Most people say, and I would have to agree, to not look back unless you want to go that way. Today, I broke that rule, and I think we all need to. Let me explain.
I was on the bus (yes...the bus seems to be somewhat of an inspirational place for me these days) looking out at the lake, the sun, and the ice glimmering off of the water, I began to reflect back to June, July, and August, when I was marathon training. I began to think about all of my friends who had an amazing race year last year. Some of us took on our first ultra marathon, some of us took on the race of all races--Ironman, some of us signed up for Ironman, and some of us took on marathons for the first time, and some of us took on triathlons for the first time. It was a great year. Now some of us are battling injuries, either as a result from an amazing 2009, some of them new, caused from the beginning of an early season, and we are forced to sit on the sidelines. The key word is sit. We (and I) hate to sit, hate to hear "You cannot." If you know me well enough, if you tell me not to, I will. I am one determined woman (or stubborn--call it what you will ;) ), and sometimes it's not a good trait, and I sense many of my good racing friends are just like me. Not being able to run right now due to an ankle injury is torture to me, and all I want to do is keep pushing the date up to when I can run.
When I was reflecting this morning, I suddenly remembered to remember, closed my eyes and did just that. I took myself back to the warm summer mornings when I would hit the pavement with some of my Element friends, I remembered the runs when it was just Jeremy and I--me constantly asking "what neighborhood are we in now?", I remembered the multiple 5am weekday runs Jessica Katz and I went on, and I recalled the amazing, crying-like-a-child-because-I-was-so-happy 20 miler I completed, right on my marathon goal time in August. I remember the laughs, the tears, the sweat, the joy of getting up and just going it all alone--my favorite times of running-- of just letting my mind wander for hours and hours as the power of my own body and my own will pushed me forward. I remembered the countless miles I put in for months, fighting the equally as countless excuses as to why I don't want to run, but still did.
I remembered waking up before the sun, but getting outside just when the sun was rising against the skyline and the lake and reminding myself "this is why I do this, and this is why I am so lucky." I remembered coming home from my runs, feeling this immense sense of accomplishment and pride, no matter how trashed my legs were. I remembered running through the times when I thought I couldn't go any further, and I remembered the runs when I was forced to walk, but knew that the next day was a new day. I remembered turning the last corner before the finish line of the Chicago marathon, and thinking "Oh. My. God. I did it. I am here. 26.2 miles later." And cried.
I remembered just how amazing I am.
I know many of us are still recovering, whether it's from injury or from a successful and hard season. I know it's easy to get caught up in the moment, of right now, of wondering "how am I going to reach the next goal?" Do yourself a favor. Remember. We seem to forget so easily where we have been, and what the experience has done for us, and how much we have accomplished. Take a few moments, close your eyes, and take yourself back to the days of training, of working towards your goal. Remember the journey, the sacrafices (oh there are so many...), the sweat, the time spent in your running shoes, on your bike, and in the pool, and remember how much that all paid off in the end. I know as endurance athletes we are constantly moving, constantly training for something, and constantly have a goal to work towards, causing us to lose sight of what really matters--what got us where we are, what got us to the point of being able to do any of this. Just take a moment, relax, sit (yes, I said it), and reflect, because you know what:
You are damn amazing and awesome and extraordinary.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Injury (ies) (ies)
It's been quite sometime since I have posted, and I actually have some down time, so what better way to use it than to post about injuries. Hmmppph. I recently found my happy place with marathons this past fall, however, they do not like me...yet.
Let's go back to the fall of 2009. The marathon was the ONE race I told myself I would NEVER EVER do. Having been a smoker for 10 years (and having quit 2 years and 26 days ago :) ), and I absolutely hated running, why would I want to run 26.2 miles? In 2009, I knew that I had to face the race in order to personally feel prepped for my IM in 2011 (next year...EEEEPPP!). While I won't drag you through the upper teen runs I did every week, I will tell you I absolutely fell in love with running. Getting up at 5:00am (and sometimes 4:30am) to run along the Chicago lakefront in the summer was an amazing experience, and always a great way to start my day. I was doing great...I was biking and swimming as well since I was training for the afore mentioned Chicago Tri. I think the cross training really helped keep me injury free. I was no longer cross training after the Chicago Tri, and like clock work, on September 18th, 4 weeks from the marathon, I ended up injured. Very injured.
I ended up with plantar fasciatis in my right foot, and also had patella tendonitis, achilles tendonitis, and EXTREME calf tendonitis in my left leg (It took Pierre my massage therapist--yes that is his real name--40 minutes just to soften the fascia in my calf). I received Astym 4 times (google it if you don't know what it is--I LOVE it, and it hurts SO good...), sonic therapy and massages several times, and attended PT like I was the one getting paid to attend. I was NOT missing this marathon, and I was NOT missing my 4:30 goal time. Luckily I was never told not to run, but to take it easy.
Race day came, and believe it or not, ran completely pain free...except for a nagging blister on my pinkie toe at mile 23. Ouch. And let me tell you...that built up my mental 6-pack. I ran through the pain, crossed the finish line alone, and cried tears of joy alone. The Chicago marathon was handsdown the best, most amazing race I have ever done. The crowd was heart touching and wonderful. I saw my mom at mile 25, and I couldn't have been happier to see her pom poms and her camera, and feel her hugging me at my charity tent, crying tears of joy that her "baby actually did it." I am usually a music person--I love music--when I at home, reading, etc., music touches my soul. I listened to my iPod for a total of 20 minutes during the race; otherwise I just took all of the magic in. And that's what it was. Magic. My grandma was attached to me the entire time in a photo of her and I...she is how I got through the race. I still have that pin in my house on my shelf, to remind me everyday how very much I miss her, and how I was able to put my heart and soul into something and accomplish it. I am sure this is a reminder that will be needed for my first HIM (this year) and IM.
I finished the marathon in 4:39...9 minutes slower than what I wanted. Amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better race. So I signed up for St. Louis. It takes place EXACTLY 6 months after the Chicago marathon, on April 11th 2010. To many I am crazy and an idiot. To me, I am again injured, and of course thinking I am crazy and somewhat of an idiot.
I went to the doctor last week and she told me I need to lay off of running for 1-1.5 months due to ankle tendonitis in my right foot. To anyone who is a seasoned runner, this is HORRIBLE news. I LOVE to run. It's my release after a bad day, it's my emotional escape, it's my escape from reality, it's what I do 3-4 days a week. It's what I do for 30-40 miles/week. I am currently debating on whether or not I want to carry through with the STL marathon. 3 months after STL, I have my first HIM--my longest and most awesome(est) race thus far. 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.2 mile run. Wala.
I planned on running the STL marathon in 4:15...a PR of 25 minutes. My eventual goal is to qualify for Boston. I was on track for my time, doing 2 speed workouts a week (Max threshold half-mile repeats and Yasso 800s, and long runs at race pace - 5 seconds. As soon as I took myself to the pavement for my 14 mile run on a balmy and foggy 35 degree Sunday, my ankle decided it had a enough, and I was at my PT's office again last Thursday.
I cannot help to wonder, will the injuries ever cease? Before the Chicago marathon injury, I suffered IT band syndrome before my first tri in 2007, in my left leg. I know, and I have been told, my left hip bone is higher than my right, which will cause multiple problems (and obviously is). I have spent thousands of dollars to help "fix" me, and to help condition myself for what I consider to be my hobby, my life--racing. I get upset to think I will constantly have to battle some type of injury any time I wish to run a marathon or train for long distances, but I guess I should remind myself what I do is NOT normal.
I have never ever had to back out of a race due to an injury, so the next few weeks will be crucial, emotional, and definitely difficult. However, to quote Dean Karnazes, there is a magic in the misery. Just knowing I can do it may have to be enough. Just this once.
Let's go back to the fall of 2009. The marathon was the ONE race I told myself I would NEVER EVER do. Having been a smoker for 10 years (and having quit 2 years and 26 days ago :) ), and I absolutely hated running, why would I want to run 26.2 miles? In 2009, I knew that I had to face the race in order to personally feel prepped for my IM in 2011 (next year...EEEEPPP!). While I won't drag you through the upper teen runs I did every week, I will tell you I absolutely fell in love with running. Getting up at 5:00am (and sometimes 4:30am) to run along the Chicago lakefront in the summer was an amazing experience, and always a great way to start my day. I was doing great...I was biking and swimming as well since I was training for the afore mentioned Chicago Tri. I think the cross training really helped keep me injury free. I was no longer cross training after the Chicago Tri, and like clock work, on September 18th, 4 weeks from the marathon, I ended up injured. Very injured.
I ended up with plantar fasciatis in my right foot, and also had patella tendonitis, achilles tendonitis, and EXTREME calf tendonitis in my left leg (It took Pierre my massage therapist--yes that is his real name--40 minutes just to soften the fascia in my calf). I received Astym 4 times (google it if you don't know what it is--I LOVE it, and it hurts SO good...), sonic therapy and massages several times, and attended PT like I was the one getting paid to attend. I was NOT missing this marathon, and I was NOT missing my 4:30 goal time. Luckily I was never told not to run, but to take it easy.
Race day came, and believe it or not, ran completely pain free...except for a nagging blister on my pinkie toe at mile 23. Ouch. And let me tell you...that built up my mental 6-pack. I ran through the pain, crossed the finish line alone, and cried tears of joy alone. The Chicago marathon was handsdown the best, most amazing race I have ever done. The crowd was heart touching and wonderful. I saw my mom at mile 25, and I couldn't have been happier to see her pom poms and her camera, and feel her hugging me at my charity tent, crying tears of joy that her "baby actually did it." I am usually a music person--I love music--when I at home, reading, etc., music touches my soul. I listened to my iPod for a total of 20 minutes during the race; otherwise I just took all of the magic in. And that's what it was. Magic. My grandma was attached to me the entire time in a photo of her and I...she is how I got through the race. I still have that pin in my house on my shelf, to remind me everyday how very much I miss her, and how I was able to put my heart and soul into something and accomplish it. I am sure this is a reminder that will be needed for my first HIM (this year) and IM.
I finished the marathon in 4:39...9 minutes slower than what I wanted. Amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better race. So I signed up for St. Louis. It takes place EXACTLY 6 months after the Chicago marathon, on April 11th 2010. To many I am crazy and an idiot. To me, I am again injured, and of course thinking I am crazy and somewhat of an idiot.
I went to the doctor last week and she told me I need to lay off of running for 1-1.5 months due to ankle tendonitis in my right foot. To anyone who is a seasoned runner, this is HORRIBLE news. I LOVE to run. It's my release after a bad day, it's my emotional escape, it's my escape from reality, it's what I do 3-4 days a week. It's what I do for 30-40 miles/week. I am currently debating on whether or not I want to carry through with the STL marathon. 3 months after STL, I have my first HIM--my longest and most awesome(est) race thus far. 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.2 mile run. Wala.
I planned on running the STL marathon in 4:15...a PR of 25 minutes. My eventual goal is to qualify for Boston. I was on track for my time, doing 2 speed workouts a week (Max threshold half-mile repeats and Yasso 800s, and long runs at race pace - 5 seconds. As soon as I took myself to the pavement for my 14 mile run on a balmy and foggy 35 degree Sunday, my ankle decided it had a enough, and I was at my PT's office again last Thursday.
I cannot help to wonder, will the injuries ever cease? Before the Chicago marathon injury, I suffered IT band syndrome before my first tri in 2007, in my left leg. I know, and I have been told, my left hip bone is higher than my right, which will cause multiple problems (and obviously is). I have spent thousands of dollars to help "fix" me, and to help condition myself for what I consider to be my hobby, my life--racing. I get upset to think I will constantly have to battle some type of injury any time I wish to run a marathon or train for long distances, but I guess I should remind myself what I do is NOT normal.
I have never ever had to back out of a race due to an injury, so the next few weeks will be crucial, emotional, and definitely difficult. However, to quote Dean Karnazes, there is a magic in the misery. Just knowing I can do it may have to be enough. Just this once.
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