"Good things come to those who wait. Be patient."
I noticed those words, again, amidst the managed chaos of things on my fridge, from the fortune cookie that I never ate. Timely, given what's going on right now.
The year 2011 was a good one for me from a running perspective, but it ended terribly when my Dad died on Christmas Eve. Although his health had been failing over the last few years, I truly thought Dad would make it well into 2012 and possibly even longer. I was wrong, though, and so spent Christmas day unexpectedly flying back to my hometown to make final arrangements for him. "Love the people God gave you, because He will need them back one day."
Dad & me, Christmas 2010
Last run of 2011: December 24.
Enter 2012, and with it, a lack of excitement about anything, really. I didn't expect it to be any different for a good long while, so just tried to settle in and take one day at a time. Knowing that I was due to begin training for Boston, round 2, again at the end of January, I set out the first week of January on my scheduled runs (although completely off schedule from my typical daily routine). The day after the third run of the year, a speedwork session that I completed solo by way of headlamp in the darkness of Wash Park, I experienced more tenderness in my left foot than I ever had--even after any marathon--and knew that it was time to get it checked out. The nagging, intermittent soreness had come and gone, and it hadn't bothered me during or after my last marathon, but I didn't want it to continue. After a visit to Dr. Michelle Wolcott at CU Sports Med Center, and a subsequent MRI, I was told that it wasn't, thankfully, a stress fracture, but that it was a stress reaction & chronic plantar fasciitis. Michelle, herself a marathoner and running friend, recommended that I cut my running considerably and cross-train, as well as start physical therapy. (Advice that I needed to hear, because I wondered if I should run on it at all or take some time off now, versus later.) Without hesitating, I started PT and immediately switched primarily to the spin bike (solo, and staying seated) and some walking. My thought was that if I could replicate my heart rate training that I'd do on my training runs on the bike or the 'mill instead, I might not be as far behind when I was able to resume running. (I discovered that if I cranked that treadmill up to a 9% incline and set the speed at a minimum of 4 mph, swinging my arms a la running, I could indeed get my heart rate up into my zone 2. Any higher of an incline, though, and you have to hold on to the handles!)
Last run, so far, of 2012: January 4.
My second visit to my PT, Jeff Coverly, yielded the encouragement that he thought I'd only be off running for two more weeks, and that I should be able to run Boston (depending, of course, on how well I responded to treatment). He works on my foot, tapes it up, and then I see him two days later. In just a couple of visits, my foot has made some progress. I'm feeling like I'm ready to test it out as soon as I get the ok from the experts. The next day, however, my back had other ideas.
I'd done a relatively easy core workout that morning, and was getting ready for work when suddenly I tweaked my back while I was--of all things--drying my hair. Had this never happened before, I might be tempted to think it was the core workout, but I know better. It's happened every so often through the years, and hasn't been a result of any type of exercise I've done. It just happens, and when it does, it just takes time to work the kinks out. In the meantime, though, I'm walking like Mr. Tudball from the old Carol Burnette show--slow and hunched over. Sometimes I try not to hunch over so much by trying to scooch my hiney forward to align with my shoulders, but I think that probably looks just as funny.
So here I am, having been given the ok to run in short bouts, with walks in-between, for a max of 30 minutes today, and I can't because of my back. With a marathon in 86 days--that's 72 training days plus a 14-day taper--it can be a little un-nerving to be missing any training, but I don't just believe in training and training hard. I believe in training smart. I want to run long distance (and hopefully run it well) far into my old, old, old age, even until I take my last breath on this earth.
(An aside: Runners are such great people, and especially my running family at Runners Edge. All the runners I know have been concerned, offered encouragement, and commiserated. At some point, they've been there in some form or fashion.)
And so, for the most immediate future, my training will be done on the spin bike and a high-incline treadmill, with the goal of reproducing the heart rate training that I do during my runs. At least, that is, just as soon as I stop channeling my inner Mr. Tudball...
Dad taught me about being able to wait on things that you want...
"Good things come to those who wait. Be patient." I'm counting on it.
Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...
