Category Archives: Running Experiences

Personal Running Experiences

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Run for me

I never imagined that it would take so much self-discipline to NOT run.  That’s right folks, I must be plum crazy.  Everywhere I turn I see runners… at the gym, on the roads, at the park…. everywhere.  Funny, just as I was looking out my back sliding glass doors right now I saw a runner go by.  Seriously.  These runners remind me of what I can’t do right now.  The most ironic thing is that I can pretty much do anything else BUT run.  I still go to my weekly BodyPump class and pump iron, I have become a serious cyclist (okay, at least I like to think so) and I enjoy long, fast walks.  The boot camp class would be an option too, but it is usually involves some type of sprint running.  The only other thing that I can’t do is walk anywhere near water.  Usually about once a day I will happen to slip on a puddle and that actually hurts my leg.  So, no running and no slipping for me.

Let’s see, it has been 2 weeks and 1 day since my last run.  I remember that last run well.  It was a slightly painful run thanks to this sciatic business and it was rather slow.  I struggled to run 5 miles, but I did and I felt accomplished at the end.  The pain has been bearable in most cases, but obviously something is wrong and I have to fix it.  Some days I just want to say “screw it” and go for a run, but I suppose that would be stupid.  I know my husband would say so.  Therefore, I have to wait for my physical therapist to give the okay.

As I arrived at physical therapy this morning the therapist asked me how I was feeling.  I told her my muscles were sore, but only because I had done weight training the day before.  My sciatic was not bothering me and it doesn’t ever seem to interfere with my daily tasks.  It only decides to torture me when I try to run.  I kind of felt excited when she told me that I would try running on the treadmill with the assistance of a belt.  We got it all set up and my hips were re-adjusted (because my hips tend to de-align for some reason).  I started out slow and brought it up to a slow jog.  Well, guess what?  The belt didn’t make any difference.  I still had the same pain so she told me to stop.  That was disheartening.

The objective now it to strengthen my piriformis muscles, glutes and hip flexors.  Folks, I am no newbie to the world of exercise so it is kind of irritating that I have to do more of what I already do.  I just hope that the more will actually help me.  It is not like I am the average Joe who just started running and had never been doing any type of weight training.  It would almost seem reasonable for Joe to have some sciatic pain.  I have been running for many years so you can see why this doesn’t make sense to me.  It actually makes me feel a bit doubtful about any future running endeavors.  However, I will just go with the motions and see what happens.  I feel the pressure to remain positive.

Still, I am reminded about NOT running every day.  Just the other day someone asked me if I was a runner.  I automatically said “yes” but then wondered if that was really an accurate answer.  The woman had said that I looked like a runner because I had no body fat.  That would be a compliment to most people I’m sure, but I was saddened by her comment.  Not only because I now have to watch what I eat like any other non-runner, but by the mere fact that I am unsure as to whether or not I should call myself a runner.

I drive down the road and glance at the runner on the sidewalk and I think about how lucky they are.  They can run and I can’t.  As I thought about that today, I realized that I am not the only one who can’t run.  There was a time when I was running for those who couldn’t.  I can’t really feel sorry for myself.  There is just too much real grief in the world.  Yet, I can still hope that someone out there will run for me.

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I will run like my mother, but the rest is up to me

I just received notification that my subscription to my domain “runlikemymother.com” is about to expire.  I have been contemplating whether or not I should change the name of this domain.

When I started running, I began to think more about my mother.  I felt like it was a way for me to connect to her.  I thought about how proud she would be if she could watch me cross the finish line of my first marathon.  Back when I was young, my mother tried so hard to get me to like running.  I resisted and she finally gave up.  As I got older and had my own children, I began to fall in love with running.  I guess it is kind of similar to despising broccoli as a child when your parents are trying to force feed it to you and then later realizing that it isn’t so bad (okay, I am still not a big fan, but I am finally smart enough to eat it because I know it is good for me).

Running and my mother just seem to go hand in hand.  When I am running, I think of my mother.  When I think of my mother, I think about running.  Honestly, running is really the only positive thing I can associate my mother to.  I love her, but she made a lot of mistakes that I try to avoid dwelling on.  Since she passed on, there has really been no need to hold a grudge.

Yes, I have been fretting about the genetic issues that I have possibly inherited from my mother (the anemia is a for sure, but the degenerative bone disease is still pending).  I am a little annoyed that I was told I couldn’t go to flight school because of my hemoglobin levels, but I have obviously moved on and chosen a different path that still suited me fine.  Of course I am now annoyed that I have been instructed not to run right now, but that too shall pass.

The other day when I was talking to my step-mother (someone who I didn’t always get along with until I realized that she is more of a mother than my own mother ever was) she reminded me that I am not my mother. I am not my mother in so many ways.  Somehow I have learned from my mother’s mistakes and avoided making those same mistakes myself.  I am a better mother to my own children because I know what it is like to basically grow up without a mother.  The most important difference is that I am stronger than my mother ever was.  She could run marathons and not only can I run marathons, but I can fight and push through all of the resistance that life brings forth.  My mother could not and, in the end, it beat her.

I love my mother because she is my mother.  I admire my mother as a runner.  I will run like my mother.  Everything else is up to me.  I make my own destiny.

 

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This seriously sucks

(Warning: this blog post exhibits a lot of negative emotions… some swearing might be involved)

It came to a point where I could no longer ignore it even if I wanted to.  It is there and it sure as hell isn’t leaving.  Not only is it a pain, but it is causing me to run slow and inhibiting me from running far.  And that’s not all.  After I finish running it punishes me with more pain and a hobbling walk.

So there I was sitting in the doctor’s office explaining the symptoms.  I had basically diagnosed myself (which I know doctors just love) and emphasized how my sciatic nerve was causing so much pain in my leg.  Well, I had experienced it during each pregnancy (same leg) so I was sure I knew what I was talking about.  I explained how the pain had been coming back on and off over the past 6 months, but was barely noticeable and didn’t affect my ability to move.  I just made sure I avoided mountain climbers during my boot camp class because that tended to produce an electric shock in my butt (a very bizarre sensation I must say).  Then I continued to talk about how the pain just recently intensified after a normal Tuesday night bridge run.  Nothing crazy happened that night.  I just ran like I always ran.  The only difference was that the next day I could barely walk because my left leg hurt so much.

Of course I basically told the doctor that I had to keep running.  I think she was a little concerned and decided to move things along quickly.  Next thing I know I was being told to go get an x-ray taken.  They told me to hurry on over and that I would be fit in between appointments.  It was actually a pretty smooth ordeal and I was back to my regular business (picking up my daughter at school) in no time.  Then, a couple of hours later as I was helping my daughter at her Girl Scout cookie booth, I get a call from the nurse.  I was kind of distracted and didn’t quite get all of the details.  All I heard was “compression fraction” and “arthritis.”  After I hung up I realized that I had no idea where the fracture was.  Was it in my hip?  Or in my leg?  So I quickly called back to hear the nurse say “L5.”  I do know a little something about human anatomy so I had a clear idea that she was referring to my lower back.  A fracture in my lower back?  You’ve got to be shitting me.  I don’t even feel pain in my lower back!  I do freakin’ weight training to keep my back stable and in good form.  How in the hell did I fracture my back??

So, of course, as I was sitting there at the booth I started googling on my phone.  What I basically found out from every single website I looked at was that a compression fracture in the lower lumbar is only caused by one of two things: trauma to the back or osteoporosis (when the back weakens it can be easily fractured).  I sure as hell would remember if I was in a car accident or hit by a bus so it wasn’t the first option.  As I continued to read, and re-read, I came to the understanding that compression fractures tend to occur in people over the age of 55.  Do you realize that I am 33?

I tried to divert my mind, but I started thinking about my mother.  That only pissed me off.  You see, my mother had a degenerative bone disease of some sort (I sure as hell wasn’t smart enough to ask any questions before she left this world) and she basically endured about 20 surgeries and was even mostly bed-ridden during the last couple years of her life.  Maybe I wasn’t so wise to become a runner like her.  I am following in her footsteps in more ways than one.

Now I am sitting here feeling pity for myself.  Not only pity for myself, but as I look at my three girls I feel pity for them too.  I still really have no fucking clue what is going on yet, but I have a very bad gut feeling that it isn’t good.  People are telling me that I will recover quickly and be back at it, but I am not so sure.  If I am on the same path that my mom was, then I am not so sure anymore.

The doctor’s office called me a day later to say that they wanted to schedule a CT scan.  I guess we have more to figure out.  Not only that, but my first day of physical therapy begins on Monday.  I know it is so hard for people to understand (especially my husband) but I will not stop doing what I love to do.  Running and exercising and doing races is my livelihood!  Besides my family and friends, there is nothing else that defines who I am!  I have the ability to inspire my own children and maybe even my friends out there so I can’t stop now.  I seriously wanted to scream at my husband yesterday when we were out touring D.C. via walking and he mentioned that we probably shouldn’t be because I was limping.  I know he only said it out of concern, but to me it was mortifying to think that whatever this damn thing is that it might try to get the best of me.  Fuck it!  Whatever the hell it is I will fight it!  Don’t try to stop me!

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Another swimming attempt

I know I can run and I am pretty sure I can ride a bike okay (at least if I am not going over hills or riding down a busy road), but the swimming thing is a bit iffy.  When I went to the pool a few weeks ago to swim laps (which I hadn’t done in over 8 years), I was concerned that the lifeguards were going to jump in after me since I know it must have looked like I was drowning.  Well, I decided to try again a few days ago.  I think it went much better than expected, but not as great as I had hoped.

So, I bought myself a pair of swimming goggles since I had no idea where I had put mine (I did mention it has been over 8 years, right??).  Last time I swam laps I used my husband’s goggles and I just couldn’t get them to fit right.  Water kept entering and I kept stopping to pull them off.  Much better this time.  They fit perfectly and kept the water out the entire time.

As we arrived at the pool I noticed that all of the lap lanes were full.  It looked like some high school team had taken over the lap lanes and I was left with one section of the pool that was open… it didn’t have any floating lane lines (or whatever those things are called).  My husband just told me I could swim there, but I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to swim in a straight line and that I would bump into the dude who was currently swimming there.  Then I saw some kid at one end and I could only imagine him walking in front of me and messing up my rhythm (because I thought I was going to have some kind of rhythm).  But I didn’t have any other choice so I sat on edge of the pool and dipped my feet in.  The water was cold.  I soooo hate cold water.  I can spend the day with the water at my waist if it is too cold for me to get in all the way.  I kind of needed to get in all the way this time, though, if I wanted to swim laps.  The initial contact was a shock, but I warmed up within the first minute.  I figured it was good motivation for me to just keep moving.

One out-and-back lap done and I was feeling pretty good.  I actually thought that maybe my form had improved since last time, but I can never be sure since I always thought I had good running form and we all know that isn’t the case.  At least I didn’t feel like I was drowning and that all eyes were on me.  That’s an improvement.  I kept swimming from one side of the pool and stopping at the wall to push off.  I have no idea how to do one of those flip turns and I have no desire to learn how to do it.  It is not like I will be flip-turning in a lake (but I also have to remember that I will not have a wall to hold onto either).  My breathing was kind of similar to a person who is hyperventilating, but I just tried to focus on moving my arms and legs.  I can’t do everything all at once!  It only reminded me of the time when I was learning how to fix my poor running form.  I was supposed to slightly lean forward, shorten my stride, keep my arms from moving to much, relax my shoulders and count cadence.  Sure.  Whatever.

Well, I did learn that when you are swimming there is not much else to do, but swim.  And think.  There is really nothing to look at and it is not like you can wear headphones and listen to music.  All you see is water, a black line, a white wall and maybe some bright colors that pop up sporadically when the person swimming next to you is wearing a funky speedo.  All you hear is water sloshing in your ears and the muffled sound of kids yelling or whistles blowing.  And people say running is boring?

I was relieved when I finally passed lap 6.  That was the furthest I had gotten last time.  My goal was to do 10 full laps.  It had to be at least half a mile.  If I could do that then I would be set for doing a half mile during the triathlon.  So, I kept it up until I reached lap 10.  I got out of the pool all proud of myself and told my husband how many laps I had done (without stopping of course).  I asked him how far a half mile would be.  He started making some calculations in his head and replied with the number 17.  17 laps??  Those 10 took me 15 minutes.  That would mean I would have to do nearly a half an hour of swimming?  It just didn’t sound right.  I guess I didn’t believe him so I went home and used google to convert yards to miles.  Sure enough, he was right.  I felt slightly defeated.  Now I need to go back to the pool to swim farther and faster!

 

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My First Ride

Well, I have had my new shoes since Thursday and today is already Tuesday of the following week.  It took me that long to get on the bike.  So Friday I had a lot of baking and babysitting to do.  Then on Saturday I was out fundraising and running (I just can’t say no to my weekly long run).  I thought Sunday would be the day.  Until I found out that there were 20 mph winds.  Then on Monday it was super cold.  I don’t know.  I guess I was just waiting for the perfect conditions even though I have always said that you just need to suck it up and do it anyway.  I just didn’t want my first biking experience to turn ugly because that would turn me off.

Tuesday morning finally came and I had my chance.  My husband was home in the morning.  Okay, so that meant I could sleep in while he got up to take care of get the kids.  No, I forced myself to get up.  For some reason it would have been easier if I were just getting up to go for a run.  I suppose you just get comfortable doing one thing and you don’t really want to reach outside your comfort zone.  Well, I had no other excuses.  The temperature was reasonable and the winds were calm.

Before I headed out the door I had to get on the trainer one last time.  My husband had to show me how to shift. He told me it was a lot like driving a car.  Good thing I know how to drive a manual transmission.  Yes, as I go faster I need to shift up.  When I was picturing it in my head, though, I just didn’t really see how I was going to be going so fast that I needed to shift up.  I was prepared for slowness.  When I first started running I was slow.  Slow, slow, slow.  Then as I practiced I became faster.  I really can’t expect to just jump on the bike and win a race… but I sure as heck would try.

I straddled the bike at the top of my driveway as my husband watched in anticipation.  Okay, he was actually yelling at me to get inside because of a dog running by.  This dog had been known to chase people in our neighborhood.  I suppose it wouldn’t be a good idea for him to chase me on the bike because I would most likely run him over and crash.  I waited for the dog to leave and then I was off.  Yeah, I made it down the street before I realized that I needed some more clothing.  I know what to wear for every temperature when I run.  I tend to run hot so I thought that I would warm up when I started riding until I realized that riding a bike causes more wind to hit you.  Well, duh.

Jacket, check.  Now I was finally ready to go.  I had already decided to go in and out of the subdivisions.  I knew that I didn’t want to go out on the main road.  I also knew that I didn’t want to cross over to the other side of our community because that would mean going uphill.  I love going up hills when I run and I think I might actually like doing it on a bike.  However, I know that I will dread going down a hill.  That just scares the crap out of me.  So, let’s stay away from hills for now.

Riding in and out of the cul-de-sacs was kind of a pain for me.  It was good for learning how to use the shifter because I would constantly speed up and slow down.  However, I just wanted to go faster and not have to stop, but that would mean getting out on a busy road.  And I wasn’t even sure what to do at a stoplight.  I mean, do people still use those arm signals?  What if I wanted to turn left?  I would be sitting there in the middle of the road with all of these cars around me. I guess I just kind of felt exposed.  I knew I didn’t belong on the sidewalk, but I also didn’t feel like I belonged on the street.

I felt like I could go for a long time.  I wasn’t even sweating so I wasn’t even sure if I was burning any calories.  It didn’t seem like a real workout to me, but I think that would be different out on the open road where I could really get going.  The only thing that stopped me from going more than 10 miles was the fact that I didn’t have any padded biking shorts yet and that my upper body was tense from leaning over in an awkward position.  Yep, I obviously don’t have the endurance for that yet.  Just like running, I would have to work my way up.

All in all, it was an okay experience and I will definitely get out there more.  I feel a bit more confident about a triathlon.  Now I need to focus on getting out onto the roads where all of the cars are.  As I was driving today, I saw a cyclist wearing a very bright green jacket.  Yep, that is a good idea.  It looks like bright and ugly will become part of my wardrobe.