s paid particular attention to laying down with me and near my head.

4) I’m thankful I’ll be escaping Seattle on Saturday.

This weekend, BF and I will be jetting off to the motherland, Colorado, for a cold-climate Christmas. While I’m not looking forward to the flight itself, I have a feeling I will be incredibly relieved to be at home. I might not be able to do much of anything, but at the very least, I’ll have a different couch to watch my muscles atrophy into. Okay, in all seriousness, I know that being around my family will brighten my spirits no matter the circumstances. Brightening is really what I’m in need of right now, so I’m thankful for the vacation time that allows for this much-needed trip.

After CO, we’re allegedly road-tripping to Pasadena, CA for a warm-climate New Year. I say allegedly, because my ability to road-trip is questionable at the moment, but you never know how I’ll feel in a week. Either way, I’ll be there with even more of my family and I can’t wait. We have tickets to the Rose Parade, and I’m commanding my body to be up for it.

This trip is coming at the perfect time, and I’m thankful for the people waiting on the other end for me.

5) I’m thankful for a boyfriend who doesn’t care that his girlfriend is going to the bathroom after every other bite.

That was supposed to be a little funny. But, I am indeed so thankful for my nurse, Mr. BF, who has tended to my every need over the past three weeks. Not only that, but he’s been keeping our home live-able, which is vital for my mental state to remain in tact. He is also willing to hear about all my less-than-beautiful symptoms and ailments, and if that doesn’t indicate a keeper…I don’t know what does.

Unfortunately, I haven’t felt like a good girlfriend in a long time, and BF has not only tolerated my belly-aching (both literal and figurative) but he’s acted like a teammate along the way. I couldn’t really ask for more.

6) I’m thankful for grilled cheese sandwiches…

…and mac and cheese. I can’t stomach a lot of things, but bread and cheese are true saving graces right now. I’m starting to get a little disgusted with just how much of these food groups I’ve been consuming every day, but…desperate times man. My doctor instructed me to eat anything and everything that sounds appetizing, so I’m going for it. My weight isn’t exactly a concern nowadays either, so it’s actually probably a good thing I include the extra Beecher’s when I can.

On that note, I am a little horrified of just how much muscle I think I’ve already lost. Ordinarily, when I’m not running, I’m at least doing enough substitutes that my fitness stays in tact. Not this time, folks. It’s looking like I’ll be starting from square one whenever I’m back in the saddle, and while that scares the daylights out of me…it leads me to my last thankful thing:

7) I’m thankful for hope.

Hope in getting healthy. Hope in getting to Boston. Hope in getting my feet back under me. The nice thing about getting the carpet swept out from under you is that there’s really no where to go but up. I am a chronically hopeful person, and while this situation has certainly rocked my world, it has only re-established my belief that hope is sometimes the best medicine. I intend to celebrate each small victory I can, and while the process is going to be slow, I know I won’t be taking any of the small steps for granted.

This morning, for instance, I was able to put on makeup without getting too tired and having to sit down. It sounds so silly to consider this a feat, but in comparison to how I’ve been feeling otherwise, this was a big win for me.

On that note, here’s a small update: I am feeling a little better. I’m reluctant to say so, since there’s been some good days and bad days, but generally—since I received my first treatment injection last week—my worst symptoms seem to have lightened up.

So while I’m not ready to go making tons of plans or make a training schedule, I’m trying to keep positive thoughts flowing. Because, after all, sometimes optimism can cure even the Grinchiest of birds.

No matter your current health, running, job, financial status, etc., I encourage everyone to think about the good that still exists. I can promise, more than likely, there’s more than you realize.

Thank you everyone for your kind notes, texts, and emails. I truly appreciate your words, and it makes me even more thankful for this supportive community.

A Second Diagnosis

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“When something works, you wonder how it ever breaks. When something breaks, you wonder how it ever worked.”

This post is not an add-on to my IT band injury.

In fact, an alternative title could have been, “How to ensure you rapidly fix your running injury and simultaneously not care that you have one at all!”

Sounds like a revolution, right? Well, that alternative “title” was actually my attempt at humor, in an otherwise humor-less post.

The truth is: my IT band is getting much better, and while I’m definitely glad for it—running is really the last thing on my mind right now.

It took a while for me to decide whether or not I would write this post. I wavered between thinking it was over-sharing and thinking it was therapeutic. I’ve landed somewhere in the middle, and while I’m going to hold onto some privacy and not provide too many details, the truth is that I’m a writer. When I’m at a complete loss, which unfortunately I am right now, writing is one of the few elixirs I can count on to cleanse my mind. At least for a little bit.

You may or may not have heard on here before that I’ve dealt with ulcertive colitis for nearly 5 years now. It’s mostly been in remission, and with the exception of a bad flare up right around the Eugene Marathon (great timing, I know), I haven’t been too radically affected by it.

Somehow, in the course of just two weeks, that all changed.

I’ve yet to come up with any reason why (and perhaps there is none), but over the past 14 days my health has completely deteriorated. I currently feel like a shell of myself, and while my mind is still trying to get used to the shock of it all—my attention is primarily focused on the physical side of things.

Essentially, what started as a stomach ache turned into intolerable intestinal pain, coupled by absolutely zero energy, innumerable bathroom trips, and an aversion to nearly all food. My doctor had an emergency procedure done last Friday after checking me out on Thursday night, and somehow my remissed colitis has advanced, taken over my gut, and is now classified as Crohn’s disease.

It was not, let’s just say, a great way to start the weekend or holiday season.

I went in for a blood and biopsy follow-up yesterday afternoon, and I’m currently popping more pills than anyone my age ever should. My charts “look terrible” and indicate all of the concerns my doctor had initially. We have a plan in place, and I can only hope that by some luck it’s the right formula to get this under control. I’ve been able to garner some energy during the days, but every night/morning has been an incessant battle of fatigue, bathroom trips, and complete discomfort.

I’m feeling both very checked in and checked out at this point. In one regard, I’m acutely tuned into every little change and signal in my body. But in the other regard, nearly every other thing that typically builds me up and brings me joy has been shoved to the back of my mind. It makes me feel like a complete stranger to myself, and that may be one of the toughest things of all.

I’m someone who thrives on living fully, on to-do lists, on making the most of everything, and in my current state, I consider doing a dish or getting dressed a success. In a matter of a few days, my survival instincts have completely taken over my every-day instincts, and it’s really throwing me off. I haven’t even considered exercise recently, and this is easily the longest I’ve gone in years without even caring about missing it. There’s about 5 different foods that I can tolerate the thought of, and that list is getting whittled down by the day.

So that’s where I’m at. Two of my most treasured attributes, my running and my health, have both jetted off to some unknown future destination. While I know they’ll both return, I’m feeling a little blind ambling back toward them without a schedule or a timeline.

Please know that I am not writing this in an attempt to solicit pity or sympathy. I have many blessings for which I’m especially thankful for right now, and I fully know that things could certainly be much worse. I just felt it was fair to my readers to notify you of where I’ve been, and I needed someplace to unload a bit.

Your health is an incredibly important and often times taken-for-granted part of life. It’s so easy to forget how lucky we are to have normal, functioning bodies when they are working properly. As said in the beginning of this post, you wonder how it ever breaks. But when it is broken, as mine unfortunately is, you long for those days of unconsciously living your life.

Please, remember to live consciously, and be thankful for your health.

More Leg Talk + Diagnosis

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I’m not super inclined to continue publishing posts with the “injury” tag on them, but as is typical when I’m off the roads, I spend an excessive amount of time thinking about my current circumstance. Too much thinking results in excess brain fatigue, and without the outlet of a good, therapeutic run, I wind up depending on word vomit as my refuge.

In other words: I apologize for these dribbling, pathetic posts, but I need to get it all out in order to keep the toxic thoughts from burning my insides.

A lot has happened, though, which has all been constructive, daunting, and marginally encouraging.

I had my first ever PT appointment last Friday night. I know—somehow through four injuries, two of which were quite serious, I had yet to venture into an expert’s office. Relying on Google and general docs had worked before, but I wanted to take a more proactive approach this time.

In order to get as much bang for my buck, I gave the guy I saw A LOT of detail. I’ve heard they appreciate this, so I felt like a good rookie. He did lots of mini strength tests, flexibility things, and took me through a series of ART exercises. And just for good measure, an “into” to Graston—as he put it. Since there was a lot I took out of this, here’s some easier-to-read bullet points:

ART is awesome. The tweaking and stretching and adjusting he did to my legs felt great, and even if they don’t have lasting effects, it all felt very necessary in the moment.

Graston wasn’t as bad as I expected. Sure it was definitely an “intro,” so I may be eating my words later on, but I sort of liked it. It felt somewhat pins-and-needles-y, which escalated the longer he did it, but I liked that I could actually feel the progress happening. He explained that he was essentially scraping the scar tissue off of my lower IT band (the spot he chose to work on), and I felt like I could actually picture it happening. My best metaphor is that is felt a little like getting a tattoo.

My ankles, quads, feet, and glutes are all misaligned and/or messed up. I took this all with a grain of salt, given that of course the PT wants to fix every little thing he possibly can. But according to him, there’s a number of things wrong with me, which lead to the current decrepit state of my IT band. Things like: My quads have shortened on both sides which is throwing off my gait (subsequent foot pain, which I’ve had for months), my glutes are weak and aren’t firing in the correct way when I run, my ankles are unstable, I overpronate, and I lack the hip flexibility necessary for proper kinetic fluidity. Lost? Me too. It was all so much to take in, and I kind of felt like a failure of a runner/person after hearing all that. Like I was the bad kid in class, and the teacher was reprimanding me in front of everyone. Again, I wanted to assert some discretion, so I’m choosing to focus on the greatest takeaways: basic weaknesses cause my IT band to lock up, so I need to work on those.

Perhaps the most important lesson I learned while I was there was what’s actually wrong with me: My IT band is really inflamed/tight/unhappy, which is causing Greater Trochanteric Bursitis. So, ITBS + hip bursitis. The good news, those are both treatable, manageable things. The bad news, I’ve been trying to remedy these problem for the past two weeks, and I’m not seeing a lot of progress.

I was glad to feel like I learned so much from this appointment, and I’m 90% certain his diagnosis is spot on. All the symptoms I’m experiencing match the textbook definitions of these things, and it’s relieving to give a name to the face of the enemy I’ve been jousting with. But, at the same time, I felt really overwhelmed upon leaving his office: Do I need to change the way I run completely? How long will that take? How deeply rooted is this issue? What do I need to fix? How long will that take?

You can probably sense the theme in those unanswerable questions above. I can’t help but look down the proverbial road at how long my sideline stay will last. The uber-faint siren sound of “Boston Marathon Training” seems to get louder with every day that passes, and I have a hard time shutting out the internal clocks and calculators that start to assemble scary deadlines.

Ultimately, I know there’s still time, and I feel like I’ve run enough marathons at this point that a shorter training schedule won’t be the worst thing, if it comes to that. But, there’s still the quiet fear that keeps ringing in my head. My attempts at silencing it for the time being will involve more PT visits (so long as I think it’s helping), all the standard RICE/rolling/cross train prescriptions, NSAIDS, and stretching. More than anything though, I’m going to try and keep my mind focused on the {positive} future. I decided to fake it a little yesterday and started to write a very preliminary, lose training program. It didn’t necessarily have dates or paces or workouts on it, but just seeing the numbers, and knowing that I will (fingers crossed) be running them at some point, pulled me out of the darkness. At least for a little.

So that’s where I’m at. Another pissy bursa sac and a maxed out IT band. Having dealt with bursitis once before when I was training for the Tacoma Marathon, I know that a cortisone shot could be an option. Still deliberating on that one. But, for now, I’m going to continue to hope for the best and keep my mind focused on those future miles which will ultimately lead me to the start line on April 21. It’s hard to imagine when I physically can’t run at all right now, but I need to remember that injuries aren’t a permanent state of being.

My short term goal is going to be to be running (however slow or short) by Christmas. I can guarantee this will result in my dedicating all Christmas songs to running (namely, “All I Want For Christmas Is You”) but that’s a conversation for another day.

Please do this winter-running lover a favor and enjoy every crisp, cold miles you get to spend outside. Running is a privilege, and I’m thankful (teeth somewhat gritted) for the tough-love reminder of that.

Grumpy Leg Update

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Since I told you all that I’d keep you updated on how my whole mystery leg pain situation is going (note: not using the i-word), here’s some current info:

Things have been progressively getting better since my 2-mile limp home disaster 1.5 weeks ago. I’m 95% sure right now it’s not a stress fracture, given the healing status and since I didn’t really think it was one to begin with. While I haven’t gone back to the doctor (I don’t really see a need at this point), I’ve kind of been going with a self-diagnosis of really bad IT Band Syndrome. And before I get harped on for trusting WebMD, let me just say that this is based on the fact that I’ve had this ailment before, and the knee pain I experienced then compared to now is nearly identical.

However, I’m still a little unsure. I definitely think this is in part a very knotty and naughty IT band, however I’m experiencing weakness and little jolts of pain in my upper hip/thigh area too, which isn’t necessarily a symptom of ITBS. I guess it could be a residual thing, but at this point my higher levels of pain are localized more up in that region rather than in my knee. It’s odd. I can definitely find a few pressure points which are super tender, so that’s something.

Either way, I’m going to a PT/ART guy on Friday, and hopefully I’ll be able to get some more clarity there. I’m excited and nervous—I’ve never had PT or ART before, so it will be an experience nonetheless. I’m guessing my pain tolerance will be tested a bit, but if the end game is running sooner rather than later, I say bring it on.

So, while the healing process is definitely progressive, I’m still wary. I try to knock myself off my cloud of hopefulness when I get too dreamy about a super quick recovery, but at the same time—it’s hard not to. Walking is becoming much more normal, and despite some pain whenever I stand up from sitting—I’m able to get around somewhat comfortably.

Here’s some things I’ve been doing to facilitate healing and keep in shape (both physically and mentally):

-I haven’t run a step. Nor have I really wanted too. I’ve been in this position enough times before to know that full rest from the onset is imperative. At first, I couldn’t try running again even if I’d wanted to, and now that it’s getting to a point where I think a test run could be do-able—I’m still holding off. I want to complete a full two weeks of no running before I try my leg out again. Like I said in my last post, the end goal is not to run again now, but to run again when it’s time to train for Boston. I’m trying with all my might to keep that in mind, despite how much I want to look forward to running sooner.

-Roll/Stretch/Massage. Nothing groundbreaking here, but I’m been rolling and stretching my IT band and hip like it’s my job. It provides pretty immediate relief, and I follow a golden rule that if it hurts to foam roll, it means you should keep doing it. I’ve been trying to find those aforementioned “hot spots” that are super tight/tender and roll the crap out of them. It’s not entirely pleasant, but I like feel like I’m actively trying to help my leg out a bit.

-Cross training. Per doctor’s orders, I’ve kept blood circulating a la all the typical (and torturous) gym cardio-facilitators. I can do pretty much everything, and while my leg is stiff when I start off, once I get moving I can hardly feel it. The elliptical, frankly, blows, but it’s been sufficing for getting a sweat in. Per usual, swimming has been my default cross-training bff. I tried simulating my usual long run Saturday with a long swim last week. While it was definitely a good workout, it is 100% more boring to long swim than long run (fact). I’ve also been trying to hit the weights more often than normal since, you know, I have a little more time. I really don’t like the gym anymore, unfortunately, and this little timeout is reminding me how much I’d been avoiding regularly going and just running instead.

-Meds. I still have prescription anti-inflammatories from when I hurt my ankle before Chicago, and I’ve started a pill-popping regimen. They were a lifesaver before, so hopefully they’ll help move the process along.

-Ice. Who knows it it really helps or not, but I find it very theraputic to take a frozen Dixie cup of water and rub the crap out of my entire upper leg while drinking a hot cup of tea. I feel like I can really dig into the tough spots this way, and ice has always been a good recovery tool for me. So, while it might not be making long-term effects, it helps me feel a little more in control of my uncontrollable circumstance.

-Sleep. While I’m noticeably not as tired as when I’m running as much as usual (shock!), I’m definitely still trying to log as many zzzs as possible. I read somewhere that your body does the most healing while it’s asleep, so maybe that’s part of it. But more so, I kind of feel like I haven’t really “slept in” since…um…before Eugene. There is something so deliciously wonderful about taking your sweet time waking up and getting out of bed in the morning on the weekend, and I’m trying to savor this opportunity to indulge. I think we all know that I prefer to be out running while others are sleeping, but somehow I’m kind of basking in the mental reprieve rather than loathing it.

On that note, I feel like I’m handling this situation far better than I would have pictured, or than I would have a year ago. It could just be growing up more or becoming a more seasoned runner, but I’m finally starting to admit to myself that maybe it’s because I needed the break. I’ve been promising myself “a week” off for months, and because of habit and/or disinterest, I never ended up doing it. Sure, I would have preferred for my off time to be a little less forced, but I have to admit that I actually haven’t missed running that much.

I never thought I would type those words, and I’m guessing you didn’t either 🙂 I’m certain this feeling will pass quite soon, but I think both my body and mind are at peace with taking the down time. I’ve been running 40-50 miles per week for the past 5 months or so, and while I never actively felt burnt out—I’m starting to think I really was. I get sad thinking about not running in the near future (Seattle Half-Marathon, Christmas fun runs, etc.) but I actually haven’t felt the urge to run now. My only explanation for this is that my body and mind have wanted a break for a long time, and now that they’re finally getting one, they’re trying to savor it. I suppose I should thank my subconscious for that. Also, I think I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that running goes hand-in-hand with hiccups. There’s not a runner I know who hasn’t had to take a step back, and I’m realizing that doing so doesn’t make you less of a runner, it’s part of being one.

I’m fully prepared for this zen-state to be broken at any time now, but that’s my update as of late. In a nutshell: I’m getting better, I’m going to have my leg brutally physical-therapied tomorrow, and I’m trying to be patient.

Where I’ve Been

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Where have I been?

Good question.

More or less, I’ve been hiding. Hiding from blogging, hiding from people, hiding from reality.

Because my reality is that I’m not running, and that’s not something I want to talk about much at all.

It started out a couple of weeks ago; I’d feel the tiniest tug on the outside of my right knee when I’d get up from my desk. I was curious, but also a little casual about it; sitting for a long time will make already-fatigued muscles cranky, so I pressed on—promising myself to get up more often and roll more.

Running at this point was fine. No pain, no irritation even, just regular ole running. The twinge in my knee subsided too, so I figured I was in the clear. However, last week, after a soaking-wet rain run, things weren’t so okay. The knee ache was definitely there, and it was trying to get my attention. It wasn’t even really painful, just a nuisance. I’d been around this block before to know exactly what that knee pulling was (IT band stuff) and so I decided to take two days completely off and reevaluate on Sunday. Sunday came, and everything felt normal. I prided my over-cautiousness and set out to test my leg on a run.

And things felt great! It was great, cold running weather, my leg felt a little stiff but good, and generally everything was going swimmingly.

Until it wasn’t.

Within the course of about 30 seconds, everything completely fell apart. My knee started throbbing, and then my groin was on fire, and my entire IT band seemed to shorten my leg to the point that my stride was completely lopsided. I pulled to a dead stop, frustrated, and I knew my only choice was to take a runner’s walk of shame back to my car. Bonus: my car was 2 miles away. I had no phone, no money, and was essentially forced to endure a gimpy plod back. And that “great” cold weather? Not so great when you’re slowly walking along a windy beach front in short shorts. The looks I got ranged from sheer horror to “you look so pathetic” sympathy, and none of them did anything to help my already-fuming mood.

Eventually, I got back, got home, stood in the shower for nearly half an hour trying to warm up, and tried to evaluate wtf happened. My “slight knee ache” had turned into complete debilitating hip/quad pain that ripples whenever I walk. Over the past few days, it’s gotten marginally better, but not enough to alleviate the limp that I’m forced to trudge around with.

I went to the doctor yesterday (a very running-specific ortho, highly recommend him) and he asked all kinds of questions, moved my legs in all different kinds of ways, and deduced the somewhat obvious potential diagnoses: it’s either a muscle or a bone.

My instructions are to baby it for a week (no weight bearing, ice, cross training to get blood flow) and if it’s not improving by next Tuesday, more intensive (and expensive) measures will be taken. He left me with some interesting, but conflicting, observations:

-Femoral stress fractures do happen, but since my mileage/intensity hasn’t changed drastically recently, I don’t really fit the profile.

-A quad muscle strain is possible, although they’re rare in runners given the likelihood that their quads are in solid condition

So, basically, neither are likely, but it’s probably one or the other. Confused? Me too. But mostly just disappointed and sad. I’ve spent over a year running pain-free and feeling strong and confident. To go from that to being completely incapable of running (or really even walking) is really discouraging, to say the least.

Somehow, I still have yet to have a total meltdown, which is ordinarily one of my injury-induced specialties. I don’t know if it’s because I’m in denial, if I don’t really have a diagnosis, or if I’ve just gotten used to the process—but no matter what, I’m still expecting some heaving sobs to happen at some point.

The other thing is that while there’s no good time to be injured, this isn’t necessarily bad timing. The next race I truly care about is Boston, and my healing focus is 100% on getting ready to train for that race. Relatively speaking, I still have a long ways to go until training even starts (beginning of January), so circumstantially, it could be worse. I’m not exactly thrilled about the idea of my fitness going down the tubes right before training starts, but I suppose I’ll just need to roll with those punches when the time comes.

However, at the same time, the beginning of January isn’t that far away. And if this is something serious (stress fracture), there’s a high likelihood that recovery will start to overlap with the technical “start” of training.

But, without any kind of diagnosis, I’m going to hang onto cautious optimism for now. While I really, really don’t like the idea of being totally impaired over the holiday season and during my favorite running weather, it’s a price I’m 100% willing to pay to be healthy for Boston training.

So there’s my update. I’m in an okay mood for the time being so it felt like a good time to get it all out there. It’s also been feeling better little by little every day so that’s helping. I have a lot more to say on the matter, in terms of both how I should have and shouldn’t have seen this coming. But like I said, for now, I don’t really feel like talking more about it. The thought I’m clutching tightly to right now is that I’ve been in this position before, and I’ve seen the other side of it. Patience is needed in all aspects of running, and this is just another one of those things that needs time.

When I have updates, I’ll post them. For now I’m going back in my cave, protecting the world from the fumes of an angry, sidelined runner.

The Time I Was Almost Attacked By An Owl

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Among the things that unnerve me when I’m out in the dark on a run, wild animals are marginally high on the list. Not so much in the sense that I think I might be attacked by one, but more so that I hate the idea of something popping out at me.

Raccoons, rats, and squirrels…all of them have made me jump at one time or another while on the run. However, it’s more the shock of the scurrying creature* that scares me, not so much that I’m scared of them.

*Bunnies are an exception. I love them all.

However…perhaps I should think twice from now on. A few weeks ago, I came dangerously close to an animal attack, and it was from an animal I had not only never seen in the area…but one that I didn’t even know was interested in threatening humans.

An OWL.

Yes… that beautiful, wise, cooing bird that represents many an ancient symbol and omen gave me the biggest scare on a run I’ve ever had.

Let’s back up. A lot of my runs start off by going down a well-lit, steep, 1/2-mile long hill. It’s always a pleasant way to begin and tricks me every time into thinking the whole run will be easy.

One particular morning, as I started heading down said hill, I glanced up at a light post and saw an OWL perched on top. Cool! A real life, wild owl! I stopped and stared, watched him(her?) gracefully flap over to the light post behind me, and for the briefest of seconds, we made eye contact. How peaceful, right?

I then carried on, probably reveling in the mysticism of my owl sighting, when I saw a shadow coming up behind me. In the moment, I don’t think I realized what it was, but a second later I could see an enormous wingspan out of my peripheral version. I snapped my head up and saw the owl barely 6 inches above me!!! In all one move, I came to a dead stop, yelped, and ducked, which therein caused the owl to retreat and fly up and out of sight.

WTF

My run immediately turned into speed work as I bounded away as fast as possible. Cartoon-like visions of the owl grabbing me in his talons and carrying me into the trees for breakfast were flashing before me, along with other completely rational potential news headlines:

“Runner Loses Eyes in Owl Attack”

“Girl Threatens Pacific Northwest Wildlife, Pays the Price”

“West Seattle Local Disappears, Police Investigate Regional Nests”

In all seriousness, it was horrifying. I’m pretty certain that had I not realized what was happening and screamed a little, the owl would have taken a good peck at my head. I’d never, ever heard of this kind of instance before, but then THIS news story came out (in Seattle mind you), and I felt a little more justified.

So be warned, people. Sometimes it’s not just the street-level threats to worry about in the darker hours, but what’s above too. Also, making eye contact with a predatory bird is probably not the best safety measure.

PSA for the day: Not all owls are like the Winnie the Pooh Owl.

Stay safe and protect your noggins!

Run Birdie Run

…because it's the only way to fly.