My Runners

disclaimer: please excuse the hashtags, multiple nicknames and inside jokes.  if you don't get it, don't worry about it.

LH100 & TeamFirst50 REUNITED .. and it doesn't feel so good

At least for me it doesn't.  Or Troy, but he's in love and probably doesn't care.  And Kevin, well, has anyone seen Kevin since South Dakota? What exactly am I talking about?

It's Greg's turn, that's what I'm talking about.  Last August, great friendships and even greater accomplishments were gained in South Dakota at Lean Horse.  Kevin ran the 50k, Greg and Michelle ran their first 50 mile race (#TeamFirst50) and Troy completed his first 100 mile.  Byron and I crewed all damn day and night (#bestcrewever).  It was an experience that couldn't be put into words .. that's a lie, I had many, many words. 

And now, 6 months later, Greg is on his way to Rocky Raccoon in Hunstville, Texas, to run his first 100mi race.  I'm so proud I can barely stand it! But I'm also sad.  From the moment there was talk about this RR trip, I knew I would be there for him, hands down.  I'm no pacer, but if you read my race report from Lean Horse, (and you should, it's really, really good #ASH) you should have noticed I kept referring to "my runners" or "our runners".  Byron and I were responsible for their well-being and we quickly learned that's not something to take lightly.  Greg is MY RUNNER. AND I DON'T TAKE THAT LIGHTLY.  Unfortunately life gets in the way (a.k.a. work and parent's birthdays) and I won't be there.  *sniffle*

Selfish much?  Um, yes, totally (#ASH).  Let's be realistic here.  This story isn't about me (although it'd be a lot cooler if it was)!  It's about how awesome this weekend is going to be for the participating members of LH100.  It's about the new experiences, accomplishments and friendships that will be made this time around.  Erik Kennemer has the self-described "honor" of pacing Greg (G, Ninja, Spiderman) during miles 60-80.  And #TeamFirst50 will be together to the finish, just like it should be, as Michelle (Drum) paces him in the home stretch of 80-100.  I remember those last 20 miles very vividly.  Damn girl, you've got your work cut out for you.  Byron will be there too (1/2 of #bestcrewever).  I'm actually not sure if he's running this time around (he paced T-Money in the home stretch of LH100), but either way there's no doubt at some point you'll here "Fo'ward progress, keep movin', keep movin'." PeePaw, can you hear still hear it?

This is about Greg, Michelle, Erik, Byron, and all the others that will be there.  New nicknames will be earned; someone might get caught taking a dump in the woods; there will possibly be tears; there will most definitely be laughter.  And while I honestly believe that the LH100 experience is one of a kind, I have no doubt that this one will be legendary in it's own rite.

Take care of him for me, B!

Me and Ninja - South Dakota Aug 2011

The Anatomy of Letting Go: Chapter 2 - In the Thick of It

I remember how positive (read: naive) I was the first month or so after I decided it was time to take this seriously.  I was off my marathon training plan for all of two or three weeks when I went to Ohio for a family reunion.  I was saying things like, "I might not be able to do the marathon, but I can always downgrade to the half and at least be able to help Kelly during part of it".  And in my head I'm thinking if I can get the first 13 miles with her and then jump in around the last 3 or so, I won't be letting her down too much! My family was so proud of me for keeping such a great outlook!

My new doctor (and fellow TIR teammate) was great.  He helped me understand what was going on in my legs and affirmed some of my self-diagnoses (which, I might add, were pretty stinkin' close).  After a couple weeks of "rest", he gave me a rehab routine to do on my own and encouraged me to start letting go of all my expectations.  This was the point in my recovery where I began to tell people that I had taken myself out of the marathon mentally.  It was too much pressure to think about what I'd be capable of doing for the race, if anything at all, so I was going forward like I wouldn't be there. 

Doesn't sound like denial.  Sounds like I had my head on straight and was very accepting of where I was, doesn't it?

Some other stories I would tell people sounded something like this:
You hear about runners getting injured and they get all bitter and feel like they've lost part of themselves and they are struggling to feel like a person and blah blah blah ... Me?  No way.  I don't feel like that.  I'm lucky because I can still be active in other ways without pain.  I can get on the elliptical or ride my bike or whatever and it's cool.  I'm lucky because my injury isn't THAT bad.

And every week I would put my running shoes back on and go out for test run.  Ask me how far I made it before the ever-so-familiar pains came back.  Go ahead.  The answer? Not very far at all.  At some point it occurred to me that my legs hurt all the time.  It didn't matter if I was working, walking to get the mail, swimming, reading.  They hurt all the time.  How did I not see this?  How was I able to ignore this for so long?  Let's think about this for a minute to really put it in perspective. 

If I subscribe to my own theory that this all started in November-ish of 2010, and I stopped running in August of 2011, that's 9 - count 'em - 9 months of pounding in the weakness.  Let's also not forget how we runners like to use the word "only".  I only ran 6 miles.  That's just over an hour for me.  An hour.  Those "only" miles add up over 9 months and can cause lots of damage.

I don't remember exactly when it hit, but I do remember trying one last time to see how my legs felt when I ran.  I'd been doing the rehab routine, and resting as much as I knew how but it wasn't enough.  The understanding that I wasn't going to be able to participate in the marathon AT ALL was very hard to swallow.  I'm guessing this was about 3 months into my recovery.  I'd said the words many times, but it turns out I didn't actually buy into it.  My "active recovery" was about to sprial into a "sit on the couch and get lazy" recovery.  My legs were doing so much better it seemed to me that I should be able to do things like yoga without my calf muscles going into spasm for hours.  For every forward step I made, it was an emotional jump backwards.  Doesn't make sense? Hmm.  Let me try it another way.  Each time I would wake up and feel great, I'd think FINALLY I'm on my way back up!  Then I'd get on the treadmill or even the bike - wasn't always a run - and when I was finished my legs would ache for days.  It was a sobering way to wrap my head around just how bad my condition really was. 

So I took all races off my calendar (which thankfully was only 2).  I dropped all expectations.  I was holding on to ideas and future race plans and I had to let them all go.  And let me tell you, this is so much harder than it may seem!!

And you know, looking back, I think the part that scares me the most on how I dealt with all that is how much it affected all areas of my life.  I'm a massage therapist and most of my regular clients are runners.  I had just started to break into some local markets and BAM! .. I stopped.  The last thing I wanted to do was hang out at a social run even if it was to connect with possible clients.  My job *and income* suffered big time.  Honestly, it hasn't been until recently that I'm finally starting to feel a connection to my clients again.  And really, don't things usually get worse before they get better?

Bringing this all to current, I wish I could say that I'm 100%  healed and am back in my running shoes, but that just isn't the case.  Some days I run - a mile, if I'm lucky - and some days I don't.  One thing I've found that I enjoy the most is yoga.  I joined Sunstone a few months ago and am getting back into a routine of activity.  But let's be real, it's hard.  I've also embraced my new cycling legs.  I don't hurt on a daily basis anymore.  In fact, most activity I do is invigorating, motivating, and brings back the hope that one of these days that single mile will turn into 2, and it'll keep going up from there.  When I get discouraged now, I focus on how much progress I've made in the past 5 months.  I have learned SO MUCH; there's not an aspect of my life that hasn't been affected by all this. So for now, I concentrate on cross training.  Running is still the thing I hold closest to me, and I miss it.  But it's not my focus. 

Oh, and don't worry, my story doesn't stop here .. the words have just started to come out :)

The Anatomy of Letting Go: Chapter 1 - An Overview

We run on trails; roads; up hills; down hills; some of us fast; some of us slow.  We love half marathons; marathons; ultras.  We hate 5Ks but secretly love them.  We wake up to run in the wee hours of the morning before you clog our roads with your cars.  We don't drink, we hydrate; we don't eat food, we watch our nutrition.  We fuel our bodies.  We pee often because our water intake is superb.  We don't tolerate silly questions like "why do you run?" from the non-believers. We scoff at the dent you have put in your couch watching TV and walk with our sense of superiority because our lifestyle is BETTER THAN YOURS.  WE ARE RUNNERS. 

.. until we aren't.

This entry was supposed to be the race report from my first marathon.  Obviously it isn't.  I'm injured.  I hate that word.  An injury is something tangible like a broken arm.  Something that requires a cast or a bandaid.  But I don't have anything to point to.  No cool neon-colored hardened plaster is covering my injury.  Just an aura of self-doubt, self-pity, and stupidity.  I have rejoined the general population. 

I have been "blessed" with a glimpse into my old life and given a fresh perspective on this lifestyle (becoming a runner) that I have chosen.  I started running because I felt the need to change.  I was getting fat, sleeping and drinking too much and recognized that I was unhappy.  I had recently made a big career change and had grasped the concept of "if you don't like something, do something about it".  Eventually, my reasons for running evolved as most things do I guess.  They became way too emotional and I used it as a justification for things .. and those "things" took over and I forgot how beautiful it was when I ran my first 5K and my first half marathon.  Those two days were so much more satisfying than the day I ran my 11th half marathon 32min faster than my first one.

Today, after .25 miles on the treadmill I can still feel a pull in my calves that isn't supposed to be there.  It's like I don't know how to do it anymore.  Crazy frustrating.   I'm having one of those "I can't do anything right" moments and it's lasting longer than I'm comfortable with. So humor me, and let's go back to the beginning. 

It's very possible this whole thing started in July of 2010.  I was coming back from about 5mos off and was trying to pick right back up where I started from.  I ran a 20K and a 25K way too soon and without enough training and went straight into speed work.  All the while, I was in search of a shoe. I had a little "kink" in my right ankle that wouldn't go away so I went to see a podiatrist who told me there was no reason to stop running. In fact, he said "stop favoring it and let's try to find you a better shoe".  That never happened and I kept on running.  Then it was in my calf.  Then my knee.  Then my hip.  Then the arch of my foot.  Then my shin. 

I would put my running shoes on in the morning and think, "I wonder how long I can run today before it hurts".  I would come home and ice my shins after 3 miles.  Now, I see where your mind is going with this.  "Um, hullo .. go to a doctor."  And my only answer to that is I DID and I got nowhere. Not to mention I don't have health insurance nor the extra cash to toss at different doctors hoping this guy is the one that can help me. Besides.  I'm a massage therapist .. I know everything I need to know.  #sarcasm

So it's almost a year later and I'm about to hit the point of no return in my marathon training plan.  Yep, that's right.  I decided to train for a marathon when 3 miles required ice.  (Man, nothing puts shit in perspective like reading it in black and white). It's August 2011 and I meet Marci and Corina at White Rock Lake for 15 miles.  This training run turned out to be pretty pivotal.  We were discussing this "thing" in my leg (oh, did I mention by now it wasn't just my right leg anymore, it was both legs?) and Corina asked, "so, do you think if you stopped running for a while it would stop hurting?"  Can you imagine what my answer was?  "Nah, I don't think it's that serious, I just can't seem to find a shoe that's right for my foot".  AFTER A YEAR OF SEARCHING, I COULDN'T FIND A SHOE THAT DIDN'T MAKE MY FEET/LEGS/HIPS HURT.  And you know what, not one person ever said to me, "Honey, it ain't the shoe, it's you". 

Later on that afternoon I was thinking about my answer to Corina's question and I couldn't believe how ridiculous I sounded.  Of course it would get better if I rested. So here I am, January 2012, and I haven't been able to run 2 miles at a time since that day.  Some days I'm lucky if I can get one full mile.  I bailed on my marathon (and my friend Kelly); I've seen a couple different doctors - both helped in very different ways; and I've put my legs in the hands of a trusted friend and mentor.  All of these things have brought me here and if you're up for it, I'm gonna tell you all about it.