Memo To Note!

I learned a whole lot from my failed engagement.  If you don't feel like clicking the link, and you don't already know my story, here's a synopsis:

1. I registered for the Savannah Rock 'n' Roll Marathon.  My first full, it was to be. Why I wrote that like Yoda? I don't know.

2. I trained for about a month.

3. I managed to snag myself a thrice misdiagnosed tibial stress fracture.

4. I stopped running for 7 weeks.

I've read/heard that there isn't usually a good predictor of future stress fractures.  Basically, it's hard to know how much your body can take until it tells you, "That's it!" in no uncertain terms.  In my experience, stress fractures can be difficult to diagnose, too.  So, I'll share what I learned about and from my injury, with the hope that it might help someone else (or at least help my Mickey Mouse Clubhouse soundtrack-filled brain to retain information for longer than a day).

KNOW THYSELF
Runners always seem to tell each other, "Listen to your body."  You know why?  Because it is really, really important to do so.  You are the only one who knows how much pain you're in.  You are the only one who knows exactly how you feel.  It is so vital to know what is right, what is weird, what is totally off, and in most cases, nobody else can give you that information about yourself.  When my calf muscles started hurting in early July, I was bothered by the pain, but I knew it wasn't due to a serious injury.  I did pay attention to the warning signs, but stretching and rolling and rest didn't help, so I just kept running.  When the pain worsened and moved, I knew I had injured myself, but I listened to the "doctors" who said I could keep running. Bad idea.

DON'T BE A BULLY
Nobody likes a bully.  Chances are, you don't steal people's lunch money, call them mean names, or force them to do things they don't want to do.  But you might still be a bully.  Maybe I'm the only one whose self-talk can get pretty ugly, but I doubt it.  Don't let yourself talk to yourself like that!  Forcing your legs to run another mile (or 10), insisting that your brain ignore all pain signals, reminding yourself that other people can easily do what you're struggling to do are all excellent motivational tools unnecessary bullying tactics that can lead to or exacerbate injury.  Do. Your. Best.  Giving more than 100% effort is mathematically impossible.

WHAT WOULD _______ DO?
For me, that blank is filled with the words, 'my mom.'  Maybe your blank person is your dad, spouse, trusted friend, a doctor, or a nurse.  My mom has always been an awesome advocate, diligent researcher, and brave when it comes to standing up to doctors.  If I had asked myself this question during my first appointment with the "doctor" who gave me a cortisone shot for bursitis, I could have saved 2 weeks of non-running time.  See, my mom would have insisted on an MRI at that first visit.  She would have made absolutely certain that the "doctor" knew all the details of the problem, even if it meant telling him a 3rd or 4th time.  I let myself believe that he had listened and understood, even though he contradicted that belief several times.

Not my MRI image, but looks similar.  Sort-of.  I can't tell if this picture is of a R and L leg, or one leg from different angles.  Either way, my stress fracture was near where the arrows are pointing, on just the one leg.

THE TRUTH ABOUT STRESS FRACTURES
I feel like I learned more about stress fractures through my experience than anyone at the Orthopaedic doctor's office knew.  There's the fact that the nurse, when she saw me after my diagnosis, actually (truly, I'm not making this up) asked me how to spell the word 'stress' (Seriously.  She thought it was strest.), plus the absence of the hop test, and the "doctor" telling me that it was a "highly unusual" place for a stress fracture.  In addition, more than one professional I spoke with before being seen tried to convince me that an x-ray would show a stress fracture.  It doesn't, until it has healed.  I have no medical training, but I still feel confident telling you these truths:

• Tibial stress fractures can occur anywhere on the tibia, not just the lower shin. 
• Stress fractures hurt, a lot, but not necessarily as bad as you might expect.  Lots of people continue to walk and run after this type of injury.  Don't.  
• Usually, muscle pain means muscle weakness.  Muscle weakness means the bones aren't getting the support they need.  This is why running through pain can lead to further injury.  Get it?
• A stress fracture can only be positively diagnosed with MRI.  I would probably get the science behind this fact all wrong, so just trust me.  I read a lot of articles, and talked to 2 imaging technologists who confirmed this.
• Stay-at-home-moms almost never have their hands free to use crutches.  
• It is not safe to carry your 18-month-old on your back while walking with crutches.

IT'S ALL MENTAL

Not the stress fracture, the recovery.  A runner unable to run is like a singer without a voice.  Like a guitar without strings.  Like brewing coffee without water.  Frustrated.  Devastated.  Hurt.  Depressed.  I feel like I went through more pain, mentally than I did physically.  I won't lie and say that I'm okay now (especially as I type this, while I have the live streaming coverage of what I thought was my marathon open in another window) but I am much more okay than I thought I could be.  This race was not ever mine.  I shouldn't have been at that starting line this morning, because I would have been if that was the case.  Since my injury, I've volunteered at two races and one long group run.  I started a local chapter of the Moms RUN This Town group.  I watched a friend cross the finish line of her very first 5k, and virtually followed another long-distance friend as she completed the Couch to 5k training, which will culminate today!  At least partly due to my decision to register for the Savannah Rock 'n' Roll Marathon, many people get to run with my amazing sister as their pacer.  She gets to help all of them meet their 4-hour finish time goal.  My dear friend and training partner will run her first marathon, and even though I'm not next to her, I know she's rockin' it and I couldn't be happier for her.  All of these facts have helped me to heal.  I've learned that my being a runner is about so much more than the miles I run.

About to set off for my first run in many weeks.  It hurt.  I walked for another week.

What have you learned, lately?

Jeremiah 29:11

*There is exactly one person on this planet that will immediately get the title of this post.  So, I'll try to explain.  One time, ~10 years ago, some family members and I were in line for a ride at Islands of Adventure.  A very intense-looking fellow briskly walked through the labyrinth to get to the front of the line, and as he walked, he poked his index finger into the air above his safari hat and loudly said, "Memo to note!  Always use Fast Pass!" It was hilarious to us at the time, although as I type this and grin at the mental picture, I can also see in my mind's eye the blank, confused look on YOUR face.  Probably I should move this tidbit to the end.  And put it in even smaller type.  And change the title.

Na Na Na Boo Boo?

You know how when you tell someone you love dearly something- like, where you think a lost item is, or that their bike is going to get rusty from being left on the porch because the rain gets there, too or that they can't trust a certain friend, and then it turns out you were completely right and you find the lost item, the bike gets rusty, and the friend commits a blatant act of betrayal, but you don't want to stick out your tongue and gloat about being right because you love the person dearly and you don't like to see them suffering?(Or . That sentence went on so long, I'm not sure whether it ended up being a question or a statement.)  This is like that.  Well, sort-of.  I mean, I don't love Dr. Schmoctor, but I do love running (dur).  I probably don't care that it might hurt his feelings or damage his credibility with his other patients if I limped marched into the office and waved around my MRI results while chanting something like:

You're not a doctor but neither am I

You're not a doctor but neither am I

You didn't want to order an MRI

You didn't want to order an MRI

You said my problem was bur-si-tis

You said my problem was bur-si-tis

That's what we call a swing and a miss

That's what we call a swing and a miss

Sound off!

You were wrong

Wrong Wrong

Sound off!

I was right

Right Right

Na na na na BOO BOO!

I'm not really one to brag, though, about being right.  It is enough to know that I have proof that I told him so.  I told everyone so!  

Since I've been very grumpy whiny busy eating chocolate focused on other things and haven't written a blog post in a while, I'll sum up for you. 

7/4: Flat white flip-flops are the only shoes that match my 4th of July party outfit.  My calves hurt after standing all day in them.

7/8: Marathon training starts, despite my still-hurting calves.

7/9-8/10: Marathon mileage buildup at a totally safe rate.  Seriously.  Calves hurt at the beginning of each run, usually felt better a few miles in.  Around the beginning of August, I took a few days off because my left calf was hurting really bad.  I had a few bad runs because of the pain, but I could still run.

8/10: 12 mile, hilly run.  My left knee started to hurt during the last 3 miles.  Took a couple of days off.

8/21: 1st Chiropractor appointment.  Knee and calf had still been sore, despite only running twice in 11 days. Chiropractor convinced me that the problem was my hips, which makes perfect sense.  She stuck some KT tape under my knee, cracked me from top to bottom, and told me I could run.

8/23: Ran, it hurt.

8/24: Ran, it hurt much, much, much worse, and in a different spot.  My knee felt okay, but my calf and upper shin hurt very badly.

8/27: 2nd Chiropractor appointment.  Same diagnosis, same treatment.  She did check for signs of a clot in my leg since I told her that my left calf was so sore.  Too much pain to run, too much internet reading to ignore the signs of a stress fracture.

9/4: Dr. Schmoctor diagnoses my pain as bursitis, despite the fact that bursitis is usually more knee and less shin.  Injects me with cortisone, says I can run after 2 days, when I should be pain-free.

9/4 (later): Solar Cortisone flare, lots and lots and lots of pain and swelling.

9/6: Pain back to normal level, I run.  It hurts, but I don't care.

9/6-8: Pain much worse

9/10: Pain back to normal level, I run again.  It hurts a lot.  I care a little.

9/13: Second visit to Dr. Schmoctor, he admits that if it had been bursitis, I would be completely without pain.  Orders an MRI.  I don't ask whether or not I can run, because I'm sure that I shouldn't.

9/20: MRI.  It's an even louder "wowd" than I had expected. I fall asleep for 2 minutes at a time, several times throughout the procedure.  Impressive, no?

9/23: Baby's 18-month birthday!  My old friend Will's 34th birthday!  Terrible, awful, frightening migraine!  Phone call on behalf of Dr. Schmoctor with the MRI results.  "Mrs. Knowitall?  You have a stress fracture.  Try to not put any weight on that leg, and come back Wednesday."

Remember my engagement?  It's officially off.  I'm very sad about it, but I'll be alright.  Just like when a relationship ends, it's hard to stop thinking about all the things you're missing.  But then, eventually, you're able to recognize that if the relationship had been perfect, if the other person had been meant for you, you would still be together.  Savannah Rock 'n' Roll and I are not meant to be together.  I'm confident that soon, I'll find my Husband of marathons.  My Race Charming will come along and sweep me off my feet, and those 26.2 miles will feel like I'm riding on a white steed.  

My Prince

Let me ask your advice, for once.  Should I make a big deal about Dr. Schmoctor's misdiagnosis?  

Jinx! Padlock!

Do you remember playing this game as a child?  When two people say the same thing at the same time, one of them, or a random listener, can shout, "Jinx!  Padlock!" and then the other person (people) can't speak until someone who isn't padlocked says their name three times.  Other versions include, "Jinx!  Buy me a coke!" and "Chin!  Dada!" which is really only the version Baby plays as she tags along after 6 y.o. and repeats everything he says.

Hard to believe this kid would follow his parents around the house, asking them questions to which he already knows the answer so that he can say what they say at the same time in an attempt to "padlock" them.  Not!  What's hard to believe is that there might be something more annoying that a child could do for weeks at a time.

We have "played" this "game" a lot (lot lot lot lot) during the past several weeks, which might be the reason why I keep thinking of jinxes.  Let me clarify- I am not a superstitious person.  I believe that there is actually an Ultimate Plan for my life, and that luck, jinxes, and the like do not, in reality, even exist.  I typed those last 2 sentences with great conviction, and I definitely stand by my wise words.  However, you will never again see me wearing my Buccaneers earrings on game day.  They lose every time I have them in!  Once, I wore them during the first half of the game which was, in typical Bucs fashion, a disaster. I removed the earrings during halftime, they came back out and won the game.  But I'm not superstitious.  So, all of the jinxes I'm about to describe are certainly not actual jinxes.  Jinxes don't exist.  (Unless you and the person sitting next to you just read 'jinxes don't exist' aloud at the same time.  Then you're both padlocked.  Ha!)

The Speed Jinx

I love my running group.  You would not believe how kind, supportive, encouraging and motivating this group of runners is.  Aaaaannnndddd, one of the kind, supportive, encouraging, motivating friends (I won't mention any names) totally jinxed my pace.  June 14.  5 a.m. group run.  Afterward, as everyone chatted and basked in the knowledge that their stink was undetectable amidst the stinks of those around them, this particular KSEM friend said, "So, you're like never even in the 9s anymore, huh?"  He was right.  In the 2 months prior to his comment, nearly 40 different runs, only 5 had been over a nine minute/mile pace.  In the 2 months since, only 1 of my nearly 40 runs has been under a 9 minute pace, and that one was at 8:57.

Lucky 13?

I registered for the race of my dreams on July 13th.  I used a discount code to save $13.  The code was LUCKY13.  All of which, of course, means nothing bad.  How could a number have any power over me?  It isn't as if typing a 1 and a 3 would somehow magically make my calves hurt or something...

The Best Laid Plans...

Every mile carefully plotted out in a lovely calendar purchased specifically for my marathon training plan.  Pace goals.  Rest days.  Projected weekly mileage increases.  Ink color coordination.  For someone who loves lists like I do, and loves writing with sharp pencils on blank spaces like I do, planning marathon training was blissful.  But, as they say, "the best laid plans of mice and men and marathon running wannabes oft go awry."

What If...?

Maybe it's a genetic trait.  My aunt discussed anticipatory worry on her blog a while back.  Maybe I've got a previously undiscovered anxiety disorder.  Regardless of the origin of this habit, I often (like, really, really often), try to think of every possible thing that can go wrong, despite my firm belief that it's impossible to do so.  Without fail, it is the things I don't think of that do go wrong.  My conclusion, which makes complete sense in some part of my brain, is that if only I had thought about a stinking stress fracture (maybe just a stress reaction) that would put my legs on the couch instead of on the road for all these weeks in the middle of my training, it wouldn't have happened.  Here are some of the things which will now not happen to interrupt my training or spoil my first marathon:

- Stress fracture during the race

- Migraine race morning

- Getting lost on the way to the start line

- Hotel not having our reservation

- Super cold weather

- Super hot weather

- Vomiting

- ITBS

- Forgotten running shoes

- Abduction

- ACL tear

- Car accident

- Snake bite

- Surprise pregnancy

- Bad fall

- Dehydration

- Zombie apocalypse

- Leg amputation after a shaving cut from a rusty razor

This, by the bye, is a pretty small sample of what I've found to worry about.

Missed Wood Knocking Opportunity

My calves were sore, first, but I kept running.  The pain wasn't terrible, and once I was a few miles into each run, they would feel better.  Then, there was that long, hilly run.  My left knee started to sing in awful harmony along with my calf, and kept feeling worse and worse with each passing day.  Probably 8 different times, I said to different family members and friends, "I'm sure it isn't anything serious.  Nothing broken or torn or really damaged."  Do you think I knocked on wood any of the times that I said those words?  Nope.

This image shall serve to remind us all that I did, at one point not so long ago, run.  I even outran all but 1 person in my age group this time, and earned a medal.  Oh!  And remember how I used to smile?!

Knocking on wood is pointless and silly.  Certainly, doing so wouldn't have changed anything.  Right?  Right.  Although the knee pain wasn't getting any better, and the calf pain was still there, I tried every few days to run a few miles.  The last time I did so was Saturday.  I limped/hobbled/made horrid faces for the entire 1.5 miles, and while I showered afterward, I kept distracting myself with reminders of how many times I had been in worse pain. (Pre-epidural.  Migraine.)  With ice, the swelling went down, but the spot on my tibia which felt as though a very mean, very tiny person was chiseling away, did not feel better the next day, or the day after.  After spending some way too much time researching, and after shrieking my way through the hop test, I'm pretty sure that I have a serious problem.

So, here I sit, trying to be calm, trying not to vomit every time I think about/hear about/see anyone running.  I've decided to take a few weeks totally off from running.  If all goes well, I'll still have over 5 weeks to prepare for my first marathon.  No, that isn't even close to as much time as I had planned, but it is better than no weeks.

If all goes poorly, well, I'm sure there's good reason.  I'm also sure that my marathon will not necessarily be the one that I can't get out of my head right this minute.  I will rest.  I will stay calm.  I will smile.  Eventually, I will run.  My legs will carry me where I want to go.  My regular pace will, again, be less than 9 minutes/mile.  I will run a marathon.  And, I will resist the urge to knock on wood as I type, because I'm not superstitious.

My advice for you today is to run when you can run, and rest when you need to rest.  Oh, and have yourself a listen to this!

Do you believe in jinxes?

Do you worry about things in advance?