That Which Ails Me

Note: So as I began writing this, I realized that I was beginning to grow a little longwinded. So I edited it down, and then realized that most people could care less about the details/storytelling, and decided to put it in list form. So here we have a bulleted list for those of you who are just interested in the short version. Or for those of you more interested in the “storytime” version (with adjectives and such) skip on down to the medium version.

Short Version

A little while ago a friend from the DailyMile and I were trading messages about injuries, which started as a suggestion to avoid prolonged overuse of certain OTC medication. At one point she asked me what were my past injuries. I laughed when I thought about how long it would take to list them all, so I decided to make a blog post devoted to all of my major injuries.

I’ll be omitting the smaller less significant injuries that I incurred early in my life. Like the time I was 5 and stepped on a nail (of course that one was clearly just included, but others like it will be left out).

Spring 98: tore all the tendons in my left ankle

Fall 98: severed my left ACL and tore my LCL, MCL, and meniscus; knee reconstruction and rehab

Winter/Spring 03: sprained and slightly tore my rotator cuffs

Spring 04: severed my left ACL; knee reconstruction and rehab

Spring 06: separated my left A-C joint

Fall 07: severely tore my right ACL; knee reconstruction and rehab

Winter/Spring 08: separated my right A-C joint

Summer 10: developed Plantar Fasciitis

I’m not sharing this to brag about toughness, nor for a pity-party; but because it feels good to just list them all out. Granted, these are simply the major ones, the more debilitating ones. I’ve had my fair share of broken noses, fingers, concussions, black eyes, etc, but these were the big ones. These are the hurdles I’ve fought for over a decade, and I know I’ll probably have more in the future, but I’m feeling like these major ones are in the past.

Medium Version

A little while ago a friend from the DailyMile and I were trading messages about injuries, which started as a suggestion to avoid prolonged overuse of certain OTC medication. At one point she asked me what were my past injuries. I laughed when I thought about how long it would take to list them all, so I decided to make a blog post devoted to all of my major injuries.

I’ll be omitting the smaller less significant injuries that I incurred early in my life. Like the time I was 5 and stepped on a nail (of course that one was clearly just included, but others like it will be left out).

My first real injury took place in the Spring of the end of my sophomore year. It was a May practice for just the defensive line and linebackers. At the end we went out to the track and began running sprints (in the style of “Up and Down the River”). I tripped over a break in the pavement and ripped all the tendons that run through my left ankle, leaving me cast-bound for the next 8 weeks (on a side-note: I used this time to get my bench press up to 315lbs).

I got back on my feet, had a pretty good junior season until the last play of the last game of the season. The other team was down by 6 and had the ball mid-field with 4^th and 15 to go. As the QB dropped back for a Hail Mary I broke through the C-G gap. I was sprinting full steam when the FB chop blocked my knees, particularly the left one. After 3min of lying very, very still and stopping the game; I got up and walked off the field, refusing any assistance (yeah, I’ve always been stubborn). I’ll never forget the feeling when my knee bent backwards as I was walking to the sideline. The next morning the doctor was convinced it was only a sprain since I walked off the field, but went ahead with the MRI. Turns out I had completely severed my ACL and tore my LCL, MCL, and meniscus. After an extensive surgery and 6mos of rehab (and an addiction to pain killers) I was moved to Center on the offensive line and told to hunt and kill linebackers (side-note: I used that time to get my bench press up to 365lbs).

Flash forward to my 3^rd year of college; and in my quest to bench twice my bodyweight I reached 425lbs (and weighed 205). Three weeks later I went for an even 440lbs causing me to sprain and slightly tear both rotator cuffs. No surgery after that one, just TLC and a permanent avoidance of seriously heavy weight (to this day, the most I’ve ever attempted was 375lbs).

The next spring (my first of two senior years) I was simply kneeling on the ground and felt a snap in my left knee. I had blown out my left ACL (again). My doctor explained to me that it had been weak for some time and all it took was a little too much pressure in a certain direction. Another reconstruction and 6 more months of rehab.

Jump two more Springs and I’m playing backyard football against some jerks who were getting a little too aggressive and carried away hitting the little guys on my team. I tackled their RB (who had a big mouth and kept stiff arming my teammates in the throat) into the ground so hard I broke two of his ribs and separated my left A-C joint (above where the clavicle meets the rotator cuff). This left me unable to lift my arm for two weeks and had to miss the first 3 weeks of the rugby season (but it was worth it).

A year and a half later in the Fall of ’07 the day before the first day of school, I blew out my right knee at rugby practice. Not tackling, not rucking, not mauling, scrumming or even running the ball; instead I did it by running sprints. A funny step and bam, my knee buckles and I’m on the ground. I spent the next few months teaching out of a wheel chair (I got really good at wheelies). I used that Winter to lift weights and get psyched up for the Spring rugby season. I got so enthused that I separated my right A-C joint lifting weights (I’m sure the boxing didn’t help).

Flash forward to the Summer of 2010, I’m running for the sake of running; and loving it. I had just gotten over a severe case of shin splints (through patience and a pair of actual running shoes), and was building up miles. Probably a little too much too soon, not to mention too fast. By early August I was noticing a sharp stabbing pain in my right heel, after a little bit of research I found out it was Plantar Fasciitis. Took a few weeks off, and went back at it to no avail. Spent the Fall and Winter researching natural running form, shoes, and training programs and started back up in February building my form from scratch; and so far so good.

I’m not sharing this to brag about toughness, nor for a pity-party; but because it feels good to just list them all out. Granted, these are simply the major ones, the more debilitating ones. I’ve had my fair share of broken noses, fingers, concussions, black eyes, etc, but these were the big ones. These are the hurdles I’ve fought for over a decade, and I know I’ll probably have more in the future, but I’m feeling like these major ones are in the past.

Finding My Form and Losing My Breath

Before I begin, I can’t help but wonder if anyone clicked the link in my last post, titled “Hanes”. And I also have to wonder if anyone appreciated what he or she found. Perhaps I can set up a poll on this page addressing those questions, but I’m sure my laziness will prevent that from happening.

Upward and onward.

So this past Thursday I went for a run. Nothing new, I know. However, this run was different than most. First off, I was planning on running that morning with my sister (who I’ve been trying to get into running with me), but she bailed. Then my wife wanted to take our son to the park as I ran. Then on the ride out, we got a call from my friends to let us know that their (first) baby was on the way. So we then rushed to the hospital. We were there for most of the rest of the day, and I got to “bro support” my friend who has very little baby experience (much less baby girls). So after avoiding all of the fast food that was settled on by everyone else, we finally got out to the park at about 8pm. The park has a blacktopped 2mile loop that is very well maintained and very, very flat. I slipped into my shorts, laced up my Kinvaras, and handed my phone and keys to my wife. Taking off I noticed it was much cooler this time of day (I say day because it was still broad daylight out). I felt that I was moving at a pretty brisk pace (despite knowing that I planned on running 4miles), and was worried that I was going to burn out. Which has been my problem before running too fast at the beginning and having nothing left before the end. But I noticed that my legs felt great (even though they had been sore all day from my leg lift two days prior), and my form felt graceful.

Yes, I said graceful.

I have never felt graceful when running before (which doesn’t mean I didn’t look like a lumbering 3 legged bear, but we’re talking “feel” here). So I didn’t want to slow down. However my goal to run either “negative” or “even” splits had not changed, so when I passed my wife at the playground and she yelled out 17min, I knew that keeping an 8:30 pace for an additional 2 miles, when 4 miles is the longest distance I’ve ever ran at one time, was going to be difficult. But, for some reason, I didn’t feel tired. My legs weren’t burning up, my heart wasn’t pounding out of my chest, and my lungs didn’t feel like they were on the verge of implosion. Perhaps my new “gracefulness” was more efficient, and allowing me to run faster for longer, or perhaps it was partly that, coupled with the aforementioned cooler air and flat terrain. None-the-less, that run felt very empowering, in the middle of powerlifting no less. I’m looking forward to when I return running to priority one and push lifting back to second fiddle; I’m hoping this is a sign of big gains this summer.

I'm Not a Skinny Runner

As I’ve said before, I’m not a skinny guy in a big guy’s body. I am a heavyweight trying to run. And, as usual, I’ve done my duty. I’ve waken up early, I’ve suffered heat and humidity, I’ve scheduled around real life, and I’ve pushed when I didn’t want to. I have kept to my training and put in my miles. I have run 2 races (27:31 and 27:03) Though not as well as I’d like, but they’re done.

I planned on running another 5k this weekend (6/11/11, but we’ll talk about that later), one on July 4^th, and a smattering of 5ks until the Thanksgiving day 10k. This plan gives me a 3 week window between this weekend and the Edgewood Fourth of July race. As I promised myself, a few blog posts ago, I was going to use that time to get back into the weight room.

Because as much as I’ve accomplished in my running, I’ve lost so much in strength. This morning I weighed myself (226), checked my bodyfat percentage (17%, but the device might not be entirely accurate, it’s pretty cheap), and most importantly I dressed down to my Hanes and looked in the mirror (don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not that vain, this doesn’t happen very often). I wasn’t surprised with what I say, though I wasn’t entirely happy either. Well, for the past few weeks my pants were getting looser and I’m 2-3 holes deeper into my belt, which has felt great. Now that I was thoroughly examining my torso, my “feelings” were confirmed; I am significantly leaner, and my abs are growing more visible (yeah, I know: I’m awesome!). Then I looked a little farther south, the legs. As always, they were lean, tan (-er than most men), and hairy. However, my quadriceps did seem slightly smaller than usual, but don’t worry my calves are still freakishly large. Then I took a deep breath and looked up top…then I took a long sigh. My chest, shoulders, and arms have shrunk. Now, I won’t be misconstrued as a runner anytime soon, but I’m losing that bulk that has always been me. Even when I was down in weight for fights, I still had plenty of meat up top. Now, while my upper body may be leaner, my arms are down to 14.5inches (Update: turns out there is an inch of blank tape before the numbers start, so I'm only down to 15.5inches; which still is less than I am usually)! Not quite my style.

I know that on race day, I’m a middle to back of the pack kinda runner. Now while I’d like to change that to ‘frontal’ middle, I know that I’ll never be front-runner. And I’m fine with that, because I have (and plan on in the future) taken consolation in the fact that I’m one of the biggest guys at the finish line. Not the most muscular guy in the race, but usually one of the first heavyweights to cross the line. If I’m no longer that proud mix of muscles and speed, then I’m just some heavy guy running behind skinny guys. I will never be a skinny guy, and that’s fine, I don’t want to be a skinny guy. If nothing else my girth was a good excuse, but it’s not just that. I like being strong. So I have less than a month until the Edgewood 5k, which is where I plan on breaking my PR (26:00). I’m going to devote a good chunk of these next 2-3 weeks powerlifting. And even if I don’t return to my former size, I at least want most of my strength back.

Back to this weekend. The Redlegs 5k. I do still want to run this (if for no other reason, I want the Reds technical t-shirt), but I heard the weather is going to be stormy and I’d like to scrape it in favor of an early start on my weightlifting. It’s going to be difficult intermixing the powerlifting and the run training, and phasing from the emphasis on lifting to running halfway between here and Independence Day. Wish me luck in accomplishing both.

The Highs and Woes

Note: The first part of this post might sound redundant to the Dailymilers who follow this, but I can’t help but share

The Highs

I was in class yesterday morning (and this morning, as I write this) for certification in the city of Edgewood, KY. Many moons ago, back when I was in college. I used to work for the public works dept. in Edgewood. The majority of the work I did was grounds keeping. And Edgewood is beautiful (though not as beautiful as when I worked there, but whatever). Dudley road runs from one end of the city to the other, with subtle slopes throughout, with the killer hills at the ends (avoidable, unless you want them), well kept sidewalks, and intermittent shade. The really amazing thing about this town is how considerate the drivers are to runners. Often, I would reach an intersection slowing to a ‘run in place’ speed to wait for a car to pass, only to be waved on by the driver. As if saying, “why should you wait, you’re bettering yourself, I’m just driving. Go ahead.”

What’s funny is that all those years ago I was working in Edgewood, in the heat wondering why runners bothered to run. Today I completely understand. It was a gorgeous day and the run felt amazing, I probably could have run all day. I ran from the clock tower (it served as my timepiece, since I can’t wear a watch) in Presidents Park down Dudley with the intention of turning around once I reached Freedom Park. However, when I got there I just kept going. Not because a dog was chasing me, not because I was behind a good looking girl, but because my legs felt good and I was really enjoying myself. So I kept going until I reached Woodrun Court. Not knowing how far I’ve gone, or how long I was gone, I just felt it was time to turn around (probably because I was nearing the end of the road, i.e. the hill). Amazingly the run back felt even better, even though it was more uphill. I stopped when I returned to the clock tower reaching it I learned that I had ran for 37min, which was cool and all, but I had no idea how far I had run. I clocked it on my iPhone on the drive back and it registered a 1.81mi, which doubled is 3.6mi. Nice long easy run at a 10:00ish min/mile pace and not once did I have to stop to walk. Not bad considering it didn’t feel the least bit difficult.

I felt so free, no watch, no iPod, no ponytail. I recently decided to start running with my hair loose, and I couldn’t be happier (I grow my hair out for two years at a time to donate). So long as I move at a steady pace and don’t have a strong tailwind the hair stays out of my face, it’s at the perfect length. Now, I’m no Anton Krupicka, but I know the flapping hair caught some eyes at last week’s race. Not to mention I may have been the only runner in Edgewood without an iPod, and I seem to be the only runner on DM without a Garmin.

The Woes

Went home, showered, loaded an old bike my brother gave me into the bed of my truck and brought it to the local cycle shop. My goal was to have it tuned up and ride it for the duration of the summer, just to get an idea as to whether riding was for me. Then if I liked it, then maybe I’d be willing to shell out the cash for a decent entry level one next Spring.

When I got to the shop, the employee took a look at the bike and informed me that in order to straighten the rim, replace the tires, replace the brakes, retune the shifters, and so on, it would most definitely be better to buy a new bike. Now, I really don’t think that he was out to put down the bike simply to make a sale (because I had the same feeling before I even brought it in), but that doesn’t mean I like the answer. Oh well, so much for outdoor biking, looks like I’m stuck at the bike in the gym and swimming for my cross-training; at least for now that is.

Even Newer Kicks

I recently posted how much I love my $7 water shoes. What’s not to love: they were $7, they’re stark white, they’re light weight, there’s no giant heel, and…they’re $7. Well after about 20 miles the sole (at roughly the ball of my feet) was starting to look excessively worn. Granted I’m sure I’ll be able to get at least 100 miles out of them, but I realized that they were going to have a short life expectancy (did I mention they were only $7).

So on Saturday my wife and I were shopping for our friends’ baby showers (yes, I meant plural; apparently babies are the new black) and right next door was a Dicks Sporting Goods (what do you know, you drive a little out of the way to the right Babies R Us, and it just happens). I asked her if I could go in and just try on a few shoes, just to find out the right size, just in case I can find a great price online, you know, just in case. After I tried on a bunch I jotted down the sizes on a set of Saucony Kinvaras (yes, I insist on saying Kinvaras. It is Kinvara, but there are two of them in a pair) I liked and a set of Merrell Trail Gloves I liked. Then she told me I could buy a pair.

I was dumbfounded, I in all honesty, never expected that to happen. She was pushing me towards the Trail Gloves, even though they were the more expensive pair. Probably because she assumed I’d humbly lean away from them because of their price, that and the fact that I raved about them so much after my running class.

After (too) much deliberation, and a few laps around the store (all the while getting funny looks from the other patrons, but who’s going to say something to the 230lb man in tiny shoes). I decided on the Kinvaras. Granted I love the Trail Gloves, and actually like them better, but I know I’m not ready to really rack up miles on a shoe with so little shock absorption. And I wanted a shoe that I could wear in a race the following weekend. So again the rational part of me; the part that told me to take time off during injury, the part that me to research gait and stride, the part that kept me from getting overzealous and overtraining, that part told me to wait on the Trail Gloves. (So yes, I still want them, Merrell feel free to send me a trial pair.)

So I went with the Kinvaras. But before I could make it to the register my wife stopped me and made me put the shoes back. I could get a pair, but not of the neon orange variety. Despite my protests and my argument that I’d be safer in the brighter shoes, I walked out with the green on white pair.

That day was a Saturday, my long run day. So how better to try them out then to run farther than I had since my injury. I went to the (pretty flat) park near my house and churned out 3.4 miles at a quick pace, and felt great afterward.

Was it the flat park or the beautiful day that made me run so quick and easy? Was it the shoes or the placebo effect of the shoes? I doubt it. It was probably just the excitement of both the shoes and the day.

They were light, very light. I didn’t feel myself heel striking, well maybe for a little when I was distracted and lazy. I was surprised as to how small the toe box was. I had gotten used to the roominess of my water shoes. I think this may have contributed to the muscle fatigue in my shins, because I found myself fighting against the upper of the shoe. There was much more cushioning, so I experimented with my footfalls; landing flat, landing on the outside, etc. to see if I could still feel the difference. And I could (yea), so the cushion does not dull my sense of the ground.

Though I do think I’d have run faster if the shoes were bright orange.

Dailymile

I recently joined an online website runners can use to track their miles, speeds, etc. I quickly found out that this website, Dailymile (DM), was actually more of a social network than a tracking database.

I was first introduced to DM through reading about it on other bloggers’ sites. When I first heard of it, I was apprehensive to sign up, due to the fact that I’m not really much of a runner, and didn’t want to be the guy who didn’t belong. I don’t actually recall exactly why I decided to go ahead and create an account, but I’m very glad I did. It has served not just as a visual reminder of how much I’ve run, and how much more I ought to run, but has served as an external reminder. Several of my Dailymile “friends” sent me posts and “motivations” to get me going. I’ve met a lot of nice people on the site, and have received quite a few insights and laughs.

Not to mention, that after I began acquiring friends, on DM, my blog followers grew exponentially (you’re not the only one reading anymore honey, so you can stop pretending that you were in the first place). One in particular, Jillian, convinced me to not give up on my blog posts (which was becoming a possibility), so thank you very much for letting me think what I have to say is worth reading.