Some people blog to keep themselves accountable to their goals. I am one of those people who has the opposite problem, at least when it comes to running – goals always mess me up. If I set a goal, I have to do it no matter what, or at least I used to. I don’t think I’m much different than most runners. It’s like I tell my students: Most runners I know will finish a workout no matter what. Five miles is the goal and my right foot falls off? No problem, I still have one good foot; I’ll hop home.
I can become way too anal about the workouts and doing them just because I set them (often leading to injury), which is hilariously stupid since I’m not likely to ever win a race (oh and I guess I would have to enter a race to even think about winning one).So I’m trying to abandon this notion of “goals” for now and embrace ultramarathoner and creator of ChiRunning, Danny Dreyer’s philosophy of turning running into a holistic practice rather than a fitness sport. I am working on focusing my mind, relaxing my body and getting a great workout. All that without pain and injury.
I’m still too focused on results. It’s not as if I’m setting any speed records but I still like knowing my times, even if they are slow. I like checking my heart rate average (which is way too high and hopefully a cardiologist will tell me why soon, but that’s a post for another day). I like deciding how far to run that day and knowing when I’ve hit the mark.
On the other hand, I am learning – about as fast as my running times – how to listen to my body. How to “body sense” and feel every sensation in my body as I run rather than ignoring that little twinge that later turns into a little pain that over a few runs turns into a bigger pain and then maybe becomes an injury. And it’s working. The more I relax, the better I run and the better my body feels after a run.
So now instead of goals, I make “plans.” When those plans go awry, it’s everything I have to actually stop and walk it in. But I’m getting better at it. Experience tells me going home early one day means I’ll be able to run the next. But plowing through, ignoring a whispering knee or shin ache can knock me down for more than a few days thanks to a variety of car accidents, a childhood fall from a top bunk straight onto my tailbone, and high school and college sports injuries or even something as simple as poor eating. (Given that I thought I’d never be able to run even 1 mile ever again because of injuries, I should be grateful just to be running at all.)
Maybe I’m the only person who has had this problem of plowing through pain and ramping up my miles and speed too quickly, but I doubt it. I see too many people taking my ChiRunning workshop trying to eliminate plantar fasciitis, knee pain, back pain or any other number of issues.
Danny believes we can run well into our 90s with his technique. I’m a believer but it’ll be up to me to make it happen. He says we get injured for two reasons – poor biomechanics and doing too much too soon. His technique has fixed the first issue and I’m working to fix the second.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone
Before my doc asked me to quit running, I liked running but it didn’t like me. I could get shin splints in a half mile. I suffered with daily back pain. So when the doctor suggested I stop running so he could fix my back, I reluctantly agreed -- with a twinge of relief.
Every so often, I would try to run again. Even if my back played along other parts of my body would fight back. I would feel the shin splints. The cartilage under my kneecaps has been shredded from catching fast-pitch softball in high school. So besides that crushed glass sound my knees make when they bend, a half-mile run would leave my knees screaming at me for 10 days.
I had never been a great runner. Check that: I was always painfully S….L….O….W. I played high school and college sports, but made sure the sports required sprints not miles. 2 or 3 miles was about all I could manage and toward the end of my earlier running days, I welcomed every traffic light I could find.
During running purgatory, I discovered the bike, thanks to my husband, the Colonel. I loved it, but as any runner knows, the endorphin release you get from a bike vs. running is like the difference between a Chevrolet Aveo and a Mercedes Benz.
The more time that went by that I could no longer run, the more I missed it. Why, I’m not sure really. It only caused me pain. I’d run only two races in my life – a 9.6 mile run and a 10K and both were miserable experiences. I developed performance anxiety and got psyched out not psyched up. So by race time, I was exhausted. I think it was my desire to compete, along with the reality that I might be able to beat the walkers – if I really pushed it.
Or maybe it’s my sister’s fault. She began running with her husband about 8 years ago and has done a couple of marathons. She isn’t fast either – must be a genetic thing – but she would go on and on about the race atmosphere. She made it sound fun again.
Two years later, while doing an Internet search for something with “chi” in it, up popped a book called, ChiRunning by Danny Dreyer. (OK, let me say right here and now, I don’t intend to use this blog to specifically promote Chirunning. But here’s the thing – it’s been so amazing for me that I’m sure it will work its way into my entries more often than not. Don’t we all get excited about anything that helps us run better?)
Run pain-free and injury-free it said. At this point, I'd have stood on my head an hour a day if I thought it would get me running again. I bought the book, and it made total sense. We get hurt for only two reasons – poor biomechanics and/or doing too much too soon. I was guilty of both – and often still am at least of the latter (another story for later). Then I bought the DVD. Then I took a workshop. Most of the instructors then were from California, but I found a class in Baltimore. So I hopped on a flight one night, took the class and a flight home the next day and have been running ever since.
Can I say I’ve run pain free for the last 2 years? Not at the beginning. Not while I was experimenting and trying to learn the technique. (After all the sports injuries and a few car accidents that weren’t my fault, my back continues to challenge me as well as some other issues.) ChiRunning is easy to learn but you have to rewire your brain a bit. It took me longer than most people but within a couple of months I’d made great progress.
I’m running a lot farther than I did 25 years ago and it takes a lot less effort than it did back then. And yes, I’m running without pain. Who’da thought?
Every so often, I would try to run again. Even if my back played along other parts of my body would fight back. I would feel the shin splints. The cartilage under my kneecaps has been shredded from catching fast-pitch softball in high school. So besides that crushed glass sound my knees make when they bend, a half-mile run would leave my knees screaming at me for 10 days.
I had never been a great runner. Check that: I was always painfully S….L….O….W. I played high school and college sports, but made sure the sports required sprints not miles. 2 or 3 miles was about all I could manage and toward the end of my earlier running days, I welcomed every traffic light I could find.
During running purgatory, I discovered the bike, thanks to my husband, the Colonel. I loved it, but as any runner knows, the endorphin release you get from a bike vs. running is like the difference between a Chevrolet Aveo and a Mercedes Benz.
The more time that went by that I could no longer run, the more I missed it. Why, I’m not sure really. It only caused me pain. I’d run only two races in my life – a 9.6 mile run and a 10K and both were miserable experiences. I developed performance anxiety and got psyched out not psyched up. So by race time, I was exhausted. I think it was my desire to compete, along with the reality that I might be able to beat the walkers – if I really pushed it.
Or maybe it’s my sister’s fault. She began running with her husband about 8 years ago and has done a couple of marathons. She isn’t fast either – must be a genetic thing – but she would go on and on about the race atmosphere. She made it sound fun again.
Two years later, while doing an Internet search for something with “chi” in it, up popped a book called, ChiRunning by Danny Dreyer. (OK, let me say right here and now, I don’t intend to use this blog to specifically promote Chirunning. But here’s the thing – it’s been so amazing for me that I’m sure it will work its way into my entries more often than not. Don’t we all get excited about anything that helps us run better?)
Run pain-free and injury-free it said. At this point, I'd have stood on my head an hour a day if I thought it would get me running again. I bought the book, and it made total sense. We get hurt for only two reasons – poor biomechanics and/or doing too much too soon. I was guilty of both – and often still am at least of the latter (another story for later). Then I bought the DVD. Then I took a workshop. Most of the instructors then were from California, but I found a class in Baltimore. So I hopped on a flight one night, took the class and a flight home the next day and have been running ever since.
Can I say I’ve run pain free for the last 2 years? Not at the beginning. Not while I was experimenting and trying to learn the technique. (After all the sports injuries and a few car accidents that weren’t my fault, my back continues to challenge me as well as some other issues.) ChiRunning is easy to learn but you have to rewire your brain a bit. It took me longer than most people but within a couple of months I’d made great progress.
I’m running a lot farther than I did 25 years ago and it takes a lot less effort than it did back then. And yes, I’m running without pain. Who’da thought?
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Let's Get Started
Why would I want to write a blog about running? Call it blogger envy or peer passion. I keep reading all of these great blogs – from great runners to recreational runners, from ultra-marathoners to first-time 10K runners. And through all of their struggles comes this self-awareness, this confidence, this euphoria. And it makes me jealous or at least a tad envious. Besides that, some of you are just dang funny.
One of the first things I do at my computer each day is check out the hilarious and sarcastic Half Fast and The Lawsons do Dallas. Then there’s Running Susan, Pieces of Me, Ramblings of a SlowPoke, Run With Me and about 30 others that draw me back day after day. I especially appreciate the bloggers who write every day.
I love to see how you support one another yet are masters at self-deprecation. I enjoy reading a virgin marathoner’s account of that first time s/he crosses the finish line. (Inevitably, I have tears in my eyes.) I love following their quest, reading about their ups and downs and knowing I’m not really alone when I struggle. There’s comfort in that. And a glimmer of hope – and ego – that I might someday help someone the same way with this blog.
The good news is that I doubt anyone will find this blog for a while much less read it, so this is really me just getting a chance to sound off about this or that. Sadly, I’m not nearly as funny as Half Fast or The Lawsons, not nearly as endearing as Ramblings of a Slow Poke, not nearly as adventuresome as Run With Me. But hopefully with time, this blog will become a metaphor for my running – each getting better with time and practice.
One of the first things I do at my computer each day is check out the hilarious and sarcastic Half Fast and The Lawsons do Dallas. Then there’s Running Susan, Pieces of Me, Ramblings of a SlowPoke, Run With Me and about 30 others that draw me back day after day. I especially appreciate the bloggers who write every day.
I love to see how you support one another yet are masters at self-deprecation. I enjoy reading a virgin marathoner’s account of that first time s/he crosses the finish line. (Inevitably, I have tears in my eyes.) I love following their quest, reading about their ups and downs and knowing I’m not really alone when I struggle. There’s comfort in that. And a glimmer of hope – and ego – that I might someday help someone the same way with this blog.
The good news is that I doubt anyone will find this blog for a while much less read it, so this is really me just getting a chance to sound off about this or that. Sadly, I’m not nearly as funny as Half Fast or The Lawsons, not nearly as endearing as Ramblings of a Slow Poke, not nearly as adventuresome as Run With Me. But hopefully with time, this blog will become a metaphor for my running – each getting better with time and practice.
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