Me and My Injury at the Doctor

Here’s a recap on yesterday's doctor’s visit.  If you don’t know why I went to the doctor and you care, and I know you do, read HERE.

2:30 p.m. - Enter Mr. Attractive-Young-Sport’s Doc and Mr. Attractive-Young Assistant.

Doc: Hi, nice to meet you what’s going on?

Me: Hip stress fracture…blah blah…recovery…blah blah…training….ass pain…blah blah.

Doc: Let’s take a look and a feel, please lay on your stomach

I do as I am told because I am a rule follower and I’m not as educated as this doctor. Plus, these two have out numbered me and my ass hurts. I don’t have a lot of fight in me.

Doc: {Lifting my legs, pushing on things} Does this hurt?

Me: {Trying not fart} Nope.

Doc:  {Pressing on my pelvic bone inching closer and closer to my woman parts}. Is this tender?

Me: {Gulping, trying to appear as if this happens every day and I’m totally fine with it} - Kinda

Doc: {Exactly a millimeter away from popping my cherry}: Any pain?

Me {sweating}: A bit. Do you have a cigarette?

I  find it funny that you meet someone - a doctor or massage therapist or hooker - within two minutes they are touching skin and holes and orifices that hardly anyone gets to touch. I know it’s their job and that what they are doing is completely appropriate, but it still can be kind of surreal. I can only imagine how it is for guys at their physicals – “Hi I’m your doctor. Now I’m going to insert a finger into your anus, sound good?”

So, you want to to know the verdict?

My cherry is still intact.

The good news is, he does not think I have a pelvic stress fracture.  He thinks it’s bursitis or some kind of high hamstring tendonitis. But, he’s really not sure. Story of my life.

So, he has ordered the magical MRI. I have resisted this expensive test, but I have been told one too many conflicting things over the past few months. I’d like technology to do its thing and give me some facts. At least if I know for certain what I am dealing with I have a better chance of tackling the problem, right? KIP!! (Knowledge is Power).

Here’s the thing. I really wish I had an MRI machine in my house. It would making being a runner so much easier. I mean if Angelina Jolie or Beyoncé can have ultrasounds they carry around when they’re pregnant, I should be able to have an MRI machine. Christmas is right around the corner.

Hoping for an MRI and answers by the end of the week. How’s that for an update?

KIP!

Anything crazy ever happen to you at the doctor, massage therapist, or PT? Not really. Once they were doing the reflex test on my knee and my clog went flying across the room and hit the nurse. That’s it. Oh, and once I had a massage in Mexico that took me to at least third base.

SUAR

Happyness

The kids and I were watching a favorite movie of mine, “The Pursuit of Happyness,” last night.

It’s based on the true story of Chris Garnder who, hard on his luck, becomes homeless with his five year old son. I won’t spoil the ending if you haven’t seen it. While playing basketball with his son, Gardner says:

“Don't ever let somebody tell you... You can't do something.  You got a dream... You gotta protect it. People can't do something themselves, they wanna tell you you can't do it. If you want something, go get it. Period.”

I turned up the volume to about 50 and asked the kids, “Did you hear that?”

Kids: “Uh, yeah. It was kind of loud.”
Me: “But, do you get it? Do you see what he means that you should never give up?”
Kids: “Uh, yeah. Okay. Can we have some more chocolate chips in a bowl?”

Later, after the chocolate chips were put away, and the kids were snug in their beds, I contemplated the quote. When someone tells us we can’t/shouldn’t do something or that we are not good enough, we can have one of two responses:

1. Believe them and prove them right. This is when you give up and think, “Yeah, they’re right. Who was I to even think I could do that anyway?” You see this all the time when a parent, coach or teacher tells a child that they are “bad”. The kid responds with “Let me show you just how bad a I can be,” and lives out the self-fulfilling prophecy.
2. Believe in yourself and prove them wrong.

Guess which option I like better?

Most of the time we are told we can’t do things by people who love and care about us, but want to protect us. They do not intend to be discouraging, they intend to take care of us. I can think of two incidents in my life where I was told I couldn't/shouldn’t do something I really wanted to do.

The first time was when I was 23. After a long application process, I had been accepted into the Peace Corps to go to West Africa (Mali) to teach people about forestry: planting gardens and such. I had absolutely not one minute of experience in this field, but still wanted to go for the experience. My mom, doing the job of being a mother, let me know she questioned if I could and should do this. While I saw her as discouraging me from a dream, she saw it as being a mother bear and protecting her young from what could have been a stressful and miserable two year commitment. In the end, I didn’t go. I’ll never know if this was the “right” choice or not. It was just the road not taken. But, seriously, can you imagine me planting fields in Mali? At least I could do some serious fertilizing!

The second time this happened, was just a few months ago, and you will remember it well if you’ve been reading this blog for awhile. I got a stress fracture in my hip in October 2010. My doctor, a competitive runner, knew I had registered for the Boston Marathon for April of 2011. He supported me recovering and coming back to run the race. I started physical therapy in January with a therapist I had never met before. Within five minutes of meeting me, she told me “Running Boston is not a good idea, I don’t see it happening.”

I was devastated, pissed, destroyed (read HERE). Yet, I also knew she was doing her job, which was to protect her patients and to move them towards recovery in the best way possible. Running a marathon did not fit into her treatment plan. As I began to recover and regain my strength, I eventually got her blessing. Four months later, I ran the Boston Marathon in 4:08. Not my fastest showing, but the one I am most proud of.

Look, Ma! No crutches!

Another reason someone might tell you can’t do something is jealousy. A supposed good friend might feel threatened when you say you want to train for your first marathon, and therefore tell you “I don’t think you can do that. It’s too hard on your body, too much of a time investment, etc.” When she really means, “I couldn’t do that, and if you do I fear I will appear weaker or less than you.”

Then there are just mean people who say you can’t do it because they hate their own miserable lives and don’t want to see anyone else succeed. Or, they just plain like looking down on people and feeling superior.

For me, the lesson in all of this is to dream big, but keep your feet on the ground. Take feedback from people you love, and try to decipher their intentions. Remember people may be trying to protect you, but you need to protect your dream. Above all, “If you want something, go get it.” Don’t be talked out of it.

Have you ever been told you couldn’t/shouldn’t do something you dreamed of? How did you react?

SUAR

Nipple In the Middle

Right now I smell like an armpit that has been rolled in ass. At least Lucky’s not scared off by the stench. I think he rather likes it. Dogs are weird that way. He’s probably eat my poop if I let him.

Today’s brick started bright an early. The plan was to ride for 2:45, but we were faster than expected and ended up with 44 miles in 2:35 with no stops. I’m getting GOOD at eating on the bike!

There was 1,500 feet of elevation gain, so definitely some hill work involved. I like the perfect nipple in the middle of this elevation chart. The white dips look like a pair of 80 year old boobs.

The kids were just rolling out of bed when we walked in stripping off our helmets and lacing up our running shoes. I think they think we are crazy.  They’d rather eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch and watch Sponge Bob. Damn normal kids.

I really wanted to get in in an hour run so I could make this a 3:30 brick. When I get stuff in my head, it is very hard for me to NOT do it. About a mile in my left side (stress fracture side, eek!!) started feeling kind of wonky. Not major discomfort, just some slight pain in the hamstring and left butt cheek. But, this is the type of aching I had prior to my injury, so I don’t want to mess with it.

I played that internal game of, “Am I just being paranoid? How bad is this really? I’m sure I’m fine. No, wait. It’s not worth it. I should stop. Blah, blah.”

This is the very moment that separates a smart athlete from a dumb-as-shit-athlete (DASA).

I have fallen into the DASA category a few times. Pushed when I should not have. I am convinced that it is one of the most difficult challenges we face in our training when we need to back off due to potential injury, fatigue, overtraining, illness. Most of us runners and triathletes are not good at this. We think it makes us inherently weak if we don’t finish our workout or training hours for  the week. We think it means we will not perform well in our race.

Bullshit. Taking care of yourself makes you strong, not weak. It should be priority #1. There is nothing superhero about pushing when you shouldn’t. It  just makes you a DASA.

This doesn’t mean you don’t kick ass during your workouts and reach your limits. There is a time to push because that makes you stronger. But, you have to give your body time to adapt to what you are putting it through. Usually, this is in the form of recovery days. Stress your body, but then give it time to adapt. If not, you may run the risk of overtraining and being injured.

As I continued running, stuff swirled through my head. Crutches. Not being able to race. Crying. Pussy posse. Water running. No eff’ing way. Not going back there.

I stopped. I walked. I was pissed for a minute because I wanted the hour long run, and what I got was a 3 mile run and a .5 mile walk. But then I was proud of myself for knowing when to say when. It might not sound like a big deal, but this was HUGE for me. I am such an overachiever, I never cut myself a break. By the time I got home it was all good.

On top of all the biking and swimming, I ran 30 miles this week. I’m going to rest from running for a few days and focus on bike, swim and yoga.

That’s my wisdom for the day. Now I’m off to mail off all these babies:

And, maybe to watch more of the crazy side-line people chasing the Tour de France riders. It’s one of the only time you get to see full naked butts on daytime TV:

Do you pull back in your training when you need to? Do you always incorporate recovery weeks into your training? I have a recovery week every 3-4 weeks. I usually decrease my training volume by about 20%-30%.

Are you watching the Tour? I’ve been in and out of watching, but it is so motivating!!

SUAR

PS: I know you’ve got a special hidden talent (SHiT) to share. You could win a Shut Up and Run shirt! Check out my contest/giveaway HERE, or at least go read the comments, they are hilarious!!

Running on the Moon– videos

Once upon a time when I was laid up with a hip stress fracture, I wondered if I would ever run without pain again. I actually had dreams of running pain free – in these dreams I would be running and suddenly realize that nothing hurt. It was the best and most liberating feeling in the world.  Then, I would wake up and turn over to find my crutches beside my bed and think “Ugh. Another day on those things. Another day of this no running bullshit.”

It was kind of like when you were a kid and you woke up and thought it was Saturday, then realized it was Tuesday and that you had to get up for school. Major let down. Makes a grown man cry.

It was about that time that I learned about the anti-gravity treadmill – the Alter-G.

This machine, designed for NASA astronauts, allows people to run using just a portion of their body weight (up to only 20%!) thereby greatly lessening impact. The injured can run again! Those stricken with arthritis can walk/run pain free! Safe for seniors! Allows overweight folks to run using less of their body weight.

You may even remember that I wrote about how this amazing piece of equipment as I drooled over the thought of being able to run on an injured hip. I searched around but could never find a place where I could try one out. Until now.

A couple weeks ago Outside PR contacted me. Guess who is one of their new clients? Alter G. And guess who just acquired a new Alter G treadmill? The Life Care Center of Colorado, which is about three miles from my house. What are the chances?? Alter G and I were destined to hook up, but not in the biblical sense.

Using this device involves getting into a pair of neoprene shorts topped with a stiff reinforced fabric that encircles the waist. I love stiff things, so this was perfect. I call this my stiff tutu or fart chamber.

The lower half of my body was sealed in and air was pumped in. It felt good.  Here I am trying to figure out the controls. You can choose the percentage of body weight you want to run at, speed (which only goes up to 12mph. Don’t they know I run a solid 13 mph?), and incline. It can also go in reverse. Fancy.

I couldn’t resist some SUAR footage. If you ever felt bad for thinking I was kind of dramatic and dorky, I give you full permission to  embrace those thoughts after watching this (and no I didn’t really wear my medal and yes I need a tan, a haircut and a root job).

The funniest part was, when she was suiting me up the physical therapist said, “I read your blog and just so you know no bowel explosions in the shorts.” Good thing I don’t get embarrassed easily.

I started at 80% body weight and went down from there. Eventually I was at 20% body weight. At this point you feel you are barely touching the treadmill. For every 10% of body weight you decrease, you should add .4 mph of speed to keep your cardio equivalent. Or something like that. I wasn’t taking notes and should have been.

Getting my groove. Not even a fart escaped, but your lower body is in its own chamber anyway, so I say fart away! That alone is totally worth the $30K that these babies cost.

As you are running on less body weight, a forefoot strike is encouraged.

Then they let Ken try it:

I don’t wish I were injured, but I can only fantasize about how amazing it must feel to have pain with walking/running, then to get on one of these things and move pain free and resume training. Thanks to Outside PR and Life Care for giving me the opportunity!

I wish I could do an Alter-G giveaway. When I am rich from my acting skills, I will buy one and give away one.

Would you want to try this thing? Or have you already?

SUAR

Rebounding from Injury

I’m not sure if you all knew I had an injury and made a comeback. I never write about it. {insert sarcasm}. This is a picture-less post. Sorry. I had to get down to business. No time for meaningless self timer shots of me on the toilet or in the tub.

Okay, maybe just this one picture so we can play a quick round of “which body part is this?” Guess right and I’ll give you a sticker or a Jolly Rancher. Your choice.

That was fun, but now we must be serious.

Jeff from Running Through Phoenix asked me to post a bit on rebounding from my hip stress fracture injury and what my pace/mileage has been like. I do whatever Jeff tells me because I like him, and I feel badly because his ass is chaffed. So, here goes.

Returning to running post injury scared the crap out of me. With Boston looming, I tried not to rush my rebound just because I had a marathon to do in a few weeks. I did a swell job of not letting the pressure of the marathon put me in the danger zone of either reinjuring or delaying my recovery. If I hurt, I backed off. As much as it made me shit bricks, I was prepared to drop out of the race if my body wasn’t ready. One of the biggest hurdles was and is getting my confidence back in my body.

After a successful run in Boston with no pain, I knew I was completely healed from what my doctor calls the “mother of all stress fractures.” I was then free to return to running without too much fear. So, naturally I started putting in 70 mile weeks running twice a day everyday. You guys are so gullible.

What really happened was I chose the half ironman as my next goal because it would give me a marathon-like challenge, but would force me to cross train my ass off. I couldn’t fall into my old habits of running + running + more running = injury.

It is so different doing multi-sport training.  That means I am running much lower mileage than I typically do. I am doing 3 runs a week with only one of them being longer. Last week was six miles and I did that at an 8:30 pace. I told myself to hold back, take it easy and continue to let myself return to running in a smart and civilized way.

You know, self, you don’t have to go balls to the wall with every run. Which is good because I don’t have balls. Even with holding back I found that my pace was pretty much where I left off when I got injured. A regular non-tempo/speed/long run used to average about 8:30. I would venture to say I am fully back to where I was.

It’s true that when you get injured you return stronger. Stronger physically, because you have spent quality time with the pussy posse and run in the pool every f*cking day. Stronger physically because you have cross- trained the hell out of your body and are probably more fit head to toe than you have ever been when you are just a runner. Stronger physically because theoretically your broken bone heals stronger than it was before the injury.

Stronger mentally because you have had to battle through a serious tough patch and then you ran marathon in Boston with very little training. Stronger overall because you are more confident, smarter, more determined than ever to meet your goals.

Here’s the thing. Just because I got injured and learned a lot does not mean I won’t get injured again. I am fully aware that my competitive spirit and type-A behavior pushes me to an edge that can be dangerous.

I will always have to work on the “less is more” approach. I will always have to pull myself back and not overdo it. The only way that I will be successful at this is by holding myself accountable. One of the most valuable things I have learned is that I need recovery weeks every 3-4 weeks. You cannot ramp up over and over again, week by week, until race day and expect to reach the start line not over trained. You have got to pull back and rest to become stronger. I now know this. I now respect this. It might seem counterintuitive, but when you study the physiology of the body you realize it is truly the only way to go. Hell, those pros sleep like 95 hours a day and they are still pros.

But, when the day is done, I try to remember a few things.

• Don’t take yourself so seriously. Training is not your life. Miss a workout? It’s okay. Tunnel vision is stupid. Your life is full of things non-running/biking/swimming related and you need to give those things attention too.
• Do what you love. If training loses it’s appeal, change it up, take a break or re-assess your goals. No one is holding a gun to your head saying you have to complete an event.
• Your value is more than how fast far you run/bike/swim/pole dance.
• It’s just a race. Get over yourself.

Awesome review/giveaway coming tomorrow, so check back.

 SUAR

Winner and Thoughts

The winner of the 110% Play Harder Calf Sleeves is Haley from Climb, Run, Lift, Mom.

Congrats! Drop me an email at shutuprun@gmail.com and I’ll tell you how to claim your prize!

I’m trying to not let Boston consume my every thought, but it’s hard. I’ve been up since 4:30 a.m. hashing through stuff. The journey to get here has been dramatic, long and bumpy. Like I have to tell you that. I will say that although this upcoming trip revolves around “The Boston,” it represents much more than a race for me.

Remember back in January when my daughter made this for me?

She must have had a crystal ball.

The day I found this gift on my desk I was incredibly touched.  I was not, however, convinced I would make it to “The Boston.” At that time, I still had a lot of pain, had been told by my PT I should not run Boston, and could scarcely put in any miles. Our close friends planned on making the trip to see me run Boston and I told them not to buy tickets because I just wasn’t sure I would be able to do it. That sucked.

See the thing is, I’m okay with not PR’ing. I'm okay with walking some. But, I am not okay with doing the race in pain and perhaps setting myself back even more. It was a huge question mark back in January and February.

What a difference three months can make. I am pain free. I feeling twinges now and then, but mostly my left hip feels as strong as my right.

When you’re injured, it’s kind of like when you’re pregnant (minus the growing fetus and the huge boobs and the puking). Everyone has an opinion about you and your situation. I do appreciate most advice and input, but sometimes it’s confusing and overwhelming.

• You’re lucky, you healed so fast.
• What’s wrong with you? It took you so long to heal.
• You must be malnourished.
• You should run barefoot.
• Did you try acupuncture?
• You’re in the wrong shoes.
• Only run on trails.
• Run on the surface your race is on.
• You must have a vitamin deficiency.
• Did you get  bone scan?
• Eat more anti-inflammatory foods, more dairy, less dairy, more protein, etc.
• Stretch.
• Don’t stretch.

The list goes on.

These are all good ideas and things to think about. But, my point is – we heal in our own time and we all make sense of our injuries in different ways. We make a choice whether we grow and learn from what has happened.

I don’t know if I over-trained and that led to my injury. My training plan was reasonable, moderate. My goals were consistent with my fitness level and history. Bottom line is that I am in the highest risk group for stress fractures: female, over forty, thin, white.

I wish I were a stocky black man.

Who knows? I just may be someone who need to run less and cross train more. I am determined to keep running, but am willing to change how I do things in order to stay healthy. Being  a newer runner I got SO excited about my goals and races that perhaps it got away from me and I lost perspective and balance. I am finding my way back to somewhere in the middle.

So, yes, Boston is WAY more than a race for me. It represents healing, strength, overcoming adversity, determination. I did not go it alone. I had you. I had my family, my friends, my faith.

So, thank you. For being there. For raising me up. For believing in me. For supporting me. For being honest when I needed to hear it. For loving me and my poop woes. 

SUAR

The Stages of Injury (AKA Panties Behind the Furnace)

Today was symbolic. I returned my crutches.

I didn’t mean to keep them for so long, but there was a part of me that kept fearing I would re-injure myself and need them again. I am now confident I will not need them again, at least not for this injury. If I fall out of the ceiling of my Southwest flight to Boston next week, I might need them for that.

I noticed on the form I filled out at the grocery store when I “rented” the crutches (yes, you can “rent” crutches then go buy milk all in one fell swoop) that I indicated I would have them for ten days. Upon their return, I had had them for 177 days. So I was a little off. Truth be told, I only really used them for 45 days or so. But I kept them as insurance. As a fall back if the unthinkable happened.

I’m about to get a little deep, so hang on for the ride:

When we get injured it happens to our physical bodies, but it’s really our mind that takes the beating. The stages of injury tend to follow the stages of grief, which makes sense considering that being injured represents the loss of being able to function how you want/need/have to.*

1. Denial – Are you f*cking kidding me? My marathon is in {insert number} weeks and I’ve trained my ass off. There is no way I’m not running this thing, even if I have to crawl. It’s just a pain in my hip. I’m sure I just pulled a muscle dancing on the pole. Or maybe this pain is a figment of my imagination, part of tapering madness. I’m sure I’m fine.

2. Anger – Are you f*cking kidding me? This still hurts, might be worse. Why me? I didn't do anything wrong. Everyone else can run and not get injured. Hell, Dean freaking Karnazes is running across the United States and he never gets injured. This sucks. I don’t deserve this. I pay my taxes, I follow a training plan. I bought the stinking $100 shoes that they told me to buy at that damn store.

3. Bargaining – You are not f*cking kidding me. I’m hurt. I get it. But, I swear if I am healed enough by marathon day to at least complete the race I will never {insert vice: cuss, drink, over train,  do meth, run with scissors, yell at my kids, hide my dirty panties behind the furnace, lick a knife} again. Once I complete this race, I will rest for a really long time and go to the doctor. I swear. Just let me run this race.

4. Depression – (warning: here’s where it gets really ugly). I’m f*cked. I’m out of the race. Hell, I might never run again. I hate swimming and biking and most of all running in the water. I want to run. I only like running and I am nothing without running. I will get fat. I will get lazy. I will lose all of my fitness. Why bother getting out of bed?

5. Acceptance – I can’t race. I can’t even run right now. But, it’s going to be okay. I am still an athlete, I am still a runner, I am just recovering. I will be back. Stronger than ever. Even though I can’t run, there are other things I can do to maintain my fitness. Even though I can’t run, I am still worthy. There is more to me than being a runner.

We all move through these stages at different rates. I wasn’t allowed to be in the denial stage very long because my pain was too intense and an MRI showed the fracture immediately. I also moved through anger and bargaining pretty quickly because the injury was so black and white. I was pissed as all get out, but that just made me more tired. And there was no bargaining to be done. There would be no race, no running.  For quite a few months.

I got stuck in depression for awhile. I’d have good days and bad days. I don’t think I really reached the point of acceptance for about eight weeks. And even then, I ping- ponged between depression and acceptance quite a bit. My acceptance wasn’t just based on knowing I would get better. It was based on knowing I would be okay even if I didn’t.

A theme of this blog is acceptance – not resisting what is. A theme of this blog is also pooping in bushes. I like variety.

One of my most very favorite things about life is that it is constantly changing. If you don’t like it, it will be different soon. If you are flying high, you might crash next week. The only thing you can count on is that things are temporary.

Now go back up and look at that muscle in my arm. There ARE upsides to crutches. And I’m wearing a mask because we are paintballing. Duh!

And, yes, I did hide my panties behind the furnace when I was five (and don’t pretend you didn’t),

SUAR

*For those who want to blast me for even comparing injury to loss – spare me. I know an injury is not the end of the world, and certainly cannot be compared to the loss of a loved one or a serious, life threatening illness. I get that.

Run Rating Scale

Thanks for all the congrats on my paragraph in Runner’s World. I forgot to mention that they asked me to be on the cover, but I told them I’d rather be on page 126, hidden two pages before the end of the magazine. Plus, I felt bad for Kara and how little press she gets.

I ran 13 miles yesterday. Longest run yet post injury. The hip felt great, but again I was plagued by the turd tragedies. At one point I was doubled over on the path while my running companions just watched, offering gifts of toilet paper and pats on the back and asking if perhaps they should call the EMTs. They probably had poop envy ( when a person is constipated and suddenly becomes aware of the surrounding people's ability to go to the toilet whilst they suffer an uncomfortable and painful fate – urban dictionary).

There was one girl I had never run with before. I am sure I made a great impression. Post- run, she probably went home and told her husband, “The strangest thing happened today. I ran with this girl who kept having to hide in the bushes. Then at one point she rolled up into a ball and laid on the path. I think she is part bear cub or something.”

Once again I only have myself to blame. Really, should have turned down that piece of cheesecake last night. And having the period doesn’t help (sorry to my five male readers), although I cannot help that part. If I didn’t have my period I would be either: 1) pregnant 2) too skinny 3) too young 4) or older than I am now. I don’t like any of these options, so I’ll take the period.  Does your stomach get upset when you’re on the rag or is it just me? Chris K., does it?

Overall, it ended up being a three-crap run. I rate my runs not be stars or smiley faces, but by piles. 

 

 

If the Boston rating is this, I am in serious trouble:

 

 

You may be sick of hearing about my great comeback story from hip stress fracture to marathon runner. All in six months. I am even sick of hearing myself think, talk and write about it. But, it is happening and I cannot believe Pixar or someone hasn’t contacted me to make a movie. I could be played by Teddy from Grey’s Anatomy. Clearly, it is just a matter of time before someone buys my story because I am the only person to have ever come back from an injury to run a marathon. No, I don’t know who Matt Long is.

But, let’s face it, my comeback is almost over and will hopefully culminate in two weeks when I run the Boston Marathon. So, you only have two more weeks of my recovery and rehab. Stick with me to the finish because you know you want to know if someone can run a marathon with very little running as part of their training. It is a good experiment and will lend itself to the creation of many new training plans:

Minimal Miles to Marathon Plan!

Shut Up and Walk, Water Run and Bike Your Way to 26.2!

Run Not at All, Run Boston!

SUAR

Full Circle

Tragedy struck and we are having a water bottle funeral today. Freaking dishwasher went crazy hot and did some damage. Why is it always the favorites that get trashed?:

Moving on…

145 days ago I went out for an 8 mile run and returned with a stress fracture. Today I ran for 8 miles, the furthest I have run since that dreaded day of injury. Two months ago I could run for 8 minutes. Today: 75 minutes.

It felt effortless (well, except for those hills where I chanted “Heart…Break…Hill. Heart…Break…Hill” under my breath). Nothing hurt. I am not smiling ear to ear. I am smiling coast to coast. Earth to sun.

I ran west on the peaceful and quiet dirt back roads of Boulder County. I was passed by practically the whole University of Colorado track team. They blew by me effortlessly. My competitive side hates being passed. But, my humble, vulnerable and soulful side doesn't give a shit. I am running. Yes, my pace is about a minute per mile slower than I would typically run. But, I am running. Not walking. Not in pain. Not struggling. I am running and it makes me feel free, competent, capable.

Plus, I don’t want to be a gorgeous, carefree, youthful co-ed who runs 6 minute miles anyway.

The ego is a powerful thing. It wants to pit us against other people and be better. It wants to tell us we are not good enough and berate us for not being the best. It is judgmental and controlling. Yet, it pushes us to go harder, longer and faster. The ego has a time and a place. Yet, one has to know when to put it aside, when it doesn’t serve us well.

Here are today’s epiphanies because I love personal growth and like to shove it down your throats:

• If you are injured, discouraged your endurance is not where you want it to be, or just feel stuck, have faith. If I can go from 8 minutes to 75 minutes, you can too. Whatever you are battling, patience is your friend. When we’re in the thick of hard times (and I’m not just talking about running) we think it will always be this way. It won’t.
  
  The wonder of life is that there is ebb and flow. Highs and lows. Just as much as you can count on the low points, you can count on things turning around and heading up. Your “normal” might be different, but so be it. The only true thing we can count on in this life is that there will be change.
  
• Don’t waste energy comparing yourself to the next guy/gal/transvestite. Use all of your energy to keep moving forward with your goals. It’s overstated, but true: there will always be someone faster, stronger, thinner, richer, fitter, less constipated whatever. There will also always be someone slower, weaker, fatter, poorer, more out of shape, more constipated. The only way you can truly win is when you exceed your expectations for yourself. However that looks.

What talent I have. I can talk poop, farts and in the next breath get all deep on you. It’s a gift I tell ya.

Rejoicing in the high,

SUAR

Needles and Pool Raft

The things we do for recovery.

Today I went in for dry needling at the Boulder Center for Sports Medicine. Ever heard of it? Me neither.

Basically, it’s a practice used by physical therapists to help a particularly stubborn muscle to release. It’s called “dry needling” because no medicine is used within the needle. If you’ve tried rolling, massaging, stretching, icing, cussing, doing a rain dance and crying to relieve muscle pain, achiness and crampiness, but have had no luck,  dry needling could be a solution. The practice, mostly used in Australia, is becoming increasingly popular in the United States. You can read more about it HERE.

I begged my dry needler woman, Cathy, to let me take pictures. Here is the needle.

I should have put a quarter or tampon beside it to show the actual size. It was about four inches long and was to go in my ass. Not up my ass,  just in the muscle. She said they have longer needles for bigger asses. I am not the huge ass (“Hugh Jazz” as Bart Simpson would say when he calls Moes Tavern) category, so I got the four incher (that’s what she said).

I nicely asked her to please take a picture of the needle sticking out of my butt, telling her I didn’t care if my exposed glute was on the internet (the SUAR version of a sex tape I suppose), but she opted for my hamstring. Chicken.

So, here’s what goes on. The very thin, acupuncture type needle goes in. However, dry needling is NOT acupuncture. Totally different philosophy. The needle is moved around within the muscle. If the needle hits a true trigger point there will be some twitching, cramping and deferred pain. You may or may not faint, break into a cold sweat or just say the “f” word and pound your fists like I did. Seriously, it’s not that painful. On the pain scale, I probably only got to a six when she dug into my very tight IT band.

She did about six needles in my ass, four in my hamstring and three in my IT. We were going to do the adductors (inner thigh), but that is the most painful area, so we will do that next week. Needles in the inner thigh. Is that a type of porn? Might need some tequila before that one.

Cathy the Needler said that this practice is especially helpful to release IT bands. Just FYI.

Now I am achy, which is expected. I am going to swim later today and try running tomorrow. I will be very excited if this works because I have been dealing with glute issues for the past six months or so and think they may have contributed to my injury.

Prior to the needling, I saw my doc. Unlike past appointments where I cried and begged him to tell me when I would be better, we spent this session shooting the shit about Boston. He reviewed and okay’d my training plan and could not stop smiling at my progress. Said my body language and whole disposition were both completely different than four weeks ago. It feels might good to be on this side of the injury.

My doc ran Boston in 2008. As he talked about the course, I could visualize myself there, and I kept tearing up with pure and complete joy at the thought of it all. We even hugged. Oh good God!!

His biggest tip for Boston? Pool Raft. My eyebrow raised and I looked at him with my most profound WTF? expression when he said this. He explained that because you take busses to the start so early, you end up waiting around forever. His ass became frozen from sitting on the concrete and grass for so long, and it sucked. He noticed the Boston veterans brought deflated pool rafts with them to sit on. Target – $2.00. Good tip for any marathon!  I’m all over it.

In 40 days I will be sitting on a deflated pool raft in Hopinkton wearing Goodwill throw away clothes and some kind of cute running outfit and getting ready to experience and obtain this long awaited goal. It has come at the price of many ups and downs, tears, uncertainties. I think that makes it all the more sweeter.

Off to Tarjay,

SUAR

Personal Acknowledgements

• To the lady in front of me at the grocery store: The lines were six people deep. You had a huge cart full of groceries. I’m not sure why you chose to split your groceries into four different purchases, using four different forms of payment. But, thanks for giving me the extra 25 minutes while in line to read about Justin Bieber in People magazine. I’m just glad I didn’t get Bieber fever.
• To the Egyptian man who named his baby “Facebook.” Mean, just mean.
• To Dean Karnazes: Thanks for the email letting me know about your new Run Across America.

From Him:

I liked having personal notice.  But, I did see it all over the news. Wish you’d come through Longmont so we could rendez-vous like old times. Don’t even pretend it wasn’t as good for you as it was for me.

• To my hip: Thank you you bad ass mother f*cker for letting me run 6.2 miles today. But, left glute, WTF? Don’t you start acting up too just because hip is playing nice.
• To son, Sam: Thank you for rubbing your sister’s head today right after I painstakingly fixed her hair into a style she could live with and not whine about for the next five hours. Also, thank you for wearing your robe and aviators around the house because it makes me love you even more if that is possible. Look out Hugh Heffner. Sam’s coming to take your girls.

So, here’s the big question. Do you ever use the 15 item express lane when you have more than 15 items? If I have up to 20 I use it, especially if no one is in line.

What’s the funniest/stupidest name you’ve ever heard, besides Facebook?

Also, ever had a celebrity meet up or sighting?

SUAR

No Snooping

Things are definitely looking up. Even Lucky, the three legged, one eyed, ball-less dog knows it (at least he hasn’t yet lost his tongue). I am not a professional photographer, but clearly I should be.

My week:

Monday: Ran 5.35 miles (run 10 mins, walk 2 mins)
Tuesday: Rest  + 1 hour of PT
Wednesday: Ran 5.5 miles
Thursday: Swam 2100 yards
Friday: Ran 4.1 miles
Saturday: Will bike 90 minutes
Sunday: Will do 90 minutes hot yoga

What is a girl to do when she can finally run again? Get new shoes.

All you minimalist shoe lovers, I see you cringing. I’m not ready to go there yet. These are actually the shoes (Mizuno Wave Inspire 6) I have been in for awhile now, including running very successfully in them pre-injury (BQ). I was told during my gait analysis that they are a good fit for me. Since I have increased my cadence I am working on moving towards a more mid foot strike and I can do that in these babies.

Plus, they have a lime green color in them and that reminds me of margaritas and vodka tonics and that makes me happy. And, the shoes were reduced from $100 to $53 (Running Warehouse), so I have an extra $46 to spend on margaritas in Costa Rica next week.

Can you freaking believe I am running? I am still pinching myself. Four months from yesterday I was diagnosed with my hip stress fracture and could barely walk. This week I ran 14.95 miles and I’m going to round that up to 15 miles because I deserve to round things up after the hellish past four months.

I am here to tell you that if you are injured, it will get better, but you have to be very diligent about your recovery. Strength train. Stretch. Do any and all cross training that is safe for your injury. Eat well. Sleep a lot. Cry when you need to, but don’t stay there long. Persevere. Know it is temporary. Have goals and meet them.

I sent my Boston or Bust training plan to my exercise physiologist and doctor to review. I wanted to make sure of two things:

1. This plan was conservative enough to not hurt me
2. This plan would prepare me adequately so when I run in Boston I won’t be comatose on a stretcher with my hip in a plastic bag at aid station #6.

Basically, I max out at 24 miles/week with my longest run being 13 miles. And, then there is shit load of cross training. Feedback from the exercise physiologist was informative:

“I think this plan looks very good, I would encourage you to continue with walk breaks throughout your runs, especially your long runs. I think a 9 minute run, 1 minute walk or 14 minute run 1 minute walk would serve you best for your training and the Boston Marathon itself. I think 13 miles is adequate for a long run for you as well.

I’d encourage you to lengthen some of your non-running workouts in order to do some workouts in the 3-4 hour range.  The purpose of these longer workouts is to prepare your body to exercise for that duration. I think you’d be better served to add duration to your cross training than to add more running.

If it doesn’t bother you, you could also add in a longer walk or hike. The Japanese and Korean style marathon training programs typically include a lot of long walks to build up time on the feet with a low impact activity. I think some 45-90+ minute walks or relatively flat hikes could be a good addition so long as they don’t bother you. I would have you do any long walks on Mondays in place of or in addition to water running/swimming.”

I was especially interested in the Japanese/Korean style of marathon training. This was new information for me.

And, as if it couldn’t get any better, tonight is my birthday party, so if you could be there I’d appreciate it. Ken sent out an Evite saying, “Leave the kids at home and come celebrate all things Beth!” Guess that means we celebrate running and bodily functions and social work and Athleta and mothering and drinking coffee/wine and blogging and hot baths and Dean. But not hot baths with Dean, unfortunately.

Don’t get all carried away. Today is not my birthday. It’s Tuesday, 2/22. You can save your birthday wishes for then when I remind you again.

One final perk of the day. Got this email today from a reader. It was simple and to the point:

“I sneezed so hard I pooped a little. Would that be considered a snoop?”

Hoping I don’t snoop at my party,

SUAR

PS: Don’t forget my Butt Shield Giveaway!

I’m Too Tired To Resist

I will not let this blog become a forum for whining, complaining, and moaning. Yet, sometimes this girl has got to BITCH!

You all know me well enough to know I’m a fighter. No doubt. Give me a goal, a challenge and I show up, gloves on, ready to rumble. I honestly can’t think of a time I set my mind to do something and didn’t complete it or have my “happy ending.” ( not in the massage parlor sense, although that sounds fun).

That said, this hip stress fracture has taken me to my knees. It has been nearly four months since that fateful day when I went out to run eight miles and hobbled home knowing something had gone terribly wrong. Four stinking months. During that time, you have been witness to my attempts to keep up my endurance. From endless water running sessions to yoga to dates with my bike trainer to  laps swum up and down the pool. You watched me attempt eight minutes of running on January 10, and cheered me on the whole way. You gave words of encouragement when the pain returned and got behind me again (although not too close) when I had my first “good” run on January 24.

Today I sit here discouraged and humbled. I am reminded that healing and recovery are not linear processes. There are bumps and swerves in the road. I can be the most motivated and disciplined person, but that does not mean I can run on a hip that is still damaged.

Giving up? Never. This week I kicked some ass in the pool and on the bike. Today was 3 miles of run/walk, 21 minutes of that running. I’m still busting it out and hoping for the best.

My lesson for this week, however, is acceptance. Mind you, acceptance does not mean apathy or giving up.

“Some people confuse acceptance with apathy, but there's all the difference in the world. Apathy fails to distinguish between what can and what cannot be helped; acceptance makes that distinction. Apathy paralyzes the will-to-action; acceptance frees it by relieving it of impossible burdens.” – Arthur Gordon

Acceptance simply means a willingness to stop resisting what is. My unhappiness this week has stemmed from me trying way too hard to make things different. Trying to control it all. In order to stay sane and to be content, I need to let some of that control go.

I’m injured- and so it is.
I’m limited - and so it is.
I’m  frustrated -and so it is.
I’m in pain -and so it is.

I accept these feelings and the situation because it's there, it's happened.  Now, I decide what I want for my future and what steps I will take to create it.

“If you relax your mind into every situation exactly the way it is and accept that fact without any ifs, ands, or buts, then you can gain peace, self-acceptance, and the ability to allow solutions. Otherwise, you are locked in that place of your past behaviors which created your present reality.” (source)

I’m sick of this injury shit. And, so it is.

Good news! Bright spot! We will be headed to sunny Costa Rica at the end of the month where we will climb the Arenal volcano, bathe in the hot springs, zip above the forest canopies, take a catamaran out to see the sea turtles and whales, eat fresh fruit until it comes out our asses, drink some of the finest coffee on earth, and take time to heal in all senses of the word. This makes me happy. This I can accept.

What do you need to stop resisting and start accepting? Cause you know there’s something.

Keeping it honest,

SUAR

PS: Reading a great book, The Room. Anyone read it?

Gratitude Attitude

Today I was thinking a lot about gratitude and how it relates to attitude.

And, they both rhyme! Gratitude, attitude. Other words that rhyme:

vagina, china
Britney Spears, bring me beers
penis, hygienist
anus, gayness

A recurrent self-help theme over the past ten years or so has been to be thankful, to show gratitude. In doing so, one supposedly gets perspective on all that is good in his/her life and minimizes feelings of negativity about what’s not so great.  Keep a gratitude journal, they say. Write down five things every day that you are thankful for. Focus on the little stuff because it’s in those moments that life is truly lived.

Practicing being thankful actually dates way back to biblical times:

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God. (Thessalonians 5:18), and numerous other verses that I don’t know because I don’t read the Bible very often.

The thing about gratitude is, it’s terribly easy to do when things are going great. Conversely, it’s a royal pain in the ass to do when things suck. That said, I think the true measure of someone's character is found in the dark times. It’s easy to be strong, upbeat and on top of your game when it’s all going swimmingly. It’s much tougher, however, to keep your wits about you and your attitude bright when you’re under that dark cloud of doom.

I don’t know about you but I want to kick someone in the head when they tell me to count my blessings when I’m feeling down. What f’ing blessings? Can’t I just wallow in self pity?

Truth be told, however, switching over to gratitude brings a change in attitude (more rhyming). Remember that the next time you’re feeling particularly crabby.

Here’s where I found gratitude today as I ran in snow and 8 degree temps (I look like I’ve been crying hysterically or smoking pot. I swear, I wasn’t doing either. I think my eyeballs froze):

• I am thankful I am not any uglier today.
• I am thankful I can run for 30 minutes today. Three months ago I could not run for one minute.
• I am thankful I have the resources to go to PT, to see a doctor, to get massages. Not everyone can and does have this at their fingertips.
• I am thankful I can swim, run with the pussy posse in the pool and do yoga. My body is asking me to be gentle with it and this is how I can respond.
• I am thankful it’s cold because it is winter and it is supposed to be cold. Without cold there would be no feelings of orgasmic ecstasy when it got warm again
• Most of all, (gritting me teeth here) I am thankful for this hip stress fracture. Bullshit.  NO. Not thankful for it. Can’t say that. But, I have learned some lessons from it. It has been a reminder that balance is needed in all things. If you forget that, you will be harshly reminded and it might be too late. This is an analogy for life as we know it. Get out of balance in any area: family, friends, food, alcohol, spirituality, work, exercise – and it will eventually bite you in the ass.

I got bit hard. And, it still hurts.

Sometimes we’re under the illusion that we can keep it all up. That we’ve got it all under control. However, we may be barely holding it together. Just by the skin of our teeth. On some level we know this, but we ignore it. Deep down it causes us anxiety. Maybe we don’t sleep or eat well. Maybe we lash out at those around us. We know the straw will break the camel’s back if we don’t find more balance.

We get caught up in the more is more cycle. It’s like we're so steeped in our fears of being incompetent, that we go crazy over- compensating. More training. More money. More activities. More square footage. More food. More dieting. More texting.

More has gotten the reputation for being better. But, in actuality and paradoxically, less is more. Trust me on this one.

You know how I like to bring out my favorite little book sometimes for inspiration. A Touch of Wonder by Arthur Gordon.

I love what he said about once meeting Margaret Mitchell who wrote “Gone with the Wind.” Ms. Mitchell reported that the writing of GWTW was going well until she read the manuscript of “John Brown’s Body,” another Civil War classic. Ms. Mitchell was so intimidated by the the depth and content of writing, that she was paralyzed. She said, “John Brown’s Body gave me such a  terrible case of the humbles that it was months before I could find the necessary faith in myself.”

Funny thing is, she wrote freaking Gone with the Wind, and I’ve never even heard of John Brown’s Body.

Moral of the story of all of this rambling: Never underestimate your abilities, your power. Keep life in balance and have faith. Find gratitude even when things feel hard, very hard.

Going to find some eye drops,

SUAR

Arm Wrestling at the Cafe

One of my favorite things to do on a Sunday morning is to go out for breakfast. I especially love heading up to the mountains and finding some  log-cabinish, out of the way spot where the locals hang.

So, this morning we headed up to Allenspark, which along the Peak to Peak Highway on the road to Rocky Mountain National Park. Today was especially memorable because my brother and nephews are in town from D.C.

Saw this guy on the way. I named him bighorn because I am clever:

Ate at the Meadow Mountain Café, tucked away in the winding roads near Long’s Peak, one of Colorado’s highest moutains.

Might look dumpy, but it’s tasty.

Had myself the Meadow Mountain two egg omelet cause I like to order the entrée that is named after the restaurant. Yes, this means at Chilis I get the chili.

Sam and my dad did some arm wrestling because that’s what the locals do. You can tell that I get my incredible strength from my dad. He his clearly kicking Sam’s ass:

Nice signage in the bathroom. Guess you’re allowed to flush only when you blow it up SUAR-style:

We passed the place where Ken and I got engaged 17 years ago (St. Vrain Mountain). It may not look like much, but it’s 12,000 feet and with a 40 lb pack, not so easy.

He popped the question on top of the dumpster:

Only problem with these early morning breakfasts up in the hills is everyone feels really sick on the way down. I love kids, but one drawback is they throw up a lot. I am not a fan of vomit.

Hip update. After a tough elliptical session and yoga on Thursday, 30 minutes of running on Friday and hiking yesterday, my hip was pissed. Today I am discouraged and am drowning myself in omelets and pancakes and coffee. Oh, gods of healing, when will you fix me up just right? I’m on a schedule you know. 11 weeks and counting ‘til Boston. Will I be ready?

Today I found myself Googling, “training for marathons without running.” I think that is one of the sure signs you might be in trouble.

How was your Sunday morning? Are you a big fan of going out for b-fast?

From the land of snow and sun,

SUAR

Play By Play

It’s a wine, Chipotle and movie kind of night. I took a hot bath, cut myself shaving and put on my short robe. That’s when the neighbor decided to come over to talk about his lost hearing aide. Did you know he dropped it somewhere near our backyard? Seems the minute you put on a robe and settle in for the night, there’s a knock at the door.

I’m not one to ignore a neighbor at the door, but I’m also not one not change my appearance for a neighbor at the door. So, I answered in my short robe and with blood dripping down my leg from the shaving incident. Hair in ponytail, glasses on. Hell yeah, it’s Friday night and I’m ready to rock and roll. It takes a very confident woman to post this photo:

The day? How did my day go?

6:30 a.m.: Put on running clothes, woke up kids. Woke up kids again. Fed dog. Fed guinea pig. Started coffee. Took fish oil, calcium, multi and my newest addition - Move Free. No, it is not a stool softener. It’s a joint helper. Glucosamine and all that.

7:00 a.m.: Waffles with cinnamon sugar and bananas for the kids. Cinnamon raisin bagel with almond butter and coffee for me.

7:30 a.m.: Checked emails. Blogs. Glanced at the Denver Post.

8:00 a.m.: Tried to finish up a report for work and organize a running clinic I’m hosting.

9:00 a.m: Met Joie at a local trail for a run. Did 5 x (walk 4 minutes, run 6). I had some pain, but my form was okay. Total of 4.5 miles with 30 minutes of running. Progress? I think so. I may just beat this damn hip stress fracture.  Love this timer shot that makes us look like giants since the camera was sitting on a low tree stump. Me on the left: today is not my photogenic day. But, really, no day is.

10:30 a.m.: Starbucks for coffee and girl conversation. Tits, ass, periods.

11:30 a.m.: Contemplated a family trip to Mexico or Costa Rica for a mid-winter sunshine and bikini break. Started researching options and immediately felt better about my life.

Noon: Lunched on spinach salad and zucchini rice casserole. Plus one chocolate chip/butterscotch chip cookie. Bad gas pain after. Wondered if I’m lactose intolerant.

12:30: PT exercises while watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Reunion. Thought Camille seemed particularly psycho and I obsessed over Taylor’s lips.

1:00 p.m.: Peppermint tea. More vacay research. More report writing.

3:00 p.m. Picked up kids.

4:00 p.m. Almost ready to book Mexico. But, wondering of Costa Rica would be better.

5:00 p.m. Aforementioned bath and shaving incident. Discussion with neighbor about hearing aide. He will pay my son $100 if he finds it. His dog threw up in our yard. No problem, I’m sure Lucky will eat it for dessert later.

6:00 p.m. Placed Chipotle order online. Chicken burrito with pinto beans, cheese, rice, guac. About 96,000 calories. I don’t care. Poured a glass of wine and sent Ken out for food.

7:00 p.m. Blogging for your entertainment and boredom.

You don’t have to tell me. I know my life is fascinating. Every minute of every day.

Ever been to Mexico and/or Costa Rica? Recommendations?

We’re thinking about the west coast of CR in an area called Manuel Antonio. It’s a national park with all kinds of cool stuff to see and do. Before I die I want to watch monkeys and sloths swinging around while I eat fresh fruit and stare at the ocean.

Off to bite into my Chipotle,

SUAR

Go Ahead, Make Mistakes

“Would you like me to give you a formula for success? It's quite simple, really. Double your rate of failure. You are thinking of failure as the enemy of success. But it isn't at all. You can be discouraged by failure or you can learn from it, So go ahead and make mistakes. Make all you can. Because remember that’s where you will find success.” -Thomas J. Watson

I’d have to agree with Mr. Watson. The way I see it, when you “fail” you have two choices:

1. Cry. Have a pity party. Give up. Give in. Be the victim. Stay down.
2. Get back up. Know failing again is a possibility. Try anyway. Never lose sight of the goal, the prize. Keep the faith when you really don’t have a reason to do so. Be the exception. Never be the victim of your circumstances. Take charge.

Today I ran. You might recall I tried last week, but I had too much pain. I was so discouraged. I crawled back into the water with the pussy posse (for those new to the party, I have a hip stress fracture).

Pain today? Yes, there was some pain. But, much less. I’d give it a “3” on the pain scale. It was the first time in 106 days I felt like myself again.  For 20 minutes. Walk 5, run 5, walk 5, run 5, walk 5, run 5, walk 5, run 5, walk 2. A total of 42 minutes and 3.5 miles.

Did I tell you I ran today? Tears sprang from my eyes as I felt like a runner again. I laughed/worried as I felt that familiar stirring in my gut that means stuff is moving (and I hoped I wouldn’t crap my pants). The icy wind stung my face. My legs turned over at 180 strides per minute (yes, I counted). My feet were light, my hips centered. YES! This is what it is all about.

Today I ran and it wasn’t in the water and it didn’t hurt like a mother f*cker.

You know how you have turning points? Those moments when you reap the rewards of all the shit you’ve been experiencing and all the trials you’ve been undergoing? I had that. I felt that.

I could not wipe the smirk off of my face. I stopped for coffee at a small corner store. I praised the coffee man for the warm, steamy cup he handed me. He said, “I live for smiles like yours. Go take that out in the world today and see who else’s day you can make better.” He waved and touched his heart as I drove away. I swear he did. You don’t get that at Starbucks. And, for just a moment in time it all felt perfect.

In the smallest of ways, I AM BACK. I felt that very subtle glimmer of hope. You know the one. You’ve had it too.

This wasn’t taken today (duh!) but you get the idea.

And, haven’t you missed my poop antics?

Shit yes, there have been many setbacks since October. And, there will be more to come. But, the point is, failure (setback) upon failure upon failure brought me to this day. To 20 minutes of “okay” running where my hip didn’t hurt and there wasn’t a grimace on my face from the pain.

20 minutes to Boston, right?

A reader emailed me today and said her kids had been slightly appalled when she got her SUAR sticker in the mail. After all, “shut up” is a bad word. They apparently have taken on the nasty habit of using “Shut Up and...(insert verb here)” throughout the day. They even drew a picture to symbolize the phrase:

Priceless. I like to think I am negatively influencing children, one kid at a time.

Shut up and shit! Shut up and masturbate! Shut up and pay a hooker!

Yeah, it’s true. We might be in last place if we don’t Shut Up and Run. But, last place or first place, the point is that we tried. That we did what we said we were going to do. That we weren’t afraid of failing. That fear never held us back.

On my way,

SUAR