|Injury news. Fair and |
If you push your body quickly enough, you are sure to be first in line to pick out the best cast colors. Hurry or you may end up with yellow. I did not start this post to wallow in my injuries or to seek your sympathy. Münchausen! Gazuntite! O crap, I think my overuse injuries just caught turrets.
I wanted to honestly catalog my return. And these problems with my chassis came as a surprise. I was not forewarned by the surgeon or the physical therapy folks and I found no mention of anything similar on the internet. I did a lot of abdominal work waiting for my rehabilitation process to allow a return to running. I branched into every alternative exercise short of square dancing while I waited for the green light. Did I unwittingly set up some problem areas before I resumed training? Or perhaps my 6 week couch to half marathon approach contained a small flaw. My 1500 miles per week in the car may contribute a knot or two. I imagine, just like Ragu, it's in there; the answer that is, not soybean oil.
Outline the difficulty I am having now, look back and appreciate the distance traveled later. I would like to share a few of the tools I have found to make this transition easier. I don't advance my religious views on the internet. I don't politic on the world wide web. I don't sell boy scout popcorn or candy bars for a high school band in the cloud. (By the way why not click on an add in the upper right when you are done reading this?) But in spite of my well established record of providing only frivolity and hijinx on this site, I now break my streak with an endorsement. If you have muscles and/or tendons I recommend that you purchase The Trigger Point Therapy Workbook: Your Self-Treatment Guide for Pain Relief, Second Edition. I have pushed this book on my friends (those who have muscles and/or tendons) like Tutanchamon pushed a pyramid scheme. I have surprised relatives hopeful for Christmas ties or birthday socks with a copy of this book. Buy this book, buy a Thera cane, steal a foam roller, and kidnap a good massage therapist. Make sure you vet the therapist through your spouse. Don't find one directly off of an interstate exit. Avoid recommendations from spas that use a moniker involving the word lucky.
In the two months since my last post, I established a delicate balance between over training and injury. I spend equal amounts of time practicing both. The repaired tendon has held up remarkably well. The rest of the body, not so much.
|NY navigational system.|
Enter the chiropractic. Staker Chiropractic Center was able to shore up the NY damage. It felt as if everything was falling apart when I ran, because everything was falling apart when I ran. The city sidewalks were a bit harder than my usual dirt trails. After diagnosing a leg length discrepancy just shy of an inch, the bone cruncher managed to pop my Sacroiliac joint back into place after 3 visits. Instant relief. I wasted no time feeling good and made a hasty return to long running on the trails. I was able to limp through one lap of der Scott's crazy 8 tour. I lost him early, but managed to follow Jay's dust trail back to the group after he took a wrong turn and looped back. Its a bit disheartening to loose both speed and endurance, but I really enjoyed the company of some familiar faces and the delicious taste of Hammer Perpetuem chalk. And Iris raised the bar on running fashion, sporting a Christmas sweater tech shirt, complete with reindeer.
|I found the sandwich boar too heavy.|
Pic stolen from Bart Bechard.
Because of my slow healing ankle and overall daily balance challenges, I promised to stay on the bridal paths. So after a brief stint in the parking lot timing how long Jay could stand around in shorts in sub-30 degrees, we unanimously decided to take the single track trail hurlgolly (name changed to make it mathematically impossible to tell which park we were in) into the park. Questioning the wisdom of our decision, Scott fell superman style face first within 50 feet. Luckily, I had chickened out and left my diabetic friendly Michalob Ultra at the gate. It surely would have gone all over bubbly with Scott's jostling. Besides if caught, I only had enough bribe money for trespassing. Among the four of us, we had 3 head lamps and a full moon, but barring Scott's early balance issue, our only close calls were a water crossing and a troll sighting near one of the bridges. We killed the headlamps and let our eyes adjust to the low moonlight once we hit the bridal paths. Cat-like I only ran off the trail twice. The quicksters outpaced us for the last time on South pigeon trail (name changed to make it alphabetically impossible to tell which park we were in), after we debunked the Mayan calendar and confirmed our continued existence in the physical plane. This calender debacle calls the entire Mayan office suite into question. I know their power point is for crap.
|Broadway style tap dancing, as illustrated by Slippers the water nymph.|
Unconcerned about recovery due to my promised immediate demise, I might have pushed the mileage a bit too far. The night run agitated my músculo iliopsoas and my hypochondria. So I shall continue to roll, massage, limp, complain and stretch my way back to mobility. My new reasonable and balanced approach to longer distance is to gently stress, wait for complete recovery and then gently stress again. I shall begin immediately; as soon as I get back to 30 mile long runs. I have Uhwarrie 20 in five weeks and Umstead marathon in nine. Both of my race goals are survival. Last year Uhwarrie was the final insult to my torn tendon. Since that 20 miler, I have not run over 14. I want to get back on the horse. In particular that horse. That rocky, unrunnable, ankle biting Uhwarrie horse. 4 weeks later Umstead, mainly for the pint glass. I opted for the earliest surgery available in April of 2012 to give me the best chance for a full marathon return at Umstead. Its going to be close. Its so good to be out there again, and I am attaining common sense one malady at a time. Run for pleasure, elliptical for punishment.