January 20, 2013 1 Comment

Trigger Point Massage

With Marathon Training, a few aches and pains are to be expected.  I just didn’t expect them to lay the smack down on me after five runs.

Last year I was always about 5 minutes away from being injured.  I could list the reasons that I didn’t hold back; dedication, excessive spirit of competition, sheer stupidity… maybe some are more true than others.  The crux of the matter was that none of the body treatments I received really dealt with the root of my issues.

Cramping in my foot slowed me down and added several minutes onto the Boulder Spring Half in March.

The sore glute and feeling of an ice pick being jammed into the hip forced me into the mountains during marathon training a year ago.  Then it was an achy hamstring, tight calves, sore IT Bands… you name it, I had it.  And I kept running.

I took a few months off at the end of 2012 and focused on stretching and strengthening, hoping the inflammation would subside and I’d be ready for the next big cycle.

Two weeks into Marathon Training for Boston and I was about to be sidelined.  During a mid-length Sunday run with the gang I had to stop twice to stretch my foot because it was cramping again.  My right leg didn’t have the same “lift” as the left and it felt like I needed to pick it up with each step.

Obviously something had to be done, and fast.

A friend recommended Matt Schaub, a massage therapist in Arvada.  I made an appointment and cautiously looked forward to the session.  Standing just inside the door with my coat and purse on, I told him that more massage therapists than I can count have wailed on me; he better not make me cry.  He discussed trigger points and how pain is referred; we agreed to give it a shot and I got on the table.

He found the sore places and gently, diligently, worked to release them.  When I started to tense up he backed off and came at the knot from another direction.  Several times he released about six layers of fascia and tissue before finally getting to the crux of the matter.

I left the room standing taller and with less stiffness than I’ve had in months.

Yesterday morning the glute and IT Band were completely flared up.  I foam rolled and did what self-massage I could but there was no way I would ever get the right angle to release the layers of scar tissue and crap that has settled deep in my body.  Matt worked on me again in the afternoon, spending close to 45 minutes on the glute and methodically getting deeper and deeper into the root of the problem until we both felt the entire leg release.  It was the most magical burst of nirvana I’ve ever had on a massage table.  The pain was gone.  The trigger point was gone.

I left the office with zero pain in my legs.

Fast forward 24 hours.  I ran 18.4 miles with my running partners this morning.  A few times I could feel some tension in the glute but it wasn’t anything like what I’ve experienced lately.  I’ll see him again this week and we’ll work on the next layer of my issues.

He said, “You didn’t get this messed up overnight.  It’ll take a bit to work it out but if you’re willing to commit to the work, we’ll get you moving again.”

I want to be healthy and able-bodied.  Willpower got me through 2012.  Intelligence and paying attention to my body will get me through 2013.

 

Filed Under: Running, Training, Winter 2013 Tagged: , , ,
December 1, 2010

Taper and Goals

Four days until CIM.  Taper week.

Surprisingly, I’m not jumping out of my skin, climbing the walls, obsessively cleaning the house or otherwise freaking out.  I’m actually mostly mellow and kind of in a state of shock.  The fact that there’s still MORE running to be done seems surreal.

Marathon Training started sixteen weeks ago when I decided to get out of my comfort zone.  I wanted to attempt something harder than I’ve ever done and see what happened.  Maybe in the back of my mind I never really thought I’d get here.  Maybe I thought it really would be too hard, and I’d quit along the way.  I was in probably the worst health of my life and coming out of a really bad patch in my marriage.  In hindsight, I don’t know if it was WISE to decide to train for a marathon.  But the process gave me something I could focus on and put energy toward, instead of letting that energy fester inside like a cancer and spin me into crazy-girl.

Right around that same time I started addressing my chronic and debilitating digestive issues.  The diagnosis was Leaky Gut Syndrome, where the intestine becomes permeable and food particles get through the intestinal lining into the blood stream.  My adrenals were shot, there was a chronic low-grade bacterial infection, my immune system was starting to resemble that of an AIDS patient… I was upright and moving through sheer willpower.  Train for a marathon?  You gotta be kidding.

There were a few stops-and-starts in the process, where my body called B.S. and I entered a forced rest.  Over the weeks I’ve changed my diet, swallowed a ton of supplements, learned about rest and recovery and lactic acid and stretching and support and faced a bunch of my own demons.

I looked Failure in the face and saw secret parts of me that don’t serve me anymore.  I released fears and embraced Possibility and Hope.  And I kept running.

Yesterday I visited Jennifer, my awesome acupuncturist over at Dragonfly in Boulder, for a final tune-up before race-day.  After checking my tongue and wrist pulses she looked me straight in the eye and said, “You did it.  You’re healthy.  Everything’s working the way it’s supposed to.”

Marathon Training was counter-intuitive to the healing process, but it was completely right for me.  I stressed my body to the limit and said, “Now, how are we going to build it back up?”  I wasn’t going to stop training unless Someone or Something told me to quit.  Nobody told me to quit and my body didn’t completely rebel, so I kept going.

My final tune-up with Jennifer was a full-body muscle release.  She addressed the tight calves that are causing some plantar fasciitis as well as the knots in my back and my tight hips.  There were some ten needles in my back, three at the base of my skull, four in my scalp at the crown of my head, two in my sacrum and another ten or so down my legs and in my feet.  I looked like a voodoo doll being offered up for sacrifice.  Afterwards I was so relaxed my voice dropped into that super-deep, sexy voice, the one that only happens when my body has been in a state of deep relaxation.

Because I’m having such a hard time holding on to the mental aspect of the race, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my new goals will be.  Throughout the training process there were a lot of conceptual goals that could only be measured through pure gut instinct.  At the race on Sunday there will be a clock measuring my progress.  The clock has no purpose other than to tick off seconds and wait for me.  Therefore, I need a new set of goals.

It would be very cool to get a Boston time in my first marathon, but who knows if that’s even possible.  I would have to come in under 3:45.  Since the journey to this marathon was my original goal, I’m going to stick to focusing on the journey to the finish line, and not the ultimate time.

Number One Goal: HAVE FUN.  No matter what.

Number 2:  Remember my race plan and don’t go out too fast.

Number 3: Hold steady at 8:45 for the first three miles, then decrease to 8:20/mile. For the last two miles, see if I can “turn the screw” a hair and squeeze out a little extra.

Number 4:  Come in under 4 hours.

Number 5: Be upright at the finish line.

Bill and Gwen will be cheering for me.  Gwen will have her bike so that she can maneuver around the city and find me at certain points.  Once I hit the 13.1 mile mark, she’ll probably meet me at the 20 and then at the finish line.  I can’t wait to see her and Bill at the finish line and run into their waiting arms.  Without their passion, dedication and support for this crazy idea of mine, none of this would have happened.  When I doubted myself, they believed in me.  They seemed to know something I didn’t, and I’m actively trying to learn.

So now, through their example, I’m starting to believe in myself, too.

Filed Under: Fall 2010, Training Tagged: , , ,
November 25, 2010

Trail Runner’s Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot

Twenty degrees with 23 mph winds at 7 AM. It felt like a good solid zero-degrees at Doudy Draw, compared to last year when it was about 20 degrees with little/no wind at all.

I dressed in layers. Sweat pants over fleece wicking tights. I wore a wicking tank top underneath a fleece wicking pullover that was topped with my new fleece wicking jacket. My feet were cozy in thick SmartWool socks up over my tights and I dug my warmest hat with earflaps and thick wicking gloves out of the bin. There was no way I was going to be cold today, not after the Epic Fails I’ve had on recent runs that were colder than anticipated. Today, I was ready.

We started out at an easy pace. The few times I started talking the wind shoved words back down my throat and choked me. My face was numb on the windward side, and after ten minutes all conversation in our group died.

At the fork in the trail we went south, knowing that the forest would be more protected from the wind than the plateau on the northern-fork side. Snaking through the trees, we startled a small family of white-tail deer when the wind muffled our approach. They bounded away, as graceful and silent as shadows on the cold earth.

At the top of the trail we headed west up another small hill. Goshawk Trail is a nice extension to the run, adding about a mile and a half to the loop. The early morning sun was directly in our eyes because of the low angle of the sunrise; we were totally blinded. Through slitted eyes I watched for rocks and stepped lightly around them.

The silence was sacred, meditative. We were encased in a magical world of companionship, cold, wind, mountains, and our own thoughts.

As we came off the single-track trail onto the wider dirt road a few miles later, Kathy slowed to a walk. Behind her the others did the same, and finally I saw the reason. Wild turkeys were standing on the road, calling to each other. Our silence broken, we exclaimed at the sheer coincidence of seeing LIVE turkeys on Thanksgiving Day.

They zigzagged across the road a few times before instinct told them to head for higher ground. The wind notched down to a mere breeze and we heard the squawk of their conversation. Their little red hats bobbed up and down as they scampered through the underbrush, and finally it was time to move on.

Thanksgiving turkeys are a national symbol of the day we gather with friends and family, to be together with loved ones while we nourish body and soul. At this moment, the beauty of the turkeys struck me. We didn’t need to sit around a table heaped with expensive food and drink or say grace over the birds’ carcass to give thanks for the magic of our running group; gratitude, grace and thanks were in the hearts and souls of each and every beautiful woman that was represented today by a small family of wild turkeys.

All told there were twelve turkeys that crossed our path, one for each runner in our group. We “pardoned” each and every one, and told the three male runners that caught up to us a few minutes later about our sighting. Suddenly we were a gaggle of chattering hens again, talking turkey, food, cold legs and family.

The solitude of the beginning of the run was so different from the conversation that flowed after the turkey sighting. I was completely at peace in the quietness, most likely due to the long hours I’ve spent training by myself. My pace and breathing was easy, even in the wind, and I broke a slight sweat that didn’t chill me when the wind picked up again.

Back at the car I paused to stretch my calves against the car tire. I haven’t run with the women on a regular basis since I started marathon training. I’ve missed the camaraderie of my gang and the ritual of meeting at 7 AM for an hour, after which we grab coffee and talk some more. I decided to never again do a training plan that keeps me off the trails for an extended period of time. I’ve run trails a total of three times in the past fifteen weeks, twelve runs too little for this runner. I need the solitude of my mountains to feel like a complete person. Today, I filled up my tank.

Filed Under: Fall 2010, Training Tagged: , , ,
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