When 3 Miles Is A Long Run: The Road to Recovery

I shared a great quote on my Facebook page the other day that's worth repeating:

It never gets easier. You just get better.

It's worth repeating because many people think that athletic achievements are somehow easier for people who are athletes than they are for non-athletes. It's just not true. While it might be easier for one person to go faster than another (I will never bike as fast as Lance Armstrong, with our without the doping), it's never easy.

Let me repeat that: It's never easy. Not for any athlete. Not for the couch-to-5k'er, not for the experienced marathoner. Not for Lance Armstrong, even with dope.

And when you haven't run in six months, you come face to face with this inevitable truth because all of a sudden something you could once do without thinking becomes very very hard. A three mile run. Just a 5k. Sure, a 5k race is brutal, but to just go out and run a few miles at an easy pace? I used to be able to do that in my sleep.

Now there is no easy pace.

But. But, but, but.... I can run! 

I started with a trail run two weeks ago, just 20 minutes. Last week it was a post-Thanksgiving run on my hometown trails, and I did 30 minutes without a problem. Today I did 3.5 miles and so far so good, my knee is a little sore but no stabbing pain yet.

My current plan is to work up to 4 miles once a week, with the other two runs of 30 minutes each on the elliptical. Then gradually I'll transition each of those runs back to actual running. When I can run 3 - 4 miles three times a week, then and only then will I start building in some more mileage. If it feels bad at any point, I can back off. That's something I couldn't do for oh, a couple of decades, but I'm trying to be good about training smarter and letting my body heal.

Another thing I'm trying to be good about is to release my expectations. So I did take my watch today, but I told myself I would be fine with whatever it said. 10 minute miles, 11, 12, whatever. I was pleasantly surprised to find them all under 10, with the last one under 9.

As always, the first mile always feels the worst (unless you're in an Ironman or a marathon, in which case miles 22 - 25 always feel the worst. Always.) but it did get better and that last mile felt almost.... dare I say it? Good.

PT Banned by the Geneva Convention??

"If you feel your flesh melting or burning away, you'll want to take this off"

That's what my Physical Therapist said to me as she hooked up this strange electrically-charged bandaid thingy. Okay, well, that's not exactly what she said. But is sure sounded like something close to that. And then my knee was attacked by a small swarm of teeny tiny bees. Well, maybe not, but that's what it felt like. In reality, it was Iontophoresis at work. Technically, iontophoresis is "a non-invasive method of propelling high concentrations of a charged substance, normally a medication or bioactive agent, transdermally by repulsive electromotive force using a small electrical charge applied to an iontophoretic chamber containing a similarly charged active agent and its vehicle" You can also use reverse iontophoresis to actually suck someone's molecules right out of their body. Sounds like a scary Dr. Who episode to me, but fortunately we weren't using the reverse kind today.

Shouldn't these be banned by the Geneva Convention?

But the killer-bee-swarm-electrocution-bandage is just one of the many fun and varied torture devices that my PT is inflicting on me in hopes of helping my knee get better. This one followed the Ice Scraper Guy. That's what I call the PT assistant who uses a variety of ice-scraperish implements to get my muscle and tendon fibers to stop adhering to each other. It's a really exciting process that is probably used in places like Guantanamo Bay once the Barney Song torture stops working. Now technically, this process is called "Instrument-assisted soft tissue mobilization, or IASTM and "is a system of manual therapy that uses tools to diagnose and treat skeletal muscle and connective tissue disorders. Practitioners use the tools, which typically vary in size and shape--and which often incorporate a beveled leading edge--to palpate the affected area and reduce any adhesions in the muscles, tendons and connective tissue. The scraping action of the tools stimulates healing at the cellular level and enhances blood flow to the problematic area, which further stimulates the healing process"

That all sounds fine and dandy until someone actually applies it to your badly adhered IT band. Then the fun and games are over.

All joking aside, I love my PT. She's totally amazing and aside from inflicting various devices of torture on me is actually helping my knee feel a lot better. Not good enough to actually compete in the half-Ironman I had scheduled for next week, mind you, but better. Good enough for a 60 mile hill-climbing bike ride is good enough for me, right now, today. And that's why I won't be turning her in for violating the Geneva convention after all.

I'm Going to Make You Heal Dammit

Sometimes my body can be sneaky. Sometimes it knows that I'm not really going to give it enough rest or enough downtime. I'm bad that way. So sometimes my body mutinies on me and makes me too sick to do anything. When my back really started giving me fits, I did cut back on the worst culprits - volleyball has been totally gone for weeks {sob} and I've really scaled back the intensity in karate {sniff}. I cut my running miles in half {boohoo}. I've really tried to be good. Honestly!

But it just wasn't enough for the old body to really rest and heal, so now I'm sick. No long run yesterday, no outside work, the leaf pile is laughing its evil head off out there because any exertion in the cold winter air starts me coughing my damn head off. But on the plus side, after four days of this, my back feels really really good. Maybe that's what I needed in the first place, a few days totally off.

Maybe next time I'll listen to my body and give it what it needs. Then again, maybe it'll have to kick me in the butt again. Probably so.