The Laced Up Confessionals Part Eleven

I looked out the window today at the trees and could see from my vantage point that the boughs of some were swaying, and they almost seemed to be tickling the dark grey clouds.  I knew that with conditions like this, it was going to be a lively run.  Smiling I began to get my gear together and lace up.  By the time I was finished and looked out the window again, I was confronted with a downpour that had drops bouncing back up off of the road, and rivulets flowing down the hill. 

Perfect!  The last time I had run in the rain was way back in the end of May when I was in a running clinic and we were running along one of the main arteries in the city.  It was a hot day so it hadn’t mattered that I was getting drenched.  We had lots of fun as we slogged along, shoes squishing out their protest.  Today was going to be another of those days, one where people look at those of us on the streets and think that we are mad running in such weather.  But perhaps that is only because they have forgotten what it felt like when they were children dressed in their raincoats and boots, jumping in puddles and listening to the music the drops made on their hoods or umbrellas.  They have forgotten that juicy joy which comes from taking part in the simple things life gives to all of us.

I set out and I wonder if the glee of such a delicious moment is apparent on my face?  The cold drops have soaked me only slightly slower than a regular bathing shower.  Immediately the brim of my running hat is dripping and I am glad that it will be keeping the huge kisses of the clouds at bay, lest my contact lenses be sailing down the road a top the small rivers that steal pine needles and small stones with their current.

I am up the hill before I know it.  I wonder at how I got up it so fast, is it because I was focused on the drops and the wind littering golden leaves upon me, or perhaps because I am concentrating on being seen by the drivers more than ever today?  No longer focused on the heat and the little pains that sometimes plague me I am full of present and now.  I appreciate that which is before me and I am grateful for my health that allows me to get out and see and experience this. 

I pass the skate park where usually there are teens performing feats with both skateboards and bikes, that make the laws of gravity look like a child’s toy, and one that these wheeled wonders seem to have left in the confines of the crib’s they had grown out of long ago.  It is empty, slick and grey.  It looks lonesome and somehow lovesick for those young mavericks, who usually caress with sweat, skin and soles. 

Carrying on down to the half way point, I enjoy how alone I am on this trip.  It’s only myself and the steel shells of people coming from work who brave the streets, and every so often I am rewarded with a fresh splash of a puddle as one zips by.  Somehow it makes the whole experience all the more magical and meditative.  I have left my MP3 player at home, and I am totally immersed in experiencing the all of these moments. 

I focus on the hiss of the wet tires as they pass, I watch and run through rain chains dripping from the telephone wires above.  I listen and feel the slap flapping of my black running pants on my calves, the squelching of my shoes as every step is taken and spent, and the feel of my socks as the water makes them suction onto my toes.  (Which by the way is what I imagine vacuum packed sausages would be apt to feel, if they were capable.)  I know my cheeks are rosy, and probably match my raspberry colored top, which is a great color against the green and yellow of the background landscape.  I will, and have been seen.  I will need brighter colors come winter.

I finish up at the bottom of the hill and I am again grateful that the grip of my shoes didn’t let loose on the slick gravel and toss me on my behind.  No doubt an accident like that would leave me picking gravel out of road rash for weeks afterwards.  I had a coach once who did that very thing, although she was trail running at the time.  Came down a hill and tripped hit her cheek on a rock and the rest of the side of her face took gravel in depth.  A frightening bruise showed in the weeks afterwards, and since seeing and hearing her story, I am always reserved when it comes to steep hills.

I wrap it up at the crosswalk that marks the finish and think to myself that I am happy that I didn’t listen to the lazy girl that arises in me sometimes when facing the elements.  Even though I feel lazy at the start sometimes, I know that if I kick myself outside to just do it, I am always returning with a grin.

I survived the first of the rains that are part of living in rainforest area.  I know that this season will have much more in store as time moves on.  I am excited to see what emotions Fall will reveal.

 

The Laced Up Confessionals Part Ten

Here we are in mid September and the first rains are beginning to fall, marking the end of our wonderful Indian summer and cooling the temperatures.  As a runner I am happy for the change.  It is amazing what a difference a couple of degrees can make in performance and how comfortable you are on a run. 

I live on the west coast of Vancouver Island, and most times on my run I am apt to see different kinds of wildlife on my way about my route.  The most common being deer, rabbits, eagle and vultures, I have even seen a bobcat one time. (What a rare treat!)  So when I think about my last run it shouldn’t be any kind of a surprise I suppose.

I was on the start of my run up the hill.  It is a long one, about half a kilometer at a forty-five degree angle, and I was about three fourths of the way up it when to my right I noticed a commotion going on up by the freeway.  An elderly woman was at the side of the road doubled over beside her car and there were people surrounding her.  I was trying to figure out what was going on and at the same time not run out into traffic, when I saw what had been the cause of the strife.  A young female deer was lying in the grass not far from the woman and her car.  Unfortunately it was a common sight along the city roads.  I was glad it was lying still and no longer breathing, because there are times when reality is not so kind, leaving the animal and the driver to suffer.  I hate seeing such things, clashes between nature and our encroachment upon it, but these days I am also surprised that there is not more of it.  I saw that the others had the situation under control and ran on, thinking about mortality, our fragility, and the meaning of such things.

On the way back I passed an area where there are many rabbits inhabiting an area off to the side of the road.  There must be forty to fifty rabbits amongst the briar and little forested area.  People come and drop off apples, grass clippings and other yard waste for them to eat.  Some people bring their children to feed them carrots.  This is probably why the population has rocketed out of control.  Or perhaps it is just because being rabbits, fertile is what they do best.  Some of these rabbits are huge, the size of small dogs really, and I love seeing them on my run.  A large grey one caught my eye on runs, it had white feet a white tail and I enjoy seeing its nose wriggle while it sat ridged trying to judge whether I was a threat. 

I saw the rabbits on the side of the road first.  There were about twelve of them all huddled close, looking at something on or across the road.  I was too far away to see.  As I got closer I saw what they were looking at.  My grey bunny lay in the middle of the right lane of the road.  Its front and back paws were straight across the road and made it look like it was in mid leap across the road when it had been struck.  There was no blood, and if you were to glance at the animal and overlook the horrid stillness, you would have thought it was just down for a nap. 

My eyes began to water.  I couldn’t tell what had upset me more, the sight of my favorite rabbit lying still, or the sight of the other rabbits looking over at it.  I wondered at their extent of comprehension of such things.  Elephants understood death, even came back after years and mourned those that had passed before them.  Could these bunnies, some so small and recent, understand even a sliver of what had happened?  It must have had some sort of impact on them or why would they be huddled together looking at the dead rabbit and not moving?  Even when I came up on the scene they didn’t scatter.  I thought of the book I had read in my youth The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams, and a shiver went down my spine. 

I continued my run, pondering the death along it.  Was it the change in weather that helped end these two lives today?  I know that all things must have an end at one time or another and it would happen when we least expect it just like the rabbit and deer had experienced.  But even though it is a shared experience, a penance for life, it didn’t seem to make things easier.  A thought provoking run for sure.

Wish Fishing

Soup is on the go
laundry is swishin'
time to vacuume
then it's dish fishin'


Hang the clothes
on the line
then later
if I have time


I'll get out in the sun
to run paved ribbons
with grateful smile
for all things given

Stress Reducing Gut Buster

When I have those days where deadlines are looming, family is pulling me in different directions, hot water tanks have given up the gusto, or things in general are not going my way, I find that nothing cures what ails me like a stress busting run. 

I wasn’t always a runner.  Before my days of lacing up and hitting the asphalt, I was apt to taking my frustrations out on a bag of chips or pretzels, trying to crunch and munch my way through my throes of woes.  As if I was able to somehow chew my way out of the conundrum presented, if only I found the right food to feed it. However all that the snacking succeeded in doing was increasing my waist size and it did nothing to clear my head, or smooth my furrows of worry.

I first turned to walking, figuring that just getting out into nature and meditating in the sunshine would blow through the fog in my head, giving me the break time from my problems that I so desperately sought.  It worked.  Not that the problems went away, mind you, but I was able to put things into perspective and it turned out that these times alone were great for the reduction of stress too. If I went out regularly, I found that my head was clearer than if I missed a day.  

I gradually progressed to running by joining a running clinic, and this put me into a deeper meditative state then walking did.  I became more focused during the day and able to complete tasks at hand faster.  Things that had worried me before no longer cross my mind and I have a more positive outlook over all.  When I am out on a long run I can mull over problem scenarios in my mind, and come up with the best possible solutions, then come home and soak sore muscles in a hot bath.  Or I can go out with a friend on a run and just forget about everything for a while, which works wonders too. 

Another unexpected benefit I have gained from running is the fact that my health is better.  Running boosts your immune system, and I have reaped the rewards of less colds and flus throughout the year.  Even in the winter when I am running in cold torrential rain or snowy conditions, my body seems to reject the usual viruses.

I have even given up smoking for my new found love of this sport.  I didn’t have to.  I ran for eight months while smoking before I decided it was time to give up the habit.  I was curious about how I much I could improve my performance and how my energy would improve if I gave up the tobacco that had been part of my life since my teenage years.  I won’t say it was easy because it wasn’t.  I will say that if I hadn’t had running to fall back on during that time I probably would not have stuck to it like I have. 

Embracing running in my life has reduced my stress load, improved my health, but best of all it has reduced my dress size and increased my confidence and what can be better than that?

The Laced Up Confessionals Part Eight

At the end of every running clinic there is a goal run.  It gives us something to work towards and for me it helps me to stay on track and keep focused.  It gives me strength to quell the excuses as they arise and it makes me stay accountable to the trails and to my weekly regimen. 

This clinic was no exception.  The race was down Island in beautiful Chemanius B.C.  I love any time I can spend in this coastal town, with its murals on the sides of buildings and quaint shops and galleries.  It is a great stop at the best of times for tourists, but when paired with a great 5KM fun run and the wonderful people involved it becomes even more fetching. 

The four of us piled into the car and car-pooled down.  One of the wonderful women in our group headed down earlier to pick up the running packages.  Most times the running package will consist of a running bib, (The tag with the numbers worn on the chests of runners for identification.)  and Safety pins to attach it with.  A shirt too if there is one and you requested one, but this time there was something more.  Every runner in this race had the option of purchasing a shirt; most times they are regular cotton t-shirts with the name and location of the race and the sponsors involved.  This time however the woman’s shirts were of a better quality and of a more “yoga” style.  I was thrilled when I looked at mine, it was a pink coral color and the logo of the race on the back of it was well done. 

This was not my first race or competition run.  It was actually my forth.  I had run two in the winter, the New Year’s Resolution Race which occurs on New Year’s Day (This race is one of my favorites because it always has a great colored pullover for it.), and the Santa’s Shuffle (shirt).  Then there was the “Run for the Mountain” which is a race to save the city side of a local mountain from being clear cut; thus saving the beauty of the trees and more importantly the habitats of many animals.

It feels great to be out there with a bunch of runners with the same goal but it is even better when you are running for a great cause and bringing awareness with you.

On Tuesday’s race day I was worried because during the whole day there had been pregnant storm clouds squeezing out their tears.  I didn’t want to run in the rain if I could help it, but I would take the cooler weather and the rain over the heat of summer any time!

When it was time I laced up and headed out the door to the prearranged spot where we were meeting to head down.  We opened our packages with the bibs, shirts and information, but there was a surprise for us too.  None of us had run a race with the electronic foot tags.  These were long plastic orange strips with electronic chips on the back of them that would track us as we went through the route and got over the finish again.  I had only seen these in the bigger races such as marathons, and the presence of the tags made this race seem more serious and important.

We arrived and found where we were supposed to start and took the time to check out our fellow runners while music played in the park for the event.  There were runners from all ages, sizes, and walks of life; tall lean sprinters doing practice speed laps to warm up, others were stretching and conversing with friends, novices were mixed in with the pro’s and it didn’t seem to matter.  Some were decked out in the latest gear and others were just in t-shirts and shorts to have fun.  It was great to be mixed in with such a variety of runners from all over the island. 

Then it was time to gather at the start area of the route.  I knew from experience in the other races that I had to watch my speed at the start.  It was so easy to get caught up in the moment and exhaust yourself by heading out to fast.  This time I put myself in the middle of the pack, making sure I was behind all the sprinters.  It can be so demoralizing to be in the front lines with the top runners and have them leave you in the dust!  I think it is better to start out in the back and pass some people then have most of them pass me.

It wasn’t long and we were off in a surge of bodies.  The route went through town and then wound over a dirt gravel road and around again.  All of us in my group didn’t like the gravel part of the track, it slowed us down and I personally felt as though I was doing a Bambi impression when he was on the ice, like at any moment my ankle would go over or I would be doing the splits down in the dirt.

The track looped back on itself so I could see the faster runners as they completed the loop and passed me in the other direction.  The fast sprinters looked like gazelles, bounding effortlessly over the ground.  Again I was struck by the diversity of the group, but there was a common thread throughout us all; we had sweat on our brow and smiles on our lips.

I finished the race ahead of my goal, and it was great to hear the crowd cheering for us as we came in.  There were awards in the ending ceremony for the fastest in each age group for men and women and then some fabulous door prizes too.  Then there were the treat tents to visit and more socializing afterwards.  The girls and I had a great time, and even though this clinic is finished we are committing to the next one which is starting on July 11^th, 2011.  Until then we are still going to run together in different places in the city.  I look forward to the time with the girls, the new tracks and forging evermore friendships.

The Laced Up Confessionals Part Seven

So the other day’s topic of discussion was Fartlek speed bursts.  The first time I heard the term “Fartlek” in a clinic I almost burst out laughing, (sounds like Fart Lick) and all I could think about was some poor guy with this last name going through life. 

In reality though Fartlek is a Swedish term that means “speed play”, it is a form of interval speed training for runners. 

When Fartlek training a runner will run hard for bursts of 30 seconds to a minute and then double the amount of cool down time at an easy pace.  This is repeated for a set of ten and can vary in length due to the runners needs.  You can use them on all different types of terrain or in hill training.  If a runner incorporates these into their weekly regimen they are sure to see a reduction in their race times.

Other ways of increasing speed are shortening your strides and quickening them up. When I want to do this I imagine that I am on hot asphalt in bare feet, and that always gets me moving at a quicker pace. 

Tempo runs are another great way to get some new speed out of routine runs.  These are interval runs like the Fartleks, but they are for longer periods of time, and not as fast.  Instead of running at top speed, you would just bring it up a notch or two, and hold them for longer periods of two to three minutes then recover and repeat.

You won’t achieve great speed by only training for strength.  Speed is not determined by just how strong your muscles are but also by how they react.  What you fuel up with, how you cross-train and if you have skipped any workouts will become a factor as well.  Jump rope, skipping skills and box jumping are good drills to work on, if your knees can bear it try running up steps, or running steeper grade hills.

The best way to bring your endurance up is to be consistent, be patient, build up slowly and above all listen to your body.  Don’t try to do too much too fast, that is only a recipe for future injury or the best way to become dissatisfied with your performance and perhaps with running in general.  Increase one of your runs to a longer run then the other two for the week, so you have an easy day, one a little longer and perhaps with some hill training, then a slower longer run for the third in the week.  Try mixing them up and listening to how your body feels and responds to the runs, if you are getting side stitches you are going too fast and your body is not able to respond or recuperate fast enough.  LISTEN to what it is saying slow down a bit and see if you can run through it, stretch away from the stitch to lengthen your diaphragm, if this doesn’t work after a couple moments take a minute to walk it out before starting your pace again. 

Stay strong, healthy but most of all have fun, it is the best way to keep your soles on the blacktop.

The Laced Up Confessionals Part Six

No two injuries are ever the same.  ~~ Anonymous runner

You might be thinking that running or walking long distances might be a fun thing to do, but you have sustained some sort of injury over the course of your days that makes you wonder if some of your body parts would be up to the challenge, the biggest culprit being the knees.

I too have gone through such thoughts.  My knees have become quite banged up and bruised over the years, but the biggest injury came in the year 2000 when I was living in Calgary. 

I had been living in the city for a couple of years by this point and coming from the west coast of Canada I was no novice to driving in the snow.  I was however new to the blizzard conditions that would blow in and dump massive amounts of snow.

On one particular night we left work early because of one of these said storms.  Instead of following my regular route, a co-worker schooled me on a better way to get to my side of the city.  Why I would follow his advice when it would be a wiser choice to stick to my familiar route in such bad weather, is a question I still ask myself today. 

For whatever reason I took his advice and listened to the echoes of his directions in my mind while ticking off the left and right turns on streets whose names were quickly becoming buried in white flakes.

I surprised myself when I was almost home and on familiar territory once again; I had not become lost, my car was still on the road while others littered the sides, and I had avoided the freeway.  Only ten more minutes and I would be warm and cozy and I could forget about the -29 temperature outside.

Five minutes away from home I began to relax my white knuckle grip on the steering wheel, my confidence returning, but let it be said here and now that I never let my guard down.

I approached the last intersection on my trip, and as I am about half a kilometer away from it and the light is green for all cars going my way, so I don’t tap the brakes at all.

I watched in complete horror as a black sports car in the oncoming left hand turning lane starts to move into the intersection.  “No!” I breathe incredulous to how this person could think that they would have enough time to cross my path and make it to the other side of the intersection before I came through. 

This is where things start to slow down visually for me, yet in my mind my thoughts begin to take on a rapid fire machine gun like quality and somehow they seem louder as they fight for control. 

I first try to pump the brakes to slow the impact.  I can’t stop it, that would take an act of God at this point, but I did slow it some.  While I was managing that I was cursing this person I didn’t know for their sheer stupidity.  Then when I saw the other car spinning its wheels as the driver became aware the inevitable, the curses turned to a brief anger at the unfairness of it all.  I wanted my warm apartment, not a hospital bed that it looked like I was in for if I was lucky.

I remember saying, “Oh shit, this is going to hurt.” as my acceptance of the situation settled in.  Then at about 68 kilometers per hour, I t-boned the black sports car.  I spun around in the intersection 3 times and crashed again into a Mercedes Benz and a cab.

Things after that were shards of time for me.  I seemed to be in and out of things.  Not totally unconscious but not completely there all the time either.  Suddenly I was aware of a man behind me in my car holding my head and on the phone telling what I supposed were the paramedics where we were.  Then he was on the phone again telling someone he was at ground zero and would be late.  Ground zero?  Who used lingo like that?  And how did he get into my car?  I began to fear I had really rattled my brain.  I could feel something warm running down my leg, I could hardly breathe and I was shivering violently.

“I am so cold.” I told him, this stranger in my car with his hands about my neck.  I wondered if he was a soldier or a cop, who else would say ground zero? 

“I know Hon, they are on their way, just sit tight.  Is there anyone you want to call?”  I gave him my home number and he informed my partner about what had happened and what hospital I would probably be transferred to.  In the distance I could hear sirens.  The biting cold was like needles jabbing into me with no remorse.  I tried to focus on the man behind me and the puzzle of who he could be for a distraction.  I no longer thought he was a soldier, I didn’t think Hon was in a soldier’s vocabulary, and it would be a bit of a stretch for a cop too.

“Is the other driver ok?” I asked.

“I think so.”  Came his reply, “There are people with that driver now.”

“I’m sorry about your car.”  I said.

“Luckily you didn’t hit me, but you did a number on someone’s Mercedes, the other one was a cab, everyone looks ok there too.”

I was relieved, but I continued to shiver and those siren cowboys could not come quickly enough!

“What is taking them so long?” I asked.

“They have to weave through the backed up traffic the accident caused.”  He answered.  What a political answer I thought.  He didn’t say the accident you caused, which led me to believe he was married and knew something about women and how they react, or he understood the impact of his words in general and was in some sort of a management position.  Either way he was becoming more of an enigma as the moments passed. 

Finally the flashing lights of the medic wagon drew near, and I was never happier to see them.  Those lights meant I could get out of this freezing steel mash that had a vague resemblance to a vehicle, and perhaps I would not lose my fingers and toes to frostbite.  I just prayed it would not be my ex-boyfriend who would be tending to me, because just like injuries, no two break-ups are the same.  I would definitely be feeling the sting if any needles were needed.

When they came to take over the situation, the man in the back told them what happened and how I was doing, then he was going to leave and become a shadow in the blizzard, but I called him back while the medics assessed my injuries. 

“I need to know why you said ground zero before.”  He was a handsome man with glasses and a goatee.

“Oh that,” he smiled, “I am a reporter with the Calgary Herald, guess you could call it geek speak.”  Then he tossed me a little wave and turned to the cop who wanted to question him.

Well that mystery is solved I thought as the medics and firemen put a brace about my neck and put me on a backboard as gently as they could.  I tried not to shriek in pain, but I was sure they had heard it all before.  It was uncomfortable at first but after a couple minutes it was excruciating.  The hardness of the board bit into the back of my skull, but just on one point where the two made contact, so it was like a pressure point of pain.  I have since only experienced one thing worse, which was labor for thirty one hours, but that in itself is another story.

Once they got me rigged into the back of the ambulance we head out with sirens blazing.  I am not impressed as this does nothing for my headache, but I am too happy about getting some warmth and the pain in my knee is quickly becoming more of a concern. 

“What is wrong with my knee?” I ask the guy beside me.  I feel rude not looking in his eyes while asking, but I am strapped to the board and the choice is taken from me. 

He puts down the chart he is writing in, “Right or left?” he asks.

“Right.”

He cuts up my pant leg with a pair of blunt bent scissors and I grimace because I can’t remember if I shaved my legs the night before. 

“Which side was the ignition on in your car?”  He asks.

I had to think about it a second, “On the same side.  Why?”

“I think your keys punctured your knee.”  He told me, “I would bet money on it.”

Immediately I know I am going to have to lay up the running shoes for a while.  I wondered how bad it was really going to be at the end of it all.  After we got to the hospital and the various tests and x-rays were seen to and analyzed, they finally un-strapped me from the board and I found that I no longer had any feeling in the back of my skull.   

Good news though, only soft tissue damage throughout my neck, back and knee and after some stitches and being fixed up with some crutches I am released. 

It took over seven months of physiotherapy and medical procedures to get my knee, which after the accident was the size of a small cantaloupe, to regain its normal size again and for me to walk without a limp.  It was much longer to regain the freedom of lacing up regularly without the knee swelling again, and that is something I still have to be careful of today when I rise from a crouched position. 

I am so grateful to be out there on the roads still plugging away and logging more kilometers under my soles.  Perhaps next time I will tell you what happened to my other knee.  After all no two injuries are ever the same but some can be quite funny.

The Laced Up Confessionals Part Five

Monday started off like so many others in the past 3 months, fat drops of rain racing each other to annihilation upon the face of the earth.  Some hitting so hard that it made it look like it was raining skywards.  Warm mugs of coffee couldn’t chase away the yawns that percolated through my day, nor could they cure a chill that had me donning layer after layer of cotton and wishing I had fur. 

I picked up the local paper only to be informed that we had now crossed over into days of water restrictions.  I smirked at the irony of it all.  Wondering why such a concept would be needed in the rainy season of rainforest country.

Run time came closer and the rain refused to release its squeeze on the big pouty clouds.  I envisioned some of the drops making sure others were on their way down before making their own kamikaze dive through the cold air. 

On the drive through town I wondered how many would show.  I knew I would not be alone in my efforts because it was a clinic night which meant a talk on a certain subject or a guest speaker, and these seemed to draw a larger crowd no matter what the weather.

Tonight’s topic was Safety.  What to wear to be seen by traffic, which places were better to run then others and why.  What to do when running alone, and lots of advice to run in pairs or packs,  especially around one of our most picturesque lakes which also doubles as the running Mecca of the city.  The instructors warned us that the resident male flasher was still at work.  Although this man had been caught and charged several times for his outdoorsy breeches of etiquette, he continues to return to the same place as before, business as usual.  Apparently not much more can be done about this man and his mental illness until he ups the level of his actions.  This of course upset most of the runners in the clinic, but I’ve known about this guy for a year and a half and have yet to see his antics.  I am not a regular of the lake though and perhaps this is why.

Still, we as runners have to know that there is risk out there.  There are cars, bikes, skateboarders, roller-bladers, dogs, doggie doo-doo, and people to dodge and there are the elements and injuries to be dealt with. 

Even so, steps can be taken to reduce conflicts where they arise, making enjoyable and worthwhile.

So lace up, and join the throng of walkers and runners in your area.  Whether for fitness or the social aspects of the activity, you will be so glad you did!

The Laced Up Confessionals Part Four

On Monday, our running clinic had a guest speaker; a physiotherapist and chiropractor who works for a sports clinic.  This is the same clinic I went to last year, (but not the same doctor) for my hip problems. 

I think they are amazing people that work there because they are athletes which means they understand about training schedules and they will try to keep you out on the trail running rather than on the couch putting your feet up whenever possible.  To a runner this is great news, because any time on the couch means loss of muscle mass and lost time out there training for upcoming runs, which in turn can mean slower race times and missed races all together.

The doctor I saw last year was one of the few who went to Vancouver to help out with the athletes that came for the Olympics.  So I knew I was in great hands.  The doctor who worked on me was young and good looking and there was a joke amongst the women in the group that we should call him “Abe the babe”, seeing as he wanted to be called by his first name rather than his position title.

So back to Monday night.  This guy, like the previous doctor before him, was young and good looking as well and he was a long distance runner having a number of Marathons under his belt.  He started out telling us about the benefits of icing after a run and how the worst thing you can do is immerse yourself in a hot bath afterwards because it causes inflammation of any injuries and will cause more pain then wanted.  Ice, he said, is an athlete’s best friend.  Then it was on to information about stretching, the pros and cons and when they should be performed.  There is controversy in the running world about whether they should be done at all.  But the good looking doctor boys think that is a good thing to do IF you do it after a run and not before.  This they say is because the muscles are like rubber bands and you want to stretch a warm muscle not snap a cold one.  He went on to demonstrate some stretches and pre-run moves to warm up before we head out.  He had some great ones for shin splints that I found useful

When his half an hour was up our coach took over and we all bundled up and headed out into the parking lot to try out his new moves.  (I never knew that some men have such grace while skipping, and then there were others who nearly killed themselves in the attempt!)   I am sure we looked hilarious out there flinging our legs this way and that and then to and fro to get our glutes tight.  Then with most of us laughing at our attempts to reproduce the doctor’s orders, we headed out for the run start.

I found my running partner and noticed that she was limping a bit.  I asked her what was wrong and she told me that when she did one of the moves she felt some sharp pains going from above her buttock down the back of her leg.  I immediately thought that it sounded like a sciatica problem, I asked her if she still wanted to continue and like a trooper she replied yes, thinking that it might make it settle down with use.  I told her that we should take it easy and not to push things and that if it got worse along the way we could walk it instead of run, and by the end she seemed better.  So we parted ways, re-enforcing our plans to meet up for Wednesday at 6pm.

So Wednesday comes along and I am having one of those low energy days, it is cloudy and rainy outside and at 2:30pm I am thinking it would be a really great idea to take a nap, especially if I have to go for a run later.  So I cuddle up and I am off to dreamland lickety split.  I wake up two hours later with a doze induced hangover. 

I am snug beneath the blankets and thinking about how it’s a run night and I had better get my rear in gear if I am going to get to my pre-arranged run meeting with my run partner.  I am cursing the fact that I didn’t get her phone number to cancel, then I think it is a really good idea that I don’t have her number so I can’t cancel our run date.  But never the less my brain and body are fighting against my will.  In loud shrill voices they are crying out to me to stop the insanity that I should do anything but lace up and meet up with my running partner in the cold wind.  I should just roll over and continue my hibernating journey.  I should just give in to all the pleasure that the warm bed provides.

Eventually it is the thought of my promise to be there that finally rouses me from under the comforter, because I have given my word and if a woman doesn’t have her word, then ultimately what does she have?

So I get out of the warm cocoon I am so fond of, change into hot pink microfiber, lace up my shoes, don my reflective gear, hat and keys and I am on my way. 

As I am driving through town with the grey skies and rain coming down I am thinking –no praying—that she shows up for the run, on days like this it is much better to have someone to share in the misery.

I get to the store where the clinics are held and I see that there are not many runners tonight.  There is also no sign of my running partner, but I am still early and being so I am also still hopeful that she will show.  I browse the shop for the latest shoes and electrolyte jelly beans and then I spy her coming in through the front door.  But there is a catch, she is limping.  Turns out that stretching session really did her in and for the past two days she has been in some serious pain so she said that should would forgo the run tonight and only came down to let me know of her situation.  I was floored that she would come all the way across town to do so.  Not many people would have.  Her likability went up tenfold.

I thanked her and told her that I thought she should go and see “Abe the Babe” right away.  I said that if she told him how much pain she was in I was sure he would see her right away, and might even stay late for her, it is just the way he is.  I told her I couldn’t promise that the process wouldn’t be painful, because it probably would be, but I also said that the process would help her out in the long run, (Pardon the pun) and that the sciatica problem she has had trouble with all her life might even disappear.  She promised she would give him a call and wished me luck on my run.

I headed out with the others in the rain and greyness, wishing I had taken my MP3 player to combat the howling wind. 

**Footnote**

~Why do all fitness Guru’s think it is a good idea to make new runners run past fast food and local restaurants?  On my way out and back I have to go past Dairy Queen and smell their burgers!  I want to know why an ice cream giant such as themselves have not come up with a fat free frozen yogurt blizzard.   Someone is definitely slow on the uptake!

The Laced Up Confessionals Part Three

Excuses.  When it’s time to lace up I have a million of them looking up at me like eager dogs; tails wagging and tongues lolling.  Each of them competing loudly in my head telling me why I should listen to them and not that “wimpy” lone will power.

What is a runner to do?  Some runners go to sleep in their running attire and then run as soon as they wake.  Attempting to trick the dozy dogs into submission.  I am not that disciplined.  I fight back with thoughts of how good I will feel once the run is over, then there are skinny denim promises and other progressive treats when I hit my goals.  I post these on the fridge, the back of my bedroom door, the bathroom mirror and anywhere else I am likely to see them and get a positive charge from them.  Running affirmations if you will.

Is this self-brain washing?  Damn straight!  Anyone who has undertaken such a mammoth task knows that every little tidbit you can use to fight against your body and mind wrestling with you to stop this ridiculous and foolish journey knows it is worth it.  Your mind, your body will be doing everything in its power to push back.  It will try to goad you into arguments about how bad the weather is, why you should stay in the nice warm house cuddled in your housecoat.  It will inflame joints, fire up sore muscles.  If you don’t pay attention, it will face a little friction with glee and give you blistered feet for your troubles.  Anything to make you slowdown, stop, or better yet give up on it all together.  

In the beginning I know I need help.  I am a human after all and what are we humans good at?  I mean really good at?  Laziness.  I would love to listen to my mind and just curl up in front of my laptop and read my friends latest postings, rather then gear up and face the horizontal rain!  I would like to tell you that I am some stoic runner who never misses a beat when the scheduled run shows itself and I have a smile on my face while doing it.  That is just not the case.  I grunt, I growl and I talk to my demons, mostly to tell them to shut up.  Why?  Because these first few weeks are the most important; they make or break a person.

I know this; I have been through this before.  I learnt as I went along my first couple of clinics.  I know my strengths and weaknesses.  I know I have to be signed into a clinic, that if I am held accountable for something I am more likely to do it.  If I know my running partner is waiting for me and will be disappointed by my not showing I am more likely to get out there.  I am more responsible to a complete stranger then to myself.  Why?  Because I have given my word, because I have traded tender for the experience, and because I know all those other people are putting themselves in the same amount of pain that I am.  If they can do it, I can do it.  There is strength in numbers, just like there is strength in my writing about the experience.  It just re-enforces my commitment.  So thanks for reading, because your comments are just one more thing helping me lace up and get out there on the asphalt. 

The Laced Up Confessionals: Monday April 4th, 2011~~Part Two

As I was driving to the place where I would meet my new running group I had a lot going through my mind.  I remembered back to my first running clinic ever and the fears I encountered on the same drive I was making now.  Would I know anyone there?  Would I be tossed in with a crowd of muscle bound endorphin junkies all decked out in the latest running threads?   Would I be the most out of shape person there?  But most of all my biggest fear was being the slowest person in the group. 

Now, as I drive on to my third trip around these clinics, I know that it doesn’t matter if I know anyone or not, running is a sport done mostly alone.  Oh sure you can run with a group, or one or two others who are going the same pace as you, but that will, that determination to go back, and to keep going back despite the pain, that is yours to claim alone. 

Not all of these determined souls running alongside me will be decked out in the latest apparel, but let it be known that all runners are endorphin junkies, and if they tell you different, they are either lying to themselves or to you.  There has to be a kickback, otherwise we wouldn’t do it.  Believe me, the warmth of my rocking chair and the excuses screaming in my head, are enough to make me turn this car around ever more so now because I, and my body, know what lies before us in the near future.

This time I won’t be running blind. 

I know what shin splints feel like; I know the torture of having a physiotherapist push the heel of his hand into the core of your muscle to loosen the seized up ligaments and joints, just so you can lay on your hips in bed without mind numbing pain.  I have firsthand knowledge of what it is like to run in horizontal icy rain, the wind so fierce that it feels as though it is sandpaper stripping your skin.  I know what it is like to slog in the rain through puddles that reach around your laces or on brilliant white snowy nights when it seems like it’s just you, your running partner, and the glittering gems that fall from the sky, against the rest of the world.  And you can’t help but smile and laugh at the experience of it all, because these are one of the only times when you are here and now and truly alive.  You are not past nor future, but present in breath, body and mind.  It is in times like these, with eyes wide open, that I find the ah-ha moments of discovery come and sit with me a while.  At times I enjoy what they have to say, but there are others where I wish I had not looked so deeply into myself, because the smudges show through.  Those areas where I need more work.

All in all we started out with twenty-nine runners this time, but I know that number will whittle down to half the numbers by the end of the clinic.  Those lucky determined ones will experience the rush of what it is like to be runners, and hopefully stick with it.  I am happy to report that I quickly bonded with two women in my group and one of them is a copywriter.  Wonders never cease…

The Laced Up Confessionals: Monday April 4th, 2011

I have been inspired by another who writes journal entries about his thoughts while riding the subway.  His words are raw, sharp, and will not pull punches just for the sake of it.  Every time I read one of his entries I think I have grown, and become more substantial.

I usually write poetry, short stories, fiction and non-fiction, but I have never been as candid as he is, pouring the inner most of his thoughts upon the screen.  Why not?  I don’t know.  Is it because I am afraid of what I will find under the layers of introspection?  Is it because I am worried what others will think of those layers revealed?  That I am afraid of letting my tarnished edges belie my illusions of projected perfectionism? 

I am about to embark on an experiment; a series of journal entries, which will sometimes be more like confessions.  I will be honest, both with myself and with my readers, no matter if it pains me to do so.  I am doing this for growth, and when are growing pains ever painless? 

I am engaging in this experiment on the same day that I start my new running regime.  In the past I have used my time running as meditations for prose, and I will be doing this again.  Only this time I will be sharing all that comes to mind, the good, the bad and the ugly.  I hope that they, the running, subjects of meditations and the writing will entwine and become something worthy of reading, or if nothing more will keep me on the asphalt.