Sunday, December 25, 2011

Rounding the Corner

As I close out the year of transition, and look ahead to 2012, I can see all the wonderful possibilities within my reach. All I have to do is stay focused, and in the infamous words of my Ironman trainer...just "race my plan". Nike said it well too with "just do it".

Wishing all of you a wonderful holiday season full of family, fun and delicious indulgences. Now, let's all plan to kick some butt next year!

Sunday, October 30, 2011

I'm Back and Better Than Ever!


It's been a long time since I went to bed anticipating a race. I feel like I've been in physical therapy for years. Which, pretty much I have between the elbow and then the foot surgery. I've been religiously following my trainers program, and picked a local charity 5K as my debut race, to see how it's all been coming along. To get out there, stretch it out, kick it hard, suck the wind, hang out with fit people, and feel the burn. Today was my day. I was a bit concerned though, as I have been sick with bronchitis for the past 2 weeks, and have only ran one time a couple of days ago. Last night, I was hoping for the pre-race jitters to bring a little adrenalin to my step, but they never arrived. This morning, I still hoped for some light nerves to get me moving. Again,they did not arrive. I figured I was just so seasoned that racing wasn't going to get my juices up. It was only 32 degrees at the start line, so maybe the adrenalin was just frozen in my veins! I did my warm up and felt like lead. So, I toed the line feeling like I would have a nice, solid, training run. My running partner asked me what my goal was. Gosh, I didn't even have one. I told her I would be happy with 36:00, and happier if I managed a 34:00. The gun went off, and out I went. Ramesh soon was on my shoulder, and I felt like I was going along quite nicely. A little fast, but hey, it's a race, isn't it? I heard the lady call out 10:20 at mile 1. Uh oh. Out too fast. I was sure I would crash and burn at the turn. But! I didn't. All that training is paying off. I held the pace, felt fantastic, and started a kick at mile 2. As I rounded the corner for the last 1/4 mile, I pressed hard towards the finish line. The clock turned 31:39 as I ran under the banner. Woot! I was ecstatic. I had no idea how I placed until my running partner came up and asked me. My finish slip said 94th out of 600. She asked the race director. I was floored when he said "you won your age group". What? I won? OMG! I WON! I stuck around for the awards, and happily snapped up my gift certificate. I can't even begin to express how pivotal this win was for me. I am so encouraged now. Both feet felt perfectly fine, and this is just what the doctor ordered for the emotional side of me. Just think...6 months ago both feet were sliced open, one had the big toe carved up. Lots and lots of physical therapy, lots and lots of patient time in the gym learning to stand, walk and then run again. And today, it all came together for me. I'm back, and better than ever!

Saturday, September 24, 2011

tran-si-tion (tran'ziShen)



Verb: undergo or cause to undergo a process or period of transition.
Noun: the process or period of changing from one state or condition to another.

I've just spent the past two years in both the verb and noun sense of this powerful word. Just a little over two years ago, I experienced probably the worst accident of my life. It took me a very long time to recover from the elbow replacement surgery. During that recovery, my foot started acting up. Eventually, the pain derailed me until I could have surgery. After a long two years of rehabilitation, I think I have finally transitioned. I have successfully moved from one condition to another. I am no longer "recovering". I am now "training". Oh, what a feeling that is. I haven't felt this way since the week right before I broke my arm. I am over it. Done with it. Moving on.

I learned so much about myself, my body, my psyche, my callings, my friends, my family, my goals, my loves, my fears, my life. I feel I have successfully incorporated these experiences gained to create my new reality. I am still learning what it is to be human. What a fantastic feeling it is to wake up in this body, and feel strong again, especially as I close out the decade I call my "fifties".

It's been nearly six years since I crossed that finish line in Kona at 10:59 p.m., hearing the announcer say "Shawna Barlette, you are an Ironman". That experience changed me forever. The mantra "Anything is Possible" is embodied within me until I pass this earth. It is what has sustained me and kept me driving forward in my recovery. For all of us who face challenges daily, be it minor or major, keep this thought at the forefront of your life. Anything is Possible. Anything. Ask me, I will go on and on and on about this incredibly powerful idea, and how each and everyone one of us has it within ourselves to actualize on it, and move mountains.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Caution - Construction Zone


Taking my time, being patient, and putting the finishing touches on my foundation. One of the reasons I feel my recovery has been going so incredibly well, is I am paying very close attention to building the foundation correctly. One stone at a time, one course at a time, one corner at a time. I am nearing the completion of the foundation, and am happy to report the structure is sound. Having a strong and solidly built foundation is the key to an equally strong and solidly built training program. I'm excited to report that I have picked my debut race. I can't wait to get back in the rhythm of training to race. I have also just learned that my training partner has met two incredible women who are training for the Umstead 100, that I will be meeting for the first time at the race I have signed up for. Potential partner opportunities for me!

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Mid Life Crisis

This is the story about how I came to be bionic. I am posting now as part of the background to an upcoming article I am working on about the psychology of injury. Before you read on, I want to give a quick update on the arm. Last week in yoga class, I was able to do my first one arm plank on that arm, much to my squealing delight.

Mid Life Crisis


Not the kind you think, either, so don't go thinking I bought a new sports car or went out parachuting. This was the kind of mid-life crisis that was a bonafide crisis that was totally unanticipated, unwelcome, life altering, soul seeking, wake-my-ass-up from complacency knock-you-down-and-step-on-your-trachea crisis. I've waited until I was almost recovered so I could write a proper story, from beginning to middle to the end. Well, it's been ten weeks since the accident, and I'm ready to tell the tale.

It's funny (well maybe not in retrospect) how you can be living your life in relative peace and quiet and calm one minute, and the next minute have something happen that turns your life upside down. I've relived the accident a thousand times to try to figure out what happened, and more importantly, how to not let it happen to me again. Each time, it gets clearer and clearer and I can almost see myself in the seconds before and the moments after with great clarity. It's an effort to slow it down in my mind’s eye and examine every detail to understand the messages and lessons so rudely handed to me that morning.

September 13, 2009 was a beautiful day for a run. Gorgeous morning. Ramesh, Lori and I had been training for a half marathon coming up in November. Ramesh happened to be in Vancouver, Canada, for his best friend's wedding, and wasn't able to join us that day. I was excited though to run with someone new that day. One of Angie's friends (Tessa) was looking to run long in preparation for her first marathon in Washington, DC. You know me, I love to run with new runners and I was excited to not only meet her, but run with her. In that spirit, we all set out for our long run. Chatting, laughing, enjoying the company, having a great time as we made our way around the course that Ramesh had laid out for us. Just past mile 9, we made our way up on to Six Forks Road, a flat stretch with a slight downhill to it. A great place to catch our breath and stretch it out a bit. We were running down the sidewalk, me on the right, Lori on my left, and Tessa behind us both. I was in super fun chat mode and made a serious mistake. I took my eyes off the ground, and glanced over my left shoulder to say something to the gals. In an instant, life changed. I caught my left toe on a crack in the sidewalk, and was hurled forward towards the ground with lightning speed. I tried in vain to get my legs under me. It only took a nano-second for me to realize I was going to hit the ground, and hard. As I saw the ground coming towards my face, I made a split second decision to save my dental work and rolled (rather threw) my body to the left. My left hand found the ground first, followed by my right knee, and then my body weight all fell on to my right arm as I rolled on to that side to avoid smashing my face on the ground. I slid down the sidewalk until I came to a stop. Life altering moment number one.

OK, I thought I could be injured, so I lay still for a few minutes and calmly told the gals to give me a minute to see what may have happened. I sat up. My knee was bleeding, having removed the flesh down to the bone on it. I grabbed my water bottle and washed it off. That's when I noticed the rice crispy crunch in my right elbow. Oh, that's not good I thought to myself. Still being as calm as I could be, I said to Lori that I thought it could be broken. Odd, it did not hurt at all. It was simply crunchy when I bent it. Hmmmm, should probably get it x-rayed. I stood up, and it was decided that Lori and Tessa would run back to the house (we were about 1.5 miles from the house) to get Lori's car, come back and collect me, and then we would head to urgent care for an x-ray. I started to walk back alone. I tried to run, but for some reason the energy just wasn't there, so I hooked my right hand in my water belt and walked. I was a bit surprised later on that none of the dozen cars that passed me in the neighborhood stopped to ask if I was alright. I had blood streaming down my leg, my arm was obviously gorked, and I was alone. Later, I told my entire family if they ever see anyone in this condition to stop and render aid. I was nearly back when Lori arrived and helped me in the car. We went back to Angie's house. This is where the fun started.

I can testify that the kid friendly antiseptic works great. Angie dressed my knee and called Rick. "Mom fell and she may have broken her arm". "What? Doesn't she watch where she's going?" This was just the beginning of many marital stressing statements from Rick. (Just so you know, he did finally "get it", but it was a long few weeks until he did) Angie handed me a breakfast bar, and off we went to urgent care. Thank goodness for Lori who was in instant help mode, and did everything she could to make the next part as easy as possible for me.

I sat in the waiting room, eating my bar (thankful I did that...) until they called my name. They never looked at my knee, even though I asked them to a couple of times. Got x-rays of both arms, thinking holy shit, if I broke them both, what will I tell Rick? How will I eat? Crap, crap, crap. This was threatening to ruin my training. I had a nasty contusion on the left arm, and the x-rays showed I had indeed fractured my right arm. The original diagnosis was a fractured radial head, simple. I got a splint, a prescription for painkillers (never needed it), and instructions to see an orthopaedic specialist in the morning. Little did I know what was coming.

Monday morning at 8:00 found me in front of the computer, looking for an ortho specialist that could see me that day. I called practices in alphabetical order until I found someone who had an opening. Fate definitely delivered me to the right practice. Raleigh Ortho had an opening downtown, and could see me. Thinking I had a "simple" fracture, Rick drove me over there to get what I thought would be a cool cast that the grand kids could write their names on. Uhhhh that will teach me to think. The PA loaded up my x-rays on the computer, and hauled me out in the hallway to look at them. She had a very worried look on her face. She started to tell me all kinds of things that made me get a very worried look on my face. I heard myself ask for Rick, who was in the waiting room. I'm thinking I'm about to hear some bad news that I wasn't prepared for. She goes and gets a doctor (I was only supposed to be getting a cast...no doctor was supposed to be needed...so I grew concerned). Dr. A came in and started explaining that I have not only broken the radial head, I managed to shatter it. In my head, I'm thinking SHIT. Surgery? Dr. A gets this brilliant idea that maybe a little physical therapy, and things should be OK in a splint for 8 weeks. Oh...except for one small issue he wanted to deal with right then and there. What's that Dr. A? It seemed the joint was full of blood, which he was going to extract before I left with a 52 inch needle. (Just kidding...it was big, but not that big) Here, lay down, we'll fix you right up. I'm used to getting mentally prepared for procedures, not just going right from the chair to the table. No time to think about it. I won't give too many details except it was done without Novocain, it wasn't easy for him because of the bones all being shattered and he had to basically navigate around them, and it took him 15 minutes to get the blood out. So, a nice splint and less blood in the joint and off I went. It got worse.

On Wednesday, I got a call from the urgent care. They were very concerned about me. They sent my x-rays to a specialist to read, and he wanted me to know that I had shattered the radial head. Duh. Been there, done that, but thanks anyway for the follow-up call. I started physical therapy to try to coax my arm to heal itself. I transferred to an office closer to my house, which turned out to be the best decision of all. After 10 days of valiant efforts, I was getting worse. Pain began to haunt me, and I couldn't move the arm at all. I met Dr. T. I LOVE DR. T. He was very candid with me. He wondered what Dr. A was thinking. To Dr. T, I was the clearest candidate for surgery that he had seen all year. OK, to recap, I went from a simple fracture to a surgery in 10 days. See what I mean? It kept getting worse. Dr. T showed me better x-rays that clearly showed the problem. Dr. T is a runner, and we had a great chat about Ironman, running and all that goes with it. Did I mention I love Dr. T? Surgery was scheduled for Sept. 28th. Should only take 1-1/2 hours to put some screws in to stabilize the fracture, and all will be good again. It still kept getting worse.

I was up early the morning of the surgery. Rick and I made our way to the surgical center. Angie planned on joining Rick later on to be there when I woke up. I had hoped that I would still get the cool cast for the grand kids to write their names on. I was given a nerve block (pretty un-nerving...) and the best drugs on the planet, and wheeled in to the surgery. Piece of cake. I was awakened by the surgeon. He said "you probably won't remember any of this, but you were in surgery for 3 hours". 3 hours? Holy crap. Something must have gone wrong. He went on "I wasn't able to reattach the shattered pieces and after trying for an hour and a half, we had to replace your radial head". I mumbled something like "oh, OK", and slipped back in to my drug induced fog. Angie and Rick were there, and when he left, showed me the x-rays they had taken during the surgery with the prosthesis in it. It didn't hit me at all the gravity of what just happened. I came out of my fog, got dressed, and we made our way home. I had a huge dressing and a sling, and my arm was totally frozen from the nerve block. Too bad that nerve block didn't last long, because as it wore off, excruciating pain set in. I felt like I'd been dropped out of a 747 from 10,000 feet. Drugs. Give me drugs. I spent the first couple of day’s zombied out on the couch, alternating between the Percocet and the anti-nausea medication so I could take the Percocet. Miserable, I tell you. I had my computer at home, thinking I could work, but quickly discovered that was entirely out of the question. Two days later, and it hits me. A prosthesis? WTF? How did that happen? I called Angie and asked her this question "can you please explain to me how I went from a simple surgery to put some screws in my arm to having part of my bone cut away and replaced with a freaking fake elbow?" She calmly told me the story she had listened so intently to in the recovery room. Evidently, the damage was way worse when they opened up the elbow. The impact of the fall had compressed the radius severely, and I had broken the head of it in to 4 separate pieces. The surgeon was able to reattach 2 of them, but couldn't get 2 screws to stay put in the remaining 2 pieces because the compression had all but ruined the area he was trying to attach them to. So, after 1-1/2 hours of effort, he made the decision to remove the radial head, and insert a brand spanking new Acumed radial head. It was made of titanium, with a chrome polished cobalt head. Ooooooo, I'm bionic now. I told you it got worse. In retrospect, and after follow up discussions with both my physical therapist and my surgeon, I have concluded this was the one true correct solution. Screws would have plagued me in my later years, and are often the source of arthritis and other issues. This way, at least it is a clean replacement and should give me a lifetime of trouble free use.

Not that it has been easy to rehabilitate, as it hasn't. The arm was useless and did nothing for the first couple of weeks. Rehab started when the surgical dressing came off. I couldn't hold a piece of paper in that hand. As part of my surgery, the surgeon had to remove the main ligament that holds the two halves of your arm together and then reconstruct it with a big honking screw. That has been the bigger problem to rehabilitate than the prosthesis. It's the same as if I tore the ligament from the bone, and has a very long healing time.

So, here I am, 9 weeks post-surgical and the arm is coming around. Like all life altering events, I have had to take a long, hard look at what I learned, and change some things in my life. We are all works in progress, and it's important to use these lessons to improve in areas where we are deficient. Certainly for me, this was a pivotal moment in my 54th year. I learned a few things, and came to a new realization about some other things. Things like:

1. It's true that the bigger you are, the harder you fall.
2. Concrete really is the hardest substance known to man.
3. The older you get, the harder it is to heal.
4. The worst part was losing my independence. I hated being dependent for nearly everything, even basic things like bathing and dressing oneself.
5. Family is everything. They jumped in and helped without hesitation. Ramesh traded cars with me so I could drive (his is automatic, mine is a 6 speed). Angie ferried me around and washed my hair when I couldn't. Rick tolerated me and eventually settled in to being extremely helpful over the long haul.
6. I was reminded I am a Buddhist, and I need to be more focused.
7. Never, ever take your eye off the ball. I don't care what it is you are doing. Driving a car, running, walking, doing dishes, cooking, sex, whatever. Be present with the task at hand, and with yourself. Never drop focus.
8. Patience is a virtue. I had to be reminded many times. An accident like this is a long process, and can't be hurried. I've been given the patience talk by my health care providers more than once.
9. I don't set off airport alarms. I found this out when we went to Spain.
10. People in Spain look at you funny when you are wearing a high tech splint like I had to wear. Evidently, this technology hasn't made its way in to socialized medicine countries.
11. I would be in financial straits without health insurance. The urgent care visit alone was almost a $1,000. The entire bill is going to be around $35,000. I don't know about you, but I don't happen to have that amount lying around the house. It pains me to know this country has so many individuals without health insurance. It's a freaking crime.
12. I've learned to be more humble. It's been hard to ask for help. I'm proud and independent. To ask for help was difficult for me. Now, I understand.
13. No, the arm doesn't make a cool swooshing noise like the bionic woman's did. Too bad. That would have been cool.
14. If you fall off a horse, or a bike, or splat on a sidewalk, it is imperative you get back on. Ramesh had me run right where the accident occurred on my first run back from surgery. Yeah, it was weird, and yeah, it was important to go back there. After all, it was just an accident.
15. Most of all live fully. Love life and live each day as if it were to be your last. You never know what can happen.

Dancing Again


I have two left feet. Really. My balance has always sucked, even before 4 foot surgeries. A couple of weeks ago, I joined an afternoon yoga class at work in an effort to bring a little flexibility and balance back in to my routine. Part of my rehabilitative exercise routine revolves around my ability to stay balanced. I loved yoga before the foot surgery, and jumped on the opportunity to bring it back in to my life.

Last week, my instructor coaxed me in to a Dancer's pose. I struggled with the pose, trying desperately to stay upright on one foot, especially my recently reconstructed left foot. The instructor walked over to me to help me out. She showed me and explained to me the importance of the pelvis, and how my feet are not what was holding me up. What she said really resonated with me. She said "your foot is not going anywhere....just try to move it". I could not. She demonstrated the power of the pelvis to me and had me tilt my pelvic forward, and sink in to the pose with my hips. What a pivotal moment! My body suddenly "got it", and I had a full minute of yoga enjoyment and exploration in this pose.

My trainer loved it too. He's been teaching me for years the value of strength in the core. He's happy I "got it" too.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Take a Break





Balancing life, training, jobs, relationships is an important part of staying healthy and on track. This was really driven home for me during the long road to Ironman. A lot of times, people feel guilty for not training 24/7, or that they will somehow lose fitness gains, or forget their goals. Not true. A well timed break gives your body time to recover, and your soul time to refresh. In that spirit, Rick and I just returned from a week in Cozumel, Mexico. It wasn't totally lazy. I did swim every day, and took a 1/2 day snorkel tour. The snorkel tour turned out to be the most strenuous snorkeling I've ever done. We stopped at three major snorkel sites along the Cozumel's coastline, and dropped in to the strongest currents I've ever experienced. I trained in the Kona's waters for over 2 years, and never in my life swam in current like this! The second I spotted something to look at, it was gone. Now that I am refreshed and relaxed, I will pick up where I left off tomorrow morning with a run and weight session. I hope you all reap the many benefits of a little break with your loved ones this summer!

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Number Nine


I will be nine weeks post-op on Monday. This past training week was the first one where I didn't really notice the surgery, and I was able to cruise through the workouts like the old days. Even better, my toe popped for the first time in I don't know how long. That may sound strange to a lot of you, but to me, it was the best feeling ever. The inflammation from prior to the surgery, and then from the actual surgery, had subsided enough to allow the toe to "pop". Ahhhhhh, life's little pleasures. I am running a solid 15-16 miles a week, and getting in 2 strength workouts each week. While I am still packing way too many extra pounds around, I am feeling more like my former self every day. I'm not focusing on the weight issue since I know from experience it will naturally fall way when I kick up the mileage. For variety, I am giving my two older grandsons swimming lessons starting today in their pool. I told Angie that I would be teaching the "Mari L." method. Thanks Mari for all of you have done for me....I will be paying it forward to two eager little boys!

Friday, May 20, 2011

The Long and Winding Road (ahead...)


It's been 6 weeks since the surgery. What a great week! I did 6 workouts, and managed a total of 16 miles of running. I did two strength workouts, stretched 6 days and on the foam roller 6 days. There were many painful moments and reminders (shoulders down and back...breathe...feet straight...work through the pain to the end...). Today was my first adventure outdoors in the park. I loved every step of the 3 mile run. It marked the true beginning of my training for the 50. Rick rode alongside of me, which is also part of my plan. I really need him to support the longer runs, and what better way for him to do that than with a nice bike ride with his wife? His presence gives me a sense of comfort I cannot get running alone.

This week is also the first full week of working with my new program. I've talked a lot about my trainer, Keith. If any of you watch the Biggest Loser, for me, Keith is my Bob Harper. When you click with a trainer, never leave that person. I "clicked" with Keith the very first time I met him in Hawaii. A trainer/coach relationship is about trust. Not only trusting your trainer, but allowing him/her to instill trust in yourself. When you have full and implicit trust in the program,your training and your own abilities, you can achieve anything. I don't say that lightly. This was probably the most important take away from my Ironman. Trust. For the new reader, you should know that I did not know how to swim when I started my Ironman dream. I did not own a bicycle. I had only dabbled in 5 and 10K's. I was hardly the vision one had when thinking of an Ironman. Today, I am a changed human being. I have learned to trust.

So, when the email arrived from Keith announcing my new program, I remembered that I had to trust. He is as passionate about his work as I am about mine. We both have a role to play in this adventure, and we both trust each other to execute to the best of our abilities. I can't even begin to tell you how much I learned from him during Ironman training. Now, I trust that I will learn so much again about myself, and what it means to be human. My body has evolved and aged, and I have gained much wisdom since Ironman, but I remain fearless and fierce in my determination to trust both Keith, and myself. I am so excited for the next chapter, and to start down that long and winding road to the finish line.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Week Two

Just over four weeks post-surgical, and I'm feeling like the surgery was a success, and I will be able to work out the "kinks" and start to ramp up a running program. This week, I was able to increase the mileage by 50% to a whopping 11.6 miles! Perhaps the best part of the week was I did three days in a row of three miles each. Albeit a little slow (38 minutes), but got the job done. The pain in my toe is slowly dissipating, and is truly a reflection of the surgery. No hint of the hallux rigidus pain (those of you who know will know I am referring to the nightmare of bone pain...burning pain...impervious to Aleve pain). There are new issues cropping up, but nothing I did not expect. Because I have favored the left leg so much for so long, my right knee clicks when I climb stairs. I sent a quick note to Keith to see about corrective exercises that I can employ to help get the body square again. Need to address that soon before it turns into a full blown problem. Goals for next week are 15 miles total, and my first run outside on uneven terrain. I've been a bit leery of outdoors until the foot had healed a little bit more. Most of you know I live 1/2 mile from Umstead Park, which is the actual course for the 50 mile run. What better way to train than on the course?

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Week One and Motivation


It was a great recovery week. Much better than I had anticipated. Sure, day one and day two were rough. Why shouldn't they be? By day three, I knew the doctor was right when he said 2 forward, 1 backward. I had to take Wednesday off. The foot was sore and a little swelling was noticeable next to the incision. But, that turned out to be the right thing to do as day four and day five were kick ass for someone recovering from a cheilectomy! Started the week with a very slow 1.6 miles, and ended with a 2.5 mile jog in 32 minutes. I was very pleased. Being ever vigilant about my biomechanics, I am noticing minor issues. My right knee clicks when I climb stairs. I know that's from favoring the left foot for weeks, and will no doubt disappear when I finally get my weight evenly distributed. I'm limping a lot less though, and moving through space a little quicker. I am very happy that the pain I experienced on Friday was comparable to the pain I had the week before surgery, so I know it's healing.

That brings me to the motivation part. Usually, I am highly self motivated, and don't need too much to spur me in to action. Training for Ironman taught me how to take myself out there and pound out a workout. Today, I found new motivation in a strange place. The dressing room in Dick's Sporting Goods. Oh yeah, nothing quite like the annual excursion to purchase the summer's swimsuit to bring it all in to sharp focus. Liposuction came to mind. I left with the new suit, and new found motivation to run my ass off. On to week two! My goal is to hit a 5K by Friday.

Monday, May 2, 2011

The Longest Mile


....is the first mile. Especially after double foot surgery. Today was my first step on to the treadmill. A familiar place. I stashed my water bottle in the usual cubby hole, turned on the TV and tuned to CNN (which held my interest this morning...normally does not), and pushed START. I quickly discovered that walking is not fun or pain free. I had assumed that jogging might be easier since I wouldn't be "pushing off" with nearly the degree of flexion. Gee, wouldn't it be easier to simply bounce up and down in a jog? My hand reached out for the speed control and started to tap it. 2.5, 2.8, 3.0, 3.4, 3.5....OK that's enough. The jogging was going pretty well. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered the surgeon saying "OK to walk/jog". Then, it slipped right out of my mind. I was enjoying my new found freedom so much I kept going for 30 minutes. I ended up with 1.6 miles. Normally, I would say "big woop" and slap myself for such a wimpy run. Not so today. Big celebration! I packed my gym bag for another try tomorrow. 1.7?

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Dry Bones (Skelton Bones)

With the toe bone connected to the foot bone,
And the foot bone connected to the ankle bone,
And the ankle bone connected to the leg bone.....

We all know these lyrics, don't we? Well, my trainer knows them better than anyone I know, and lives and breathes them as his occupation. Most importantly, I am ever so grateful to be partnered with him again for newest adventure in recovery. If you knew me during my Ironman training, then you knew I worked with a fantastic trainer, Keith. Quite literally, without him, I would never have crossed the finish line, much less cross it in the best shape of my life. His area of expertise revolves around biomechanics and corrective exercises that help you establish good movement patterns from which to build upon. It was the secret to my success at Ironman, and will be the same secret to success for this recovery and training for rigors of a fifty mile run. Under his coaching, I learned many myofascial release techniques using a foam roller and stick. I performed many exercises in his studio to correct my posture and biomechanics. He taught me that muscular imbalances cause biomechanical changes which can lead to injury. My two year Ironman journey and successful finish was nearly injury free thanks to Keith. I crossed that finish line happy and healthy, and walked away all smiles. Realize, 50% of the finishers have to hit the med tent. Not me. I give most of the credit for that to my trainer. Oh yeah, I am not a compensated spokesperson, just a believer in his program.

Where am I going with all of this? As I said earlier, I am honored and lucky to be partnered with Keith again. He now has his own business (irehab.com), an online gateway to personalized rehabilitation and exercise. We will be working together to document this journey of mine, which has already begun. It is critical that I create the muscular balance I need at the very beginning of my recovery so I have good biomechanics to work from as I begin to run again.

Along those lines, the first exercise I am doing is designed to avoid fibrosis in the bottom of my foot as a result of lack of flexibility. I am using a golf ball, covered with a towel, to gently roll my foot over. At first, I thought this was silly. I can tell you that in one minute, my foot loved it. It was like getting a mini-massage! It's a giant "ahhhhhhh" after a long day.

Monday will bring my first attempt at walk/jog on the treadmill. I am actually thinking it will be easier to jog than walk, as walking really forces my toe to bend, which is still having some pain from the surgery. It's recovering very quickly though, and I look forward to just dealing with the workouts!

Dress Up and Show Up

Today was my first trip back in to the gym since a couple of weeks prior to the surgery. The first hurdle was in the bathroom this morning, getting my running shoes on. I loosened the laces, and gingerly pushed my foot down in to the shoe. Much to my amazement, they felt fantastic and provided much needed support that running around the house barefoot doesn't give. Once at the gym, I headed over to the elliptical and dialed in an easy interval workout. Almost immediately, my right quad fired up and began to ache. I was reminded to really focus on being balanced by the burn in my right leg. The recovering foot cramped, stung, whined and generally started to complain at me within minutes of starting the workout. I wanted to quit a dozen times, but didn't. I kept reminding myself that the pain I had endured prior to surgery was much worse (and different) than the pain I am having during recovery. I kept checking my posture in my reflection in the glass, and struggled to stay symmetrical. The good news is this mental game kept me so busy I wasn't clock watching. With a few minutes to go on the clock, I knew I had beat the first challenge workout. I wandered (wandered? heck...limped) over to the free weights and pumped out a few sets to make it an honest workout. I left the gym jubilant, revived, and very happy I stuck it out. It's great to be back in the saddle again!

Monday, April 25, 2011

Stitchless

Today was my 2 week follow up appointment with Dr. L. Mostly, I was to show up to have the stitches removed (yes, I must admit I was tempted to snip...). I saw him in the hallway as I made my way down to x-ray for the obligatory post surgery films. I loved it when he said "Hey! You're doing great!".

This was my first chance to chat with him after the surgery. I had a few questions for him. The pin in my right foot was so loose it spun around when he tried to grab it. OK, good thing I had that removed. No telling what that could have led to. My hallux rigidus turned out to be grade 3 (scale is 1, 2 or 3). He told me I had 50% bone-on-bone, and when he opened the toe, there were many pieces of bone fragments that had come off of the new little "wings" my body was creating to cushion itself. OK, that confirms the reason it was hurting so bad.

The bigger question was "when can I?". Loved the answer. Cleared for elliptical and/or bike tomorrow morning, and cleared for walk/jog next Monday. I was cautioned that I will have a few steps forward and one backward for a few weeks. He reminded me to pay attention to any swelling, and back off accordingly. I was also instructed on correct massage techniques to help the scar tissue dissipate and aid in the scar becoming as supple as one can make a scar.

The best thing he said: "I usually have my patients come back for another 4 week followup, but you....you go and have a nice life, call me if you need me".

Yippee! A successful surgery. On to the recovery!

Friday, April 22, 2011

Obstacle One

I developed pain in my left foot three years ago, while training for Outer Banks Marathon. It was nagging, but disappeared during my recovery from the race. I ramped up again for City of Oaks Marathon in the fall, and the pain returned with a vengeance. I started to race half marathon's to keep the pain in check, and that worked OK for another season. I was ready to get it looked at in 2009 when I had the accident that broke my arm, and brought me a prosthetic elbow. Honestly, I needed some distance between that and any thought of foot surgery. I tried to train for my favorite half marathon distance, American Tobacco Trail, this spring. I found myself unable to even put a shoe on without intense pain, and couldn't run more than a couple of miles without being in pain for days. The pain woke me up, and made my toe throb all day long. It was when I had to withdraw from the race that I gave in and called the orthopaedic surgeon. I was diagnosed with hallux rigidus of the 1st MTP, 3rd degree. It was salvageable with a cheilectomy. While I was under anesthesia, the surgeon also removed hardware that was installed on my right foot in 1999 that had worked its way loose. Nothing like a double foot surgery at the beginning of a dream to run a 50 mile race. It's been two weeks since surgery, and the recovery is going quite nicely. I dropped the crutches on day 3, and drove my car on day 9. Left the elevator behind today in favor of the stairs. Stitches come out on Monday, and I'm sure I'll be in the gym sometime next week to start learning to walk and run all over again. If I was concerned about wearing fancy sandals, I may have issues. Alas, I am more interested in functionality than scars!

So it begins

Crazy? Maybe. Dedicated? Most certainly. My family and friends know me well enough to know that I have learned how to achieve a goal. They watched me dream of Ironman, watched me as I trained my mind and body to qualify, worried about me during the two years of training for Ironman once I had qualified, and waited for me at the finish line. That race changed me forever. The experience completely and thoroughly altered the very fabric of who I am. Five years have passed since that day, and I have continued to long for another vision quest of that magnitude or greater. I've held the dream of Fifty at Sixty for some time now. Now, at 56, I've committed to the journey. Not unlike my Ironman journey, there are obstacles to overcome. Most notably, I needed surgery on both feet to even begin running again. In typical runner fashion, I put that surgery off for 3 years, until my body gave me no alternative. Fix or quit. I called my trusted orthopaedic surgeon, who in 2009 fixed my shattered radial head so fantastically. Surgery was on April 11, 2011. The stitches will be removed on Monday. Training begins on Tuesday. I have no idea where it will lead me, but there is no doubt in my mind the journey will be worthy.

And, like Ironman, I won't be able to complete the journey by myself. I am supported again by my family and friends, my running partners, and my employer. I am incredibly lucky to have partnered again with my Ironman coach, confidant and trainer....the incomparable Keith Krugh. Without Keith, I would still just have a dream. Keith will be working with me as I negotiate the unknown of my rehabilitation from the surgery and the rigors of training (and staying healthy) for an ultra distance run.

What follows here is my chronicle of the journey. Please join me as I reach for the stars again.