My Very First Race

Junior High, 8th grade, I wasn’t a runner.  Not that I didn’t run or wasn’t active.  I played tag, dodge ball, climbed trees.  Roller skating was a favorite.  I rode my bicycle everywhere, or I walked. Those were the days (doesn’t seem that long ago!) that I walked to the mall or the record store.  Didn’t think to ask for a ride.  I’d say that I was in okay shape for a kid.

Those were the also days when we went to P.E. every day of school.  We dressed in white shorts and white snap-up-the-front shirts.  Not my favorite class, mainly because of the required showers.  Not my favorite class for other reasons too – I hated soccer because there was too much long running.  I hated basketball because there were too many short bursts of running.  I hated track and field because there was just plain ole’ too much running.

When the annual cross country race rolled around, of course plenty of boys signed up.  No girls volunteered.  Well, our coach rode us girls day after day until she got quite a few female volunteers to run the race.  She suckered me into signing on the dotted line.  Lots of girls were running it by then though, including one of my best friends.

I don’t recall anticipating the race.  I don’t even recall the length of the race.  It could have been a 5k.  It could have simply been a mile (though I think it was probably more than a mile). 

The bad news of this cross country race began early that day when practically every single girl dropped out the before it even started.  And then my friend, she “got her period” and dropped out too.  Too my horror, just two females remained to run the race – myself and another girl named C_____, a soft spoken girl with a good twenty or more pounds on me.

Every student and teacher in the school came out to watch that sunny day.  They sat on the grass slope along the course to watch, just as I had the year prior.  Of course this year I wasn’t chatting with girlfriends or smiling at the boys running by.  This year I was painstakingly running that grassy course.  I hated every single second, it was so tough.  As the guys raced by, I wanted more than anything to quit.  But I just couldn’t.  I had given my word that I would run this dang thing, so in my mind I had to.  I looked behind to see just a few runners, I don’t know, a half dozen or so, one of them C_____.  I remember that she looked as miserable as I felt, red-faced and panting. 

I actually crossed the finish line on my very first race.  And I was pretty pissed off at my friend for “getting her period.”  I was really pissed of at my P.E. coach too.  And I was pretty certain that running was probably the most hellish thing that a person could ever put themselves through.  

That was more than THIRTY years ago. : )

I am done

First off, I am not done with physical therapy as hoped.  The hip still aches (though my back is good).  Every time I run or pretty much do any activity, my pelvis rotates forward.  But now I know how to align it by myself.  Secondly, I’ve mentioned already my infected toe.  But I have neglected to write how I came upon that misfortune. 

The exciting history of the toe (left foot, next to pinkie):  It started with a callus, a perfectly normal occurrence with me.  But then I accidentally kicked the sharp corner of an enormously heavy lawyer’s case in my bedroom.  Okay.  That hurt.  BUT THEN, while cleaning out my boys’ closet I swiped that same toe across one of the bows my husband made (as in bow and arrow kind of bow) which put a nice slice in that same toe!

I ignored it.  Because I’m good at that.  I slapped on a Band-Aid, continued to run and limp around afterwards.  Then one day about a week ago, my husband demanded a look and dealt with it – my toe was infected and full of puss.  While I wiggled and hollered, he sliced the bubble of puss open and drained it.  Afterward, I soaked it several times a day in hydrogen peroxide, slapped anti-biotic ointment and a Band-Aid on, and continued to run.

To make a long story a tad shorter, my doctor says it’s called Paronychia.  He prescribed antibiotics and suggested that I not run this morning. 

5:00 AM I was up dressing for a trail run.  I bandaged the toe and was driving to El Moro – Ridge Park for an Emerald Bay run by 5:30 AM.  The fog covered the roads so thick it was distracting.  (I very much dislike driving in thick fog).  The weather was down right cold and gray at the park.  But that was lovely for a run.

We had five in our group today:  Myself, Sheila, Tom, Kelly and newcomer, Boris.  After taking the ridge for a bit, we headed down Emerald Falls Trail for an out-and-back down Emerald Canyon.  There was some bushwhacking, and gorgeous, yet eerily quiet trails.  The beauty immense, I was in a bit of trouble with the aching hip and toe.  By the time we were finished, I made the promise to myself (and out loud to my friends),  I am taking the whole week off from running.  Yes!  That’s what I said.  I’m not going to run until Bulldog.  Sounds crazy to me.  But I’ve got to do it.  So I decided, swimming only.  The P.T. says it will be great for the hip, and it also will do good not to have a shoe rubbing against my toe. 

Running Down Emerald Cyn

Taking in the Scenery

Heading Back on Emerald Falls Trail (One of the few flats back)

A beauty of a web – in person it resembled a piece of crystal art

Back at home again, I was overly cold.  I did my little march to find what I expected.  My right pelvis had rotated forward (down) at least an inch.  I got it aligned, soaked the toe.  A few hours later, still cold, but hip and toe much better, I crawled beneath a blanket and fell asleep for at least an hour.

So, there you have it.  I am done with running to train for Bulldog.  Adding 2 or three more tapered runs isn’t going to do me any good.  I need to get well, or I’m gonna fall flat on my face come next Saturday.

If any of you see me out on the trails – scold me!  You won’t be seeing though.  Like I said, I’m done.

Miles logged 9.75

No; not Again!

Tuesday my hip ached so badly, I went to bed with a heating pad, then fell promptly asleep. The hip was just not right.  And I was afraid.  Good thing I had physical therapy in the morning.  And good thing my husband came to bed way afterward and turned off the heating pad.

Physical Therapy Wednesday 7:00 AM.  I bridged, lay on the table and my P.T. took a hold of my feet and said, “Your pelvis is so out of line!”

“What???!!”  I felt doomed. “What did I do?”  I asked.  “Am I running wrong?”

“No, it’s not your running,” he said.  “It’s the car accident.  You’re going to be unstable for a while.”

*#%***##!!!!

After an hour and a half of physical therapy, he showed me how to tell when my pelvis is out of line and how to re-align it myself.  I listened and even repeated the steps out loud, but with little hope in my heart.  

Before I left for the gym for some elliptical and weights, he made sure my pelvis was aligned.  I was amazed that my hip felt so much better.

After 65 minutes on the elliptical and 25 minutes of weights, I grocery shopped and returned home and promptly napped for a few hours, so relieved that my hip felt good.

Thursday morning, I was up bright and early for a 6 AM run with Tom and Sheila.  I tossed around the idea of putting in more miles than the hilly out-and-back planned.  My running friends easily convinced me that it’s time to cut back.

And so we went for that ridge run, under cool, almost cold, gray skies. On the way up Cholla, we passed two female hikers.  I jokingly said to one of them, “You know the park’s closed.”  She threw me a glare.  I picked up my pace some, because after that glare, there was no way I was letting that hiker pass this runner up on Cholla Trail.

I didn’t even drink from my handheld once on the way up to Top of the World.  That’s how cool and overcast it was this morning (WHEN THE PARK WAS CLOSED).   I was quite the talkative gal on this run too, more so than usual, because nerves are racking up over the upcoming week. 

On the way back, we came across two cyclists, one who had just wiped out, the other who was calling 911.  The guy who crashed was walking.  For some reason, I was looking for injury in his feet/ankles, being a runner that I am.  Tom stopped to talk to him for a bit.   I could hear sirens in the distance.  Later, my friends mentioned something that I hadn’t noticed – that the wipe-out guy was powdered with dirt head to toe.  

At the top of Cholla a county paramedic truck made its way in, as did one behind us on Westridge.  After running Cholla Trail, another paramedic waited at the bottom to help. 

Good to know response is so quick.  Perhaps though, it was the time of day. (approx. 7:30 am, by now).

I was still stretching after Tom and Sheila took off to begin their day when up the road walked a man with his two doggies – one of them a Beagle.  I stopped him of course, because I wanted to pet his dogs.  We talked and laughed about how stubborn Beagles are.  Turns out, his Beagle’s name is Daisy – just like ours : )

Back I home I was freezing, and my hip ached like the devil!  After  breakfast, I crawled into bed, still sweaty, teeth chattering, hip in trouble, and slept for a couple hours.

After waking I attempted my hip exercises, and  barely able to accomplish them, marched in front of the mirror like my P.T. told me, with my thumbs on my pelvis.  And sure enough, my right thumb ended up a good 2 inches lower than the left.  My right pelvis had rotated forward and down that much!  And so after doing the exercises to supposedly align my pelvis, I marched in front of the mirror again.  And wouldn’t you know it!  My pelvis was aligned – thumbs even.  Wow.  My hip felt much better.

After an afternoon in Fallbrook, I did my mirror march again, and sure enough – pelvis aligned.  Yahoo!  In celebration, I did a two minute plank before walking down to dinner at the corner restaurant.

Miles run this morning: 6.11

Bringing Down the Mileage, Keeping Elevation Up

It's time for me to cut back the mileage.  But I'm going to keep running those hills.  No roads for me for the next 2 weeks.  Just hills.

Tomorrow it's physical therapy.  And then to the gym!

Miles logged run this morning: 6.11 (Thru Canyon Vistas Park, up Cholla Trail, Up Westridge to Top of the World and back.)

Last Big Run before the BIG Run

Sunday was my last long run before Bulldog.  Of course I opted for the big double loop at Aliso/Woods Canyon Park.  And I had the pleasure of company of running friends Tom, Sheila and Marcus for the first loop.  The weather was cool.  And taking the loop clockwise (meaning running UP Meadows was the perfect thing to get my mind off life for a bit).

6:00 AM, I’m still getting my pack together for the run. 

From left to right, Me, Tom, Sheila, Marcus

Top of Meadows, over looking the Pacific Ocean (Laguna Beach)

Good company, good run.  We parted ways after the first loop, which is a dang good run (see first half of profile below).  And then I headed back up Meadows for loop #2.  My hip ached quite a bit, as well as an infected toe (can you believe it!).  But I decided to keep on running, taking a short hiking break to eat my snack.

Up Meadows for the Second Time

At the top, I put in a full set of stretches.  A husband and wife team hiked down on the asphalt road below with their big curly-haired, giant-poodle-like doggie, when that dog suddenly turned around and ran up to me.  He trotted right up and look at me with those big eyes.  I petted him as his masters called out.  They called and called and the dog didn’t flinch.  “You gotta go, doggie,” I said, but he just stayed practically snuggling with me.  Finally, the woman came up closer and called for her dog.  I told her that my dog had just died and maybe her dog sensed my sadness.  She agreed.  Her husband hollered from afar “tell her about the book, tell her about the book!”  The lady then smiled and said that I should go the library for the book, Dog Heaven – that it’s a kids book, but a very good one. 

Okay, I’m way off track here.  I continued running, and the next dog I saw, stopped dead in her tracks as her master walked on.  The dog just stood there staring at me as I ran by.  A realist would say that this is all coincidence, and that I just noticed it Sunday because of my sadness.  (But I’m not that much of a realist : )

I continued the rest of the run with a good deal of hip pain.  And I ran the remainder of Top of the World pretty mindlessly.  That is, I didn’t think about a single thing.  I kept my mind utterly BLANK.  I simply watched my surroundings.  The skies were still cool and gray.  I refilled on water at the park and ran down Westridge and Cholla numb to the pain (I admit, I took 2 Motrins at the Top of the World Alta Laguna Park – though I’m not sure they did much good.)

The remaining run through Wood Canyon was shady, cool and beautiful.  And then after the foresty park, I began to think about the dog I got to pet at the top.  And I started to cry, missing my Daisy.  Just then I saw a snake racing across Wood Canyon Trail in the sun.  Is it a rattler? I wondered and picked up my pace so that I could get a closer look.  But that slithering thing was really booking.  I got there just in time to catch a good look.  But not fast enough to get out my camera.  It was a long as my eight year old son.  Most likely, this was the largest rattler I have ever seen on my runs.  Its diamonds were golden yellow, and so shiny – a beauty of a snake.  I waved over a cyclist to show him the rattler who was now making its way into the brush.  I said, Look how thick it is!  “Nah, he said, he’s still a juvenile.” 

Isn’t it funny that I see what I hope is a rattler in the road, and I literally race to catch up with it!   (Don’t worry, I know a little about Rattler behavior, how they strike and to give them their space. : )

Elevation Profile

 

Miles logged: 20.82

In Honor of our dog Daisy 12/10/96 – 8/6/2010

Our dog died yesterday.  She was with us for nearly 14 years.  She was a member of our family.  This is her house.  This is her backyard.  We all loved her.  It will be a while before thinking of her brings mainly smiles.  Right now thinking of her only brings tears.

In memory of Daisy Dog, the Miertschins’ best friend:  We miss you Daisy.  There is a huge void in our lives right now.  We expect to hear you walking across the floor.  We expect to hear you bark out for your dinner.  We love you.

Daisy