Countdown to [Hip Labral] Surgery

A shot of novacane inserted into my right hip.

No one likes being injured. I would imagine even fewer people are fans of surgery.

Nearly two and a half years ago, I began experiencing a pain in my right hip that got increasingly worse in a matter of weeks. It came out of nowhere with no event to attribute it to. Suddenly, it hurt to run.

So I stopped running and went back to physical therapy. It was a routine I knew all too well in my distance running career. A few weeks of PT and I'd be back on track to run the Chicago Marathon that fall. Unfortunately that was not the case. I remained in physical therapy for six months returning to the doctor several times with no resolution outside of a possible strained or torn muscle. The marathon came and went. Over time, I moved on from running and focused on yoga. Though my hip continued to bother me at times (periods of long sitting at work, sitting in low chairs, certain yoga poses), I wasn't in severe pain and had accepted this was my way of life.

As more time passed, I missed running. So when my new team at work mentioned earlier this year wanting to start a run club to train for the Corporate Challenge (a 3.5 mile race), I was game. We found a couch to 5K program and started training. It felt good to run/walk and work up a sweat. I was hopeful to run again. Within a few weeks, I was back to the familiar pain I'd experienced before. This time, I had had it. Something was wrong. If Northwestern couldn't get to the bottom of the problem, I would find a doctor and hospital that could. 

A few weeks later, I had an MRI which shown a torn hip labral. Next, appointments with surgeons at Rush and Northshore specializing in hip labral surgery. Both told me the same thing - My hip's genetic structure had lead to a tear in two places of my hip's labral (the cartilage in the hip). The body cannot repair the labral on it's own, so I had two choices - Reduce my activities enough to escape pain (which I had already attempted by not running or limiting yoga over the last two years) or have surgery.

A month later, I had a shot of novacane inserted into my right hip and was then instructed to exercise. I ran. I jumped. I handstanded. I arm balanced. It didn't hurt. I felt like superman. This was a test to see if I would be a good candidate for the surgery.

Shortly after that test, I scheduled surgery for September. In the last few months, I have noticed new causes of pain for the hip outside of exercise. I know it's getting worse instead of better - and it's time to do something about it. 

Over the course of this experience, I have heard a lot of "Well, it's because you ran/marathons." As if that's a valid reason to be in pain. (Why do people say stuff like that?) Truthfully, that is not my case nor the case with many others experiencing this.

Last week, I happened to catch a segment of Good Morning America. I never watch GMA, so it was truly remarkable that I was a captive audience when Lara Spencer's story came on about her hip replacement surgery. It brought me to tears. "It's not just me" was the first thing I thought. Hip injuries happen to young people and they account for 10% of the hip replacement surgeries. 

Though my road to discovery has been a bit long, I am looking forward to recovery and returning to the activities I so miss. One day at a time. 

If you haven't watched Lara Spencer's segment, you can see it here. 

Choosing a Side of the Fence [Part 2]

Two summers ago, I wrote a post about Choosing a Side of the Fence.

It stemmed from a discussion I'd had about my future in marathoning. Back in early 2012, I'd debated registering for Chicago again. I'd completed four marathons. Did I need to do another?

At the finish line later that year, I was sure happy I had. To date, the 2012 Chicago Marathon remains my standing PR. Mother Nature provided ideal race conditions that day allowing for Jeff and I to knock 12 and 20 minutes off our standing PR's.

This year I was in for a change.

Late spring I was hopeful that after a few weeks in the PT clinic, I would be able to jump back into training. But as weeks turned into months, I had to come to the realization that a marathon wasn't in the cards for 2014.

That's when frustration really started to set in. So much so, that a few weeks ago I had a complete melt down in the PT clinic.

So for the first time in many years, I found myself on the opposite side of the fence on Sunday. Instead of being a participant, I was a spectator.

I thought about that scenario in the weeks leading up to the race. How would I react to not running the race? Would I be sad? Relieved? Even more frustrated?

As race day approached, I found I was in better spirits than I expected. I was looking forward to watching Jeff and some other friends. I hoped that I could replicate my Mom's to-the-minute spectator guide and see my friends at various points through the city.

Friday night, instead of carb loading, I made Jeff a sign -

It was fitting since Jeff and Ann had turned me on to Untappd while we were in California. I enjoyed creating a handmade sign. It made me remember the last time I'd taken the time to draw a sign by hand - my brother's homecoming from Afghanistan.

It was after the sign was complete that I started to become excited about watching the race. I couldn't wait to put on an old pair of running shoes, grab my Ventra card and hit the streets with the Untappd sign.

When Sunday morning came, we did just that.

Seeing Jeff for the first time on Addison was a rush. It's funny to say that as a spectator. While Jeff ran the race course, we tried to hop trains down to see him through downtown. Jeff was moving at a good clip and we missed him around the 12 mile mark. We then headed down to the south side.

Somewhere in between the miles through Little Italy or Pilsen, a marathoner's best laid plans can unravel. We waited just past the 21 mile marker on Archer for awhile, carefully scanning the crowd for red shirts. Then we saw him.

I could tell by the look on his face that he was happy to see us but also that he was in the toughest part of the race. The wall. But he had a goal and was determined. There was no doubting that. As the body begins to give up in the marathon, it's your mind that keeps one foot in front of the other. But you don't have to tell that to someone who's running marathon 10. Instead, you jump in with a few jokes. A story from earlier in the day. Or just to be by their side for a few blocks. Saying nothing. Saying nothing and wondering if he was listening to "Call Me Maybe" yet.

After I ran over to the side to get out of the race path, I watched him chug along down Wentworth. He looked strong. He was going to do it. He was going to smash his PR. Now it was just a question of by how much.

As I headed on the red line back to the north side, I received a text alert. Jeff had finished. Not only had he finished, but he had absolutely crushed his previous PR.

I smiled as I read the alert again.

Being on this side of the fence is pretty awesome too.

Newer, Faster Jeff

Most days, I'm an optimist. 

The glass is half full.

What will be will be.

Everything happens for a reason. 

But when a dark cloud is cast over your training program early in the season, it's a fight to stay positive. 

The ever-so-dark injury cloud. 

For the number of times I've fallen, sprained my ankle or worse, I guess I should have known I was bound to have to throw in the towel for a big race at least once. As luck would have it, that happened to be this year.

Not running IS weird. 

Though I find I miss running a bit in general, I miss running with my running partner more.

Jeff and I meet, rather religiously, at Montrose Harbor shortly after 6am each Saturday morning between June and October to run side by side for six to twenty miles. We have done this for the last few years. We moved up a pace group two summers ago. After our PR success, we talked about getting quicker to make another pace group move this summer. 

Unfortunately, when the time came, Jeff had to make that decision on his own. 

But there is a silver lining in every cloud. Even the injury cloud. 

Jeff has moved up not one, but two pace groups. He's running a full minute per mile faster than he was this time last year. During the week, he is meeting up with another friend to do speed work. In addition, he's following his wife's advice and doing the proper physical therapy strengthening exercises. 

2014 is going to be Jeff's big, massive, PR year. 

I can't wait to cheer him on, followed by a celebration of his marathon retirement complete with craft beers.

Back at It [The Lab]

Towards the end of last week, I found myself back at the physical therapy clinic after a week long vacation.

I was closing in on a month of doing nothing in the world of exercise. I found myself wondering if and when I'd ever taken such a long break before. 

After going through the paces of heat, warm up, deep tissue massage, excercises and ice, I asked my physical therapist a question -

Can I go back to yoga?

To which he nodded his head yes. 

After doing a whole lot of nothing as only a blob on the couch can, I could finally do something. 

The next day, I walked back into The Lab. The instructors were surprised to see me and asked where I had been. It felt good to be back in the studio.

I grabbed my mat and prepped for class. As I sat on my mat (which I leave at the studio), I realized just how much it smelled. I know I sweat a lot on it, but holy sh-t. I'm surprised the instructors stop by to adjust me with that smell radiating off my mat.

Mental Note: Take mat home and wash it.

I reminded myself that I may have lost some of the strength and flexibility I'd built up before my injury. I asked myself to not be frustrated by this. Injuries happen. People can recover from injuries to become bigger, better athletes.

Not that I need to be any bigger/taller, but you get the point. 

Then class began. I had missed the pace of the class. The warmup. The music. Stretching and strengthening both sides of the body. Then the peak pose. I wondered if I would be able to do it today.

I stayed away from some of the poses that I remember being painful before I started PT - standing splits, warrior three. When you're hanging out in downward dog waiting for the next cue, sometimes these now-impossible poses seem to last forever.

"Just be happy you're here." I remind myself. Don't get frustrated.

Class then moved out of the peak pose (and deep hip pose which I babied) and over to the once-dreaded, but now much-beloved wall. Ah yes, it's inversion time. One of my favorite parts of class. But after not doing an inversion for a month, I wondered what I could still do. I did just a few, taking my time to not pull too much on my right hip. They were not my straightest, lightest or longest-balancing forearm balances, but they were a place to start.

It's ok, I'm happy with that today.

Working my way back to the strength I had here.

An Orthopedic Visit

Early Tuesday morning last week, I headed over to my appointment with an orthopedic surgeon.

After going through a month of PT and an inconclusive assessment from my GP, it seemed like time to take that next step. 

Walking into the facility reminded me a bit of a high end DMV. Lots of chairs. Every walk of life. A good amount of people standing in line or filling out paperwork. These people are all hurt (or were) and are seeking a recovery plan. 

I am quickly moved from waiting room to exam room where I'm asked all the usual questions. The assistant leaves and I'm left to sit for quite awhile. I find my mind wandering as I entertain myself with my phone -

What if what I have is a serious injury? What if this is the end of my running career? 

The doctor comes in. He seems like a nice enough guy and knowledgable. He takes a look at my hip and asks some questions, then sends me along for a x-ray. 

I return a few minutes later for more waiting. The doctor seemed to think it wasn't anything serious in the initial review.

Ok, good...I wonder if I can just go back to working out soon then? I hope he knows exactly what the problem is when he comes in so I can stop looking up hip pain on webmd and scaring the crap out of myself. 

Soon thereafter, but not soon enough for my wandering mind, the doctor returns. His assessment is similar to my GP and PT - a muscle strain. It could take some time (months even) to heal. He advises me to "take it easy."

But I've already been taking it easy. I'm a blob on the couch. 

He confirms no running or yoga for a few weeks. Oh, and that walking thing - I should do less of it and walk slower.

I can hardly believe this. Walk slower? 

I didn't think it was possible to do less, but somehow, that's what I'm supposed to do. 

Repeat After Me: NO Running!

July 3rd was a great day.

I sort of ran. As in, I did more than walk.

That was a great 30 minutes.

After a long holiday weekend and a 11+ hour round trip car ride, I came home Monday sore and tight again. Going backwards in rehab isn't fun.

Wednesday I came home from work restless and decided to give the old track routine a try again. I was being optimistic I could build on my last session's success.

July 9 was pretty much a workout fail. Frustrated and slightly embarrassed, I finished the last 5/8 of the workout walking.

I headed to my PT the next morning. As I laid on the table with a heating pad on my hip, the therapist asked how I was feeling. I didn't have much good to report.

I told him about my workout fail, to which he replied "I think we need to cease all running for three weeks." He must have sensed my opposition, because as I started to explain further, he said "Repeat after me - NO running for three weeks."

"Ok, ok.." I said as I repeated what he said. Somehow, PT has made me feel like an elderly person and a grade school student all in one.

A few minutes later, I mentioned how I was scheduled to run the Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon in a week and a half. The PT just smirked at me. He knows I can't let it go.

But I'm going to have to sit the race out in wine country. It's going to be a hard one to miss. I had the opportunity to run it in 2012 with my friend Brian. It's one of the most memorable races of my life. At the same time, I have to listen to the professionals (no matter how hard it is).

For the last few years, the Chicago Marathon has sold out at a capacity of 45,000 runners. Following the race, statistics are shared in the media as to how many runners started the race and how many completed. I've always been surprised by the huge disparity in runners who started the race (usually around 34,000-ish) vs. the 45,000 registered runners. How are 10,000 people not showing up to the starting line each year?

Now I'm getting a glimpse of where some of them may have landed - limbo PT land.

Tuesday I'm off to see an orthopedic surgeon to get his assessment. He's a team doctor with the Bears, so hopefully he's familiar with whatever it is that's going on with my hip!

Irresistible New Shoes

Two weeks ago, June turned into July. How is it July already?

I entered into my third week of physical therapy.

I could have guessed I would be impatient when it I heard the advice "take it easy and let your body heal." "Take it easy" isn't welcomed advice when you're already a few weeks behind on your training schedule. My PT advised I could run or do yoga if I could "do so without pain," but after dealing with this injury for a month going full steam, I knew I would need to tread lightly on that advise. 

So for over two weeks, I didn't work out.

Within a few days, I felt like this -

Going from 6-7 workouts a week to zero is a shock to the system. I find I'm not sleeping as well and have a harder time focusing as I continue on a hybrid of the marathon to couch program. 

Right before I started PT, I'd stopped in Universal Sole to grab a new pair of shoes. They were out of my size that day, so I gave my information to be called when a shipment came in. A week later, my shoes had arrived, but I wasn't ready to pick them up. I knew once I had them I would want to run. So I waited. 

That Thursday, I felt relatively good following therapy sessions earlier in the week. It was a beautiful morning and I'd taken the day off work. I just couldn't resist the new shoes sitting on my bench. 

I laid out an easy workout. I would walk over to the track a few blocks from my house and try our really slow running. If it bothered my hip, I would stop and just walk for awhile. 

As I walked over to the track in my new shoes, I was excited to try out the experiment but at the same time tried to prepare myself for the worst. I could go there and not be able to run ONE lap. If that happens, I can't be mad about it. Being mad doesn't help the injury heal. And if that happens, I can't cry about it because other people will see you and that will just be embarrassing. 

So I found a good song on my iPod and I started at a slow running pace, just above a fast walk. It felt good to be moving. I ran for 12 minutes and then walked for 2. I focused in on my hip. Was it more sore now? Was I in pain? I seemed ok, so I ran for another 8 minutes, then another break. Second check in - still seeming ok. Then finished off with a five minute run. 

Under normal circumstances, this is barely a work out. But on that sunny Thursday, it was the closest thing I'd had to normalcy in awhile. And it felt good.

Taking a Break

We all have our routines.

Our get ready for work routine.

A wind down for bed routine.

And likely, a workout routine.

Over the years, my workout routine has changed. From early evening tennis practice in high school to late evening runs in college, then on to trips to Lifetime Fitness in Orland for lifting, yoga, spin and/or a date with the elliptical. 

When I moved to the city, I opted to live close to the lake. The lakefront path would become my gym that year. In the years that followed, thousands of miles have been run on that path in the early morning hours. 

Running along the lakefront has become synonymous with my city identity. Yet lately, I've been spending a lot less time on the path, and following mid-June's PT assessment, no time on it at all. 

At first, taking a break was something I had elected to do. I wanted to do challenge myself with a new workout routine (and to be honest, I wasn't the least bit interested in outdoor runs this past winter). But more recently, I had plans to get back into my good, old summer routine on the lakefront. I was finally getting the bug to run again. 

But with this hip flare up, I'm holding off on training, at least temporarily. 

Electively taking a break is different than an injury breaks. No one requests an injury break. But as June turns in to July I'm trying to stay optimistic about what the future holds and what the next steps are. In the meantime, it's awfully strange to be sleeping in past 5am on Saturday mornings.

Admitting Injury

For the last few weeks, I've been trying to deny the obvious... I'm injured.

As a distance runner, injuries can happen often. Over time, you become an "expert" at identifying and successfully treating the most common of injuries - start with the RICE method, add in some Advil and maybe a few slower runs on a cushy track surface. 

Just when you think you're at the top of your game, an injury can find a way to to introduce itself into your body. Your expert assessment skills decide that it's no big thing. Keep training and things will work their way out. 

Four weeks ago, that was my state of mind. As time has gone on, my prognosis has become worse instead of better, limiting the quality and time I could spend running. 

So late last week I did what just about any endurance athlete has done at some point in their lives...I went to see a physical therapist. 

Physical therapy is a humbling experience. You're broken, but you're not sure how. During the first appointment, the PT is able to tell you what's failing you - a question you've been contemplating for awhile. In time and with your cooperation, they will massage, heat, cool and exercise you back to normal operation.

In an hour's time, the PT was able to make an assessment and had me work through my first series of exercises. Conclusion? Well, to start with, I have a weak right hip. This always puzzles me - aren't hips a big bone that's strong? Regardless, there's a reason why I'm in marketing and not the medical field.

I have a short series of exercises to do at home now. None of them are difficult looking on paper. Yet somehow, it's easier for me to balance on my forearms than to perform "clamshells" on my right side.

Looks like I have a lot of progress to make. I just wonder what kind of timeline I'm on. 

Are You Done Yet?

For a few years, I would open my email the day after Columbus Day to see an email from my uncle. "Congratulations," it would say. He'd read in the paper that I'd completed the Chicago Marathon. In his short-but-sweet email he would conclude with "Are you done yet?" as to ask the million dollar question - Have I decided to stop running marathons. 

My reply was usually less brief, but went on to say thank you for the email and I wasn't ready to quit just yet. After all, there was certainly something to take home from that weekend's race. Something that could make me a better/stronger/quicker runner. I wouldn't want to miss out on a chance to have next year be "my" year, would I?

I'm sure my post race thought process isn't all that different from the masses who run marathons these days. To run just one marathon is a life accomplishment. But to run another, well, now you have everything you learned from that first race at your disposal for what will probably be an even better race. Right? 

A few years ago, I thought long and hard about marathon retirement. I'd run five races. What else did I have left to prove? The question that was posed to me then was, "Are you prepared to be on the sidelines?" Well, I hadn't thought of it that way. I'll admit, it seemed quite foreign. 

Last year, Jeff and I ran two marathons two weeks apart. I finished Chicago within a few minutes of my PR and the Marine Corps Marathon was an experience I know I'll never forget. At the end of October last year I found myself wondering what, if anything, marathoning still had for me. There was one thing I did know - I needed a break. A six or eight week break turned into most of winter. Before I knew it, it was March and I'd barely ran since November. 

Eventually I did hit the road again. I gradually increased my mileage in the spring to prepare me for early June - the beginning of marathon training. 

During this time, I started experience a tightness in my hamstring and IT band. It would come and go, so I kept along with my running and yoga regimine. Until a few weeks ago when I felt a noticable difference while doing handstand kick ups in yoga. This was no longer business as usual. I've done my best to carry on as normal, hoping the injury (gasp) would mend on it's own. But this week I know that it's time for the physical therapist. 

I'm willing to bet, based on previous PT experience, that I'll be banned from running and yoga for a few weeks. This is the news I didn't want to hear and why I have gone up until this point carrying on training with an injury. I can't stand sitting around.

So what does this mean for the yoga studio and the two marathons I've signed up for this year? There's really no way to tell now. For the time being, I'll have some time to catch up on Netflix. As June turns into July or August, I'll need to make a judgement call. 

I may find myself telling my uncle that I am in fact done with marathoning after all. 

Taper Panic

Early this morning, I was on the bus headed to work.

A majority of the time I doze off on the bus. I welcome the bus ride most days. It breaks apart my work like and home life. I catch up on social media, emails, maybe even read up on the government shut down.

Today I was wide awake and my mind was racing. Here's what it was thinking -

A pain has developed down the left side of my neck which has my sleep schedule in flux. 

After the first few days of the pain, I went to my massage therapist. He worked through the problem area and checked my alignment. The suggestions - stand up straight. No more purse on the shoulder. Stay away from caffeine and sugar. And possibly try - seeing a chiropractor or a muscle relaxer. 

The first two recommendations are easy. Staying away from caffeine and sugar is pretty challenging, but I'm trying to reduce as much as possible. Then there's the chiro and muscle relaxers. I'm reluctant to do either. 

When I was a kid, I was always the tallest one in the class. It remained that way until high school when finally some of the basketball and football players were taller.  Being tall at a young age has it's pros and cons. One con being that for whatever reason, if you are tall, you're almost automatically on the scoliosis watch list. 

Did anyone else have that in middle school or junior high? I don't remember if they ever explained what it was to us, but rather that we had a screening. I'd had my hearing and vision checked at school and nothing bad had happened. But the scoliosis screen was different. After being reviewed in a makeshift exam room covered by sheet partitions in the gym, I was given a colored slip. I remember bring the only one in my class who got one.

 I was officially on the watch list.

In 5th or 6th grade, I was pretty sure scoliosis meant death. Why am I the only messed up one? This is what I get for being tall? I didn't even ask to be tall. 

For years there after, I was checked and screened regarding the spine. And I hated every minute of it. That is, up until it ended (as in, the screening stopped). Then I was free. 

Every time I see a chiropractor's office set up for a free screening, I think back to middle school. Certainly they will find something wrong with me. Then I'll have adjustment appointments for life. 

But I trust my massage therapist. So I guess I should do it. 

Then there's muscle relaxers. I know they have their purpose and some people swear by them. I'm more focused on getting to the source of the pain than masking the pain. I don't think it's the solution for me.

Especially not when I have a race Sunday.

Hope it magically goes away by then.

In Between Races

This year, I'm mixing things up.

I waiver between thinking my change of pace is completely awesome or completely and utterly dumb.

I've registered for two marathons...14 days apart.

The Chicago Marathon is this Sunday, October 13th. I'm proud to say this is my hometown marathon. 

When I first started training for a marathon, my goal was to run Chicago once. I was inspired to run Chicago after watching my uncle run the race while I was in high school. Talk about a memory that has lasted nearly a lifetime.

I've thought about not running Chicago. I could, per say, run a marathon somewhere else. Maybe another big city marathon. But the thing that always brings me back is what a great, I mean fantastic, race Chicago is. How can I not run Chicago when it's so damn convenient? 

It would be like me telling you I don't like the new Trader Joe's location in Evanston. It has everything every other TJ's has but its in my backyard. No more traveling to Lakeview or Glenview for my Orange Chicken, Mango Salsa, Cookie Butter and everything else uniquely Trader Joe's that I now cannot live without. Location is key. Being in my car less makes me happy. Big win for TJ's Evanston (even if your parking lot is sort of a nightmare).

No really, Chicago truly is an outstanding race.  One in which I am lucky enough to sleep in my own bed the night before, jump on the same train I take often to work and can navigate downtown better than any other city. Huge pluses, er stars. 

So when Chicago's registration opened in February, I was one of the lucky few who got in without registration issues. Chicago Marathon #6 was confirmed. 

A number of weeks later, registration for the Marine Corps Marathon opened. This was the race I had my eyes on this year. Though the registration process proved challenging, I had a registration confirmation before the race sold out. 

And then, back in March, suddenly I had two marathons two weeks apart. 

So, to the question everyone is asking me - How are you training in between?

Well, that's a great question. One in which I've done maybe a half hour of research on so far. My first source was Hal Higdon. Hal's the man. His training programs have gotten me through five marathons and probably two dozen halves, so if he says he has a plan for two marathons two weeks part, I'm just going to go with it. One day, after my thirty minutes of research concluded, I wrote down the run schedule on a napkin and pinned it to my cork board in my office. Very official. 

I've talked with a few friends who've done multiple marathons in a condensed period, including my friend George, a man who knocks out two marathons in two states in a weekend on a regular basis. The wisdom passed along to me so far has been to pick one race as my goal race.  The other is just for fun. What if goal race and fun effort are the same? I'm trying to wrap my head around that. 

My plan thus far goes something like this. Run Chicago. Don't die. Don't get sick. Don't get injured. Run a smart race (mainly this means listen to your body - my body doesn't like heat). Drink beer after crossing finish line and start honing in on best recovery practices for 13 days. Go for a long massage the next day. Maybe another before boarding the plane to DC. Drink lots of fluids. Stretch. Try to jog it out like Hal instructed. Attend a moderate yoga class (tone down the arm balances or inversions at The Lab if needed). Eat a lot and anything I want, cause, I just bought myself two more weeks of it. 

The end. 

Let's see how this works (or doesn't). 

SOSing the Massage Therapist

There comes a point in training where things that were once way down on the to-do list go right to the top.

Case in point last week - A desperate need for a massage. 

I'd run four miles on Tuesday morning with the same dull ache in my hip I've had for a few weeks. Weather was cool with low humidity. I felt pretty good. 

On Wednesday, I went out to run five at lunch. About two miles in, the run turned into a run/walk. Then with breaks to stretch. My right quad and IT were getting tight. 

I stretched as best as I could and rested that evening, hoping the phantom pain would disappear. 

Thursday morning the exact opposite thing happened. The muscle tightness caused me to reach for my phone and text my massage therapist at 6am. In an act of true desperation, I hoped that he had some time to fit me in that evening. 

Luckily, he did.

That evening, he checked my alignment and discovered something was off. My left hip was higher than my right and in turn, made my left leg shorter. This is not something he had ever noticed before, including when I was in to see him five weeks ago. 

After an hour of stretching and massage, I was sore but hopeful. I have to remind myself this is the hardest period of training. These things happen. But how did this happen? Did I push myself too hard in yoga? Am I sitting in a bad position at my desk? I'm searching for an answer. 

In the meantime, I've traded my desk chair in for an oversized exercise ball and rekindled my romance with the foam roller.

To Jam or not to Jam?

For as long as I can remember, I've loved music.

Vinyl albums as a young child and cassette tapes in grade school. Then came along the dual cassette player (and the ability to create a mix tape). CDs in junior high and high school. CD burners and MP3's in college.

I remember bringing my cherry red GE walkman to elementary school. I'd received it as a Christmas gift from my aunt and uncle along with my first Madonna tape. When recess time came, I walked around listening to music instead of hanging out with other kids. It was handy on the bus throughout high school, too.

In college the no-skip Discman was a backpack utility as I walked to and from class. Not to mention a great aide as I labored for hours in the design and photo labs.

 

The digital music player invention changed the way many of us worked out. Being mobile with music was no longer any different than moving around the world without it. Your digital music player could be Velcro'd around your arm and provided an hour or two of music (and unlike it's predecessor, no skipping).

Today, the iPod (or iPhone) has become as much a part of the runners outfit as shorts and shoes. So the question of this post still remains - Do you run with music or without? And it's ok if you say both.

Throughout my training career, I've come and gone in waves with music. There's certain activities where you can't have music (cycling, yoga and swimming), some where you can (lifting, running) and others where it's a gray area (races).

My current habit is to run with music when I'm running alone and run without music when running with someone. I seem to get the best of both worlds this way. My latest playlist keeps me moving during those early morning weekday solo runs. Then I enjoy catching up with a friend or discussing our breakfast plans with the CARA training group.

If I ran with music all the time, I'd probably catch less of each conversation. There would be a lot of jokes and happenings I would have missed over the last eight or so years. Those moments created memories which created friendships.  I may have missed an important safety notice on the lakefront path like "bike back" or "group passing" which could have led to yet another avoidable injury.

 So, though music and I have had a lifetime love affair, I'm going to use it sparingly while running.

3 Dresses in 72 Hours

Ok, I'll admit it - I'm a tomboy at heart.

I've always preferred sports to fashion.

I've cringed at the thought of modeling.

I don't really know much about make-up.

A pony tail is my favorite hair style.

(So, my true calling in life must have been to be a runner, don't you see?)

But a few weeks ago, I had to man-up to the call of being a woman and wear a dress. Three days in a row.
I don't know how I didn't see this coming weeks before - A black tie event on Thursday, rehearsal dinner on Friday and a wedding on Saturday.

You know what the problem is with being a true girl over being a tomboy? Maintenance. It's easy to maintain a tomboy life. A relatively comfortable range of clothes, ballet flats, no make-up, wash-and-go hair and a toothbrush. All your needs can fit in a backpack for an overnight trip.

But then there's those dress days. They require taking on the roll of being a true girl which requires nail polish, manicures, teeth whitening, mascara, bronzer, eyeliner, ipad (to watch videos on how to do hair and make-up of course), dry cleaning, earrings and more. Then there's the dainty purse to fit all your womanly crap in. It's all a game you can't win.

Men have it so easy. Suits, collared shirts and dress shoes with gym shoe comfort. While they stand around comfortably and look sharp, women are walking by with their feet jammed into shoes that were not meant to be worn.

Thoughts of plantar fasciitis are running through my head - and more importantly - when will it be acceptable to ditch the heels for the flats I have squirreled under the table? Also, can I ditch the wine I'm drinking and get a beer now? Are we at that point in the night?

I may have had a dream or two or ten about my running shoes, shorts and a sleeveless tech tee in that three day time frame. I just might have. 

Tiny Injuries & the Ego

Though we hate to admit it, injuries do happen.

They aren't welcomed when they appear and they're even less appreciated during their stay in our bodies. When they leave, we don't throw them a farewell party. They 'move on' and so to we (and quite happily we go along without them).

My close friend Margo is training for her second marathon. She ran her first marathon a number of years ago. Now she's juggling two young children, a husband, a career and training. On days when I'm up early running, she's often already posted a photo of her sunrise lakefront run. She has a training plan and determination.

What sideline's her carefully thought-out plan is tiny injuries. A finger sprain. A swollen toe. Annoyances. How hard is it not to let injuries affect your training ego? Very hard.

If the conversation going on in your head about your injury isn't enough to drive you to the couch, there's those friends and family members who recommend the end all be all solution - just quit.

They tell you that you're not cut out for the training. Your body is telling you not to. Maybe you hear the catch-all 'swimming is really the best activity for you' line. But whatever you've been doing for exercise that you love (running, riding, whatever), you should just quit doing that. Because that makes complete sense. Instead, apparently, you should bump up your cable package and prepare yourself for a sedentary life.

Hopefully the determined fighter in you isn't talked into hanging up your running shoes just yet. You seek out opinions from athletic friends, explaining your current aliment. Your friend can manage to talk you off the cliff about 90% of the time. Pretty good odds. They bring along war stories and suggestions for exercises. The underlying message is that in a short time, you will bounce back from this. The same amount of time might seem like a lifetime to you in your current state.

So stay with it, you Margo's of the world, tomorrow's a new day. And next week is a new lifetime.

The [Almost] Shuffle

I've ran the Shamrock Shuffle on and off for the last eight years. Off years were when the Shuffle conflicted with a vacation or worse, I was injured.

I was prepared to run it again this year, remembering last years warm temperatures and my standing 8k PR. I'm more than ready to say goodbye to winter weather right about now.

Wednesday, I joined a fun run from the new Universal Sole location in Lakeshore East. The 3.5 mile loop took us down to run right on the lake's edge as opposed to the bike path closer to Lake Shore Drive. As I ran that night, I thought about how I never think to run down right on the water like that. Maybe I'd start mixing it up a bit.

The following day, I met a friend for a lunch run date. I met her about a mile in to my run and we headed south. Again, we went along the water's edge. The weather was so beautiful I had tied my coat around my waist. We were in a conversation about our Easter weekends when it happened. All in slow motion. My right ankle buckled and I began to lose my balance - Oh no. This is happening. Again.

We regrouped in the grass and I assessed the sprain. Could I walk it off? I thought so. We continued south for a few minutes, then picked up running again. We ran another 6 miles together.

By the time I returned to the office, my ankle was getting stiff. Unfortunately, I know this process all too well. So much so that I have provisions at work to RICE (rest, ice, elevate, compress).

Though I was disappointed in my klutzy performance, I hoped that this little fall wouldn't sideline my Shuffle plans. After all, it was only Thursday.

Fast forward to tonight. I decided just this evening, after reading more online, taking to my massage therapist and trying to think of the bigger training picture, that I won't run the race tomorrow morning. Though my ankle seems to be on the mend, a week of no running is probably the best remedy to ensure it has a chance to heal.

Dave tried to console me by saying, "it's just the Shuffle. It's not the (Chicago) marathon or Marine Corps (marathon)." He's right. The Shuffle is not my 'A' race this year. But I remember not so long ago when it was. I think it's a great event that gives many runners a big city race feel.

The most difficult part about not running tomorrow is that I am forfeiting my commitment to run the race. That's unlike me. No matter what race I've signed up for over the years, I've always been there on race day. Ok, there was one Soldier Field 10 I had to pass on due to an injury, but its the only race I can think of. Tomorrow will be two.

[No So] Perfect 10

Last year was the Chicago Perfect 10's first year.

It was held on the same weekend this year.

Brian and I started on Saturday being just a month out from running the marathon. Just like last year.

Yet this year, for some reason, it didn't start out like last year's race.

Very early on in this race I had a feeling we wouldn't be pulling the 9:40 average we had last year.

Talk about starting the race off on the wrong foot.

I think Brian could have left me in the dust many miles before the finish. But he didn't, because, well, that's not Brian's style usually.

As we ran, we discussed why today's effort (though it wasn't exactly over yet, was it?) wasn't going to compare to last year.

The number one reason being that neither of our drank three the night before. We did what? What were we thinking? We spent all of last winter and spring testing this groundbreaking hypothesis and conducting hours of self analysis. Yet we throw it out the window and have just one drink the night before the Perfect 10? Honestly, what were thinking?

And for some reason that paragraph reads as a script for a political ad. Farewell, election season, farewell. 

I've had some tightness and strain in my right calf ever since the 20 miler in September. I nursed it along and ran through a dull pain during the marathon. I said that afterwards I would do what I always read about - give my body a break from running. That theory lasted three days. I somehow manage to forget that it's been bothering me until I warm up around a mile and some change, then wham, it's throbbing.

But for some reason, during the Perfect 10, I didn't have any pain. I was hopeful that I could chalk up this slow and average run turning a corner on recovery. That was, until today when I ran and had another flare up.

PT, looks like you're getting a call. Soon.

Hello, Soleus

The 20 miler is a lot of things.

Kind isn't one of them.

You can be at the starting line seemingly injury free, yet manage to tweak something in that long journey to the finish.

I've strained my calf before. I've had an inflamed achilles tendon as well.

This time the issue was the soleus. Do you know about the soleus? I certainly didn't.

I've never taken an anatomy class, but I'm pretty sure I can outline every muscle in the legs after distance running for the last seven or so years.

Post 20 mile run, I got a lower leg massage and followed up with RICE (rest, ice, compression and elevation) over the next few days.

Though there was a bit of swelling, the RICE method seemed to do me some good.

Two days of rest followed by a new pair of running shoes arriving in the mail.

Now you know I can't resist breaking them in...

Damn You, piriformis!

On Good Friday, I woke up early and got my 9 mile long run out of the way.

It was my first run testing out Motorola's Motoactiv. My first test product. Thanks Motorola! I'm not going to blog too much about the device yet as I think it's only fitting I use it many times before writing a fair review. But I will say this - Out of the box, it had music loaded and was ready to go - literally. For some reason, that made me really happy.

Not the best 9 miler of my life. I dressed too warm. I was in a rush.

I got home, showered, threw my bag in the car and started driving south. Far south. Hundreds and hundreds of miles.

Around mile 100 I was feeling a bit stiff. Then it dawned on me. I didn't stretch after my run. I too often forget to do this.

I'd had a stiffness in my hip earlier in the week which I hadn't given enough thought to.

Over the weekend, it throbbed more.

Now the drive back from my southern destination was really the killer. My hip hurt when I drove. Because driving requires use of your hips? Who knew? Either way, not a good sign.

Again, not thinking, I rest on Monday and Tuesday. I reintroduce myself to the foam roller. Do some basic yoga. Then out of boredom, do back to back runs later that next week.

The hip's still not liking me. Now I'm listening.

Advil, ice, rest, try to compress, and yes, foam roller, we're hanging out during the 10 o'clock news.