Like a very graceful ballerina, I tripped and fell on my hands and knee while running towards my car this morning!

   

Did I fall while running? Like a runner? No! I fell while running from the auto place to my car! I'm a little proud that I hit my right knee, since I always fall on my left when actually running (like a runner). The hands are new, though. That hurts, still. I fell nine hours ago. I keep looking at the concrete accusingly. And thinking, "Don't fall now. It's going to hurt so bad."

Here's a fun picture of the copper carbonate I used to mix up a low-fire glaze on Monday. 

Try not to think about my wounds.

Compression

I think putting compression socks on after each run has completely changed my recovery process. I went for an easy three miler this morning, having given myself a day of recovery. I wore a pair of (I'm not ashamed) mens compression socks that I bought for cheap off of amazon for a while after that run (because I forgot to take them off before going grocery shopping), and the run I had today was easy and fast. Maybe the easiest post-long-run run that I remember. I'm glad this is an easy week, though. I pushed my running last week, and I'm proud of myself.

Source: Amazon.com

Yesterday was my last outdoor craft market (SoWa, for Bostonians) for the season. It was another rainy market, but I think that actually benefits me, at the end of the day. Having done a few rainy markets and a few sunny ones, here's what I've noticed:

• People are a bit friendlier when the weather is bad. Customers are appreciative and maybe even grateful that we, the vendors, have come out at all (this is heightened by there being noticeably few vendors yesterday).
• The perusers who do come out to the market are looking to buy. When the weather is bad, it's not a pleasant window-shopping Sunday stroll around the South End. It's business.
• Vendors are friendlier to each other. There's a bit of a sense that "we're all in this together" amongst vendors, and we share stories, appreciate each others wares, and help each other out. This might also be due to having more time to talk to each other with fewer customers around.

When I did the Bazaar Bizarre Boston last year I didn't talk to anyone except customers until the last forty-five minutes of the market, because I just didn't have time to even look around. For a good four hours of the seven that we were there, we were just ringing up one sale after another.

I'm glad to be done with markets until December. It's time to buckle down and make.

On the schedule for today:

• 9-1, Mudflat, doing work for them (kiln unloading, scraping shelves, loading up again, etc.
• 1-5, Mudflat, doing work for me (trimming, throwing, figuring out how this last glazing went, and what choices to make next time.
• 6:30-8:30, group supervision for art therapy. I'm 10 hours away from fulfilling my requirements to get my ATR (registered art therapist), which would allow me to have more letters after my name. Letters = respect, and potentially more money. 

Let's go.

Developing

Yesterday I ran SEVEN miles, for the first time since my stress fracture. It felt so damn good to rack up the miles. To hear that voice on my mile-tracking app tell me "Seven..Miles..Completed." and to feel like I could keep going. To run on the river again. I missed the feeling of being able to just start running and feel confident that I can keep going.

In other news, I've been logging at least twenty hours a week at my ceramics studio. I've taken a training position there, in that I'm a part of how the studio runs. For example - a typical Monday consists of:

• unloading the glaze kiln (it's a 54 square foot kiln)
• scraping down the kiln shelves (it's my favorite thing to do)
• loading the bisque kiln (careful not to break anything)
• wedging up at least 50 pounds of recycled clay
• four hours of my own work (trimming, throwing new pieces)
• miscellaneous tasks like wiping down empty carts and consolidating shelves and carts

The more time I spend at the studio, the more I want to make it my full time job. I want to document the time I spend at the studio, and working on my art, and see how it develops. Here's some in-process work!

Liner glazes in the mugs, and lots of tiny bowls.

Slow

Several things are developing at once. it's a little overwhelming, so I'll try to map it here.

First of all, back to running, finally. Fits and starts. I started with week 3 of the running 101 podcast, because it added up to 15 minutes of running, which is closer to what my PA recommended. I did my first run on a treadmill, and was bored out of my mind, but curious to watch my form in the mirror. My feet hit on the outside edges. I'm surprised I don't have runner's knee (knock on wood) from my odd form. Since that first run, I walked to work for two consecutive days in my rain boots and did something weird to the tendon on my left foot that connects to my big toe. It would hurt when I pressed on it, and would ache a bit while walking. It hurts more the day after a run, but after a week of walking and very little pain, I ran today. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I moved on to week 4 of running 101. 20 minutes of running total, with minute walking breaks every four minutes. I got so bored I started skipping walking breaks, doing two intervals of 4 minutes, one of 9, and one of 4. Two intervals of 4, and one of 14. When I noticed my foot wasn't feeling better, I took a few days off. Then, over the weekend, I headed to New York City to spend a few days with my mom (she met me there), and walked all over the Village, Soho, Chelsea, Nolita, and then up around the museums. Ate really great food, saw amazing art and a Sunday matinee showing of Death of a Salesman (with Andrew Garfield and Phillip Seymour Hoffman). A pretty stellar weekend, and after a delayed bus ride with no napping, I made it home to S around seven last night.

This morning was my final day of week 4, in which I ran one interval of four minutes, and two of nine minutes. Thursday, (my birthday) I'll start week 5, three intervals of eight minutes. I'm excited. I had hoped to be able to run three miles again by my birthday, but I'm getting there.

Next: clay.
Excitingly, I have six markets this summer and autumn at which to sell my ceramics. So I've been furiously working away at the studio, making mugs and tiny bowls (big sellers) and a few big bowls (for myself and my creative/artistic pursuits). I just got accepted to the SoWa Markets for five Sundays between June and October, which means I need to buy:
* 10'x10' white tent (EZ-UP, preferably)
* (4) 40lb tent weights (and fill them with sand)
* Folding table (because one six foot table under a ten foot tent will look so sad)
* 2 new tablecloths (White? Off-white? Need to make the goods pop)

Finally: work.
S and I are driving cross-country in July, which, there and back with a wedding in the middle, will take the month. When I come back, I will not be staying in the same position here. Whether that means I don't have a job or I do is unclear. That one's still in development. We'll see.

For now, I'm having a birthday on Thursday, and going out to T.W. Food for dinner. My favorite restaurant, and my (I think) 3rd birthday in a row dining there. I hope we get the same table.

X-rays and MRIs

This morning was my follow-up x-ray to see how my stress fracture has healed. I showed up, and my PA showed me images from the MRI. Terrifying. As he pointed out, the bones of my leg and forefoot were black in the MRI image, but the area around my heel was all white due to fluid and inflammation. In an alternate view, the bones were white except for a jagged black line that seemed to separate my heel from the rest of my foot. That, he told me, was the stress fracture. It looked so severe and huge, and reminded me how strange that I wasn't in pain at all when the MRI was done.


So, a quick x-ray was on the docket for today. I was seated on a table and two x-rays were taken, one from the side, and one from the sole of my foot.


Within minutes I was back with my PA, and he was pointing out the white smudgy line indicating that my heel was healing.


"BUT," he said, "It takes 3 months to totally heal. You're looking good, so you can start to walk to work again, but a week or two more on the elliptical is in order, and then you can start running."


So it should look like this: 2 more weeks on the elliptical. Then slowly running a mile, then taking the next day off to see how it feels. Stay at 1 mile runs for a week or two, then increase to 1.5 mile runs.
I'm thinking that I'll start the Running101 podcast from week 4 after a week more on the elliptical, and I'll do it on a treadmill. (refresher: week 4 is four intervals of four minutes running at an easy pace, with recovery walks in between. I'll do the podcast for a few weeks on the treadmill, then switch to outside.


And new shoes. Any suggestions? I pronate slightly, and need extra support for my heels. Thoughts? I'm open to anything.

One week countdown

That run was a mistake. Not that I had any physical repercussions, but that I was not not not supposed to go for it. Later in the morning I got a phone call from my PA, saying "call me back immediately, and don't run." The results were in by 9am, and they were important enough to call first thing. Stress fracture in my left heel. Though there's no pain (and there's been none since, it's only started to heal.

One week until my follow-up x-ray to determine that my heel has healed (the healing is visible in an x-ray, but the fracture is only visible in an MRI). One week until I'm told "good to go" and get back to running, or am delayed even further. It's been more than two months, and I'm pretty sure I've lost all my fitness. The day after my MRI, when I took a two mile run, I felt it in my legs for a few days. And then to be told "don't run, whatever you do." No hiking! No dancing! No jumping! Along with running, those are three of my favorite things! To compensate, I go back to the gym. Yesterday I did some squats and lunges while holding weights, and whoo, my thighs. They hurt.

I miss my running body! As a female with a history of body issues, I really developed a new relationship with my body having run. I appreciated my body more, because this is the body that lets me run. I need it, I take care of it, I love it, and it loves me back by running, and telling me what it can and cannot take. I felt much more connected to my body. Not having run in two-plus months, I'm critical again. I'm thinking about the scale. I'm thinking about food as calories that need to be counted, as opposed to fuel that helps me run and tastes good.

I miss being able to get out there, listen to music and be mindful of the moment. I'm still on the look-out for good running songs, and find my taste in music has changed a lot since starting to run. I want things that have a good beat. That are peppy. I've started to shy away from the sad man with his guitar. Unless it's runable. My standards are flexible. Fleet Foxes are okay for running. My goodness, "Helplessness Blues"? Ran to it. "The Bad in Each Other" off of the new Feist album (not a man, obviously)? Ran to it. But oh, the newest Iron & Wine? No thank you. Not yet.

I'll get back out soon. Sooner than later, I hope hope hope.

Getting back in it.

I laced up my shoes this morning, and not to get on the elliptical!
After my MRI last night (at 9pm, holy hell. More on that in a minute.) I got home and feeling really beat down by an all-over exhausting day, I decided I was going to try running in the morning. Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but I'm proud of myself, and sticking to my decision.

Yesterday was mentally and physically exhausting. Lots of changes happening at work, aside from the general difficulty of my job, and I really wanted a bit of a mental break. I've been going to the gym every morning (Monday through Friday at 5am, Sunday at 8am) for three weeks (before that it was 5 days a week, not 6), on the elliptical or stationary bike, and I had reached my breaking point. I'm tired, sluggish, bored, and needed a change. I was going to take this morning off, but after yesterday... Well.

It took two weeks from seeing a doctor to get an MRI, and at this point I am 100% pain-free. In fact, I was pain free about three days after seeing the doctor, but had been advised against running. I got to the office at 8:30 last night (in Kenmore Square, in Boston. First time driving myself on Storrow! Got all turned around and honked at!) for a 9:00pm MRI. My first MRI, and I had been warned about how loud it would be. Understatement. The technitian gave me a choice of music, and I went for Abbey Road (that's The Beatles, you youngun.) and could barely hear the lyrics when the machine was doing its thing.

It was remarkably hard to keep still. Being told "Don't do [x]" makes it neigh-impossible for me to think of anything else. Yom Kippur has always been difficult for this reason. So, "Try not to move your foot" made me hyper-aware of my foot, and how badly I wanted to twitch it. (BUT I DIDN'T. Amazing.) It was over by the very beginning of "I Want You (She's so Heavy)," which was faster than I anticipated. Results should come in today, but that didn't stop me from lacing up this morning.

First run back after five (FIVE) weeks off of running was so hard. Hard because my legs felt heavy. Hard because I felt slow. Hard because I could feel that I'm not where I was a month ago. Hard because this Sunday was going to be my first half-marathon.

I ran two miles. They felt great. I have to be okay with taking things slowly.

Return

Triumphant!

When I last wrote on here, I had just finished my first 5k, and was excited that I had continued to run.

Fast forward 8 months, and let me fill in the gaps.

S and I decided to try running a 10k, so we downloaded an additional training program which promised a 10k in six weeks. By the 3rd week I was a wreck. I couldn't run more than 4 miles, and I was feeling horrible about myself. So I took about a month and a half and just ran what was comfortable: two intervals of twelve minutes, 20 minutes of straight running, etc. Until September rolled around. S and I went to Essex for a weekend wedding extravaganza. In attendance were all of his college friends, and no one I really knew, so I took the opportunity to wake early and run along some trails and less-travelled roads. i ended up running 4.15 miles, and feeling awesome about it. I took that as the assurance I needed to start building my milage.
I started waking up around 5 am every other day, and once on the weekend. I slowly built my milage from 10 miles a week to what it is now: 25 miles a week! That breaks down to, on average, five miles three days a week, and a long run of 10 miles on Sundays. I've run 10 four times now, and I feel amazing about it.

Unfortunately, S needed to stop running in July due to a pretty severe plantar faceitis injry, and is just now starting up again with me. He's marvalled at how good my form has become, and how much faster I am. I've gone from averaging an 11 minute mile to just under 10. in short bursts (I've run a few short intervals with him), I'm averaging about 8:30/mile.

After my crazy long runs, S makes my my favorite meal ever.

Two eggs over-easy, with sharp cheddar on top, apple butter underneath, on toasted brioche (in this photo, the brioche was made by me! My 2011 new years resolution.)

The most satisfying, filling, warming, delicious meal.

Here's hoping I keep going.

First race (of hopefully many)

June 5th, we ran our first road race – the Boston AIDS Walk and 5k. To say it was awesome would be an understatement, so allow me to be a bit more loquacious.

We woke up at 7, and got out of the house by seven thirty. Check in/registration began by the hatch shell at seven thirty, and we hadn’t paid yet. So, quick T ride to Charles/MGH on the redline, and a brisk walk to the Esplanade. We registered quickly (there were so few people there that early that we just walked up and paid), got our numbers (!!! Our first numbers!!!), and sat around, waiting for a friend/co-worker to join us. We applied lots of sunscreen, I used the bathroom repeatedly (nervous peeing), and before we knew it, we were doing giant group warm-up stretches on the grass in front of the hatch shell.

The race started promptly at 9:50. As we were walking to line up – and there were about 750 runners – the announcer said “So, 6-minute pace up front, so on and so on, you know the drill,” and I laughed because we did not know the drill at all! So we stayed at the back, and waited for the starting bell. When it came, everyone surged forward, and since we were so far back we ended up walking for the first half-minute. Finally we were on Storrow drive, and running on the street. It was amazing to see hundreds of runners all around us, all moving towards the same destination, and humbling to see everyone pass us. I knew S would be able to move faster, but my pace is just so slow right now. There were a few short hills, mostly amazing views, and before we knew it we saw the two mile marker. From about 2.5 miles to the end there were signs on the side of the track marking off years, and what had happened in history relating to AIDS in that year. So somber but celebratory – we were running towards a cure.

I kept picking fights with S throughout the race, urging him to go forward, but he wouldn’t leave me. We had trained together, so we would race together. This would be the last time we would be able to run together – I feel too guilty holding him back. I just kept kicking myself, feeling horrible that this was a GOOD time for me, but a gentle pace for him. We finished in 35’15”, which is decent for a first run. As soon as we stopped at the finish line, and walked for a minute, we both felt like we could start up again. It makes me wonder – is it better to run farther at a slower pace, or faster for a shorter amount of time? I’ll figure it out in time.. The best feeling – knowing we were running for a purpose. Second best – coming home, showering, and staging a birthday picnic with my husband and friends. That was pretty special.


A co-worker of mine asked today if I had kept running, and was pleased to learn that I had. Yesterday S and I woke early in the morning to run 3.25 (in 35 minutes!!!!) before heading to work.

Birthday extravaganza!

In honor of National Running Day (which was June 2nd), I ran my first attempt of week three of 5K 101. That’s 30 minutes of straight running, preceded and followed by five minutes of walking. I was surprised by how easy it was. Around the sixth minute I had the thought, “it’s going to be impossible to do this for a whole half hour,” but by the time I got to Harvard, I was thrilled. I made it a point to run as slowly as possible in the beginning, which was difficult, since the soundtrack for week eight is really quite invigorating. By the time Todd told me I had finished 19 minutes, I decided to push it a bit for the last ten, checking my pace every so often on my Nike+ app, which told me I was holding a 6mph pace quite steadily. I felt so good that when Todd told me I had completed my 30 minutes and could cool down, I just kept going. I ended up running for about 33 minutes, and with my warm-up walk, I covered over three miles.

I’m so pumped for the 5k S and I are running on Sunday. It’s going to be my first road race, my first 5k, my first of so many things, and I'm thrilled. I never believed I could be this person.

Tuesday was my twenty-eighth birthday, and I went to yoga to celebrate. It was an “intermediate” class at O2 Yoga, so I was a bit worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up. I’ve been to many yoga classes, but who doesn’t question themselves? So, it’s 80 degrees in Somerville, I’ve raced home from work to make this class, and I took S’s new mat with me, since mine is old and has little cushioning. As soon as we get into our first downward facing dog, I know I’m going to be struggling. My hands were so slick with sweat that I was inching forward on my mat, needing to jerk myself back every few breathes. It would have been comical if it weren’t so frustrating. About halfway through the class the instructor noted how hot it was in the room – huzzah! It’s not just me! – and apologized. She tried to turn the fan on, she tried to prop open the door, but no, I was too far away from all efforts to have it make any difference. So I sweat my way through a 75-minute class, and cooled off on my walk home, where I was met with a beautiful bouquet of ranunculus, Queen Anne’s lace, and white lilacs from S.

We capped the day with an amazing dinner at T.W. Food, a tiny restaurant in Cambridge where we had gone for dinner for his birthday two years ago.

The best memory of the dinner was dessert: for me – a strawberry gratin. Rhubarb compote on the bottom, macerated strawberries, and custard on top that had been broiled a bit. All covered with a lemon sauce – kind of a sweet/sour assault on the taste buds. For S – Scotch and Cigars – two beignets, a canelle of tobacco ice cream, doused in a scotch sauce, and a demitasse cup of ganache. Decadent. The dinner itself was a delight, with delicious bread served with fresh butter and a garnish of large-flake salt, two great appetizers and entrees, an amuse bouche, and financiers with the check.

Divine. Added to my annual birthday song from my husband, and it was an amazing day.

Almost at the 5k.

So, Friday we went for run 2 of week 7 of our 5k101 challenge. It was 87 degrees outside, we were trying to move as quickly as possible out the door, S was sick, and I was, well. Fine, I was fine. But in my defense, I was on day 2 of no caffeine, with a residual panicky feeling from having about seven shots of espresso on Wednesday. Additionally, I try to drink as little as possible before heading to New York so that there can be fewer pit-stops. There was one time where, stuck on the bus, I had to pee so badly I actually tried to ask the Chinese bus driver if we were almost at the McDonalds. We weren't. I considered getting the woman with the baby in front of me to tell the driver there was a baby-related emergency so we'd have to stop. Don't worry. I made it. But still, it was enough to made me purposely dehydrated myself before any bus ride. I'm an idiot, I know.

Cut to the third interval of running for twelve minutes, me completely dehydrated, and feeling like I'm about to vomit. I haven't vomited in twenty-one years, and I'm not starting now, so I had to stop running. S kindly asked if he could keep going, and I watched him run on without me. I kept listening to the podcast, hating myself, and trying to start up again. However, each time I started, I felt like the upper part of my stomach was shaking with every step, threatening to work its way out of my throat. Too gross? It was awful. So, I eventually met S at the end of the run, really disappointed in myself, just ready to get on the road. A reminder: S was ill during this run, and he finished. I don't think I'm completely crazy for kicking myself.

There followed an amazing weekend in New York and on the New Jersey shore (I had never heard of Manasquan, but I'm happy to have experienced it), which will be detailed once I upload the pictures.

Today: we got home from New York, filled with an amazing brunch from The Farm, (I split poached eggs + grits and strawberry french toast with my awesome brother in law) one of my favorite brunch places in Ditmas Park/Kenzington, in Brooklyn, and decided to get on the road. I needed to redeem myself from Friday's run. Redemption was going to come by way of FINISHING the run - not by doing it fast. So slow and steady we needed to move - for the sake of my pride and of S's health.

And finish we did! It's such a great feeling; setting a goal and meeting it. Little steps, reminding me that I'm capable of doing more than I think sometimes.

We're 7 days from our 5K. Thrilled and scared. Mostly thrilled.

Well, that was a day.

Today was day one of week 7 of the 5k 101 training. Three 12-minute runs, with three-minute recoveries in between. S and I ended up covering almost 4 miles, which is unbelievable. I can’t believe how far I’ve come. Beginning with four 2-minute jogs (the first was on April 15th). And now here we are. We’re running our first 5k on June 5th, less than a week after my 28th birthday. Twenty-eight. The closer it gets the older it feels.

The run was fantastic. The first interval was a bit tough, as usual, for the first four minutes. After that I had worked to convince myself that running felt good after four minutes, so it was a treat. That first interval took us into Harvard Square, across from the Harvard Bookstore. The second interval took us into Inman Square, and the third took us home. We covered more than 5k! Maybe almost 7k!

All this came on the tail of a long day at work. Have I explained my job? I work as an art therapist/clinical educator at a prominent mental institution/psychiatric hospital in Massachusetts. I work with adolescents, average age of 16. So, today, Wednesday, May 25, 2011, was a tough one. One co-educator has been out all week with the flu, so we, the remaining educators, were stretched a little thin. I was thrilled to come home. And this run was on five hours of sleep!

See, my husband and I got tickets to see Chris Thile and Michael Daves at the Brighton Music Hall last night. “An evening with Chris Thile,” they called it, and the due played two sets, about 2.5 hours of smoking bluegrass. Daves has this great “high lonesome,” as S calls, it. It’s a clean, clear, no-vibrato falsetto, which is such CLASSIC bluegrass. And Thile is a prodigy on the mandolin. I lapped up every minute. But... the awesome show kept us out until midnight. Worth it. Worth every shot of espresso, every heart-palpitation from too much caffeine (I kid), worth the gasping breaths from the last interval. What a day it’s been.

Rapture Day

S and I began rapture Saturday with day two of week six of 5k 101’s 8 week training course. It’s the first day in a while that hasn’t been clouded by rain, so I finally got a chance to run in just shorts and a t-shirt. All the running goods I’ve been stocking up on are getting use. With just a few bites of banana and a glass of water with chia seeds, we strapped into our shoes and left the house.

We started with a five-minute warm-up walk down the hill towards Petsi’s, the sun warming our faces, then broke into the first of two twelve minute jogs. For the past two runs I’ve been logging miles on my iPhone with Nike+, but since my armband hasn't arrived and I’m getting wary of holding my phone in my bra, I clipped my tiny shuffle on instead. This means that I didn’t get the soothing voice of some robotic woman in my ear telling me that we had completed 1 and 2 miles, alerting me to my slightly sub-standard mph, but also that I didn’t have to worry about my phone slipping down the side of my bra.
Typically, running in the morning is more difficult for me, and today was no different. By the middle of the first interval my lungs were tired. They felt tiny, which is a strange sensation. I was grateful to stop for a small recovery, and then was ready to start the second interval. I would say the last eight minutes of that second interval were the easiest of the run, but I was still excited to stop running.

We slogged back up to the house and stretched, noting the mouse that had been left in front of our porch by a neighbor’s cat who loves us, then headed inside for breakfast.

I’ve been eating this protein-laden oatmeal concoction of my creating for a few days, and I keep exclaiming to S about how amazing it is. However, it also prompted a co-worker to comment that it looked like I was eating sewage during rounds yesterday morning. S, ever adventurous, was game to try, so I whipped up a double batch. Here’s how it works:

Ingredients for 2 servings:
 Scant ½ cup rolled quick oats
 ½ cup almond milk (unsweetened vanilla almond dream for us)
 ½ cup water
 1 banana, cut into small pieces (with a few larger ones)
 dash vanilla
 pinch of cinnamon
 4 tbsp hemp protein powder
 2 tsp chia seeds
 2 tsp maple syrup (divided, added at the end to each bowl)
 2 tbsp honey peanut butter (same as for syrup)

How to:
Mix water, almond milk and oats at medium heat, then leave to warm up. When it’s bubbling, add the banana, vanilla and cinnamon, and stir vigorously as the banana breaks down and the cereal gets creamy. It should smell amazing.
When the oats are still slightly too liquidy for your taste, take off the heat and add the chia and protein. Okay, it’s now slightly unappetizing. It’s green, in fact. Remember my oath that it’ll taste fantastic.
Now divide the goods into two bowls, top each with a teaspoon of maple syrup and a tablespoon of peanut butter, and devour. I use a kitchen scale to measure everything out because I like precision, and I like getting every gram of goodness that I deserve.