Just Shy of Exclaiming -- I'm Back.

Sunday morning, time for a longish run -- it was difficult to get going due to the time change (Spring forward : )

I followed PT orders with a ten minute warm-up.  That is, I WALKED down Highway One (a gradual hill that I am forbidden to run for the time being).  The weather was cold, cold, cold, and being that I was WALKING, made it even more difficult to get these old bones warm.  I wanted to cross the highway to walk the sunny side.  But I was spooked by an drunken old guy who mumbling loudly, stumbled a few steps forward then one step back.  It was 7:50 AM, and I had to wonder whether he had been drinking all night or did he just start early AM?  Sad to see.

As soon as I hit flat ground I took off running.  Slow to start, I ran into Doheny Beach's main entrance, happy to see that today was the Grunion 5k Run.  And I was running on the course!  I didn't see any runners, but off in the distance I noticed an empty start/finish line, so I knew they were out there somewhere.

Much to my amazement, I warmed up less than a mile into my run.  Was it the physical therapy, the planks, or the ten minute walk? Perhaps all.  I've written several times that it usually takes me about four miles to warm up (terribly long, I now realize after Sunday's run).  With a smile on my face I headed on, adding three sprints (okayed by PT) over the next mile or so. 

On the bridge over San Juan Creek, the 5k's front runner made his way toward me -- a delight to see.  As I've mentioned before, it's a rare thing for me to see the front runners.  This guy was a good minute in front of the next runner.  In fact, the first five or so runners were surprisingly spread out.  I studied their forms.  None of them had the swinging left to right arms that I see so often.  All of them kept their torso's facing forward too (no twisting) and most seemed to have relaxed limbs.  Around runner #6 was the first female; the next few in a row in fact were women. 

About that time, I turned into the campground to run my regular loop.  It was full this Sunday morning, bacon sizzling over campfires.  People shuffled along in pajamas, puffing their first cigarettes of the day or holding mugs of steamy coffee.  I was going to run that second loop that I normally add, but I just had to get back out on the race course.  I love the excitement of a race.  And I love how people get out there, especially those who find it most difficult, to conquer the 5k.  (I remember how very difficult it was for me the first several times and how I so feared the dreaded DFL -- last place : (

Then the first large cluster of runners passed by me, followed by a few stragglers, then another large cluster (which I noticed plenty of twisting bodies).  Then the runners thinned out again, with the walkers pulling up the end.  I passed their turnaround point and continued on into Capo Beach.  I felt strong, amazingly strong.  My trunk felt solid, my legs and arms, so, so light.  More importantly, I felt absolutely no hip pain, no ache, no stiffness.

I ran until the side walk ended and made my way back to Doheny, running along the boardwalk with other racers, the finish line up ahead.  I turned off about fifty yards before crossing it, ran onto the grass, around the bathrooms with three or more other runners who did the same. 

Out of Doheny, I ran the road down to the jetty, past a dozen or so longboarders in their wetsuits waiting for that wave to ride in.  Fishermen, and one woman had their lines cast into the marina waters beneath sunny blue skies.  Though my gloves were now tucked into my belt, it was still pretty cold out, with a mild breeze. 

I made all my usual turns, through the wharf, which was lined again with artists and their paintings.  Sunday was the last day of The Festival of the Whales.  Old Woodies lined the grass along the harbor, brand new Fords were out for display too.  Concession stands lined the parking lot at "Baby Beach" just past the makeshift pancake breakfast restaurant. 

I ran every crevice, most of them twice, ending this run with one last short sprint to make the light at the crosswalk.  Then as directed I didn't run up Golden Lantern, instead I walked it and back home briskly for my cool down. 

Great run.

Miles logged:  12.27

Words of Wisdom

Physical Therapy today.  After a recap of my runs, etc., these are the words of wisdom descended upon me.

1)  NO HILLS.  (So, I guess I goofed there.  I thought just as long as I felt no pain, and the terrain, that is horizontally, was flat, that I was okay).  Not.

2)  NO TRAILS.  I haven't run any trails since therapy began.  But I've been aching to.  So, I asked today, what about FLAT trails?  Answer:  No.

3)  PLANKS -- YES.  I can do reversed crunches if I want to, but Planks are really where it's at!

Felt pretty good after PT.  Hip ached quite a bit about 2 hours later.  Now, it's back to normal -- that is, no pain, unless I tweak it.  : )  And so, I won't tweak it.

Miles logged today:  0
Yards swam:  2,250

: )

A Hair Brain Idea?

Thursdays has been a running day for a long time.  So when I got word of an emergency meeting (re: work), I didn't fret too long.  I couldn't run tonight.  I had to work, after that, it was off to my son's orchestra practice.  My only choice:  simply run to the meeting.

My husband said it was a "hair brain" idea.

Hmph.

So did my son.

Double hmph.

I stuffed my glasses, a pen and some paper, plus my phone into my belt, glad that I came up with such a good idea.  : )  Out the door, I began my run uphill, a pretty tough climb.  Afterwards I ran downhill toward Insterstate 5 (even stopped in to see my youngest and husband at preschool).  After crossing over the river, I ran the road that runs between the interstate and the railroad tracks -- the car dealership ghost town.  And then the run got pretty tough -- tough as in, the road was not runner friendly.  The sidewalk ended and cars raced by at high speeds as I ran on an uneven gravel portion closer to the tracks. 

I made it to the district office with twenty minutes to spare.  Plenty of time to stretch, drink and rinse off my face before heading on in.  I don't really care if people think I'm crazy.  There was one guy a the meeting who congratulated me.  He saw me running by the car dealers as he drove in. 

I decided not to take the same route home.  My plan, hop onto the bike trail and run it on into Doheny beach (I don't call it the "bike trail" usually.  I call it the  "river walk," because it's a paved trail that runs up above San Juan Creek, which is sometimes a river.  Absolutely no one else calls it the "river walk," though.  I get laughs in fact when I call it that).

I guzzled down at the water fountain in a park that overlooks the creek, then headed toward the ocean.  But it turned out that the bridge that crosses the river (creek) was closed.  I headed back into San Juan Capistrano, and ran a much longer route home.  I got to pass my boy's elementary school and finally climbed back toward home as I passed my son's preschool.

I arrived home rather tired, but HAPPY.  Happy for no pain in the hip!

Miles logged this morning:   9.15

Gettin' Better (I hope I am, I hope I am . . . )

I've been doing my physical therapy exercises daily.  And I've ever so slowly been adding core exercises (like planks and reverse crunches.)  Yesterday, I set out for a road run, a little leary.  The wind blew hard as my feet hit the pavement.  I cringed, bracing for the worst.  But I was pleasantly, no . . .  more than pleasantly, more like exhilerated over the fact that I felt no pain, not even an ache in my hip.  I was afraid though, because I could still feel that my hip wasn't right.  It felt weak, as if I was recovering from an accident (in a way, I guess, I was). 

Believe me, I was oh so careful not even to twist in the wrong way.  I focused on posture and form, and gingerly stepped off curbs.  I didn't even cut across the grass woven with thick roots in fear that I'd step on one of those roots and jar my hip.  Didn't touch the sand, just stayed on that pavement for the whole, windy, windy run along the wharf and beaches.

For sure I'm healing.  The trick is, to keep it up.

Miles logged on Tuesday morning:  7.26.  But I feel sad when I look off yonder at those green hills calling out my name. 

Time to Give it a Try

I woke this morning with no hip pain.  I did my physical therapy exercises and stretches.  And being that I had to go to the post office anyway, I thought I'd take a little run.  I headed out in running pants, and a hoodie, zipped to my neck.  Gray skies, it was breezy and pretty cold.  But my hip felt fine.  And oh, about three blocks after taking off, I had that bright yellow hoodie off my shoulders and tied around my waist. 

Flat runs are difficult to come by in my town -- unless I drive down to the marina.  So I ran some minor hills out of the neighborhood, headed toward the sound of live music downtown.  With the roads closed into the town center, I realized that today was Festival of the Wales!  I ran on into the plaza, delighted.  Making eye contact with the band's lead singer, he waved at me as I ran  into the crowd.  The plaza was lined with vendors --different foods, arts and crafts, businesses advertising.

Out of the plaza, I ran across Pacific Coast Highway to the post office.  I crossed the highway and ran the cliff neighborhoods.  I just couldn't take it anymore; my body practically steered itself down the big hill to the marina.  There was a slight ache in my hip, not actual pain, so I figured it was okay.  Definately nowhere near a "2" on a scale of "1 to 10." 

Down at the marina, artists displayed their paintings along the sidewalk as crowds mingled about.  There were face painters, balloon twisters -- all sorts of interesting talents.  I squeezed through, making my way toward the wharf where I was met by another rock n' roll band.  Then I ran through the dry dock to make my way to the jetty -- a run up that road and back was an easy 1/2 mile addition to this run.   Fisherman threw a multitude of lines out into the harbor waters by the jetty.  And a great number of our city's homeless were camped out there as well.  As I ran through, an elderly, seemingly stinkin' drunk man (who could have been homeless) hollared at me, "You're lagging!  You're lagging," all the while shaking his finger and smiling at me with a toothless grin.  I thought to myself, "I know!  I'm doing it on purpose."

I kept up my leisurely pace back to the main road, a little concerned about running the big hill back.  Surprisingly, I took it no problem.  And the hip ached no worse.

Sorry about the hills Doc.  But they were nothing compared to what I'm used to.  And the PT said, "nothing that causes pain."  And the hills didn't cause me pain.  Really. 

Miles logged:  4.0

Back at home:  plenty of stretching, ice and more ice, and something new -- planks! 

Physical Therapy

I went to my first physical therapy session yesterday.  First ever.  It felt odd.  Like I didn't belong there; I was "out of my league."  I'm 45-years-old for goodness sake.  I've got three boys, a husband, a house to clean, laundry and meals to make.  I've got a teaching job and dreams of becoming a published novelist.  Yet, there I was, laying on a table while Kevin (my therapist) poked and proded every muscle to pinpoint just which ones were injured.  He found them all right -- three of them, in my left hip, just under my IT band.

Ouch.

After pinpointing that, he stretched my legs (more so than I ever do), and "rubbed" out my muscles (I don't know what it's called, but it's like a deep, hard massaging).  I did some exercises, had some electrodes attached to the hip with a comfortable pillow-like sack of ice over the injury.  It all lasted an hour and a half exactly.

Like I said.  This was my first time.  I don't even know the words to adequately describe the session.  I know that I felt better afterwards -- looser, but even more so, hopeful.  I felt hopeful that my running aspirations for the year might be met. 

It seems kinda ridiculous that I have running aspirations.  I mean, this is my hobby.  No, it's something more than my hobby.  "Hobby" just seems like the closest word to describe it right now.  What are my running aspirations for the year?  I'm not going to do the 20 races like 2009.  Instead, I just want Calico (check), Silverado footrace (check) and 3 marathons.  In addition to the 3 marathons, I'm aiming for my first 50k. 

Both my doctor and Kevin seemed optimistic about me running the marathon mid-April.  "But now is the time for healing," Kevin warned.  I am under direction to do nothing that causes pain in my hip -- even flat runs.  On the way out, I asked "What if I have only a little pain, can I run?"

"Only a 2 on a scale of 1 to 10, then you can," he said.  "But DON'T RUN 12 MILES.  Run 3."

I laughed outloud.

"Long distance runners," he chuckled.  "You're all the same!"

Long distance runner?  That is remarkably odd to me.  I'm no long distance runner.  I'm a dreamer, a drifter of sorts, an escape artist who happens along the way, to chalk up the miles.  That's who I am.

I do have every intention of following doctor's and therapist's orders though.  And so when I woke this morning, and I actually felt pain in my left hip, I chucked my running plans (I went to the gym in the evening, and even chucked the abductor and adductor weights AS ORDERED).  And though I worked-out an hour and a half, I did nothing that caused pain in my hip.

Miles logged today:  0

Therapy orders followed:  100%

ps.  some funny things today:
1)  My 8-year-old boy went for a run today because he was feeling agitated.  He said it makes him feel better to run.
2)  My 10-year-old boy said to me, "Mom, those other runners, they're running FREAKS."  He was giving me a pep talk about following doctor's orders. : )