Thursday Thirteen

1. Hair. It's as dark and straight as I remember it being about 15 years ago. I was expecting a lot of gray, but the gods who gave me hypothyroidism, asthma, and a host of allergies decided to give me a break on this one. Yay!

I liked being a blond, but my hair grows nearly an inch a month, and there's lots of it. Plus, the 18% humidity here, chemical processing, swimming, and crappy hotel shampoos at race venues are just a bit drying. Less $$ for maintenance = $$ for race entry fees, right?
My hair dresser says my dark hair is really going to make my green eyes, "pop".
I suggested to him that using the word, "pop" isn't so good for describing what eyes might do.

2. Reboot. I had an interview this week, but no call came from HR. :-( I'm hoping for another interview soon.

3. CHEAP!! Since I've been off work I've reverted quickly to the survival mode from when I was a single parent. Last week I dug a cactus needle out of my thumb that had been stuck in there for a week because it just seemed silly to pay someone else to do it when I had Orajel and a knife handy. Soon I'll be splinting injuries with sticks and closing wounds with super glue.

4. Training. I was invited to do a coffee ride this past Sunday (As you know, I love trying desperately to catch my super fast friends on one of their "rides"). I took one look at the forecast for snow and rain and typed back, COUNT ME IN! because I knew we'd never go.
I was right. It was 30 degrees and snowing, the ride was canceled, and I spent the day in with a fire and movies.
But now I have the benefit of having come across as being as a motivated joiner. Unless they read this.

5. Ankle. I'm hiking on trails again. The ankle moves forward and backwards, but not so much side-to-side. I have started gently manipulating it by hand. It still hates me, but now the hate is more like a pout than a scream.

6. UP. I went hiking with Sweet Baboo and Courtney anyway. I took it easy because of the ankle thing, and only climbed up to 9400 feet. Next week, we're headed to the south peak.

7. Future Races. I have been stricken by the "never say never" curse and plan to sign up for a hundred-miler when I reach 160 pounds. I haven't decided which one. I'm looking at Pinhoti (near my sister), the Javelina Jundred (cool buckle, and a 100k "wimp-out" option) or Rocky Racoon (flat, flat, flat but boring, boring, boring). Each of these races is superbly organized and supported.

8. WEEPY. Does getting older mean you cry at every damned thing? Even movies I've seen a million time do this to me. In fact, movies I've seen a million times are worse: I start to get choked up in anticipation of what's about to happen. I'm pathetic.

9. Foot. A new development: a pain between two of my toes on the bottom of my right foot. Mostly felt going downhill. I hear it's called a neuroma, and is hard to get rid of . Oh, YAY.

10. Training, P.2. I've started over with the 50-mile training plan. I'm a bit behind because of the ankle thing; I've only done 47 miles this month so far.

11. FIRE! Sweet Baboo has gotten really good at making fires! His fires are roaring and burn away any accumulated soot on the glass, so you can see them clearly. This means they burn out accumulations in the chimney, too.

This was Sunday's fire:

12. Cookies. Sunday Sweet Baboo asked if we could have some sort of cookie. Well, hell, the man had made a kick-ass fire, so sure, I started looking for healthy PB cookie recipes.
One recipe said "low fat" but included a cup of butter-flavored crisco "or butter."

Another one required olive oil. Olive oil? in cookies?

Another one required maple syrup, which people like to imagine is safer than sugar, because it's all natural and junk. Of course, snake venom and botulism are also natural, but trying to explain that to certain people is like trying to explain to them that quartz crystals are chemically identical to window glass. It creates a cognitive dissonance that they cannot overcome.
But I digress.
Anyway, I don't like maple syrup. I like Mrs. Butterworths. So there.

Well, after looking at various recipes, I decided to make up my own. How hard could it be?
And, Oh, My, Goodness. They sucked. Apparently, baking is, like, a skill.

Plus, my oven thermostat is broken, and of course, I won't get it fixed because I'm too cheap and I only use the stupid thing twice a year anyway. So, unless I go over to the oven and turn it off for about one minute out of every 5, everything BURNS..

The recipe yielded 5 decently cooked bland cookies and about 15 peanut butter charcoal briquettes.

I will continue to experiment. I'll post a recipe when I have one that works. Meanwhile, just go ahead and skip telling me about PB cookies at Trader Joes. Remember: I will not join your Trade Joe's cult.

13. Motivation. I have a friend that calls me every 4-5 months to tell me how much she really needs to get fit. I'm not naming names. I don't think she reads my blog, anyway.
So. She tells me how badly she needs to work out, and makes a date to go on a trail hike or short run with me, doesn't show up, and then I don't hear from her again until the next quarter. This has been going on for a few years.
She was supposed to come over the same day I agreed to cycle with my very super fast cycling friends. Of course, I was not troubled by the double-booking, as I was relatively certain the weather would cancel the cycling and my friend would not show up.

I was right. I relaxed all day, until i did a late afternoon hike with Baboo. Win-win. Meanwhile, the door's always open for her.

...

Yes, it's slow, but it's still running.

Thanks a couple of posts by SW TriGal (you go, Debi) I’m on a self-imposed trial of supplements by a company called Emerita for the whole, “change of life” thing. But like I said to Sweet Baboo this morning, it sure is taking a lot more crèams, potions, and lotions to be me these days.


I haven't lost any more weight, but my clothes are fitting better, so that's something.

The best help I’ve gotten for the IT band thing has been this fact sheet and exercises for my “gluteous medius” (Abductors) from this web site. The fact sheet has an stretch that brought instant relief. I do use ice, and feel worse after using it, but then I stretch, and I feel better. I have also brought the dreaded FOAM ROLLER to work. Because, you know, there aren’t enough hours in the day to do something that, as my friend Mike G puts it, makes you just about bleed our your eyes.

The best news is, I ran yesterday! True, it was a 3.2 mile run/walk for 3.2 miles, but the most I've done in 4 months. It was hard to do. In all honesty, I had forgotten how to run, and my body is not used to the jarring that goes with running. It was, like, okay! Here I go! Wow! Ow. That shouldn’t hurt like that. Have I always run like that, landing on my heels that way? No? Okay. Let’s start this again, slowwwwllllly.

So, I guessing I'm starting over, using that shuffling jog from 2005, but I have hope now. Even if WeightWatchers and SparkPeople don’t consider my pace running, I ran. Yes, it hurt, but not so much, and it didn’t get worse as I moved. So for now, short (3-5 mile) walk/runs, and a weekend long walk/hike in the hills. I’ll start PT next week, too.


Oh, about the WeightWatcher's card above? I just bought that book. You should, too. (click on the picture).

...

Ghost Town 38.5: A DNF Report.

These aren't pictures from the race. There aren't any, I don't think. I just was looking at these pictures today as a reminder of what I've done.

Yesterday began inauspiciously when I stood up in the Porta John and heard a soft thud as my only asthma inhaler landed in the chemical toilet.
I turned around and looked, well, down - I could see it clearly, and it was within reach.

What would you do?

And what do you think I did?

Soooo....the other thing that was weighing on me, so to speak was the day before when I stepped, fully hydrated, onto an impedance scale for the beginning of the 10-week "The Challenge" program.

Weight:178 (clothed)..........BFI: 41%

Yep, 41. As in, "STOP EATING ALL THOSE POTATO CHIPS."
I calculated that (.41 * 175 = a LOT of extra weight to haul up and down those hills) and that's a lot of fat that I don't need given that I'm neither living on the south pole NOR facing famine. So, I have a job ahead of me.

So, the start of the Ghost Town 38.5. The start, which was 25 or so degrees, depending on who you talked to, and 6 am, so it was dark. The first 12 miles were okay. I knew by mile 3 that I wasn't going to be running, but that okay: Even walking I kept a sub-15 minute pace. I was feeling pretty good, thinking, "I can totally do this." My IT Band didn't seem to mind the terrain too much...but I at a disadvantage. Not only have I not really been able to run in nearly 3 months, but was base I have is one that is for hauling 155 pounds or me around, not 175 pounds.

And Then. I hit The Spur, the first really steep uphill and downhills on the course. The way up was short and very steep, but covered with sharp, loose rocks (Baboo says it's like trying to walk on marbles), and when I came down - that's when it happened: my IT Band said, "Nope, no way, not here, I"m not havin' it." When I came out of the Spur I muttered to Baboo, who was corner-marshaling, "I'm in a lot of pain right now."

Prior to that the former last person passed me, a super nice lady who stopped and walked with me for a while, offering me some homeopathic remedy for pain. I'm not a huge homeopathy fan, but what the hell, I'll try anything at this point.
So I said, sure, and as they were dissolving under my tounge she said suddenly, "oh wait--you aren't a vegetarian, are you?"

"WHY?"

"Uh, they have bulls' testacles in them."

Chew on THAT.

Anyway, Homeopathy notwithstanding, the pain would get so intense that it would bring tears to my eyes. But only on the steep downhills, you know? So when I came out of the spur around 15 miles, and by mile 16, I was still hoping that I could do this. All I had to do was get through the next 8 miles, and I'd be back on road that I could continue to walk.

I had a thought, which I'll share at the end of this, but the end result was that even though I was crying from the pain and pissed off, by mile 18, I'd set a new goal.

See, by then, I knew I couldn't finish. I knew that as bad as the terrain was, the return was going to be worse (I found out later that this section of the road is, essentially, a stream bed) that had climbed steeply uphill would have to be returned going downhill and I FURTHER knew that as much pain as I was in now, I just wouldn't be able to take it.

I can push past pain, and I can push past tired, but bundle them together, and they wear me down. By mile 18 my pace had climbed to 19 minutes per mile, and I wanted to get to the turn around before the cutoff time. I didn't want to be pulled. I wanted it to be my decison to sit down.

So I did. Followed by Sheriff's posse on horseback, I finally hobbled, dead last, into station 4 at the turn around, and asked if I'd made it. It's a small race, and mine was the only drop bag left so they called out my name when I rounded the corner into the station. "You made it!" they said. I'd cleared the cutoff time by 5 minutes.

I said, "Good! I quit."

They were expecting that, because apparently the posse had radiod ahead with things like, "she's doing okay on the uphills and the flats but when she gets to those downhills she starts limping really bad." I wanted to get to mile 20 because it was a nice round number, and because I wanted to pick up my drop back, and because I wanted to leave, not be pulled. So, I did. I left.

I was driven back in what can only be described as the most terrifying pickup ride I've ever had in my life, and then I stopped and picked up my other drop bag, and met Sweet Baboo at mile 12, who felt bad and thus was very, very nice to me. I should have taken full advantage of that as in, you know what would make me feel really good right now? lots of new clothes but by the time I saw him I'd had the time to reflect on everything, and I was disappointed and discouraged, but feeling a bit better.

At first I was telling him, and DP, "Maybe I'm not supposed to be a runner. Maybe it's just not my thing," and they were all, "Oh, pish, posh" and had many other encouraging words and advice for me. Baboo, especially, had a lot to say to me given that he had similar experiences in the past.

So, I've had a night to sleep on it and here's what I've come up with:

1. I went 20 miles. 20 rocky, mostly uphill miles, climbing from altitude of 5000 up to about 7000 feet. Not only that, but in the last 12 months I've completed 5 marathons, 2 trail ultras, and an Ironman. So, it's not like I'm a slacker or anything.

2. I'm starting The Challenge New Mexico, which is a 10-week program designed to lower your body-fat ratio and build lean muscle. You will see a marked difference in my attempt at the 50-mile Rocky Racoon next month. Yes, you read right. I'm still going.

3. Nothing hurts, other than my IT Band. My feet don't hurt, my calves don't hurt, and my thighs don't hurt, despite hauling me up and down a very challenging course over 20 miles.

4. The race director told me I would be considered an "alumnus" anyway, and would get early registration for coming back next year, if I wanted. (I do. I've never DNF'd on a race that I could finish.)

5. Let's face it. When you attempt to do extraordinary things, sometimes you will fail. Sometimes, though, you succeed; it's for those moments of success that you keep going. When you fail, well, you learn from that, and you go on to attempt other, extraordinary things.

...

In Which I Suck, Suck, Suck. And Am Discouraged.

I went for an 8 mile trail run today, and it sucked, sucked, sucked. It's like I have to start over again. My legs felt old, heavy, and tired. I felt old, heavy, and tired. I was breathless and slow and everything that I didn't expect to be.

I would have thought I'd be bouncing back faster than this. And I'm not. In fact, it seems to get worse every time I run. I was beginning to wonder if I am going to be back in shape for the Ghost Town 38.5 in about 5 weeks.

It doesn't help that I'm up 14 pounds from my August weight, and that I was carring a 10-pound pack.

This was the longest trail run I've done since Palo Duro in October, nearly two months ago, and I was about 20 pounds heavier on the trails today than I was then.

Plus, all my climbing muscles and tendons and such as soft, and need to be reconditioned. OW.


>Heavy Sigh.<

The good part of today's run was that it was in the hills near our new house. The more we run out there the more I'm starting to learn loops and routes for easy workuts, challenging workouts, and workouts with a view. Now, I found out that there is this racewalking club here in Albuquerque. A woman I work with, her spouse is a competitive racewalker. I looked up some stuff and did you know the champion racewalkers can WALK a 5K in under 21 minutes? and a 10K in under 42 minutes?

WOW.

I'd never give up running. But in those moments when I can't run, or if I need a break from the pounding, I'd like to be able to walk quickly. I think it would be great crosstraining. I'm not saying it woud be easy. Just different.

So, I emailed a guy in the racewalking club here and asked him for information. Like, is there someone who can teach me? Coach me?

Maybe it will be a new adventure. racewalking the hills of the 'Burque. Cool. I'll be sure and share everything I find out.

...

11th day of no running.

Okay. So yesterday I tried AQUA-JOGGING. When I put on the Aqua-Jogger Pro I had flashbacks of my childhood in Jacksonville, Florida. My mom would strap me into an orange safety vest and my father and my sister would swim way out past the breakers and never, ever, let me come with them. I was devastated.

Now of course, my father was an adult and my sister was on the high school swim team, and I was eight and could swim just well enough not to drown....
Nevertheless. DEVASTATED.

So anyway.

The Aqua-Jogger Pro is a styrofoam thing with an elastic strap. It is about $60. Styrofoam. Elastic. $60.

That's 12 medium pumpkin spice lattes (with soy and an extra shot).

So, I strapped it around my waist, and jumped into the water with DreadPirate, my aqua-jogging tutor. It holds you up so that your feet don't touch the bottom of the pool. I have to use the pro instead of the classic because of my bootyliciousness. The Aqua-Jogger Pro is, "50% more buoyant than the Aquajogger Classic. Preferred by male athletes and "sinkers"."

The trick, in aqua-jogging, is to stay upright and resist the temptation to use your hands to move through the water faster. You sorta bicycle your legs as fast as you can. As my fastest, I was able to move 25 yards down the pool in about 1:45. It is painfully, painfully slow. Aqua-jogging is kind of like that nightmare where you're trying to get away from the monster but can't seem to run fast. I used to have nightmares like that when I was little (now they're mostly me not being able to yell, no matter how hard I try).

Once I got into my rhythm, I really liked it. I wish I had music to listen to, but there is NO WAY I'm wearing my iPod in the pool. Even if I could get it out of my locked car, which I can't. Because I've lost my keys again. But anyway. I found my stride, and I liked it. After that we did some lifting, and then, this morning, I did about an hour on the elliptical trainer, which felt great, and according to the machine, did about 4 miles on it. I was sweaty and tired and felt GRRRRREAT!

Then DP and her people and I went to brunch and I had huevos rancheros which, when made properly, are awesome. Most restaurants in New Mexico put their own spin on it; in this one I had green AND red chili, eggs over easy, black beans and potatoes, on corn tortillas, not flour.

Plus, today is also the first day I haven't had any pain in my leg at all. AT. ALL.
All in all, a great weekend.

So that's my workout routine for the next two weeks: Spin class and a short (1000 meter) swim Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Elliptical trainer followed by aqua-jogging on Tuesday and Thursday.
Tomorrow, I'll find out whether this is a stress fracture (shudder) or shin splints. I've been rubbing it over before and after my workouts with Arnica Montana and taking Arnica Montana pellets as directed. I don't actually believe in homeopathy, but what the hell. I've heard people I respect swear by it.

The worst that can happen is that I'm out about $14, right?

I will do almost anything not to miss the Palo Duro 50K on October 18th.

...

The leg bone IS connected to the ankle bone.

So, I've got this thing in my left ankle that I felt the first stirrings of when I was running downhill from the La Luz trailhead. Then I didn't feel it again until starting around mile 16 last Sunday at the marathon. It's like an electric shock, and I know it's a nerve thing.

I don't feel pain much, but when I do, I get all dramatic. I'm all, what's wrong? What's happening? Waaahhh! This isn't fair! Why should I suffer? Why me? I get all whiney. It's not pretty. Then I look up stuff on the Internet and get seriously hypochondriacal and anxious.

When I do have pain I don't push through it. That is not My Way. I don't stiffen up and hobble. Instead, the offending limb protectively goes completely limp and I go DOWN. So, in the marathon I would stop running at the aid station, the nerve would tweak, and I would almost fall over, and EMTs would rush at me shouting YOUOKAYOUOKAYYOUOKAYYOUOKAY?

Yes, I'd tell them. Thanks for being here, now relax and put that stretcher away.
It stopped hurting when I ran. But I couldn't run forever.

Right after the marathon I came across the finish line, stopped, grabbed my left leg and just about dropped to the pavement. I think Pirate has the picture. After the marathon, it was gone.

Then, yesterday, I did some sprints. I started out at the gym ran easy about 2 miles at a 11:15 or so pace out to the bosque. It was dawn, and it felt AWESOME.

I stopped, stretched a tiny bit, and then started the first of my 1-minute sprints. In these, I sprint 1 minute, and walk one minute. Rinse, repeat.

Then a really cool thing happened then: During the 2nd or 3rd sprint interval, suddenly I felt smooth and swift. I sped up. I glanced down at the pace meter on my Garmin, and it said 6:53. Holy smokes, for nearly a whole minute, I ran a a sub-7 minute pace.
Then, the nerve tweaked, and I was all like, Yay! Ow! Yay! Ow!

I did a couple more sprints after that and then jogged the last mile back to the gym. Ow, ow, ow.

Last night, while sitting, it tweaked again, and all day today it's been constantly there. I looked up stuff and knew that it wasn't shin splints, a pulled muscle, or stress fracture. There was no swelling or bruising, so what the hell was it?

I went to see Tiger Lily for a message and she pressed 2 places that made it tweak: the back of my hamstrings, and the muscle that runs down the outside of my calves. She also noted that my left leg, for some reason, was way tighter than my right. The tight muscles are probably pressing on this illiol tibulol fibulol some kind of nerve...So, that's what the pain is. Right now, it feels better.

The solution? Lots of stretching, no running for 1 week, and THE FOAM ROLLER.

Pirate, of course, is gleeful because if there's anything she loves more than an assisted lat pull-down machine, it's the foam roller. She's into pain and suffering, that one.

The rest of the rx:
Lots of stretching, every single day, after soaking in a warm tub to warm muscles. Stretch my ITB, hamstrings, and anything else I can access.
Lots of cycling and then stretching immediately after THAT.
No running for 1 week.
Wednesday, another message.

Then, I should be in good form for the Colorado Relay, which starts next Friday morning at 6:15 am. Fingers crossed. We've been planning this for 11 months, and I don't want to let anyone down.

...

Oh, and about that run...

So, I headed out for what I hoped would be at least a 15-mile run today. I finally felt like someone had untethered that giant brick tied to my a$$ after the 50K in Alabama.

I felt fleet-footed. I wasn't coughing. I wasn't even breathing heavy. I was managing about a 12 minute pace, which felt very easy, and my heart rate was around 130 or so.

About a quarter mile into it, though, IT came back. At first, it wasn't as bad as it's been, just more of a hint of pain, sort of a warning, really. Kind of "Hi, I'm your knee. Remember me?"

I managed about 12 miles on a smooth, flat black-top path by stopping and stretching every couple of miles and and by taking a 5 minute walk break for every 10 minutes of running, but then around mile 11, I stopped to answer my phone, and stood there for a moment talking to Mini-Baboo, and then something happened. I don't know what, maybe it started to stiffen up. All I know is that the next step was excruciating.

It took me by surprise, so much so that I kind of gasped and then went down. I stood back up and hopped around a bit, shaking out my leg, because this pain is so weird, it always feels like the kind of pain you should just be able to shake out, like a muscle spasm. I walked for a bit, and eventually was able to start running again, and that lasted for another couple miles and then it came back again, after I hit about a half mile of trail that had deep, fine sand on it.

No, no, no, no, no, said the knee.

By this time it was so bad I called Sweet Baboo to meet me in the parking lot about a mile ahead. tNo matter how I moved my right leg it hurt, so I finally started SAUNTERING so as to take advantage of the rest from the pain that I got between each step. I limped all the way back to the car, and once I'd sat down for a while and it stiffened up, I could barely hobble.

I ate comfort food, and it comforted me. Then I came home and continued the aspirin regimen I started yesterday. Then I iced the knee and took a nap and right now it's feeling much better. No throbbing or anything.

Believe it or not, I'm actually encouraged: a week ago I couldn't run after 3 miles. By Thursday I was able to complete a 5 mile run relatively comfortably. Today I did a total of 15 miles. It seems that I cannot do anything downhill or technical, only flat and smooth. Tonight I'll roll on the foam roller that I bought for Sweet Baboo until my eyes bleed based on information I've read here and here. Later this week I'll get deep tissue stuff done by my friend and masseuse and fellow Outlaw. So, we shall see.

Two weeks to the Grasslands Marathon. I wonder if I'll be able to do it.

Update, that evening: I just rolled on the foam roller thing. Oh. My. God.
Who invented this torture? Who said to themselves, "Huh, I'll just try a myriad of extremely painful moves and see if any of them have any benefit at all.''
Good thing it works.

...

the Jimmy speaketh

The moral of the story:

You don't need to have "equipment" to not enjoy ice between your legs.

Now here's the rest of the story.

So, I'm at Wednesday night bricks with The Jimmy. He's having me do various movement, stretches and extensions so he can identify where the pain is coming from.

"Does this hurt?"

"No."

"How about this - feel anything?"

"Nope."

"What about now. Any pain?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"nunh-unh.

"And now?"

"Nope."

"Anything?"

"No."

"Now?"

"Nope."

"Anything? "

"Nope."

By now, I'm on my back on a PT table with one leg raised. Then the Jimmy pushed his elbow into a spot at the base of my buttock, where my left sit bone is.

"What about now?"

"OWIE OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW!!!!!!"

The Jimmy thinks it's the very top of my hamstring, strained when I took a wrong step and then twisted to compensate for it. I read some about it, which never helps. I think he's talking about this: Hamstrong Tendon or this: High hamstring tendinopathy.

I, of course, am running all the worst cast scenerios through my mind. Thanks to having an active weight-lifting, cross country teen, and a husband whose childhood nickname was "zipper" due to all the stiches he had growing up, and everyone who gets injured and blogs about it, and too many episodes of House, and the Internet, I have a an array of frightening possibilities in my head.
Hip stress fracture. Avulsion fracture. Ischial bursitis.

For now, I am ordered to ice the area. To reach it by ice, the pack basically goes between my legs. 4 minutes on. 4 minutes off.

That's a long 4 minutes, as you can surmise.

You don't need to have "equipment" to not enjoy ice between your legs.

And now you know the rest of the story.

...