Feeling off my game today.
A very young friend of mine....friendly acquaintance perhaps...had a horrible accident and might not be the same ever again. Head injury. He was someone who inspires me and reminds me of the love and peace in the world.
I found out because a good friend called to let me know how she found out about the accident (she and he are closer) and was very upset. Both about the incident and how the news and details transpired.
---
A different friendly acquaintance was not accepted into an event that I did two years ago and loved. He, of course, has sour grapes. I totally get that. But I'm trying not to read the comments about it, because I want my experience with the event to remain untarnished.
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I run really slow. REALLY SLOW. I did a 5k at a race a few weeks ago. Finished in 1:06. My previous best 5k (in November 2011) was 0:48. I'll get back there, but it's not gonna be anytime real soon. And it's making me not want to race at all. And I'm not sure how I feel about how I feel about that.
My feelings about my feelings are very complicated.
And annoying.
I don't want to always be last. I really enjoy running. But being last and always the slowest (which translates to worst whether anyone likes it or not) makes me feel bad about myself. I've got enough going on in life that makes me feel bad---I don't want something I love to do to make me feel bad, too.
And I'm kinda getting tired of going to races I can't run. I'm barely trained for a 5k, and so many of the trail races we go to start at 10k. And I'm not sure how I feel---but it's not entirely good---about how race-oriented running has become for most/all of my running friends.
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Bah. Humbug.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Friday, June 21, 2013
I took yesterday as a rest day from walking. I did go to yoga and it was hard but good. Dancer and dolphin both always kick my butt.
I meant to walk this morning, but forgot to bring my walking shoes when I left the house at 6am to go turn stones. The yoga studio hosted a 108 Sun Salutations to welcome summer and the solstice. I am the designated counter and use stones to count. They did 4 sets of 27.
I can do sun salutations again, post surgery, but there is no way I could get even to 1 set of 27, so I volunteered to count.
And then came home and took a nap.
Well, after I ate two donuts but lets not talk about that. Aside from the two donuts I've eaten really well this week.
Yesterday I printed off exercises to strengthen feet/calves but then, you know, didn't do any of said exercises. I'll do them here shortly. Yoga again this evening and if it's a cool enough a walk after...on the trail, even, I think.
I meant to walk this morning, but forgot to bring my walking shoes when I left the house at 6am to go turn stones. The yoga studio hosted a 108 Sun Salutations to welcome summer and the solstice. I am the designated counter and use stones to count. They did 4 sets of 27.
I can do sun salutations again, post surgery, but there is no way I could get even to 1 set of 27, so I volunteered to count.
And then came home and took a nap.
Well, after I ate two donuts but lets not talk about that. Aside from the two donuts I've eaten really well this week.
Yesterday I printed off exercises to strengthen feet/calves but then, you know, didn't do any of said exercises. I'll do them here shortly. Yoga again this evening and if it's a cool enough a walk after...on the trail, even, I think.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Bench Story
Or "back story." Whatever.
Back in the spring of 2010 I got into living a healthier life. Being diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes can do that to a girl. (Girl? I was 38 then.)
I started going to the gym regularly. Mostly I used the elliptical and did some weights. Then I hired a personal trainer who was beautiful and marvelous and helped me figure a lot of stuff out. I took a yoga foundations class. And then that fall I started walking. And walking. And I loved it. And I wanted to run. But....I was too afraid, embarrassed, ashamed of my body, slow, etc etc to actually do it. So I kept walking.
After about 9 months or so of lots of walking I decided it was time. I ran. I ran too fast at first and not very far at all. Then I met CKM who taught me the finer points of learning to become a runner. And I read books. Lots of books.
I became a runner. A slow runner. But a runner.
I also got back into yoga. And loved that, too.
A runner and a yogi. A plump runner and a plump yogi, but adjectives aside I was a runner and a yogi and an increasingly smaller one at that.
I ran a couple of races. My moment of pride to date is doing the 2011 Turkey Trot 5k in Ft Worth at just 7 minutes slower than my then 16 year old niece.
And then...I fell. I fell a lot. During my first race, a 10k (but I finished and finished strong.) Then on a visit to NYC. Then on the Lanana Trail here in Nacogdcohes. Repeat that last sentence three or four times. But I'd always RICE and then get back out there when I could.
Then came the morning of September 28, 2012. A Saturday. I got up to go on a run, then have porch tea with a new friend, and then to yoga. But before I got out of bed I could tell my lower back was hurting. I decided to forgo the run and went to LS for tea. And while there I decided my back hurt too much to go to yoga. And so it went the next several mornings until the pain began to creep up on me during the day. On Wednesday I decided to ignore the pain and went for a walk with Jessie (who had been a "sole sister" during the first year or so of walking.) We walked about two miles...two and a half. And it hurt, but I was doing okay. Until the next day. By noon I had made an appointment to see my doctor on Monday (soonest appointment). By the evening I was in so much pain that standing long enough to fix dinner wasn't possible. It hurt too much to think about eating. Sleep failed me.
I remember at one point I was lying face down on the cold tile floor of my bedroom and felt some relief. At 6am I was calling nearest and dearest local friends to let them know I was going to be missing work and getting myself to the doctor as soon as the doors opened. I'd be a walk-in. Fine.
And then, around 7am....I felt my left leg go numb. It started up around the top of my thigh and traveled down my leg until I couldn't feel my foot anymore. I couldn't lift my foot anymore. Drop foot.
I'll spare you the details of the next six months. There were XRays and an MRI and some Epidural Steroid Injections. There was a diagnosis of herniated discs at L3/L4, L4/L5, and L5/S1. By the time I got to surgery at the end of March it had been determined that it was the L4/L5 disc causing all the trouble. So I went into surgery, for a microdiscectomy and a foramenotomy. But during surgery the doc realized there was more trouble down in L5/S1 than he thought and took care of it, too.
And right away I started feeling better. Maybe sometime I'll detail the early part of the recovery process. But that's not what this blog is gonna be about. This is about dealing with the here and now.
While nerve was pinched and my brain and my tibial anterior were beginning to give each other the silent treatment...that's when I started falling. Tripping, always with my left foot, over a sidewalk rise or a pot hole or a tree root. And then when they weren't talking to each other at all anymore, the muscles in my left leg started to atrophy. My right leg did all the work. The drop foot wasn't extreme, but I had to use my quads and lift my knee higher to walk....my calf wasn't much involved in the process.
So here, I am. Almost 3 months post op and trying to regain the strength in my left leg and foot while also trying to re-teach my right leg not to work so hard. I'm back in yoga. I'm back to walking. But I am nowhere near where I was the day before I woke up with a back ache back in September.
Today I am really frustrated and feeling really bitchy about it. I walked just under a mile this afternoon and stopped to stretch at three benches. Twice I sat. Twice I felt like a bitch on a bench.
I'm a writer, and writing helps me process and work things out. So. That's the goal. To work things out and get back to where I was and continue improving and becoming healthy again.
Back in the spring of 2010 I got into living a healthier life. Being diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes can do that to a girl. (Girl? I was 38 then.)
I started going to the gym regularly. Mostly I used the elliptical and did some weights. Then I hired a personal trainer who was beautiful and marvelous and helped me figure a lot of stuff out. I took a yoga foundations class. And then that fall I started walking. And walking. And I loved it. And I wanted to run. But....I was too afraid, embarrassed, ashamed of my body, slow, etc etc to actually do it. So I kept walking.
After about 9 months or so of lots of walking I decided it was time. I ran. I ran too fast at first and not very far at all. Then I met CKM who taught me the finer points of learning to become a runner. And I read books. Lots of books.
I became a runner. A slow runner. But a runner.
I also got back into yoga. And loved that, too.
A runner and a yogi. A plump runner and a plump yogi, but adjectives aside I was a runner and a yogi and an increasingly smaller one at that.
I ran a couple of races. My moment of pride to date is doing the 2011 Turkey Trot 5k in Ft Worth at just 7 minutes slower than my then 16 year old niece.
And then...I fell. I fell a lot. During my first race, a 10k (but I finished and finished strong.) Then on a visit to NYC. Then on the Lanana Trail here in Nacogdcohes. Repeat that last sentence three or four times. But I'd always RICE and then get back out there when I could.
Then came the morning of September 28, 2012. A Saturday. I got up to go on a run, then have porch tea with a new friend, and then to yoga. But before I got out of bed I could tell my lower back was hurting. I decided to forgo the run and went to LS for tea. And while there I decided my back hurt too much to go to yoga. And so it went the next several mornings until the pain began to creep up on me during the day. On Wednesday I decided to ignore the pain and went for a walk with Jessie (who had been a "sole sister" during the first year or so of walking.) We walked about two miles...two and a half. And it hurt, but I was doing okay. Until the next day. By noon I had made an appointment to see my doctor on Monday (soonest appointment). By the evening I was in so much pain that standing long enough to fix dinner wasn't possible. It hurt too much to think about eating. Sleep failed me.
I remember at one point I was lying face down on the cold tile floor of my bedroom and felt some relief. At 6am I was calling nearest and dearest local friends to let them know I was going to be missing work and getting myself to the doctor as soon as the doors opened. I'd be a walk-in. Fine.
And then, around 7am....I felt my left leg go numb. It started up around the top of my thigh and traveled down my leg until I couldn't feel my foot anymore. I couldn't lift my foot anymore. Drop foot.
I'll spare you the details of the next six months. There were XRays and an MRI and some Epidural Steroid Injections. There was a diagnosis of herniated discs at L3/L4, L4/L5, and L5/S1. By the time I got to surgery at the end of March it had been determined that it was the L4/L5 disc causing all the trouble. So I went into surgery, for a microdiscectomy and a foramenotomy. But during surgery the doc realized there was more trouble down in L5/S1 than he thought and took care of it, too.
And right away I started feeling better. Maybe sometime I'll detail the early part of the recovery process. But that's not what this blog is gonna be about. This is about dealing with the here and now.
While nerve was pinched and my brain and my tibial anterior were beginning to give each other the silent treatment...that's when I started falling. Tripping, always with my left foot, over a sidewalk rise or a pot hole or a tree root. And then when they weren't talking to each other at all anymore, the muscles in my left leg started to atrophy. My right leg did all the work. The drop foot wasn't extreme, but I had to use my quads and lift my knee higher to walk....my calf wasn't much involved in the process.
So here, I am. Almost 3 months post op and trying to regain the strength in my left leg and foot while also trying to re-teach my right leg not to work so hard. I'm back in yoga. I'm back to walking. But I am nowhere near where I was the day before I woke up with a back ache back in September.
Today I am really frustrated and feeling really bitchy about it. I walked just under a mile this afternoon and stopped to stretch at three benches. Twice I sat. Twice I felt like a bitch on a bench.
I'm a writer, and writing helps me process and work things out. So. That's the goal. To work things out and get back to where I was and continue improving and becoming healthy again.
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