First of all, yesterday’s post was my 1500th post on this blog. That’s pretty awesome, yes? YES!?
I think so!
I was still on a high this morning from my first pain-free day in almost a year…and when I did my core work and PT stretches, the trend continued. A twinge here or there…but no pain. I got through all of the stretches and exercises without wincing once. Not once.
Two days in a row. WOOT!
So, I happily made gluten-free funfetti Mickey Mouse waffles for breakfast this morning and prepped to head to the gym for a bit of cross-training. No swimming currently due to sinus issues…but at least do a little something today. I ate, did dishes, got stuff ready for the gym and headed out.
With freezing fog, 10 degree temps, and cold air that made me cough just inhaling it, it was no surprise that there was frost all over my car windows. My roommate started up the car and I grabbed the scraper and went to work. As I finished up the passenger side of the car, I crossed behind to hit up the drivers side…and my foot found black ice.
BLACK FREAKIN’ ICE!
So…I slipped. I immediately countered in an attempt to find balance again. The shift through my balance off as my foot just moved with it…and…
BOOM!
Down I went. Hard. I sat there for a moment, every bone in my body having been jarred by the fall…but I felt fine. My roommate got out and helped me up and I moved away from the black ice. I was now…hurting.
SUCK!
I finished scraping the windows and got into the car to go to the gym. Now, being more cautious due to the fall.
So, the day started off really well…but one little slip on black ice sort of brought that happy, healing feeling to a crashing halt. I know people love to run in snow, but this is one reason I don’t anymore. I sprained my ankle a little over a year ago on ice…and that made it clear I needed to stay in on these days. With that being said, I did get my workout in at the gym, then went and got coffee and finished up grocery shopping.
And…I’m sporting a bit of a bruise…but at least a bruise is all I ended up with.
Be safe out there. Black ice is hard to see…and you may not see it until you’re on the ground.
Life has been a roller coaster ride for me this year, unfortunately with more downs than ups. And it’s been an emotional, physical, and mental ride for me.
If you’ve been following along, this year started with a fantastic marathon finish in the (slightly long) Charleston Marathon in Charleston, South Carolina. I thought I was gearing up for a great year of running…but then…while not even doing any running, but in my cross training, something went wrong.
My hip labrum tore. A small tear…but it took a little bit of time to get around to the actual diagnosis. There were other problems with my body…like a tight lower back that was practically immobile…but the hip was the kicker. I had an MRI the week I was heading to the Boston Marathon…with no running since February when this all happened. No joke. And just days before, the diagnosis of the tear. And then the Cortisone shot…and a trip to Boston to make some sort of attempt on the marathon I worked my ass off to qualify for. Had it been any other marathon, I would have skipped it. But it was Boston…I earned this. Needless to say…the weather was cold, rainy, windy and just MEH. The hip felt good at the start, but at Mile 6, it all started to fall apart. That left 20 miles of misery that I hobbled through, mostly walking, always crying, and just falling apart. Boston broke my already fractured mindset, confidence, and my heart.
I returned home and immediately began an new physical therapy session. Unfortunately, all the PT appointments I had prior to the hip labrum tear used up most of what my insurance would allow. I had seven appointments with the new facility…and they went by way too fast. But, at least we could target the problem properly this time. And, slowly, I felt like things were getting better. I could move a bit more. Things didn’t suck as bad. And soon, I was back to (slowly) running. First on the treadmill for 5 minutes…then outside for 5 minutes…then 10…then 15…then 20…then 3 miles…then 5 miles. Soon I was doing 5 miles 3 times a week. My coach and I decided 3 days a week would be torture for me as a runner used to running 5-6 times a week, but would be best for my body. I was also slowing down my training runs. Not going over 9:00/mile. It happened a few times, but not intentionally. My running was uncomfortable…but I could manage and not be laid up afterwards.
I ran my first 5K race back from the hip injury in August…the Kicking Butt 5K to raise money for colon cancer research. It was not anywhere near my fastest 5K, but it was on hills, it was hard, and I felt good the entire way. I came in 4th in my age division…a bit of a disappointment, but good for such a long time away from the sport. I ran a 16 miler the following weekend in preparation for an upcoming marathon in Hawaii a week afterwards.
But then…I fractured my leg. Stress fracture. Just above the ankle. The doctor said it was probably brought on by overcompensating on my left leg for my right hip. UGH! I was put in a boot, told I couldn’t run for 6-8 weeks while in it…and to have fun in Hawaii.
I behaved. I never ran once while stuck in the boot. I did go to Hawaii…and missed the marathon. I struggled through 8 weeks of being stuck on weight machines and in the pool at the gym. I discovered the sit-down elliptical, so that I could feel like I was getting my sweat on while working those running muscles in the process. And then…the boot came off. October 21, 2015…I had full use of both of my legs again.
Two (painful) miles one Tuesday
I waited until November 1 to go on my first run. I was out of town, but my friend lives in a very flat neighborhood. I took it slow and steady, for just 2 miles. And when I stopped and went inside, the hip flaired up. It was NOT happy. And for the rest of that day, I hobbled and limped and worried now over my hip…and the leg because I could tell I was overcompensating in just my walking stride. I stretched. I rolled. And the next day I went to my spin class…and things started to feel better. Then, Tuesday, I figured I would do the second (of three) runs of the week…at night. Two miles. In my neighborhood. Small hills were involved. Nothing big. I got home, already feeling a bit of a twinge in my hip. And when I stopped, the same thing that happened in Columbus, Ohio, happened here. And my hip has been hurting the rest of the week since.
It is so frustrating. Aggravating. Heartbreaking. My confidence in myself, my abilities, my body, and my potential is shot. Honestly, I just feel like I get one problem fixed and another one arises or comes back. And it has left me in tears more times than I care to admit this past week. I have been continuing some non-impact activities…including my spin classes…but I’ve stopped running. I called my doctor’s office on Wednesday, even when my roommate did her usual thing that makes me feel stupid for wanting to see someone about a problem when it comes to my body and running, and managed to snag an appointment for the following Wednesday. One week.
And now, the ankle is fine…but sometimes I get a bit of twinge and I panic. I’m gun-shy now when it comes to any ache and pain. The hip has been bad since Tuesday night. And I am just trying to tell myself that one day I’ll wake up and not be in pain. Because I have hurt in some way, shape or form since early February. I have missed out on so many races I signed up for, and have been angry at myself over the money that I have lost. Money I didn’t really have to waste.
Comebacks are hard. Comebacks mean struggles. I’ve been struggling for almost a year now. And I’m tired of struggling. I’m tired of working my way back only to be thrown back down and having to start over.
But the thing is…I don’t give up. And I hope that on Wednesday we take some better steps toward getting me back to where I used to be. My run on Tuesday is definitely showing a problem…my cadence is way down from where it usually is when I run. I’m just tired of hurting, failing, and having to make these comebacks.
Notice the difference in the Cadence on my Garmin’s from my 16 miler and to my 2 miler I did on Tuesday…
Think of me as Wednesday comes around…and hope that I finally get some sort of a solution. I miss running. And right now, all I want to do is get out there and run freely. Run like the wind. Feel like I’m flying. But right now I can’t.
This is my life…for almost 8 weeks…Bootsie and my random shoe of choice.
…but today is not that day.
Sadly, I have 8 more days left in Bootsie. It should have come off tomorrow, but my orthopedic doctor was on emergency medical eave until next week, when he’s on a condensed schedule. So…the big day is October 21…and I might have been counting down since that appointment was made. I’d much rather have it off tomorrow…but this just gives it a little more healing time, so as much as I want to kick and scream and be rid of this cumbersome beast that’s been Velcro-ed to my leg since September 1…I’ll behave…for now.
And, of course, getting rid of Bootsie does not mean that I can immediately jump back into training. This fracture was actually pretty big. 2.6 centimeters. YIKES!! So, it will mean easing back into things. As much as I just want to hit the road again, I know I can’t. Well, I can, but gradually. Slow and steady…
Don’t get me wrong, while a downer and a burden, I haven’t let Bootsie slow me down too much. I still go to the gym. I weight train (even though I hate it) and I’ve found a sit-down elliptical that allows me to get my much-needed sweat-fest on and work my running muscles without my body weight being applied. I love and hate that freakin’ machine. But…I feel so good when I get off it. Like…I’ve accomplished something. And…I even hit the pool. A LOT.
So…aside from my already blogged about trip to Hawaii just three days after being booted up with Bootsie…a few other things have gone on…some good…some depressing…but all of it helping to shape me to be a better, well-rounded individual, athlete, and the like.
Upon my return from Hawaii, I unpacked and dragged out another suitcase in order to prepare for the big event I was looking forward to the most in September…my best friend from high school’s big day – her wedding!! I was her maid of honor, and while I was not there to do a lot of the maid of honor duties…I was assured that I did more than enough from halfway across the country. I was leaving for my old stomping grounds and hometown of Horseheads, New York on September 23…
2015 Air Force Marathon…the birthday party that wasn’t…
…but before that…I had my own event to endure. And by endure, I mean it…because I had, for over a year, planned out exactly what would happen on my birthday when I turned 35…and moved up in an age division. The plan was to run the Air Force Marathon…because it’s my favorite distance, the race is not too far away, and what better way to celebrate moving up in an age division than to run a marathon, right? When the hip labrum tore, I thought to drop down to the half marathon. And when the fracture happened…it all went to hell anyway. Needless to say, I was beyond upset that my plans were all going awry on my big day. I didn’t even want to celebrate, and I LOVE my birthday. I mean…it falls on International Talk Like A Pirate Day (September 19th…so you don’t have to Google that!). What’s not to love? But I just felt unexcited about it after all my planning fell through and I was out the race fee anyway. Happy Birthday, right?
My allergen-free cookie cake from Annie May’s Sweet Café. Yes…that’s the She-Ra crown. Frickin’ awesome!
But then my roommate (Cathy) and my downstairs friend/neighbor (Michelle) conspired to give me a surprise party. The guests were Cathy’s family and my neighbors downstairs…and it was perfect. I was so surprised. There was a princess theme (I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again…I am a princess!)…and Michelle even created a Skeletor (from He-Man) to go along with my She-Ra obsession…and the design I unknowingly had on my gluten-free cookie cake (compliments of Annie May’s Sweet Cafe). The cake…was amazing. The wine was good. The decorations were all over the living room and it was awesome! And the company was just what my broken heart and body needed. The laughter was unstoppable. I even got a big shopping trip to Jungle Jim’s International Market where I stocked up on all the crazy gluten-free things I haven’t seen anywhere else. Still trying to find the Rudi’s Gluten Free Texas Toast. It still eludes me. I thought if anywhere would have it, it would be Jungle Jim’s.
So…I turned 35.
And then I went back to my roots…back home…to see my friend Jen Wright get married. My flight left here around 3 pm and took me to Chicago O’Hare. Once there, I went over to Garrett Popcorn and picked up some yummy treats for the way. I ate one of the bags for dinner…haha. Well, it was a good thing I had some comfort food on hand because we were put on a ground halt due to there being too many planes in Detroit, which was my next stop and had a very tight connection. I was starting to panic a little and was contemplating getting off and finding another route…when the ground halt was lifted and we were able to take off. This still took awhile and in the short flight from Chicago to Detroit, I was on the Delta app tracking my connecting flight. As we were beginning our descent into Detroit, it was boarding. I didn’t think I was going to make it.
It was a near thing. I was trying to move as fast as possible through a crowded airport for 20 gates. Technically 10…as they are on both sides. Thank God I was in the same terminal. This would have been easier if there hadn’t been a big shopping center in the middle of the gates of this terminal. AH! I manage to weave through there and as I’m nearing the gates, from down the way at my very empty gate I hear a small voice shouting my name. I wave my hands. “THAT’S ME!” She told me to hurry because she couldn’t hold the plane any longer. AH! So I hobbled over and then they couldn’t get my ticket to scan. She told me to just get on the flight. I asked what seat I had (it hadn’t been assigned yet) and she told me to find an empty one. Okay…so I hobble down the jetway to the plane, the door being closed behind me. I get on the plane and my carry on luggage is stored with the flight attendants…and I am put in an exit row on the aisle. Blessed leg room. I agree to help out in case of an emergency and we were off. Whew. Close one for sure! But I was on a plane and bound for the Elmira-Corning Regional Airport…at last.
Jen and me at the wedding reception. We’ve been friends since middle school and I was so honored to be her Maid of Honor!
Jen was there when we landed and we hugged the instant we saw each other. The next few days were going to be a mad whirlwind of things that needed to be done for the wedding…and then the wedding itself. It all got done, albeit it, not always as efficiently as we hoped. She had a newborn baby boy as well, so that does take some planning around, especially when it comes to feedings and naps and the like. But…we managed. We got our nails done, helped set up the garage for the rehearsal dinner and even decorated. We got the last few things on the shopping list crossed off. We had ice cream and Frosty’s…because we were reliving our childhood together, HAHA! And we got our hair done and then…the big day arrived. And I was there with her through it all…getting her in the dress…the ceremony…the reception. I wanted the day to be perfect for her…and it sounds like it was. I might have made a lot of people cry with my speech. Everyone complimented me on it…so there is that. And…Bootsie didn’t make me miss a step as I danced the night away on the dance floor. Major thanks to Nils for being the best dance partner ever! It was a beautiful wedding and a great day. So many new memories. Cathy had driven up with my dress and wedding essentials, so I drove back home instead of flying. Long trip…and we got home straight-up at midnight. Go figure. Back to work the next morning.
Kentucky History Half Marathon…which my dear friend, Kelsie, ran for me!
With October now here, I had a few events I had been looking forward to also get knocked off the calendar due to stupid Bootsie. The first was the Kentucky History Half Marathon. It was the inaugural run of Frankfort, Kentucky’s very first half marathon. I really wanted to be a part of it because I really love my Frankfort runners. But…it wasn’t happening. The race director, however, was kind enough to let me transfer my bib to someone who could run it…free of charge. I immediately thought of my friend Kelsie, who loves the half marathon distance. She is an amazing runner and an even more amazing friend, one who I met through this very blog. The day I told her about my ankle…was pretty much the day I asked if she wanted to run the half marathon…(back in September, people…I’m not that cruel!)…and she called and said that was not a conversation to be had over text. How many friends do that anymore? She’s one in a million…and she took my bib and ran for me. She even had the announcer say that as she crossed the finish line. You can read about that in her blog here.
Matthew Fondy, baby!! My fav!
That very night, I went over to Slugger Field for the last home match of the night for the inaugural year of Louisville having it’s very own professional soccer team. In the USL Eastern Conference, Louisville City FC hosted the Charleston Battery in the USL Playoff Semifinals. It went into double overtime…but my favorite player, Matthew Fondy, scored twice, giving us the 2-0 lead…and the win that night. Hell of a match. We went up to Rochester, New York to play the Rochester Rhinos for the USL Eastern Conference finals…and lost 0-1, ending our season. Which sucks…but I couldn’t be prouder of the team. And the fan support has been amazing for this soccer team. Makes me proud to fly the purple and gold of Louisville City FC.
I pause briefly here to say…sometimes ugly medals make missing a race worthwhile. Another one gone by and me still locked into a boot. UGH. Yeah…this year has been rough.
BUT…instead of racing, I got to spend Saturday afternoon with my parents who were visiting Lexington, Kentucky, for a work function of my dad’s. So…that was fun. I walked around this big trade show. Got to catch up with my parental units. And it was a good day. We did a little bit of shopping after the show closed and went and got dinner at my favorite Italian trattoria, which has a huge gluten-free menu. I always get the Pasta Arrabiata though. LOL! It’s spicy good! I hated to say goodbye to my parents, but they had the drive back to Birmingham to make and I needed to get back up to Louisville.
Mom, Me, and Dad in Lexington, KY!
And this week…just as crazy. Saturday I have a couple of events I’m hitting up…one of which involves hitting up the Fleur de Flea in Louisville with my neighbor, Michelle (YAY!). I love flea markets…and on top of that…my favorite gluten-free crepe food truck, Sweet ‘N Savory, will be dishing up some deliciousness. That, my friends, makes me happy. They are nearing the end of their season which will leave me crepeless until April. The other big thing is the amazing Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular at Iroquois Park in Louisville that night with Amanda!! So excited. We did this event last year and had a blast. How people do all of that with a pumpkin is beyond me!! It’s awesome. So, if you live in the Louisville area, make a point to go while it’s there. TOTALLY worth it.
And Sunday…I have my first official appointment with my swimming coach I hired. Why hire a swimming coach? Well, it occurred to me that, despite having spent the better part of this year in the pool due to various injuries…my swimming is not improving. It all comes down to technique and I have 5 sessions with him, which he says he can easily fix the issue. He’s a 2 time Olympian in swimming too. Which…is really kind of cool. I’m a bit nervous though, as our first session is going to be a double…2 hours in the pool. Whew. I’ll be one tuckered out little mermaid for sure. But, I really do think this will help in the long run, as I intend to keep swimming as part of my cross training. Might as well get all the kinks worked out so I can perform more efficiently.
NuttZo Organic 7 Nut + Seed Butter (Available in Smooth & Crunchy in all 3 flavors: Original, Power Fuel, and Chocolate)
On top of that, yesterday I found out that I was selected to be a NuttZo Ambassador! Oh yeah!! If there is one thing I love more than cookies and sweets…it’s peanut butter. And NuttZo is more than peanut butter. It is, quite honestly, the next big thing in nut butter. NuttZo is a gourmet 7 nut + seed butter, which the creators have deemed “the healthiest, most unique superbutter on the planet.” And it’s true. NuttZo is quite unique in their own way, offering up three flavors, in both crunchy and smooth, all of which contain 7 nuts + seeds in each blend. It was love at first taste for me, and my jar didn’t last long. My nut-butter loving self has never tasted anything else quite like this. To say I’m in love is an understatement. But, I am quite proud to be an athlete ambassador of this amazing product. If you haven’t tried it yet…DO SO! I first discovered it shining down from the very top shelf of the Louisville Whole Foods…the upside down jar with the right-side-up label. You can’t miss it. You can also order online…and I highly encourage this!
And in two weeks, my mom and dad are coming up to visit and we’re going to venture up to Indianapolis together for the Gluten Free Food Allergy Expo. As my mom and I are both Celiacs…this is an exciting venture. I’m pretty excited about it because my parents haven’t actually come to visit me since Thanksgiving 2010. So, it’s long overdue. I’m taking them to a city they’ve never been to. And my mom and I can share all the knowledge we gain from this event. I went last year and LOVED it. Spent way too much money, but used every single item I bought. I will also be out of the boot by then, so that’s a huge plus!
And…from there I just work hard at full recovery and getting back into running…this time minus the injuries. I know my hip will never heal, but I was just getting used to it when the fracture happened. So…back to square one. Literally. I’ve done SO little running this year it is beyond depressing. That being said, I’m going to focus a lot more on the half marathon distance and…as far as marathons go…I’ll focus more on quality rather than quantity.
As you can see, since being booted I’ve done anything but just sit around and feel sorry for myself. That’s not to say I don’t have my fair share of meltdowns. Usually on what was to be a race day. The biggest one being the night before my birthday. Thankfully, I have a lot of great people in my life who help me get through even some of the rougher days.
So…eight more days to freedom…and we roll from there.
Me at the start of the Kicking Butt 5K Run/Walk – Louisville, KY
Race: Kicking Butt 5K Run/Walk
Place: Louisville, Kentucky
Date: August 22, 2015
Time: 25:01
It is that time again and that time of year. Yep. My comeback.
*SIGH*
Okay…you know, I have to actually look at the positive on this one. The hip labrum tear could have been so much worse and if that had been the case, this race would have not happened this year. So…there it is. Not to say I wasn’t in full-on panic mode…but this race means a lot to me as it does benefit research for colon cancer prevention, a disease that took my Aunt Debbie. And so, yeah, this one is an important one.
The first thing you will note is that this year, this race has a new name. The Colon Cancer Prevention Project (or as Cathy likes to call it C²P²) renamed the race this year from the very long and awkward “Walk Away From Colon Cancer & 5K Run” to the “Kicking Butt 5K Run/Walk.” I love the change, personally. And, despite what people have said, this race is not geared more toward walkers. There are a ton of runners that show up for this one, many of whom are some of Louisville’s best.
So…this is how it stands. I have been running at a very leisurely pace (comparatively to where I used to be) for just over a month now. I only run 3 days a week, 2 days during the week and one long slow distance run on the weekends. I’ve been working with a certified Coach, Linda Word, who developed a training plan that incorporates enough cross-training and cardio that is not running to keep me sane, at least. So…there is that. Am I happy about a 3 day running week…to be honest, I thought I would hate it. I really did. But so far, it’s been easy on my body and has allowed progress to really start to come through. I sometimes run faster…sometimes slower…than my prescribed 9:00/mile training pace. But it’s never by too much…and it varies on each day I run depending on how my hip is feeling.
So, after doing a 5K race in Birmingham a few weeks ago with my sister…where I stuck with her and got her to the finish line at her pace…this was the first official race back for me. As in…my coach gave me permission to push my pace if I was feeling good. And, I was both nervous and excited at the prospect. I think I was nervous up until the car pulled into the parking lot at Iroquois Park in Louisville. With all the health tents and the other booths set up for this race, I started to feel right at home. My favorite local food truck, Sweet ‘N’ Savory, was on hand as well with their gluten-free crepes and smoothies. They were the first thing I spotted as we drove in and it totally lifted my spirits. Funny how the promise of gluten-free food at the end of a race just makes you feel a little more confident about everything, right?
The morning was a little chilly, but I knew that it was going to warm up fast. I shed the tanktop I was wearing at the car, opting for being the sports bra runner that I am on warmer days. I think I was one of the few brave enough to do that. I don’t care that I don’t have nice abs (I’d love to have them!), this was more about being comfortable. And I am not comfortable in lots of extra fabric when it gets warm outside. Therefore, despite the low humidity and low 60s temperature…sports bra was it. And, I really didn’t get too chilly just mulling about before the pre-race programming. I went and said “HI” to Richard and Ashley at Sweet ‘N’ Savory and told them we’d see them after I ran. This meant my plans to go to my local gluten-free bakery were now…changed. I still went, to retrieve the allergen free toaster treats I had them hold for me…but not for breakfast as planned. Today, not only was I running to help raise money for colon cancer research and prevention…I was running for that delicious sounding peach crepe.
HA!
With that being said, I went over to the stage area where the employees and volunteers of the Colon Cancer Prevention Project were doing their opening ceremonies, talking about what research is being done in the fight against this curable disease, and then bringing out Louisville’s own “Semi-Colon” (aka: Caleb Payne, who had just returned from a 5-month journey along the Appalachian Trail) to speak a little about his accomplishment and how being a colon cancer survivor has changed him. Then, they did the survivor recognition, complete with cheerleaders this year. This is always such an uplifting and emotional ceremony.
And once the recognition was given for survivors and the top fund raisers and fund raising teams…it was time to officially kick some butt on the hills of Iroquois Park. Cathy walked me over to the starting area, where a crowd was already forming. For some reason, all nerves I thought I’d have were gone. I just took a couple of deep breaths…and received a good luck hug. She went up a little ways past the start with my sign…and I got into the crowd of runners near the front. I was up front the last time I ran this race, but I was nowhere near in shape or in any condition to run like that this time around. I was greeted by the amazingly fast, Lynn Riedling, and our little conversation and good lucks were all we had time for. She was off at the horn with all the other amazing runners, walkers, and survivors. I gave a wave to Cathy as I went past, being left in the dust by a lot of people.
But, hey, this was more about the race than the pace. And my hip was feeling amazing.
I will now mention that while my hip was feeling amazing, I woke up on Saturday with a rather tender ankle. No clue what happened with it as I didn’t turn it or anything. But…it was tender…and still is to this day. A little puffy. But, it didn’t really bother me while I was running, so that is a good thing.
Anyway…back to the race. One of the first things that happens in this race, or any race that starts at the amphitheater of Iroquois Park, is that you go up a hill. I wanted to push it, but also conserve some energy for…you know…pushing it more, especially at the end. Comeback races are hard. You walk a very fine line and it’s scary to push beyond it. But, as I rounded the corner and went up…up…and up in that first mile, my legs felt strong, and I even managed to pass a few people. That was exciting!
At least at Iroquois Park, where there are uphills there are downhills. If you are training for a hilly race, this is the park to run in, for sure. This was the simple loop, not the hard dash up to the top like I did back in January. And it was agreeing with me today. It was like something switched off in my body, and if anything was supposed to or going to hurt…it wasn’t. Not from the start. Not any of that. Warming up with walking and stretching probably helped, but here I was, feeling semi-fast…and really good as I moved past the first mile.
Mile 2 is the killer on this loop at the park. The downhills, I tended to ease up on my pace and let my legs and momentum carry me, because I’m just trying to run smart and happy these days. BUT…that being said, those uphills were my time to push and challenge myself. I also discovered that my hip does better on uphills than on downhills, currently. So…hey…good to know. Mile 2 is packed with uphills. Some small, some big, and one that just feels like it goes on forever. In my mind, I kept telling myself to focus on my form, push off my toes, and just to stay comfortable. And with all of that going on, my second mile ticked off, slower than my first, but hills do that to me, even when I try to push them a little.
Into the last stretch I went…and still feeling good, I picked up my pace again. Just a little. I also know that there is one last hill that gets me every time, near the end of the race. The first time I ran this race, I walked the hill. I haven’t walked it since, and I didn’t have to walk it this year. It does feel like it never ends though, and pushing it on that one is a mental challenge and a physical challenge. But I stayed the course. And once I conquered it…I knew it was time to finish this race strong.
And so, I just ran. I focused on my core, my form, and how my body was responding to each push-off from the pavement. Nothing twinged. Not once. I could now hear the roar of the crowd at the finish line. It is an amazing sound to hear at a little 5K, but this race brings it every time. As I came into the final stretch, I could hear Cathy screaming at me. “GO TWIN! GO!!!” She normally does this, but there was an urgency in the tone. Turns out, another female runner was hot on my heels, trying to pass me up. I didn’t know. I didn’t look. I just ran as hard as I dared and crossed that finish line.
My Garmin said 25:03. Not my best 5K by far…not even my best time at this race (I ran 2013 in 22:45)…but not my worst 5K time either. And definitely an accomplishment for someone who went for 7 months of no running (I don’t count the Boston Marathon as I ended up hobbling and walking most of it!) to easing back into a running routine that was made, specifically, to get me back out there without causing further damage.
Cathy came over and asked me how I was. I told her that I was fine…but the race was hard. She said I was about the 11th female to finish, so it was possible that I might have placed in my age division. Possible…maybe so. So, we walked around to keep my body loose and limber and then went and grabbed some gluten-free crepes from Sweet ‘N’ Savory. I got the Peaches crepe…which was SO amazing. It came with gelato, and they were kind enough to give me their dairy-free one. It was strawberry. I split it with Cathy. Cathy, for the record, got the breakfast crepe. I thought about doing that one…but eggs were not sounding tasty at the moment. Sweet peaches, however, did. YUMMY!! With crepes made, we went and settled in to eat, then move around a little more while waiting on the awards. This was where a gentleman spotted me and said, “I know you! I read your blog on this race!” HA! That totally made my morning. We stood around for a bit and talked about running and upcoming races…but it was nearing time for the awards, so we parted ways with well-wishes and all.
Long story short…I came in 4th in my age division. So, things are pretty much back to normal. HA! Missed it by a mile (or just under 2 minutes) though. Lynn, however, was listed as being 35 years old…which is not true…but it wouldn’t have affected my placement regardless. And in the end…I walked away with the satisfaction of well-run comeback (again) race.
Me after finishing (strong!) the Kicking Butt 5K Run/Walk – Louisville, KY
So, the results of the Kicking Butt 5K Run/Walk are that I finished in 25:01. No new PR…no course record…but a strong finish. I was 48/970 finishers overall, 11/577 female finishers, and I was 4/63 in my age division. I’m happy with these results, honestly. Considering how much I hate 5Ks (I am NOT a sprinter), it was a challenge just getting to this start line. I put in a lot of time, stretching, and tears to get to a point where I could race again, and this race certainly showed me what I was capable of…and where I can definitely improve.
And, as always, the Kicking Butt 5K Run/Walk is dedicated to the memory of my Aunt Debbie. Already looking forward to coming back and running it again next year.
So, on a hot and humid Saturday morning…I went out and ran for a good cause…and had a good time. Already looking forward to next year! It’s for a great cause…and I couldn’t imagine missing it. Not ever.
Me (on the left) and Karla (on the right) crossing the finish line at the Foam Glow 5K – Birmingham, AL
Race: Foam Glow 5K
Place: Birmingham, Alabama
Date: August 8, 2015
Time: 39:51
Everyone remembers their first 5K…or their first race for that matter. It’s special. You go in with your own goals and expectations, not exactly sure what to expect, and not exactly sure how you’ll do when all is said and done. The first race is an important one, I believe – no matter what distance it is.
Just before I got my go-ahead to return to running, I found out via a phone call that my sister had taken up running. She goes out a couple times a week with her Couch25K program and her group of ladies…and runs. She will tell you she’s not fast…and she struggles…but she loves the company and the way she feels (despite some knee issues, which I helped clear up with KT Tape and getting her into proper shoes!) after she runs. She was training for a 5K with her friends. YAY! The only thing that was difficult for her was that she’d be pretty much running it on her own. Her pace is a little more deliberate than the girls she runs with, so she is often left to run on her own on training runs, and the race night would be the same.
When I got cleared to run, it also turned out the race coincided with a weekend where I had nothing else planned. And so…I talked it over with her, signed up for the race, and made arrangements to be in Birmingham to run WITH her at the race. I gave her the rules…her race, her pace. I’d stick by her side the entire time. She was more than okay with this. And, just to be cutesy, we started working on matching running outfits so we could be twinsies too! She ordered the shirt and I picked up matching shorts, knee-high socks, and said she had to have pigtails in, as that is the hairstyle I am best known for when I run. HA!
So, in the weeks leading up to the 5K, I was slowly adding on the minutes, then the miles to my runs. I had topped out at 7 miles in my friend’s very flat neighborhood the weekend before, and was a little sore afterwards, but nothing that really slowed me down. After work on Friday, I grabbed dinner (gluten-free peanut butter & jelly with grapes and a piece of dark chocolate) to eat on the road, and the roomie and I piled into the car (which was stuffed with my mountain bike that was just sitting on my balcony and that my sister could get some use out of) and made the trek down to Birmingham, Alabama…arriving a little later than planned (it took the roomie 30 minutes to use the bathroom at a gas station, I kid you not!), but getting in. Of course, I was up late just getting caught up with my parents (my mom had just recently broken her hand), but we were all winding down regardless. I climbed into bed around 11 p.m. CST (that’s midnight my time!) and set an alarm on my phone to wake me up at 5 a.m. so that I could get dressed, stretch, eat a little something and then get outside as it was getting light out to fit in the 8 miles ahead of the 5K that my coach had me scheduled to run.
I did just that…and it wasn’t easy. My parents’ neighborhood is just…HILLS!! So, I ran the first two miles easy and got warmed up, then wound my way through their neighborhood up to the walking trail. And there was where a majority of the run took place. Just as I was cresting the top of the start point, I heard a rumble, which, I thought might be thunder, but I was so close to the road, it could have been a car too. I figured it was a car…and I was off.
I was also wrong. It was thunder. And rain soon followed. And I was, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere, on this paved path that ran through Helena, Alabama. There is something about me running at my parents house and having it rain on me. It happens…all the time. Must be the Frankfort (Kentucky) affect. And if you don’t get that reference, you haven’t been reading my blog long enough (it storms/rains/precipitates every time I run in Frankfort, KY). So, I kept going, made it back to the start, and was greeted with a gorgeous rainbow flying high over a church. It was awesome. And I took a picture before winding my way back to their house for the last mile of my run. I ducked inside, took a shower, ate some breakfast, stretched…and then my sister came over with her kiddliewinks.
And it all got chaotic and fun. Karla (that’s my sis, btw) and her boys all tried the gluten-free strawberry breakfast cake I brought with me (my parents devoured it too!)…then we made a run to the grocery store for some necessities for the race and for lunch. Back home, where we got everyone ready to go and eat lunch at my roommate’s favorite spot, The Depot, in Pelham, Alabama. My mom and I had veggie burgers we prepared at home with some gluten-free pretzels. It was the big meal of the day as the race was at night and I didn’t want to run on a full belly. After lunch, my dad, Cathy and I hit up 2nd & Charles (bookstore), then made our way back to the house so that Karla and I could start getting dressed.
And that’s when the rain returned. Big monsoon as she and I climbed upstairs to my room to get into our matching running outfits. We checked the weather and it looked like it was going to pass…so that was good. After we got dressed, I put her hair in these tiny little pigtails, then did my own, strapped my Garmin onto my wrist, and we went downstairs so that Cathy could work some KT Tape magic on Karla’s troublesome knee. This was where I got to play with the cutest baby girl…as my sister’s youngest isn’t quite 1 yet.
With everything in order, and Karla’s hubby (that’s Bryan…who once ran a 5K with me) told me he approved of the tight running pants I selected for his wife to wear, we were climbing into their car (as in Bryan, Karla, Cathy, the two boys, and me) to make the over an hour drive to Talladega Speedway, which is where the race was actually being held. Well, we were dropping off vehicles at Cracker Barrel and then carpooling to Talladega. The boys needed some dinner, so it was Happy Meals at McDonalds (Cathy got one too!), and then…to the parking area of the race.
The Sole Sisters…and no, we didn’t actually plan to line up by shirt color. That just sort of happened!
Parking was super-easy, but expensive. A whole $10. Really?! Cathy footed the bill and Bryan got us parked right on the end of one of the rows. It would make finding the car in the dark a whole lot easier, for sure. We were some of the first ones here, as in of the group of ladies running, all of whom my sister trains with at some point. Two others were there before us, and Karla got us to where they were and introduced me to them. So, now I knew Margie and Lauren…(and yes, we were asked if we were twins!) and the rest were all a blur as they all began to arrive prior to the start. My sister and I decided to eat our protein bars early (that was our dinner), and split one if we got hungry between then and race time. After I devoured my bar, I actually got to meet up with a friend of mine (who I used to work with), Julie Hayes, who was walking the 5K with a friend of hers.
As the rest of the group arrived, along with the ring leader, Jenn, we departed for group shots and then…the most important part…hitting up the big foam pit.
Yep…after all…this was the Foam Glow 5K. And you can’t have a Foam Glow 5K without foam and blacklights. The sun was only just beginning to set, so the blacklights weren’t on yet…but the foam was being shot out these giant cannons. It was a lot of fun, stepping inside the staging area and just getting blasted with this soapy, foamy mess. The kids (most of the ladies brought their families!) absolutely LOVED it. I loved it. What a blast. After getting foamed up pretty good, it was back out to the group to get any last minute touches to our outfits. Jenn gave each of us the little bright yellow stripes under our eyes. We were now ready…for the race.
Until my sister’s 8 year old son went missing. YIKES!! He separated from the rest of the kids, who had all come running back to where we were from the foam. Karla was, naturally, in a panic so I went to the foam pit to find him. And I did, relatively quickly, getting him back over to his parents and saving the day! With that bit of hysteria out of the way, Karla was now in a good place to enjoy her first 5K and her first race. Whew.
And that was that…the sun had gone down…the wind had gone away, and the ladies in the crazy bright tank tops with the words, “We Don’t Sweat, We Glow!” on them all started toward the start area. The race was going off in waves, it it felt like only 20 people were going at a time. Once we got closer, we realized that wasn’t the case, but at least 10 waves went off ahead of us, and we were relatively close to the front. Karla, myself and Margie were actually corralled ahead of the rest of our group, so we ducked under the rope and rejoined our group. The group ahead of us was off…and we moved forward.
Karla looked so calm. She was smiling. She was joking around. She was relaxed. That was awesome. And, then, with a small countdown…the emcees at the race sent off our wave. And Karla was leading us off. She fell right into the pace, getting a little sucked into a first start with all the excitement, but that’s fine. That’s okay. We hit the dark course and she looked like a pro, already dodging and weaving through any more deliberate runners or the walkers that went ahead of us. I even told her she was already running like a pro. And, to take her mind off of the task at hand, I would frequently bother her with inane questions about how she felt, how her pace felt, how her knee felt…
At one point, I thought that the race people were sending us up the stairs to the speedway itself, but it was just people doing photo-ops. Karla kept us on course and we headed into what was going to be the first (of three) Foam Zones. This was a bit refreshing as the night had grown humid and the wind had died. So, the first one, we bounded through together and kept on trekking. Karla asked about distance and my 1 mile beep went off on my watch. I let her know that the beeps meant we hit a mile, so she had 2 more of them. She didn’t look amused.
Me and Karla in the big Foam Pit following the Foam Glow 5K – Birmingham, AL
This course was not easy. You pretty much get sent up a hill near the start, which is fine, but when it’s dark and you’re not expecting it…yeah. Well, I was there with Karla to give her some hints about how to properly run hills (Lord knows I’ve run my share of them!), such as push off on your toes, power up them with your arms, and take shorter steps. She listened and did really well. And when we got to the top, I congratulated her on a job well done. As we headed toward Mile 2, I hear “GO KAREN AND KARLA!” and it’s Julie! We threw our hands up in the same way (not planned…twinsies, you know!)…and continued on. At the halfway point, they were handing out water bottles. I asked Karla if she wanted water and she shook her head and said she just wanted to keep going. I snagged one just in case and we were back to bobbing and weaving and avoiding treacherous pavement on the dark path (seriously…some lights on the course would have been nice!). We hit the second Foam Zone and Karla, putting safety above all, decided to walk through the soapy sludge. Good call. The instant she was through, she picked her pace back up and we continued on. We were coming around the back part of the speedway, I think, and she slowed a little just to catch her breath. I handed her the bottle of water and she took a sip. Then, she passed it back, took a few breaths and picked her walk back up into a run. She was really making me proud. The second mile beeped on my watch.
One more mile. I told her as much. And the path seemed to be getting more treacherous. Karla twisted her ankle twice, but kept on going. I tripped on uneven pavement…but somehow, we were managing to stay on our feet. We were hitting up the final Foam Zone, which we walked through again, and when she picked back up to her run, I knew we had to be getting close. I checked my watch…and I figured from the pace she had been running that she had about six minutes left of the race.
“Six minutes,” I told her. “You can do anything for six minutes, right?”
“YES!” she said.
I taught all the girls my Power Pose for the end of the race! Foam Glow 5K…DONE!
Jenn caught up to us as we were nearing the Mile 3 mark, giving Karla a firm smack on the ass. We were so close. I would give Karla minute increments on how much longer she had…and I heard some walkers repeat it. They’d be out there a bit longer since they were walking (hehe). I told Karla that when we saw the finish line, we were going to sprint for it and cross it together. Well, I could hear the music at the finish, so we were definitely getting close. With encouragement, Karla lifted her head and put on her game face, focusing on her form and getting to that finish line. The blacklights were in view. The music was pumping…and I reached out and took her hand. For the last .1 miles, we ran together, holding hands, until we crossed that finish line. I paused my Garmin and there it was…Karla’s first 5K race…her pace…DONE…in a fantastic 39:15.
I gave her a huge hug and told her how proud I was of her. Those of us who were done stood around and took some fun pictures, drank lukewarm water, and just had a jolly good time. We were waiting on the remainder of the group, and once they crossed…it was after party time.
The husbands and kids were already living it up at the after party. Bryan was covered in foam when I saw him next. And that was exactly where the rest of us were heading. It was humid and hot and sticky, and the foam pit was cooling, a bit messy, a lot wet, and a whole lot of fun. I have never been so soapy in my life…and I love a good lather as much as the next girl. I hurt from smiling and laughing so much. I’d get all this foam sprayed all over me…manage to shake it off and wipe it away, only to get plastered from another canon on the other side of the staging area.
Honestly…it was a blast.
And afterwards, as things were wrapping up, the ladies returned to the cooler where I had packed Pink Salad for everyone to enjoy as a treat post-race. We were messy, soapy, and happy. We enjoyed our refreshing treat, which Karla graciously scooped up for everyone, and then…we all departed to head home. I had so much fun meeting these wonderful ladies who have drawn my sister into my world of running.
And I felt incredibly special to have been able to run her very first 5K with her.
Karla’s eldest son was spent, and he fell asleep on the way home, just after our gas station stop for some cold water. Her youngest was playing his Nintendo DS, but he was fading. As we pulled into Cracker Barrel, we said our goodbyes…and I once again told Karla how proud I was of her and how much fun I had. I was leaving early Sunday morning to head back to Louisville…so this was our goodbye.
I have to say…despite the path not being lit, the crush of walkers with the runners, and the uneven pavement…despite all of that, I had such a great time. Being able to run with my sister in her first race meant the world to me. She told me, “I’m slow.” And I told her…it didn’t matter. All-in-all, she had a great pace, and looked like a natural out there. I was truly blessed with the opportunity to see her through this run, meet the ladies who she goes out and runs with, and just have a fun experience that didn’t have me freaking out or tense prior to the start. There is something to be said about doing things with people you love.
Karla…Thank you for letting me take part in the Foam Glow 5K with you and allowing me to accompany you on your very first 3.1 mile run. Keep on running. I am so proud of you and can’t wait to see how you improve and where this road takes you!!
Sunset, foam, and blacklights – FOAM GLOW 5K – Birmingham, AL
Never Give Up!Sometimes, no matter how closely you follow the recovery rules…your body mechanics catch up with you. And that…has happened to me.
And it’s pretty devastating. If you’re a runner…you get it. If not…you’ll probably find me a bit dramatic. Hell, you might find me that way regardless…but what it comes down to is…my body is fighting back.
It all started in January. After I ran the Charleston Marathon, I took a good bit of time off to properly recover. I had been running myself ragged (literally) over the past year, and instead of my usual 1 week off from all activity, I took a bit longer. But, one morning, I woke up and had a very unhappy lower back. The left side of my back was sore…to press on and to move. I took further time off (because you shouldn’t mess around with the back, honestly). And then…the hip pain happened…
…and then the hip pain didn’t go away. It was so much that it was hard to even walk. No running at all. After waiting an additional two weeks (missing a marathon due to weather too), I went to see a sports orthopedic doctor. Xrays turned up nothing…which was good. So, he sent me to physical therapy, which I started that same week.
My physical therapists are awesome. I started off with Emily Bullerdick, PT, DPT. And she took much of the first session to assess what was going on. Turns out, I have a locked lower back. AH…back to that lower back. The entire lower back didn’t want to move, so the rest of my body…shoulders and hips, were trying to balance it out by overcompensating. Okay…I was given some back exercises and scheduled for 4 sessions in the following two weeks. I went…I did exercises twice a day at home…I even did them at work…and I wasn’t feeling any better. Emily was off one day the following week, so I got to meet with another PT. This time I met with Steven Hnat PT, DP. He took a look at Emily’s notes and plugged away at some of what she had me doing. Then, tried a little more, working with my nerves. He mentioned dry needling and gave me some information on that. I looked it over and got scheduled for a regular PT appointment and a dry needling appointment the following week.
Dry needling…is painful. It really is. It is also known as Intramuscular Manual Therapy (IMT)/Trigger Point Dry Needling (TDN) and is a modern Western medical modality. Dry Needling is a treatment technique which uses these small filament type needles to release tight muscles with the goal of permanently reducing muscle pain and dysfunction. With DN, the needle alone and its effects on the tissue is the treatment. Physical therapists are now using this technique around the world to effectively treat acute and chronic orthopedic and musculoskeletal conditions. . My first (yes…first) session, Steven did dry needling in my thigh, my hip, and along my IT band. The IT band needles he hooked up to an E-stim, which sent pulses of current through the needles and into the knotted muscles. THAT…didn’t feel good at all. But I did get a bit of relief from it.
The next week was a follow up with my doctor…and as the pain was subsiding he told me to enjoy Boston and to get some running in. Emily said the same thing, and before leaving that day, she put me on the treadmill to do some light running. I kept an easy pace and managed a relatively pain-free 1 mile. The next day, I went over to the gym and attempted two. I was fine while running, but when I was done, I was just sore. It was hard to go down the stairs to do some of my post-run stretches. And then, that weekend, I set out to do a short run on Saturday morning, and my body hated ever step. I managed a mile and spent the rest of the day in excruciating pain. Back to the orthopedic doctor I went…
And that was when the MRI was ordered.
I continued my physical therapy sessions, having one with the actual stretching and another round of dry needling. This time Steven hit up my hip again, but did the E-stim to my lower back. That was the most not-fun thing I’ve done in a long time. I was pretty sore after that for the rest of the week. Not in my hip…but in my back. I continued to do my exercises until I decided they weren’t doing much for the problem…and stopped. I literally just stopped doing anything.
My MRI was on Tuesday afternoon. My follow-up was on Wednesday (also the 2 year anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombings…and tax day…but…well…). So, the fate of the Boston Marathon I earned now hung in the results of an MRI. My orthopedic doctor came in and pulled up the images. And there…at the top of my hip joint, he pointed out the smallest of soft-tissue tears. It was an anterior labrum tear. Super small…but that was the reason for all the pain.
This, by the way, is a very common injury with active women…especially in their 30s. Weird, I know. But it’s because we have these things called HIPS! What caused this? It wasn’t overuse…because I hadn’t been doing anything when the pain occured. Turns out that chronically and habitually tight muscles around joints can cause a lack of joint mobility, which, over time, too much compression on those joints can cause structural damage…most commonly labral tears. This is especially true in young athletes. Even sitting too much at a computer or in a car can cause habituated muscle tension that won’t go away. I also have a tilted pelvis which made the soft tissue rub against the joint and bring on the tear sooner as well. Ah…body mechanics.
Sitting for long periods of time has always been a problem for me. What this comes down to is the tightness of my lower back through everything else out of whack. Tie that in with my habitually tight and short hamstrings, and this was basically a problem I was going to face 10 years down the road regardless of whether I was active or not. It happened to me sooner, rather than later, however.
Am I doing Boston? I am. I have been given permission to run/walk the Boston Marathon as I feel. I was injected with a Cortisone shot on Wednesday as well. I spent much of yesterday in a great deal of pain from that, but that is wearing off now, thank God. Upon returning from what will likely be my worst marathon ever…I am going to start working on getting this all fixed. No surgery. But lots of hip and core strengthening. And, we will go from there.
Is this the Boston Marathon that I wanted? Not one bit. While I had every intention of not racing here…but just having a good run and drinking in the experience…this was not the result that I wanted. BUT…at least I can go there and have my race. Maybe one day I’ll be back to the runner I used to be. This isn’t going to stop me…it just my hinder and slow me down for awhile.
I do want to say, I did get quite a bit of love and support from people throughout this ordeal, checking in on me, asking how my pain was doing…and letting me know that they missed seeing me out there. That was nice to know I had that kind of support because being down with an injury is so isolating. People forget about you…and when you aren’t around…they don’t think to call or text to check in on you. So, the fact that every now and again, my friends and running mates did, helped. A lot.
So…Boston is going to be a painful ordeal, I believe. But, whether it takes me 4 or 8 hours to get to that finish line…I will cross it. Proudly. Probably in tears. And then…I’ll work on getting better.
Think of me on Monday, friends. I’ll need all the support I can get.
It’s no secret anymore…nor was it after runners crossed that finish line on Saturday…the Charleston Marathon ran…long. Yes. Long. My Garmin showed me running exactly 26.69 miles when I crossed the finish line. It has been all over the news about the marathon that went long when the lead car took us down the wrong road and added, according to the official measurements on the tangents, an additional .1918 of a mile to the course. (Yep, I was almost exactly .5 over! But you take the official measurement of almost .2 miles).
Anyway, the race directors of the Charleston Marathon have adjusted all of the finisher’s times to reflect what would have been had the course not gone long. So, my new official time for the Charleston Marathon is:
3:39:05
I am very pleased with this result, as I was when I finished on the longer course. I went into this race not to race it, but to use it as a training run. Time on my feet. No goals. No must-hit time. Just relax and run. Magic!
Me crossing the finish line of the Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina
Race: Charleston Marathon
Place: Charleston, South Carolina
Date: January 17, 2015
Time:3:40:54
First race of the year. Why not make it a marathon, right? Right! Actually, I had this one on the radar since last year…so, I was very excited to finally register for it (which I did late…like in December…whoops!). I already had a place to stay (thanks Janet Dailey!) and two amazing tour guides (shout-out to Richie and Amanda!) who spend as much time as they can in Charleston, South Carolina, taking out any sort of travel apprehension because…they know everything! So things were definitely falling into place.
The only thing that wasn’t was, naturally, my foot. It had been doing so well, but the week before the race, my plantar fasciitis decided it wanted to flare up again. Not the foot that caused me issues this past summer. Original foot. The one with the plantar issue to begin with. I think I need to get some new shoes…because I have worn the hell out of both pairs that I am wearing currently.
Anyway, I’d continued to train, easing up on pace and doing my speed work slower. And it seemed that after the first two miles, it stopped hurting. I didn’t tempt fate though…just did what I could while maintaining my training. Foot was no bueno…but it wasn’t knocking me out. Nope. I could still run. Granted 7 treadmill miles is definitely different from 26.2 miles on the road (tready running is VERY different from road running…and I prefer the road!), but for now I’m keeping speed work inside on the treadmill. Most of my runs leading up to this marathon have been indoors due to the extreme cold. Call me a wimp, but once the temps fall below 20 degrees, I don’t consider it safe for my body to be out running, even if it is a couple of miles. My longest run leading into this race was back before Christmas…14 miles…after that, nothing went over 10. Not the best way to train, but I think subconsciously, I was ignoring the fact that I signed up for a marathon.
That’s what happens when you deal with a debilitating injury for 3 months. You get…a little nervous. Nevermind that I ran the TCS NYC Marathon back in November. I have a goal this year to make it out injury free. I’m doing what I can to maintain that goal. So, definitely under-trained for this one, for sure.
On Friday, I got up and did an easy 3-mile shakeout, still babying the foot. I wasn’t worried about speed. I went outside and just did 3 miles. Home, shower, breakfast, finish packing, and then Cathy and I went to work. We weren’t there long. Only for a few hours, to close out accounts and enter as much as we could before the clock hit 10:30 a.m. Then, we were out the door, to the bank, and then on the way to the Louisville airport. Parked the car, headed inside. I checked my bag, praying that it would get to Charleston as it had all my race gear in it (I know…never do that, but I had no choice!), and we got into the security line. I was randomly selected to do TSA Pre-Screen…which meant I got the shorter security line, didn’t have to take off my shoes, my hoodie, or remove my laptop from my backpack. LOVE IT! Cathy was not as fortunate, and it took her quite a bit longer to navigate the regular TSA security line. But, she eventually made it through. We got to our gate and she went to grab some loaded baked potato soup from Chili’s and grabbed me a fruit cup. We ate lunch and polished it all off just before we had to board the plane. Good timing! Our first stop was Atlanta…ugh. We were also boarding in Zone 3…and had a feeling Cathy would have to check her bag due to lack of overhead space. She did…but at least she got to do it for free. It would meet us in Charleston as well. With that done, we hopped on our flight and found our seats.
First stop…Atlanta. Very brief stop at that. We had long enough to get off the plane, go to the train, take it from A to B gates…find our gate…go to the bathroom…eat a snack bar…and then get ready to board. At least we had time for that. We took our seats, took flight…and read until we hit the runway at the Charleston International Airport. The airport was really small for being an international hub, but we made our way to Baggage Claim…got our luggage than headed to Enterprise for the rental car. Longest line ever. For real. It took us longer to get a rental car than it did to do anything else in any of the airports that day. None of the other car rental places had lines, but we had already reserved a car with Enterprise, and we trust Enterprise. So…we stuck it out. Finally, it was our turn and we ended up with a Hyundai Elantra. We went out to retrieve said car, piled our stuff inside, and made our way to Burke High School for the Health & Fitness Expo and Packet Pick-up. It took us about 15 minutes to navigate to the high school, following horrible Google Map directions. But, we made it…parked…and had to walk all the way around the building to get inside the area where the expo was being held.
That being said…we made it. I immediately headed over to the packet pickup for the full marathon. I got out my wallet to show my ID and was just asked for my bib number. This was sent to me via e-mail earlier and was really easy to remember. I replied with “Bib 113.” And they got it down from their system of hanging bibs and handed it to me. No ID check or anything. They said that the t-shirt and bag pick-up were across the auditorium. Awesome. I went down to the end of the table to scan my chip and ensure that it was, indeed, functioning. Then…off I went to retrieve my race shirt and bag. The bag only contained some pamphlets for local businesses and races. The shirt was white with a painting of Rainbow Row houses on it. Gorgeous. I tucked the shirt inside the bag and then went on the hunt for some GU. Luckily the Fleet Feet booth had some for sale, and I snagged 2 Strawberry Banana, 1 Triple Berry, and 1 Mandarin Orange. I had one with me in my luggage…so that would do. After I left, I spotted the rack of CEP Compression Gear…and had noted that I had forgotten my recovery socks…so I went to see if they had anything in my size. They had a pair of black and grey CEP socks…so I went back to the Fleet Feet booth and purchased those as well. HA! They were getting my money for sure. With that done, Cathy went to see where she could get shuttle tickets to get from the start to the finish and then from the finish back to the start (runners got to do this for free)…and I went in search of my NYC Marathon Hard Core Runner buddy, Jennie. We met up near the Community Coffee booth and had hugs all around and discussed how the weather would be chilly, but after NYC…eh…this was nothing. We talked about running, families, training, outfits, and even our injuries. She was doing a run/walk method due to an issue with her back. We hung around and talked and Cathy returned to steal my phone and place a delivery order with the Charleston Mellow Mushroom for a gluten-free and vegan Cosmic Karma pizza for that night. She returned and we talked a bit more with Jennie before we all said goodbye. Cathy and I needed to hit up the local grocery store (and race sponsor), Harris Teeter, for some things for the hotel room (fruit, water, yogurt) and then get to the hotel before the pizza did. So, we left the expo and then headed to the grocery store, following even worse Google Map directions. I got out my cell phone and directed her.
Me with Jennie at the Charleston Marathon Expo! So great to meet one of my Hard Core Runners!
We made it to the Harris Teeter and started loading up a basket with bananas, apples, Greek yogurt, water, and a Sprite Zero. After I run a marathon, it helps calm my stomach. It’s the only time I drink soda anymore. We checked out at the grocery store and hopped back into the car. And went the wrong way to the Lodge Alley Inn, where we were staying. So, we turned around, and just as we pulled up in front of the hotel on East Bay Street, Mellow Mushroom’s delivery guy called. He was outside of the hotel. I told him we just pulled up and he met me on the corner. We did some shady (not really) dealings and I gave him money and tip for the pizza and thanked him very much. Cathy wasn’t sure what to do with the car now that we were there and put on the blinkers and left me standing there with the pizza while she went inside. It took her about 5 minutes…and here I am with a car that was definitely not parked well and all that…just waiting. She returned, said we were good to go, and the valet met us with a cart to put our luggage and groceries on. He then took the keys and went with us up to our room on the third floor. We got inside…got things put down…and gave the valet a tip. He left to go park the car after unloading our stuff. And I put away what needed to go in the fridge. Then, as it was nearing 7 p.m…I said, “Can we eat pizza now? It’s getting SO late.” I don’t like to eat too late when I have a race. I like everything to be digested. So, we went into the living room, turned on Diners, Drive-In’s & Dives, and dove into the pizza. I think I devoured it in record time. It is so much better at the restaurant. With it getting a little cooled off on the delivery and the wait for the room, the crust got a little soggy. MEH. Oh well…I ate it. Fuel for the following morning.
Cathy’s sister and brother-in-law, Amanda and Richie, stopped by after we finished eating to make sure we were settled in. We stood around and talked for awhile, but Amanda said she knew we had an early morning. She said she would try to make it down to the finish, but no promises. I told her no worries either way. Hugs all around and promises of lots of site seeing after I ran. I went to brush my teeth and get into my pajamas so I could climb into bed and zonk out for the night. I didn’t sleep well that night. I kept worrying that the two alarms I set to wake me up for the race wouldn’t go off. And, at some point, Cathy had gotten out of her bed and turned the clock down because it “emitted too much light.” So, as I was tossing and turning, I went to check the time and couldn’t find it. I thought she unplugged it and was now pissed because I couldn’t reassure myself that I wouldn’t oversleep. UGH! The alarm went off a bit later…I got up…did my usual first alarm stuff…then climbed back into bed for less than an hour. More tossing and turning. Second alarm. Up to change and get ready for the race. I never felt so tired and unenthusiastic in my life. I grumbled a bit at her after I woke her up so she could get ready about the clock thing. The next few nights, the clock was left untouched.
We were up…and I ate my serving of cereal, as I often due on race morning. She had a breakfast bar. I filled up my water bottles with my water and electrolyte drinks, tucked my GU packets into pockets, and got pinned up with my race bib. It was 36 degrees that morning and I went back and forth on wearing a tank top or a short sleeve shirt. Given it was in the 30s, I opted for the shirt. I made sure my anklet with wings on it that my mom and dad got me for Christmas was on my ankle, then put on my hat, gloves, and coat. I was as ready as I was going to be. Grabbing two bananas for the road, we headed out. The valet had our car ready and we got inside, heading off to the start line, near where packet pickup was at Burke High School. We parked in one of the nearby parking lots with over an hour in time to spare, so I leaned the seat back and took a nap. Seriously. I was grumpy and tired and my foot had been bugging me slightly, so I said, “Screw it…I’m napping.”
Me taking a nap before the Charleston Marathon
No argument from Cathy, although she took a picture on my phone and put it up on Facebook. HA! She made me open my eyes around 7:15 to get out, stretch, eat my banana, and get acclimated. So…I reluctantly peeled myself out of the car. It was chilly, but not too bad. I walked over to the starting area where runners for both the marathon and half marathon were clustering. Some were being interviewed on camera. Some were talking with friends. I handed Cathy my banana and did some actual stretching. Especially with the foot…although it really didn’t help. Meh. Then, at about 7:30, I ate my banana and then continued to stretch until I decided I was done with that. We then looked around at all the runners, noting that most of them were doing the half marathon. I saw some great running tights that I now need to find and purchase for myself. And I noticed a guy near where I was standing who was going to go running in…sandals. Ouch. But, hey, to each their own.
The announcer said we were getting close to go time and that there were 49 states and 7 countries. The holdout state who didn’t show up…Hawaii. Naturally. Cathy said she was going to go get her spot to watch the start…so she wished me luck and I went to move further back into the pack. My goal for this race was to run it smart, run what I felt, and to run the entire way. With the foot acting up as of late though, I wasn’t sure how much of this I could accomplish. In the end, it’s just about crossing that finish line. No time goal for me…just to run well. I was also dedicating this race to a friend of mine, who I won’t list by name, but simply call her out by her first initial – N – who is going through a rough patch and I wanted to just run this for her.
The Charleston Marathon benefits the arts, so two students of a local school of the arts beautifully sang the National Anthem. And, moments after that…we were told to get ready…and GO!
We were off!
I started my Garmin as I crossed the start line, flashed a wave at Cathy as I ran by, and joined the very crowded start for an easy pace. It had to be an easy pace…which was good. Everything at the start was just crowded with both the marathon and half marathon runners, that it was just a slow start. Perfect. This kept me from going out too fast.
And that sort of set the pace (literally) for the remainder of the race. With one little glitch. After perfectly hitting that first mile, something went wrong. My watch beeped heading into Mile 2…and it was .25 miles further down the road that the mile marker stood. Um…perhaps they were getting a perfect 26 mile marking? I was trying to figure it out, but my brain wasn’t wrapping around it. Ah well…sometimes this happens and it fixes itself later on. I just kept on going. Miles 2 – 3 were spent on the beautiful coat line, with the palmeto trees, the battery, and the gorgeous mansion houses. I was just loving the scenery. Beautiful morning and a beautiful run.
Miles 3 – 9 were all spent on King Street. The first part of King Street being the shops and stores that you would find around most downtowns. There were clutches of people there to cheer on runners. I even noticed a Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams shop just before my watch beeped to Mile 5. I love Jeni’s…
Ahem.
The other half of King Street was more industrial and a lot quieter. Once all the people and the shops were passed…and the houses gone…there was only the industrial district. Granted, there were race volunteers, police, and even entertainment scattered throughout, but much of this was definitely out of the way and going to be a bit of a lull in the small crowd that had been spectating before.
Just before Mile 10 there was the split for the half marathon and full marathon happened. This was slightly confusing as the race official said, “Split after the water station.” It meant…right after the water station. I was running along and both half and full marathoners were weaving over to get the water/Gatorade…and quite a few of us thought that the turn was up ahead where the half marathon continued on. But a race volunteer saw my yellow bib and said, “Full marathon turn here…RIGHT HERE!” Sharp pivot and off I went in the correct direction where some orange cones were set up. This was sort of a gravely area that gave way to broken pavement and then made a bit of a turn to an area that was an old Navy base. It was really fun to run in an area where all the signs said that proper identification was needed to enter. HA! This section of the run was pretty brutal…just because there was no one out there. Up until you make a turn to head out to Cooper River Marina. There was a group of cheerleaders out there as you headed onto the marina. This section was hard because about 3/4 of the way up the marina, there was a sign that had you turn around. Pinpoint turn. One of those turns my friend, Natalie, hates. I hate them too. This totally messed with the cadence and pace I had at the time, but I turned…and then took back off the other way. As we came off the marina, our time chips were read off. This was supposed to be around Mile 11.9…but as we know…I was ahead of the mile markers.
As I was around my halfway point, I saw Jennie, heading toward the old Navy base where I had just come from. We high-fived as we passed and I told her she was doing great. She was. And I hoped I would get to see her at another point. With this being said, let me point out that at this point, we have runners running one way and then the other way…in the same area…without cones up to keep the groups apart. In straightaways, like this part…it was fine. But when you’re trying to make turns on the tangents…this made for a right mess. Seriously. You had runners going opposite ways trying to occupy the same area. It was messy. Just before my watch beeped for Mile 15, we rejoined the half marathon route and headed up towards North Charleston.
Me heading into Mile 18 of the Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina
Just before Mile 16, we branch off once again from the half marathon runners. The half marathon runners kept going straight. The marathon runners turned left onto McMillan Avenue. Now, Cathy had said she was going to try to catch me somewhere between Mile 17 and Mile 18…so I started looking for her as my watch hit Mile 17…and then further up the road…the Mile 17 marker was standing. There were a few clumps of people here and there…but not many. But as I was heading into Mile 18, there she was…under a bridge with a small clump of people. She started yelling, “GO TWIN! GO MY SON!” It was awesome. As she snapped a picture, I flashed some thumbs up and she said, “Come on…look happy!” LOL!! But, it turned out to be a great photo. And as I was heading out she shouted, “SEE YOU AT THE FINISH!”
So started the miles of looping through neighborhoods and schools. No…seriously. It was just this back and forth through turns and twists and it was just mind boggling. As I was heading into Mile 19, I saw runners come back my way, which meant…more doubling back was ahead. I heard the photographers complaining about having a race that criss-crosses like this. And I totally saw the validity in their point. It just became chaotic at points with runners occupying the same space, once again, going different directions. So, we wound up and around these roundabouts, of what I think they call Park Circle. As the miles ticked down, we ran past Academic Magnet School. So many twists and turns and out and backs. It was dizzying. Thank goodness for the arrows to direct us the correct way.
It was about Mile 22 that my pace started to slow. And it wasn’t that I was tired. It was that my foot started to act up. It had behaved for the most part all the way up to that point, but now each step was starting to hurt. I wasn’t going to give up. I was four miles away and hadn’t walked yet. I was doing this thing. So, I gritted my teeth, literally, and just focused on getting to that finish line. Mile 23 was much the same, and I eased up a bit more. Mile 24 felt like it had a bit of a downhill to it, but I slowed up some more, while still keeping with my plan to run the entire race. The course turns back toward the old Navy base and to the Noisette Park. This area was stunning, with views of the Cooper River, huge houses, the old base, etc. We were back on the same course as the half marathon runners. And there were a few still out there. Two miles. I told myself two miles.
Before I knew it, I was making a turn and being told that I had one more turn ahead to the finish. My watch had long since beeped Mile 26. I had no idea how much further I had to go, but I knew I had to be almost to the finish line, which was located in front of North Charleston High School. There was a definite crowd down here. And as I spotted one more final turn, I saw Cathy right on the corner, screaming for me to GO! I dug deep, and pushed it. That finish line was right ahead. And as I crossed that finish line, I threw my arms up in the air and just…took in the moment. I had finished my 9th marathon! Charleston Marathon…done. I paused my Garmin and moved through the chute to obtain my medal. I grabbed some water and made a turn and saw Cathy heading my way. She gave me a hug and told me how well I did. I told her I was hurting really bad. But…I felt good. I checked my Garmin…26.69 miles it said.
We meandered out of the crowd toward where the after party was happening. Runners were given free beer (not my thing…for obvious reasons) and free shrimp and grits (also not my thing, for obvious reasons). I went to go elevate my feet and call my mom and dad to tell them how I did…but as we were heading that way, I said we needed to get my official time at the results booth. We doubled back a little and went to do just that.
And there it was…3:40:54.
Me after finishing the Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina
BRILLIANT! I couldn’t believe it. I was so happy with the time for my first Ultra Marathon (HAHAHA!). Well, it was my first marathon I went into feeling semi-ready. The only problem was my nagging plantar fasciitis, which I only aggravated in those last 4 miles. But hitting that finish line still feeling strong was an amazing feeling. With my official results now listed, I went to get my feet up and call my parents. Cathy went to claim the free shrimp and grits, which she said were watery and not all that good. She picked out the shrimp and ditched the rest. After I got off the phone with my parents, I was ready to head out. Amanda hadn’t made it to the finish…but after a shower and a change of clothes, we were all heading out for some sushi and then sight seeing. So, Cathy and I hopped onto the shuttle bus to go back to the start where the car was parked. I was moving slow, each step a little painful. But we got on the bus and found a seat. We were near the emergency exit and when we sat down, the seat pretty much sank. Leave it to us. Also, apparently after hitting a hard bump, the lever lifted up on the emergency door and the buzzer and alarm started sounding. Cathy managed to get that turned off eventually.
We were returned to the start line and I hobbled with Cathy’s help back to the car. I settled in, turned on the heat, and she drove us back to the hotel. I got cleaned up, Amanda came over, and we went out for the rest of the day. It was an amazing day. I couldn’t have asked for a better time.
So, the official results of the Charleston Marathon are that I ran 26.69 miles in 3:40:54. I was 112/1230 finishers over all. I was 26/580 females to cross the line. And I was 10/464 in my age division. I am over-the-moon with these results. I felt so good (save for the last four miles) for this entire race. And I feel it’s because I’ve taken a step back on the intensity of my training. I am resting and recovering better. It’s been awhile since I felt I could even do that. It was a great confidence booster.
Later, it came out that the lead vehicle took a wrong turn after Mile 1 and that’s what tacked on the extra .25 miles to the race. The race directors at the Charleston Marathon are remeasuring the race and adjusting everyone’s time to the 26.2 miles. But that might not happen until next week. So stay tuned for a new official time. Regardless…I’m damn proud of my performance and how I did on this run. Long, slow distance. Gorgeous scenery. Not perfect…but not bad either. It was great to run in Charleston. What a fantastic way to explore this historic city.
And N…(you know who you are!)…this one was for you!
In the U2 song, Numb, Bono croons the words “Too much is not enough…” repeatedly over the monotone and droning vocals of the Edge as he lists off things that society, or you, the listener, should not do.
Too much is not enough…
But…what happens when too much is, really, too much? What happens when you cave to the pressures of society, of the media, of work, of your peers, of yourself? What happens when you get into what, you think, are healthy habits…but in reality, you’re only doing yourself more harm? What happens when too much is more than enough?
Welcome to the world, sweetheart! It’s abusive. It’s judgmental. And, if you let it, it will get the best of you. It will get inside your head and tell you that you aren’t good enough, smart enough, fast enough, thin enough…even if, in reality you are. You simply start believing that your best…or, you, in general, are just not enough.
And that’s when it gets dangerous. Because there are many ways this scenario could play out…but the common three are:
You believe those inner demons…and you start taking things to excess.
You ignore it all – you’re happy…no one and nothing should make you feel otherwise.
You become depressed…and stop everything that once made you feel good.
We, as society, and especially women, feel like we have high standards to live up to in this world. Look at what the media feeds us. How many times are we bombarded with beauty magazine covers telling us how we can be thinner, prettier, loved, and why on our own, we just aren’t good enough?
The worst part is…we begin to believe it. We find flaws and faults in our lives, our bodies, our families, our friends, our homes, our food, etc.
So…we turn to things we believe will make us happy. Some of us join fitness clubs, or diet, or join Weight Watchers, or workout from home. And some of us believe we take matters into our own hands. And we pay out $100+ for the latest technology gizmo…to be worn to tell you how lazy you are being and to get up and move your ass.
Yes, friends…I am speaking of those evil activity trackers. Be it the Nike Fuel Band, Jawbone, Garmin, Misfit, Fitbit…or any other item out there…we are shackling ourselves and training our brains to believe that if we don’t rack up enough steps or enough points or get all the lights to flash, then, ultimately, we have failed the day.
THIS…was my life for the last 2 years. And, while these little bands you wear around your wrist are good to, perhaps, provide a usually inactive person with incentive to get active…it becomes a whole new demon when you are already active.
My foray into the world of activity trackers began just after Christmas back in 2012. My roommate had heard me, countless times, say that I wanted a Nike Fuel Band for Christmas. At first, she thought I was interested in another fuel belt for my long runs. That was until I pointed out the commercial that was, literally, everywhere that year during the holidays. Lo and behold…when I returned home from visiting my family for the holidays…a Nike Fuel Band awaited me. I immediately charged it and got it set up to begin tracking my activity.
Meeting goals was easy for me. I am a runner. When I would go out for my morning runs, 5 miles would get me to the pre-set goal. I upped the goal for Fuel Points (yeah…Fuel Points earn you nothing…just bragging rights…or something…which no one really cares about anyway!) and still would meet it, often before the sun came up. I loved my Nike Fuel Band. It was my watch. It tracked my steps (kind of!), it showed me how active I was by lighting up lights. I would start each morning with one red dot. Well…that’s not good. I need to get to the fireworks and the word GOAL. I would get dressed. Head out to run or go to the gym. And, yes, usually by the time I was settling in for coffee…most, if not all, of the lights would be lit up. Goal met…and I still had the rest of the day to go.
It became an obsession. I should have seen the warning signs, but in my head, I was doing something good for me. I was visiting my friend Jenn for New Years that first year. The weather was hideous. Seriously. So, that morning I just sort of…ran in place in her kitchen for what I estimated would be a 5 mile run. My Nike Fuel Band didn’t budge much. But we still had a few stores to hit, a movie to see, and then return home for dinner. But, once we returned home, I was still shy on my Fuel Points, by about 2000 points. I couldn’t believe how often I thought walking around Half Price Books was giving me a good workout, but in reality, it wasn’t doing much. Frustrated that my streak of consecutive days that I hit my goal would be broken, I helped get dinner prepped and in the oven…and then proceeded to run up and down her steps. Yes. I did this probably about 50 times in order to meet my goal. It was the first time it hadn’t been hit by lunch. It was after 7 p.m. But…goal met. My Nike Fuel Band display erupted into the fireworks of red, orange, yellow and green. GOAL blinked at me. I could now relax. I could now actually enjoy my stay. Because…running up and down your friend’s steps is SO much more important than time spent with said friend, right?
Same thing happened when I went to Uitica, New York, to run in The Boilermaker 15K. I was in the car most of the day, and despite little walk/jog sessions at rest stops and lunch stops, and the stroll to and from and around the expo…my goal hadn’t been hit. And it was getting late. My friend, Jean, who I was staying with, was prepping the futon and air mattress for myself and my friends to crash out on. My best friend from high school, Jenn, was visiting that night. We were talking and having a great time getting caught up. but as the evening was winding down, I hit the button on my Fuel Band to check my progress. I wasn’t even in the green lights yet. Goal wasn’t even close to being hit. So, I honest-to-God, stood up and started doing jumping jacks in Jean’s living room. My friends put up with it. Jean even suggested a move she learned in her weight lifting class…seal jacks. I should have been relaxing before a race, enjoying the company with my friends and all, but I was so focused on making that word GOAL flash up on the face of that shackle around my wrist. I got there…finally…and Jenn had to leave and the rest of us had to get some sleep. I felt I could do that now…with a clear conscience. I hit my Fuel Points goal.
Needless to say, my Nike Fuel Band didn’t last 6 months before it literally crapped out on me. It just stopped working. I contacted Nike and they had me send it back to them. I was frustrated that they couldn’t just overnight me a new one because, “how was I supposed to hit my fuel point goal if I didn’t have one to wear?” I was told to use the Nike+ app on my phone, which would help keep my streak alive. I refuse to walk around with my phone attached to me at all times, so I grumbled and groused and mailed off my dead Fuel Band, being told that if it couldn’t be fixed…a new one would be sent my way.
A couple of weeks later, a shiny, new Fuel Band arrived. I had to set everything back up and now start my streak over. It was frustrating. The entire time I was without my little shackle, I didn’t live life any differently. I still went to the gym. I still ran. I did everything I was doing before, I was just doing it without a wristlet to congratulate me on a good effort and a job well done. But, I couldn’t even begin to count the times I said, “I wish I had my Fuel Band.”
That is NOT normal behavior.
But, now I could get back on track. I could earn those worthless and pointless Fuel Points and just kill each day with my activity. I was back.
Until…the Fuel Band choked on me again. This time, I gave up on it. I didn’t want to send it back and wait weeks to receive a new one. I couldn’t fathom being without my little handcuff of activity. I tossed it. And immediately hopped on the Fitbit bandwagon. Because, I obviously wasn’t being active at all…and needed some sort of reinforcement that I was, actually, doing something.
See how this gets into your head?
So, Fitbit it was. The only problem was…this wrist accessory didn’t have a watch. The Fitbit Force hadn’t hit stores yet…so I got the Fitbit Flex, which worked on 5 lights lighting up to let me know if I hit my activity goal. It wasn’t what I was used to…and I hated not having a time option, but…eh…the price I would pay to have something tell me if I was moving or not. I wore this around for a little while, tracking my activities and effort through those lights. The bad part, much like the Nike Fuel Band, was that I’d have to remove it to charge it every couple of days. But, small price to pay.
And, you better believe I picked up the FitBit Force when it hit stores. Now I did have a clock. And it could tell me how many flights of stairs my activity would equal out to be. Yes…this was new and different and fun and…every day I wanted to make sure I hit my steps goal, and see how many flights of stairs that would equal out to be. It was my new thing.
Until I had an allergic reaction to it. Bye-bye Fitbit Force. Back to the Fitbit Flex I still owned. Because, I obviously needed something to tell me how active I was being, right? Right?! Because as a runner and a three-times-a-week gym rat…I certainly wasn’t being active enough. That was how my brain was ticking. I needed to have that extra visual now. I was like an addict…and these activity trackers were my drug. I couldn’t live without it. Even when the tracker broke my wrist out in a rash…I couldn’t go without it.
I started taking spin classes at the gym, and in order to get my activity tracker to realize I was doing something on a bike, I would take it off my wrist and attach it to my shoe. I did this religiously. God forbid I take a fitness class and not get credit for it, right? This is how programmed I had become. I would do things like walk back and forth in a small area in order to get all those lights lit up.
And when I was sidelined with an injury…it became a much more difficult task. I continued to do everything I could to get those lights up without the use of my mileage from running. And I managed it. Up until one day when I was heading out of town for a weekend away. The battery power on my Fitbit was low. I needed to charge it but…oops…I was at the office, needing to get on the road immediately…and my charger was at home. I knew some of the ladies at the office used Fitbit…but none of them had the charger that I needed for mine. I literally was in a frantic panic. I was close to tears. And my roommate sighed and said, “Well…I guess we could swing by the apartment…”
And that was when it hit me.
How blind was I that I couldn’t see this before? This little cuff around my wrist was making me a slave. A slave to normal, everyday, fun activities. My goal wasn’t that I was moving, it was how much I could move and would my bracelet actually pick up on said activity. Would I be the most active person of my group of friends? I had to, and I mean, had to hit that goal every single day. No questions about it. If not, I got frustrated with myself.
Beyond that…an 8 mile tempo run was no longer good enough. If I didn’t hit my goal with run, I had to do more. I was gorging myself on exercise. I was making every waking moment and every movement that I made a competition. One between me and my activity tracker. It was a sickness…and it took my battery dying before a long trip to make me realize just how addicted and how stupid I had become.
I threw it away. That very moment, that very day. I threw it away.
And suddenly…I felt so free. I felt like a huge burden had been lifted from me. Life just…felt so much better. I could breathe again. I could go to spin class and not stress over how fast I could move my feet to get in the “steps” that I felt I needed in order for my active life to have meaning. I no longer dreaded yoga. You don’t get much credit on these trackers for activities like yoga and weights…sure…you’re being active but…HA…you aren’t moving enough for these activity trackers to really register it. All of the pressure I was putting on myself…all of the stress of having to meet a goal each and every day…*POOF*…gone. Just like that.
I have never looked back. My life returned. Suddenly…my hard 8 mile tempo run was enough. I mean, for crying out loud, I had just run 8 miles. That was all I needed.
It also began to occur to me that if I really looked around…it was the weekend warriors who were the ones tied down by their activity trackers. Those who defined themselves as any sort of athlete…professional or simply someone who was active in a particular activity…was not wearing a damn shackle to alert them as to how active they are. They didn’t care how many steps they took or how many flights of stairs that equaled out to. They didn’t care how many inaccurate calories it told them they burned or how many inaccurate miles they had walked/ran/skipped/hopped/biked/slithered/frolicked/somersaulted, etc. They did their activity and it was enough. They cross-trained and it was enough.
I fell into this group. I wasn’t a weekend warrior. I was active throughout the week. I didn’t need a device to judge me or leave me feeling judged. I didn’t need a device to lay a guilt trip on me. Being an athlete means that I live life by the numbers. Pace. Miles. Speed. Distance. Time. I didn’t need to add something else to the mix. Something that, obviously, was putting more stress and more pressure on me. Life is hard enough. Sports are hard enough. Adding more pressure on yourself leads to overdoing it and pushing beyond what you are capable of…sometimes causing injuries.
I didn’t need that kind of pressure in my life anymore. I was doing more than enough as it was. Why become a slave to a stupid little bracelet that either said I was enough or I was a loser. I am an athlete. Not a weekend warrior. I didn’t need it. And, after giving it up, I no longer wanted it either.
Exorcise anorexia…is real. And I was on the very brink of becoming a victim of this serious disease. I wasn’t excessively exercising, but I was doing more than I needed to in my training. I felt my self-worth was only based on my physical performance. When I didn’t place in a race, I was beyond hard on myself. It didn’t matter that I had a good run, maybe even PR’d…I didn’t feel like I was successful because I didn’t live up to the high bar I set for myself.
There is certainly a time and a place for activity trackers, but I think people who already lead active lives don’t need to even bother with them. Weekend warriors or those simply starting to find a way to get fit and active, sure…lock yourself into one of these little wrist shackles. It may or may not make any difference. But if you, like me, are already active…this little device not only adds pressure to your already stressful and difficult routine throughout the week…but it also can lead to damage to your body, poor performance, and…even even disordered eating.
Before you decide to purchase or live your life based off a little activity tracker, I ask you to really ask if it is something you need in your life. Be active. Eat well. Life for yourself. Not lights on a little bracelet. Ditch it…and find your freedom again. It will be the best thing you will ever do for yourself as an athlete.
Trust me.
I had to find this out for myself.
I began this blog with lyrics…I’ll sum it up with lyrics…this time by the amazing Sam Smith.
“Too much of a good thing won’t be good for long…Too much of a good thing won’t be good anymore…”
Everything in moderation. Even the good things. Yes…even the good things.
Me crossing the finish line with Natalie at the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon, Louisville, Kentucky
Race: Urban Bourbon Half Marathon
Place: Louisville, Kentucky
Date: October 25, 2014
Time:2:00:21
It was the weekend before the New York City Marathon…and I had not run over 2 miles. At all. Nope. Coming back after Twin Cities was a struggle. When you run a marathon you don’t train for…you hurt. When your foot already hurts…you hurt longer and more than you thought was humanly possible. I took a full two weeks off after Twin Cities…no nothing. Just recovery. And then, because of inflammation and a bit of lingering soreness in the foot…I picked up some light cardio on the machines, but still hesitated to get out there and pound the pavement. After one more week of cautionary workouts…I decided to try 1 mile. I did this every morning…and I felt like some progress was being made.
The problem with the foot meant that I was out of the Black Cat Chase 5K in Frankfort, Kentucky. I was bummed, because that is a great 5K to run. It’s at night. It’s usually cold. It’s fun. And I always duck into the coffee shop afterwards for apple cider to warm up. It wasn’t happening this year…not with this foot. The people in Frankfort were gracious enough to allow me to use the free entry I won towards next year. So…there it is.
I knew that New York City was looming. It was just…there. And I knew I needed to go for an easy double-digit run…working in some walking because you just don’t go from 1 mile to double digits right away. You just…don’t.
Awhile back, a friend of mine said she was training for the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon…and as I was out all summer, my intention was to show up…with signs…and cheer for her. I wasn’t going to tell her I was doing it. Just show up and surprise her. But…things sort of unraveled the week or so before the race. Needless to say…I ended up scrapping the plans this time.
But then, my friend Natalie, who swore off the Urban Bourbon (because this half marathon meant the end of the Big Hit Quarter and Half Marathons) was suddenly running it because our friend, and fellow runner, Terry, gave her a free entry. She, like me, has been dealing with injuries this year, and she decided since she hadn’t trained for it, she’d just go out there and run what she feels and it would all be grand. She told me, after I teased her about signing up for a race she said she’d never run, that she was going to do a run/walk method.
Which got me thinking about how necessary running over 1 mile a day was for me in order to prepare for New York City. After I texted her to make sure she wasn’t running for time (let’s face it…speed is not something I have right now)…and she confirmed…and that she would do a run/walk method…I said I’d like to run it with her, as a good gauge for how New York City would go. And…she even had a free entry code for me…so…free race. How could I say no?
Answer: I would have been stupid to turn it down.
Unexpected half marathon…registered.
So, after attending the Halloween Party at Annie May’s Sweet Café in Louisville, Kentucky (I went dressed as a “jogger”), where I got my gluten-free pizza (required!!), I went home and had to decide on something to wear. Natalie, in protest, was wearing one of her Big Hit shirts. Long sleeve. I wanted to dress the same as her…but the weather was saying 50 degrees that morning, and I didn’t think, from the picture, that I had that shirt (I do…I pulled it out even, but in my mind, as she had arm warmers with it, I thought it was a short sleeve shirt and the Big Hit short sleeve shirts were tents on me!), so I opted to be Natalie’s Tinkerbell. In other words…GREEN! I pulled out my new running skirt I got on sale at Nike and my bright green BlueMile t-shirt. That would work. I planned on testing out the Adidas Adizero Boston 5 shoes that my friend, and shoe guru, Jackson, put me in the weekend before when I limped into Fleet Feet. I had worn them on a couple of my little 1 mile jaunts…and loved them. They weren’t Newtons…but they do give me a comfortable ride. Adidas seems to be the other shoe I love. Go figure. Anyway, Jackson swore by them and I tested them out with a jog around the building. Foot felt good and comfortable in them. SOLD. They came home with me and that week I spent breaking them in properly…by wearing them everywhere. When the free entry to the Urban Bourbon came around…great way to test them in a race environment, even if I wasn’t racing this half marathon.
So, morning came around and I got dressed up and ate my breakfast – my usual bowl of cereal. Whatever gluten-free kind I have open. I did that…had a spot of coffee…drank some water…and got ready to go. The only thing I needed now was my BondiBand. It’s part of my race uniform. So I ended up going with a green one that said “Marathon Maniacs” on it. It worked. After a quick brush of my teeth, my extra clothes were grabbed and my banana for the start was picked up…I filled up my fuel belt with water and a new flavor of Gu (Vanilla Bean) to take halfway through…to practice some fueling. And then, Cathy and I headed for the car.
Surprisingly, parking was not an issue for this race. We picked the parking garage we parked in when I ran the Sports Commission Half Marathon two years ago, as it is right near the finish line for the race…and also very close to the start. So, it’s ideal, really. We got parked, gathered up everything and headed down to the staging area, in front of the KFC Yum Center. As we were crossing the street to go near the fountain, Natalie and Harry spotted us and yelled at us. We finished crossing and waited for them on the other side. They joined in and hugs were given. It feels like I lifetime since I had seen these two.
We all stood around for a little while…just talking and catching up. We spotted a woman dressed as a flapper (running gear style) and I thought it was fantastic. Then, to avoid port-a-potties…Harry, Natalie and I ducked over to the nearby Marriott to use their bathroom. I told you…I.AM.A.PRINCESS. Anyway…flushing toilets win every time. We met back where Cathy was holding down the fort and I snagged my banana to fuel…as we were 30 minutes out from the start of the race. Natalie had forgotten hers, but Cathy offered hers as she had other snacks for the day. We ate…we stretched…and eventually Harry and Natalie got out of their layers and just in their running gear. I was not wearing layers, LOL. So…I just had to hand over my hoodie.
Gear check was up next for them, so I wandered that way and while Natalie was in line, Harry and I stood to the side to chat a little. I was having a good time. The foot was a little…eh…but not bad. Taking it easy and just having a good run was all I wanted to do. It was all I needed to do. As Harry and I were turning to move onto the sidewalk, my friend who had been training for it was there. Just…there. She said a quick, quiet, “Hi” and turned away before I could utter anything other than “Hi” back. I wanted to at least wish her luck…didn’t have the chance.
From there….it was time to hit that starting corral. I stretched a little more, got a hug from Cathy as she was going to go get positioned at the start line to see us off, and then we stepped inside. The corral system has no system other than everyone gets inside. No pace groups. Nothing. Just find a spot and keep moving. I did a couple more stretches, was found by running friend Dennis (who I knew I couldn’t hang with because he all-out runs everything!), but we talked, waved to other people we knew, and then the National Anthem was played, beautifully, on a horn. I mean…beautiful. And with that…the starting gun went off…and so did we.
We made our way toward the start line before the initial jog started…then after we crossed…it was on. Cathy was on the sideline making noise and we waved as we passed…and immediately went around a turn. I wasn’t expecting that. HA! Usually these races that start in front of the Yum Center go straight down Main Street. Nope…the immediate turn onto 2nd Street sort of threw me for a loop. But…you just move with the crowd and go. We also dodged a police car and ended up hopping up on the sidewalk for some of that first mile. This is typical. The course is always crowded at the start and we just wanted to get into the groove. I let Natalie set the pace and off we went. The foot twinged only a couple of times. But I was laughing and having some fun. That was the point.
We made another turn onto E Mohammad Ali Blvd and the course opened up…a little. This was going to take us over to Lexington Road, sort of on the back side of Cave Hill Cemetery. I never really ran over there that much, so as we are going, I can’t help but comment about how I had no idea where we were, except that we were near Cave Hill. Once the wall disappeared from the scenery, I was totally lost. But, I subscribe to the “just run where everyone else is going” method of racing (I am NEVER the person in the lead!), and that’s always worked out well for me. I knew that at some point we hit Cherokee Park, so I figured things would start to look familiar soon enough.
I was right. We were coming up the Beargrass Creek Greenway…and ahead was the entrance to Cherokee Park, which I have actually run a couple times. Hitting the park was like finally getting back in familiar territory, despite the fact that we run the Scenic Loop backwards. I hate doing the Scenic Loop backwards…but…eh…whatever. So, together we made our way through Mile 4, and then diverge off the Scenic Loop briefly to run to a turn-around spot. Natalie wasn’t carrying a fuel belt, so we were doing water stops for her. She grabbed water at Mile 5 and we continued on. What I didn’t realize was that after we got back onto the normal course, we were sent up Barret Hill Road. I have never run this road. It has the word hill in it…so…heh…you know…
I did not know what I was getting myself into. I hadn’t run hills since Twin Cities (and I walked most of those to save my foot). I told Natalie she was going to have to get me through it. And she was behind me the entire time, telling me to keep going, that I was almost there. This climb was crazy. I didn’t think it was going to end. But when I reached the top, I put my hands up in victory, and she came up a moment later and we were back on track. I was surprised how well I handled the hill, honestly. We eventually were led back to the Scenic Loop and as we followed it around, up the hill toward Hogan’s Fountain…things started to get a little rough for Natalie. She began to have some problems with her hips. Not sure if was a cramping issue or just the whole…battle she has waged this past year…we eased the pace. She was hoping for some Gatorade at the water stop ahead, but they had only water. Because it sounded like she needed electrolytes and stat…I gave her the bottle on my fuel belt with my Nuun in it. We kept on moving, trolling the hills of the park…partying at the top of Dog Hill and curving off, hitting Alexander Road and Mile 7. I hadn’t fueled yet and Natalie needed to fuel…so, I grabbed my Gu pack and my water. I downed my gel as if it were going out of style. Vanilla Bean. Yuck. Too sweet. Glad I discovered that then. Natalie has to take hers in slowly, so we jogged while she took it in doses so as not to upset her stomach. We polished off the fuel and headed out onto Cherokee Parkway.
She was really starting to hurt now. I could tell. We eased the pace some more and kept on pushing. Near the area where Cherokee Parkway meets Grinstead, I spotted Laura. I ran up to her and could see she wasn’t feeling all that well. I asked how she was and she said she was a little lightheaded, so she slowed her pace and took some of her chews to see if that would help. She was hoping to see Michael soon…(he was in 3 different places on the course!)…and would figure things out from there. After making sure she didn’t need anything, Natalie and I turned onto Grinstead and started down the other side of Cave Hill Cemetery.
Then…came her knee pain. It was enough to bring her to a walk. So…we walked a little bit, giving her some time to ease up on the impact, pressure, and allowing a bit of recovery. She chose a sign to pick up the pace again, and we did for as long as she could. She told me to go on without her, but I never leave a runner behind and I was going to see her to that finish line. I wasn’t running this for time…I was running this for distance. So, whatever the clock said was not important to me. Seeing my friend finish…that was important.
We kept this run walk method going throughout much of the last five miles. I would find myself getting ahead of her and I would double back and pick her up…keep moving with her…let her know she was doing well. Focus on anything else but what was bothering her. She had put her headphones in. I think her music was on. I didn’t care. I was going to get her to that finish line. As we rounded onto Baxter Avenue, you would think a party was going on. Mony Mony was blaring, runners were having a blast dancing to it…and we joined in. It was a great pump-you-up song and perfect timing as we were heading toward Mile 10…and the last 5K of the race. Natalie had said if she could get to Mile 10, she knew she could finish. I knew she would finish even if she walked there. But we hit Mile 10 (she was behaving and not looking at timing clocks or her watch the entire time!) and I told her…we were almost home.
We were now running toward downtown now. I knew this course well. I’d done this part a dozen times on training runs. I was bursting with the energy of the race and I found myself up ahead. I would turn my head and locate Natalie. If she had fallen behind…I would loop around…if she was just a bit behind me…I’d jog in place or slow down until she got back to where I was. And this was how it worked for the last 3 miles. She was a trooper. We wanted to cross that finish line together, so it was my duty to make that happen. Run…walk…run…walk…all the way through the turns for Mile 12. One mile to go. I held up 1 finger as encouragement…and we went…down Main Street. I ran…I stopped to wait for her…I got her going. We were close. The crowd was getting louder. The finish line was ahead. I could see it. I could see it. She was struggling, so I reached back and took her hand. And together…we headed to that finish line, one step at a time…and crossed at the same time.
It was the perfect ending to the race. Natalie and I hugged. She stopped her watch and I stopped mine. And she said she PR’d by 5 minutes. Holy freakin’ cow!! I told her, “See what happens when you stop worrying about time and just go out and enjoy the run?” She nodded. She was hurting, but we moved through the finish area, collecting our medals and our foils. More hugs. I dropped her off at the First Aid tent…as she needed some ice for her knee. I continued on to meet up with Cathy, collecting some grapes, water, and chocolate milk along the way.
Harry, Me, and Natalie showing off our bling after running the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon, Louisville, Kentucky
I was so damn proud of Natalie. She really just pushed through and managed to achieve a new personal best without even trying. This is why I run every race for fun. Anything can happen on race day…so going in without high expectations means that I enjoy it and often do better than anticipated. I met up with Cathy and did a bit of stretching. I had the opportunity to talk with my friend Brant (who was pacing a friend of his through his first half marathon!) for a bit…and then we went to find Natalie and Harry for pictures. They were going for pizza afterwards for their recovery lunch. Cathy and I hit up Whole Foods for soup…keeping it light because that evening we were meeting up with her sister, Amanda, to eat Indian food at Shalimar and then go on the Pumpkin Walk at Iroquois Park (which was AMAZING and I want to do it again next year!).
So, as it stands, I finished the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon in 2:00:21, crossing that finish line hand-in-hand with Natalie. Honestly…I still smile. I was 837/2777 finishers. I was 283/1553 women to cross the finish line. And I was 59/298 in my division. I’ll take it. Because this was not a run for time. This was a run to just enjoy…train…see how the foot would hold up. And I ended up helping my friend to an amazing finish. I wouldn’t have traded that for the world.
First of all, yesterday’s post was my 1500th post on this blog. That’s pretty awesome, yes? YES!?
The Celiathlete 