Week 9: "The knee bone's connected to the hip bone…" and thoughts on paranoia

Tuesday: 4 miles
Wednesday: 4 miles
Sunday: 18 miles

A visit with the PT - you're a runner now
During Week 8 I blew off some training and worried about my knees instead. This week, I fulfilled the training schedule (mostly) and I saw a physical therapist who gave me just the answer I was looking for: my knees aren't injured, I'm just out of shape. Or, more specifically, my legs aren't used to pounding out mile after mile all week long. So that's good news. I've just got to convince the tendons in my knees to relax and get with program - lots of stretching, heating pads, more stretching.

So when I set out yesterday for the 18 mile run, I felt reassured that I wasn't exactly doing damage to myself, and that the rickety, crippled feeling that would develop over the course of the run was "normal."

It's hip to be crooked
The new (and therefore, alarming) problem that developed during the run and continues now, the day after, is a dull ache in my left hip. I have heard runners and therapists speak in hushed whispers about dreaded "IT band" problems and the race-ending calamity that rains down on someone afflicted with them. I've also heard that a common symptom is pain in the hip. There's a muscle on your hip that attaches to a tendon that runs on the outside of your thigh and connects to the knee. That long tendon is called the iliotibial band, and the muscle at the top of it is bugging me.

My fantastic chiropractor and friend squeezed me into her schedule this morning to give me her review. "You're not injured yet." Good, so how I do I make this go away? "You should just be glad if it doesn't get worse." She reminded me that my spine isn't exactly straight, and my biomechanics leave something to be desired. A born runner, I'm not. But I can stretch and keep using the heating pad and use Arnica gel also. I told her that I've only used Arnica (in my previous rugby-playing life) to speed up the healing of bruises. "We'll, that's basically what this is – you're creating all kinds of micro-abrasions in the tissue and it needs to repair itself." That's a nice picture. Yuck.

Paranoia is the gift that keeps on giving
I spent about two weeks debating whether to see the physical therapist, during which I questioned what I was feeling in my knees: is this pain? Discomfort? Is there a difference? If there's no "pain" but it doesn't feel right, is that still bad? I mean, I ran 16 miles, I'm going to feel something. When I finally went to see him, I wondered if I waited too long. Like when you hear stories that end with someone shaking their head, "If only we caught it sooner…" But in my case, the therapist told me that I wasn't injured, I'm just not used to this level of activity and that I didn't need to set up a schedule of appointments. This is the best news you can get from a doctor whose business depends on your repeat visits.

It takes hours for me to run 18 miles. That's a lot of time for your mind to wander, regardless of what's playing on your iPod. When my hip started to feel sore I went through the same mental acrobatics as I did with my knee: what is this? Is this anything? You start to over-analyze the slightest twinge and wonder at the possibilities of injury that are hidden within it.

I'm definitely glad I saw my chiropractor this morning. I instantly felt looser and limped less on the way out the door than I did on my way in. Now that I've glimpsed the harbinger of injury it will be harder to keep judge what really going on in my bones, and what's actually just in my head.

PS:
The 18 mile run (no typo there, eighteen miles) went well enough. I took a long break halfway through and sat in the sun to stretch. The snow is melting away and revealing random detritus from the fall. The ice on the river is breaking into big chunks and getting jammed up in some places. That was one of the best distractions of this run: the screeching, scraping sounds of ice, and the bubbling, rushing waterfalls where the river found space to break free from the ice. I also saw my first caterpillar of the spring – a fuzzy brown and black little guy stuck in the mud tracks of the dirt road. I didn't mind using his welfare as an excuse to stop for a minute and enjoy the afternoon.

Week 8: Slippery slope, also a powdery one

Tues-Thurs: 0 miles
Friday: 5 miles
Saturday: 4 miles
Sunday: skiing!

Since training began in January, every week added more miles and longer long runs up until last weekend, the 16 miler. This past week provided a respite - the long run was scheduled to be merely 12 miles, and I looked forward to that break.

And, boy, did I need it. My knees felt weak and tired after the 16-mile run 8 days ago, and then life got in the way of running during the work. (My guniea pig got sick, I had to make a last-minute trip across the state for work, blah, blah, blah). I figured, if there's a week in the 5-month training schedule to let things slide, this is a good one to choose.

I tried to get back on track by running on Friday (a day off) and running a little extra on Saturday. I spent Saturday night at a ski condo with a fabulous group of friends (I hope you're all reading this) and was pretty easily talked into skiing instead of running on Sunday. "It'll be a great workout for your legs!" they claimed. True, but I'm not skiing the marathon, I'm running it. All the same, we had an excellent time in the freshly fallen foot+ of snow that came with this weekend's storm.

It actually never stopped snowing the entire weekend up there on the mountain. Hello, it's MARCH already! This morning's forecast called for an "Arctic blast of cold air." Awesome. My plan to start running outside in March may be pushed back to April...

This coming week I've got to be disciplined: Sunday calls for 18 miles, and I need to run 17 miles in the days between now and then. I might call a physical therapist for knee advice - I can't tell if this is a normal tired out feeling or a harbinger of injury.

Week 7: Weak in the knees

Tuesday: 2 miles
Wednesday: 5 miles
Thursday: 4 miles
Sunday: 16 miles

Long live the republic
Tuesday was Town Meeting Day, the annual demonstration of civic virtue when people gather in elementary school cafeterias and town halls to elect new town officers and debate whether the town really needs to buy a new fire truck. New comers think of it as a quaint and tidy throwback to a Norman Rockwell yesteryear; old timers know it for being a day of spirited (sometimes boring) debate and occasional hurt feelings. It's a day I look forward to but this year it left me with enough time for only for a two-mile run.

Listening recomendation
Wednesday and Thursday my time management skills lapsed and I did both runs late at night. On Thursday while I ran, I listened to wonderful radio program from WNYC, "Studio 360." This episode was from their series, "American Icons" and it explored the history and cultural symbolism of the Lincoln Memorial. Long after my run was finished, I was still stretching and listening to stories about architectural meltdowns, public hatred of Lincoln before his death and the decades that intervened before the memorial was built. (Studio 360's American Icons program on Moby Dick was also fantastic. I actually wanted to read the book after hearing that show.)

About the knees
All week long my knees have felt creaky and grouchy. Walking up stairs, standing up after a movie -- these movements have my knees grumbling for attention. I don't think there's anything actually wrong with them, they're just being whiners. "Suck it up!" I tell them. I hope they listen, especially on Sunday.

The long run: 16 miles
I decided to prepare for this run in a more thoughtful way that I have approached the recent long runs. All day on Saturday I'm going to eat really healthy, nutrient-rich meals. I'm going to bed really early and waking up early enough to eat breakfast and digest it before I set on the run at 9:30 a.m. This is the plan. We shall see.

16 miles - check that off the list
It wasn't easy, or particularly fun, but I did it! The plan was realized (despite a little Daylight Saving confusion) -- I ate a good breakfast, fell back asleep, got up and ran. The course was charted out by a fellow Marathon 101-er; it was hillier and she was faster than I was accustomed to, but I finished about 20 minutes behind her. Several hours later, my knees are really stiff, but not in pain exactly. I think I'll spend tomorrow's day off stretching and icing. It's also time to buy a second pair of running shoes to break in over the next several weeks.

What I'm learning - Part 2

The bad news first
The 14 miles I ran last weekend took 3 hours and a few minutes to complete. This is not a good time. If I run this pace in the marathon, I won't be meeting my dreamed-of but not-worried-over goal of 5 hours. It'll be closer to 6 hours, and that seems just sad. Not to mention hot - it'll be 2 p.m. by the time I cross the finish line.

Ah - but the GOOD news
I ran a half-marathon! In November, when this time-sucking, energy-draining, nutrition-baffling endeavor was but a gleam in my eye, that was my entire goal: to run a half-marathon. Not only have I done that (and few months earlier than my goal) but I've demonstrated a principle that can be observed everywhere you look: whatever energy a task requires, is the amount of energy you'll have to complete it. However much time something needs, is how much time you'll find to give for it.

I could have chosen to run half the race in May, and I would have trained for those 13 miles. I would have worried over it, planned for it, worked at - and I might have believed it that those 13 miles was the biggest goal I could possibly accomplish. I might have believed it and lived it and finished the race and been very, very, very pleased. Instead, I will go through the same thoughts, the same worrying, the same planning - only for a much bigger goal.

Week 6: Blistering (lack of) speed

Tuesday: 2 miles (should have 4)
Wednesday: 0 (should have been 4)
Thursday: 4! Triumphant 4!
Saturday: 14 miles (this is not a typo)

My Curt Schilling moment
I knew this would be a difficult week for running because my work schedule was really overloaded. On Tuesday, I had one small window of time to run and when I arrived at the gym I found no socks in my bag. Huh. I've seen people run without socks. It seems gross, but they do it. Geez, I've seen marathoners on TV run barefooted. No socks, no problem - just get the run in.

Around mile 2 of the planned four miles, I thought to stop and see if I could retie my laces to get rid of the annoying rub on right Achilles heel. I stopped the treadmill, looked down and saw my running shoe bright red with blood. Not gushing, geysers of blood, but enough so that when I tried to clean it off of the shoe it just oozed like a soggy sponge.

So, I abandoned the last 2 miles and pondered how to heel my bloody, blistered ankle by the next day. At Wednesday's class I got some very good advice, and stopped by the store on the way to the gym afterward to buy some incredibly expensive, specialized blister-healing bandages. The bandage sweated off in less than 1/2 mile and I resigned that day's run in favor of the stationary bicycle. Lame, frustrating.

The next day, determination refocused and gym bag newly loaded with first aid supplies, I returned to the gym. Herein I will divulge the four-step process for subverting (note: not healing) blisters:

1) "Liquid Skin." You can only get away with a disgusting product name if the stuff works. Use the foam-tipped stylus to dab the liquid all over the blister/cut/wound and let it dry into a flexible, adherent bond with the skin. The package says it "sloughs off" in five days, but I found its lifespan much shorter. Still, it keeps the blister from cracking and pussing and drying into a scab. Bonus.

2) Second Skin bandage. The one made by Band-Aid is inferior to the one with the label Second Skin, so buy carefully. These suckers aren't cheap, but they cover well and stick well enough, especially if you use step 3....

3) Medical tape. To the keep the super-luxe bandage on my heel in place, I criss-crossed my ankle and foot in a figure eight of white medical tape. This was the key to the blister-control plan and it made the difference from Wednesday night's failed attempt at running and Thursday morning's success.

4) Re-tied shoelaces. Shoe people recommend that you loop and criss-cross your laces through the top two eyes on your running shoes. I undid this in my right show so that it fit looser and my heel could move a little without rubbing against the shoe.

This, my friends, did the trick. I ran four miles successfully on Thursday with no trouble whatsoever. And on Saturday, my fears of being unable to complete the long run without shredding the remaining raw skin on my heel were quashed.

Half-marathon, plus 0.9 miles
On Saturday I was in Manhattan visiting my sister. I left behind ice and snow and winter storm warnings and found expensive parking and a warm, warm, sunny day. At 9 a.m. I struck out on the Upper West Side and the radio station I was listening to reported that it was 50 degrees. I wore running pants and a long-sleeved shirt - no mittens, no hat, no neck warmers or hand warmers, no jacket, no vest under the jacket.... I felt light and ready and headed south in the thin morning light.

Running in the city is good fit with training on a treadmill because you have the familiar satisfaction of counting streets as if they were tenths of mile on your digital pedometer. You get lost in your thoughts long enough and you look up at the traffic light to realize you're already at 45th Street. Similarly, you can make deals with yourself: when you get to Broadway, eat half the Gu packet. The next "don't cross" sign you hit, stop and stretch. The next pack of tourists who get in your way, sneer at them like you're a local. Actually, the last one happens infrequently on the treadmills at my gym.

From the West 70s I ran south, then west to Chelsea Piers, then stayed on the waterfront bike path all the way down to Battery Park. The tourists were lined up far, far, far around the park for the Statue of Liberty Ferry by the time I got to Battery Park at 10 a.m. I wound around some of the old, doglegged short streets downtown - on a Saturday morning it felt crowded with buildings but empty of people.

I wended my way back north, past the WTC site, past the people peeking through the screens around the construction there, and headed toward 6th Ave. I stayed with it through the Village, into Midtown and then veered onto Broadway and into Times Square. Big mistake. Very crowded. Lots of people walking drowsily, staring up at the buildings and lights, even in full daylight. At one point the sidewalk was so jammed that I ran through/behind the impromptu stage of a Caribbean beat ensemble. I had Gu'ed recently and was getting anxious to cover some miles before the morning got too late, and I imagined myself in one of those urban-warrior running shoe commercials, hopping amid the flotsam and jetsam of the city undeterred. (In truth, I probably looked more like a hobbled runaway from a Jazzercise class, given the miles and hours I'd already spent by then. But no matter! I was running 14 miles today!)

Midtown gave way to Central Park faster than I imagined and I happily headed for the lower loop that would finish off my run. A music program on the radio was just starting as I was rounding out my last half-mile. Improbably, the song the cheered me home was from Aaron Copeland's Appalachian Spring: Rodeo - the super triumphant, happy and proud song they used in the "Beef - it's what for dinner" commercials. There is no better song to end a long run on - I recommend they blast it through the PA at the finish line on race day.