The A to Zee of Running and Me

I’m sitting here counting the hours and days until I get the green light to run again. The pain of waiting is much more agonizing than the actual pain of the injury itself. And as I sit here feeling utterly sorry for myself, I think of all the things, good and bad, that I miss about running.

A is for apparel. Technical apparel may seem extravagant, but once you go technical, you don’t go back. Technical apparel is quite simply clothing made from fabrics that offer performance features and benefits that your old cotton T-shirt doesn’t.


B is for blisters. Blisters are nasty and are caused by rubbing and irritation of the skin. For me, prevention is the key and wearing proper socks and good fitting shoes are essential. There’s nothing worse than trying to run with a big fat fluid-filled blister on your foot.


C is for Clean. This is how my mind and body feels after a good run.
 
D is for dexterity. I gained this badge with the ability to change from nightwear into full running gear in the dark, without disturbing or waking my significant other. Also, by being able to remove a long-sleeved jacket or top, while running, without stumbling or running into a tree.


E is for exercise equivalents to running:

• 60 minutes of mowing grass (non self-propelled power mower) -1 mile of running.          
• 30 minutes shoveling dry, fluffy snow - 3 miles of running.
• 20 minutes raking leaves - 1 mile of running.
• 10 minutes scrubbing bath tub and/or shower stall - 1/2 mile of running.
• 10 minutes of vacuuming - 400 meters of running.

F is for fartlek. This is a Swedish word for “speed play", a form of interval training which puts stress on the whole aerobic energy system due to the continuous nature of the exercise. I love speed play.


G is for Gps. If you found yourself alone in the woods with a useless GPS, would you know how to get your bearings?

• The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. At noon the sun will be in the south (in the Northern Hemisphere) or in the north (in the Southern Hemisphere).
• If the moon rises before sunset, the lighted side will face west. If it rises after midnight, the lighted side will be facing east.
• Power lines and railroad tracks lead to civilization. Or something close to it.
• People who are lost really do tend to walk in circles. Keep this in mind if you’re trying to maintain a straight course home. Use a series of landmarks in the distance to stay straight.
• Don’t rely on moss. The old adage that moss always grows on the north side of a tree isn’t really accurate.
• A good tip: don’t head out into the wilderness by yourself.

 H is for hills, there are 5 types:

• The Grind. It’s not that steep, but it just goes on, and on, and on...
• The Short and Sweet (my favorite). Even if it’s steep, this one is over before you know it. 
• The Mock Summit. Whew! That was a rough climb. At least it’s almost over. Oh, wait...no it’s not. Crap!
• The Zigzagger. The cool way it zigzags upward makes up for the pain it inflicts.
• The Wall. If you find yourself wondering whether walking this one might be faster than running it, you’re dealing with a Wall.

I is for ice pack to treat a sore tendon or muscle. I use frozen peas. In a pinch, you can even eat them.


J is for Jooniper Jool, my adventurous alter ego.


K is for kinky. It’s what happens to my body if I don’t run regularly to work all those kinks out.

L is for listening to my body. My body is very good at telling me things relating to physical activity, nutrition, hunger, etc. My problem is actually listening to it and understanding and heeding the messages and signs it is conveying.


M is for mileage. How many miles or kilometers I run in any given day, week, or month.


N is for neurotic. It seems the more you run, the more mentally maladjusted you become about the subject.


O is for organization of running stuff. Running is a pretty simple sport, but when you do it long enough, you tend to accumulate a lot of crap. And the more crap you have, the harder it becomes to find the particular piece of crap you’re looking for. I keep all my running and soccer stuff together, apart from my everyday, non-running things and for the most part, this keeps those frustrating searching frenzies to a minimum.


P is for Gmaps Pedometer. A google mapping application to help record distances traveled and calories burned during a running workout. I find this application invaluable when mapping out new running routes.


Q is for quads. The quadriceps femoris is the strongest and leanest muscle group in the human body. The quads are powerful extensors of the knee joint and are crucial in running.


R is for runner. A runner is anyone who runs or moves the legs more rapidly than at a walk and in such a manner that for an instant in each step both feet are off the ground. Simple as that. Don’t let anyone tell you anything different.


S is for sleep. Sleep is important though Scientists still aren’t sure why, exactly. All I know is that I feel better, run better and get sick less when I’m sleeping well.


T is for toenails, black ones.  Run long enough and you’ll wind up ruining a toenail or two. Whether it’s because your shoes are too big or too small, or the toenail gods happen to be in a foul mood, one day you will peel off your socks and see black where once there was pink. Congratulations! These bruised nails are a badge of honor bestowed upon you for toughing it out. Just don’t flash them in public. Or, like me, you could resort to an acrylic big toenail during flip-flop season.

U is for Underwear. This is a personal subject and I know many runners scoff at the very notion since running shorts have built-in liners. However, I prefer to wear underwear under my shorts and it has to be the “right” pair. There is nothing worse than dealing with the “wrong” pair of underwear while out for a run.

V is for visibility index. When running in the dark or when visibility is poor, I want to be conspicuous. Wearing colors associated with highlighters is smart and keeps me safe.


W is for wet. Whether it's raining or not, I'm always wet after a run. I’ve learned a few things about running in the rain. That my waterproof jacket is not waterproof. That a hat is priceless. That I should always take off every bit of mascara before bed. And that miserable conditions, weathered with the right attitude, can be divine.


X is for X-rated. You really would be amazed at some of the thoughts that can enter your mind during a run.


Y is for Yin and Yang. In a nutshell, Chinese Yin Yang symbols represent perfect balance. Through running, I try to achieve perfect balance of body and mind. This symbol takes on an even greater meaning for me now as I continue to deal with the constricting effects of an injury which has literally ground my running to a full stop.

Z is for zipper as thermostat. Tops, jackets, and vests with zippers are my best friends in inclement weather. It’s amazing how much you can adjust your body temperature on a run simply by finessing a zipper, or zippers, up and down as needed, depending on changes in ambient temperature, direction of the wind, uphill versus downhill running, and so on.

Show Me a Sign

Most road signs are straightforward. They tell you what to do, which direction to go in, where you are etc. But occasionally (and usually unintentionally) road signs can be very funny.


“Litter and it will Hurt”
- Washington State road sign.

“Over the Limit Under Arrest”
- Oregon State road sign.


“Breakaheart Road”
- Nevada State street name.


“That Bull Moose Might Be A Cow’s Beau So Drive Carefully”
- Jackson Hole, Wyoming road sign.


“Attention Dog Guardians - Pick up after your dogs. Thank you.
Attention Dogs - Grrrrr, bark, woof, good dog.” 
- District of North Vancouver Road Sign.


Body signs are not so straightforward, neither are they funny. Acute sport injuries are often obvious and occur in a dramatic fashion but other injuries can creep up slowly and get progressively worse. These often turn into nagging chronic aches and pains which if ignored, can cause serious damage or a long-term problem which is exactly what happened to me. After 11 months of running, I’m now depressingly sidelined with a serious injury. I didn’t even make it to the one-year mark!

It all began back in mid-July while running with what I self-diagnosed as mild Achilles-tendonitis, a result of my latest summer fling with a new pair of runners. It started as a niggling pain in my left Achilles which never completely went away. Some days my Achilles was so fat and red-raw during a run that I could barely walk the next day. So why did I continue to run? I wasn’t crippled or anything after each run. I could walk with a limp and ride my bike, but clearly my sore ankle was telling me: No, don’t run on me--that would be a very bad idea. Still I did not heed the signs and now instead of running and kicking a ball around a soccer field, I am kicking myself after tearing my obviously irritated and weakened Achilles in the first soccer game of the season last Sunday.


Pain is the body's way of identifying an injury and wrenching you away from the stressor to protect you from further harm. To run through it is overriding your body's natural instincts to protect itself, which isn't smart. Pain is injury, plain and simple.

Things change dramatically when you can't run. Stuff comes into sharper focus. And you quickly realize that being able to run healthy is way more important than anything else.


Traditionally, injury prevention focuses on the physical steps you can take to prevent injuries such as stretching, cross-training, massage, rest days, that sort of thing. These are all fine as far as they go, but in a sense they're like the crew of the Titanic focusing on the tip of the iceberg, when the real problem is down deep. Many injuries--perhaps most of them--begin "down deep" in our psyches. Often we get injured because we disregard the warning signs. We try to run through pain. We throw caution to the wind.


In my case, my injury could have been prevented long before it happened. I think all it would have taken was a little willpower. But that willpower is tricky because it flies in the face of many things that I’ve learned from running--to keep at it, to ignore pain, to push through adversity.


Denial is one of the toughest things for runners to recognize because the very nature of the sport rewards us for disregarding pain, sometimes real pain. A smart runner will back off, rest for several days and maybe cross-train. But the runner in denial (ME!) keeps pushing until he or she gets injured.


Related to denial is the ability to differentiate between benign pain and the pain that signals imminent injury. We've all had to deal with a side stitch or sore legs at the end of a long run, but being able to distinguish that kind of pain from the more serious kind of pain is a little trickier. How do you do that? By training your mind to listen to your body. By weighing the options. Considering the consequences. Thinking ahead. This I will do from now on because I’m finally serious about staying injury-free. It won't always be an easy task, but the reward--enjoyable, pain-free running--will definitely be worth the effort.


Is there an injury upside? I think so. I’ve definitely learned an important lesson which is listening to my body and heeding the signs of when to call it a day. The body has a threshold for how much exertion it can handle and I overestimated that threshold and ran through the pain. Foot and ankle care can easily be compared to the foundation of a house: a house without a strong foundation is likely to crumble. I am now more conscious of my limits, of which there are many, and hopefully I will become more in tune with my body, particularly my trouble spots. In the meantime, I am anxiously waiting on a green light.

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign
Blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind
Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?