I Lied
My Facebook status today is about how T can't run the annual Shamrock Run (see my post from last year) because he's got a whopper of a cold and a heck of a cough. And that he missed the Festival of Races last fall due to pneumonia. And for a kid who was born to run, he sure misses a lot of races where he would shine. And that I was disappointed that I'm not running due to injury, but more disappointed for him.
I lied. I'm beyond disappointed that I'm not running right now. Hubs is 45 and running competitively better than he has in years. Of course, a new age group will do that for you. But when I was 45, we would pull up to the grocery store -- I got dropped off at the door so I didn't have to make the trek in from the parking lot -- and I would sit for several seconds psyching myself up for the pain to follow before opening the car door to get out. By the time we got to the cash register, I would be almost hopping, my foot hurt so badly, and that was even with leaning on the cart to take my weight off of it.
I lost most of my 40s to foot injuries. A decade that had started out with bright promise -- still setting PRs, legitimately winning age group awards, running nationally ranked indoor track times. And then it all fell apart.
At 50, I finally got my feet back and was running again. I have several posts labeled "running" -- check them out. Read the joy between the lines. Here and Here.
I actually was setting what I thought were realistic goals for getting back down into respectable-times-for-my-age territory. I ran a 5 km race in June that was so close to breaking 36:00, that I decided to stop focusing on 36:00 and start thinking about 35:00 and when I got there, I would focus on 32:00.
But then I got chondromalacia patella in, not one, but both knees. I managed to get put back together well enough to climb one of the Adirondack 46 high peaks this summer, and I cherish that experience. And I started shuffling again, and it didn't seem to hurt my knees. Then I picked up swimming -- an exercise recommended for my condition -- and it went fine, until I started swimming 500 meters at a clip. My knees would hurt for a week and then, on swimming day, feel fine, and then the next day, back to aching.
So off to the bike. Fifteen minutes went well. Twenty minutes went well. So I upped it to 40 minutes. Not so well. Back to aching knees. Back to 20 minutes tops at a time.
Meanwhile, I had signed up for a season Sunday ski pass. Six weeks for $116. Skiing is all knees and quads. I put on my heavy duty knee braces and skied with trepidation. Except for the clicking every time I turned to the right, it went well. The knee that clicks is the one with the possible meniscus tear, but it never hurt. One of my physical therapy exercises has me leaning against a wall and sliding down until my knee is at a 45 degree angle and holding it. That's exactly the position the knee is in while skiing. By the end of the season, my knees were mostly pain free, except for some days where that first walk down the stairs is a bit dicey. I actually think skiing did a lot to strengthen and rehab my knees. Bonus!
However, in early February, I had to stretccchhh to reach a mug at the back of the second shelf of the cupboard. And I pulled something in my foot. I wish I had a better cover story, but there you have it. Once you hit 50, simply living is a risk factor for injury. It hurt like heck when skiing, and it's my dominant foot, so in "yikes" situations, that's the foot I put my weight on to get myself out of trouble. By the end of ski season the pain had radiated up into my ankle.
The last time we went grocery shopping, Hubs offered me the cart to lean on as he watched me hobble up and down the aisles. We're remodeling our bathroom and having to go into big box stores to pick out fixtures and tile and a vanity, and I'm back to considering a ride-on cart. The thought of limping around those stores looking for the right aisle and the two things you need being on opposite sides of the store -- ugh -- my foot dreads it.
Here we go again. I'm approaching the middle of my 50s and am I going to lose this decade to injuries too? I was in a noontime running league for so many years that when they had a trivia contest about it, I won. Bragging rights and a bottle of pear juice. I took myself out of it this year. There's a competitive side to me that makes it very difficult to hold back, and just the thought of sprinting on my injured knees hurt. I figured it would do me nothing but more harm to try to race --even carefully-- through this winter.
This morning, Hubs was preparing to go run the Shamrock race -- the one that's so hilly it's named after a hill. Bad for bad knees. Very bad for bad knees. And I realized that I'm jealous that he can run and I can't. I realized I'm beyond disappointed -- I'm grieving this loss of running -- I'm sad. Then he told me that a friend -- another older runner who has had far more success at being an older runner -- I'm convinced that being blessed with good biomechanics has more to do with being an older runner than anything else, because if it was based on the love of it and sheer determination, I would be out there -- had asked about me at yesterday's race.
"What did you tell her?" I asked.
"I told her that you're doing well, but not running because of various aches and pains and injuries," he said.
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'She's certainly had her share.'"
I burst into tears.
Yes I have. And they have not been injuries solvable by surgeries, or trust me, I would have been under the knife every single time.
I know I should see the glass as half full. I have a friend battling cancer right now. My husband's cousin is a quadriplegic from a motocross accident. I've had my day in the sun. I had a winning high school running career capped off by participating in the State Championships; I was part of the world-record setting women's 100x1-mile relay; I won a coveted third place co-ed team trophy in the Corporate Challenge -- second fastest female on the Syracuse University team; I ran nationally ranked times from 100 meters through 5000 meters throughout my late thirties and into the first month of my 40s; I've run a half-marathon; I completed a triathlon at the age of 52.
I don't have anything more to prove -- other than to show my Ethiopian-born son that I'm not a dud of a runner -- but I want to run.
So please, stupid foot, stop hurting. At least let me walk through the grocery store without grimacing in agony by the time we hit the frozen food section. Better yet, let me run.
I lied. I'm beyond disappointed that I'm not running right now. Hubs is 45 and running competitively better than he has in years. Of course, a new age group will do that for you. But when I was 45, we would pull up to the grocery store -- I got dropped off at the door so I didn't have to make the trek in from the parking lot -- and I would sit for several seconds psyching myself up for the pain to follow before opening the car door to get out. By the time we got to the cash register, I would be almost hopping, my foot hurt so badly, and that was even with leaning on the cart to take my weight off of it.
I lost most of my 40s to foot injuries. A decade that had started out with bright promise -- still setting PRs, legitimately winning age group awards, running nationally ranked indoor track times. And then it all fell apart.
At 50, I finally got my feet back and was running again. I have several posts labeled "running" -- check them out. Read the joy between the lines. Here and Here.
I actually was setting what I thought were realistic goals for getting back down into respectable-times-for-my-age territory. I ran a 5 km race in June that was so close to breaking 36:00, that I decided to stop focusing on 36:00 and start thinking about 35:00 and when I got there, I would focus on 32:00.
But then I got chondromalacia patella in, not one, but both knees. I managed to get put back together well enough to climb one of the Adirondack 46 high peaks this summer, and I cherish that experience. And I started shuffling again, and it didn't seem to hurt my knees. Then I picked up swimming -- an exercise recommended for my condition -- and it went fine, until I started swimming 500 meters at a clip. My knees would hurt for a week and then, on swimming day, feel fine, and then the next day, back to aching.
So off to the bike. Fifteen minutes went well. Twenty minutes went well. So I upped it to 40 minutes. Not so well. Back to aching knees. Back to 20 minutes tops at a time.
Meanwhile, I had signed up for a season Sunday ski pass. Six weeks for $116. Skiing is all knees and quads. I put on my heavy duty knee braces and skied with trepidation. Except for the clicking every time I turned to the right, it went well. The knee that clicks is the one with the possible meniscus tear, but it never hurt. One of my physical therapy exercises has me leaning against a wall and sliding down until my knee is at a 45 degree angle and holding it. That's exactly the position the knee is in while skiing. By the end of the season, my knees were mostly pain free, except for some days where that first walk down the stairs is a bit dicey. I actually think skiing did a lot to strengthen and rehab my knees. Bonus!
However, in early February, I had to stretccchhh to reach a mug at the back of the second shelf of the cupboard. And I pulled something in my foot. I wish I had a better cover story, but there you have it. Once you hit 50, simply living is a risk factor for injury. It hurt like heck when skiing, and it's my dominant foot, so in "yikes" situations, that's the foot I put my weight on to get myself out of trouble. By the end of ski season the pain had radiated up into my ankle.
The last time we went grocery shopping, Hubs offered me the cart to lean on as he watched me hobble up and down the aisles. We're remodeling our bathroom and having to go into big box stores to pick out fixtures and tile and a vanity, and I'm back to considering a ride-on cart. The thought of limping around those stores looking for the right aisle and the two things you need being on opposite sides of the store -- ugh -- my foot dreads it.
Here we go again. I'm approaching the middle of my 50s and am I going to lose this decade to injuries too? I was in a noontime running league for so many years that when they had a trivia contest about it, I won. Bragging rights and a bottle of pear juice. I took myself out of it this year. There's a competitive side to me that makes it very difficult to hold back, and just the thought of sprinting on my injured knees hurt. I figured it would do me nothing but more harm to try to race --even carefully-- through this winter.
This morning, Hubs was preparing to go run the Shamrock race -- the one that's so hilly it's named after a hill. Bad for bad knees. Very bad for bad knees. And I realized that I'm jealous that he can run and I can't. I realized I'm beyond disappointed -- I'm grieving this loss of running -- I'm sad. Then he told me that a friend -- another older runner who has had far more success at being an older runner -- I'm convinced that being blessed with good biomechanics has more to do with being an older runner than anything else, because if it was based on the love of it and sheer determination, I would be out there -- had asked about me at yesterday's race.
"What did you tell her?" I asked.
"I told her that you're doing well, but not running because of various aches and pains and injuries," he said.
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'She's certainly had her share.'"
I burst into tears.
Yes I have. And they have not been injuries solvable by surgeries, or trust me, I would have been under the knife every single time.
I know I should see the glass as half full. I have a friend battling cancer right now. My husband's cousin is a quadriplegic from a motocross accident. I've had my day in the sun. I had a winning high school running career capped off by participating in the State Championships; I was part of the world-record setting women's 100x1-mile relay; I won a coveted third place co-ed team trophy in the Corporate Challenge -- second fastest female on the Syracuse University team; I ran nationally ranked times from 100 meters through 5000 meters throughout my late thirties and into the first month of my 40s; I've run a half-marathon; I completed a triathlon at the age of 52.
I don't have anything more to prove -- other than to show my Ethiopian-born son that I'm not a dud of a runner -- but I want to run.
So please, stupid foot, stop hurting. At least let me walk through the grocery store without grimacing in agony by the time we hit the frozen food section. Better yet, let me run.
Here's hoping all limbs, ligaments, etc cooperate and you're running again soon.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I'm hoping I can start walking again this week.
DeleteI was a competitive gymnast for ten years, through college. Took some time off to have babies and what have you, picked up taekwondo and was a third degree black belt and national champion in my age and weight class when I was in my early/mid thirties. Currently, my orthopedist and spine doctor are in a dispute over what is causing my intense shoulder and arm pain. I also have developed arthritis in my fingers and I'm pretty sure my hips as well. Meanwhile, I can't sleep more than a couple of hours in a row because of all the pain. I couldn't even coach gymnastics anymore, which I loved, because I can't use my right arm to support anything. Sure am looking forward to 50 this year... not! I totally understand how you feel. It stinks to not be able to do things you love because the @#$%^ body won't cooperate. Hope you get some relief soon... and me too.
ReplyDeletePaula, I've seen your posts about your doctors blaming each others' areas for your problems and felt your pain. I also have constant hip pain which no one can diagnose. That I just live with, but it makes getting through the night difficult. Some nights I just can't lie on that side at all. I realized recently it's been almost a year. I suspect it's arthritis, but who knows? I'm taking celebrex twice a day for the knees and it's not making the hip pain go away, and that's supposed to be an arthritis medication. I remember watching a PBS program where they trained a bunch of non-athletes to run a marathon. All of them made it except one young woman who had to drop out of the program because she kept getting stress fractures. She was sobbing as she said, "I *want* to do it, but my body failed me." And I could so relate, as I'm sure can you. (And my intense shoulder pain back in 2009 turned out to be frozen shoulder syndrome, which hits mostly women between the ages of 50 and 60 -- I had just turned 50, comes on without explanation, and can take up to two years to go away. I still feel it when I carry something heavy with that arm. I live in fear that it's going to show up one day in my right shoulder...*sigh). I hope you find relief soon too.
Delete