The Run

Thursday morning, 36 hours after my first CoreFit class, I dragged my screaming body out of bed. Everything hurt. Abs, back, legs, glutes. In fact, the only muscles that didn't hurt were my arms.

I really need to grab heavier weights next week. 

CoreFit part two was Thursday night and I was a little worried about how sore I was. I didn't want to go to a second class if it meant sacrificing my Saturday 20k run because I couldn't move. So I made myself get up Thursday morning and go for a 5k run. Just to make sure I could.

I stood at the end of my driveway in the cool, dark early morning with my finger poised over my watch. Ready to hit start and head off down the road. Ready? Hit the button Céline. C'mon girlie hit the button.

Just.

Hit.

The.

Damn.

Button.

BEEP!

I willed my butt muscles into gear and headed off. After the first ten seconds of awkward fumbling while I tried to remember how my legs worked, it felt ok. Not run like the wind ok but I think I'll survive the run ok. I was slower than normal but I was moving and nothing really hurt very much. Just stiff and really achy.

I warmed up for 2 1/2 kilometres and then figured I should stop and stretch a bit. I did and it felt really good. Then I tried to start running again. I almost laughed out loud as I felt my butt muscles quiver in fear and do their best to help propel me forward. It was a little more of a lurch than a lunge but I was moving again and ran the second half without incident.

I made it home and felt better knowing that I could indeed run.

Looks like I would be going to Thursday's class and looks like I would be running 20k on Saturday after all.

Muscle Jabs

It is possible to stick an insulin pump infusion site into muscle rather than into fat? I suppose it is but, in my five plus years of pumping, I've never had a site that felt like it was in muscle before so it never occurred to me that I could actually do that.

Last Wednesday evening I changed my site. I use one of those insertion devices that, at the push of a button, jabs the needle in. As the needle went in, I felt a bit more resistance than usual but nothing odd. It hurt a bit more than usual but, again, nothing odd.

Thursday, every so often, when I moved a certain way, I felt a twinge. I ignored it. It got worse. I ignored it. It started to twinge when I sat down or stood up but not while standing or sitting. It started to hurt when I folded slightly forward but no amount of moving side to side caused the same feeling. I started to wonder if I had somehow struck muscle with my infusion site.

I decided to try to gently wiggle it a bit to see if I could dislodge it from the muscle without causing it to actually dislodge from my body. It helped a bit but didn't solve the problem. It also hurt a lot.

I decided to use my Friday morning swim as a way to either solve the problem or force me into action. I figured the swimming causes me to move my abs in all sorts of ways as well as lengthen my body. I hoped all the movement would 'fix' the problem.

The swim, as it turns out, didn't cause any pain but also didn't solve anything. I felt nothing during the entire workout but, as soon as I went to climb out of the pool, I could feel it again.

Sigh, I hate wasting pump supplies.

I went home and stubbornly refused to change it. I went to work and gingerly moved my way around the office, getting up and sitting down more slowly than usual. I wondered if I could do it for two more days until I was actually due to change the site.

The big test would be my friday night golf game. Would the golf swing movement be a problem? I did one test swing in my kitchen and immediately knew that I had to make a choice. Change my site or skip the golf game.

Of course I changed my site. I'm stubborn but not that stubborn.

Nothing seemed amiss when I removed the site. No bent cannula. No bleeding. One removed, the pain disappeared. Just like that.

Maybe I should have an extra cookie or two, buy more maple fudge, maybe eat more salt and vinegar chips.  You know, to build up that adipose tissue cushion on my abdomen.

A Runner's Story of Pride and Pain

On Saturday, I had the best run I've had since March.

I also had the most painful post-run weekend I've had since...I don't remember. Maybe since ever.

I woke up on Saturday morning to rain. Lots of rain. We lounged in bed for a while listening to it and checking out different weather reports. They all said that same. It was supposed to rain all day. I was supposed to run 18k. My choices were: a) run in the rain or b) run on Sunday at the expense of my Sunday bike ride.

I opted to run in the rain.

I slathered on the Body Glide in all the usual spots. I pulled on my trusty sports bra, shorts and t-shirt that I've worn all summer. My heart rate monitor. My iPod shuffle. My ID bracelet and my Garmin. I loaded up my running belt with my glucometer, GUs, raisins, tissues and two bottles of water.

I turned on my watch and my music and headed out into the rain.

It took less than a minute to be soaked through. And truth be told, it was lovely. The temperature was comfortable, the rain was warm and there was no wind to speak of.  My earbuds refused to stay in my ears because everything was so wet so I tucked them away and ran sans musique. I quickly settled into a comfortable pace and just enjoyed.

It became pretty easy to identify the cars driven by people like me. They were the ones who honked and gave a thumbs up.

I only saw one other runner and it was a good friend of mine. She was running 20 miles on her own, doing loops so that she could run home and change shoes every so often. We commented on the lovely weather and the importance in training in all conditions and headed on our merry ways.

I ran 12k and then stopped for a big drink. Everything was so wet that I didn't even bother trying to check my blood sugar. I had nothing to dry my hands on and no way to keep my glucometer dry if I took it out of the ziplock bag it was hiding in. So I tried to gauge how I was feeling. I felt good - not low but not high. So I ate a box of raisins hoping it would carry me home without causing a blood sugar spike. I carried on and ran the last 6k without incident.

I made it home after 1 hour and 54 minutes of running. My body felt good. My foot felt fine. My energy was starting to flag but it was a huge improvement from my last two long runs. Doug had left me a towel by the door (thank goodness). I dried off a bit, peeled off my running digs, pulled on warm comfy clothes and checked my blood sugar. It was 3.8. A little low but, considering I ran 18k without any sense of how I was doing, I was happy with the result.

I stretched my tired muscles. I drank my chocolate milk and ate my post-run Clif Builder Bar that I love. I was feeling pretty proud of myself and happy to know that my running strength was returning.

That peaceful, post-run feeling vanished when I hopped into the shower and the warm water hit.

I muffled my scream and leaned against the wall until the pain-induced nausea passed.

I learned a new lesson about running in soaking wet clothes for two hours. I was horribly chafed in places I had never chafed before. I was equally raw in places I usually chafe and where I had applied a thick layer of Body Glide. I showered as carefully as I could and then I tried to apply some aloe vera, my usual chafing treatment.

It burned so much that I had to ask Doug to do it so I could just concentrate on not passing out.

I have chafed before but never to this extent. The rest of Saturday was spent on the couch in the loosest, softest clothes I owned. Saturday night was a rather painful sleep with no position providing much relief.

And Sunday morning's bike ride?

I had to pass because the idea of pulling on cycling shorts and a sports bra was unthinkable. So I pulled on a tank top and loose clothes to do some yoga instead.

Why is it that chafing never hurts when it's happening? I would have stopped, headed home to change or done something if I had known. But everything felt fine, great even, during the run.

It's only when I hopped in the shower that I discovered the extent of the damage.

Lesson learned.

I'm going to look quite the sight at the pool on Monday - covered in nasty red welts and rashes.

Head First

I have a confession to make.

Wednesday, at the pool, about fifteen minutes into our workout, I cried. 

Out of sheer frustration, but still, I cried.

And I learned something really important about myself: I love to swim but I am not a big fan of the other stuff that comes with swimming in pools - like flip turns and diving. 

Wednesday morning we were told that we were swimming 50x50m. Some 50s were fast, some were easy. Some were kicking and some were dragging. 

All of them had one thing in common: they started and ended in the deep end and we had to climb out after each 50m and dive back in. 

The rationale was that it would give us a great arm workout. 

"Um, I don't dive. I hate diving." I immediately said. "Can you give us some tips or something?" 

"Keep your head down" was the only tip I got. Plus a bit of encouragement about getting better with practice. 

I dove in. My goggles shifted and immediately filled with water. 

"I hate this" I thought. 

I climbed out and was told that my dive was actually pretty good. I didn't care. I just clenched my jaw and dove again. Goggles pushed hard against my nose and shifted, filling with water. 

Bloody hell I hate this. 

By about the fifth one, I was crying with frustration. No matter what I tried, how I tucked or didn't tuck my head, how close to the side or far from the side I dove, my goggles shifted or just plain hurt my face. I pulled off my swim cap and tucked my goggle strap underneath it. Still sucked. 

I am stubborn and I did 45 of the 50 before I had to leave.  I dove most of them.

By the time I left I had a huge bruise on my shin from climbing out of the pool 45 times and my face hurt from diving back in. 

"Not your favourite workout eh?" Christine asked.

"Not even close" was all I could mumble before leaving. 

The next morning I woke up to discover four kinds of pain. My abs hurt from heaving my body up and out of the pool. I take that as a good pain. 

My butt hurt from lifting myself up with my leg after using my arms to get myself halfway out of the water. Another good pain.

My shin was black and blue and very tender from leaning on it 45 times getting out of the pool. Bad pain.

My eye sockets were so tender I couldn't touch them. There is no visible bruising but they were puffy and still sore two days later. Bad pain. 

Tether me to four buckets and make me do 200m sprints and I will happily do them. 

Tie me to the wall and have me work as hard as I possibly can to fight the tether and I actually look forward to it. 

300m time trials are awesome. 

1900m open water races are fun and not quite long enough.

Freezing cold open water swims feel wonderful and pushing myself to the point of exhaustion feels great. 

Diving? If I never ever have to dive again, I'll be a very happy girl. 

And I can tell you right now that I will not be participating in any indoor races if diving is involved. I can't even tell you how uninterested I am in that. 

Season Finale

It's almost the end of the running season.

Not that the season ever really ends but, once the last races in October happen, and now that triathlons are done for the year, running continues to be a regular physical activity but the long runs hover around 10k. Ten k is a nice place to hang out after the last seven months of training.

It's probably a good thing too.

After last winter's stress fracture recuperation, I was raring to go by the spring. Training for my June half went well and my legs felt great. Summer triathlons also went well, as did the first part of my training for my fall 10 miler and half marathon.

The last two weeks though - my legs have been squawking. No pain, no shin splints (yet) - just some unhappy feelings that tell me that they are getting tired.

It's frustrating because my running is going well. My body feels strong after a summer of consistent activity. My 18k felt almost easy on the weekend and my energy levels are good. But my legs have their limits and I'm not sure I want to push them.

Global Heroes is coming up in four weeks. The Niagara Falls half marathon is coming up in 6. I haven't signed up for the half yet and don't particularly have my heart set on it. It was just a race to keep my training going. So I'm ok if that doesn't happen. But Global Heroes is huge and I need to keep fit and healthy for that. No injuries in the next four weeks!

I've got massages booked. I'm making a dent in the couch from all my lounging and icing that I'm doing there. And I'm listening carefully to my body. Really carefully.

The running season is almost over for the year. Last year - it ended early for me. This year, I'd like it to end on my terms.

Fingers crossed.

A Real Pain in the Neck

When I cycle, I'm not one of those who easily or comfortably leans forward. I don't tend to get as low as I can in order to be as aerodynamic as possible. Partly because I'm not a particularly bendy person (at least I don't bend particularly easily into that position) and I feel rather off balance as soon as I lean forward too much (although I am trying to get better at that part). 

So I sit up. Not upright like I'm sitting on a chair but probably more upright than a lot of cyclists do. 

That is not a problem most of the time (other than I'm sure it slows me down a bit) but it becomes a problem as soon as I'm on the bike for more than about 40k. That's about the time when the pain starts at the back of my neck and begins radiating out into my shoulders. Once it starts, it doesn't stop until I get off the bike and stretch. And don't get back on again for a day or two. 

I'm guessing this is going to become an issue as I try to cycle longer distances. 

So I took the bull by the horns (or perhaps the Trek by the handle bars?) and I headed over to our local bike shop. I needed a few things anyway and, while I was there, I asked the nice guy at the counter about my shoulder/neck pain. 

Kyle, as it turns out, is the guy who sizes (fits?) bikes and people. He asked what kind of bike I had and immediately suggested that my handle bars were too low.  Apparently this is a fairly common problem with Trek road bikes (who knew?). 

Next Friday, the 13th, my bike and I have a date with Kyle. We're going to be sized, measured and adjusted so that we work well together. We already get along fairly well but I'm looking forward to seeing whether a little couples therapy helps us work out the kinks. Because my bike can be a real pain in the neck sometimes...

The Pain Perception

I don't think it's a prerequisite that athletes have the ability to handle pain...but it sure does help.

If nothing else, they had better get used to some pretty major discomfort.  Particularly if they're going to take up a sport like running.  Running hurts.  So do the massages and chiropractic appointments that keep runners upright and moving forward.

When I was running full speed ahead last year - training for Around the Bay and then the marathon - I got pretty used to pain.  I was seeing either Janice and Geoff every second week and trust me when I tell you that there was a lot of tears and nausea as I clung to the bed in agony.  In fact, I once suggested to Janice that she put a little barf bucket under the hole in the headrest of her massage table...just in case.  She never did and, so far, I've never needed one.  But it's come close a few times.

During last year's running madness I also got used to shin pain.  I learned to recognize when things were tight but ok.  I learned the pain that told me to ease off because I was on the edge of shin splints and, most importantly, I learned the pain of shin splints telling me to take time off and call Geoff - again.

I was also pretty shocked when I was introduced to the unforgettable pain of a stress fracture.

So yep, I know pain.

On top of that, having Type 1 diabetes means that I am keenly aware of how I'm feeling pretty much all the time.  As I sit on the couch typing this blog, I have ice packs on my calves, I am listening for the laundry to know when it's done, I am sipping my red wine and composing my story of the day.  Despite all of these distractions, there is always (and I mean always) a part of me that is checking in to see how I'm feeling.  How's my sugar? Am I climbing after dinner?  Crashing after my run? Am I yawning because I'm tired?  Because I'm low?  High?

So to recap, I am usually very aware of how my body is feeling at any given moment and I've learned to identify and put up with a whole variety of pain options.

Now on the to the point of my story.

Last week I went to see Janice.  I've been going to her every four to five weeks rather than every two since I wasn't running and my legs really needed some down time to heal.  She started working on my calves and I was shocked at how much they hurt.  I mean really hurt.

To be honest, I was pretty disappointed.  I had worked so hard to keep my calves loose and limber and there they were feeling like rocks.  I said as much to Janice and she said that they were actually surprisingly loose.  Better than she had felt in a long long time.

Well, that's good - so why the pain?!?

Well, she said, probably because it's been so long since you've had a massage or pushed those muscles that that they are no longer used to hurting.

Bloody hell!

I knew I had to rebuild my leg strength and my running endurance after ten weeks off.  No one told me I'd have to rebuild my pain tolerance too.