In lieu of any suspense-filled build up, I’m just going to get straight to this point.
This happened yesterday:
Now, I know what you are probably thinking…because I was/am still thinking the same thing.
“Um Robyn, haven’t you, like, not run at all since the Tacoma Marathon and been complaining incessantly about your injured IT band?”
Yes and yes. Let’s back track a bit though, and perhaps this will make more sense.
I had come to terms with the whole “injury” thing, and I’d accepted that I needed to focus on r&r as opposed to long runs and fartleks. Kidding, I never do fartleks.
However, despite the fact that I was getting over my boohoo, “woe is me” phase of being injured, that didn’t mean that I wasn’t still on the lookout for anything that could help me start running again.
Which brings me to Friday afternuun. I was in need of some Nuun and went to West Seattle Runner to pick up some new bottles. Also, strawberry lemonade *might* be a new favorite.
While there, I happened to see this little gizmo hanging on the wall with all the other braces and such:
Now, if you’re sitting there with one eyebrow raised full of skepticism, trust me—I was right there with you. I asked the guy working what was up with this thing, and he didn’t say much about it other than, “A guy bought one for his knee pain and he never came back, so that’s good?”
Right. I was mainly skeptical because a) this was perhaps the least technical thing I’d ever seen, and b) in the nonstop research I’d been doing on healing IT band injuries, I’d NEVER seen anyone mention these.
However, thanks to return policies, I decided why not—I’d give it a go. I definitely wasn’t optimistic, but I figured $16 for a velcro strap was worth trying before building up some lovely PT bills. I decided to check online to see if anyone at all had any success with this thing, and much to my surprise—a lot of people had. Amazon’s reviews were full of positive accolades for this strap, which definitely heightened my curiosity.
However, I was still very wary. When you’re injured, it’s easy to get really excited about a potential “cure,” only to be disappointed that it doesn’t immediately alleviate your ailment. I’ve learned this lesson too many times, and I’m very settled with the fact that injuries require patience and time to truly get over.
Fast forward to Saturday: BF and I decided to hike Mt. Si in honor of our four years of couple-hood, and I figured I’d wear the strap for poops and laughs. I wasn’t concerned about the going up part, as that’s not what irritates my IT band/knee. No, the downhill is what worried me—and I knew that this was when I’d be able to tell if the strap had any advantages.
From the top! Washingtonians, you must hike Mt. Si, it’s fantastic.
I had zero pain going up, and as we started going down—I was anticipating the stabbing knee pain to start at any time. I kept waiting, and still…no pain. I could definitely feel the pressure of the strap, but not even a glimmer of the pain I’ve been having for the past 6 weeks. So, in a completely reckless and probably unsmart move, I asked BF if we could try running a bit…just for fun.
Off we went, in hiking boots no less, and still…no pain. This was shocking. Even if I can get away with little knee pain in exercise, going downhill or downstairs will always flare it up. But there was nothing, and the further we went—the bigger my smile became. I love running down trail hills, and it felt so good to be flying down each switchback. We stopped a few times to make sure my knee was cooperating, and still…absolutely no pain. I was shocked and encouraged.
After we finished, I removed the strap, expecting to feel at least some of the familiar knee stiffness, but there was nothing. Aside from some very tired quads, my leg felt completely normal.
Obviously I was excited about this excursion, but I was still very wary. The true test would be how my knee felt the next day, and more importantly—if it worked again.
All through Sunday, and all through yesterday, I felt fantastic and decided last night to really see how this thing fared in some real running.
And you already know the results of that. I was blown away, confused, and mostly super excited. I stopped every two miles to stretch my IT band and check on my knee, and every time I stopped my knee felt completely normal. I admit I got a little ambitious with my pace and my mileage, but I couldn’t help it. I haven’t had a pain free run since before the marathon, and it felt so good to be runningmy familiar route. Not walk-running. Honest to goodness running, the entire way.
I was wiped by the end, understandably, and after finishing and doing some regular post-run stretching and foam rolling, I was still pain-free….and continue to be today.
Now the question becomes… what does this mean?
Well, for starters, while this IT band strap definitely does work—I understand foremost that it’s really just a bandaid. It’s alleviating the symptom of my injury, but it’s not solving the root problem. I’ll still be rolling and stretching regularly, icing, and popping anti-inflammatories. I won’t be stupid or reckless just because I “can” run again. I’ll get back into it slowly and cautiously, and be aware that the goal is to run without the strap at some point.
So, I’m going to be smart. But guess what? It looks like I’m also going to be running!
Who knew that a 1 1/2″ piece of material with velcro could be so effective? Remember, I am speaking solely from my own experience with this thing—I have no professional medical training or education (I know, you’re shocked), so please seek expert advice when considering options for treating this injury.
However, this IT band strap has helped completely reduced the pain in my knee caused by running. It also could be a number of other things—I hadn’t run for over a week when I tried this guy out, I have been consciously rolling and stretching a lot, and I’ve given this thing a while to sort itself out. I don’t know if this strap would have been helpful even two weeks ago, but no matter the combination of why my pain is going away—I’ll take it.
I realize that was an incredibly long-winded way of saying, “I bought a weird strap thing, and it’s working,” but I think you could have figured out that brevity isn’t my specialty 🙂
In other news…this little girl is back in my possession:
MY BABY’S HOME!!
My credit card is also feeling incredibly appreciated.
Things seem to be getting fixed around these parts, and while I’m trying to stay cautious, I can’t help but feel pretty darn hopeful as well.
Have a great day!
SEATTLE PEOPLE! If I organized a group hike (either to Mt. Si or elsewhere) would people be interested? Let me know, and any suggestions are welcomed!
I really feel like I’m saying that a lot more frequently than normal. Again with time dwindling away…
Where does it go?!
Actually, I think I only feel like this because I always posts on Fridays, therefore my forced Friday acknowledgment makes the time seem to go quicker.
That’s my justification.
Hello! Welcome to the end of the week, and another round of “I have too many other things to say there I’m not doing Friday Favorites, AGAIN.”
Sure, I could save up all of my running-related thoughts for posts in the future, but I’m the kind of person who doesn’t necessarily like to wait on the things that are currently going on in my brain. Also, I never “draft” posts—that would be way too productive. I’m sure you thought I spend days ahead of time writing my posts, given their not-at-all rambling and stream of consciousness nature.
Sorry to let you down. I fly by the seat of my pants and often have typos.
So, despite my lack of dedication to Friday Favorites and my fear of the speed of time, I am generally feeling rather cheery today. Superb workout (including RUN!) and my beautiful, tall, law school attending bestie Anna is coming to visit for the weekend.
Friendship! This is actually one of the few “nice” pictures we’ve taken.
Anna and I get along for a number of reasons, but mainly because our friendship takes little effort; it’s easy, it’s fun, and it has no filters. We also enjoy many of the same things, namely being active and food—sometimes in that order, sometimes not. With that said, our weekend will consist of some hiking, some Ikea browsing (also known as people watching, impulse buying, and getting lost), and food consumption.
There, that’s more accurate.
Additionally, I have some pretty exciting endeavors/news in the works. Exciting is relative, meaning it might only be exciting for me, but I am PUMPED for some things going on in the near future. More on that on Monday! Let’s just say I spent the better part (aka: all of) yesterday morning plotting/emailing/texting/Tweeting with Nicole about some pretty sweet and sweaty plans. I love having people that can share in my athletic delusions ambitions.
I’m in this weird balancing act right now of settling into a routine of not running as much, trying new things, and wanting really bad to run again. The thing is, though, it’s becoming just that: a routine. And truthfully? I don’t hate it.
Yes, I love running all the time. Particularly long, salty-sweat face runs that leave me in a heap of endorphin-filled giddiness on the couch, whilst stuffing oatmeal in my face and planning my dessert for the day.
Running is the best. DUH.
But, I have to say I am really digging discovering all of my body’s short-comings and working on them.
Do I have calves that don’t fit into most boots? Yes. Do I have quads that could likely strangle someone? Yes, not a pleasant thought there. But other than that…I’m realizing that I have a lot of room for improvement in terms of my strength, and it’s both humbling and exciting to figure that out.
Case in point: the current state of my rear. It’s sore. It’s been sore since Wednesday. I definitely have not been massaging it in public.
With the exception of some occasional leg lifts, I rarely did any kind of glute work when I was logging heavy miles. This isn’t awesome…considering the strength of your rear muscles and the propensity of getting injured are directly related, but the truth is I never had any interest. I might love a long, exhausting run or a sweat-covered spin bike, but honestly…I actually shy away from things that I know will be hard. Once I am confident in doing something (such as the aforementioned cardio activities) I have no problem hopping right into them…but give me something I’ve never done before and I curl into a ball of stubborn reluctance.
And thanks to my new-found need and interest in testing out my weak points, I’m realizing that being a good athlete isn’t actually about focusing all our energy and attention into the things we’re good at. Sure, if we’re good at something—we want to capitalize on it, but being a good athlete is actually more about finding the areas we need to improve on more than the things we already excel in.
I am so guilty of getting into a place of routine with my workouts. I know they will be fulfilling enough to tide me over, I know that I will get through them no problem, so I’m content with never changing them. Sure, a 10-mile run every Tuesday is a great workout, and it kept me in great running shape, but hand me a pair of hand weights and make me do single-leg lunges? I turn into a crying toddler.
Do you see the imbalance? I think a lot of us do this…and although it’s great that we can excel and be great at certain things, that does not excuse us from making our bodies work hard in other capacities.
Which is a very wordy, roundabout way of bringing back to where I am now. I don’t think at least one of my muscle groups hasn’t been sore in the past two weeks. I’m doing exercises that I have long proclaimed to loathe, simply because they are hard. I’m accepting that not being the best in a class is okay, and I’m letting instructors give me advice.
And I’m loving it. I love being sore, even though it necessitates doing things that are uncomfortable or even painful. I love feeling that there’s a lot of room for improvement, and I love my new mentality of “all-around” fitness as opposed to the one-dimensional cardio focus that I tend to hide in.
This whole way of approaching my physical health hit me right between the eyes this morning when I thought about trying to run. And while I bellyache about not running, and all I seem to think and talk about is when I can run again…I somehow felt reluctant when it was go time. Was it because the walk/run is annoying? No, I’m getting to be okay with it. Was it because the weather was bad? No, no rain.
It’s because I knew it would be hard. Hard, sure, because of my persnickety IT band, but mainly just hard, physically. Even in marathon shape, you can’t go a month with minimal running and expect to just jump back into it effortlessly.
A part of my brain, the newly-developing humbled part, knew this as I went back and forth with the running decision. All of a sudden, my go-to, default mode of exercise has become a little more difficult to force out…and it scared me. It scared me the same way squats and lunges always scare me. It scared me the same way biking scares me, and lifting heavier weights, and trying a new yoga pose scares me.
(Side note: Running is hard no matter what. I am simply speaking as someone who is normally in running shape and is currently out of running.)
Running has become a little more ambiguous than I’m normally used to. That bothers me a little, but I’m happy that running can slowly become a part of the mix of things that I’m working on getting better at. I am fairly confident that once my injury whittles away, my running is going to come back no problem—but for now it’s something I need to challenge myself with. And that’s okay.
What’s my point? I don’t really know…there’s a lot of rambling going on in there.
Ultimately, I think I’m realizing the importance of leaving our comfort zones. You might be able to bust out miles week after week, but are you actually challenging yourself to be better?
I encourage you to look at the fitness safe zones you stick to—and maybe try and step out of them a bit. Improving upon your weak spots isn’t going to take anything away from the things you’re already exceptional at, and in fact—it will probably make you better in them. Whether it’s adding speed work to your training routine (I’m speaking to myself when I say this one) or going to a weight lifting class for the first time—try getting a little uncomfortable.
You’ll be sore, you probably won’t be the best in the class, and you will probably utter many swear words during the process. But you will positively leave in a better space than you started off in. We cannot get better by sticking to the same routines—we plateau, we get bored, and eventually our fitness can actually decline. We get better by pushing our own limits, doing things that are hard, and regularly questioning how we can improve.
What kinds of things do you want to incorporate in your fitness routine? What do you actively avoid, for fear of failure or it being “too hard”?
So I’m not going to lie. Waking up to a Twitter and Google Reader full of “National Run Day!” hoopla stung a bit.
Okay, it stung a lot.
Did you know it was National Run Day? It is. Happy holidays!
As someone who is a lover of every last holiday, including the random, probably-made-up days our country tends to promote, National Run Day is obviously right up my ally. Normally, I would celebrate with a double-digit morning run, in my favorite running outfit, and probably blog all about being in love with running after visiting the local running store to geek-out over miles and gels.
I take my holidays seriously people. And when you give me an “official” day to celebrate running, I will enthusiastically twirl a baton and wave at spectators at the running parade.
However, this year…my celebration plans aren’t exactly going to pan out as I would like.
Honestly, I could run today. My leg is definitely feeling better every day, and after 68 minutes and 7.5 miles of run/walking on Monday, my hopes are much higher for a quick comeback. I have been spacing out my runs with several days in between since I started back up, allowing any soreness or knee kinks to completely evaporate before trying again.
The thing about an IT band injury is that you’re not necessarily making things worse by running on them. Running doesn’t feel too great, that’s for sure, but it’s still do-able. Running with this injury essentially just elongates the healing process, because it tightens the band, therefore straining the knee, and even more icing and stretching is needed.
So, physically, I could run today. My soreness from Monday is nearly gone, there’s good-ish weather, and of course it’s National Run Day!
The question, then, this morning became…should I?
I absolutely hate the thought of being someone who doesn’t pay tribute to their favorite thing on a “national” day of recognition. As pretentious as it might sound, if there are people out there today logging miles thathardly run otherwise, surely I must be out there as well.
I’m a runner, I should be running today, that’s a given. And I can run! (kind of) So why not?
Essentially, I was thinking that it was a dishonor on my part to not run today. Yea yea yea, I know it’s a fake holiday and running any other day wouldn’t be any less fun or sweaty. But, I was still feeling pulled to run. Just to know I did it. Just to know that I am still a runner who can run whensoever she feels.
But then I got to thinking:
“Okay Robyn, is going out and gimping out a few—potentially painful—miles really going to prove you’re a real runner?”
(I don’t really think in third person, just go with it.)
Part of my brain said yes. It said, “Go on! Prove you’re getting back in the game. Prove that even without running for a month, you still have it in you.”
But prove what to who exactly? To running? Because I’m mad at running? Because I’m afraid of running and feel like I have to redeem myself worthy again?
This is when the other part of my brain started to infiltrate my thoughts. The part that is sensible, rational, and dare I say—smarter. She helped me realize that running for the sake of running today wasn’t going to actually help anything. It wasn’t going to send positive recovery vibes to the universe or “prove” to anyone or anything that I am still a runner.
No, all it could possibly do was set me back.
And all at once, my sense of reason took over, and I realized the truth.
If I love running so much, why would I want to run when I shouldn’t be?
If I want to “prove” my love for running, what I really should be doing is the sensible, careful thing…which would be allowing enough recovery, not pushing my limits, and slowly building back my strength. Running now (when I probably shouldn’t be, for no reason other than pride) would only prolong my ability to run in the future that much further.
And do I want that? No.
The best way for me, then, to celebrate National Run Day—a day where running should be given all the love it deserves—is to sit it out. My biggest downfall as a runner, as demonstrated in the Tacoma Marathon, is that I abuse the privilege of running. I can never get enough of it, and instead of treating running with TLC, I play roulette with it and my body—leading to collapses and injuries.
In that regard, I don’t need to “prove” anything in terms of my ability to get up and run. That’s not the hard part for me. The hard part is understanding that running is not something to be careless about, and in fact it needs the same kind of essentials as the rest of us—including some time to step back, lay out, and sip a summer brew.
(Go with my metaphor on this one.)
My point is that run love is not all about logging miles and miles, day after day. That’s a huge part of it, for sure, but run love also includes the times when we know we ought not to run. I know that if I truly want to prove how much I love to run today, I should let other people pound the pavement while I save my body for the time when it really can run again.
If I wanted to wind up in the same self-destructive mindset that led me to my downfall in the Tacoma Marathon, I would go run today. However, I want to be smarter, and I know that if I really want this sport to be in my life for a long time, I need to learn when to back off and be less selfish. Because running today would be the selfish thing to do, and in honor of my unconditional, pure love for running—in an act of selflessness, I’m going to start releasing the reigns.
With all that said, Happy National Run Day! Despite injuries, racing casualties, missing toenails, and an always full laundry hamper—I love this sport so incredibly much. As much as I might have whined in the past month, and as frustrated as I might get about being injured, I still ardently believe that even on the sidelines—nothing can teach us more about ourselves than running. And for that, I am thankful.
Whether you’re running or not today, I hope you show off your run love. Or, if you don’t run, go on and wave at someone who is. I can guarantee they are happy to be doing it…or at least they will be once it’s done 🙂
And mark my words, once fully healed, I will be celebrating my own self-made National Run Day with many happy miles, and anyone who wants to participate is invited.
How are you showing your run love today? How do you show your run love everyday?
Thanks to my good friends at WordPress and their stellar programming math skillz, it has come to my attention that I have reached 100 blog posts.
Woo! Big numbers!
I realize in the blog and internet scheme of things, 100 is minuscule. However, it’s all relative…and for someone like me who really just figured out how Twitter and Facebook work, 100 is big.
In honor of 100 posts, I’ve decided to talk a bit about the things I’ve learned through being a part of this cyber blogging and running world. Some good, some bad, some ugly (see: missing toenails), but overall…I’ve gained a whole lot more than I ever thought possible from being a part of you people, and I’m happy for it.
Let’s hope to it then.
I’ve learned that I’m really not that crazy.
Well, okay, yes I’m that crazy.
However, for a while I thought I was alone. I thought that preferring to run many miles on a Saturday morning over a Friday late night bar crawl made me somewhat of a freak. And sure, maybe it does. But there are other freaks out there! Hooray for unity over hydrating and carbo-loading!
Occasionally, I do love a night out, a day off, and generally just being lazy. But, for the most part, I consider my love of consistently being active and ready to run very unusual, and before having a blog…I barely talked about it with my friends and people I knew. I wasn’t embarrassed, necessarily, but I didn’t want to feel like I was “showing off” or trying to get attention. Because that’s never been what my running’s about. Honestly, I would actually downplay my answers when people asked me how many miles I ran every week or how often I worked out, because I didn’t really feel like explaining myself away to people who just weren’t going to get it.
Not that there’s anything wrong with not getting it. But I was happy letting other people do their thing, while I did mine.
I was kind of a secret runner, I suppose you could say, and with this came a tendency to think of myself as a bit of an outsider.
Joining a community of running addicts like myself has really helped me to realize that I’m not all that strange at all, and in fact—marathon training and hard workouts can be something to be proud of. Sure, I do tend to feel gloaty sometimes and I still tend to shy away from discussing my training with other people…but reading about the running other women my age are doing really makes me feel like I’m part of something other than just my own seclusive habits.
I’ve learned that I really, really love to write.
In reference to the above “lesson” I’ve learned, you might be wondering…if I shy away from talking about training, why would I have a blog where all I talk about is miles and cookies and sweating?
Good question.
I actually started my blog primarily because I love to write. My love of writing has existed for much longer than my love of running, and it’s actually the catalyst for why I started my blog.
I began reading lots of books and articles all about running. I didn’t really realize that this literature on running was out there, and all at once it seemed it was all coming at me like wild fire. I loved it, I couldn’t get enough of it, and it made me want to run and train even more.
It was actually a book about running that really jolted me to run my first marathon. Not to sound like every other American recreational runner-turned-marathoner, but it was Dean Karnazes’ book “Ultramarathon Man” that made me think, “Wait a minute, I can do that!”
Not long after I did my first marathon, I somehow stumbled upon some running blogs. In all honesty, I never used to read blogs, and I kind of thought they were a place where people were more honest about their lives than they were in the real world or on Facebook…which, unfortunately, some people think of as “the real world.”
In a nutshell, I thought blogs were for internet shut-ins who would rather spend time in the virtual world than with their friends or family.
I was wrong.
I started finding blogs of girls who were runners, and they were exactly like me. I felt like I was reading my own writing with some of these blogs, and I found myself coming back to them every day. The more I read…the more I admitted the truth to myself: I wanted to start my own. Because if there’s one thing I love more than writing and running, it’s writing about running.
As you can probably tell at this point, I can get a little metaphysical and deep when it comes to talking about running, I will totally own it.
But it’s who I am…and it’s been through writing that I’ve realized that running is so much more important to me than just calorie burning and leg toning. In fact, when it comes down to it, those things are in last place on the list of reasons why I love running. Having a blog has helped me realize that…and it’s through all the writing and reflections that I’ve done about this sport that I’ve really broken down the true essence of why I love to run.
Additionally, I am convinced that having this blog has helped my professional writing as well. For those of you who don’t already know, I’m a magazine editor by day, meaning a lot of my job requires writing in all different shapes and forms. Articles, reviews, interviews, press releases, newsletters…you name it, I’ve written it. And I’m finding that the writing is coming easier to me than it used to, and I think that has a lot to do with the more fun, quirky ranting I do here.
Practice makes perfect no matter what it is you’re practicing, and writing definitely qualifies in that regard.
I’ve learned that it’s important to step away from our computers.
It’s not that I didn’t really know this before, but I’ve realized recently that while it’s fun and exciting to check in on our blogging friends via Twitter, new posts, Facebook, etc. whenever they have something new to share…it’s also really important to get away from it all as well.
It’s really easy to get super caught up in the on-goings of the virtual world. And why not? We start to feel like we know the people that we follow, and that follow us, so it’s easy to spend our time procrastinating looking for what everyone is up to. This is all fine and well, however I know I can warp myself into a little black hole sometimes by spending too much time staring at my screen’s reality as opposed to living in my own.
I catch myself when I’m out away from my computer and I find myself thinking about something or someone that I only know of because of my internet relationship. This, I am sure, is normal in this day and age, but frankly I don’t like that it takes me away from whatsoever I’m doing, you know, in my real life. I love my internet peeps, don’t get me wrong…but there’s something to be said for getting away from our alternate reality and just being.
It’s the same reason, on a lesser scale, that I like to run without music. Or, how BF and I don’t check our phones when we’re on dates.
Thanks to technology ruling both our working and social lives in the modern world, it is inevitable that we will spend countless hours engrossed in the happenings on a small screen.
This is not how we, as social beings, were meant to live, though.
So be proactive and take some time outs. Everything will be there when you get back, and I promise your Twitter feed is highly more enjoyable when you check it after a weekend as opposed to a couple of minutes.
I have learned that we’re really not alone.
When something good or bad happens, it’s easy to feel we are in a category all our own.
We run our first half marathon faster than we expected? Huzzah! We must be Superwoman.
We get hurt and can’t run for a few weeks? The universe obviously hates us and we were never supposed to be a runner in the first place.
(WTF tense was that? I don’t know. Leaving it. Lazy.)
Here’s the fact of the matter:
If you run your first half, full, or whatever distance faster than you thought…that really is super awesome, and you should consider yourself a Super(wo)man.
If you are hurt and can’t run, that really does suck, and I’m sorry.
But, reality check…there have been and will be many, many, many more people in the same scenario as you. It doesn’t make your accomplishments any less great, or your hardships any less easy, but the fact of the matter is you are far from the first to experience (fill in the blank____), and that’s okay.
Take some comfort in the fact that others can relate to you.
Injured and not sure what to do? The wonderful thing about the internet (and the blogging world) is that there are positively more injured people out there that would love to commiserate with you. They may even be able to help or offer some advice.*
*Take all injury research and advice via the internet with a grain of salt, as you may wind up self-diagnosing leg cancer when you actually have shin splints.
The same idea goes for accomplishments. We should absolutely feel proud of the things we do that we worked hard for and ultimately achieved. Celebrate. Tell everyone. Go nuts.
But, don’t be disappointed when you read ten other stories just like yours. They don’t take anything away from you, and they don’t make what you did any less spectacular…they are simply a reflection that other people want to do cool things too. Instead, you should celebrate with those people. A party is much more fun when there’s lots of folks involved, so just as other people root for you and encourage you in your training endeavors…pay it forward, and join in on the virtual cheer-leading brigade.
On that same note. Let other people inspire you! I know that while I might be envious of girls my age who have already run Boston-qualifying times or competed in Ironman races, I can turn my jealousy into fuel. These stories inspire me to reach further, dig deeper, and I love getting new ideas for races or training plans from the bloggers I admire and who inspire me.
I’ve learned that following the training and racing of other people can be just as fun as doing it yourself.
I never, ever, thought I would be someone who regularly followed blogs or commented on the ramblings of other people. The extent of my internet exploration ended with Facebook and Gmail, and everything else was for people who were much more tech-savvy and social media smart.
Now, I’m still not tech savvy, nor too skilled at hash-tagging or making YouTube videos, however…I know that something I look forward to each day is reading up on the trials, tribulations, and sweat of the lady runners I follow. (Really wanted that list to be alliterative, dang.) I think it’s really exciting to watch someone’s progression from a 5k runner to a marathoner, or a marathoner to an ultra-marathoner.
No matter the level, I love to read about people who run. Running is the underlying thread that unites us all, and despite the different locations, interests, and ages, I love that the running blogging community is held together through the pure love of putting one foot in front of the other.
My favorite thing about running is the simplicity of it. It’s primal, it’s natural, and it’s the way we were meant to get around. People who write about running get this, and I love connecting, if even just through a comment box, with others who understand the need to run.
So there you have it. Some things I’ve learned through writing about running and a bit of my blogging story thrown in there as well.
After 100 posts, countless miles, injuries, races, comments, tweets, meet-ups, emails, etc. I want to say THANK YOUto every single one of my readers. Your words and feedback make this space so enjoyable and fun for me, and I appreciate all the advice, laughs, and random tidbits you share with me. I’m looking forward to much more writing, running, and reading with you—all with a heaping spoonful of cookie dough and a Nuun-filled water bottle on the side.
Greetings friends, strangers, and family members who lovingly check in on my life.
How’s it going?
It’s JUNE. How did that happen?! I seriously feel like I was just bundling up every day and cranking my heater on a regular basis. Spring flew by, and while I know each year everyone seems to talk about how fast the time goes, for real this year seems even speedier. I’m just hoping this isn’t a sign of getting older…24 is ripe, I’ll tell you.
But let’s celebrate the time instead of commiserate its passing, shall we?
Plus, I have THINGS TO TELL YOU.
Friday Faves (obvs), AND I have some encouraging news. It’s not exclamation point encouraging, but exciting nonetheless.
;
I RAN. Well, ran-walked. And unlike Sunday’s fail of a walk-run attempt, I can confidently say that this excursion went well! Let’s back track a bit though and do a little lack-of-running recap.
Since doomsdaythe Tacoma Marathon, I haven’t been running at all. I tried a few times, realized very quickly that my IT band is shot, and since then I’ve been desperately trying to massage and ice and exorcise the stubborn demons out of my leg. It has been a month, which is pretty hard to believe—since it seems like only a little bit ago I felt fully recovered. Pathetic.
And no, I haven’t really been performing exorcisms on body parts. Yet.
Anyway, I have been sad, you have heard a lot about it, I have become a grumpy injured runner, etc. Whine whine whine.
Despite being peeved at anyone and everyone with fully-functioning legs, I actually have been more okay with this running leave-of-absence than I thought. After getting myself back together after that race, I realized that taking a step back was probably just what I needed. Although I’m sad it took an injury to fully solidify my “rest period,” the timing is without question the universe telling me to slow down. And slowing I have been.
Cue, Wednesday afternoon. I wanted to try walk/running again. I was/am tired of being inside on a spin bike while everyone in the entire world is out running.
(By the way, when you all of a sudden can’t run, every single person and their puppy seems to start running.)
It only took about 2 minutes in for my knee to seize in that all-too-familiar way, and so I started to walk, per run/walk standard procedure. After a minute, I started to run again, and after another two minutes…I realized my knee felt better. Not great, but not bad. While I am always hoping that one day I’ll wake up and the running gods will have waved their wands (the Stick) and made my ailments completely go away, at this point…I’ll take what I can get.
And guess what? I was out on my favorite route for 45 minutes!! 32 of which were running, and the others were spent stretching/walking. I didn’t even really care that I was having to walk at some points when I otherwise would have been flying by other people. It felt so good to be outside, by the water, and actually sweating from running. I know I had a big smile on my face the whole time, and I felt better after each spurt of running.
;
;
It would be a lie to say that my knee didn’t hurt afterwards, because it did. However, although the running is bringing on the IT band flare, it doesn’t seem to be making it worse, does that make sense? As in, the pain is there…but it’s not getting any more significant through movement.
The next day, I was sore but still pleased that for the first time in a month, I can say that I covered over 4.5 miles.
You cannot see my sweat, but it’s there!! And it’s from running!!
YAY
I’m going to try again perhaps Sunday, and with any luck this next attempt will be even better. Wednesday’s run was the first time I’ve actually felt hopeful about my running endeavors in a while, and that’s a good feeling.
ALSO. In other news regarding feeling like a runner…remember back when how I told you about my two dead toenails holding on for dear life? Yes, well, they have been hanging around, black and beautiful. I figured since I haven’t been running, they would calm themselves down and return to a semi-normal look.
So I go to cut my toenails last night, and I realize that one of my black nails is COMING OFF. Like, I could easily pick it up.
I’ll spare you details, you get it, but I am officially toenail-less. Which is nasty, no doubt, but it’s also a friendly little reminder that I am, in fact, a runner…injury or not.
Moving on…let’s get onto some Friday favorites eh? I’ve been slacking recently, sorry, but I’m back and ready to deliver the goods. And by “goods,” I mean “random shit that I like that I’m going to tell you about because this is my blog and you are reading it.”
It’s fine.
Christian The Lion
If you have not seen this video, STOP what you are doing, no I don’t care if your boss can see, and watch this video. It is almost certain that everyone has seen it, but if not…you will not be disappointed.
This never fails to bring a smile to my face and actual tears to my eyes. I don’t cry from movies people, ever. But this is perfect. Animals really have the whole unconditional love thing figured out…if only we could catch on.
How much do you want to hug a lion after watching this? Also, Whitney is crucial to building the anticipation.
(Side note: When I say I don’t cry in movies, I’m really not kidding. However I need to inform you that no matter how immune to tv/movie crying you may be, if you watch the Glee season finale from this year while on a foam roller you WILL burst into heavy uncontrollable tears. Seriously, SOBS.)
Dixie Cup Ice Massages
Every runner should know about this contraption. Oh wait, I was the only runner who wasn’t doing it? Dang.
BUT I have made a few discoveries regarding the usefulness of freezing a Dixie cup full of water.
1) The functionality of icing your leg is highly improved by using this method as opposed to holding individual ice cubes and pointlessly running them along your leg.
2) This shit hurts. Due to increased grippage (thanks Dixie people), you can really dig into your muscles with this baby. Ice AND massage= two for one special! The concentration of a huge hunk of ice on a knotty IT band yields a good deal of pain, and with enough effort, this can be as brutal as the foam roller.
*Question for anyone who has done this…is it normal for me to be sore the next day from doing this last night?? I think I might be bruising.
Pink Lady Apples
I cannot believe I haven’t done this one before, but I actually don’t think this favorite has been on my list.
I can safely say that I eat an apple every single day. I love them, they are easily transportable, and they accent other things so well. With that said, I have made the rounds in terms of trying all different kinds of apples.
My key components are: crispiness, tartness, and size.
I love me a huge apple, which often times dictates which ones I pick up. Also lucky I live in WA, where the big apples are ample.
Through all my experimentation, Pink Lady apples are the winners in terms of consistency and appeasing all my apple must-haves. The are always hard, tart with a subtle sweetness, and they are generally big.
Galas and honeycrisps suffice when my favorite PLs are absent, but otherwise I will be a Pink Lady lover for life.
Bridesmaids
I know, I know. Old news, everyone has already ranted and quoted on and on about this movie.
Don’t care, it’s on the favorites.
This movie gets funnier every time I watch it, and so far I haven’t gotten sick of quoting or rewatching it. There are SO many funny things that aren’t even that obvious at first, and I credit it to the brilliance of Kristin Wiig and the probable ad-libbing that went on. Megan is obviously the best character, with Annie’s (K. Wiig) female roommate as a close second.
This is not going to be interesting whatsoever, but in case you are as obsessed as me and can identify these nuances, I’ll share some of my favorite lines which frequently make their way into my daily vocabulary. If you’re over this movie, just go ahead and skip ahead:
“Oh that’s prickly.”
“I’m glad he’s single cause I’m gonna climb that like a tree.”
“No it’s not… me.”
“Yea oh shit. Yea oh shit.”
“I’m just gonna snowball off of that and say Fight Club. Female Fight Club.”
“Well only because I’ve never had a drink!”
OK. Done.
National Food Holidays
I love food. I love when everyone else loves food, too. I don’t always participate, admittedly, but I think it’s a hoot when everyone’s all of a sudden buying grilled cheeses or cupcakes or eating peanut butter by the spoonful—which is super fun, any day of the year.
With that said…
Today is National Doughnut Day.
Celebrate accordingly.
I don’t really need an excuse for most things, but doughnuts are something I rarely have…so why not today, right?
PLAY WITH ME! What are your favorite things? What kind of apples do you like? Favorite Bridesmaids lines? Is my post-ice massage soreness kosher? Are you kosher? Is anyone really kosher? I’m done I’m done.
If you couldn’t tell from my oh-so-clever play on words post title, I’d like to talk about a whole new type of endurance animal, in the form of swim, bike, run.
Triathlons
Now, running has and will always be my first love—I bestowed it with soul mate status in my Valentine’s Day post, in fact.
However, as I’ve mentioned before, I do have some devotion to other sweat-enducing activities, namely—spinning and swimming. I like these two things because they are great supplements to running, as in great cross training, but I also like them because on their own—they’re a whole new physical challenge.
I feel like running gets all the credit sometimes as the most effective way to test and improve your fitness. I admit, I am totally guilty of doing this, because there’s no workout I prefer more than a long run. However, I really don’t think that biking and swimming should be given the shaft so quickly—because these can both be just as, if not more, effective in terms of boosting endurance strength.
Yes I just said that.
But, as someone who is currently out of the running game and needing to push herself otherwise, I’m finding a greater respect for these alternatives. Seriously though. If you haven’t swam laps since you first learned to swim back when you were a kid, I challenge you to get in the pool and knock out some freestyle. I think you will be amazed just how tired you get, even if your running strength is superb.
The other reason I’m a big proponent of these cross training activities is because they help our muscles recuperate from the wear and tear of running. Fact: running is not very good for your joints. Dean Karnazes and all you other freaks who never get injured and have perfect, unbreakable running genes—screw you. These specimens are rare. For the rest of us, running is a constant game of working hard, training hard, and all the while avoiding injury. If there were some magic pill that made running impact-less and perfectly healthy, I’d be first in line at the doctor begging for my prescription. But, that’s not the case—which is one the reasons I’ve steered my marathon brain slightly in the direction of multi-sport events.
As of right now, I am still planning on at least two half marathons and one full this year. One of the halfs is in question with my current asshole of a leg, but otherwise I’m all set for this running schedule. I’m probably definitely going to add more, let’s be honest, I just need to pull some triggers. And by “pull some triggers” I mean “get more paychecks.”
But anyways.
While I love running training, I am also getting more and more interested in adding some additional challenge into the mix, in the form of triathlons.
Fun fact: I actually did three sprint triathlons long before even considering a running race. They were back in high school, when I somehow magically just whipped out these events despite never doing any of the activities, and they were definitely fun. So, I’m thinking for a starting point—I’m going to register for a sprint tri near the end of the summer (cough Nicole Danskin cough). I should probably put a bit more thought into this, but the fact is that I swim, “bike,” and run enough to where a sprint tri should really be no problem. However, like I said—it’s a starting point.
Now, this is still under some consideration, but as of right now—I am planning on signing up for a half Ironman next summer.
Yikes, just said it. Scary.
I know that the training is hard, but I know it’s exactly the kind of new challenge I’m looking for. I love the idea of block workouts (consisting of two endurance-related activities) and learning how to balance my energy over a long period of time. Additionally, I feel like this will keep my love for running alive and well by mixing up back-to-back marathon training cycles with something different.
Ultimately, I want to reach for something higher. Crazy, indeed, after my brush with casualty in the marathon two weeks ago, but this is honestly the way I operate. Yes, I got knocked down, but I know when I get up again (meaning, fully functioning IT band and absolved fear of running on hills) I am going to be stronger, smarter, and more anxious to challenge myself.
The thing I’ve taken away more than anything from that ill-fated race is that the brain and the body must always work in harmony; even when they’re fighting with one another, battling over pain versus persistence, we must know each of them well enough to know which to listen to. This is something I had lost touch with—and for the first time in my life, my mental game outweighed my physical capabilities. It’s one of the hardest parts of being an athlete, and it’s something I’m looking forward to exercising (pun intended) in my future endurance endeavors.
Oh, and I also took away the fact that I was a cocky little shit and the marathon is really, really, hard…no matter how well your first (or many) may have gone.
So there you have it Internet. This birdie is slotting July 2013 as the month of her first half Ironman, with some warm-up tris beforehand. I’ll write more on my approach to this endeavor when it’s not over a year away, but for now I’m excited to have something different on the horizon. And in the meantime, I’m looking forward to running soon.
Rest, rolling, ice, and froyo people—and your IT band will slowly but surely start to like you again.
Fingers crossed 🙂
Have you ever done a tri? Do you think there’s a difference between tri-people and marathon-people? Do you think I should probably go and buy that road bike already? Yea, me too.
I’m going to be straight and tell you I had an especially peppy and optimistic post planned for today, however that plan has derailed a bit. There will still be pep, and maybe even some pizzazz, but for now I am allowing myself 60 seconds of bitching. After that, I’ll be done…but I need to shake some anger, so be warned.
After the hardest race ever, and after VERY CAREFULLY resting and recuperating my IT band has decided to be a huge a-hole and all of a sudden develop ITBS in the form of bad knee pain. I can’t really run, I hate it, and it’s ALL I WANT TO DO. I currently want to throw rocks at everyone that can run in the perfect, ideal, OMG SO PRETTY Seattle sunshine, and I get jealous even seeing people in running clothes.
Dramatic? Yes. I know I ran a marathon only 8 days ago, and some pain may be lingering. However, I am currently void of all residual race soreness and aches, and I’m unfortunately thinking that I’ve got a pissed-off IT band that’s here to stay for a while. AND running is literally the only thing that bothers it. Spinning? No problem. Swimming? Piece of cake. But one mile into a run, I’m crippled with knee pain and I have to turn around. I’m pissed, I’m trying to be hopeful, but I would really enjoy going at least a few months without a new injury. DAMN YOU running shoes/form/gods/whatever that is ailing me with issues.
Okay, done.
Can you tell how my morning started out? Yup…a solid 18 minute run in which more than half was spent walk/running. This was the first time I’ve attempted running since last Thursday(when I first felt the pain), and until this morning I have had no knee pain whatsoever. Booooooo.
Sorry, sort of went back to bitching there. Anyways, this is definitely a marathon-ripe injury and completely new to me. Anyone have ITB syndrome issues before? Care to share on your experiences/remedies? My foam roller has been feeling some hot lovin’ these past few days, but otherwise I’m not totally sure how to tackle this.
How about some happiness now?
Great.
I spent the weekend basking in the sun. Literally, that’s about all I did…and it was splendid. My skin doesn’t necessarily agree with the whole “splendid” part, but it will get over it once it cools off and accepts its new glow as opposed to its wintertime pasty horror.
After a double-spin class(my favorite!) on Saturday morning, there were few things I did the rest of the day that did not involve drinking a cold beverage, lying on the beach, reading a book, or eating. I wore a dress and everything. Part was spent with friends, part was spent alone, it was all-around a grand ole time.
Also, if you weren’t aware, the Lakers beat the Nuggets in GAME 7 on Saturday night, and while BF hated me for a while during the game, it was awesome and I will be reaping the bragging benefits for an indefinite period of time.
The sweet taste of victory is even better than a HUGE scoop of ice cream, which also happened this weekend.
Sunday was also spent in the sun, on a canoe! A good friend of mine works at a sleep-away YMCA camp, and she has access to Puget Sound boating galore. In celebration of her birthday, some of us took a massive “tribal” canoe to a tiny island out in the San Juans. Porpoise and bald eagle sightings, beer-on-board, and sunshine—I was one happy camper. And not to mention the scenery was absolutely fantastic.
Mountains and sea, I love you. Yes, this photo needed to be HUGE.
The paddling was about an hour each way, and my back is feeeeeeling it today. I love doing things that are out-of-the-ordinary, and yesterday was one of my favorite days in a long time.
On my drive to the canoe ride, I was traversing along the exact path of about miles 20-24 of the marathon from last week, and just seeing the path made my shudder. I feel like I might develop some PTSD from that race—like seriously—and while I cursed every last hill and turn while running the actual race, I can’t help but want redemption.
In due time though…all I want now is to run. Particularly, I want to do a long run; I’m already ready to rekindle my Saturday morning routine of sweaty miles, but for now…given the whole IT band asshole thing…I’ll settle for baby steps.
Drinking via your medal’s bottle opener counts for redemption, right? Or rebellion perhaps? TACOMA WHY DO YOU HATE ME?
I’m thankful that I can do the other things I enjoy in terms of exercise, and I’m certain—as always—that once this hiccup goes away it will make running all the more sweeter. Because at this point, the only thing that sounds sweeter than running is a pound or two of strawberry shortcake, which will likely happen once or ten times this week.
Now….Tell me what you did in the sun this weekend! Seattle friends, I know you all got your sun-on for sure. And if not, WHO ARE YOU?! Go away. Also, does anyone have advice for post-race IT band issues? Or just ITBS ailments in general?
It’s Friday already? I mean, awesome, but this week has flown by—which is odd, because I feel like I’ve been moving at a sloth-like pace through it.
Anyways, welcome to the end of the week!
Here is a picture of an adorable panda to get us off on the right foot:
PANDA DON’T BE SO SAD! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO GET DOWN!?! I WILL HELP YOU! I LOVE YOU!
It has been too long since I included some cuteness in my posts. The shame!
I know I always do Friday Favorites, and I know I’ve been skipping out on it recently in favor of being thankful and talking about existential running jargon, and I PROMISE I’ll start faves again soon….but not this week. Sorry, I know you’re day is probably ruined.
I just have too many other things to say! And since I have limited blogging time availabile…I need to squeeze things in when I can.
So, we all know by now that my race on Sunday went differently than I anticipated. (And if you don’t know, check it out here, because I know your curiosity must be ON FIRE right now). Can you tell I’m caffeinated? I am.
Anyways, there has been a lot of post-race reflecting, pondering, and Nutella consumption going on around these parts, and while I am not ready to dismiss the seriousness of what happened by any means, I am literally unable to not try and find the silver lining and move forward. Eternal optimist—I can’t help it, and I am a big believer that all experience is good experience, even when that experience involves the inability for the nerves in my brain to signal my legs to move.
With that said, I’d like to share with you some of the things I’ve learned from this whole ordeal. Truly, the big lessons will probably take a little while to fully emancipate, however I do feel like I’m squeezing all of the personal-growth juice I can from all this.
Ew, sorry, “juice” should not be used to describe anything other than something that comes from a fruit.
You get it though.
So…let’s get a move on. Here are some things I’ve learned, both big and small, through the race that quite literally swept me off my feet (and not in a Ryan Gosling dream sequence kind of way).
-I have “awesome” veins.
After I was removed from the ice bath and my temperature was going down, the nurses/doctors were helping to stop my muscle cramping by using a lot of compression on all my limbs. One of the women behind me was all, “Wow, you have awesome veins!” and although this could mean a) I am easy to stick with a needle b)she was being nice about the spider veins all over my body or c)both, at the time I took it as a compliment.
I might have “awesome veins,” but the lady doc doesn’t really have “awesome IV sticking abilities.” I also have “awesome bruising skills.”
– The pacer stick is not very heavy at all.
One of the things I have always been SUPER impressed by in terms of the people who pace a race (besides the fact, obviously, that they are guaranteeing a certain finish time over 26 or 13 miles) is that they are CARRYING something while running. I can barely handle carrying a handheld water bottle, and I get stressed thinking about carrying anything more than a few gels and my own body weight. You can imagine my horror, then, when the 3:40 pacer (mustache man, if you remember) asked me to hold the pace stick while he went pee in the woods.
Him: “Hey can you hold this for a bit?”
My Brain: “WTF WHO DO YOU THINK I AM I HAVE ONLY RUN ONE MARATHON I HATE YOU!”
Me: “Totally, no problem.”
Surprise! It’s really light, and actually very manageable to run with. And despite my momentary panic, I decided that his decision to offer ME the carrying stick actually translated into:
“You’re such a super star runner, Robyn. My mustache and I respect you and your flawless form and I have no doubt you could take over my pacer job. In fact, you should be a pacer yourself.”
That’s exactly what he thought, and despite the fact that his mind *might* have changed when he saw me being cradled like an infant by the Medical Director, I still think we have an everlasting bond through our 3 minutes of a pace-stick exchange.
BFF photo
– Knowing your target HR=helpful when running a marathon
I’ve said this before, but I don’t own a Garmin. I was always very happy with my little blue Timex, and I actually enjoyed the added freedom of not knowing exactly how far I had gone on a run or how fast I was going. I liked calculating these things afterward instead—meaning that while I can claim to be a “pure” runner while actually out on a run, I do still really care about distance and pace. Something I am not able to calculate too easily without an electronic device is my heart rate, and I believe this knowledge would have been a good indication of how over my limit I was on Sunday.
So, I’m giving in: For both my safety (and the fact that I really, really want one) I’m going to invest in a Garmin, finally. Having one doesn’t mean I need to wear it on every run I go on, however knowing my ideal HR on long runs will help me avoid the situation I got into.
In that regard…suggestions? I just want pace, distance, HR, and a light…for when it’s dark.
– Always have someone you know with you at a race
Certainly, everyone wants supporters to cheer them on at a race—it’s so motivating to know that you have friends, family, or pets out there on the course or finish line, gunning for you to run a stellar race. However, as I have discovered, it is almost equally if not more important to have people there for the bad things that can happen along with the good.
If you remember, I came *this* close to running the Eugene Marathon (and yes I am totally, 100% okay with the fact that I didn’t run the flat, fast course instead of Hill Town Tacompton, clearly). BUT had I run Eugene, I would have been there completely solo, as BF wouldn’t have been able to come, meaning that if something like this would have happened, I wouldn’t have had anyone I knew on the sidelines. No one to drive me home, no one to be there in the medical tent, and no one to report to my family that everything was okay.
When I was coming out of my overheated delirium, all I wanted was for BF to come and be with me, and I can’t imagine how much scarier that situation would have been without someone I knew present.
So sure, I definitely love having people there to cheer me on, but I know now just how important it is to have someone there for a worst-case scenario as well.
Thanks for coming see me “finish” a marathon Corey, you’re the best sister.
– There is such a thing as “marathon peeing”
YOU GUYS, this happened. I couldn’t believe it, and I’m still having a hard time thinking back to it all, but for reals—around mile 22, there I was…a self-sufficient, mature(ish) 24-year-old, peeing my pants on the run.
Now, if you haven’t heard of this before, please don’t click out of my blog out of disgust and shock—because truly, I had no idea I was capable of this. I knew that people did it…instead of stopping at the porta potties, they just straight peed their pants, but I always assumed this was people who had itty bitty bladders and were going for a world record. I NEVER have to pee when I run, but somehow my ample mid-race hydration caught up to me…and there it was.
I was in my cloudy “Make it stop” state when it happened, so it didn’t really register at the time, but when one of the doctors afterward asked me, “When was the last time you peed?” I started cracking up and said, “On the course!” which I thought was absolutely hilarious. At this point, I still had a 105 degree fever, which probably aided my light-headed humor, but now thinking back…it is hilarious, and clearly I have no shame.
Luckily, an ice bath quickly cleanses peed-in shorts, so wearing my shorts afterward wasn’t entirely unbearable.
SEXY. That’s why you date me BF, isn’t it? Cause I’m so “Not so fresh and not so clean clean.”
– After a marathon, your body declares full autonomy over you.
Yes, we should always listen to our bodies. And yes, I hardly practice what I preach in this regard, but when it comes to the week after a marathon, we hardly have a choice.
Every action I’ve been taking this week has been dictated by my body, and anything too difficult for it is quickly stopped in its tracks. I’m able to swim and spin no problem, and both are adding some really helpful blood flow…however running, not so much.
I felt good enough yesterday afternoon to (very slowly) try out my post-marathon legs. So while I said, “Yes! Let’s run!” my body quickly replied with “NOT!” in a very in-your-face Borat kind of way.
After about a quarter mile, my right knee/IT band/fibula/etc started getting really tight, and it was not having it. BF and I were “running” together at the time, and I had to tell him to go on ahead while I waited with a pissed off leg (Not to be confused with a “pissed on” leg, which I also know about…see above). Fortunately, he is a kind soul and quickly returned to walk back to our starting point with me, and I am going to wait a few more days until trying to run again.
I admit that I quickly panicked that I have some long-term injury that will disable me from running the entire summer (rationality is my strong suit), however I know that you cannot trust any post-marathon pains until the race wear and tear eventually works its way out. Truthfully, I think my muscles are just still really recovering, and my foremost goal right now is to listen my body above all else.
Sorry ladies, you’ll have to wait.
And with that said…
– It is okay to back off.
This is perhaps the biggest understanding I’ve reached so far in the reflection I’ve done over this race. I know it is definitely going to take a while to really internalize it, because it completely contradicts the way my brain works—but it’s something I know will make me a much smarter athlete and runner.
My problem during the race (and I suppose in my day-to-day life) is that I refuse to let myself back off from not trying my very hardest. For better or for worse, I hate thinking of myself as someone who doesn’t give their absolute best—because that’s the way I always like to operate. It’s the reason why I love always having a hard, satisfying workout, why I don’t like taking days off, and why I got myself into the circumstances leading up to my collapse on Sunday. I thrive on pushing myself, on knowing that I worked hard, and it’s the way I have and will probably always choose to operate on a daily basis.
Most of the time, this is a good thing. It’s good as a runner, an employee, and just for general productivity. However, as is always the case, it is possible for there to be too much of a good thing. Case in point, the Tacoma Marathon.
So, I suppose what I’m mostly realizing is that I don’t need to worry about my mental stamina. I think I’m always worried that I’ll slip in the average, lazy-person mindset of only half-assing things and searching for ways to not give me all. This fear is part of what drives me to always give my best, which is good, however I’m realizing that I’m not a person who will ever not be competitive, not be strong-willed, or not be anxious to do my best. In that regard, it will actually be more helpful for me to realize how to dial back, as opposed to giving more.
I know now that I don’t really have an issue with trying my hardest, and in fact it will be braver and more trying of my natural instincts to tone down my workouts and my do-or-die mentality. Of course I want to keep working and training hard, but something I really want to start to internalize is that for me—the greater way of challenging myself is finding a better balance. This means a rest day, every single week, even when I’d rather not and knowing when I’m on a run or in a race when I need to forego being a winner for the sake of being safe.
Part of being an athlete is understanding both the value of recovery and the value of hard work. I have been very one-sided when it comes to achieving this balance, and it reached a breaking point when I ignored my body’s warning signs for the sake of a certain finish time.
So, to make an already long story short, I have learned that being more cautious and offering my body more rest is ultimately going to make me a better athlete, and I’m happy to have a new kind of challenge ahead of me.
Have a great weekend all you lovely people out there! Thanks for following my meaning-of-life journey post-marathon, and I hope that if nothing else, I’ve offered a bit of insight into how pushing through pain only goes so far, and sometimes the harder, gutsier decision is knowing when to stop instead of go.
Tell me some marathon lessons you’ve learned! The good, the bad, and the pee-your-pants kind. You’re welcome internet for knowing about that now. Have you ever done that? Please tell me so I don’t feel like a toddler/old person. What are your Garmin suggestions? What are you doing this weekend? Will you help me save that panda from his tree? SOMEONE PLEASE HELP THAT PANDA.
Slowly but surely (emphasis on the slowly, namely my walking speed), I am returning back to normal since the *excitement* from Sunday. I have done a little yoga, a little swimming, a lot of sleeping, a lot of horrific foam rolling, and drowned myself in frozen yogurt—all of which are helping to cleanse away the fear and the beating endured in the race.
A BIG thanks to those of you who’ve offered your support, condolences, and general affirmation after reading my lengthy race recap. I truly appreciate your kind words and happy thoughts.
There are many things that have been going on through my head since Sunday, and I think I have started to unwind from the pure shock of it all into some more grounded, realistic thoughts. However, I am still quite askew in terms of my rationalization of the whole thing, and while there are a number of words I could use to describe my current state of mind regarding running, marathons, etc., I think the one prevailing thing I’m feeling is frustration.
Now, before I dive into the specifics of this frustration, let me first say that I realize there are many different opinions on how I decided to run my race on Sunday. I have heard everything from ballsy and inspiring to reckless and stupid (I believe the phrase”psych exam” was in there somewhere), and I want to say that you are entirely entitled to your own opinion.
Personally, in terms of how I view it all, I think that I fall somewhere in the middle. On one hand, I know that I should have never put myself in that kind of danger, and I’m mad at myself for scaring my loved ones and myself by not realizing I’d reached my limit. On the other hand, and I say this with marginal reluctance, but the truth is—I can’t say that I would have run that race any other way. For better or for worse, my mind was stronger than my body on Sunday, and while I will absolutely need to keep this in check, I am also not surprised it happened.
It might be stubbornness, it might be idiocy, it might be determination, or it might be an alternative chromosome—no matter how you characterize my mindset during this race, all I know is that it is 100% who I am as a runner, an athlete, and a person. Which is part of the reason this race has left me feeling frustrated, among other things, and I’m having a hard time trying to reconfigure how to prioritize my goals from here on out.
Part of me wants to run for fun for the rest of the year; just running without regimin or goal time in mind—simply for the love of it. The other part wants to run so many marathons that I’m able to drown out the memory of what happened in Tacoma. I am certain I will land somewhere in the middle eventually. Frankly, I don’t like that a sport I love so much and a sport I hold in such high regard chopped me to pieces so quickly. I spent months preparing to run this marathon—I was ready for it, I was both mentally and physically chomping at the bit to do well, and in 3 hours and 44 minutes it punched those months of hard work right in the face. Well, in the IT band, the hamstrings, the quads, and the calves—to be more specific. It was my own fault, I know that, but at the same time I feel like I was cheated by the laws of all marathon running and general athletic endeavors.
Allow me to explain: Every single sports mantra, coach, PE poster, whatever will tell you, “Pain is weakness leaving to body,” “You’re stronger than you think you are,” and “To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift” (yes, I needed to include Pre). Since a very early age, we’ve heard all these mantras, and we’ve been told to believe that our bodies are much stronger than our mind allows them to be. Unfortunately, I internalized these ideas too much on Sunday—and I crossed over the line of my physical potential to my physical limitations.
The entire time I was running, particularly when it started to get really difficult, I told myself all these “mind over matter” sayings—I convinced myself that of course it was hard, it’s a marathon! I thought that the pain I was experiencing was the kind that everyone feels, and all I had to do was push it further—because I was stronger than any mental downfall or shortcoming. I knew I was in good enough shape to run a marathon, in fact I was in better shape than I was for my first 26.2, so the pain I was feeling must have been due to the hills and the speed—not to my own physical deficiency.
I realize how prideful this sounds, and it absolutely is, but more than anything it’s my obscene competitive nature. I am competitive with others, have no doubt, but my most fiery, ruthless competitive drive is with myself and my own goals. So despite knowing I was in more pain than I should have been, and despite knowing that running an 8:10 pace over 26 hilly miles was incredibly ambitious, I could not let up holding myself up to my highest standard.
I knew qualifying for Boston on this course was going to be miraculous. I said this to BF, to my family, and I thought that I knew it myself. However, I also knew, in the murky, victory-craving corners of my brain that it was still possible. I knew that if I had ideal conditions, perfect taper, and a little bit of race magic—I would be able to pull it off, even on a hard course. And…I suppose this was accurate, because had I not literally fallen at mile 26, there is a very good chance I would have qualified. However, instead of letting my training, the course, and the miracle come to me…I forced it, and that was my mistake.
I should have realized earlier in the race that should I qualify, the factors leading up to it wouldn’t be entirely in my control. Because despite how much we’d like to think it, miracle races (as BQing in Tacoma would have been) require a little something more than all the training and preparation we put into them. They require that certain race day magic that lights us up when we need it, and it’s somewhat intangible and undefinable. Unfortunately, I decided to forego the whole “let it come to you” notion and instead decided to make my own miracle happen. Once the image of myself crossing the finish line under a 3:35:59 clock got locked in my head, I couldn’t let it go—even though when I started feeling the wall around mile 19, I should have.
So instead of obeying the rules of “the wall,” something I had never before experienced, I decided to try and run right through it…and then when that didn’t work, I backed up and ran right back into it, over and over again. The funny thing though about walls is that they don’t move, and all that endless beating against my own wall ended up withdrawing every ounce of strength I had in me. I am sure that had I backed up my pace even a tiny bit, all the conditioning I knew I had within me would have regained a bit of control and I would have finished the race in a great time. I couldn’t accept “a great time” though, because I was chasing the 3:35 beast the entire race, and despite all the fire and poison it was spitting at me, I was determined to pin it down.
So, what do I take from all this? Well, there are many things—but more than anything, I think I have learned that on Sunday, my mental conditioning was stronger than my physical conditioning. So often our brains tell us to stop while our bodies have the ability to keep going—however, I experienced the opposite. I didn’t listen to my body, I brushed off my pain as durable, and eventually my mental stamina outlasted my body to the point where my body decided to no longer function.
There is, furthermore, a line between pushing to your limits and exceeding your limits—and this is something I had never really realized or grasped before. I’ll admit I’m a bit confused and worried about the line dividing “far” and “too far,” because up until Sunday, I believed we were capable of anything we set our minds too. Which I still believe…but now to a certain degree. I suppose what I will need to work on more than anything is listening to my body as opposed to pushing myself solely on brain determination.
At this point, I know I have the mental strength to get through a marathon…perhaps too much, and that is something I can still count on the drive me when the going gets tough. However, I am now going to have to work on deciphering between working to my full potential and working beyond my capabilities. Because, yes, I do have limitations…and despite the fact that my self-righteous subconscious would scoff at such a statement, it is the truth—as it is for everyone.
So where does that leave me? Well, I am going to continue to recover, reflect, and eventually I’ll get brave enough to put on my iPod and lace up my shoes. I’m actually still unable to listen to any of the songs I listened to on race day, and even seeing the clothes I wore gives me a bit of a shudder. No doubt, full recovery from this marathon—particularly the metal part—is going to take a while. However, I never shy away from an opportunity for self-improvement, and I’m happy to accept all the humility and re-prioritization it takes to get myself back in the swing of things.
I realize this post was rather stream-of-consciousness and didn’t have much of a thread running through it (I suppose not too many of my posts do though 🙂 ). However, this post was very expressive of the way my brain is working right now—just trying to process it all and regain a little composure. I ultimately just needed to get some of my thoughts down, and now that I have I feel a bit freer.
And now, because I am FASCINATED by this right now:
When is “pushing yourself” too much? Where do we divide the line between fighting through the pain and accepting it? Do you think runners are particularly susceptible to this kind of thinking?
I’m not entirely sure if I’ve had the time to fully process the outcome of this race, and in fact I think it may take a few days for it all to sink in. I can say, though, that this race was without question one of the most exhausting, humbling, and all-around intense experiences I have ever had. It is probably safe to say, as well, that this race was perhaps the most memorable—for better or for worse—that I’ll ever go through.
I’m going to start with the end (Tarantino style), just to set the stage for what the race resulted in, and then I’ll back-track with more details of how everything set up.
The good news about this race: I PR’ed, and I finished.
The bad news: I was carried across the finish line (and over the last .3 miles), and I spent an hour afterward in the medical tent being treated for severe heat stroke.
Rewind, rewind, rewind…
Leave you hanging much? Well, prepare for a lengthy race report…and I promise to flesh out the details that resulted in the most physically grueling experience I’ve ever been through.
Let’s start at the beginning of it all.
Not a detail missed. I was really feeling psyched for this race. I was nervous, obviously, but really I was just ready to see what I could do. I knew my training was right on with where I wanted it to be, I knew my taper was smart, and I certainly knew my carbo-loading went perfectly. I was ready to run.
It’s 5:30 am! It’s race day! Let’s run a marathon!
The race was quite small, but still well-run and organized. I managed to see most of the people I knew beforehand, which was very comforting and helped get me excited. My sister had come down for the race, and she managed to capture some corral pictures right before the gun went off.
PSYCHED!
Ready to run! (These photos seem so ironic right now…)
My strategy was to stick with the 3:40 pacer until the halfway point, and then try and chase down 3:35 if I was feeling up for it. The 3:40 pacer, as you might be able to tell from the above photo, had a ridiculously fantastic mustache, and I knew we were going to get along from the very start.
My sister was also able to capture this video right before the gun went off. I admit, I hate videos of myself, but I figured it’s a good way to get a glimpse into the beginning of race excitement:
And off we went! The weather was a perfect 45 degrees, slightly overcast, and ideal for racing conditions. The first few miles felt great, and although I could tell we were going a bit quicker than 3:40, I figured we’d settle into a proper pace before too long. The first 5 or so miles wound through Tacoma neighborhoods, and I really enjoyed seeing some of my old token running spots along the route. My legs felt springy, my knee didn’t hurt at all (which was perhaps my biggest worry), and I was feeling very comfortable with the 8:15 or so pace we were averaging.
At this point, I will admit, I was already a bit hesitant about our slightly faster speed. I knew that miles 10-22 were the hilly parts, and I wanted to save my strength for that, so I did fall a bit behind the group for a bit. I was trying very hard to run my own pace, as opposed to following the pacer, however we seemed to be right on par with one another, so this approach seemed do-able.
I hate to say that it was really only the first 10 miles that I can say I felt “good.” I started to feel tired much earlier than I expected, and than I knew I was in shape for, and I credited this to the hills, the humidity, and the speed. I didn’t feel too bad, but I knew that the way I was feeling around miles 12-16 was not how I should be feeling. I was staying more hydrated than normal, wary of the humidity and the exertion, and I was taking in a bit more fuel than normal as well.
At mile 16, my sister ran a bit with me, handed me a caffeine energy gel pack, and gave me a bit of encouragment. It was great to see her, but (as I told her) I was not feeling the way I knew I should have at that point.
moral support from CB
mile 16, on a hill, SHOCKING.
Between miles 16-19, I purposefully fell behind the 3:40 pacer. I wasn’t trusting his timing (which, rightfully so, because we were about 3 minutes ahead), and I trudged on myself. I was hoping that somehow the hills, which plagued nearly every mile since mile 11, would somehow let up a bit…but alas, they never really stopped. I was prepared for this, certainly, and I can’t necessarily say that they were worse than I expected—but I had never really had the experience of running that fast, for that long, with so many hills.
I was trying desperately to relax, to let the music energize me, and to remember that I was in sight of a BQ. Because I was…and I forced myself to focus on this goal. If I let myself wander away from that thought, all I would be thinking about was stopping—because that’s all I really wanted to do. Every so often, I would get a mini surge of energy—normally due to a quick gulp of my gel pack or a brief slowing at a water station—but truthfully my body was done around mile 20. My mind, however, was relentless, and despite my nausea, my aching legs, and my fuzzy brain, I maintained my speed and kept going.
And you know what else kept going? The hills. Despite all my mental and physical preparation for the hill factor in this race, they really seemed to be the biggest physical representation of my mental state over the last 10k. I muttered more curse words than I care to admit every single time I saw another upward slope ahead of me, and despite every molecule screaming inside of me to “STOP!” I kept going. I tried desperately to maintain the thought that I was well within sight of a BQ, however that thought—despite how bad I wanted it and how hard I had worked—was being completely eclipsed by my desire for it to be over.
On top of this battle, as well, I was so frustrated. I kept thinking, “This is not how I felt during my first marathon, why does it feel so hard now?” and I was mad at myself. I started cursing my failed race strategy, my ill-hill preparation, and my overly zealous attempt to make this race—one that I KNEW was a hard course—my try at a BQ.
I kept going though, fast, and at this point I was about 1 minute away from the 3:35 pacer (BQ time for women.) Based on my own timing, I knew that I had about 28 minutes to run the last 5k—a task that would be a piece of cake on any other day. I tried to remember that I knew I could do it, that the ultimate, ideal goal of a BQ was still within my sight—despite my body rejecting every bit of mental encouragement.
However, my body’s desire for the race to be over had finally surpassed my desire to BQ, and it would offer no waves, surges, or even glimpses of energy. It was done. My brain, however, was still on a mission. I was very back and forth between these two conflicting feelings. I think at this point, my brain had overtaken my body’s desire to stop, and I was running solely on the dream of completing the goal. All I could focus on were the mile markers, because all I wanted was for it to be over—and of course, the mile markers…22, 23, 24 were going by slower than any other race I’ve ever been in. At mile 24, my vision was getting a bit distorted, and all I wanted to do was close my eyes. I felt so tired that I was overwhelmed with a feeling of wanting to sleep. In fact, I think I did close my eyes for a few paces in there. Truthfully, I’m having a hard time actually remembering things after mile 22.
When I saw mile 25, I felt the smallest morsel of encouraging energy—my first since way back in the middle of the race. I knew if I just kept going, just a little bit further, I would be done and I would be under 3:35. I had never been so overwhelmed with the desire to be done with something than I was at this point—which was frustrating. I know how to push through pain, I should be so excited…I’m about to qualify for Boston, mind over matter…these were the only thoughts I could use to make my body keep going.
I rounded the final corner of mile 25, and I spotted both the mile 26 marker and the finish line. At this point though, my desperate running was only focused on finishing. I wanted nothing more than to be done—this desire had officially overwhelmed both my body and my brain, and although I was still within reach of a 3:35 finish time, all I could attempt to do was finish.
I was hunched over at this point, the picture of physical exhaustion, and all at once, just before I crossed the mile 26 marker, I collapsed.
My legs had given out and they crumpled beneath me. I tried desperately to get up, over and over, but I couldn’t even get halfway up without completely falling over again. In my head I thought, “No, no…not now, not when I’m so close!” but I was also in a panic for help. There weren’t too many runners around me, and I was just far enough away from the finish that there weren’t any spectators or volunteers near me. My brain was so warped and my body was so overheated that I could barely managed to look around, let alone call out for help. All at once, though, two half-marathon finishers stopped their race and offered to help. I pleaded for them to go on and finish their races, but instead they so graciously took me on either side of them and carried me.
I am a bit fuzzy on the memories of exactly how everything afterward went. I remember the woman who picked me up feeding me a chocolate GU, which I definitely did not want, but she insisted (understandably…since I was so decrepit at that point) and I remember insisting that they let me walk over the finish line myself. They had to essentially carry me, since I was unable to put any weight on my legs, and eventually a few volunteers caught wind of what was going on and ran over to help out.
From the sidelines (where Corey, BF, and my friend Kawika were standing), they saw that the Medical Director had been alerted that someone needed attention. As soon as they saw it was me, BF jumped over the barrier, and ran over to me as well (a miraculous feat, given he had incredibly tired half-marathon legs himself). Unfortunately, I actually don’t remember this—but apparently I was very gracious, insistent upon crossing the finish line myself, and I said it was okay to take pictures (hey, perhaps my good humor doesn’t entirely disappear when my physical capabilities do). With hoards of people around me as we got to the finish line, they let me down to walk about three steps over the actual line, and I was immediately picked up by the Medical Director and taken to the medical tent.
The next several minutes are a big blur, but I remember a lot of doctors around me, while I was laying on a table, taking my vitals, putting an IV in me, and asking me questions. I wasn’t really able to talk, so they were mainly talking to me, telling me I would be okay and instructing me on what they needed to do. They took my temperature (rectally, which was awesome…except that I didn’t really care at the time) and my temperature was at 105.
At this point, I regained some consciousness, and I was very scared. I repeatedly asked them if I was going to be okay, and they assured me I would, but I needed to be cooled down immediately. They lifted me, very gingerly since my muscles were cramping so badly, and completely immersed me in a huge ice bath. I regained a lot of sensation at this point, and the ice bath felt so amazingly good. They covered every part of me with ice, ensuring I would cool down, and they started asking me questions to gauge my mental state. I was able to answer all their questions coherently (for which I was proud of myself) and they let BF come in to be with me. My left hamstring and my right calf were cramping so badly, and two people had to continually clench and massage them to make the seizing stop. I was completely unable to move my legs without my muscles clenching, and I remember this being the most painful part.
They kept me in the bath for a while, making sure that my core temperature was dropping, and I began to be coherent enough to ask BF how his race went. He ran a 1:47…and despite my current state of being, I was (and am) SO proud of him! The doctors kept asking me questions and letting me know I’d be okay, and at some point while I was still in the ice bath I became stable enough that my emotions got the best of me. I burst into tears, completely overwhelmed with everything, and mainly concerned for the state of my running career. I said out loud, “What if I never want to run a marathon again? What if I’m done forever?” which was a paralyzing fear, despite the fact that I had just been chewed up and spit out by the marathon. BF…in all his logical and rational thinking…said, “Babe, if you are saying ‘What if?’ at this point in time, I think it’s safe to say you’ll be fine.”
Eventually, I got myself together, and the doctors were able to carefully hoist me out of the bath. My legs continued to cramp pretty violently, and they had to keep my legs lifted at a 90 degree angle to drain the blood. They took my temperature again, and I was down to 101…which they seemed very impressed by. I felt very feverish, and the thought of sitting up was very daunting. They eventually began giving me Gatorade, which was sitting fine, and they took it as a good sign. Eventually, they very slowly hoisted me up so I was sitting up-right on the table. I felt dizzy and flu-like, but definitely much better.
Slowly but surely (and because this detailing is getting a bit long), I was able to get up walk very slowly. I was absolutely freezing, given the fact that my clothes were soaking wet and I had just been in ice-cold water (and just ran a marathon), and they took me outside with a space blanket to warm up. I was able to meet up with my group at this point, and eventually I regained both my cognitive and (limited) physical abilities. The mustache pacer actually came by as well, as he’d seen the less-than-glorious finish, to check and see how I was doing. The doctors told me that I had to pee before they would let me go (which I accomplished) and we were allowed to leave.
From entering the medical tent to leaving, it took approximately an hour, and by the time we were allowed to leave all I wanted to do was changed my clothes, warm up, and sleep.
Afterward, everything was somewhat post-race standard. I was able to congratulate some of my fellow marathoners, we got a big farm breakfast, and I spent the afternoon laying on the couch. Unfortunately, I was not left with the accomplished, satisfying feeling of finishing a marathon. After my first marathon, I was on a high of feeling so happy and proud of myself, and despite the fact that I did finish this race…the aftermath took away from the whole “I finished a marathon” experience. I felt a whole range of emotions, but primarily I felt grateful and scared. I cannot express how thankful I am that such a thing happened so close to the finish line and there were people around to help. I can’t imagine what would have happened if this had occurred any earlier. I was blown away by how helpful the volunteers, the runners that picked me up, the medical staff, and “my people” were through this whole thing. I tried to thank them all as much as I could, and I wish I could fully express just how gracious and humbled I am to have had such incredible support.
Like nothing happened, right?
After assuring my family that everything was okay, the only feeling I could really feel was exhausted. Marathon exhausted, certainly, but mainly emotionally and physically drained from the whole experience. Unfortunately, I wasn’t actually able to sleep as well as I’d hoped last night—my heart rate was still a bit high, and I was unable to rifle through all the different thoughts going through my head.
Today, despite my very sore legs and general fatigue, I feel much better. Like I said, I can’t really begin to articulate how this experience has affected me—because it all hasn’t really processed yet. I feel a combination of embarrassment, fear, shock, and stupidity. I can’t really help but be critical of myself, for running such a physically demanding race at the rate I was and for not obeying the demands of my body. I believe this feeling will go away—because honestly, I know that I am exactly the type of runner that this would happen to. My brain was stronger than my body, which most of the time is a great strength, but this time it got the best of me.
I will post later on my feelings following this whole experience, once they’ve all sunk in a bit more, but at this point I can say this: I know how it feels to push to the absolute furthest points of my limits, and there is not one more ounce of stamina or mental toughness I could have given into that race. Unfortunately, I was over my limits—and despite my will to keep trying, my body’s resistance finally overcame my mental determination.
I am sure I will take more away from this experience than I can actually wrap my head around, but for now I am going to let some rest, reflection, and recuperation help rebuild both my mental and physical strength.
And if you were curious, my official finish time was just over 3:44…three minutes faster than my first marathon. I find this humorous, and although this is a PR, I do think it should have a big fat asterisk next to it. Also, somehow in the midst of my collapse and being picked up…I managed to stop my watch at 3:33, meaning that had I been able to keep going, I’m pretty sure I would have been able to pull it out. Am I disappointed? Sure. But I also know that there was really nothing more I could have done…and I’m actually comforted in knowing that I was right there, and had the course been more forgiving, there is no question I would have had it.
Still got my medal! And it has a bottle opener on it…awesome.
So, there you are. A very long, detailed explanation of one of the more intense experiences I’ve ever had in my life. Out of all the scenarios that could have happened yesterday, this occurrence never even crossed my mind, and although I know these collapses can happen…I never imagined it would happen to me. I can assure you though that I am feeling better, I am going to continue to take care of myself, and I have no doubt that the lessons I draw from this experience will eventually make me a much stronger and prepared runner. That is, of course, when running doesn’t sound like the most painful thing on Earth.
Thank you for reading and for everyone’s unbelievable support. Congratulations to BF for his PR, and to all the runners who raced yesterday! Tacoma was without a doubt the hardest course I’ve ever competed on, and I admire every single one of you for taking it on.
Lastly, despite the shock and the drama that occurred at the end of this race, I have no doubt that the things I will take away will be more influential and more beneficial than any BQ or goal time could ever give me. And mark my words, the marathon may have scared the crap out of me yesterday…but I am nowhere near done with it.
Run Birdie Run 