The Return of the Low-Impact Triathlete

The only thing worse than coming home from a community pool with the smell of chlorine seeping from your pores is coming home from a community pool without the smell of chlorine seeping from your pores.  Following my first aquajogging session in more than a year, I can report the latter.  It makes you wonder about the cleanliness of the pool at the Chelsea Recreation Center and its urine to water ratio.

Clearly, I am fighting yet another injury or else I wouldn't have spent the better part of a beautiful Sunday afternoon on a bike and in an indoor pool.  This time, it is in my IT band and it came out of nowhere.  Actually, I shouldn't have been all that surprised last Friday when a pain on the outside of my knee caused me to stop in my tracks and walk home.  Just days before, I had proudly told Heidi that I had not been injured in 14 months.  My fate was sealed.

The injured IT band is frightening new territory for me.  I don't know much about it except from what I have learned from the Google.  Of course, Google anything enough and you can convince yourself that the pain you are experiencing is symptomatic of a brain tumor and you have six days to live.  That is why I attacked this injury aggressively and immediately.  Anyone who is familiar with my history of injuries knows I have a tendency to freak out on the first day I am unable to run.  I don't exactly under-react to anything. So, it should be no surprise that I have seen two doctors and one physical therapist so far and will be seeing a new physical therapist on Wednesday.

But that is a little over the top for even me.  Let me explain.  The first doctor I saw was not a runner and gave me some photocopied exercises from Runner's World.  I've been a Runner's World subscriber for many years and my subscription fee is not covered by my insurance.  Some friends recommended another doctor in town who specializes in running injuries.  With nothing to lose, I made an appointment with him and he is the one who diagnosed the IT band issue which he referred to as "acute" and said it would probably take a couple of weeks to work itself out.  He prescribed a heavy duty anti-inflammatory, some topical cortisone cream and physical therapy.  Looking for convenience, I stopped into the PT practice closest to my office. This particular office was also not very runner-oriented, and when the PT told me it was going to be eight weeks before I ran again, I tuned her out.  Everything she said sounded like Charlie Brown's parents for the rest of the visit.  I've learned my lesson.  Check and make sure the practice is accustomed to dealing with runners before wasting your time.

Other than seeking medical treatment, I've hit the cross-training hard, spending hours on end on the elliptical, stationary bike and as of today, in the pool.  I've had to re-evaluate my spring season, scratching this weekend's Healthy Kidney 10K and next weekend's Brooklyn Half Marathon off my schedule.  At this point, I am still holding out hope for a return to racing by late June or early July. 

How did it happen?  I blame Boston and myself.  I think the marathon was the catalyst.  The conditions and the effort took a tremendous toll on my body.  It was a toll that took a week or so to fully realize.  However, the underlying weaknesses were there.  With the increase in mileage and intensity leading up to the race, I let strength and stretching exercises fall by the wayside.  I know full well that to run at the level I desire to run at, these exercises are of utmost importance.  IT Band injuries are often the result of weak glutes, a problem that has been the cause of past injuries.  I hope this is the last time I have to regret my laziness in the prevention department.

Hopefully, it won't be long before I'm back at it.  With any luck, I'll be stronger and well-rested.  Until then, if you know anything about the IT band, or have any good advice, I'll take anything and everything I can get!

December hates me

One year ago today, I was wallowing in self-pity, sporting a boot and wondering when I'd be able to run again. Today, I find myself in a similar situation. A little less self-pity and no boot. Oddly enough, this latest injury didn't manifest itself while I was running. I felt the first twinges of it when I was standing at a bar in the Flatiron district, drinking a Guinness with my buddies Brian and Camissa. Out of nowhere, there was a dull pain in my left heel. I walked home that night thinking maybe it was simply time for a new pair of loafers.

The next day, I woke up with the same pain. Since I am not training for any races and just running leisurely, I was not yet to the point of freaking out when I set out for an easy 8-9 miles in the park before work. The pain went away after about one mile. "Ok, this is nothing," I said to myself. The following day, the heel pain was again present in the morning. Again, it went away during my run, but this time was replaced by pain in my right hip and glute. I finished the run, then using the powers of deduction and Google, diagnosed myself with plantar fascitis. The hip and glute pain was obviously a result of compensation.

I traded the run for the stationary bike on Sunday, hoping to nip this in the bud. It was no big deal since as I said, this is supposed to be my down time, and I had some episodes of "This American Life" to catch up on anyways. When I met with my coach Jerry the following day, he told me to go see a sports chiropractor immediately. Within two hours, the folks at Duke Sports Clinic were doing Graston, active release, stim and ultrasound on my foot. They did an hour-and-a-half of work and assured me I could run through this with the proper treatment.

My excitement over that news turned into skepticism when Tuesday's run brought on the same pains. Tonight's run was a repeat. In fact, just more than five miles in, I feared my gait was changing and I stopped and walked the mile back from the park to the gym. I don't think I should run through this. On that walk, I decided I am not going to run for the next three to four days. Bike and water-running will have to do. Hopefully this injury is fresh enough to be fixed with a few days of rest and careful treatment.

I am being aggressive and diligent. I spent the entire day at work today with either a frozen water bottle or a golf ball (for massaging) under my foot. It should be noted that this is by far, the most use I have ever gotten out of a golf ball. However, while I think my foot is where the pain is reaching the surface, I am under the belief that the real problem is in my calf. There is a trigger point in the soleus muscle that has a direct connection to the plantar. For the past three nights, I have massaged it with the Tiger Tail, the foam roller and a lacrosse ball to the point of tears. I am sleeping with a Strassburg sock (actually, I go to bed with it and then in an annoyed state of semi-consciousness, I tear it off about halfway through the night).

I have to wonder if there is a bigger problem here. Three injuries in two years and all on my left side. I know it's my weaker side, but is it the imbalance that is leading to problems this drastic?

Fortunately, there are 18 weeks until Boston. This injury forces me to do what doesn't come naturally, and rest for the remainder of December. This year, the holidays are once again, about healing.

25 Days in Review

I am not a big "week in review" guy. I don't have a problem with it, it just isn't my style. But, knock on wood, April has treated pretty me pretty well...in comparison with January, February and March who are all jerks. So, I thought I'd break it down for those who are without Athleticore, and for some odd reason, care.

I set April 1st as the beginning of a base-building period (just running -- no workouts), with May 1st being the target for starting a new training plan. Prior to April 1, I had spent roughly three weeks of March working my way up to being able to run every day, starting with three walk-runs a week on the treadmill, easing into outdoor running on pavement, and eventually running 6-7 days a week. As I write today, I am feeling fit and fresh. I've put together a tentative race schedule, and I'm excited to finally get 2011 underway.

April 1-3 -- 26.9 miles. 1hour, 10 minutes of corrective exercises/strength training.
Key Run: April 2nd on the McMullen greenway. I met up with Aaron, Caleb and Yusef. I hadn't run at McMullen since before the marathon in November.

April 4-10 -- 57.3 miles. 1hour of spinning. 1 hour, 16 minutes of corrective exercises/strength training.
Key Run: April 8th I did 8 solo miles around the Dilworth/Myers Park area. It was just an awesome Charlotte spring morning. Crisp, but not cold. The sun was just coming up. I came back feeling sappy about my sport of choice.
Interesting note: I have not biked since this week.

April 11-17: 69.3 miles. 57 minutes of strength/corrective exercises.
Key Run: April 17th I met Jesse in Arlington for my long run. It was good catching up with him because we hadn't run together in years. After he split off, I got to see some nice scenery (Roosevelt Island). I got lost and ended up running an extra three miles, but it was really nice out and I felt great. By far longest run since the marathon and 100% pain free.

April 18-April 24: 64.8 miles. 1hour, 30 minutes of strength/corrective exercises (including one appointment with Mark Kane.)
Key Runs: This was just a solid week. I ran with three different groups Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and got a chance to run with 11 different people (Jordan, Thomas, Michelle, David, Paul, Justin, Kevin, Jason A, Jason M, Aaron, Kahn). We did the Museum Mile course on each run. Saturday the 24th, I was in Lexington, Virginia visiting Lauren's dad for Easter. I hated the idea of getting up before the sun to do my long run, but ended up glad that I did. I logged 16 miles on the scenic and forgiving (soft-surface) Chessie Trail and felt as good as I have felt since early fall. I was effortlessly clicking off 6:45s. At the end of the run, I randomly ran into Jenna W who was out for a run before coaching at the Big South conference meet going on at VMI.

One more week of this "easy" stuff, then it's time to focus on some competitions. I've registered for the Boilermaker, and this year I am actually going to run it. I am looking forward to a little bit of speed work with Cailtin, Meagan and, Alice tomorrow morning. But, the challenge going forward is just as much about being smart and sustainable as it is about being fast and competitive.

Beauty in the Basics

I had the chance to run in the Palo Duro Canyon on Monday. It’s the second largest canyon in the United States, appropriately located in Canyon, Texas. And, it is breathtakingly beautiful. Winding my way through the hard pack trails, past stunning rock formations and up and down steep hills, I found myself feeling thankful. There was a chill in the air, not another human being in sight and dead silence. If you think that sounds like the perfect setting for a catharsis, you’re right.

Somewhere during that run, I learned something new about running. Scratch that. Perhaps, I remembered something old. Running, the same sport that gets your heart rate soaring, your sweat glands pumping and your legs aching, can be very relaxing. For the past three years, I have been sort of a running snob – when it comes to my own running, not others. If I’m not doing a week filled with fartleks, tempos and track workouts, I’m not working hard. I can't afford to have that attitude anymore. For the time being all I can and should do is run. 40-60 minutes a day, no special instructions. Just put on my shoes (and my shorts) and go out the door. I don't wear the Garmin. I just run on feel. At first, I was anxious, and now I find it very freeing.

And that is how I felt as I made my way through the Palo Duro Canyon. Free. Running and thinking about how much fun it is. No Garmin. No mile markers. Just one foot in front of the other. It’s the best way to explore a new landscape. When there was something that caught my eye, I stopped and stared. A couple of times nothing in particular caught my eye, I would find myself amazed by my surroundings and I would take a few seconds to stand there on the trail and take in a panoramic view.

The day before, although I had done my own run in the morning, I was excited for the opportunity to join Lauren on her three mile afternoon run. We were running from her grandparent's farm and the entirety of the run was along a cattle pasture. I spent the run coaxing the cows to race us and believe it or not, they did. I kept yelling "moo" at them, and since they responded, I can only assume I am fluent in the language of the bovine.

The point of all this; neither of these were my fastest runs. Neither run was my longest run. But, both are runs I won't soon forget. How many 7, 8 or even 15 milers have I been on during a marathon cycle that I can't remember a darn thing about?

Don't worry, I am not going all soft. I want to run fast. I itch to be back on the track. I want to race and secretly, I am planning races to target. But when you are in a situation that you can't change, you do yourself a much better service when you see the positives of it. Sure, these runs I just gushed about weren't the capstone runs of Boston training by any means, but no run is unimportant. Each one is a step to getting to where we want to be. We all have a goal in mind. Maybe it's to lose weight. Maybe it's to PR in a new distance. Maybe it's to cut down on gas. For me, it's to get back into shape and strenghthen some injured muscles. Sure, there is a big difference between running marathons and running errands. But, we all start at the same place...with an easy run.

Confession of a Rebel Recovering Runner

I don’t follow the rules of the faux road. That is to say, the treadmill. Let me explain. I am on my second return from injury/to running in as many months. Unlike the last one, this one is a fault of my own stupidity, impatience and immaturity as a runner. Also, unlike the last injury, I am coming back from this one slowly. While I thought I was being conservative in February, I was in fact, not. That brings us to this week. Following a week of nothing (literally, nothing. I wrote a blog entry called “Living Lethargically: A Non-Training Log,” but decided not to publish it) and a week of biking and pool running, I have advanced to a run/walk every other day schedule. Jay from a month ago would have scoffed at the mere suggestion of such a pedestrian program. But this is a new me. This is a me that has spent the last three Sunday mornings at physical therapy, learning must-do daily strengthening exercises for my weakened left muscles. This is a me that has spent one hour a week on an acupuncture table, needles sticking out of my head, arms, legs and feet (a practice I was previously skeptical of). It’s worth noting that none of this was free.

Pride be damned. If I’m told to walk/run, I’m going to walk/run. If I must do it on the treadmill, I’m going to do it on the treadmill. Monday was the first day. The plan was 10 minutes run, 5 minutes walk times four. It was raining Monday, so the YMCA was particularly busy. I found an open treadmill and hopped on, adjusting my speed to a 7:15ish pace. When 10 minutes was up, I reluctantly cranked down the speed to a brisk walk. I looked around to see if anyone noticed. I wanted to explain to everyone what I was doing and why I was doing it, even though they definitely didn’t care. As the end of my second walk approached, I ran into a problem I have never experienced before (because my rule in the past has been, unless there is a tornado outside, don’t run indoors). My 30 minute time limit was about to expire and there was a line forming to the left. People had written their names on the white board to secure a spot. Heck, there was a sign on the treadmill that clearly stated I had 30 minutes. Of course, I wasn’t going to quit my run halfway through. I hadn’t run in three weeks, and I wanted to take in all I was allowed to take. I started thinking of ways I could fool people. Once the belt stopped, how long could I run in place before someone noticed I was running on an non-moving treadmill? Would it be enough time to get it started again?

As the belt slowed, people began to perk up. They could sense the silence of my treadmill. Slowly, they got out of their stretching positions and moved toward me. My legs kept moving. I was furiously pushing buttons. The stupid screen kept flashing “Great workout!” and “Workout summary…” I tried to clear it. It wasn’t working. There was a guy next to me now, waiting. I kept my iPod on, pretending to be oblivious to anything but the music and the movement. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he moved on and I finished my run.

Why am I writing all this? I guess it serves as a confession. I feel guilty about acting so inconsiderately and wanted to get it off my chest. The happy ending is that the gentleman that so patiently waited for my treadmill didn’t have to wait much longer. Scarred by my actions, I decided to alter my schedule. This morning when I was unexpectedly woken up at 4:55am, I decided that since I was up, I might as well just go run then. In another hour, the crowd would filter in. So I did, and there was no one waiting.

Running on the Moon

The following is the full text of an article I wrote on the Alter G Treadmill for the Charlotte Running Club newsletter.

Spring in Charlotte. It's 65 degrees on a Sunday morning. The sweat on the brow of your running partners has not even had the chance to dry following their two hour leisurely run through the trails. No doubt they talked about everything from who's dating who to the controversy over teacher unions. You, on the other hand, were not there. You were looking for alternate ways to pass the time so routinely filled by the long run. An hour long pool run is planned for later today. You'll follow it with 45 minutes on the bike. If you're lucky, someone will stop by and chat with you for five minutes before moving on to the next machine. Worst case scenario, you count the lights on the cieling one more time -- just in case they added one -- or watch golf on TV. This is the lonliness of the injured long distance runner.

As competitve or recreational harriers, we all have or someday will, live this reality. Whether, it's days, weeks or months, nothing about it is fun. It's an exercise in mental tenacity. Running is our outlet right? How do we get our endorphin fix?

I have been on the injured reserve on and off for the better part of four months. First, with a stress fracture in my ankle and a little later with an acute strain of one of the muscles in my back. If there is an exercise to be done that increases my heart rate or fitness level and does not involve pounding on the aformentioned body parts, I have done it. So, when Queens University Cross Country/Track and Field Coach and American Distance Project Coach Scott Simmons emailed the Charlotte Running Club to tell us a public use anti-gravity treadmill was now available at the Charlotte Running Company, I could hardly wait to get in touch with him.

Through a partnership with Scott Dvorak, owner of the Charlotte Running Company Dilworth location, Simmons brought the $30,000 machine to Charlotte. According to Dvorak, his store is now the only running store in the United States to offer the relatively new technology to its customers.

What is it? Why is it so expensive? Simmons explains it as the opposite of the workout equipment you would find at the International Space Station. While treadmills for astronauts add gravity to allow those in space to maintain bone density, the anti-gravity treadmill, known properly as the Alter G, does the opposite. A runner can reduce their body weight by up to 80%. For example, a 100 pound runner can simulate the impact of a 20 pound runner. This is achieved by using a pressure controlled chamber from the waist down that gently lifts the runner. Currently, Alter-Gs are found at the training compounds of some of the best distance programs in the country. U.S. Olympian Kara Goucher and Marathon World Record holder Paula Radcliffe famously used the treadmills to stay in shape during their pregnancies. Thanks to fundraising, there is also an Alter G on the campus of Queens University.

But Simmons stresses that this endeavor is separate from his work at Queens. He hopes it will be a selling point for competitive runners to choose Charlotte as their training ground. Simmons, who has coached four U.S. Olympic Trials qualifiers and Fernando Cabada to the American 25K record, aknowleges that Charlotte is not as attractive as distance hot spots like Flagstaff, Boulder and Eugene and he says the Alter G is one step toward enhancing the Queen City's profile.

For Dvorak, the investment is worth the potential pay off. "Honestly, when Scott Simmons came to me and asked me if I was interested in partnering my immediate reaction was 'why not?,' Dvorak says, "It's something that's innovative, and it definitely has a coolness factor." Both Dvork and Simmons want to shake the perception that this machine is simply a tool for elites. "I think it could potentially be for anyone," Dvorak, himself an Olympic trails qualifier in the 5K, says. "If someone has invested a lot of time and effort in training for a marathon, and they get a small injury or strain, the Alter-G could potentially allow them to train through the injury without too much loss of fitness."

Petra Simmons, Scott's wife and an Olympic hopeful agrees. "You get aches and pains when you run at a certain level and it doesn't have to be fast or slow," she says. "It's just whatever you can handle." Mrs. Simmons, who is also a runner and staff member at the American Distance project says the Alter G is not just for injured runners. She uses it as a preventative tool. Training to qualify for the Half Marathon World Championships, Simmons says she does a lot of her tempo runs and faster long runs on the Alter G to minimize the pounding on her body. "I don't take too much weight off, maybe 10 pounds, and I am doing things I was doing ten years ago," says Simmons, 37.

Intrigued by what I had seen and heard, I slipped into the special shorts you have to wear before zipping into the pressurized chamber. They're tight and a bit constricting especially for men, which I can see getting a bit irritating on longer runs. However, I am somewhere between a small and a medium and the small size may have been a bit too snug on me. The machine calibrated my weight and once it had locked in, I was free to begin running. I started by reducing my 150 pound weight by about 20 percent. Since my injury is muscular, I thought the more weight off, the better. By a quarter mile into my run, I had reduced myself to about 30 pounds. At first, you feel like you are going to fall, but you quickly become used to the unnatural feeling of weightlessness. A little more than 2 miles, and I was done. Two miles at just below 7:00 pace left me sweaty and feeling like I had actually just done something.

My only reservation was that I sensed my gait had been altered. Petra Simmons confirmed my suspicion. She recommends watching your form, or having someone watch your form for you when you first run on the Alter G. She warns that runners have a tendency to change it up if they are not paying attention.

With $30,000 spent on the equipment, Simmons hopes to make the investment back and then raise money for his American Distance Project, a non-profit. Runners will be charged $70 for an individual session (1 hour) and $175 for a monthly pass (1 hour a day). Sessions can be booked online and are available currently during store hours (M-F 10am-7pm, Sat. 10am-5pm, Sun 1pm-5pm). Runners can use the shorts provided by the store, but are encouraged to buy their own for $75.

Realistically, it is a lot of money for the casual runner to spend, and Dvorak doesn't think it will mean big sales for merchandise in his store. But, that's not the point. "I don't expect it to be a huge draw to the store, but it could certainly help create some buzz," Dvorak says. "I have tried it briefly, and I'm intrigued. It'll be interesting to see how it all plays out."

The Charlotte Running Club plans to have an informational night and session with the Alter G. Stay tuned for details!

What you don't know can, in fact, hurt you very badly

Before last week, I didn’t even know I had a quadratus lumborum. Now, I am acutely aware. In fact, I have assembled a team of experts who are also acutely aware and working to stop it from rebelling against the rest of my body.



So, that’s the diagnosis. A large muscle that stretches from my spine to my pelvis is tightened and possibly spasming. It causes an intense pain with each fall of my left foot. Until today, I found myself in a familiar place. The pool. Sunday, I aquajogged for 90 minutes. Ask me how that went. I was beginning to get used to and maybe even enjoy the smell of chlorine pouring from my skin.

Monday and today, I started off my mornings with a fairly vigorous swim. As I climbed out of the pool this morning, a thought popped in to my head. “What if this is making it worse?” I thought about all the twisting one does while swimming. Then, I debated internally over whether to share this bit of knowledge with the PT that is treating me. I did, and his answer was both what I expected and what I feared. He told me to shut it down. No exercising until the pain goes away. None. I am going to live how the other 90% of America lives for a while; inactively. I don’t remember the last time I went two weeks without exercising. It’s been at least 10 years. At least. I thought my eight weeks of no running were bad. This is a new kind of death sentence.

In hindsight, this is probably my fault. When I started running after my stress fracture, my hamstring and glutes were both tight. When the tightness went away, maintenance went by the wayside. Little did I know, the pain only went away because that trusty old QL stepped in to carry the load. It held on, God bless it, for dear life until one night, five miles into a run, it didn’t want to work that hard anymore. Now, it needs a little TLC. What it is going to get is a LOT of TLC. There’s already been massage, active release, physical therapy and tomorrow, acupuncture. I’m going to kill it with kindness.

Before anyone has a chance to think it, I know how to put things in perspective. I don’t have terminal cancer. I haven’t lost a loved one. People are dealing with much worse decks. But our personal tragedies are relative to who and where we are in life and this is a big one for me. I am grateful for all the things I have going, and am not asking for an “it could be worse” line. Of course it could be.

Fortunately, there is more to life than running and I am not talking about cycling and swimming. In the midst of all this self-pity wallowing, extended time in water, painful poking and prodding and needles sticking from my body, there’s been some interesting news.

Lauren got into General Theological Seminary in Manhattan. She was stunned. While I was VERY EXCITED, I was not stunned because I knew all along that she would be accepted. I was only surprised that they didn’t drive down to North Carolina and demand she come this instant. Of course, the natural follow up question is, “Will you also be moving to New York?” The answer is “yes.” I just won’t be moving there as soon as Lauren. She starts school in August, and I am contractually bound to Charlotte until the end of March. We’ll be doing the long distance thing for a while, including two months after our wedding on December 31st. And of course, I have to find a job.

In other wedding news, a lot of the planning is done. When you have a wedding on New Year’s Eve, you have to get all your ducks lined up early. I can tell you that our wedding party consists of Aaron Linz, Richard Austin, Stephen and Pierce Robbins, Sloan Crawford, Caitlin Chrisman, my sister Julie and Erin Donovan. I know my ushers are Paul Mainwaring, Jesse Contario, Peter Chambers and Nathan Thomas. The rehearsal dinner will be held at Providence Café. The guest hotel is the Hampton Inn & Suites at Phillips Place in South Park. We are still trying to nail down the official time of the ceremony, but we’re almost there. We’re still hammering out the guest list, but it will be limited to keep costs down.

I’ve been meaning to write that book recap, but I fear this post is already far too long. Instead, I’ll end with a quote that’s gotten me through my slump.

“Resentments are the rocket fuel that lives in the tip of my saber.”
 Charlie Sheen

A Minor (hopefully) Setback

Since January 22nd, the recovery has been going well. I am slowly building back up to normal mileage, hitting 47 last week. I have not been doing workouts, but have been keeping about 75% of my miles faster than 7:00 pace. There was a tight hamstring early on, but other than that, no aches or pains. That is until last night. I was running down East Boulevard when I started to feel a little pain in my butt. Since it wasn't my job causing the pain, I knew this was unusual. I was just shy of five miles into a planned seven miler, so I continued on up the hill and through some of the Dilworth neighborhoods thinking I could probably shake it.

By the time I got back onto East Boulevard, I could tell my gait was being altered by the pain. It had now spread into my lower back. I stopped and walked hoping to work out whatever the kink was. When I started running again, it hurt even worse. As I settled back into the pace, the pain alleviated but was definitely still present. Instead of tacking on to get to seven miles, I went straight home and called it a day at a hair over six. At this point, each foot fall sent a radiating pain through the left side of my body whether I was walking or running.

My preliminary investigation finds that this is either sciatica or piriformis. I have never had issues with either of these, so it comes as a bit of a surprise. Treatment options range from ice, heat, massage and PT to surgery. I am hoping this is just a minor tweak and the PT and massage I have scheduled for the next 48 hours do the trick. As I write this, I am lying on a bag of ice. I told my co-workers that normally I would just ice at my desk, but this injury requires me to take my pants off. Not that I am above taking my pants off at work, I just don't prefer it.

As another way to expedite the healing, I am taking today completely off. I have bailed on my scheduled track workout with Paul and Aaron. No pool. No bike. No elliptical. This is something I haven't done since January 28th. It didn't kill me then and it won't kill me today.

Before the pain hit last night, I had planned on writing a blog entry with a review of all the books I have read this winter. It's a solid list, but it will have to wait until next time.

The Slow Return

I feel like every time I launch into a story about my injury, I start it the same way: "The hardest part about getting hurt is..." Today, I can definitively say that the hardest part about getting hurt is coming back. It hurts. It's soul crushing and it takes an incredible amount of restraint.

I started running again on January 22nd, 17 days after my Doctor told me I could start back when I thought it was appropriate. That was a challenge in itself. The first run was really just a jog. 18:43 seconds at a warm-up/cool-down pace with Caitlin, Aaron, Ben and Billy. But oh, it felt so good. Nearly 19 minutes of bliss. The CRC Board of Directors had travelled to Asheville for our mission and vision retreat and to run the Hot Chocolate 10K. I had really looked forward to the race, but after accepting the fact that I wouldn't be at the starting line, I simply looked forward to being AT the race. Seeing people working the flats and the hills wasn't depressing, it was inspiring. Lauren, Aaron, Allen, Matt, Boriana, Sarah, Scott, Billy...they all had great races and it reminded me that I've had and will have great races too.

What's tough about building back up your strength and endurance is that it is just that --
building. Just like any project, when you rush, you are bound to screw the whole thing up. Runners who've been down seven weeks, can't just start running 80 miles a week again. Instead, you run a fraction of that distance and continue to cross-train to make up for the rest. After that first run in Asheville, I was back to my monotonous, yet important activities. To supplement my tiny running workout, I found myself in the pool at the Asheville YMCA, passing over the same band-aid stuck to the pool floor 100 times. Gross. Sunday morning when everyone got up early to find some trails in the mountains, I got up early and got in my car to make the two-and-a-half hour drive back to Charlotte. I drove almost directly to the Dowd YMCA (stopped for coffee and to see Pepper) where it was two hours of spinning and swimming.

Monday: Spin lift.
Tuesday: Perhaps the best proof of my desparation and lonliness. I woke up at 4:45am just to meet the Miner's Run group by 5:30 at McAlpine, run two miles out with them, then turn around and run back by myself. In the evening, I swam.
Wednesday: Spin, swim.
Thursday: Five easy miles in the morning before flying to Austin, Texas. When we got to Austin, Lauren was nice enough to take me a YMCA, where I swam a mile in a heated outdoor pool. I have to say, I am stunned by her willingness to aid in such an obsesion.
Friday: Off, although Lauren and I rented a kayak and rowed for an hour.
Saturday: 6 miles in Burnet, Texas at sub-7:00 pace. I've still got it! My legs hurt, but my heart feels fine.
Sunday: Only because it was run or do nothing, I did my first back-to-back runs. I only had a couple of beers on Saturday, but I must have drank enough to forget the marathon I apparently ran. Wow did my legs hurt! I limped along, waiting for five miles to be done and over with.

Today it was an hour on the elliptical and a swim. I'll try to run every other day this week. The thing is, running is so easy. You don't have to go anywhere to do it if you don't want to. You don't have to fight off all the people fighting for a machine at the Y. (Side note: it appears people are sticking with their resolutions a little longer than usual. Come on people, it's February! Wendy's is calling your name! Square beef!). You can get up and go, and that's why it's so tough to stop yourself.

On a non-running related note (I can do that, because it's my blog), Austin, Texas may be the coolest city I have ever visited. There is music everywhere, and good music to boot. Every eatery we walked or drove by looked like one I'd like to stop at. As we sat at an outdoor coffee shop listening to a jazz/bluegrass band on Sunday afternoon, I found myself wondering how a city like Austin landed in a state so incredibly different.



But it wasn't just Austin itself that was awesome. We were there to see Lauren's family. It was her granddad's 80th birthday and we celebrated at two lake front cabins about an hour outside the city. For me, it marked the first time I'd be meeting all the aunts, uncles and cousins I'd heard so much about. I have to admit, it was intimidating and at times overwhelming. But it was also really cool. I'm sorry I don't have a more eloquent word, but that's what it was. I'm already looking forward to getting to know everyone better and becoming part of their family.

Please forward my mail to the Dowd YMCA

The injured runner has two choices, both of which include a certain amount of wallowing in self-pity. He can chose to be defeated by the injury and recover with weeks of armchairs and reruns of "How I Met Your Mother", or he can chose to find creative ways to keep the injury from keeping him down. You can probably guess which one is more diffulcult.

Since beginning my cross-training regimen five weeks ago, I have been telling people that being injured takes way more dedication and willpower than being healthy. Maybe when I can run again, I'll forget all this. But, in the past month plus, I have concluded that dragging yourself to the gym for a spin class, a lap swim or an hour on the elliptical machine no matter what time of day, is exponentially harder than getting up for a 5:30am run where you know you're at least going to have the support of friends.

But oddly enough, it's the promise of the latter that keeps me trudging to the Y every day. Whether it's true or not, I tell myself that if I work really hard to maintain fitness, it will be easier to keep up with the group of runners I miss running with so much.

The Y is a quirky place. I know this because I spend anywhere from two to three hours a day there. In my hours of cardio substitutions, I have been on a bike in between two very large men, both of which were singing at the top of their lungs to songs that only they could hear. I have been in the pool alone on the snowiest, iciest day of the year, aquajogging with such intensity that I am sure the lifeguard thought I was some sort of lunatic. She may have been right. I have been adjacent to many an exerciser who is either immune to deodorant or simply chooses not to wear it. I have a reguarly attended a spin class tought by a the world's biggest Alan Parsons Project fan who kicks off each session with one of their weird progressive rock tunes.

Yesterday, I came home from a morning of cycling and swimming with a stupid idea. I would get up the next morning and do my own triathlon. I'd swim, take a spin class and aquajog. My attempts to recruit fellow indoor triathletes failed, but I charged on. A least I knew I would win. At 8:15am, I yelled *bang* and then slowly eased into the pool to begin the swim. Since this was my own triathlon, I would determine the distance. I figured a mile was sufficient, and started counting the lengths until I hit 72.

I hopped out of the pool with 15 minutes to spare before the 9am spin class. Thanks to the annual New Years Resolution rush, bike space was slim, but AJ had signed me up while I was in the pool. I attacked the bike with vengance, upping the resistance when the instructor said and not just reaching down and pretending to turn the dial as I have been known to do. I burst out of the saddle when we hit a "hill" and made sure the RPMs on the bike stayed exactly in the prescribed range. By the end of the class, I was drenched in sweat. Since the class was only 45 minutes, I kept pedaling to get in an even hour.

Transition two was me walking out of the cycle room, down the stairs to the pool locker room and changing back into my wet jammers.

The ability to aquajog is a fairly recent development. I saw a second doctor about a week ago, who painted a much prettier picture of this injury than the original physician's assistant I saw. After examing the x-rays, he added elliptical, walking and aquajogging to my repetoire. He also took me out of the boot. So, here I was at the last leg of my triathlon. Anyone who's ever aquajogged knows it's a mind-numbing activity. One has to do something to segment it. I went with a 5-4-3-2-1 x 2 interval workout. As I hit the intervals, I could feel my heart rate soaring, and despite being mostly submerged in cool water, beads of sweat were forming on my forehead.

As my stopwatch hit one hour, I jumped out of the pool feeling victorious. Obviously, there was no medal, no high-fives, and I chose not to throw my hands in the air out of fear of looking like an idiot. But I did have a big smile on my face. I wasn't happy for exercising for three hours. I've done that before and the workouts have been harder. I was celebrating the triumph of mind over matter. Each time I finish one of these workouts, which give me no adrenaline rush and are usually done with no company, I am amazed I was able to stay in it. I am not trying to brag, but to illustrate that the pull to just stay in bed, or just walk the dog and call it a workout are so strong sometimes that it takes willpower I didn't know I had to overcome it.

As for the injury, it's progressing. As I mentioned, a new doctor and CRC member took me out of the boot. He left the return to running up to me, which is a dangerous delegation. But I am trying my best to handle it like a mature athlete. With pain as my guide, I will attempt to run again on January 22nd when the crew goes up to Asheville for a 10k. All I plan to do is jog the warmup, then slip into the Y for something supplemental. Pain will be my guide. If it hurts, I'll stop. Caution is key. I will run Saturday but probably not Sunday. Monday might get two or three miles then Tuesday it's back to the pool. As eager as I am to get out there, I am eager to get out there and stay out there.

Das Boot

If you missed it on Facebook, I am hurt. Not like, sore hamstring or tight calves, but rather, fractured ankle. So, really hurt. I went to OrthoCarolina this morning, hoping the doctor would laugh at me, ask me why I was wasting her time with a silly little sprain, and tell me to go "run on home." Instead she pointed out a hairlike line on my fibula three times and fitted me for a cumbersome, uncomfortable and quite frankly ugly, air boot. Oh yeah, and she told me I wouldn't run for another 12 weeks. I think she could tell how dejected I was.

Obviously, when you walk into a room with a boot on your foot that resembles something an astronaut might wear, people ask you what happened. I can tell them that I have a stress fracture in my fibula and that is about it. I have no idea what happened. In the two months leading up to December, I was running 90-100 miles a week. Since running the Richmond Marathon on November 13, I have run a maximum of 65 and it was a gradual build up. So, how I developed the fracture is a mystery.

Oddly enough, the doctor asked me about my supenation. I have always been diagnosed as a pronator, so this came as a surprise to me. One of the first things I will do when I can run again is get my gait reanalyzed and look into changing up shoes. But that is not going to be happening anytime soon.

What can I do? Not a whole lot. I have been told not to do anything that puts weight or stress on the ankle. That eliminates cycling and the elliptical, where are my two top choices for cross-training. It does leave me the option of the pool, or as I like to call it, Aquahell. I'm not a good swimmer. Lifeguards try to save me because I look like I am drowning. Besides swimming, I can aquajog. Is there anything more boring? I will attempt to recruit some friends to spend at least some of the time treading water beside me. I can also do strength and conditioning. Of course, I don't have a lot of room to grow in the muscle department, but I can do my best to add to my already bulky physique.

I think 12 weeks is excessive. I have to use the boot for five more weeks, and then I go back for a check-up. I have never heard 12 weeks to recover for a stress fracture. I hope to be logging miles...albiet just a few...by the first two weeks of February. Until then, if you want to find me, I'll be in aquahell.

Injured Runner finds Time to Write, Rant

It started with a tiny pain on Wednesday night. I was doing my second run of the day; a four mile loop along the light rail line. I got home and my left ankle hurt just a little bit. No biggie. As I ran with the Dowd crew Thursday morning, it got just a little bit worse with every step. Four miles in, and I knew nothing good could come out of continuing to run. So, I turned around and made the long walk/jog back to the YMCA. 36 hours later, I set out for my pre-race run and didn't even make it to the end of the street. I have no idea what is wrong with me. My left ankle throbs with every step. It even hurts as I sit here. But, it's not swollen. I am going to make a doctor's appointment first thing Monday morning.

The bad news is, I had to drop out of the USA Track and Field Club Cross Country Championships which were at McAlpine on Saturday. Also, it appears there is a lot of spin classes in my future. There is nothing more mind-numbing. Although, going to spin class at 1:15 is better than sitting here watching Atlanta roll over the Panthers today.

The good news is, it's December. I was taking this month easy anyways. Aaron got to run as me at the club XC race and got himself a new PR.

Tyler let me borrow his cycle cross bike Saturday morning, so I could ride around the Thunder Road Marathon course. Congrats to everyone who ran. I don't want to list any names because I'm bound to forget one, but I do want to mention Lauren's PR performance in the half-marathon. I am really proud of her.

And that is what I want to rant about. Not Lauren. Thunder Road. Even though, I have only run the half-once, I think this has the potential to be a great event. The expo is well-done, the course is challenging and scenic at times, there are friendly volunteers and a unique theme that mixes foot racing with car racing. But it seems like the city sees it as a big burden. There is no better proof than the city's forced moving of the event from December to November. The December date was one of the things that made this race attractive to runners. It only competed with one other regional marathon and no major marathons, and was a great opportunity for people who wanted to close out their year with another 26.2. Now, it will be up against marathons like New York, Richmond and Outer Banks. The reason: Charlotte's shoppers complained about the traffic. I know people complain about traffic in every city, every time there is a race, but it is absurd to me that this city caved. We are talking about an event that pours money into the economy and brings thousands of people into an uptown area that is constantly begging people to visit. Is that not worth four hours of detours one Saturday morning in December? The race doesn't even go by any major malls.

Other cities embrace their marathons. There are always a handful of grumblers, but for the most part, it's a chance to show some city pride and welcome visitors. Obviously Boston and D.C. make a big deal out of their marathons because they are on the top of a lot of people's lists. But so do similar sized cities with similar sized races like Richmond. On race day morning, the Richmond Newspaper had a story about the marathon on the front page. The night before, the local TV stations did extensive live coverage. The day after, one station did a half-hour recap show. What kind of media coverage did Thunder Road get? It wasn't even mentioned on the front page of our paper (although Theoden's blogs were prominently posted on the website), and besides a brief interview with the race director and defending champion (on the show I produce), it only recieved brief mentions on the local news. That's really the only difference to be me between Richmond and Charlotte. The expos are about the same. The volunteers are just as friendly. There is a little more crowd support, but not much separates these two events. Unfortunately, the one major disparity is a very noticeable one.

It doesn't make sense because Charlotte is a very active community. We have a thriving running and triathalon scene. Yet, we can't support what many consider to be the holy grail of long distance running. The rest of the country is embracing marathon running. It's participation has soared 10% in just one year. Charlotte has a chance to get on board that train before it leaves the station, and we have a well-organized, top caliber event that will gladly lead the way. But until the city sees it as a boost instead of a bother, it can't possibly reach its potential.