Sometimes It's Good To Not Keep Score

I started out on a 6 km run yesterday when all of a sudden ... my Garmin died.

At first I cursed myself (why didn't you make sure your watched was charged up? Geez!) but then came to the realization that it really wasn't the end of the world (chill out, girl - it's no big deal!). 

So often I have become reliant on doing what my Garmin tells me to do. Before I was injured, on long runs I would be timing myself to walk every 10 minutes; now that I'm still in recovery, I've been timing myself to walk every four minutes. I adjust my pace based on what my heart rate is doing. Each kilometer my watch is programmed to beep and indicate how long it took me to run that kilometer. It can get a bit much.

But not yesterday!

When my watch blinked off, it was a great opportunity to just run. There was no need to track my heart rate, or monitor my pace, or obligation to stop every four minutes for a walk break; I was slave to my data no more! I took it easy, sure, but it was a chance to truly listen to what my body wanted to do. If I felt like walking, I walked. If I wanted to run, I kept going. If it felt like I was speeding up, I slowed down. 

It can get so analytical, tracking so much of my running information and using those results to be prescriptive in my training. Yesterday's blip felt a bit unnatural at first, but in the end, I'm glad it happened. It was unexpected but I think, just what I needed. 

"You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometime,

you just might find you get what you need." Makes sense to me. 

In Appreciation

When I started writing Five by 35, I was unsure how it would be received and if anyone would even read it. It's been a little unbelievable to run into friends who assure me, "I'm reading!" or exclaim, "I love your blog!" or even, "You've been really inspirational!"

Hearing all these wonderful words and knowing that there are people out there who actually enjoy reading what I'm writing (who knew?), I wanted to take a moment to share with you some of my own sources of inspiration.

Here are just a few of the people in my life who have recently committed to their own fitness goals, and who I have been incredibly inspired by these past few months. In no particular order ...

Howard and Carole: started cycling recreationally a few years ago as a way to improve their health - and who, between them, have gone on to participate in races such as the Whistler Gran Fondo and Van Fondo, and also now have completing the Tour de Blast in their sights;

Tory: ran the London Marathon to celebrate turning 35 years old;

Jen Q: returned to running shortly after having her first child, switched to VibramFive Fingers in the hopes of appeasing her "leathery IT bands" and took no prisoners when she finished her first ever 10 km race last month;

Jackie: took over my spot in the Whistler Half Marathon and ran an amazing time, despite some crazy elevation;

Kathy P and Barry: cycled from Vancouver to Seattle in support of the Ride to Conquer Cancer;

Tera: completed two legs of a five-leg relay at Edge to Edge, despite torrential rain and having to run a distance she wasn't originally expecting to run;

Rochelle: is fighting a battle with cancer and taking part in The Underwear Affair for a second time, bringing awareness to below-the-waist cancers;

Jatinder: a speedy runner previously beset by injury, back on the wagon and training for the ING New York City Marathon after having to sit out last year's race (and who is also pondering moving up to an ultramarathon); 

Sabrina: amazes me with her sport-specific training regime and constant new personal best times on the Grouse Grind;

Jeny Y: for the first time ever, is running two half marathons in one year; and

Christina S: who has signed up for her first ever 5 km race!

You may think of yourselves as "regular" people, but I think you're amazing because you are willing to try things that other "regular" people are scared of or unwilling to do. You set goals to improve yourselves, look to achieve those goals and then draw from your own strength to get 'er done. I'm really proud of all of you! 

Way to go, my peeps. Thanks for the inspiration.

Saying Goodbye to Marathon #3

Here we are. It's race day in Tofino and Ucluelet and instead of running Edge to Edge I am sitting in front of my computer in Vancouver. 

I made the executive decision last weekend to not run. My recovery's been going well, but I wasn't feeling strong enough and didn't want to risk re-injury after making so much progress.

But here's the thing. This is probably a little strange, but in the past few weeks I've found myself alternating between the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Is that weird? It's an injury, not a death in the family ... right? But often I'd wonder what I did differently (why now? What did I do wrong?) and then feel outraged that my Five by 35 schedule had been disrupted without any explanation. Or I'd get off the treadmill in my apartment building and be on the verge of tears, so upset that my leg still didn't feel right. 

I think part of the reason why I haven't blogged in the last week or so is because my emotions have just been all over the place. Quite honestly, I've felt a bit mental about it all. Is this normal? Part of me thinks that it is really strange to be having such a strong reaction to an overuse injury.

Then again, this was my first marathon after being off running for so long. I'd made such a big stink about it, starting a new blog and telling everyone about my running goals. And then, as you know, I'm a huge believer that good things come with bad; training was going extremely well and after I'd PB'd at the BMO Half Marathon maybe I should've seen this coming.

As for right now, in this very instant, I am okay. Even though I woke up thinking about the marathon I was not running today, and the finish line I would not cross, I also decided to go outside for a slow 6 km; I'm walking every four minutes but things are improving. 

So I guess this is acceptance - for now, anyway. And as best as it can be on a race day that I am not running.

Working my way back. Today's 6 km: almost feeling normal but not quite there.

Time Dropping - It Should Be A Thing

I was getting a little tired thinking about being injured, so this is me taking a break from blogging about my injury. Although, the fact I'm blogging again this week leads me to believe that I have way too much time on my hands. Guess this is what happens when I can't run.

Runners have a vocabulary that's all their own. There are many posts floating around in e-space on the various jargon used by runners, so I won't bother creating another. But if you're interested to brush up on your running terms, or always wanted to know the meaning of "fartlek", check out some of these online references:

Runner's World, Glossary of Running Terms
Real Buzz Glossary of Running Terms
Run Britain, Running Terminology Defined
Runstreet Glossary

As far as running vocab goes, time dropping is not really a runners' term. But I think it should be. Allow me to expand on this thought.

When I say time dropping, I'm not referring to getting faster. In my mind, it's like name dropping, but instead of bragging about pseudo-celebs or other sort-of important people one might claim to know, it's being a jerk by oversharing your race times. It happens when one runner is comparing him/herself to another runner and the information being provided is largely proffered and often unsolicited.

In short, time dropping is bragging about one's race times, in turn, diminishing the accomplishments of another runner, whether intentional or not.  

Here are some time dropping examples. These all actually happened ...

• A novice runner blogs about how his running has improved, not by doing speedwork, but by simply increasing his weekly mileage. A reader comments: "I once ran a 51.29 10 miler off of mileage alone." [really? that's great but he didn't ask how fast you ran]
• A racing event posts on a social media site, asking questions to encourage followers to comment on its page. The question of the day is: "What is your daily running distance?" A reader answers the question, adds a little story, and finishes with: "I squeak out a 3:20-3:30 race and promise myself more consistency and higher mileage next time." [how is this at all relevant to what was originally asked?]

• A runner walks into a gym and recognizes someone who recently ran the same race he did. They strike up a conversation and he shares: "I've never run a half marathon before. I wasn't sure how I was going to do but then I finished in 1:36." [leaving the other person insanely jealous because his own time was not nearly as fast - and it wasn't his first half]

• Prior to race day, a race posts information on its website about the pace bunnies and a runner comments: "I beat the 1:45 bunny back in '05." [and we care because ... ?]

Maybe I'm being a little harsh, but I've said it before and I'll say it again: running is an individual sport. When I'm out there, the only person I feel I'm competing with is me. And I'll be honest: I don't give a shit about what time someone else ran, unless I was trying to beat that time myself, or if that person happens to be a friend or running colleague.

I'm not saying I'm perfect. I know I've probably been a time dropper at some point in the last few years. I am aware that runners are a proud species and sometimes want to share their accomplishments with the whole wide world (Exhibit A: a blog about running, perhaps?). But when someone talks about their race times out of context or offers them when unasked, quite frankly, I find it annoying. 

I know there's no getting around it; time dropping will always happen by someone, somewhere. But I can do only what I can. 

Henceforth, a running resolution: from this day forward, I will make a conscious effort to stop time dropping. 'Cuz let's be honest ... it really is a little douche-y. 

On The 60-Day DL

As you know, I recently injured myself during training. I've started to think of myself as being on the DL ... that's disabled list, for you non-baseball fans. I'm no baseball expert but as far as I know, injured players can be placed on the disabled list for either 15 or 60 days. 

In my case, it's unfortunately starting to look like I'll be out for 60 days instead of 15.

I've been religiously doing the exercises I've been given at physio, but my last real run was May 14 - a fateful day, to be sure - which means I've been out 10 days. I tested my leg a few days ago on the treadmill, but my physiotherapist cautioned that if it started to feel any worse than a two out of 10 on the uncomfortable scale, I should cease activity; that didn't give me much to work with. I got off the treadmill after 15 minutes - most of which was spent walking, not running.

I was back at my sports medicine clinic for a check-up today and after a bit of poking and prodding, it's clear that my hamstring is still not happy. With only two weeks and two days to go until Edge to Edge, I can't help but think, I may not be able to run this thing.

The thought of not being able to run the race I trained for all spring is hugely disappointing, but I need to be realistic. I can barely run 15 minutes, let alone 42.2 km. And I certainly don't want to cause any further damage that could ruin any chance I have of running in the next few months.

My physiotherapist happens to be a sports nut himself. He's done a Half Ironman, a cycling tour from Vancouver to San Francisco (he and his friend averaged 100 km a day!) and was training to run the BMO Vancouver Marathon ... when he blew out his back in a snowboarding accident. Did he run the marathon? Hells, no. But - he will be doing Tough Mudder next month and I would bet anything that he'll sign up for the full at BMO again next spring.

So. I think there's a lesson to be learned here and I think it's something like this: "Those who choose to rest today, will race again another day."

More rehab updates to come. And I guess I'm going to have to start thinking (again!) about what races I want to run in order to achieve my Five by 35.

Houston, We Have A Problem

It's been a tough week.

It all started with my long run. After taking, what I felt, was a much needed weekend break from running, I set out after work on Monday to do 29 km. With about 10 km to go, I started feeling some tightness behind my left knee. I kept running, believing this to be no more than just a twinge.

Sadly, I was wrong.

With only three km to go and into the home stretch, I could barely walk, let alone finish my run. I had to call my husband to come pick me up. It's the first and only time I've ever not completed a long run.

We got home, I hobbled into our apartment ... and I immediately burst into tears.

I've been fortunate to have been mostly injury-free ever since I started running, experiencing only a minor setback last fall with a strain to my right quadricep. Many friends have asked me for advice on injury prevention and my reply has usually gone something like this:

• Slow down when you need to slow down. Most of us are recreational runners; there's no need to push yourself to the point where you may do more harm than good. That's just stupid.  
• Pay attention to your body. Pain is the precursor to injury.
• When in doubt, go to physio.

So I went to physio. And the diagnosis was four key words that all runners hate to hear: "It's an overuse injury."

In my mind, this is the utmost worst thing that can be spoken to anyone who is training for a race and it's because the best and first treatment is rest. 

Rest means not running. Not running means not making the weekly mileage. Not making the weekly mileage means falling behind. 

It's a tough pill to swallow, but I suppose if this was going to happen to my hamstring it's better that it's happened now, with four weeks to go until Marathon #3, versus right before race day.  In that sense, I suppose I lucked out. 

At least I can rehab, work on my biomechanics (gotta love physio!) and rest up. Rehabilitating properly now means I can reduce my risk of a more serious injury that might keep me from achieving my other running goals. 

That's all I can do for now: take it easy and try to be patient. Admittedly, not my best virtues but hopefully ones I can cultivate while on hiatus.

Did some spring cleaning recently and found 
all this tucked away. Keeping an eye on the prize.

And Then I Took The Day Off. On A Sunday.

I decided to not run the 29 km I'm supposed to be doing today. 

As I said to my husband this morning, "I'm not making any excuses.  I just don't wanna go."

I've been feeling a kind of post-race comedown ever since my kick ass half marathon last weekend. Even though I got out there this week for a couple of shorter runs, I didn't make it to Crossfit and I've just been a bit tired: tired legs (stupid lactic acid!), tired mind and low energy, overall. 

So instead of forcing myself out there today, I'm taking the day off. I'm going to tidy the house, take a nap (or two), watch TV, play with my bunny rabbits. I'm going to do these things, instead of being out there for four hours, on a Sunday morning, weaving in and out of the crowds of tourists/children/oblivious dog-walkers I would inevitably have to negotiate on such a beautiful day in Vancouver. 

And even though the marathon is in four weeks, I'm going to do this because I need the break. 

Hurrah for the couch and coffee I never normally see on a Sunday! And Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful moms out there.

Plenty more nice days ahead. I'll run then instead.