As the steady-state of late spring finally arrives in Western Pennsylvania, I'm pleased to say I will be doing quite a bit of living at home over the course of this summer! My early spring has been chock full of travel: in February and March, I spent more time away from Pittsburgh than I did at home. Despite this, I've come back from two months off of running due to injury and gotten myself back into pretty good racing shape. Some of my friends have expressed surprised at how I managed to train seriously when I'm away from my normal life schedule. I decided that I have figured out some small things that have helped me successfully continue training away from home, which might be of use to serious and casual athletes alike, who find themselves traveling a fair bit for work.
1. Do Something
I've found that convincing myself to get dressed and start running is often the hardest part of training while traveling, since I do feel rather out of whack and feel as though my schedule is at the mercy of the Airline Gods. There will be days that you feel like you were hit by a truck, caused by that airport Chinese food you ate, or the jetlag that's caught up with you, or the noisy neighbors in your hotel watching Whose Line at 3 am, or the disturbing abuse of caffeine you have developed over the course of attempting to complete 8 hours of work in during days you fly. However, if you can manage to get your shoes on and get out the door, it's likely that a few minutes of exercise will make you feel better.
2. Prioritize quality over quantity
If you have to cut something, cut junk miles. That is, if you have a workout and an easy run, and you realize you're only going to have time for one, run the tough workout. This is a good mantra for life in general: running fast makes you fast. Slow "junk" miles are good for marathoners long-term, but not as good as key workouts. You'll get the added bonus of feeling like you managed to get in a tough workout despite a crazy schedule, rather than feeling like you "missed" the important part of your training week.
3. Food
Here, I'll give a few quick pointers to not feel like death:
- Get some cereal, fruit, granola bars, etc to have on hand in the morning. It'll save you time if you don't have to eat out every morning (which you can use to get in a few AM miles!), will keep you from crashing before lunch, and will give you added fuel if you decide to run in the afternoon or evening. Plus, what you choose at the store will almost certainly be healthier than what you buy at Dunkin Donuts. Pro Tip: even convenience stores (7-11) and drug stores are now carrying some fruit and yogurt.
- Along the same lines, carry snacks of nuts or fruit or granola bars with you throughout the day. This will keep you from overeating at the crappy restaurants you are likely to find yourself at midday.
- When you do eat out, aim for foods whose volume is mostly plant-based. The more sauce, oil, simple sugars, and refined flour you eat, the more likely your stomach is to be unhappy later, and the more likely you are to skip your workout.
4. Bring 2 pairs of shoes
Counterintuitively, I find this more important for quick, 2-4 day trips than for week-long trips. My feet and legs feel pretty bad if I have been flying a lot, and having a few different kinds of (running and other) shoes allows me to give them some relief.
5. Double Up
Sometimes it's hard to find the time to go for a full hour in a day. Instead, break it up and run for 30 minutes in the morning, 30 minutes in the evening. It's easier to get out the door knowing your goal is shorter, it'll be less stressful to fit in the second run since it's short, and you'll find you recover more quickly from the effort when it's broken in two. If you find the time in the evening, add a few minutes on to the second run; you'll end up getting more mileage in than if you just ran once!
6. Stock up at home
I tend to try and leave home either Sunday afternoon, or midday Monday. This allows me to get in an early-morning long run on Sunday, or a solid hour of running Monday morning. It definitely helps alleviate the effects of travel on your training schedule if you can be really regimented and dedicated during the times you do find yourself at home.
7. Be Flexible
Things come up. Sometimes, your food, work, schedule, or friends are outside your control, and you end up missing your workout despite your best intentions. Don't beat yourself up, or give up on the whole week, just move on and try again the next day.
8. Know what works for you, and stick to it
If you know you hate running in the morning, don't plan to wake up early and run every day if there's any other way to schedule your day. Similarly, if you despise running after dark, get up before work and get your exercise in early; that way, when your meetings run late, you aren't freaking out about fitting in running before dinner or contemplating skipping meals to find time.
9. Ask the locals
Use the new location as motivation to explore! I like seeing new places and sights on my easy runs. Look around rather than down at your feet or at your watch; it can turn a chore into an adventure.
10. Do some strength-work
When you find yourself too tired to do anything other than watch TV in your hotel at night, do a few minutes of planks, wall sits, lunges, push-ups, or stretching. This has multiple benefits: first, it'll help you loosen up, and second, strength work will generally help you avoid injury, which you're more susceptible to when you're overworked and underslept.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Firsts
I've been thinking for awhile that I wanted to write a blog post about injury prevention, or strength training, or training seriously while traveling > 50% of the time. Somehow, though, I haven't been quite inspired to sit down and write for fun in quite awhile (this is unsurprising: there's been a lot of writing associated with my current PhD status: almost ABD). Today, though, I had a fun idea for a quick post. Between my recent trip home and my recent recent realization that I've managed to get back into some kind of shape again, I've been reminded of a bunch of running "firsts" which I imagine some of you might enjoy.
- Realization that distance running was my thing/running my first uninterrupted mile (2005?)
At some point late in high school, a suppressed memory of mine resurfaced. I remembered doing lap after lap after lap on the dusty path behind my elementary school, and getting a ribbon because I was the only first-grader willing to do four whole laps around the school. I assumed this was gym class of some sort, but after sifting through old boxes of junk, I later found some ribbons which say "Track Meet" on the back of them. I don't think we ever practiced; I only have memory of two races (in both of these, I was the only participant).
- My first actual track practice (2001)
- My first pair of real running shoes (Spring 2002)
I can't remember at all what they were called, but I know exactly how they looked. They were white and blue with lime green Swooshes on them. And they were wonderful.
- My first pair of actual running shorts (Summer 2002)
I ran middle school track in board shorts, that were blue and lime green and matched my first pair of running shoes. How this didn't cause chafing, I can't tell you; I'm going to assume it was because I only ran about 10 miles a week then.
- My first cross-country race (Fall 2002)
Libby, Montana. It was hot. And hilly. I ran 25:30something. I cannot believe I still remember that course, but I do.
- My first entirely varsity cross-country season (2003)
The tight red uniforms were awesome. So was winning state (for what was the 3rd consecutive time our team took home the title). So was the boys team singing "We are the champions" at the top of their lungs when we went up to get the trophy.
- My first 10k (2005)
It was the summer before senior year when I first made the foray into longer races than the 5k. I loved my first 10k (the Whitefish Lake Run); I even ran the second 5k faster than I'd ever run a 5k alone.
- My first marathon training season (2006)
I trained for Chicago the summer after I graduated from high school. Unfortunately, getting mono 2 weeks from race-day squashed my plans for glory and a 4:00 marathon
- My first marathon (2008)
I ran my first marathon under someone else's name. I remember running by a bank thermometer that read 85 at about 7 miles in. A bunch of my friends in college were planning on running together for a 4:00 pace or so. Together, we hit the halfway mark at around 2:00. When I stopped to tie my shoe, we got separated. I ran the second half in ~1:41, just above the qualifying time for Boston (though I told myself it didn't matter, since the bib wasn't mine anyway).
- My first BQ marathon (2009)
I ran Chicago, with my own bib this time, in a year that was as frigid as the previous years had been sweltering. The waterstops were slick with ice, and I wore a cheap UChicago sweatshirt throughout most of the race. After I finished, someone told me it was still below freezing. I had been hoping to run a 3:30 or so, but I felt so good in the cold that I managed to stumble deliriously into a 3:24. I hadn't had beer in over a month, so when a volunteer offered me Goose Island in the finisher's chute, I happily took the beer and finished it as I walked through the rest of the line. I took one step out of the chute before my body made me aware it was not ready for such shenanigans, and the beer resurfaced onto the pavement. A horrified volunteer asked if I needed a medic. I calmly assured her that the vomit was only from the ineptly timed boozing, not from running.
- My first sub-6:00 mile (2011)
I might mention that I did not run track or cross country in college, and only ran track 2 of 4 years in high school. I didn't do any real speed workouts after high school, so when I stepped onto the track to see what I could run without any work, and managed a 5:52, I was ecstatic. I did a workout today (2014) where the first mile was 6:00, after which I took 1:00 of rest, and proceeded to complete another 3 miles worth of speedwork at a much faster clip. I realized it hasn't been very long since I realized I could even do one mile at that pace.
- My first Hounds Practice (2010/2011)
It's not clear if I should count the first time I showed up (when I met three of my favorite male hounds and went for an "easy 9 mile run" at roughly 7:00 pace, in the dark, which one of them fondly refers to as "5 degrees out and she's wearing shorts and a t-shirt"; I'll stick to my claim that it was more like 20), or the first workout I did with the hounds (up at the Oval a few weeks before the 2011 Great Race, where I met several people who would become my best friends). Either way, these people have made my running life a total joy, have taught me so much about running, and showed me how much a great group of people can mean to growing as a runner. Thanks, guys! Love you all.
- Realization that distance running was my thing/running my first uninterrupted mile (2005?)
At some point late in high school, a suppressed memory of mine resurfaced. I remembered doing lap after lap after lap on the dusty path behind my elementary school, and getting a ribbon because I was the only first-grader willing to do four whole laps around the school. I assumed this was gym class of some sort, but after sifting through old boxes of junk, I later found some ribbons which say "Track Meet" on the back of them. I don't think we ever practiced; I only have memory of two races (in both of these, I was the only participant).
- My first actual track practice (2001)
- My first pair of real running shoes (Spring 2002)
I can't remember at all what they were called, but I know exactly how they looked. They were white and blue with lime green Swooshes on them. And they were wonderful.
- My first pair of actual running shorts (Summer 2002)
I ran middle school track in board shorts, that were blue and lime green and matched my first pair of running shoes. How this didn't cause chafing, I can't tell you; I'm going to assume it was because I only ran about 10 miles a week then.
- My first cross-country race (Fall 2002)
Libby, Montana. It was hot. And hilly. I ran 25:30something. I cannot believe I still remember that course, but I do.
- My first entirely varsity cross-country season (2003)
The tight red uniforms were awesome. So was winning state (for what was the 3rd consecutive time our team took home the title). So was the boys team singing "We are the champions" at the top of their lungs when we went up to get the trophy.
- My first 10k (2005)
It was the summer before senior year when I first made the foray into longer races than the 5k. I loved my first 10k (the Whitefish Lake Run); I even ran the second 5k faster than I'd ever run a 5k alone.
- My first marathon training season (2006)
I trained for Chicago the summer after I graduated from high school. Unfortunately, getting mono 2 weeks from race-day squashed my plans for glory and a 4:00 marathon
- My first marathon (2008)
I ran my first marathon under someone else's name. I remember running by a bank thermometer that read 85 at about 7 miles in. A bunch of my friends in college were planning on running together for a 4:00 pace or so. Together, we hit the halfway mark at around 2:00. When I stopped to tie my shoe, we got separated. I ran the second half in ~1:41, just above the qualifying time for Boston (though I told myself it didn't matter, since the bib wasn't mine anyway).
- My first BQ marathon (2009)
I ran Chicago, with my own bib this time, in a year that was as frigid as the previous years had been sweltering. The waterstops were slick with ice, and I wore a cheap UChicago sweatshirt throughout most of the race. After I finished, someone told me it was still below freezing. I had been hoping to run a 3:30 or so, but I felt so good in the cold that I managed to stumble deliriously into a 3:24. I hadn't had beer in over a month, so when a volunteer offered me Goose Island in the finisher's chute, I happily took the beer and finished it as I walked through the rest of the line. I took one step out of the chute before my body made me aware it was not ready for such shenanigans, and the beer resurfaced onto the pavement. A horrified volunteer asked if I needed a medic. I calmly assured her that the vomit was only from the ineptly timed boozing, not from running.
- My first sub-6:00 mile (2011)
I might mention that I did not run track or cross country in college, and only ran track 2 of 4 years in high school. I didn't do any real speed workouts after high school, so when I stepped onto the track to see what I could run without any work, and managed a 5:52, I was ecstatic. I did a workout today (2014) where the first mile was 6:00, after which I took 1:00 of rest, and proceeded to complete another 3 miles worth of speedwork at a much faster clip. I realized it hasn't been very long since I realized I could even do one mile at that pace.
- My first Hounds Practice (2010/2011)
It's not clear if I should count the first time I showed up (when I met three of my favorite male hounds and went for an "easy 9 mile run" at roughly 7:00 pace, in the dark, which one of them fondly refers to as "5 degrees out and she's wearing shorts and a t-shirt"; I'll stick to my claim that it was more like 20), or the first workout I did with the hounds (up at the Oval a few weeks before the 2011 Great Race, where I met several people who would become my best friends). Either way, these people have made my running life a total joy, have taught me so much about running, and showed me how much a great group of people can mean to growing as a runner. Thanks, guys! Love you all.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Patience is a pain in the butt
I'm finally sitting down to write this post, almost 2 months later than I first started thinking about it. The injury that I first acquired in mid-October kept me from running for 7 weeks, and only since the very end of November have I been jogging a few miles a week.
Recap of injury:
Right after a super-sweet 10k race (the Great Race, end of September), I started ramping up for my never-to-be fall marathon, California International in Sacramento. I'd taken a day off, was feeling good and in shape, and was excited to go after a low 2:50's marathon. My workouts the week following went well, despite being alone in a new city (Philadelphia). My hips and glutes were somewhat tight, but I was foam rolling and stretching to try and counteract this. I decided to do some strength (step-ups and downs, lunges, etc etc) since I realized it'd been a good while since I'd done strength (read: a few weeks since I'd done anything other than abs and a 6-9 months since I'd done any regular strength training). I went for an epic workout in the rain, which went really well. I stopped to take a drink, and when I took a step after stopping, my knee shrieked in pain.
I limp-walked home and called around to find a PT appointment for the next morning. I assumed the problem was my IT band, since it's often tight and I had issues with it a few years back, where it made my knee hurt. I took an entire week off all forms of exercise other than PT, which I went to 4 times in 7 days. After that, I began using the elliptical heavily (as many hours in a week as I usually ran, so on the order of 10), probably to the detriment of the healing process, but I was going nuts. I tried jogging a bit at the end of the week, and the pain was still very much there, on the inside of my knee. That was the point at which I did slightly more internet-searching: the pain from ITBS was on the outside of my knee last time, and this was more medial/on the top/under my patella. My suspicion was that I had patellafemoral pain syndrome, or PFPS. A trip to an orthopedic doctor in Philly confirmed this: he said my PFPS came from a strength imbalance (that my hamstrings were much stronger than my quads). He also said that it might take 6 weeks to clear up, or longer, and that the strength training should help but it'd take a long time to fix the imbalances. I asked about a marathon in December; he said it would probably be ok to run it but I wouldn't have much time to train. I told him I didn't want to run it without training, that that wasn't my goal. He seemed to not understand the idea that I might want to run a time that couldn't be accomplished taking 2 months off of running leading up to the race. Cue crying in public due to injury and the sense that no one other than a serious runner gets it, round 1.
Fortunately, the strength and stretching and whatnot that is prescribed for PFPS is much the same for ITBS: clams, monster walks, leg lifts in all 3 directions, and when the knee is less inflamed, leg press, step ups and downs, lunges, and single leg squats. This is all to strengthen the medial glutes, hips, and quadriceps (at least in my case). I was also told to stretch my glutes, hamstrings, quads, soleus and gastrocnemius, as well as foam roll my quad, IT band, and glutes. I started going to a new PT place in Pittsburgh when I returned, which had me doing all of the above. They gave me a good bit of Graston along my IT band/quad intersection point. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Graston technique, it basically involves taking various metallic tools (shaped like thick cutlery) and scraping the tools along various muscle and tendon groups, aiming to break up scar tissue and promote blood flow. In case you hadn't guessed, that hurts like a bitch, and made my leg look like this:
After 4 weeks of this stuff, I still wasn't running. My knee still hurt when I went to do step-downs or lunges or single-leg squats. The PTs weren't doing anything differently to me and I was feeling stuck and dejected: not only was I hurt and unable to run, they didn't seem to get how much that bothered me. They didn't know what would make it feel better, or when, or have any new ideas as to how else it could be treated. I also felt like every time I expressed frustration or dismay, they tried to convince me the situation wasn't that bad, and that I'd get my fitness back quickly once I could run, or that I should just take it one day at a time.
This was the lowest point for me: I was biking and swimming for over an hour a day, doing all my strength and stretching, being the perfect patient, and I wasn't getting any better. I felt completely defeated. I had been in *such good shape*, I kept reminding myself. I had been in shape to run the best marathon I'd ever run, by a long shot. I'd never been injured seriously enough to need to take more than a week or so off from running, and I had no idea how long it would take to come back, to regain my fitness. Moreover, running well had allowed me to keep at bay a whole slough of emotional issues: it is my therapy and my medication, and if my body is able to run as well as it normally does, that means I must be taking good care of it. Without the ability to get a lot of endorphins from running, and without the reinforcement that my body was awesome because of all the awesome stuff it could do, I felt horrible. I was tired, depressed, dejected, and hated my body. Mostly I hated my knee, but I felt pretty horrible towards the rest of my body, too.
I felt my knee all the time, sitting at work, walking around, biking to school, at the gym: even if I were able to put it out of my mind, the pain was always there to remind me that I was broken. My friends were having great workouts leading up to CIM and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to run at all by December. I knew my fitness was slipping, despite my insane amounts of time doing cardio at the gym. I tried to figure out the amount I should exercise by time, by calorie count, by any metric I could get my hands on. I certainly worked harder than I knew I could on a stationary bike, and probably harder than was good for my knee. I had my annual physical where I didn't want to talk much about my knee, but my GP asked me about running, and I broke down and cried in front of health professionals #2 and #3, respectively. She said, "I don't run, but if someone told me I couldn't bike I'd shoot someone in the head." At least she understood how I felt about being injured...
About 5 weeks in, I asked the PTs what they thought I should do differently, since I wasn't seeing any improvement and we'd been doing the same thing for weeks. They weren't sure what to say, and I told them I was worried it would never get better if we kept doing the same things. They told me I was focusing too much on my knee, and that was keeping it from getting better. That was nonsensical, and mean, so I made sure to cry in front of everyone there at UPMC Sports medicine to show my disapproval.
A couple of weeks later, after the PTs decided all of my exercises needed to be isometric (held longer and done more slowly), I decided to try jogging a bit. Much to my surprise, it felt fairly ok; I was out of shape, and my knee wasn't perfect, but it wasn't screaming in pain, either. I jogged a few times that week, mostly with the aid of a small amount of ibuprofen, since that seemed to keep my knee from getting inflamed and staying that way for a day or two.
Since then, I've been running a little. For an average person, I guess 20-35 miles a week is more than a little, but for me, it's just enough to take the edge off as my knee and everything else get stronger. I'm in pretty bad shape: an hour feels like a lot of running and 10 miles is the longest run I've managed so far.
What I've found most helpful, oddly, is stretching (and foam rolling, plus rolling my hips out on a lacrosse ball). I stretch before, during, and after running, every day. It seems to be helping keep my knee in check, though there is definitely still some discomfort.
At this point I am planning on ramping up to a 10k A-race for late spring, and a half marathon some time this summer. I don't think I'd be able to handle the mileage necessary for a full marathon prior to the weather getting horrible for the race (I want 20-24 weeks with high mileage before I run a marathon, and I definitely am not ready for 80 miles a week yet). I'm not sure what my timeline for a fall marathon will be; I might want to go back and run Chicago, or wait around until CIM to really build back my base. I guess we'll see how it all comes together, but for now, I'm glad I can do the little I can do running-wise.
Merry Christmas everyone! Hope to see you out there running in the coming weeks, and be careful on the snow and ice :)
Recap of injury:
Right after a super-sweet 10k race (the Great Race, end of September), I started ramping up for my never-to-be fall marathon, California International in Sacramento. I'd taken a day off, was feeling good and in shape, and was excited to go after a low 2:50's marathon. My workouts the week following went well, despite being alone in a new city (Philadelphia). My hips and glutes were somewhat tight, but I was foam rolling and stretching to try and counteract this. I decided to do some strength (step-ups and downs, lunges, etc etc) since I realized it'd been a good while since I'd done strength (read: a few weeks since I'd done anything other than abs and a 6-9 months since I'd done any regular strength training). I went for an epic workout in the rain, which went really well. I stopped to take a drink, and when I took a step after stopping, my knee shrieked in pain.
I limp-walked home and called around to find a PT appointment for the next morning. I assumed the problem was my IT band, since it's often tight and I had issues with it a few years back, where it made my knee hurt. I took an entire week off all forms of exercise other than PT, which I went to 4 times in 7 days. After that, I began using the elliptical heavily (as many hours in a week as I usually ran, so on the order of 10), probably to the detriment of the healing process, but I was going nuts. I tried jogging a bit at the end of the week, and the pain was still very much there, on the inside of my knee. That was the point at which I did slightly more internet-searching: the pain from ITBS was on the outside of my knee last time, and this was more medial/on the top/under my patella. My suspicion was that I had patellafemoral pain syndrome, or PFPS. A trip to an orthopedic doctor in Philly confirmed this: he said my PFPS came from a strength imbalance (that my hamstrings were much stronger than my quads). He also said that it might take 6 weeks to clear up, or longer, and that the strength training should help but it'd take a long time to fix the imbalances. I asked about a marathon in December; he said it would probably be ok to run it but I wouldn't have much time to train. I told him I didn't want to run it without training, that that wasn't my goal. He seemed to not understand the idea that I might want to run a time that couldn't be accomplished taking 2 months off of running leading up to the race. Cue crying in public due to injury and the sense that no one other than a serious runner gets it, round 1.
Fortunately, the strength and stretching and whatnot that is prescribed for PFPS is much the same for ITBS: clams, monster walks, leg lifts in all 3 directions, and when the knee is less inflamed, leg press, step ups and downs, lunges, and single leg squats. This is all to strengthen the medial glutes, hips, and quadriceps (at least in my case). I was also told to stretch my glutes, hamstrings, quads, soleus and gastrocnemius, as well as foam roll my quad, IT band, and glutes. I started going to a new PT place in Pittsburgh when I returned, which had me doing all of the above. They gave me a good bit of Graston along my IT band/quad intersection point. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Graston technique, it basically involves taking various metallic tools (shaped like thick cutlery) and scraping the tools along various muscle and tendon groups, aiming to break up scar tissue and promote blood flow. In case you hadn't guessed, that hurts like a bitch, and made my leg look like this:
I still think that I could do this to myself with a butter knife and a stick of Land o Lakes...
After 4 weeks of this stuff, I still wasn't running. My knee still hurt when I went to do step-downs or lunges or single-leg squats. The PTs weren't doing anything differently to me and I was feeling stuck and dejected: not only was I hurt and unable to run, they didn't seem to get how much that bothered me. They didn't know what would make it feel better, or when, or have any new ideas as to how else it could be treated. I also felt like every time I expressed frustration or dismay, they tried to convince me the situation wasn't that bad, and that I'd get my fitness back quickly once I could run, or that I should just take it one day at a time.
This was the lowest point for me: I was biking and swimming for over an hour a day, doing all my strength and stretching, being the perfect patient, and I wasn't getting any better. I felt completely defeated. I had been in *such good shape*, I kept reminding myself. I had been in shape to run the best marathon I'd ever run, by a long shot. I'd never been injured seriously enough to need to take more than a week or so off from running, and I had no idea how long it would take to come back, to regain my fitness. Moreover, running well had allowed me to keep at bay a whole slough of emotional issues: it is my therapy and my medication, and if my body is able to run as well as it normally does, that means I must be taking good care of it. Without the ability to get a lot of endorphins from running, and without the reinforcement that my body was awesome because of all the awesome stuff it could do, I felt horrible. I was tired, depressed, dejected, and hated my body. Mostly I hated my knee, but I felt pretty horrible towards the rest of my body, too.
I felt my knee all the time, sitting at work, walking around, biking to school, at the gym: even if I were able to put it out of my mind, the pain was always there to remind me that I was broken. My friends were having great workouts leading up to CIM and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to run at all by December. I knew my fitness was slipping, despite my insane amounts of time doing cardio at the gym. I tried to figure out the amount I should exercise by time, by calorie count, by any metric I could get my hands on. I certainly worked harder than I knew I could on a stationary bike, and probably harder than was good for my knee. I had my annual physical where I didn't want to talk much about my knee, but my GP asked me about running, and I broke down and cried in front of health professionals #2 and #3, respectively. She said, "I don't run, but if someone told me I couldn't bike I'd shoot someone in the head." At least she understood how I felt about being injured...
About 5 weeks in, I asked the PTs what they thought I should do differently, since I wasn't seeing any improvement and we'd been doing the same thing for weeks. They weren't sure what to say, and I told them I was worried it would never get better if we kept doing the same things. They told me I was focusing too much on my knee, and that was keeping it from getting better. That was nonsensical, and mean, so I made sure to cry in front of everyone there at UPMC Sports medicine to show my disapproval.
A couple of weeks later, after the PTs decided all of my exercises needed to be isometric (held longer and done more slowly), I decided to try jogging a bit. Much to my surprise, it felt fairly ok; I was out of shape, and my knee wasn't perfect, but it wasn't screaming in pain, either. I jogged a few times that week, mostly with the aid of a small amount of ibuprofen, since that seemed to keep my knee from getting inflamed and staying that way for a day or two.
Since then, I've been running a little. For an average person, I guess 20-35 miles a week is more than a little, but for me, it's just enough to take the edge off as my knee and everything else get stronger. I'm in pretty bad shape: an hour feels like a lot of running and 10 miles is the longest run I've managed so far.
What I've found most helpful, oddly, is stretching (and foam rolling, plus rolling my hips out on a lacrosse ball). I stretch before, during, and after running, every day. It seems to be helping keep my knee in check, though there is definitely still some discomfort.
At this point I am planning on ramping up to a 10k A-race for late spring, and a half marathon some time this summer. I don't think I'd be able to handle the mileage necessary for a full marathon prior to the weather getting horrible for the race (I want 20-24 weeks with high mileage before I run a marathon, and I definitely am not ready for 80 miles a week yet). I'm not sure what my timeline for a fall marathon will be; I might want to go back and run Chicago, or wait around until CIM to really build back my base. I guess we'll see how it all comes together, but for now, I'm glad I can do the little I can do running-wise.
Merry Christmas everyone! Hope to see you out there running in the coming weeks, and be careful on the snow and ice :)
Monday, October 21, 2013
One step forward, Two steps back
It's odd that the first time I feel like I have time to write a blogpost this fall is the time I feel most put-out about running I can ever remember. This all came on the tail of having a good, hard training season during the summer, an awesome 10k at the end of September, which left me with high hopes for the California International Marathon in December, where I've made plans to go with L-sauce, M-dizzle, and the Russian.
My month of training since coming back to Pittsburgh was awesome. Every workout, I hit the paces, the times, the reps-- I felt strong and consistent and confident. I was slightly less stressed about work, which made sleeping easier. I had more time to cook, since I wasn't commuting for an hour each way to the office. I had my awesome training buddies back, to push through the hard workouts and laugh with through the recovery miles. I felt like I was flying during our trackwork, which I normally always hate. My tempo runs were almost effortless. One weekend, I was a little foolhardy; Friday evening, I "jogged" a very hilly 19:40 CS 5k; on Saturday morning, I ran an 18:00 5k, complete with 7 miles of warm-up and cool-down; and then ran a 19-mile long run that afternoon when I realized I wouldn't have time the next day. A couple of weeks later, I jogged an 18:30 5k for $300 in cold hard cash.
At the end of September, the Hounds always run the Pittsburgh Great Race. This year was no exception; I was excited to race hard, given the consistency of my workouts. I had 2 workouts that week, so I wasn't sure exactly how I'd feel. I was pleasantly surprised with myself. I didn't go out too hard; if anything, I went out too slowly: the first mile was a 5:55, the second slowest mile of the race. I felt controlled as I strode down Forbes Avenue, a steep descent towards CMU, hitting the second mile at 5:30 pace, with M coming to say hello before leaving me in her shoelace's dust. Mile 3 was a bit flatter. I worked on a number of girls through the flat streets of Oakland, putting one woman who beat me the year before behind me, passed another girl who looked like she might be in high school, and striding up next to the woman who would be the first Master's finisher just as I hit the 5k in 18:00 even.
As I made my way towards the Boulevard of the Allies (the notoriously uphill, warm, and desolate part of the race), I buckled down and hit my pace for the 4th mile. I felt really warm as I made my way up the hill in mile 5, and I'd lost all sight of M, and no other women were anywhere ahead of me to chase. I definitely let up a bit in terms of effort, and while it was uphill, my split of 6:15 pissed me off. It angered me enough that my last 1.2 miles down towards Point Park (and the GIANT RUBBER DUCK:
) were 5:40 pace. I was so tired at that point, I remember leaning to turn and not being sure if leaning would make me turn 90 degrees quickly enough. My finishing time was 36:12, for 5th place, which I was very happy about. This was about a 20" PR; I'd been somewhat hoping for 36:00, but my real goal had been to make the podium (top 8) and I felt like I'd run a very strong race throughout.
After the Great race, I was pretty sore and tight, which is to be expected of the hard race effort, especially given the downhill course. It took me a few days before I felt up to a workout, but I did a nice 3x2 miles at marathon pace the Wednesday following. I did the workout on the track, at 5:30 AM, before I had to leave for the airport. It went really well, being a touch fast (1-2 seconds per mile) on each of the repetitions. As I flew to Philadelphia for the month for work later that day, I was excited for a month of focused research and training, with little else in the way of distraction. I was sad that I had to leave my training buddies so soon after returning to Pittsburgh, but I suspected I'd make up for most of that with ample time to train in a new city where I didn't have an established friend circle.
The first week in Philly went well. My workouts were awesome, I ran with a friend of a friend, and I felt like my summer focus on tempo runs and moderate speed were paying off. I did a 19 mile run with 9 miles sub-7 (averaging about 6:40, I think), which felt really, really good. My hips had been feeling a little tight, but I'd been foam rolling and keeping them in check.
The next week, I had a fun workout on Penn's track, where I was very confused about the distances on it (I knew it was weird, but I didn't know that lane 5 was actually the 400). I just ran for time and by effort since I really didn't know why my splits were all over the place at the "200" and "400". I did a little bit of strength on Thursday, because I remembered I'd been neglecting it as of late, and my hips had been tight. In particular, I did lunges, single leg lifts, clams, and my ab routine, all of which were fairly standard but I hadn't been doing the leg strength stuff with much consistency in the last few months. It was always hard to find a day where I wasn't either tired from just doing a workout or worried about making myself sore for my next workout.
Friday, I had one of my favorite workouts, 20x1:00 at 5k pace, with 1:00 "recovery" where the 1:00 is usually supposed to be somewhere between a jog (if you feel bad) and half marathon effort (if you feel like a badass). It went swimmingly, where most of my 1:00s of recovery were sub 6:15-pace. It was pouring rain with a hard, cold wind that seemed to be a headwind regardless of which direction I ran. I felt like a total badass. I also noticed that, in that weather, the normally hobby-jogger congested Schulkyll path had only the most bad-ass looking runners working out. We all shared in the camaraderie of our bad-assness of working hard in such adverse conditions. My last rep was on a slight downhill, making it easy to hit 5:30 pace for the first time during the workout. I felt like a total champ.
I stopped for a sip of water before beginnning my jog home. As I took a step back towards the path, my IT band twinged and I felt a sharp pain on the top of my kneecap. Shit, I thought. Shit, shit, shit. I assumed it was just a bit of tightness that would get a little better if I walked around. As I walked around, the pain did not subside. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! I told myself to calm down. I stretched a bit. I jogged a few strides further down the path. My knee kept hurting. Rather than running the rest of the way home, I walked gingerly. I stretched some more, did some step-ups and step-downs (part of my IT band strength set from 4 years ago, the last time I was injured enough to need to take more than a day or two off from running). My knee still hurt, just walking around. I iced it, did some foam rolling, and was pretty nervous. What have I done?
I went to bed that night, hurting and nervous. I woke up early on Saturday and called around to physical therapists in the neighborhood who were open on Saturday. I found an appointment. I went in, was assessed (though I told them I was sure it was ITBS, since I'd had the problem before). They had me do an assortment of exercises (mostly for glute and hip flexor strength, and some IT band stretching). I then had Graston, which, for those of you who are PT noobs, is colloquially known as "scraping". That wince you just had? Yeah, that's the right reaction to have to a procedure known in common parlance as "scraping". This technique involved one person holding my leg at stretch, to make the IT band as elongated and exposed as possible, and another person running down the IT band with pressure on a hard rubber tool, meant to "scrape" the tissue, getting blood flow to the area, aimed to stretch and break up scar tissue, and aid in healing any inflammation currently there. As the PT informed me, the IT band is the most painful place to have Graston, because there is no muscle or adipose tissue to protect it. As I yelped helplessly, I told him I usually have a quite high pain tolerance.
Skip to the next day, where L-sauce was visiting. I was really looking forward to running with her, since we had a long, hard workout to do (20 miles, with 6 of it broken in pieces of 6:30 pace, and the last 3 to max out effort at the end, gradually from 6:30 pace). I was super excited to do this workout in general, and with my main running squeeze L-sauce in particular. I was really, really sore from "scraping"; my leg was really grossly bruised, and my knee still hurt. I knew there would be no running.
Let's just say I went a whole week without running, went to PT 4 times in 5 days, and gingerly (on the PT's allowance) went for an easy 4 miles on Friday. They hurt. Not horrible, gut-wrenching pain, but a dull, persistent ache on my patella, telling me, "You probably shouldn't be doing this", over and over again. It didn't increase in pain during the run, but it didn't feel better as I continued, either. I had done my PT exercises just before the run, which I decided might have been part of the reason my knee hurt during the run; I had fatigued the muscles I needed active when I ran.
Saturday, in Boston, I did an easy 6 while I watched people rowing during the Head of the Charles. I noticed that running sub-7:00 pace hurt less than running 7:50 pace, which I though was weird. But my knee definitely still hurt, whether or not the PT had allowed me to run. Throughout the day, it hurt more and more, mostly when I was sitting with my knee bent, but also walking around and just standing still. I spent an hour foam rolling and a bunch of time doing my strength exercises, to no avail. And so, I decided not to do my 10-12 miler (which, if I felt good, was to be at marathon pace) on Sunday.
Frankly, at this point, I'm pissed. I worked hard all summer, I eat right, get enough sleep, don't add the miles on too quickly, and I'm still hurt. At the first sign of pain, I stopped and went to the PT. I didn't run through symptoms for awhile before seeking advice. I took an entire week without running, 5 of those days without even cross-training! I did all the right things! How am I not better?! I am going to see a sports medicine person tomorrow, who I hope will be able to tell me whether what I have is patellafemoral pain syndrome, or ITBS, or something else entirely. I want to know how long this is going to take to fix. I want to know if I'm supposed to run through pain or not. Mostly, though, I want to have a medical professional tell me precisely what I've already resigned to: that I won't be running a marathon in 7 weeks. Even if I were able to run 26 miles pain-free by then, I am sure I wouldn't be in shape to hit what I'd been hoping for (mid-to-low 2:50s). Ugh. I built this awesome base, I worked so hard, and now I'm totally wrecked.
Anyway, I'm writing this post trying to be somewhat optimistic. I understand that I'll probably be fine to run a spring marathon, maybe even fast. But I already bought a Boston bib, thinking I wouldn't A-race a full this spring, and now I may be stuck eating $175 or running a hot, slow marathon in the spring. That is on top of the money I've spent already for CIM. And, this sets me back another season. I was really hoping this race would go as planned, and that I would end up in the 2:52-2:55 range, putting sub-2:50 on the radar for my next big full. Now, I'll have to regroup and figure out when I'll be able to go for a 10 or even 5 mile run again without pain. I guess, in the long run, these things don't matter to anyone but me. So I have to remember that my life will be equally full of fun, and friends, and all of the other good things, whether or not I get to race in December; whether or not I get to break 2:55 or 2:50 in the next year. It's hard to keep these things in perspective. I'm working on it, but for the moment, you can find me using my frustration to destroy an elliptical in a city near you!
My month of training since coming back to Pittsburgh was awesome. Every workout, I hit the paces, the times, the reps-- I felt strong and consistent and confident. I was slightly less stressed about work, which made sleeping easier. I had more time to cook, since I wasn't commuting for an hour each way to the office. I had my awesome training buddies back, to push through the hard workouts and laugh with through the recovery miles. I felt like I was flying during our trackwork, which I normally always hate. My tempo runs were almost effortless. One weekend, I was a little foolhardy; Friday evening, I "jogged" a very hilly 19:40 CS 5k; on Saturday morning, I ran an 18:00 5k, complete with 7 miles of warm-up and cool-down; and then ran a 19-mile long run that afternoon when I realized I wouldn't have time the next day. A couple of weeks later, I jogged an 18:30 5k for $300 in cold hard cash.
At the end of September, the Hounds always run the Pittsburgh Great Race. This year was no exception; I was excited to race hard, given the consistency of my workouts. I had 2 workouts that week, so I wasn't sure exactly how I'd feel. I was pleasantly surprised with myself. I didn't go out too hard; if anything, I went out too slowly: the first mile was a 5:55, the second slowest mile of the race. I felt controlled as I strode down Forbes Avenue, a steep descent towards CMU, hitting the second mile at 5:30 pace, with M coming to say hello before leaving me in her shoelace's dust. Mile 3 was a bit flatter. I worked on a number of girls through the flat streets of Oakland, putting one woman who beat me the year before behind me, passed another girl who looked like she might be in high school, and striding up next to the woman who would be the first Master's finisher just as I hit the 5k in 18:00 even.
As I made my way towards the Boulevard of the Allies (the notoriously uphill, warm, and desolate part of the race), I buckled down and hit my pace for the 4th mile. I felt really warm as I made my way up the hill in mile 5, and I'd lost all sight of M, and no other women were anywhere ahead of me to chase. I definitely let up a bit in terms of effort, and while it was uphill, my split of 6:15 pissed me off. It angered me enough that my last 1.2 miles down towards Point Park (and the GIANT RUBBER DUCK:
) were 5:40 pace. I was so tired at that point, I remember leaning to turn and not being sure if leaning would make me turn 90 degrees quickly enough. My finishing time was 36:12, for 5th place, which I was very happy about. This was about a 20" PR; I'd been somewhat hoping for 36:00, but my real goal had been to make the podium (top 8) and I felt like I'd run a very strong race throughout.
After the Great race, I was pretty sore and tight, which is to be expected of the hard race effort, especially given the downhill course. It took me a few days before I felt up to a workout, but I did a nice 3x2 miles at marathon pace the Wednesday following. I did the workout on the track, at 5:30 AM, before I had to leave for the airport. It went really well, being a touch fast (1-2 seconds per mile) on each of the repetitions. As I flew to Philadelphia for the month for work later that day, I was excited for a month of focused research and training, with little else in the way of distraction. I was sad that I had to leave my training buddies so soon after returning to Pittsburgh, but I suspected I'd make up for most of that with ample time to train in a new city where I didn't have an established friend circle.
The first week in Philly went well. My workouts were awesome, I ran with a friend of a friend, and I felt like my summer focus on tempo runs and moderate speed were paying off. I did a 19 mile run with 9 miles sub-7 (averaging about 6:40, I think), which felt really, really good. My hips had been feeling a little tight, but I'd been foam rolling and keeping them in check.
The next week, I had a fun workout on Penn's track, where I was very confused about the distances on it (I knew it was weird, but I didn't know that lane 5 was actually the 400). I just ran for time and by effort since I really didn't know why my splits were all over the place at the "200" and "400". I did a little bit of strength on Thursday, because I remembered I'd been neglecting it as of late, and my hips had been tight. In particular, I did lunges, single leg lifts, clams, and my ab routine, all of which were fairly standard but I hadn't been doing the leg strength stuff with much consistency in the last few months. It was always hard to find a day where I wasn't either tired from just doing a workout or worried about making myself sore for my next workout.
Friday, I had one of my favorite workouts, 20x1:00 at 5k pace, with 1:00 "recovery" where the 1:00 is usually supposed to be somewhere between a jog (if you feel bad) and half marathon effort (if you feel like a badass). It went swimmingly, where most of my 1:00s of recovery were sub 6:15-pace. It was pouring rain with a hard, cold wind that seemed to be a headwind regardless of which direction I ran. I felt like a total badass. I also noticed that, in that weather, the normally hobby-jogger congested Schulkyll path had only the most bad-ass looking runners working out. We all shared in the camaraderie of our bad-assness of working hard in such adverse conditions. My last rep was on a slight downhill, making it easy to hit 5:30 pace for the first time during the workout. I felt like a total champ.
I stopped for a sip of water before beginnning my jog home. As I took a step back towards the path, my IT band twinged and I felt a sharp pain on the top of my kneecap. Shit, I thought. Shit, shit, shit. I assumed it was just a bit of tightness that would get a little better if I walked around. As I walked around, the pain did not subside. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! I told myself to calm down. I stretched a bit. I jogged a few strides further down the path. My knee kept hurting. Rather than running the rest of the way home, I walked gingerly. I stretched some more, did some step-ups and step-downs (part of my IT band strength set from 4 years ago, the last time I was injured enough to need to take more than a day or two off from running). My knee still hurt, just walking around. I iced it, did some foam rolling, and was pretty nervous. What have I done?
I went to bed that night, hurting and nervous. I woke up early on Saturday and called around to physical therapists in the neighborhood who were open on Saturday. I found an appointment. I went in, was assessed (though I told them I was sure it was ITBS, since I'd had the problem before). They had me do an assortment of exercises (mostly for glute and hip flexor strength, and some IT band stretching). I then had Graston, which, for those of you who are PT noobs, is colloquially known as "scraping". That wince you just had? Yeah, that's the right reaction to have to a procedure known in common parlance as "scraping". This technique involved one person holding my leg at stretch, to make the IT band as elongated and exposed as possible, and another person running down the IT band with pressure on a hard rubber tool, meant to "scrape" the tissue, getting blood flow to the area, aimed to stretch and break up scar tissue, and aid in healing any inflammation currently there. As the PT informed me, the IT band is the most painful place to have Graston, because there is no muscle or adipose tissue to protect it. As I yelped helplessly, I told him I usually have a quite high pain tolerance.
Skip to the next day, where L-sauce was visiting. I was really looking forward to running with her, since we had a long, hard workout to do (20 miles, with 6 of it broken in pieces of 6:30 pace, and the last 3 to max out effort at the end, gradually from 6:30 pace). I was super excited to do this workout in general, and with my main running squeeze L-sauce in particular. I was really, really sore from "scraping"; my leg was really grossly bruised, and my knee still hurt. I knew there would be no running.
Let's just say I went a whole week without running, went to PT 4 times in 5 days, and gingerly (on the PT's allowance) went for an easy 4 miles on Friday. They hurt. Not horrible, gut-wrenching pain, but a dull, persistent ache on my patella, telling me, "You probably shouldn't be doing this", over and over again. It didn't increase in pain during the run, but it didn't feel better as I continued, either. I had done my PT exercises just before the run, which I decided might have been part of the reason my knee hurt during the run; I had fatigued the muscles I needed active when I ran.
Saturday, in Boston, I did an easy 6 while I watched people rowing during the Head of the Charles. I noticed that running sub-7:00 pace hurt less than running 7:50 pace, which I though was weird. But my knee definitely still hurt, whether or not the PT had allowed me to run. Throughout the day, it hurt more and more, mostly when I was sitting with my knee bent, but also walking around and just standing still. I spent an hour foam rolling and a bunch of time doing my strength exercises, to no avail. And so, I decided not to do my 10-12 miler (which, if I felt good, was to be at marathon pace) on Sunday.
Frankly, at this point, I'm pissed. I worked hard all summer, I eat right, get enough sleep, don't add the miles on too quickly, and I'm still hurt. At the first sign of pain, I stopped and went to the PT. I didn't run through symptoms for awhile before seeking advice. I took an entire week without running, 5 of those days without even cross-training! I did all the right things! How am I not better?! I am going to see a sports medicine person tomorrow, who I hope will be able to tell me whether what I have is patellafemoral pain syndrome, or ITBS, or something else entirely. I want to know how long this is going to take to fix. I want to know if I'm supposed to run through pain or not. Mostly, though, I want to have a medical professional tell me precisely what I've already resigned to: that I won't be running a marathon in 7 weeks. Even if I were able to run 26 miles pain-free by then, I am sure I wouldn't be in shape to hit what I'd been hoping for (mid-to-low 2:50s). Ugh. I built this awesome base, I worked so hard, and now I'm totally wrecked.
Anyway, I'm writing this post trying to be somewhat optimistic. I understand that I'll probably be fine to run a spring marathon, maybe even fast. But I already bought a Boston bib, thinking I wouldn't A-race a full this spring, and now I may be stuck eating $175 or running a hot, slow marathon in the spring. That is on top of the money I've spent already for CIM. And, this sets me back another season. I was really hoping this race would go as planned, and that I would end up in the 2:52-2:55 range, putting sub-2:50 on the radar for my next big full. Now, I'll have to regroup and figure out when I'll be able to go for a 10 or even 5 mile run again without pain. I guess, in the long run, these things don't matter to anyone but me. So I have to remember that my life will be equally full of fun, and friends, and all of the other good things, whether or not I get to race in December; whether or not I get to break 2:55 or 2:50 in the next year. It's hard to keep these things in perspective. I'm working on it, but for the moment, you can find me using my frustration to destroy an elliptical in a city near you!
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Shall we walk?
The Big Hike
We embarked on our journey of 93ish miles over a week on Thursday, July 25th. The day before, we'd driven down to Rainier to get our prearranged permit modified (we needed the first day to be shorter; our request had come through with a 20 mile day right off the bat) and then gone back to Seattle to work and finish up getting our things together for the trip. We didn't make it back to Rainier until well after 11 pm (late, given we had 17 miles to hike the first day). Here's a synopsis of our trip:
Day 1: Longmire to Klapatche Park (17 miles)
We walked, a long, long way today. We had lunch in Indian Henry's hunting grounds, which was a beautiful meadow full of wildflowers. I was surprised how useful I found my hiking poles (new for the trip).
(Note to hikers who are planning: It seemed as though the South Pullayup camp didn't have much for drinking water; there was the main river which was glacial runoff (and far too silty for drinking), and a tiny creek that seemed very difficult to filter from. We were very thirsty for our last ascent, since we'd assumed the South Pullayup River camp would have water.)
We were worried that we may have stirred up a bear coming up our last mountain: hiking through the brush, we heard two grunts that I can only describe as "sounding like a bear". B agreed that it had sounded suspicious, so we broke our tired/thirsty silence and tried to make as much conversation as possible until we made it out of the brush. There was a surprisingly long way to go between the peak of the mountain and the campsite.
We were worried that we may have stirred up a bear coming up our last mountain: hiking through the brush, we heard two grunts that I can only describe as "sounding like a bear". B agreed that it had sounded suspicious, so we broke our tired/thirsty silence and tried to make as much conversation as possible until we made it out of the brush. There was a surprisingly long way to go between the peak of the mountain and the campsite.
Klapatche camp itself was at the top of a mountain and rightfully picturesque; one side of the camp, there was a small, clear body of water full of frogs, and on the other, there was a view of the valley below; both sites were nice for watching the sunset. The bugs the whole of this first day were atrocious, though: big black moose flies and mosquitos were ruthlessly biting us even as we hiked. This caused me to wear a long sleeve shirt for a majority of the trip (also probably why I didn't really get sunburned at all).
Day 2: Klapatche to Mowich River (15 miles)
I was kind of grumpy this day and am not sure why. We get to Golden lakes for lunch and I'm hot and uncomfortable (there are a million bugs again) and I don't want lunch. I ate a Snicker's bar instead; I think I was just way too bug-bitten to enjoy sitting and having lunch in the midst of a mosquito orgy/buffet occurring around me. We met a bunch of people today; we started talking to people and asking where they were headed. We hadn't met anyone going anywhere near as far as we were, either the first or the second day. I asked B when we were going to meet the badasses. He looked at me and said, "I think we are the badasses." As I grumpily swatted at the flies, I didn't feel like much of a badass.
We got to camp, which is right along the bank of the Mowich river, we welcomed a reprieve from the bugs. My appetite had returned, and I ate ~1000 calories of freeze-dried mac and cheese, along with another Snicker's bar. I guess I shouldn't skip lunch when hiking this much. We rinsed up in the river (after 2 days of wearing the same clothes, a bit of a rinse was nice). I notice a blister, and decide it needs to be popped. B suggests I use my new Leatherman. He tells me this is a good first use for such a tool.
The camp was nice and quiet; there was one other group camping there. This family didn't look much like it was one for regular outings of this nature (they were built a lot like your average American family), with the two teenaged kids and two parents. They looked exhausted, but when I chatted with them it sounded like they were having a good time. I was quite impressed that they'd decided hike the trail, given it's difficulty and their lack of experience. In my head, I gave them the badass badge of the day.
Day 3: Mowich River to Dick Creek (13ish miles)
We headed up and out of the river basin towards our first food cache. Mowich Lake, a drive-in campsite, was about 4 miles from Mowich river, so we made it there well before lunchtime. We took a long break there (~1.5 hours), sorting through food and drying our clothes and whatnot. We were tired and weren't excited to get going quickly. Mowich lake was gorgeous (a dark, vivid blue with turqouise shallows). The campground itself was crowded (it was, after all, a car campsite).
We made our way out, around Mowich lake and then up to Ipsut pass (more of a climb than we'd realized, and then down a steep, rocky, dusty, plant-overgrown decline towards the basin of a valley. My blister has started to seriously complain, and the knees and feet of my compatriot begin to complain about all the hiking down steep things we've done in the last few days. Morale was poor. We knew we had to climb a good ways out of the basin we were descending into before we made it to camp for the night.
We didn't really stop for lunch until about 4:30 (we'd had some snacks, but we wanted to make our way up towards the last sharp incline we had before we made it to our campsite). I was suddenly hangry enough that I demanded we stop and share some lasagne before making the last 1-2 mile push up to camp. I'd learned my lesson the day before: don't skip lunch.
The last climb we made manageable by stopping and taking a bunch of pictures of wildflowers (forthcoming) on the way up. Again, the climb was very steep and rocky. Along the way, we had a view of a glacier, covered in dirt and gravel almost disguised as a part of the mountain it resided on.
This campsite was my favorite, bar none. The site had only 2 tent spots, and we were the sole proprieters of the camp for the night. It was built into the side of a mountain, with a beautiful overlook onto the valley below facing west (this made for a really nice sunset-watching venue). 15 feet from the tent, there was a beautiful, clean, cool stream (Dick Creek), that looked so inviting that I sat down in it for 10 minutes or so before I even washed my face. As I was getting out of the stream (wearing my awesome berry-colored wool bra and underwear), a random hiker walked by, whose face turned roughly the color of my outfit when he saw me (he walked by without saying anything). We went to bed early this night, since we knew the next day was going to start out difficult.
Day 4: Indian Bar to Sunrise (14 miles) White River (17 miles)
The first few miles of this day were rough, which we anticipated and had woken up early to deal with them before the heat. We hiked straight up a steep section of trail, in the woods. Once we broke out of the woods, we were greeting by a beautiful alpine meadow, still slightly frosty. The flowers here were beautiful. We saw a bunch of marmot-looking creatures scampering about and whistling to each other about our arrival. I ate my first Smores Pop-tart at Mystic Lake campground (and it was delicious). We continued on and up towards Granite Creek; after toiling for several hours, we came across several men hiking in the opposite direction. I was hungry, and so I asked, perhaps a bit too desperately, if we were close to Granite Creek. The men said roughly 1.5 miles more, though they couldn't be sure because they'd been hiking downhill and we were hiking uphill, so it may have been further. After they passed, I told B I was sure we were within about 1/2 a mile of the campsite, based on how long we'd been hiking and the map. Sure enough, 5 minutes later, we reached the campsite. I'm assuming these guys were giving me a hard time, but this was the only time we encountered anyone who wasn't totally friendly on our trip. Again, I ate ~1000 calories of mac and cheese (today was a rock-star day for healthy eating). Our last 5 miles of the day, we walked up another 1000 feet or so and then walked along rocky ridges and glacial meadows, the whole way with beautiful views of flowers and Rainier. We chatted briefly with a man from South Africa. He had a weathered backpack, which had clearly seen a lot of use. He asked us if we were doing the whole trail, and if so, how long we were taking to do it. When we said 7 days, he responded, "Well, we're athletes then, aren't we!" This brought a smile to both of our faces as we trekked into Sunrise, the location of our second food cache and also our camp for the night.
When we got into camp, it was only 3 pm. We got burgers and beer and ice cream (Sunrise has a visitor center). The ice cream was awesome.
Once we'd sorted out our food (note to Jamie; you packed way, way, way too much food for this trip) and left some of it to pick up on our way home, we realized hiking down to White river would make our next day substantially easier (at this point, downhill was hurting both of us more than uphill). So, we stumbled the couple of miles down the hill. I wasn't very hungry, so we made the mistake of just eating snacks for dinner. Some guys wandered by and offered us beer for stories rendered and we obliged; they were starting the trail in a few days. B thought they might have trouble finishing the thing in 8 days (their schedule). I agreed, based on egregious stereotyping. This night, we also met Sandy and Owen (a couple in their 50/60s), who we spent much of the next day with.
Day 5: White River to Indian Bar (11.2 miles)
We got a later start this day, which I'd promised B as penance for lengthening the previous day. We were both pretty grumpy this morning; I'd imagine this had a lot to do with skipping dinner the night before; again, skipping meals is a really bad idea on this sort of trip. Once we got going, we really moved though; we made the 7 miles up to Summerland (another set of alpine meadows with views from the top of a mountain) in less than 2.5 hours. We ate lunch there (well, I ate a few bites of lunch; despite being hungry, I had no appetite for my meal), and then made our way across snow fields and meadows into the last decline of the day towards Indian Bar. This last decline was rough: my blister had blistered over again each of the previous nights, and was pretty unhappy with downhills. Both of our knees were ready to be done with downhill for a good while. When we reached camp, we were very pleasantly surprised: we had the group site, which had a terrific view of Rainier (and other mountains), the river, and the meadows therein. The other sites were a hike up a hill, set into the hill, with much less of a view. The loo (here and at Dick Creek) had no house surrounding it: instead, it had a really nice view of the mountains. We washed up, had supper, and chatted with Megan and Owen and Sandy (and the other couple there). They were all headed to Maple Creek the next day (just 10 miles, mostly downhill), and they offered that we could stay with them rather than hike the couple miles off the trail to Snow Lake.
Day 6: Indian Bar to Snow Lake (14 miles) Longmire (22ish miles)
We were hauling for the first part of this day. We'd realized downhills hurt less if we jogged down them slowly, and so we started off the day working into the valley with several minutes of jogging interspersed with our walking. We were a couple of miles from Maple Creek when we decided that we'd have lunch at Maple Creek and decide if we just wanted to finish the whole thing (we were going to be at Maple creek by about 12:30). Maple creek was, as far as I could tell, the worst campsite I'd ever seen. It was the buggiest, muggiest, area I've ever seen humans choose to vacation in. We didn't even want to sit still for eating lunch, but then, I didn't really want lunch anyway. As of day 4, I'd been having a lot of difficulty making myself eat more freeze-dried food, and today was the epitome of that sickness. No food we had with us sounded remotely appealing. We decided that there was no way we wanted to stay, given the flies and heat and the fact that we were both sick of camping food. At this point, we decided to finish the trail a day early.
The rest of the day was a bit of a blur; we made a lot of stops and drank a lot of gatorade. I hadn't really eaten lunch, it was hot and buggy, and we were both exhausted. We had our final climb of the trip, up away from Maple creek, the whole of which was heavily vegitated and as such, very very muggy and buggy. When we reached the top of the hill, the trail skirted the road for a bit, where we took a break. The people passing by in their SUVs and Priuses looked concerned for their safety (at this point, I imagine we smelled particularly potent). From the road, we hit Inspiration Point, the peak of the last climb. From here, we staggered down the hill and through the woods back to the car.
Key Learning Points:
- Hiking poles are surprisingly useful
- As was my lightweight windbreaker/rain pants, despite perfect weather: they are anti-mosquito!
- Extra clothing is surprisingly not
- I get sick of backpacking food on the trail. I guess I'll need more variety next time
- Bug Head-net seems like a good idea for parts of this trip
- Don't skip meals; you will (as in normal life) regret this decision.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Summertime
Whew! I looked at the date today, and realized it's been over a month since I last wrote a post. During my most intense training (this spring), I barely missed a week. I don't have training to blame for my absence from my blog. Rather, working like a maniac at my summer internship and commuting for roughly 2 hours a day have killed the free time I normally use for things like blogging, grocery shopping, baking my own bread, or just taking a weekend day where I don't need to accomplish anything (besides running, of course!)
Well, today, I basically intended to accomplish nothing other than going for a run. I set out to spend my day doing fun things, whatever I felt like, after my long run. This day came on the coattails of yesterday, when I spent all day after practice attempting to have great research ideas and failing. My *least favorite thing in the universe* is spending weekend time working and having nothing productive come of it.
So, at 6:30 yesterday, when I went out with friends for dinner, I decided to call a 36 hour moratorium on thinking about work. Dinner was tasty, we wandered around Fremont and ate pie and ice cream, and I went to bed early. I woke up, and decided I hadn't gone more than 16 miles in several weekends, so I wasn't going to stress out about the distance or pace of the run (that was supposed to be 16-17 miles), but I was going to go meet up with the CNW gang for a big part of the run. It was nice; my GPS died after the first hour of running, so I had no idea how fast/how far we were going. I just followed someone else's directions and talked shop (plantar fasciitis, various new running shoe models, upcoming races) with fellow runners. When everyone else was done, I had 3 hilly miles back home, and I told myself I could walk some if I felt like it (I was rather confident I'd done 16 when everyone else called it quits). But I felt good! So, despite my legs being a bit charred from the tempo run yesterday, I chugged up and down the hills back home. For the rest of today, I've done nothing much worth mentioning (did some clothes shopping, ate some froyo, took a nap when I started to think about work). A nice break.
The last few weeks have been stressful. Here are the things I've found stressful:
1. I'm down on my training. I haven't had bad workouts, per se, but my mileage has been intentionally lower (~70 miles a week for most weeks, a few lower weeks), and I've usually only had 2 quality sessions per week. I haven't felt like I've been really pushing the envelope with the running I've been doing, but I've been too tired to get in a bunch of double days (I often don't get home before 7:30 or 8:00). I've also just not felt particularly fit, despite a bunch of workouts going well.
2. Work has been stressful, both in terms of schedule and in terms of output. I like research, and in particular the projects I'm working on for the summer, I like the job and all of that. It's pretty intense to meet every day to work on a given research project, though, and my most preferred schedule of fairly early to early evening doesn't work as well for summer, both in terms of the commute and in terms of collaboration hours. Plus, I want to get a lot of work done while I'm here! So I definitely let work stress me out more than it usually does.
3. Commuting. Suffices to say that either taking 2 buses or biking 4 miles before taking another bus is a bit overwhelming. I didn't know how long this was taking me until about 2 weeks ago when I noticed that, best-case, the evening commute was taking 1:15 due to traffic. I've decided (against my hippy-dippy tendencies) that I'm going to drive to work for the last month, to try and recover a little bit of this time for myself. Even when don't drive, I find it difficult to enjoy/work during the commute, since there's a lot of traffic and I get carsick if I read/write on the bus. Plus people seem to love striking up conversations with me, even if I'm clearly busy reading a book they've never heard of.
4. Vacation! I know this sounds absurd, but B and I have planned a totally awesome vacation of hiking the Wonderland Trail (starting this Wednesday) for a week, and it's stressed me out. I love backpacking. I love being outside and "off the grid". I've enjoyed making the plans and buying the various new gear and freezedried food and everything else. But it's also stressed me out. It's taken time and energy to make those plans. The week off of work is oddly timed (rather than being one contiguous week, it's W-W). We don't have buffer of an extra weekend, as we would if it were M-F. Our timing is constrained by our permit as well as my work schedule. A week off of running is going to be very weird and I worry about how it'll affect my training. I'm scared one of us will get hurt, or have trouble finishing the trail, or that we won't have enough food, or that we'll forget something important, etc etc. My mind is an infinite generator of worries.
5. I miss my friends from Pittsburgh! I'm very used to having people to hang out with/go running with whenever I feel like it, just outside my door. I've been too tired to do much in the way of socializing here, and coordinating running on weekdays seems nearly impossible due to work schedules. Seattle is nice, and the weather is beautiful for running, and I feel guilty for being stressed about all these little things, especially when the big message (Work is going well, Running is going fine, I'm not injured and I get to spend the summer in the most beautiful part of the world, with an awesome boyfriend) is so positive.
Anyway, I'm writing these down because I want to remind myself it's ok to be tired and stressed, but not to let my stress induce more stress and anxiety. My training is going fine, but I've been too busy to write about it. Long story short is that I've been running ~70 miles a week, doing a tempo run each Saturday, a longish run each Sunday, and either a track workout or a tempo run each Wednesday. I've raced a couple of 5k's (both finishing in the top couple people, both in 18:06-18:07, the second of which was on a rather unfavorable course). I raced a mile and had a bad day.
After I get back from backpacking, my schedule will be a little different. I've noticed easy miles have been harder for me to get in than workouts, so I'm going to shift to doing an optional/choice workout Monday, CNW practice Wednesday, long run Thursday, and tempo on Saturday. If I feel like it, I can make Sunday a medium-long run. This way, I'll have one weekend day that isn't totally eaten by running, and fewer "easy miles" that I feel like I have to log on weekdays. I'm looking forward to it!
Well, today, I basically intended to accomplish nothing other than going for a run. I set out to spend my day doing fun things, whatever I felt like, after my long run. This day came on the coattails of yesterday, when I spent all day after practice attempting to have great research ideas and failing. My *least favorite thing in the universe* is spending weekend time working and having nothing productive come of it.
So, at 6:30 yesterday, when I went out with friends for dinner, I decided to call a 36 hour moratorium on thinking about work. Dinner was tasty, we wandered around Fremont and ate pie and ice cream, and I went to bed early. I woke up, and decided I hadn't gone more than 16 miles in several weekends, so I wasn't going to stress out about the distance or pace of the run (that was supposed to be 16-17 miles), but I was going to go meet up with the CNW gang for a big part of the run. It was nice; my GPS died after the first hour of running, so I had no idea how fast/how far we were going. I just followed someone else's directions and talked shop (plantar fasciitis, various new running shoe models, upcoming races) with fellow runners. When everyone else was done, I had 3 hilly miles back home, and I told myself I could walk some if I felt like it (I was rather confident I'd done 16 when everyone else called it quits). But I felt good! So, despite my legs being a bit charred from the tempo run yesterday, I chugged up and down the hills back home. For the rest of today, I've done nothing much worth mentioning (did some clothes shopping, ate some froyo, took a nap when I started to think about work). A nice break.
The last few weeks have been stressful. Here are the things I've found stressful:
1. I'm down on my training. I haven't had bad workouts, per se, but my mileage has been intentionally lower (~70 miles a week for most weeks, a few lower weeks), and I've usually only had 2 quality sessions per week. I haven't felt like I've been really pushing the envelope with the running I've been doing, but I've been too tired to get in a bunch of double days (I often don't get home before 7:30 or 8:00). I've also just not felt particularly fit, despite a bunch of workouts going well.
2. Work has been stressful, both in terms of schedule and in terms of output. I like research, and in particular the projects I'm working on for the summer, I like the job and all of that. It's pretty intense to meet every day to work on a given research project, though, and my most preferred schedule of fairly early to early evening doesn't work as well for summer, both in terms of the commute and in terms of collaboration hours. Plus, I want to get a lot of work done while I'm here! So I definitely let work stress me out more than it usually does.
3. Commuting. Suffices to say that either taking 2 buses or biking 4 miles before taking another bus is a bit overwhelming. I didn't know how long this was taking me until about 2 weeks ago when I noticed that, best-case, the evening commute was taking 1:15 due to traffic. I've decided (against my hippy-dippy tendencies) that I'm going to drive to work for the last month, to try and recover a little bit of this time for myself. Even when don't drive, I find it difficult to enjoy/work during the commute, since there's a lot of traffic and I get carsick if I read/write on the bus. Plus people seem to love striking up conversations with me, even if I'm clearly busy reading a book they've never heard of.
4. Vacation! I know this sounds absurd, but B and I have planned a totally awesome vacation of hiking the Wonderland Trail (starting this Wednesday) for a week, and it's stressed me out. I love backpacking. I love being outside and "off the grid". I've enjoyed making the plans and buying the various new gear and freezedried food and everything else. But it's also stressed me out. It's taken time and energy to make those plans. The week off of work is oddly timed (rather than being one contiguous week, it's W-W). We don't have buffer of an extra weekend, as we would if it were M-F. Our timing is constrained by our permit as well as my work schedule. A week off of running is going to be very weird and I worry about how it'll affect my training. I'm scared one of us will get hurt, or have trouble finishing the trail, or that we won't have enough food, or that we'll forget something important, etc etc. My mind is an infinite generator of worries.
5. I miss my friends from Pittsburgh! I'm very used to having people to hang out with/go running with whenever I feel like it, just outside my door. I've been too tired to do much in the way of socializing here, and coordinating running on weekdays seems nearly impossible due to work schedules. Seattle is nice, and the weather is beautiful for running, and I feel guilty for being stressed about all these little things, especially when the big message (Work is going well, Running is going fine, I'm not injured and I get to spend the summer in the most beautiful part of the world, with an awesome boyfriend) is so positive.
Anyway, I'm writing these down because I want to remind myself it's ok to be tired and stressed, but not to let my stress induce more stress and anxiety. My training is going fine, but I've been too busy to write about it. Long story short is that I've been running ~70 miles a week, doing a tempo run each Saturday, a longish run each Sunday, and either a track workout or a tempo run each Wednesday. I've raced a couple of 5k's (both finishing in the top couple people, both in 18:06-18:07, the second of which was on a rather unfavorable course). I raced a mile and had a bad day.
After I get back from backpacking, my schedule will be a little different. I've noticed easy miles have been harder for me to get in than workouts, so I'm going to shift to doing an optional/choice workout Monday, CNW practice Wednesday, long run Thursday, and tempo on Saturday. If I feel like it, I can make Sunday a medium-long run. This way, I'll have one weekend day that isn't totally eaten by running, and fewer "easy miles" that I feel like I have to log on weekdays. I'm looking forward to it!
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Base training FTW
It's been a little while since I last posted. I'll blame this on two things: one, I'm lazy and busy and haven't been bothered to post, and two, base training is boring (to write and read about). That being said, as this marks the end of base training, I figured I'd write a brief highlighting of the last few weeks of training.
0. I've now succesfully run 2 70ish mile weeks in a row. Go me! Last weekend and this weekend both had a medium-long (last weekend, a half marathon, this weekend, 14 miles at 7:10 pace) harder runs on Saturday followed by easy long runs Sunday (17 last week, 20 this week). It kind of feels like I may have forgotten how to run for 3 hours, but I guess I'll get back to it eventually :)
1. I got hit by a CMU golf cart, which impeded my mileage increasing beyond 60something miles 3 weeks ago.
This is only vaguely related to training. I felt like crap for a couple of days (I was really sore and kind of bruised), but I mostly wanted an excuse to briefly write about the incident (which, in hindsight, is humorous).
I had just finished a nice run with the Bald One through Schenley park. I was off to have dinner with a friend, and hopped on my bike outside the University Center. I rode along the path between the UC and the parking garage. I was riding slowly, since there are often other bicyclists and pedestrians in the area. The path intersects with another piece of path at a 90' angle, the inside of which is full of a large, overgrown bush. I entered into the intersection, aiming to turn left, when I was attacked from the side by a vicious motorized cart driven by a red-faced Yinzer.
He hit my left side and my bicycle, which caused me to topple over with some force. I was then somewhat pinned to the cement by my bicycle and the weight of my backpack. The Yinzer immediately jumps off his cart and hears me screaming "Jesus! Holy Shit!" (I am in shock, and didn't at this point intend any blasphemies). His kneejerk response is "It wasn't my fault!" Given the fact that I was freaking the fuck out, and swearing and crying and clearly out of it, but was able to focus on what he'd said well enough to give him a death glare, he decided to shut his trap. It was all I could do to not scream at him "Well, whose fault was it, then? If I'd run into you I wouldn't be blaming you! Also I'm hurt and freaking out; do you think we can wait on making me feel guilty about this until after I calm down a bit?"
The Bald One comes sprinting over as soon as he saw what happened. There were pretty quickly about 6 CMUPD officers standing around, asking me, TBO, and the crazed driver of the souped-up gocart questions. There were pretty quickly EMT or medic-ish people there, checking me out and saying they were going to take me to the hospital. Once I'd figured out that I was banged up but likely had not broken any bones, I requested that they not send me to the hospital. I also asked if I could stand up: everyone was towering over me and it felt super uncomfortable.
I heard the driver say "There should be a stop sign there!", which caused me to throw another nasty look his way. Is that corner poorly kept and a safety hazard? Yes. Do you get to justify the entire accident on that, rather than going too quickly and not being careful enough? No. He came over towards me and (for the first time, at least 20 minutes after this all happened), said, "I'm sorry. Here, let me give you a backrub" and started rubbing my shoulders for about 1 second. He either got the impression that I was very much not ok with that, or that the police all started looking at him, and stopped. Later, TBO told me that the police officer he was talking to said to him, "If he doesn't stop touching her this second I'm going to fucking tase him." (I would have enjoyed this).
Anyway, long story long, I'm fine. But that guy's kind of a dick and CMU has some real deficiencies in its campus (for safety and aesthetic reasons, that bush should either not be there or be much trimmed back).
2. We ran Decker's Creek again!
Not much to say here, other than that it was at least as fun as last year. We went out, camped, ran, drank, and were merry. A good time was had by all. I ran an ok 1:24:05, which given the 80' heat and humidity, I'll take.
3. Real training starts this week and I'm in Seattle!
Enough said!
0. I've now succesfully run 2 70ish mile weeks in a row. Go me! Last weekend and this weekend both had a medium-long (last weekend, a half marathon, this weekend, 14 miles at 7:10 pace) harder runs on Saturday followed by easy long runs Sunday (17 last week, 20 this week). It kind of feels like I may have forgotten how to run for 3 hours, but I guess I'll get back to it eventually :)
1. I got hit by a CMU golf cart, which impeded my mileage increasing beyond 60something miles 3 weeks ago.
This is only vaguely related to training. I felt like crap for a couple of days (I was really sore and kind of bruised), but I mostly wanted an excuse to briefly write about the incident (which, in hindsight, is humorous).
I had just finished a nice run with the Bald One through Schenley park. I was off to have dinner with a friend, and hopped on my bike outside the University Center. I rode along the path between the UC and the parking garage. I was riding slowly, since there are often other bicyclists and pedestrians in the area. The path intersects with another piece of path at a 90' angle, the inside of which is full of a large, overgrown bush. I entered into the intersection, aiming to turn left, when I was attacked from the side by a vicious motorized cart driven by a red-faced Yinzer.
He hit my left side and my bicycle, which caused me to topple over with some force. I was then somewhat pinned to the cement by my bicycle and the weight of my backpack. The Yinzer immediately jumps off his cart and hears me screaming "Jesus! Holy Shit!" (I am in shock, and didn't at this point intend any blasphemies). His kneejerk response is "It wasn't my fault!" Given the fact that I was freaking the fuck out, and swearing and crying and clearly out of it, but was able to focus on what he'd said well enough to give him a death glare, he decided to shut his trap. It was all I could do to not scream at him "Well, whose fault was it, then? If I'd run into you I wouldn't be blaming you! Also I'm hurt and freaking out; do you think we can wait on making me feel guilty about this until after I calm down a bit?"
The Bald One comes sprinting over as soon as he saw what happened. There were pretty quickly about 6 CMUPD officers standing around, asking me, TBO, and the crazed driver of the souped-up gocart questions. There were pretty quickly EMT or medic-ish people there, checking me out and saying they were going to take me to the hospital. Once I'd figured out that I was banged up but likely had not broken any bones, I requested that they not send me to the hospital. I also asked if I could stand up: everyone was towering over me and it felt super uncomfortable.
I heard the driver say "There should be a stop sign there!", which caused me to throw another nasty look his way. Is that corner poorly kept and a safety hazard? Yes. Do you get to justify the entire accident on that, rather than going too quickly and not being careful enough? No. He came over towards me and (for the first time, at least 20 minutes after this all happened), said, "I'm sorry. Here, let me give you a backrub" and started rubbing my shoulders for about 1 second. He either got the impression that I was very much not ok with that, or that the police all started looking at him, and stopped. Later, TBO told me that the police officer he was talking to said to him, "If he doesn't stop touching her this second I'm going to fucking tase him." (I would have enjoyed this).
Anyway, long story long, I'm fine. But that guy's kind of a dick and CMU has some real deficiencies in its campus (for safety and aesthetic reasons, that bush should either not be there or be much trimmed back).
2. We ran Decker's Creek again!
Not much to say here, other than that it was at least as fun as last year. We went out, camped, ran, drank, and were merry. A good time was had by all. I ran an ok 1:24:05, which given the 80' heat and humidity, I'll take.
3. Real training starts this week and I'm in Seattle!
Enough said!
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