Turning a Corner

Last week was a truly difficult week for me.  I felt like I was trapped in a hole and couldn't get out.

Then the weekend came.  I had a really wonderful Mother's Day, which included a trip out to the mountains.  I got some swimming in, some water running.  And, as this week carries on, I've got some perspective.

I've been wearing this aircast for a week and a half now.  I'm at least a quarter, and possibly as much as a third through the time I'm stuck in this.

Even though I was devastated to hear this was a stress fracture, in many ways, it's not that bad of news. The fracture part means forced rest.  No weight bearing.  Period.  But, if I'm smart, the bone should be able to heal 100%.  If it was a soft tissue injury, I likely would have tried to keep pushing it, and return to training without it fully healed.  It's entirely possible it could have dragged out for even longer.

Sure, I'm concerned about this reoccurring, and I am going to try to address some of the possible causes, but I've got some of my optimism back.  I'm getting through this.

I chuckled when I saw this posted on facebook today.  It's practically one of the mantras I live by, and right now, it's not true.

Three years ago, when I made the decision to do a triathlon, it was as part of a resolution to stop avoiding failure.  I felt like I never gave anything my all because I was so afraid I couldn't succeed.  I've always believed that my mind was my biggest obstacle.

I was able to push my body beyond it's limit.  I ran when I shouldn't have.  That race was so important to me.  Feeling good about how I finished this race, that I'd practically quit on two years ago, was a huge success for me.  So important that I pushed my body as far as it could go, and beyond.

I'm tough.  I proved that.  I'll get through this, and prove it again.  Right now though, I don't need to prove I'm tough.  I need to prove I'm smart.  That is going to be even harder.

I'm up for the challenge.

The stages of injury grief

This week has been a rough week for me.  It's been up and down, but truthfully more down then up.

Monday I was happy.  I was able to confirm that the receptionist that told me I had to wear my aircast for everything but showers was out to lunch.  I do have to wear it a lot, but I'm allowed to take it off to drive, swim, water run, sleep, etc.

And then after that, reality kind of set in.  Because I still can't run.  And I find that devastating.  I know that perspective is in order, but it's hard.  Running is my drug, and I'm like an addict in withdrawal.

In fact, I was having so much trouble dealing that I even went to the trouble of googling things like "injured runner depression", "mentally dealing with running injury", etc.

I came across a number of articles and blogs that talked about the stages of grief and how they apply to running injuries.  I've already been through a few of them...

1. Denial

Um, would running a half marathon on a stress fracture count as denial?  Yes.  Yes, it would.  Fact is, I knew something was wrong.  I convinced myself that it wasn't that bad.  In fact, I successfully shut out the pain of running on a broken foot for the last 19 or so kilometers of that half marathon.

2. Anger

I'd say I hit this stage the moment I saw the dark spot on the bone scan.  At that point I knew I couldn't keep denying it.  A stress fracture is non negotiable when it comes to running.  You just can't do it.  There might be varying medical opinions on how long to stop running for, or what other activities you can do, but there is no negotiation on the running part.  "It's not fair", "I've worked so hard", "I don't deserve this".  All things I remember saying to my husband.

3. Bargaining

I think my entire doctor's appointment on Monday was bargaining.  I knew I couldn't run.  "What about water running?"  I asked.  "No," my doctor told me.  "Deep water running," I told her, "My feet don't even touch the bottom of the pool."  She agreed.

Swimming, my doctor was concerned about the kick and the push off:  No push off with the bad foot and I can even swim with a pull buoy at first.  Biking was a hard sell.  Agreed to only on the trainer, as I need to be able to pull the plug at any hint of pain.

4. Depression

A lot of teary moments this week.  Despite the concessions gained on Monday, the reality hit that I still can't run.  I'm a biased triathlete, because I will admit that the run is usually my favourite.  I am a lucky runner to whom the runner's high comes easily and often.  I've even experienced it on the track.  Even when I don't get the high, I still love my runs, and it's a rare day that I don't feel better after finishing.  Nothing else gives me the rush that running does.

The weather has been incredibly beautiful here.  Going out to Horse Creek road (my favourite road to ride on) would have been perfect.  A run along the river would have made me feel so good.  Nope.  Not happening.

This happened at a horrible time of year.  It puts all my upcoming races into doubt, and even if I am able to get things together for my last couple races, it's unlikely I'll be able to put out the performance I had hoped for.  It may even push my Ironman plans back a year.  Since doing the 70.3 last year, I concluded that I need more experience in that distance before going longer.  Now, I don't know if I'll even get it.

I've moped around, and eaten more crap then I'm willing to admit.  And I am so tired of every single person I see asking me why I am wearing the aircast.  I'm just tired of going over it again and again and again.  Normally when I get like this, I need to run. Preferably fast.  Long works too.

5. Acceptance

I can't say that I'm quite there yet, but I'm trying to go through the motions.

Today  I did my second water run, and truthfully, it wasn't so bad.  If it will keep my muscles from atrophying, making my eventual return to running easier, I'll do it.  I was told by a couple people that water running is a horrible experience, but I don't have the luxury of letting myself believe that.  I knocked off 45 minutes, without music.  Once I indulge myself in a waterproof ipod, I am confident I can go even longer.

Being in the water is actually the one place that I feel really comfortable right now.  I feel clumsy, uncoordinated, and like I'm clomping around everywhere lately.  While I've gotten pretty good at walking with the aircast, too much time on my feet and I'm very aware of an aching hip and knee on the other side, probably from how my body compensates.  When I'm in the water, it seems like my body just moves the way it's meant to.

Fact is, in the grand scheme of things, this is a blip in the radar.  I mean, the setback is only a matter of months.  Five years from now, I'm sure I'll be able to look back on this as good learning experience.

All I have to do is follow the rules, and let the bone heal.  Once it's healed, I can proceed with building back into it.  While I'm out, I can try to set myself up for success.  That includes following a much altered plan, which admittedly lacks my favourite sport, but will eventually allow me to come back to it.  Meanwhile, I'm going to work a bit on upper body and core strength as well as the cardio activities that are allowed.  I also am going to see about physio to hopefully address any muscle imbalances that might have contributed to this.  That might have to wait until after though.

Like I said, I don't think I'm quite at the stage of acceptance yet.  Not all of me, anyways.  I think I might have brought my logical side around to it, but my emotional side is usually a bit slower to change course.  I'm working on it.

Adventures on Crutches

The good news is I've now been cleared to drive, swim (with a pull buoy), water run, and trainer bike.  The bike was a harder sell with my doctor, and was only agreed to on the condition that I pull the plug at even a hint of pain, hence the necessity for the trainer rather then the open road.

For the most part right now, I'm getting around on an aircast.  It's a royal pain to put on and take off, and I have to do so every time I drive somewhere.  Going down stairs is a bit challenging still, but going up stairs isn't so bad.  Having said that, I can get around reasonably well on it.  It feels almost natural now, to the point that I joked with my husband that maybe I could even walk 5K in it.  Joking of course.  And 5K is only coincidentally the distance I'd have to go to finish a sprint triathlon.

The more challenging place to move around is the swimming pool.  Because I can't get the lining of my aircast wet, I use crutches to get the pool itself.  Somehow I envisioned crutches as being this easy thing to zoom around on.

Not so much.

The first day I was using the crutches, I got changed and then went to pick up my stuff to go from the change room to the pool (goggles, paddles, water bottle, pull buoy).  I realized I couldn't.  Moving on crutches non-negotiably uses both hands and I had none left to carry my stuff.  Everyone else had already gone into the pool.

I tried wrapping my goggles around everything and putting it on my arm. That did not work at all.  Fortunately for me, a friend of mine, who had just finished her swim, was still in the change room.  She offered to carry my stuff out to the pool.

And I hobbled along.  Desperately trying to keep the crutches from flopping around, and just focusing on getting to the pool.  Given my current state, and the fact I wouldn't be following the group workout entirely, I've been demoted to a slower lane, so I hobbled my way to the far side of the pool.

Once in the water, I felt great.  Monday's workout seemed to be designed especially for me and left my arms feeling like jello.  It was so nice to be in an environment where I didn't feel clumsy and awkward.

Then, it was time to get out of the pool.  And I discovered that getting up, when you can only weight bear on one foot, is not as easy as you might think.  It took me a good couple minutes to figure it out, and the thought crossed my mind that I might be better off with a walker rather then crutches.  Then I had to ask one of the few remaining people that was on deck to help me with my stuff.  Then hobble my way around the pool and back to the change room.

Yesterday, I went again, and I was still awkward and ungraceful, but I figured out a few things.  First off, I adjusted my crutches up a notch.  I had them set to the height adjustment for 5'11, which I'm just a bit below.  The heights on crutches are just guidelines.  When I put it to the 6'0 mark, it instantly got easier to use the crutches; they felt way more stable, and I didn't have to slouch way down.  I also found myself a little backpack for my pool toys.

As well, I concluded that the optimal route to take is the one that gets me from change room to water in the shortest distance.  Even if I'm not going to swim in the lane on that side, it is far easier for me to get across the pool in the water then it is for me to hobble around the pool on crutches.  As a bonus, that end of the pool even has a railing on it, so it's also easier to get out and back on my feet after.

I'm figuring things out one step at a time.  I desperately miss running, and nothing replaces it, but at least I'm not housebound and totally inactive.

When optimism is denial and google fails

In my last post, I mentioned the fact that I was "sort of" injured.  Something going on with my foot, but I figured it just needed some time to heal.  Then I had an appointment with my doctor, who sent me here:

To get a  bone scan, you get injected with radioactive particles.  Sadly, it didn't change me into a super hero, or do anything more interesting then allow the machine to take pictures of your bones.

More specifically, in my case, pictures of my feet.  (There was also one of my knees, as they check those as well, when there's a foot problem.)  Even more specifically, pictures of my feet that showed a very disturbing dark spot in the middle of my sore foot...

A dark spot that landed me in one of these:

That folks, is an aircast.  The aircast is because I have a stress fracture in my foot.  A stress fracture that I raced a half marathon on, because, although I knew I was injured, I was sure it wasn't a stress fracture.

Google is not a substitute for medical advice.

How did I fail myself so completely?

I was so sure it was from lacing my shoes too tightly that I ignored the fact that it was not getting better.

I read (somewhere on google) that a stress fracture does not feel better the longer you run on it.  On the other had, a soft tissue injury often will feel better.  It only took 10-15 minutes of running for me to stop noticing my foot.  That means, in my half marathon, that it either stopped hurting, or I was able to shut out the pain for a good 2 hours.  This is one of the things that convinced me it wasn't a stress fracture.

I read (somewhere on google) that a stress fracture will cause blinding pain when you press on the spot of it.  It hurt, but I certainly wouldn't describe it as blinding.  I've had massages that hurt more.

If I'm honest with myself, I knew there was something wrong.  I didn't want to get medical advice prior to my race because I was sure they'd tell me not to run it.  The only thing I was willing to call it for was a stress fracture, and I was so sure that's not what it was.

It scares me a little bit that I was completely able to shut out my body telling me that something was really wrong.  I take pride in my ability to shut out negative thoughts and the hurt that comes from working hard.  This is not something I should have shut out.  Yet I did.

This isn't a niggle, and it also isn't "sort of" injured.

Right now, I'm not really sure what the next step is.  When the doctor's receptionist called to tell me to go get the aircast, she also said I can't do anything without it on, which rules out even swimming, or water running.  Now, to be clear, this was coming from the receptionist, and in response to my questions about activity.  I'm hoping my doctor will give me better answers, as my research indicates that I should be able to do non weight bearing activities.

Of course, I'm basing that on information found on google, which has failed me before.  So, it's time to have chat with my doctor.  Damn weekend.

On the injured list - sort of

So, a week before my half marathon, I was out for a run.  About midway through, I felt like my shoes were a bit loose, so I tightened the laces.  As I was doing it, I remember thinking that I shouldn't make it too tight near the top, as I've had problems there before.  But I went ahead and made it nice and snug towards the toes.  Now, there's no guarantee that's what's giving me problems right now, but I'm pretty sure that's it.

I was lounging around after completing that run, refueling and showering.  I got up to get something for a kid - and almost collapsed from the pain that went coursing through my foot.  It hurt.  A lot.  Across the top of my foot, but kind of on the bottom as well.

It got better, so I did my scheduled run two days later.  It felt fine during the run, but worse after.  A bit better the next day, so I did bike/run intervals at spin class that evening.  Find during the run, but worse again after.

Then I didn't run again until race day.

It was twinging at me race morning, but I knew I was doing this race.  There was a bit of twingyness the first few kilometers, but then it went away.  In fact, in the last few kms, my head was trying to make up every excuse in the book to walk, and that's the one excuse that never even crossed my mind.  I finished the race with no problems from the foot.

And paid for it after.

I was limping almost immediately.  Then, the next day, I could barely walk.

I've been driving my son to the bus stop in the morning.  The bus stop that is half a block away...

So, you might be wondering why I'm only considering this "sort of" an injury?  It sure is more then a niggle.  Well, I might just be incredibly optimistic, but my gut is just telling me this isn't that serious.  My gut is telling me that I just need to be smart enough to let it heal more completely before running and I'll be fine.

Don't get me wrong.  I am still taking it seriously.  I have a couple ice packs on the go, I've been taking advil, and I even have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow.  However, while I've asked Angie for alternatives to runs for the rest of this week, I am currently expecting to run early next week.  Not exactly planning, because if I think it will make things worse, I'll call those, but expecting.

On the plus side, I am still good to bike and swim.

And, I think I might be able to walk my son to the bus stop tomorrow.

Police Half Marathon Race Report

The Police Half Marathon.  My first half marathon, 2 years ago.  A race course that beat me and left me waiting to redeem myself on it.

I made the difficult choice not to run it last year.  As a self coached athlete, I wasn't confident in my ability to blend my half ironman plan with a half marathon plan.  Plus, I knew that my tendency to favour run training over bike training had to end.  Last year, that was the right choice for me.  This year, I have a coach that believes in me and consequently a program tailored for me, rather then one out of a book.  Game on.

I arrived about 45 minutes early for the race.  This turned out to be a good amount of to find parking, use the facilities and grab a photo with the Calgary Police mascot.

This might be "Simon the safety Bear", but google was less helpful then I had hoped in identifying him.

 I also took a minute to snap a picture of the start/finish line.  Last time I did this race, the ground was white...

Prerace, I managed to connect with some friends and Team Trilife teammates.  The helped calm my nerves some as I chatted a bit before heading out.

I was nervous about this race.  Could I hold my pace?  Could I handle the hills?  Could I stay strong at the end?  Would my foot hold out for me?  I was a bit worried about that one, given I'd had trouble with it the previous week.

I had talked about it with my husband the night before.  "If I don't pull this off, I'm going to have to do this race again next year," I told him.  I didn't want to have to do this race again.  If I ever decide I want to, fine, but I wanted to lay to rest the need to redeem myself.

Before the race, I chatted a bit with Shannon, a team trilife teammate.  We'd met before, but never talked a lot.  Her need to finish this race was similar to mine.  She'd done it before and never held on, the way she wanted to, in those last few kilometers. She needed to put it to rest, just like I did.  We lined up and then headed out...

The first few kilometers felt alright.  My pace felt fine, although I had to pull myself back a bit.  It's mostly downhill at the start, so it's a matter of finding the balance of accepting the free speed without going too hard and burning out early.  My foot twinged at me a bit, up until I hit about kilometer 4, just letting me know that it wasn't quite happy.  Then it let up, and I didn't think about it again until after the race was done.

Km  1: 5:59
Km 2: 6:01
Km 3: 5:55
Km 4: 6:12

In the 5 km, I noted the point where I bailed and ended up on my hands and knees last time I did this race.  Not much risk of that this year.  Aside from a bit of wind, the weather was practically perfect.  No ice or snow.

Km 5: 6:24
Km 6: 5:58
Km 7: 6:23

For some reason, I felt like walking around 7 km in.  I did a quick self assessment and almost laughed at myself.  No pain, I wasn't even really uncomfortable.  Just my body trying to play games with me.  I carried on.  I did take a quick gel somewhere in there, during which I allowed a few seconds of walking to avoid choking.

Km 8: 6:08
Km 9: 6:26
Km 10: 6:12

It was somewhere after 10k that I started getting uncomfortable.  No pain, but this wasn't easy anymore.  The whole course is hilly, but this is the point where it shifts to far more up then down.

Km 11: 6:33
Km 12: 6:18
Km 13: 6:14
Km 14: 6:19

During km 14, I took another quick walk for a gel.  I had been planning on taking it around 1:20 into the race, and I was past that, but I wasn't seeing any garbage cans, so finally just took it.  As I took it Shannon came up behind me.  We said a few words, but I don't think either of were up for too much talking.

Weaselhead was coming up.  I always think that I might actually run it some day, but I remember in Calgary 70.3 last year, the people coming up it when I went down were mostly walking.  So, if athletes finishing a half ironman 1.5+ hours before me walk it...

Km 15: 7:26

Even walking up the hill left my legs feeling a bit toasted.  At this point last time, I felt like I had been forced into walking.  This time, I'd made the choice and I was good with it.  Once up though, it was time to run again.

Km 16: 6:16

Shannon and I were still running together, and I was totally thankful for it.  When I knew we were into the last 5 kilometers, I turned to her and said "This is where we decide if we're going to do this race again."  I needed to remind myself.  It was starting to hurt, and I needed to remember that I didn't want to spend 2 more years regretting the choices I made in the last 30 minutes of this race.

Km 17: 6:07

Angie and I had talked about countdown to hurt prior to the race.  Basically, she reminded me that it was going to hurt.  In fact, if I raced it right, it would hurt.  One technique she suggested was doing a countdown to hurt.  I am generally really good at figuring out pacing and how long it will take me to run, but I just couldn't make the math work.  I knew I was running a bit over 6 minutes a kilometer, and just couldn't calculate.

Km 18: 6:48

Frick.  It hurts so much.  Shannon's still running.  Man, I want to walk.  My calf is really tight.  I might be getting muscle cramps.  I might have to walk a bit to shake off those muscle cramps?  My legs are burning.  Keep running...

Km 19: 6:08

Who puts FUCKING HILLS so close to the end of a half marathon?!  They didn't seem this steep going down them at the beginning.  Damn it, this hurts.  I can't feel my legs.  They've gone numb and tingly.  Run.  Countdown to hurt?  Um, 20 minutes? 12? 18?  I can't figure it out.

Km 20: 6:29

Crap.  I think I might need to crap.  Maybe I should detour to that tree.  No, that's an excuse.  It's not really that bad.  Keep running, damn it.  Shannon's still running.  If I stop to walk, she'll know.  Have some pride.

Okay, just around that building and into the finish.  DAMN IT!  It's not just around that building.  It's another building that looks so much further away.  RUN.

Km 21: 6:27

Finally, around the building.  We've done it!  Okay, not quite.  Let's finish!

Somehow, I had a finishing sprint in there.  We turned the corner, and gunned it.

Final 0.36km (as measured by my garmin): 1:57 (pace, 5:22/km)

Done.

Final time: 2:14:49

More important then the time:

The course didn't beat me.  I beat the course.

Now...

An ice pack on my foot, some time hobbling around, and bloody incredible satisfaction.

WORTH IT.

Race Day!

Usual prerace picture, but without my number because I've already attached it to my fuelbelt (775)

Well, this is it!  Today is the day.  Time to go out there and nail a challenging half marathon.

The weather is looking good.  No complaints from this department.  No blizzard this year.  A little cool, but not enough to cause any difficulty.  Clear pathways, no foot of snow.  Possibly a bit of wind, but I'll take it without complaint.

I'm ready.

It's time to rock and roll!  Look for my post race update later.  :)