When OK is good

So three times in the past week I found myself saying the same thing to myself… “Jeeze…  I really used to do 2-3 workouts a day… ALL THE TIME?”  I don’t remember that.  The pain must have blacked it out…  And not only did I do them, but all at a higher level.  I could run 7 miles at a 7:30 pace in the morning and then ride 30 miles at a 20+ mph pace in the evening.  Then get up and do it all over again.  And this was only 5 months ago.  How the mighty have fallen…

So let’s talk current state of fitness.

The positives:  I’m working out again.  In the past two weeks I have had 5 multi-workout days.  My knees don’t hurt.

The negatives:  Everything else hurts.

My legs, lungs and most other body parts are in full rebellion.  The fatigue is intense.  I’m starving.  I can’t sleep.

You know… the usual.

I know it will take 6 months to recover to a point where I can start “improving” again, so I’m trying not to think too much about how slow I am or how I keep blowing up on runs or rides.  I’m looking for  races again and starting to think about some goals for the fall.  Nothing major, and the first one is just to live that long.  But I’m looking forward again, which is a big plus.

I also know that I have 25 pounds to lose just to get BACK to the weight I was at when I did Redman, which was 20 pounds over what I should have been.  Which, in turn will improve my times and make me feel better.

Now, my most pressing issues are actually equipment based.  My shoes are trashed, my helmet is broken (retaining straps) and I’m too fat to fit in my wetsuit.  Oh… and I don’t have the money for new stuff.  I think the helmet will be OK and I might be able to fix it, but the shoes are a $130 issue.  The wetsuit is just something I’m going to have to drop the weight to get back into.  I’m not going to buy a new one.

Nothing like a new set of challenges.

However, I couldn’t be happier to have these problems.  Because a month ago I was seriously considering selling my stuff and just walking away.  I love the fact that I’m bitching about dead shoes.  It means I’m running.  It’s all good again.

So the short term goals are simple.  Make all the workouts.  Get back to wetsuit weight.  Get past the restart soreness and fatigue.  At least be able to hang with the group for the warmup mile.  Relax… I think I’m going to be OK…

Now I need a nap.  And maybe second breakfast.  Elevensies?  …sigh…

Good to be at the back of the pack again

Over the past two months I have kind of fallen into disrepair.  I told myself that since I couldn’t run I would just swim and bike.  Then when biking hurt as well, I decided to just swim for a month.  I like to swim.

But 5 days a week swimming in the same pool, the same lane, the same people, the same pool water…?  It left me waterlogged, itchy from the chlorine and ready to just give up and go back to the couch where I seemed destined.  I admire people that can swim every day like that.  I do.  But when the guards start to call you by your first name when you come in (and you know them by name as well) AND people just move to another lane because they know this one is “yours”… It was like some weird twist of Cheers.  I was Norm, only I was a Walrus, not a mailman.  And I had a swim lane, not a stool.

And, honestly, I gave up a little.  I was frustrated, angry, feeling old, depressed.  And it showed.  I quit going to the pool.  I couldn’t do anything else, so I just sat.  But I kept eating like I was working out.  And I fell off the wagon too.  This had an all too predictable result.  I put on 20 pounds in 3 months.  None of my clothes fit anymore.  And, there for a while, I really didn’t care.

The event season started.  I watched 3 events I have done for the last 4 years go by.  Not only did I not participate, I didn’t even look.  I volunteered for one, but that didn’t help either.  I was in real danger of just walking away from it all.  I really wanted to.  I even stopped going to the gym with my son.  He kind of lost interest and without that push, the weakness just took me.  If he asked, I would go.  But otherwise I was done.  Granted, with me, weightlifting is offseason work anyway, but it felt like the last thing on the list.

Now, all of this might sound like misery and woe… and I guess it is.  But we have all been there.  Hurt, frustrated, down… failing.  And maybe it was all actually worth it (except those 20 lb…) because over the last 2 weeks my knees just… stopped… hurting.  Granted they are still a little tender and I need to get up and move around every half hour or so or I seize up like a rusty machine, but they don’t hurt DURING exercise anymore.  I went to a couple of Thursday night rides… ran more than once a week… (still no swimming though), then I ran twice in one week (last week).  Then I went back out on Saturday for a long run.  First 5, then 6, then almost 8 miles.  Still slow (remember those 20 lb?), but not in pain.  So Saturday I ran 7.5, then 3 on Sunday, then 4 yesterday and 6.5 this morning.  I’m tired (remember those 20 lb?) but I’m OK.  I’m even going to attempt to ride tonight.  That will be my first two a day workout since January.  I fully plan on suffering and getting dropped.  But as long as my knees don’t hurt, my pride will be fine.

Even though I know I need to be careful and go slow.  I think it’s time to “go” again.  I haven’t written off the season yet.  I may not compete until the fall, but I’m looking at Kirksville and then Branson for triathlons and then I will see what the fall season brings from there.  For now, it’s time to lose that same 20 pounds… again.  And then get back to trying to lose the 20lb I was trying to lose to begin with.  I’ve got a lot of work to do.

Can you describe your last run?

So I actually managed to run 11 miles last week.  My knees cooperated for the most part and seemed to be less happy with all the yard work I did yesterday than the running.  I have decided to abandon all yard work from this point on…  Just running for me.

My right knee seems to be the least happy but is tolerable for the most part.  It actually feels better when I move around.  The left one is fine.

Still, the whole thing has had me very worried about not being able to run anymore and even though my runs are shorter, I have been forcing myself to pay attention to them a bit more.  I think anyone who does a repetitive workout like a run can become complacent over time and start to take things for granted.  We get so focused on numbers and effort that I think we can lose the joy of movement sometimes.  It’s only when we are seriously faced with the possibility of not getting to participate in the activity anymore that we are startled back to reality.

I was thinking about this on my Friday run.  I only went 3 miles but it was a good run.  I wanted to share it.

Bear Creek Trail is about a 5 mile, mostly crushed limestone trail that winds east to west from Cosmo Park to Albert Oakland Park in North Columbia.  It is the closest trail to my house, being less than 2 miles from my front door.  The fact that it is so close makes it even more of a shame that I don’t use it more.  The zero point for the trail is at the back of Cosmo park.  It leaves the park to the east and winds between a golf course and a nature area that contains some great single track for running or mountain biking.  A run through this area can add up to 4 miles of off road running to the fun.  The main feature of this first mile of the trail is a huge (and painful) hill that drops down into the creek bottom.  If you leave from this trail head, remember you have to come back UP that hill.  Once down at the bottom of the hill the trail winds creekside along Bear Creek for about 3 miles.  Although it is urban, you can barely tell for the first few miles as the trail winds and crisscrosses the creek.  Once past the dog park on Garth, the trail continues for another mile or so before appearing to end at Rangeline.  This is the only unfortunate section of this trail as you have to come off of the trail and run on sidewalks and through an industrial area in order to find the trail again.  The first time I did this part of the trail I had to turn back as there were no signs and I was sure I was lost.  However, you pick the trail back up behind some businesses and it continues on into Albert Oakland as it winds through a few neighborhoods and back up a hill into the back of the park.  Albert Oakland is known for it’s Frisbee golf  course and you can expect to see people playing at any time of year and in most any weather.  The trail switches from limestone to pavement here and that is the signal to turn around.  A round trip, out and back course is about 9 miles.

There are several access points along the way.  The one closest to my house is on Creasy Springs.  A sign and a simple parking lot are all that let you know you are there.  A porta potty sits at the trail head and the city keeps them clean and full so they are a safe bet in case of emergency.  Full facilities are at either end as well.  In all, a pretty decent resource.

On Friday I decided to run from the Creasy access to a spur that goes around a marsh and then up a hill into a neighborhood.  Then back down the hill to the dog park on Garth and back in.  It went something like this…

I started out at the same stiff trot that has been the norm for my runs of late.  It always takes me a while to get warmed up, but since my knees started hurting, it seems to take a little longer.  The trail from the parking lot goes out about 50 yards and then tees.  Go left and you get about a half mile of flat, quiet trail before you hit “the hill”.  My knees were not up to that yet so I meekly turned right and headed down toward the dog park.

Insistent on leaving winter behind me, I decided to wear shorts, even though it was just a tiny bit chilly.  A north breeze didn’t help but I knew that as soon as I warmed up I would be sweating, even though it was only about 45-50 degrees.

Bear Creek sets the path for the trail going this direction and it was swollen due to snow melt and recent rains.  The normally babbling creek was roaring in spots and threatening to come out of it’s banks.  While this may sound scary, it’s a normal occurrence.  This is an urban watershed and routinely floods in spots.  A minor irritation for the most part and the trail is built to handle it.  The water was a dirty tan color and moving pretty fast.  The trail, however, was dry for the most part.  Only a few very minor spots were even wet.

This time of year, the trail holds promise.  Early spring is a contrast of dead leaves and new sprouts.  Look close and you see bulbs popping through the dead fall and new buds at the ends of tree branches.  In the midwest spring is never really sure when to start.  Temperatures fluctuate so much that plant or animals that comes out too early can get a nasty surprise.  Some years everything buds and critters wake up, only to be frozen again by a late season storm.  However, the cautious optimism of nature is always encouraging.

I am always worried about stepping on a rock and rolling my ankle.  Given my track record, this is a legitimate concern.  However, on this day I couldn’t help looking up.  I wasn’t running that fast so I didn’t feel the need to spot every pebble that might hurt me and I really just wanted to soak it all in.

The birds this time of year are fun.  Still scruffy from winter but starting to get polished up for spring, the Cardinals, especially, are easy to hear and almost impossible to miss as they are so red against the dingy, late winter backdrop that they almost glow.  The birds on this trail are also pretty accustomed to people and several continued their singing even as I ran past them within a few feet.  It almost sounded like they were yelling in my ear.

The trail goes back under Creasy Springs and then hits a raised bridge that goes right along the creek.  It is the longest wooden bridge on this trail and is wedged between the water and a small cliff face.  This day, for some reason, the cliff face was loaded with squirrels.  A dozen or more  sounded like a small army tearing up the underbrush except for the one in the tree that decided to question my lineage as I went by.  Being cussed out by a squirrel adds a good bit of comedy to any run.

As I came off the bridge I was immediately struck by the sound of birds.  LOTS of birds.  This time of year we get migrating flocks of starlings through the area.  ENORMOUS flocks.  Sometimes numbering 10,000 or more.  This flock was not that big, maybe a thousand birds, but the racket was amazing.  Like a tree full of squeaky wheels all turning at the same time.  Mixed in with them (I didn’t know they did this) were dozens of Red Winged Blackbirds and Grackles.  All adding to the din.  As I ran up on the trees they were in they exploded out of them in a huge roar of wings.  Only to settle just across the trail and start rattling again.

Even as I was running past this noisy mess of feathers, the noise changed yet again.  As I crossed yet another bridge over the creek, I started hearing the unmistakable sound of a sure sign of spring.  Frogs.  As you cross the bridge, the trail splits off into several small spurs that wind around and through a natural (and man made) marsh.  And on this, only the second day over 60 this spring,  the peepers were out in force.  One of these little guys croaking for a mate is cute.  Thousands of them are so noisy it just makes your ears ring.  You can’t even understand it until you try to talk to someone in the midst of it and you CAN’T HEAR EACH OTHER.  One shouldn’t have to raise one’s voice to be heard over a frog… Just sayin’.

At one point the trail wound back by the flock of Starlings and between the two of them I was completely deaf.  The only other thing I could hear was an occasional soft, slow groan of another type of frog.  It was amazing.

I finally turned off the spur and picked up a new part of the trail that goes up a gradual hill into a neighborhood.  Steep sided hills with houses on both sides watch you all the way to the road.  It took a minute or two to get my hearing back.  I found myself jealous of the people who owned the houses.  And I wondered if they took as much advantage of this trail as they should.  I can’t imagine having a resource like this out my back door and not using it every day.  Of course… I did live within 3 blocks of a beach in SoCal and got sandy MAYBE 10 times in 13 years… so I know about wasting resources…

Because you immediately turn away from the drone of the marshes it gets quiet quickly.  The frogs and birds are replaced by casual conversations in back yards, the occasional car and the occasional dog barking.  Not so much as a threat to you for being in their territory but almost to say “take me with you”.  The dogs around here know there is always a party at the dog park and I was headed right at it.  They all wanted to go.

Once you get back down the hill you hit the trail again at the Garth dog park access.  Since this was the first warm day in a while, the dog park was packed.  I slowed down a bit to watch the fun as a pack of at least 20 dogs of all shapes and sizes did their best to cover themselves in mud, dog slobber and whatever else they could find to roll in.  I thought to myself that a romp in the mud did have a certain appeal…  Rolling in the other stuff… not so much.  I passed several more excited pooches as I made my turn back down the trail to head for home.  All happy and well adjusted.  One even turned around and ran with me for a while as he slipped out of his owner’s grip.  I stopped and exchanged pleasantries with him as his owner caught up and then moved on.

There was so much to see on this run.  Were they all this way?  What have I missed?  I didn’t want to stop but my current lack of fitness and my complaining knee were starting to weigh me down a bit so as sad as I was to stop, I was glad it was almost over.  So back past the frogs, the birds, the squirrels and the rest of it all I went.  Back to the tidy parking lot and my car.  But I lingered a bit down creekside.  I watched the fast moving water, the birds, the cars on the road above.

I need this.

Hidden Gem: Roaring River State Park, Fire Tower Trail

Roaring River State Park is located 7 miles south of Cassville, MO at the edge of the Mark Twain National Forest in Southwest Missouri.

There is nothing like nagging injuries to force you to look for options.  I know, my last post was all about options, and it’s still ongoing.  My preferred methods of self torture are still not an option due to my knees.  It’s too cold to get the kayak out and see how it does for me.  So I swim, when I can find a pool… and what else?  My weight loss goals are at a standstill.  Now I’m gaining weight due to inactivity.  I’m starting to panic a little bit.

One thing I can do is walk.  But of course, since this is me we are talking about, I take the extreme form of walking.  Hiking.  I have found my hiking boots and other accessories and in a desperate attempt to keep from having to buy bigger pants (a VERY real possibility if I’m not careful) I have started hitting the trails again.  We don’t have any extreme trails around here in Mid Mo.  Most are well worn and fairly gentle.  No mile long ups or downs.  But some are several miles long and get me back out where I’m happy.  In the woods.

I travel a lot for work.  I go to schools all over the state.  Most of which are WAY out of the way.  Small, rural schools where an associated city may or may not exist.  I used to document these places in this blog when I would find a cool spot to run while I was there.  I may expand that for a while to give me something to do and add hiking trails to the mix.

Such was the case this past week.  I was dispatched to the southwest corner of the state to a small school with no hotels in the town it was in.  I could have stayed 40+ miles away in a modern city and eaten at my favorite places, but in looking around I found a state park with a big lodge and campgrounds less than 10 miles away.  In looking at it on the map, even Google was confused.  Depending on how I looked at it, the lodge was in two different places.  When I finally pegged it down, I noticed that the forest and trees just seemed to “start” about 2 miles from it.  But since I had never been there I had no idea what I was looking at.  The images provided by the hotel website (woefully out of date and “under construction”… I HATE that…) seemed to show a different world than I was seeing.  Huge hills, trees, beautiful scenery.  The lodge was roughly the same price as one of the city hotels, all things considered, so I got a room there.

It’s a 4 hour drive to this town.  By the time I got there my knees were aching pretty bad and I needed to walk around the car a bit to loosen up (read: I’m old).  I found the school, got gas and headed out just south of town to the Roaring River State Park.  And just as the map had shown, it was mostly farmland right up to the edge of the Mark Twain National Forest.  Then the road dove down into a steep walled valley and I was in the Ozarks.  Pretty spectacular.

It has been so long since I have really been in this environment I forgot how different it was… and how much I like it.  The lodge is situated on the side of a hill overlooking the river.  The whole thing is situated at the very bottom of the hills, almost in a bowl, and is centered around a trout hatchery.  The lodge is fairly modern but it ain’t no Hilton.  It caters to outdoor folk and has far more cabins than rooms.  I was the ONLY one there without a fishing pole…

I used to love this environment.  There were people fishing everywhere.  With very little wind, the entire canyon smelled like wood smoke.  The good kind.  The s’mores and camp coffee kind.  Tents, cabins, RVs, a group lodge with a big fire pit.  Signs warning people to protect food and clean up fish guts to keep the bears out (yes, there are bears here).  It’s simpler.  Different things are important.  I had pretty much abandoned this life 10 years ago when I started using a CPAP machine to help me sleep.  Dragging the old “iron lung” around with me everywhere is no fun and definitely eliminates things like backpacking, so I just had to let it go.  Yes, I could invest in a camper or camp in cabins, but it just seemed kind of a waste.  I may have to re-think that…

I checked in at about 4pm but didn’t even unload or go to my room.  There are trails in the park and I wanted to take advantage of them.  I got a trail map from the front desk, picked a likely route and drove down to the trailhead.  I wanted to hike.

Although the topo helped I still had to do a little digging to find the trail.  I got the stink eye from fishermen as I pulled in right next to them.  The river coming from the hatchery is basically one big parking lot.  I could tell I was encroaching on their honey hole and they weren’t pleased.  Until I got out and didn’t have fishing gear.  Then they just looked confused.  After locating the trailhead for the River trail (which does just exactly what you would think… goes right down the river), I grabbed a sweatshirt and tied it around my waist (it was chilly but not bad, but I knew it would be cold when the sun went down) and wandered off down the trail.

I spent equal parts of my time during the first part of the trail marveling at the topography and stopping occasionally to watch people fish.  Not exactly a spectator sport, but still fun.  The trail rises up along a hill so that you are above and looking down on the river.  Not only could I see the fishermen, I could see their intended targets in the clear water.  I watched several good sized trout rise up to meet a fly, only to back off at the last second.  Ooooh… so close to dinner…

I had forgotten what a fly rod SOUNDS like.  Everything was mostly quiet even though there were quite a few fishermen.  So I could hear it.  The rattle of the reel.  The swish of the line.  I hadn’t heard that in 20 years.  I was taught to fly fish in Yellowstone National Park.  …so many flashbacks.  I watched a few minutes longer and saw one person catch a really nice trout (…mmmm… trout.) on a fly rod.  Neat to hear the reel scream as the fish took off.  It was like watching a fishing show.

After I snapped out of my trance I realized that I had been there way too long so I scooted off down the trail.  There was plenty of sun left up on the ridges, but the shadows were cold and getting colder.  I needed to keep moving.

The river trail was about 3/4 mile long and ended abruptly at a road.  It “kind of” looked like it crossed the road to the nature center and then went back up behind it.  I just stuck to the road and met the next trail, called Fire Tower, a few hundred yards up the road.  Most fire towers are not at the bottoms of the hills… so I knew I was in for some climbing.  I worried about my knees but they seemed happy actually, to be moving about.  Yes, there was a climb.  The trail goes up and then winds around to the tower and back down.  I didn’t have time to take it all so I followed it up to a spur that appeared to drop me back down right on top of my car.  This is a beautiful trail.  Steep in parts, big trees of mixed pine, oak, hickory and maple.  Well maintained and clean, there was very little mud on the main trail.  I did see some old bear tracks in one of the few muddy spots (not sure why he was up so early in the season), as well as deer and bobcat (too big to be a regular cat, too small for mountain lion, but definitely a cat) and some sort of dog (domestic, coyote… who knows), but not many people tracks.  The forest service had been doing quite a bit of cutting.  Some of it looked to be trail clearing, but some of it was just cutting.  After a steep climb of about a quarter of a mile, you hit a flat to gradual up that made it easier to look around.  Great views of the canyon and the Ozarks.  Even in the winter.

I got to the spur trail (yes, I can still read a topo… ) and it immediately started heading down.  My knees didn’t like this as much and it was clear that this portion of the trail was not as well loved.  I came to a spot on a forest covered cliff.  The trail split left and right.  Neither side looked great.  I went left and within 50 yards realized I had made a mistake.  The trail pretty much fell apart and then ended at a cliff.  While this may sound terrifying, it was really no big deal.  I could see my car in the parking lot below and the “cliff” was only about 15 feet high.  After wandering about a bit I spotted a way down and started my scramble.  I stopped on several occasions to discover fossils and plants, moss and other fun stuff.  …scrambling.  Something else I hadn’t done in 20 years.  Really?  Had it been that long?  *sigh*

Once off the rocks the trail picked back up again and wandered around some old structures.  I think one was an old concrete tank that used to be part of the hatchery.  An old outbuilding with chairs and a table still set up inside from 30 years ago or more.  Finally I found the jeep trail listed on the topo that lead to the back of the group lodge.  Suddenly I was in the parking lot again and staring at my car… not wanting to go just yet.  I lingered to watch the few remaining fishermen and spy on the occasional trout that passed by.  I’m sure the water was cold but I really wanted to jump in.  Common sense prevailed though and I reluctantly got in the car and headed to the lodge.

I need this.  A lot.  Being inside in a stale gym or overly chlorinated pool are necessary evils when it is rotten outside or dark, but they rot my soul.  I need trees, critters, mud, cold, hot.  It’s reality.  It forces you to plan, to think, to prepare.  It also forces you to adapt and be creative.  Whether to changing conditions or a trail that disappears. I may not be able to do 2 week backpack trips anymore, but I can definitely do this.

Speaking of which, I gotta go eat lunch.  I’m going to Rock Bridge this afternoon.  Yes, it’s 30 degrees outside and it might snow.  That’s why I’m going…  I will eventually run, swim and bike again.  Of  this I’m sure.  What I’m not so sure about anymore is when… Or why?

“Sometimes you find yourself in nature.  Sometimes in nature, you find yourself”

Options

As much as I bitch about it, I do appreciate my body.  For what it’s worth.  Yes, I would like there to be less of it to appreciate, but that abuse is of my own doing and I’m trying to fix that.  And as I look back, most of the difficulty or pain my body has given me is of my own doing.  Yes, my back failed horribly.  I did that playing roller hockey.  I broke my collar bone mountain biking.  The fractured pelvis that took me out for almost a year was a direct result of too many miles on a body carrying too much weight.  So me and my body… yeah… we’ve done some stuff.

Backpacking, mountain biking, triathlons, century rides, any team sport available… heck, even golf.  Yeah… It hasn’t been a bad ride at all…

I’m thinking about this because I went running yesterday.  This is significant in my life only because it was the first time in over a month and a half.  Why?  Because my knees… both of them… in the same spot…  have been hurting too much to run.  This is another example of overexertion pain.  I do that to me a lot.  My knees hurt because I started weightlifting again and put too much weight on the leg press machines and stressed out my knees.  The problem was, I was capable of lifting the weights I put on the machine without a problem.  However, just because you can…

I thought about several things as I was running.  First, the trail was wet and sloppy.  Even though it was 60+ degrees and I was in shorts, there was still snow on the trail.  So not wanting to make any sudden movements and give my knees more reason to complain, I went very slow and cautious with the run.  I started out to run 2 miles but my knees felt OK so I added one more.  So the first and most important thing on my mind was how did I feel.  My lungs were ok (not great) but that was to be expected.  My legs were good.  My knees protested a little at first but then functioned within normal parameters after that.  Only the slightest discomfort and it got better, not worse, as I warmed up.

But then, as is usually the case when I run, my mind started to wander.  Only enough attention to the trail to make sure I didn’t step on or in something.  The rest of my body went on autopilot.  The goal was just to run.  So that eliminated the need to follow a watch or look for mile markers.  I started thinking about running in general and how much I like it.  I worried about not being able to run again.  I worried that this time maybe my body had finally had enough and was done with running for good.  That made me sad.  Both that I was getting older and my body might let me down, and that I was at a loss for what to do if I couldn’t run anymore.  What would I do?

So I started looking at my options.  Swimming?  Yes, I do like to swim.  However,  it’s kind of like a wet treadmill to swim in a pool and I can only go so far without going slightly (more) insane.  Bicycling?  I do like it a lot but there is a lot of overhead.  Bikes, gear, spandex (oy…) and finding decent places to ride all make bicycling more of a pain than it is really worth sometimes.  Mountain biking would be my choice but in mid Mo there are 4-5 months out of the year you just can’t ride.  And not because it’s cold.  I’m OK with cold.  It’s just too wet to ride and the parks are closed.  I don’t mind road bikes but I don’t love them either.

So then, as I ran over a bridge, I started thinking about my new purchase of a kayak.  Would that be a good replacement?  Is it even a good workout?  How long would it take to get good enough at it so that I could make it a good workout?  My kayak has never been in the water with MY butt in it.  And as I ran past a trail that wandered off into the woods I thought about hiking.  Great exercise and gets me out in the woods where I really like to be.  There are thousands of miles of great trails in Mo.  Would that be the answer?  Could I get enough exercise out of it to make it worth my while without having to be out in it all day?

And then my run was over.

I don’t know who was controlling my body… but I wasn’t.  I was in my head.  Somehow I had managed to turn around at a mile and a half and get me home… But I didn’t do it.  My body did.

I was too busy worrying about what I was going to do when I couldn’t run anymore to realize that, for today, I can still run.  And as I write this the day after, which is usually the day I pay the bill for doing something stupid if there is one to be paid…

I feel pretty good.  Not 100%, but maybe 90%?

And I feel a little better inside too.  I really thought this might be the beginning of the end for me and running.  That was eating at me quite a bit.  But I realized that, for today, I think I’m OK.  And if I’m cautious and good to myself, I can get back to running again…  Not fast.  Not often.  No hills or offroad stuff for a while.  But I can keep running.  I need that.

I think the other thing I realized is that even if I can’t run anymore someday, I have options.  I just listed 4 or 5 here and there are more.  I had never really thought about that before.  I was so worried about what I couldn’t do, I wasn’t looking at what I still could do.  This is a familiar theme with me and kind of a bad habit.

I don’t think I need to begin planning an exit strategy just yet, but it’s nice to know it won’t involve the couch when it comes.  That would be tragic.

“I run because I can.”

The end of an era… thank GAWD!

Right after we moved to Columbia in 2006 and I started the whole “get in shape” thingy… we purchased a treadmill.  It was almost immediately after that I discovered something.  I really frickin’ HATE treadmills.  And, yes, I WOULD much rather run in the (insert crappy weather scenario here) thankyouverymuch!  I’m slow enough on a good day.  I don’t need to run in place for an hour and have lights and dials remind me of how slow I am going on a second by second basis.

I did, however, manage to dutifully choke down some moderate time on our treadmill and it has served other purposes as well.  It helped my wife train for her first running event and helped her rehab her back, etc.  It was also grudgingly used by my son in an effort to teach him about fitness.  I think that one backfired though as he now hates treadmills as much as I do.  So it served a useful purpose.  However, of late I have been going to the gym and swimming or spinning (which is like the treadmill… on a bike… with music) and I have started lifting weights again so the treadmill has been relegated to a clothes drying rack or a place for stray socks to hide under.

So my wife came to me a few weeks ago and said “ya know, we should just sell that treadmill and make more room in the living room”.  I fought back tears of joy as I choked out the “yeah, you are probably right” response.  So I posted that I was selling it to the local triathlon club and got several inquiries almost immediately.  It is destined to spend it’s last weekend at the Inn of the Three Legged Dragon this weekend.  Monday it will be gone.

Don’t get me wrong.  Treadmills serve a useful purpose and many people use them well to get/stay in shape.  I get that.  I’m just not one of them.  After about 10 minutes I am either bored stiff, dizzy, or both.  Even with all the programmed workouts, music, etc.  I just totally zone out and lose interest almost immediately.  I do much better on a spin bike (I’m not sure why), but still, I can only tolerate about an hour there, so I’m glad the gym has them so I don’t have to buy one.  That alone is worth the price of my membership.  That… and I don’t have to clean the pool…

But… Good riddance, sez I!  Honestly, just not having the guilt of looking at the thing every time I walk through the door and knowing I will NEVER use it again makes me feel better already.

“If you think a minute goes by really fast, you’ve never been on a treadmill.”

Death to Captain Whineypants!

A couple of nagging injuries have really put my morale in the toilet lately and to be honest, I’m a bit ashamed of myself.  Over the past 3 weeks, Captain Whineypants (my evil arch nemesis) has returned with a vengeance, destroying my motivation and will to workout.

His first blow came in the form of a kick to the knees.  Not hard, mind you, but just enough to make them hurt.  My knees NEVER hurt.  After some soul searching and analysis, my first suspect, the 175+ mile running month I had in December, was let off the hook.  I was sore, yes.  But this particular pain, in the front and just under/inside of BOTH knees, was not the usual soreness.  My second suspect, my shoes, was also let off the hook.  Wrong pain, wrong spot, and it never hurts both knees the same way when my shoes get old.  So who was left?

Weightlifting.  Yup.  Too much weight on the leg press (360lb) was stressing my knees out.  I stopped and it is slowly getting better, but still.  No running for 3 weeks.  Depressing.

Then the Captain decided to stab me in the back… the bastard…

Another weightlifting induced issue.  I have always had some weakness and soreness right between my shoulder blades around the T2-T4 area.  Probably another disk problem but It is usually manageable and not an issue.  However, lifting weights, especially with all the focus on my swimming muscles, has brought it back up again, this time in the form of both my hands going numb.  I know it’s my back because when my hands go numb, there is a dull throbbing in that spot.  Probably just the nerves getting irritated by the exercise or the increased muscle mass restricting the nerve.  I have the same problem when I swim long distances.

Anyway, the Captain’s goal is to punch me right in the morale.  Chop me off at the will power.  Destroy my motivation.  To reduce me to a sniveling mass of complaints and excuses.

Well played, Captain… Well played.

But in my new world, success is not measured by winning or losing.  But simply by progress and adaptation.  Am I getting stronger?  Yes.  Can I switch my exercise routine around to take some of the pressure off my knees?  Yes.

See, for me it is now all about doing what I CAN do.  Even if I have to change that occasionally to fit where I am physically or mentally.  I no longer have time to spend days on the couch lamenting the loss of a good running day.  Or complaining about the snow covered trails.  It’s all about capitalizing on my options and doing SOMETHING.  Anything.  Without bitching or complaining.  A walk is better than nothing.  Lighter weights are better than no weights.

Does this mean my weight loss goals will suffer?  Yes.

Can I make it up later?  Possibly.  But that, in itself, might be a mistake.  I don’t want to fall into the overtraining scenario I was in last summer.  I can’t worry about the missed workout.  I have to focus on the next one.  Only.

So in that spirit, I need to cut this short.  I need to go swim.  Not far, 1500 yards or so.  But I will do it as best I can and be satisfied with that.  The snow will melt.  My knees are already feeling better.  I am at the same weight as last month.  Like I have said before “just breathe”.

“What you put up with is what you end up with”