Iddy Biddy Breakthroughs

Recently, I've been struggling a bit with training on two fronts. First, my mojo took a bad left turn somewhere and got lost. Second, I've been struggling finding the right solution to some pain I've been having while running...again.

But, I think I've actually come to some resolution on both fronts.

Gasp is right.

Let's start with the running. Long story short, I purchased my Asics Kayanos upon a recommendation from a friend/fellow triathlete who has lots of experiencing doing just that, but didn't have the benefit of being right there with me during the purchase. I was thrilled for new shoes. I was thrilled for support and cushioning. It was a good relationship.

Until it wasn't. It's been over well over a year now and I've been through multiple halves, an iron attempt, olys, sprints, road races, trail races, and training in a string of Kayanos. And the whole time my limiter has been (a) my willingness to get my ass out of bed to train (completely irrespective of my shoes, but true and we're being thorough here), and (b) knee pain.

This year my typical IBS converted to a strained hamstring and glute. The last five miles of the Devilman Half was a mix of walking and dragging my left leg behind me in what I call my Frankinstein run. It was bad. All of a sudden I'm icing daily and taking OTC pain meds and seeing an ART specialist. The good news is that, following lots of advice from different specialists, it seems I'm one of the rare supinators. Under-pronators. AKA gots ta run on the outsides of her feets.

In a nutshell, I was exaggerating an issue that my feet naturally have and could easily be accommodated for in a neutral shoe by forcing my foot to stay on the outside. As a result, I'm asking the outside of my legs (especially my left one with the existing tight IT Band) to do the bulk of the work.

And they don't like it.

So, I switched my shoes this week. Asics Nimbus 9. A neutral shoe with moderate cushioning because -- let's face it -- I'm still an Athena and we Athena's need a little shock absorption between us and that hallowed road.

And now when I run? I stop because of fatigue, not pain. It has been a long time since I could say that. This has made a huge difference in my mojo, too. I no longer flinch when I think about needing to run on a certain day. It's no longer about managing the pain, I can get back to enjoying the training.

Whew.

And, speaking of mojo, I may have found that again, too. In the last few weeks I haven't really been -- I don't know -- connected with my training. I can't see it in my head. Sounds stupid, I know. But I'm so distracted by my life I haven't really kept my training incorporated into that picture. So it's been on my mental edges, which has translated to being on the edges of my time.
A good part of it is the pain and effort. The pain from my knee/ham/quad getting better and the effort of coming back to regular sessions after time off. I knew I just had to go out and do it, but I just couldn't get myself there.

But I have a race looming in my future, so I have to get back to it, even the hard stuff, especially the hills rides. I've been ducking and dodging the hill rides because I've been worried that my week and half off left my legs all mushy and meally like. Plus I have to dial in the cleat placement on my shoes and there's always wedding things to plan and isn't it time for another batch of gazpacho? No? Bike?

Fine.

Last night I bailed on all those other distractors and finally got my arse out there for my local hill ride. And, you know what?

It rocked. I felt like last year during Iron training, but better. I forgot how responsive my new bike is and how smooth it is to ride. I realized that I still have a TON of fitness in me, even though I had a wee vacation from training. In fact, I tackled the ride better last night than I ever had last year.

And for the first time in a while, I could see the summer days stretching out ahead of me with many quick evening rides, chasing my shadow home and hoping I made the turn around early enough.

So. Let's review.

Shoes -- check.

Mojo -- check.

Life, my friends, is good.

A Brave New Week

Yesterday, I laid out two large plastic tubs and three smaller ones on the guest bed. I carefully folded my wetsuit and placed it in one. I pulled my Goody team cycling kit, the windstopper jacket and my favorite running hat and tossed them all on top. I put the heart rate strap in one of the small tubs, along with my Garmin power plug and favorite lap watch. I lined up a bottle of electrolyte pills and Hammer gels in another small tub.

Why?

Because I'm...

GOING TO WISCONSIN,
BABY!!!

Yeah!!!!

I'm jumping for joy at what was -- a mere week ago -- a given. I'm jumping for joy because I spent hours (and I mean HOURS) laying in bed wondering if I would make it there. Wondering if my back would sabotage my efforts, as my body tends to do now in it's thirties. I ouched and grimaced and moped and slugged my way through the week. And even by Friday afternoon, it seemed as if I would spend August explaining my injury to those amazing donors who have supported CPL and those unexpected and irreplaceable friends who have come along for this journey with me.

And I went to bed on Friday night with a glimmer of hope, because I hadn't needed aspirin for over 6 hours. And I cozied up to my heating pad and reminded myself that Tuesday held this hope for me, only to be dashed the next morning.

But, Saturday morning came. And I could reach straight up in the air without wincing. And I would rotate my arms all the way around without hurting. And, even though my back and shoulder sounded like a garbage disposal full of popcorn, I was standing there in my living room without pain.

Unbelievable.

Absolutely NOT what I expected to happen. And the most blessed thing to come my way in a while.

Oh, and I am thankful, friends. Thank. Ful.

I'm not up to 100% yet, but I went for a 4 mile run yesterday and my only complaint was the heat! I have another run and a short bike ride planned for tonight, and I'm hoping to have the same experience. I'm going to keep up with the aspirin, heating pad and cautious stretching. And I don't think the pool will see me for a few more days at least.

But I'm on the mend. I am on the mend.

And I couldn't be more elated at packing some plastic tubs than I was yesterday afternoon.

One for race clothes. One for food. One for electronics. And one for bike gear. A copy of the bike elevation chart sits next to this display, with careful notes taken when I watched Stu's video journal of the course. And my running shoes laid out for the next session.

Know why?

Because I'm going to Wisconsin, baby.

Watch out, cause...

HERE

I

COME!

Welcome to Melodrama 101

Warning: this post is pouty, noticeably devoid of perspective, and downright melodramatic. Aside from the first paragraph, it really lacks any meaningful content. In fact, just skip it and have a cup of coffee instead.

Thanks, guys. Everyone -- for being so supportive in the comments to my last post. I'm rooting for me, too. I'm keeping that goal in my sights. Bannish the WhatIfs! Onward to positive thoughts.

Okay, so the back. Only modest improvement since Wednesday. Last night found me up at 3 to take aspirin to help with the discomfort -- I'm hesitant to take anything more powerful. Can you imagine me on narcotics? Um, I'm already all over the place. I had high hopes for yesterday, since Wednesday was noticeably better than Tuesday, but it's was still aching away like a disgruntled aunt left alone on a bench at Target. Just. Not. Happy.

I totally agree with your suggestions -- I've been keeping the massage idea in my back pocket for financial reasons. It's taken a lot of wrangling to just save the money for gas and hotel for the trip, so an additional expense like that is hard. I made a deal with myself that I would make an appointment for a massage therapist for a sports massage (but clearly focusing on my upper back rather than a standard deep tissue) if things weren't improving by this afternoon. Ah, Stronger...yet another reason to live in Colorado! I would so be on your doorstep with zucchini bread and vouchers for years of babysitting if I were only on that side of the Mississippi!

Mighty M has helped when he can, but yesterday I took to moping around and eating horrendous food. Cake at 10:00 at night. I gave up gratuitous cake months ago, so it was a fiiiine example of emotional eating. I had mac and cheese at lunch. Me -- mac and cheese. I usually have a green salad with tuna and red peppers, and I found myself all pouty at the hot bar at our local Giant. Good grief, girlfriend.

All the time on my hands? Not a clue what to do with it. Except worry. I intellectually know that this is the smart way to heal, but my spirit is chomping at the bit to be let out to play. I see the calendar and know that I have such a short period of time to really make the most of fine tuning my legs and lungs before taper. I know that you can't gain any fitness during this time, but that's not what I want. I just don't want to LOSE any of the stuff I've got. And each day that goes by that I wake with continued pain, I feel like my body is a sieve and I'm dripping away my chances at finishing under cutoff.

How's that for dramatic.

I'll spare you the weight I lay on Mighty M at night. All about how I've worked so hard to prove I can do this and to have my own body betray me. And how I have so many people relying on me showing up and trying and feeling like my chances of finishing are getting smaller and smaller by day. And childlike rejection of the thesis that the journey is the destination and I've made the journey.

I'll spare you. Cause it goes on and on.

So I've become a pouty drama queen, too, throughout all of this. Sigh. I feel so Lifetime Special, all internal dialog and long stares out windows. Dra. Ma. It's getting old.

Tonight I'm going to try to jog for a little to see how it feels. Tomorrow I had a 100 mile bike scheduled that clearly won't be a good idea. But I am hoping that I can spin a little on the bike around town. If it starts hurting, I promise to stop right away. But I've gotta try something soon, right?

Ugh.

I'm such a crappy patient.

On a Dime

How is it that things can turn in a different direction SO DARNED QUICKLY???

Picture this...Monday night. I've just returned from work, happily thinking about my ride on deck and thanking the powers that be the it's only 90 degrees and not the 190 degrees it was supposed to be the next day.

Enter, stage left, an unsorted looking group (and when I say group, I mean THREE CARLOADS FULL) of teenagers on our corner. Nothing to do. Bored and randy. Lots of hideous language they would never say in front of their moms and loud music from the car radios.

Oh. Fun.

Enter stage right, the local Po-po. Dutily called on by another neighbor. The teens were questioned and their waterbottles were checked. The cops stayed there a good half hour and then took off, because there wasn't any good reason to take anyone in. Like I said -- just bored and hot on a summer day.

But they didn't scatter. No. Teens these days don't worry about stuff like this. They got louder and started sitting on neighboring cars, setting off alarms and causing a ruckus. Mighty M and I had had it up to here and gave them a talking to (in our own, very different, ways). It was not fun, and more than a little stressful.

And afterwards, I had a weird feeling in my back. Upper left back and neck. Like I had pulled it or something. What, yelling at teenagers? No way.

So we went to the store for an errand. Still hurt. Came home and made some chicken for dinner. Hurting worse. Hmmm. No ride tonight, took some aspirin and went to bed.

And tossed.

And turned.

For the next 9 hours.

By morning, I had 5 minutes of sleep and was in enough pain to call out sick. Spent the whole day on my back trying to find a way to just *be* that didn't hurt.

Ugh.

Today is better and last night I actually slept. But I'm worried. A lot worried. Really, really worried. I keep telling my back that I'M SUPPOSED TO BE PEAKING THIS WEEK! Not laying prone staring at the ceiling.

PEAKING!! P-E-A-K-I-N-G!!

(deflated sigh)

Instead, I have exactly zero hours done so far. Hours of the plan just completely down the tube. Hours of training that I wanted and needed to be ready for Wisconsin.

The progress today is making me feel a slight bit better. But I'm still grumbly. (Can you tell?) What if this doesn't heal? What if I can't swim? What if... ??

I don't even dare say it out loud...

Calves that Baaaa

Once I was told that I have "calves that baaa."

Yup, they kind of do. In fact, they're the only part of my body that I've never really had to worry about before -- they've always been strong and muscular and kind of rockin'. Throw some heels on and let's go party.

It's just a genetic fluke. My Dad has the most ridiculously muscular calves you've ever seen. Like easily 10-12 inch around and cut like Schwarzenneger before he became governor. And Dad is a musicologist. Seriously. A musicologist.

That, my dear friends, is genetics at work.

Trust me, there's a bunch about my body that I've had an "issue" (or three) with in the past, but my calves ain't one of them.

Until now.

ARGGGGHHHH!!

I'm not used to this injury thing. And it's bumming me out big time.

As you know from yesterday's post, I've been off the training tip since last Tuesday and I've been careful with my left calf pull in the interim. Lots of icing and anti inflams going on. Like over two weeks of this process going on. Lots of homely, but "practical" flats replacing my normal heels. Lots of stretching. Lots and lots.

So, last night it was time to give her a spin out on the running trail and see how much progress we've made.

What...did I run backwards??

I did make it farther than last week's 15 minute/1 mile jog down the street -- that's the good news. This time I made it about 2 miles before cramping set in. And lots of it. I iced like a fiend when I got home and took 2 Aleve and elevated and STILL had some serious residual tightness and pain.

Let me repeat...

AARRRGGGGHHHH!!!!

Have you ever felt like your body is working AGAINST you?? Like it has a totally different agenda and is intent on making sure YOU don't get to meet your goals!?!?!

Um...yeah, CAUSE I DO!!!

Thankfully, tonight I get to bang some miles out on the bike. The bike -- thankfully -- doesn't produce this same horrible, ridiculous, utterly frustrating pain. The bike, for now, will be my friend.

BFF. The bike and me. B.F.F.

And the pool. We've always been pals, but we're going to see a great deal more of each other now adays.

Now...I'm going to grab some coffee and take a look at my health plan. Possibly a physical therapist in on my horizon? Hmmm? Ya think?

________________

Oh, and as a little addendum to this story, there was a true IronSherpa moment last night. After finding me curled up in bed and crying about my misfortune with my calf and listening to me blubber about how all my (imaginary internet) friends were out there PR'ing races and doing 13 mile training runs, Might M snuck out of the house by the basement door and went to get me an emergency pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream at the Wawa, which he thoughtfully delivered (with spoon) to me in my pissed-on-petunia repose in bed and shared in my pitty-party with a pint of peanut butter cup of his very own.

Not only does it show how mighty Mighty M can be, it also apparently shows that I can write really, really long sentences.