Slogging along

It's been almost a week, and my ankle has not improved. I daresay it's worse. Still not running, but forty minutes on the elliptical yesterday hurt quite a bit, so I suffered through forty minutes of biking today. I used a recumbent bike, and ended up feeling a strange ache down my left leg. It would ease up when I shifted to the right (also resulting in hitting my knee on the handles!), then resume when I sat straight. It felt like something pressing on the back-top of my left thigh.
Now, I can feel a swollen spot on my inner left ankle. It's been that way for a day or so, but I'm starting to worry. I don't think this picture captures the swelling.

(you can see my ace bandage and ice pack in the background!)

Luckily for me, S is on vacation this week (he's a music teacher), so today I get to drive to work.
I'm going to try to get a referral to a sports medicine doctor today. I want to see someone who will get me up and running again soon.

Onward and upward!

And down for the count

After my triumphant return to blogging, I've managed to incur some sort of injury in my left heel. Here's how it goes:

S and I went to Washington DC the weekend before Valentines Day, along with a few members of his band, so that they could play a show at American University. While there, I ran an "easy" 3.5 miler in Potomac, Maryland, and then a 9.3 miler along the C and O Canal. (Easy is in quotes, because Potomac is the most hilly neighborhood I've ever run in.) It was quite cold on the canal, but it was a delicious run. I hadn't run more than 5 since getting my wisdom teeth out, and I was so happy to be out with the wind on my face. Thinking back on it now, I felt little twinges in two places - one along the seam of my right sole, where it turned out I was getting a nasty blister (new, thin socks), and one along the inside of my left heel/ankle. I thought nothing of it. It felt like a little bruise.
We came back to Somerville, and I had a nice easy run on Tuesday. Just a quick 3 miler, with little twinges.

Thursday was the killer. I had a 6 mile speedwork run set out for me, which, for the sake of time, I shortened to a five miler. The plan was - 800 warm-up and cool-down with three 1600s at 9:16/mile, with 800 recovery jogs in between. By the time the first 800 was through, I had a twinge in my ankle, but I wanted to power through. That was a mistake that I regret now, though my speed was pretty good. It was the last 800 cool-down that was the most painful, though at other times in the quick miles I did actually make a noise. It felt a bit like I imagine being stabbed with a small pin would feel. Throughout the run I realized I was altering my gait to accomodate the pain - very small steps, and landing and lifting off on my mid-foot. Closer to the heel, even.

I ended up limping for the rest of the day.
I had an easy three miler on tap for Friday, but I ended up going to the gym and using the bike instead. It didn't hurt at all, and wasn't nearly as satisfying as running.

S and I spent the day in Amherst yesterday, and we each had a run planned for today. Mine was supposed to be 11 miles, and his an interval run. We were to meet up at Petsi's for breakfast. I wrapped my ankel all day yesterday, and it most definitely hurt when I woke up. After doing some research, I decided I may have given myself Posterior Tibial Tendonitis, and hoped I would be able to run even a short distance today.

No such luck. Pain when I woke up, and a crushed heart. I went to the gym and did an hour on the elliptical (with some pain), and twenty minutes on the bike. Unsatisfying, disheartening, and boring.

I haven't run since Wednesday, and I miss it horribly. Mainly, I'm scared that the Run for the Border half marathon at the end of March is out of the question.

Any help?

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.