Broken

It's been a really long time since I've written and I feel guilty.

I kept a half-ass blog since Taia was born. It was never intended to be shared publicly. I wrote because I needed to get my awful feelings outside myself. I suffered from postpartum depression and found nothing that could ease the bitternes and the loneliness - so I wrote.

Mind you, the things I wrote will never shared with my daughter. I may reconsider when she's thirtysomething and has a child or children of her own. It's really dark and hurtful and I can't even bring myself to revisit those entries. I'm just grateful that those days are over. I'm also thankful that I learned to love. It might be a weird strain of love, but it's my love and only way I know how to make this relationship work.

When my thoughts and feelings moved away from the dreaded truth, sarcastic "why me?" tone, I stopped writing. It was as if my therapy was over and I pulled myself into the light of motherhood. I was no longer at risk for dropping my child off on someone's doorstep or floating her down the river without a note. I admitted to liking and caring for my baby, and *gasp* loving my new Honda Odyssey. I lost my edge and I had no reason to write.

Running definitely helped me out of that depression and I credit running to saving my life.

A couple friends from my online running (moms) group encouraged me to write race reports after a few big races. It was a way they could be part of the experience and share in my successes, as well as pick me up after my not-so-grand moments. It was always surprising how interested they were and how close we became through storytelling. I began a new blog, (this one, also private), and copied those race reports here so I could keep them together.

As time passed, I appreciated going back and reading my race reports because without them, those races would be reduced to a few photos and a chip time. I hate to admit it in some circles, but I throw away the bibs, reuse the safety pins, donate all my old running shoes and 95% of my race shirts, and let Taia play with all the medals. Her favorite is the finisher's medal from the Chicago Marathon, and whenever I see that medal (almost everyday), I remember it as the heart-breaker-marathon.

I made the blog public after Leadville because it was a story worth sharing. But once I went public, I couldn't go back. I felt obligated to continue to run and write.


It's been a really long time since I've run and I feel even more guilty.

I've put on 5 lbs so far and I'm not impressed. I'm inconsolable. I am used to fluctuating a few pounds here or there, even on a daily basis, and usually, it's no big deal. Today, it is a big deal. I don't know what it's like to not exercise - meaning run, as in train for a marathon or two a year. Just as important, I don't know what it's like to not eat like I'm training for a marathon.

I feel like those sedentary people who have all the excuses: I'm in too much pain. The epidural didn't work. The doctor told me not to run, spin, yoga, swim, lift weights, not even my prescribed physical therapy exercises. Running hurts more than it helps. It's too cold and dark outside. The medicines makes me tired. There are so many sweets in the house. She hates the gym daycare. I hate the treadmill. It would take me two-and-a-half hours to walk just ten miles and I don't have that kind of time. I'm stressed out about the holidays. I've never been on a diet...

I don't want to be this person who makes excuses. I want to be the problem solver.

Not being able to run has taken away more than my fitness. Being a social runner, not running leaves me feeling isolated. Being a run-for-therapy runner, not running makes me a raging bitch. Being a stroller-pushing mother, not running gives us one less activity and way more time to annoy one another. Being an outdoor runner, not running during this season gives me cabin fever. Being a goal-oriented person, not having a goal makes me feel lost and unchallenged.

I've been silent for so long because I'm searching for myself within this broken runner. This isn't an entry of my downfall. In the grand scheme of Jody-Meltdowns, this is nothing. Trust me.

I will survive, regardless of if and when I can run again. I am just describing the feeling I have every time I see my last blog entry - a DNF with no happy photo to accompany the final race report of the year.

I must find balance. I will write again when I find it.

Happy Running to all that get to run into the New Year!

Breakthrough vs. Breakdown

Today I had my first DNF at the Schramm Park Trail Run.

Jim Craig from Angry Cow Adventures and his crew put together a 3-ish mile looping course through the woods, which came out on a winding, downhill paved park road back to the start. We were supposed to come back to the lot three times before setting off on each loop. 

Trails at Schramm Park in Gretna, NE

I started the race and intended to run 12 miles, and then after the first two loops, I stopped....and the funny thing about it - I don't feel bad at all (well, mentally and emotionally, anyway).

The course was challenging and it was great to be out there on a chilly, overcast day, racing through the woods, knowing that Rodney and a few hardcore, yet laid back, running friends were also flying through the trees and over the many bridges. I ran hard, reaching oxygen debt for a good percentage of the race - A four week hiatus from regular training runs really makes a difference in running fitness. At least I can rest knowing that I did my best for those two loops.

I feel like it's a major breakthrough for me. It is as if my will power and running addiction were racing each other. I failed one test, but by failing, I passed another. I couldn't have done this a month ago. I couldn't let myself quit.

Especially not in these conditions:

• Perfect running conditions: cold, trail, no wind.
• The course was fun. 
• It was a small low key event with really cool people. 
• Good support: great race director, access to the car, water, personal photographer waiting in the woods to capture a few pictures of my last race of the season.
• I was the lead female for the 12-miler, until I stopped.
• Bruce told me to stop, and since when do I listen to anyone? ( I was in front of him after the first loop, and he finished a two steps ahead of me after the second, and I thought he didn't want to race me for the second half.)
• Rodney was heckling me not to "puss out". (Yes, the same guy who told me to "Man-up" when I was in labor.) 
• Rodney said, "you're going to be hurting later anyway, so you may as well finish it". A true statement, but I still didn't change my mind. 
• It was freezing cold standing there, not running, but after three minutes I told the race people that I was done. 

I am not a person driven by competition. I'm not someone who is used to winning (anything). I'm not even someone concerned about getting a PR each time I race. My best times have always been achieved when I'm not "racing", when I'm "just out for a training run". I've been criticized for not having a competitive spirit, and obviously I'm not someone who cares what people think of me. I don't even consider myself an athlete. I just run.

I supposed I'm obsessed with being and staying tough, thinking that tough guys never quit.  Surprisingly enough, I don't feel any less tough because I did quit. I will run again, maybe not soon, but I'll be back.

---

Could I be transitioning into a normal person?

Don't worry, I'm not that delusional!

The Goat Butt - My Injury

I never had sciatica when I was pregnant. I didn't know anyone who suffered from it, until recently. I wasn't aware of how common it was, and not just for pregnant women. Many runners that I have met are able to empathize with the awkwardly painful and debilitating problem. 

The butt crisis began on March 16 while sprinting the straightaways and jogging the bends at MWHS during Wednesday night speed workouts at the track. I woke up that night in agonizing pain and was unable to race the Blarney Stone 5K on St. Patrick's Day, as I had intended. It was the first of 17 races that I played spectator/photographer and not an active participant. 

Having constant pressure against my butt relieved some of the pain, but how realistic was it to have my butt pressed up against something 24/7?

 A goat at the Henry Doorly Zoo and his beloved log. I know exactly how you feel.

The worst part was that I was in the most pain, when my body was in a relaxed position. This made the activity of running no more painful than walking, sitting and/or sleeping. So, I did what any addicted runner and wanna-be ultra-marthoner would do - I ran. 

I managed the pain by running more, sitting less, and going slow. At the speeds I was going, I could run forever without extreme pain. I read and watched DVDs about suffering runners (Running on the Sun: Badwater 135, Running the Sahara). Whether I was injured or not, running 50 miles at altitude was going to hurt. I knew my body was strong, but I needed mental toughness. I did what the Leadville 100 creator, Ken Choubler advised when he said, "Make friends with pain, and you will never be alone". Me and my pain-in-the-ass, we were best friends. We survived Leadville, and even more painful, the drive back to Omaha. 

After the Boxer 500, the pain morphed into a constant burning pain in my deep right glute, which worsened and shoot down my leg whenever I'd drive, sit on a cushioned surface like a couch, desk or kitchen chair. Sleep comfortably in a bed? Forget it. I could only sleep if I were flat on my back, on the couch, with pillows wedged my side to prevent rolling onto my side because the pain would wake me. 

I employed physical therapists, massage therapists, and chiropractors and underwent a series of hopeful treatments including inner core strengthening exercises, Myofascial-release, deep tissue, manual adjustment, ProAdjuster, electrical stimulation, Graston Technique, Active Release Techniques, and even optic nerve exercises. There were seven chiropractors and treatment methods varied in numerous ways, but regardless, nothing provided relief that lasted more than 4 hours. 

A recent MRI showed that I have a slightly enlarged, yet insignificant right piriformis, bursitis on my right hip (lateral extra-articular snapping hip syndrome), and herniated lumbar disc between L4 and L5. I've been told that it really doesn't matter: Many non-runners suffer from a herniated disc, and many people with herniated discs are asymptotic. I am grateful that it's not something worse. Taking into consideration that my strength, flexibility, and reflexes are good, eliminates the need for surgery at this time. The prescribed treatment is (more) physical therapy.

Here are some of the other notable (slightly mental) issues that I am dealing with at this time:

1. Social isolation from regular running groups. I've never spent this much time with just Taia since she was born.
2. Fear of getting fat due to calorie input exceeding calorie output. Hello? Thanksgiving is right around the corner.
3. Unusual eating patterns and cravings. It's no longer okay to enjoy carbo-loading.
4. Irregularity.
5. Moodiness, especially towards people who talk about how great their run was that day.
6. Sleep? I wish. I used to have issues falling asleep and now I have issues falling asleep and staying asleep. 
7. Holy pent up energy and restlessness, especially now that it's getting cooler and perfect running weather.
8. No equivalent/replacement activity with an endorphin rush or sweat stimulator similar to running.
9. Increase of non-running activities/drinking activities that usually follow a group run...now I skip the run and go right to the drinking. Lots of guilt. I feel like a binge drinker.
10. Realization that I have no outfits suitable for everyday wear. I always look like I just got back or about to head out for a run. I'm an impostor. 
11. I'm visibly aging. I may need to invest in foundation, concealers, and make-up because I have none.
12. Fear that I'm ruining my kidneys with all the ibuprofen 600mg I've taken the past month.
13. Taia has asked to "Run with BOB" on a few occasions. BOB is getting dusty. Feeling guilt about making excuses that she doesn't understand.
14. Feeling like a liar when I say "I'm a runner".
15. Avoiding Daily Mile and my Running Log, where I want to cry seeing blank dates and pages. 
16. My beautiful, fabulous Pure Cadence shoes that only have 8.5 miles on them after owning them for a month. I used to go through a pair of shoes in that amount of time.
17. I'm supposed to be test-wearing a shoe right now so I feel obligated to run more miles.
18. Anxious about not having a race on the calendar for the future. I'm now a person with no racing goals. It's such an empty feeling. 
19. The question of the day used to be: "How many miles have you run (so far) today?" Then it was: "Did you run today?" and now it's just: "How's your butt?"
20. On the odd occasion that Rodney gets on the treadmill or goes for a run, I've experienced jealousy, and I've never felt that before. 
21. Wow, I suck at everything that's not running... like swimming (aka flopping around in a pool, thank goodness it's only 4ft deep); yoga (balance, breathing, and clarity are not skills I possess), strength/core classes (What happened to my muscles?); spinning (Whoa! haven't used those leg muscles in a while).

  

Little Goblin's Run (or not) - October 29, 2011

Taia was totally prepared for this year's Halloween Race.

Last year she was just 14 months (an avid walker and runner, yet still a novice). This year was going to be different: She was two and she was ready to run.

She practiced 'racing' Grandpa Denny on many occasions. We made several reconnaissance trips to Vala's Pumpkin Patch - it was almost as if we had home court advantage. I'd dressed her in the Minnie Mouse costume and even pinned an old bib number on her before releasing her in the yard. In fact, if she was going anywhere on her own two feet, she was running. 

I'm sure I yelled "Walk!" as I frequently as I yelled, "No!" to her this month. 

People chuckled when I went on the local television station's Morning Blend to talk about the Monster Dash http://www.omahamorningblend.com/videos/131597438.html. I was hopeful that my two-year old would run since "last year, she just stood there". The hosts of the show didn't find it surprising. They clearly underestimate the fact that some one-year olds are capable of running (particularly darting in the opposite direction). A few friends watching the broadcast caught my comment regarding the idea that kids can get to the finish line in any "way shape or form" and I offered a few suggestions including "pick 'em up, drag 'em there, run 'em there..."

I won't say too much about the race. It was memorable, and slightly traumatic too.

If you ask her if she ran...she'll admit, "No... I cried. I had meltdown."

The Hardest Thing Besides Starting...is Stopping

I have not had a deliberate training run for 8 days. Before this hiatus, the longest I've gone without running in the year 2011 has not been more than 72 hours.

It took me 8 days to go through the withdrawal symptoms of my running addiction. I've experienced  the emotional symptoms similar those that go through heroine or alcohol withdrawal: social isolation, anxiety, lack of concentration, irritability, restlessness, and bouts of depression. I just haven't been myself. I'm not myself. I'm broken.

Most normal (non-runners) probably can't relate. It was stupid what I did...running through all the aches and pains. It's my own damn fault (just like Dale Nielson made me repeat); and I am paying for it. I admit that I probably should have stopped after Leadville, and rehabbed like I said I would (a hundred times).

But I just couldn't stop. Running was everything to me and if I didn't run, I felt like nothing. I had FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) in a big, bad way. That in itself, is a major addiction.

There are 30-40 people that I won't see because I'm not running. Some may say they're not really my friends, but I beg to differ. True, some are not the kind of friends that I hang out with off the track, path, or race circuit, but they are my kind of people. I enjoy spending time with them - catching up, laughing, storytelling, sharing information, meeting new people, all the while running around outside somewhere. There's nothing weird about it.

The truth is that I'd surely meet up and have a beer with most of these people (after the run, of course), but the fact is, we're all busy people. We have lives that include spouses, children, family functions, birthday parties, jobs, vacation, appointments, you name it. The common ground lies in our desire to include running as one of our priorities, a period of time that we schedule just for ourselves. When I combine my running workouts with friends, it is the perfect date.

When I commit to meeting someone at an ungodly hour for an unimaginable number of miles, it's not guilt or accountability that gets my ass there; it's the excitement of hanging out with a friend. Of course after a few hours, misery does love company, and it's comforting being able to suffer together. It's nice to have a pacer, witness, guardian, and someone to share the tough times. It builds friendships.

Even though I'm rarely seen without my running shoes and pony tail, there's nothing I wouldn't do for any of my running buddies, if they asked me - anytime, anywhere.

Except for the time being, I'm not taking any running appointments.

Rock'N'Roll Denver Half Marathon - 10/9/2011

This race was a very emotional run for me. I actually cried a few times when my body let me use fluid to make tears instead of sweat.

First of all, I won free entry into this race. I actually won something in my life, and it was a $145 entry into a marathon, of all things. I entered the drawing through my Brooks Fanatics FB Group on August 3 with this post: 


"Suffering post-event depression since my 1st ultra in July, missing the mountains & trails in CO. I've had trouble deciding what to do next, but this could be it! I'd love to head back to Denver to rock my Fanatics singlet & reunite with the road."


I didn't get notification that I had won until Sept 12, only a month from race day.


It was the week before Bohemian Alps and I figured I would do the 50K and decide during, or after that.  I knew I wasn't prepared to run a full marathon, and communicated with my Brooks contact that I could indeed just do the half.


The day after the 50K was the Corporate Cup and on the drive downtown, Rodney and I (we were going to spectate) agreed that we would pass up the opportunity, and save money on the travel and accommodations. This decision stood for about 20 minutes, because after I met up with Denny and walked down 19th Street together, we were in! 


Denny and Lil's son, Jeff (who runs for Marathon/Snickers) heard that I had won free entry and decided to do it too; in fact he was so excited, he signed up and reserved hotel rooms.  Not only was I going to run the Half Marathon in Denver, but the entire family was coming, plus Denny and Lil, who are Taia's Omaha Grandparents and close friends/like family.


We began the roadtrip after Rodney finished work on Friday. We stayed the night, halfway in North Platte and continued the four hours to Denver Saturday morning after breakfast. The weather was horrible: rain, wind, and freezing temperatures. Bad enough to make this all-terrain, all-weather runner want to hibernate. We made it to the Expo, met up with Jeff, who had flown in from Des Moines a few hours earlier, and explored the Colorado Convention Center. The highlights were meeting Kara Goucher, Jeff winning a pair of Brooks shoes, and seeing Greg for a brief moment.


The eve before race day my main goal was carbo-loading, which I have to say is my favorite part of racing. We went to the Old Spaghetti Factory and filled my glycogen storage to the brim. I had enough white bread and pasta to fuel me for a marathon or more, and I rolled myself and Taia over to the Marriott bar to watch the Huskers make a gigantic comeback for the win over Ohio State. 


After the game we walked to our hotel just down street, where Rodney and Taia went to bed. I did my usual nighttime non-sleeping routine, which consists of picking out my race outfit, pinning my bib to the shirt, fastening the timing chip/D-tage to the shoe, programming alarms on my phone, packing my gear check bag, cutting my disgusting toe nails, setting out everything for the morning regiment (coffee, shower, deodorant, meds, Bodyglide, etc.). I seldom sleep more than five hours on any given night so I read the race magazine until a little after midnight and then, it was lights out.


It's race day and I'm running! The weather is beautiful, the sun is shining and my legs are feeling great. I feel no pain and I'm passing people... going up hill. I know I'm in Colorado and I'm smiling. I'm feeling terrific, terrific, terrific...Crap! I am still asleep! 


I wake up and it's 5:00AM - Showtime! It's hard not to be slightly pissed off. I feel like I've already been running. Now I have to do all the pre-race stuff again. I do everything I need to do in the bathroom and let Rodney and Taia continue to sleep in the darkness. I tuck a course map and pace chart for a 1:45-2:00 half marathon under Rodney's wallet and head out the door to meet Lauren and walk down to the Start. Let's rock!


On the way down to the Civic Center Park by the Capitol Building, Lauren announces to me that she's going to run with me. I'm surprised because she's a) running the full marathon and b) more than a minute per mile faster than me. She's a speed demon, with more talent and determination than most of the people at this race. She demotes herself to Corral 2 and next thing I know, Jeff is standing on the other side of me, also self-demoted from the fastest corral.


Oh No, it's like the Lincoln Mud Run...I'm tied to two verrrry fast people.


My panic is suspended when I see Denny and Lil waving to us from beyond the barriers of this very crowded and ever swelling start corral. I am pumped because I'm surrounded in what feels like family to me. Denny has never been to an event like this, and Lil loathes all things associated with being a race spectator, despite the fact that Denny and Jeff are super talented and race often. We are ready to roll!

_____

The race starts, and oddly enough, it's exactly like my dream...except I have two very fast and attractive escorts on each side of me. Jeff sticks with us for the first three miles, a good warm up, and moves forth. I finish the 5K too fast, and my butt hates me. We see Lil and Denny around Mile 4, before the only hill that I can remember, and the only time I think the altitude is stealing my attitude. Just breathe.

Just before Mile 5, I'm hallucinating. No, I'm not. It's Greg in the world's puffiest coat, facial hair, and his famous red Nebraska cap, now frayed and faded. We pull over and hug. He hugs Lauren and I attack the two of them, sharing a big Colorado reunion hug, right there on the street. It's like a party, and we beg him to come along. He ran a brutal 20-miler in extreme weather yesterday and declines the offer. We hate leaving him, but we are elated that he's here for us. Silver Rush 50 and the experience we shared in Leadville lives on, and we are forever bound as friends. I hold back tears.


Rodney and Taia are at City Park where 5 miles of the course snakes and winds. They are able to see us at Miles 5, 8, 9 and 10 by moving no more than a few feet.  He's beside her with his camera and Taia is wearing a hat, mittens, sucking a pacifier, and blanketed like a burrito in a stroller. This is the first time Taia has been in the crowd watching me run since she was three months old. I know she won't remember this, but I sure will.


During this run, I am barely talking. Lauren is sacrificing her time to take me to where I need to to go, and for once, it's not time to chat. I'm working my ass off to keep the pace, I'm trying to keep just below 8:00/mile. I see a sign that helps me out: "You've done worse things for longer". How true. By Mile 8, I am beginning to unravel and lose my form. Lauren talks to me about my core and builds me up with her words. She's got my Nutrilite cubes in her pockets and slows down each time she sees me grab for water. Lauren is my athletic trainer, pacer, sports psychiatrist, nurse, and source of nutrition.


At Mile 10, I tell Lauren that I'm going to stop and give Taia a little squeeze, who is now nestled in Rodney's arms. It's a nice 10 second break and I'm energized to get the job done. At the cutoff after Mile 11, where Marathoners go left and Half Marathoners stay right, Lauren chose to stay right - right by my side. I could cry. We wind through Cheesman Park and take the final stretch as fast as my body will take me. Lil screams for us at Mile 13 and says that the finish is just around the corner. We turn. It's all downhill to the Finish. The last 0.2 we hit at a 6:20 pace. Lauren says, "You're racing me!" I think I tell her I love her. Regardless of whether I said it, I was thinking it. We finish together and share a sweaty (me) embrace, before she turns around and trots away to find her mom and sister on the course. She's like a running version of Robin Hood. 

I reunite with Jeff, Denny, Lil, Rodney and Taia and enjoy the rest of the day. 


Denny receives a text from John, who reveals my official time (since my Garmin auto-paused during the three occasions we stopped). I had no clue, and really didn't care either. I finished in 1:43:38! A ten second PR! Incredible. 


I absolutely love Colorado, but it was the people in my life, here, there, and everywhere who support me, that make these (painful) experiences fabulous ones. 

Course Map:

The Ultra Choice

On August 13, while running the Scenic Douglas-Sarpy Hills, the only ultramarathon in Nebraska came up in conversation.

The Bohemian Alps 50K.

At the time, the only thing appealing to me was that it was the same weekend as the Corporate Cup. The scale was basically even in my mind: A slow, hilly 50K at my own pace or a fast, flat, butt-busting 10K at my maximum effort.

A definite tie for horribility (if drinkability is a word, so is this one).

I was terrified of anyone knowing what I was thinking of doing, and decided that if I were to run the Bohemian Alps, it would be a secret.

I didn't want to hear or discuss anything about it. No training, nutrition, pains, hills, distances, money, race plans, strategies, fears, expectations, or anything along these lines. I just pretended it wasn't happening. I didn't want to be blamed for any imbalance of family life, and I didn't feel it was necessary to be anyone's inspiration.

We have a handful of superb athletes and individuals who just completed Ironman triathlons - now that's inspiration...nobody can tackle that feat without dreaming big and working hard to reach those goals.

This wasn't like that. This wasn't Leadville. This was just something I wanted to do, for me. Like instant gratification on no training or planning. Almost unprepared. All I had to go on was my fitness level from 2011, minus the injuries in my lower right quadrant.

Yes, I supposed this was my own selfish gift to myself.