"You're still pretty impressive."
I turned around to see one of my favorite smiling faces, standing near the stationary bikes. I had just finished a hill workout (read: walk) on the treadmill, and I was getting my purse out of a cube locker.
"Thanks. I'm slowing down a bit," I told him. "Just gotta keep moving."
"Exactly," he said.
As I walked down to the locker room on Thursday, I mentally kicked myself for not fully accepting the compliment. The gentleman was being nice – and supportive. It was the same thing that he had done on several occasions over the past few months as I've opted for the treadmill over the roads for safety. The other times, I know, I had been more accepting and grateful.
The difference was how I felt about my workout. On Thursday, I walked. The other days I had ran. On Thursday, though grateful that my piriformis syndrome had improved, I was not satisfied that I was walking. I did not feel proud of my 40 minutes on the belt.
When I was running, I felt challenged. I felt accomplished. And, to be frank, I felt smug. It was easy to take a compliment from that gentleman after a run because I felt like I earned it. Maybe, even, I felt like I deserved it.
The 30 days since my piriformis got angry and screamed at me have been challenging and humbling. I had gone from a bad ass mother runner to someone struggling to walk to someone who feels OK but not 100 percent. I have felt so many emotions – excruciating pain, hope, despair, fear, relief.
Most of all, I felt disappointment.
When it came to this pregnancy, I had some high expectations. I came into it in good shape and determined to set my own (doctor-approved) rules for running. I wasn't going to cut back because it was expected nor was I going to slow down until my body put on the brakes.
It was an approach that helped me achieve things for which I could be proud: running my second fastest half marathon and another sub-2 four weeks later; running a sub-9 pace at the Gingerbread Pursuit; and maintaining what I considered to be respectable mileage until that fateful run.
However, the success also allowed me to be far too driven by the numbers – something I would not advise to anyone whose body is loaned out to the whims of a growing fetus. I had gotten to the point where I not only thought it would be nice to run the day I gave birth but I expected it. Not only that, I think there was a part of me that thought I should because I needed to prove something – to myself and others.
A stupid notion. Insanely stupid.
And so as I take stock and look ahead to how I'll spend the next five or so weeks, I know that one of the most important things I will need to do is redefine how I view my fitness. I can't quantify by miles ran or paces hit.
But I can qualify it.
I can move with intention. "Shopping is my cardio," the wise Carrie Bradshaw quipped. And though I'd love to call a trip to Kohl's a workout, it's not – even if I let pretty things distract me while lugging around a slow cooker. I can set aside time to walk, cycle or lift heavy(ish) things for the purpose of raising my heart rate, improving my mood and dripping some sweat.
I can move with purpose. This sentiment is one that hit home when I did Silver Sneakers training. Many of the exercises that are incorporated into a Silver Sneakers session are designed to improve the ability to perform activities of daily life, such as putting on sweaters, reaching for something in a cabinet and buttoning a shirt. These folks aren't exercising for a ripped body, bragging rights or ego. They are doing it to live a better life.
I can – and will – do exercises that will help my piriformis and, as such, strengthen my hips for labor. Bicep curls will get me used to lifting a carseat. (How can a 6-pound baby feel like 60 pounds? Put him in a car seat!) I will give myself bonus points, not the brownie kind, for forgetting to change weight for arms during barbell and getting in some extra training. Woodchops are great mimic for the motion of picking up a baby out of the crib and putting him on your shoulder. However, there's no simulator for spit up.
I can move free of judgment. The gentleman at the Y didn't care that I wasn't running, and 98 percent of the general population does not think less of me for doing low-impact exercise. And if there are people on the interwebs who don't think I'm doing enough, that I'm enough (a lifelong fear), then it's because of the ridiculous expectations that have been established by the disordered beat Ms. Jones mentality. (Sadly, I wonder if I'm a contributor.) I am going to do the best thing I can – be me – and be accepting.
Happy.
Proud.
Period.
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label injury. Show all posts
Friday, March 13, 2015
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Standing Strong: Resolving to Take Control
Do you know how to advocate for yourself, when it really matters?
It was one of my mom's favorite stories to tell, and it was not because it was particularly funny or embarrassing. Rather, it was a story of will and knowing what was right. It was a story of sticking to my principles, even if it didn't seem to be in my best interest.
I was in second grade. Precocious and self-assured. And definitely a mother hen to both my brother and cousin, who were in kindergarten.
It was Monday, and we were riding the bus from school to daycare. It was the start of a new drop-off for us. No longer would a day care helper meet the bus several blocks from the site but the bus would drop us at the center. I knew this, having been carefully instructed by my mother, as did my brother and cousin.
The person who didn't know? The bus driver. He pulled up to our old stop and waited for us to get off. But we did not. I told him that we were supposed to go to the daycare now and no one was there to meet us. Still, he insisted we get off. I held my ground, making sure the boys did not budge.
The driver called the transportation office, and the school, daycare and parents became involved. Still, I stood on that bus and refused to get off. It wasn't until some time later, when a daycare worker met us, that I willingly moved.
Even though I caused a great many headaches that day, I often look back to that story and almost revel. It's not because I think what I did was awesome but because I wonder what happened to that girl. How did I go from self-assured and almost indignant to meek and unwilling to stand up for myself?
Case in point: My most recent experience with physical therapy. When I went to my first visit, I shared that I was going to a new-to-me place that specialized in women's issues, e.g. pelvic floor strength, pregnancy. I was hopeful that going to such a place would not only be beneficial but speed along my recovery. I left cautiously optimistic that my case of piriformis syndrome could be treated and I would see consistent improvement from session to session.
But that optimism quickly faded after the second session. The hourlong appointment, which began nearly a half-hour late, was spent learning how to squat, pick up tables and carry shopping bags. Once I had adequately demonstrated proper form (on the first try), there was soft-tissue therapy for 10 minutes and I was left to stretch on my own. I limped out in more pain than I left.
No pain, no gain? Right? It's how I tried to reassure myself as I headed in for the next appointment, resolving to be positive. Again, the appointment was late and most of the session was spent learning to do every day tasks. This time, it was vacuuming – which I had told her that I don't do. Seriously, I don't. Feel free to nominate Mark for husband of the year.
I had another 10 minute soft tissue treatment, during which I listened to her talk about her dog escaping an invisible fence. It was boring but better than the previous session's conversation that was about a "difficult to please" patient. I contributed politely but the whole time I wondered about why I couldn't speak up and take ownership of the session. I was, after all, paying for the therapy and I deserved to get out of it what I needed. I didn't need to learn how to vacuum. I needed my butt to feel better so that I could walk and feel good and be a good mom. I didn't need her to tell me about dogs or patients; I needed her to advise me about additional solutions for my piriformis pain and how to cope until I found relief.
I walked out that day frustrated and limping, still. The pain stung with each step, and I resolved that I was not going back and I haven't. But I could not help but wonder: Where was that girl who could stand up and say no? Where was she when I needed to say, "I don't think what you are doing is right, and I deserve for it to be so"?
I know she is there, I do. I just need to learn how to find her, and I intend to spend the next six weeks doing so. As I embark on a VBAC, I will have to be my own advocate. I will have to be sure of myself and what I'm doing.
And though this post seems like a long-winded way of complaining about my PT experience, it's more of a plea – to myself and you. There are times when we know things are not the way they should be. It is up to you to demand better and, not only that, but to be prepared to do so.
It was one of my mom's favorite stories to tell, and it was not because it was particularly funny or embarrassing. Rather, it was a story of will and knowing what was right. It was a story of sticking to my principles, even if it didn't seem to be in my best interest.
I was in second grade. Precocious and self-assured. And definitely a mother hen to both my brother and cousin, who were in kindergarten.
It was Monday, and we were riding the bus from school to daycare. It was the start of a new drop-off for us. No longer would a day care helper meet the bus several blocks from the site but the bus would drop us at the center. I knew this, having been carefully instructed by my mother, as did my brother and cousin.
The person who didn't know? The bus driver. He pulled up to our old stop and waited for us to get off. But we did not. I told him that we were supposed to go to the daycare now and no one was there to meet us. Still, he insisted we get off. I held my ground, making sure the boys did not budge.
The driver called the transportation office, and the school, daycare and parents became involved. Still, I stood on that bus and refused to get off. It wasn't until some time later, when a daycare worker met us, that I willingly moved.
Even though I caused a great many headaches that day, I often look back to that story and almost revel. It's not because I think what I did was awesome but because I wonder what happened to that girl. How did I go from self-assured and almost indignant to meek and unwilling to stand up for myself?
Case in point: My most recent experience with physical therapy. When I went to my first visit, I shared that I was going to a new-to-me place that specialized in women's issues, e.g. pelvic floor strength, pregnancy. I was hopeful that going to such a place would not only be beneficial but speed along my recovery. I left cautiously optimistic that my case of piriformis syndrome could be treated and I would see consistent improvement from session to session.
But that optimism quickly faded after the second session. The hourlong appointment, which began nearly a half-hour late, was spent learning how to squat, pick up tables and carry shopping bags. Once I had adequately demonstrated proper form (on the first try), there was soft-tissue therapy for 10 minutes and I was left to stretch on my own. I limped out in more pain than I left.
No pain, no gain? Right? It's how I tried to reassure myself as I headed in for the next appointment, resolving to be positive. Again, the appointment was late and most of the session was spent learning to do every day tasks. This time, it was vacuuming – which I had told her that I don't do. Seriously, I don't. Feel free to nominate Mark for husband of the year.
I had another 10 minute soft tissue treatment, during which I listened to her talk about her dog escaping an invisible fence. It was boring but better than the previous session's conversation that was about a "difficult to please" patient. I contributed politely but the whole time I wondered about why I couldn't speak up and take ownership of the session. I was, after all, paying for the therapy and I deserved to get out of it what I needed. I didn't need to learn how to vacuum. I needed my butt to feel better so that I could walk and feel good and be a good mom. I didn't need her to tell me about dogs or patients; I needed her to advise me about additional solutions for my piriformis pain and how to cope until I found relief.
I walked out that day frustrated and limping, still. The pain stung with each step, and I resolved that I was not going back and I haven't. But I could not help but wonder: Where was that girl who could stand up and say no? Where was she when I needed to say, "I don't think what you are doing is right, and I deserve for it to be so"?
I know she is there, I do. I just need to learn how to find her, and I intend to spend the next six weeks doing so. As I embark on a VBAC, I will have to be my own advocate. I will have to be sure of myself and what I'm doing.
And though this post seems like a long-winded way of complaining about my PT experience, it's more of a plea – to myself and you. There are times when we know things are not the way they should be. It is up to you to demand better and, not only that, but to be prepared to do so.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Five for Friday
It was a milestone.
On Wednesday, I walked down the hallway to the far away bathroom and I didn't feel a pang until I was halfway there. I almost stopped to do a happy dance but I figured that it would not be socially acceptable to pop, lock and drop it in a place of business.
Also, I don't think I could get up.
1. So, yes, after two weeks of frustration, I am starting to see improvement with my piriformis. I still have discomfort even just walking but the pain is less severe and my gait is improving. As Mark told me, my waddle isn't so gimpy.
2. I changed up quite a few things this week to see whether it would improve the situation but I would be hard-pressed to say that X, Y and Z helped but not F, G, H. I'm even hesitant to share because I don't want anyone to mistake what I'm doing for actual advice.
But, for the sake of honesty, here's my self-prescribed therapy: I quit going to the actual physical therapist, stopped incorporating pigeon into my stretching routine and eliminated sugary treats. I added cherry juice, epsom salts, Deep Blue doTERRA oil and began using my Tiger Tail before doing my new stretches.
3. Thankfully, I've been able to teach my classes and the regulars have been understanding if I'm doing a modification or switching things up. Last night, though, I had a HILARIOUS moment. A newcomer to boot camp gave me the strangest look and just sort of stared. I asked if she was OK and she seemed hesitant to answer. Then, almost stuttering, she asked if I was pregnant.
Why yes, yes I a.m. It's sort of obvious at this point, especially with a Fort4Fitness tee strained over my belly and being relegated to wearing Mark's sweats.
"You're not doing this are you?" she asked.
No, no I'm not. But only because of my bum bum, I thought. There's nothing in this particular workout that I couldn't or shouldn't do. (It was a fun 30-20-10 workout, AMRAP style. Six minutes to complete as many sets as possible of three exercises. The first exercise, a cardio style, had 30 reps; the second exercise, large muscle group, had 20 reps; and a balance or core exercise was last with 10 reps. I think we got through four different groups of exercises in the 45 minutes.)
Anyway, it just made me laugh that people see the belly and think I can't work out.
4. While I'm anxious to be 100 percent and resume all physical activity, I have to say that this down time has been nice. I've been able to sleep in, relax (somewhat) and do more with the family. Novel, I tell you.
This morning, for example, Mark wasn't feeling great and stayed home. He and Miles played video games while I hung prints and curtains in baby boy's room.
5. And because babies are more fun to talk about, I am *this* close to being done with the room. I just need to touch up the paint on the dresser and bookshelf and get a few more decorations. The theme is dinosaurs but I'm trying not to be overly cutesy. On the book shelf, I want to display some 3-D dinosaur puzzles and I might get one more thing to hang.
Also, I need to buy baby socks ... because I had a dream that I didn't have enough.
On Wednesday, I walked down the hallway to the far away bathroom and I didn't feel a pang until I was halfway there. I almost stopped to do a happy dance but I figured that it would not be socially acceptable to pop, lock and drop it in a place of business.
Also, I don't think I could get up.
1. So, yes, after two weeks of frustration, I am starting to see improvement with my piriformis. I still have discomfort even just walking but the pain is less severe and my gait is improving. As Mark told me, my waddle isn't so gimpy.
2. I changed up quite a few things this week to see whether it would improve the situation but I would be hard-pressed to say that X, Y and Z helped but not F, G, H. I'm even hesitant to share because I don't want anyone to mistake what I'm doing for actual advice.
But, for the sake of honesty, here's my self-prescribed therapy: I quit going to the actual physical therapist, stopped incorporating pigeon into my stretching routine and eliminated sugary treats. I added cherry juice, epsom salts, Deep Blue doTERRA oil and began using my Tiger Tail before doing my new stretches.
3. Thankfully, I've been able to teach my classes and the regulars have been understanding if I'm doing a modification or switching things up. Last night, though, I had a HILARIOUS moment. A newcomer to boot camp gave me the strangest look and just sort of stared. I asked if she was OK and she seemed hesitant to answer. Then, almost stuttering, she asked if I was pregnant.
Why yes, yes I a.m. It's sort of obvious at this point, especially with a Fort4Fitness tee strained over my belly and being relegated to wearing Mark's sweats.
"You're not doing this are you?" she asked.
No, no I'm not. But only because of my bum bum, I thought. There's nothing in this particular workout that I couldn't or shouldn't do. (It was a fun 30-20-10 workout, AMRAP style. Six minutes to complete as many sets as possible of three exercises. The first exercise, a cardio style, had 30 reps; the second exercise, large muscle group, had 20 reps; and a balance or core exercise was last with 10 reps. I think we got through four different groups of exercises in the 45 minutes.)
Anyway, it just made me laugh that people see the belly and think I can't work out.
4. While I'm anxious to be 100 percent and resume all physical activity, I have to say that this down time has been nice. I've been able to sleep in, relax (somewhat) and do more with the family. Novel, I tell you.
This morning, for example, Mark wasn't feeling great and stayed home. He and Miles played video games while I hung prints and curtains in baby boy's room.
5. And because babies are more fun to talk about, I am *this* close to being done with the room. I just need to touch up the paint on the dresser and bookshelf and get a few more decorations. The theme is dinosaurs but I'm trying not to be overly cutesy. On the book shelf, I want to display some 3-D dinosaur puzzles and I might get one more thing to hang.
Also, I need to buy baby socks ... because I had a dream that I didn't have enough.
Friday, February 20, 2015
The Magic Cure? Tales from Injury Row
What would you be willing to try to see progress or get relief?
"Check this out," my friend wrote. "I've been trying it for about 24 hours now and I think it's helping. Sounds crazy, I know, but if it takes away the pain in my hip and piriformis, I'm in."
Attached was a link to an article on People's Pharmacy that told of the benefits, so to speak, of putting soap under the bed sheets. Bar soap has been used, it says, to treat sciatica, bursitis and leg and arm cramps. As the sciatic nerve goes straight through the piriformis, it only makes sense that the home remedy could be used for alleviating the pain of the tight muscle.
So my friend had taken a bar of soap and used a knife to make flakes. The flakes were put in a knee-high stocking, and she was able to put it under the sheets, on her chair cushion or in her waistband.
And yes, it did sound crazy but the idea was not 100 percent alien to me. We ran a medical column in the paper for years, and the author repeatedly suggested putting a bar of soap to cure, well, anything. His advice was so frequent that it was a running joke in the newsroom.
It's understandable then that I laughed when my friend shared her story. Her results, though? They made me pause. Could I be crazy, too?
The answer: Obviously.
Wednesday night, I took a travel-size bar of soap and wrapped it in a sweat towel that I had accidentally taken from the Y. As I have to sleep on my side, I wasn't sure how a bar of soap under the sheets would help the hip if it was in the air so I decided to try something new with placement. As in, I tucked it in my pajama pants. It stayed there through the night as I rolled from right to left and struggled to get comfortable, a near impossibility at this point.
I was curious but not necessarily hopeful when I woke up Thursday morning. I did the old lady roll out of bed and took a few steps toward the bathroom.
Oochy, ouchy, OH! The soap had not worked. Not. At. All.
"Nothing lost, nothing gained," I thought to my self as I proceeded to finish the jaunt to the toilet to eliminate my pregnant bladder. But in the, oh, 45 seconds that it took, I forgot about the soap in my pants. And it fell out. Into the toilet. So not only did the experiment not work, I was fishing a bar of soap out of toilet water before I had my coffee. It's not only disgusting but tricky, taking far longer than one would expect.
I then washed my hands 7 times and lathered them in rubbing alcohol. And then I had coffee. Lots of it.
The whole experiment made me wonder just what one would be willing to do to get better? Right now, I'd probably do salacious things to get a cortisone shot in my bum ... which is probably the least crazy thing I've found/considered to ease my pain.
Essential oils. I have taken to using these occasionally after reader Sara reached out to me and wrote a GUEST POST about its use. When I strained my hip in 2013, I used the Deep Blue blend from doTERRA to give myself an edge during healing and therapy. I've continued to use it when I've felt niggles and have tried it with my bum. But, it's a little hard to apply oil to the back side and get it in the right spot. Also, the piriformis is so deep that I'm not sure the oil gets to where it needs to go. I have been interested in trying the Deep Blue Rub, especially since my massage therapist used it last week.
Diet. My grandma had a big book of home remedies that she left on the TV stand and often referred to when things went awry. It's from that book where she got the idea to eat cherries when her gout flared up. Tart cherries have anti-inflammatory properties and after a few days of eating them by the bowl, her gout gimp would improve and within a week she was back to normal. There are some other foods, according to my resources {aka Google}, that improve inflammation. Since PS is agitation/muscle inflammation, I'm hoping a cherry smoothie a day will keep the therapist away. Or maybe I should start with cherry pie ...
Salt caves. I found this one thanks to Groupon and a deal about an hour away from me. The owner claims that visitors to the salt cave, filled with salt from the Himalayas in Pakistan, experience relief for chronic pain, respiratory conditions, skin conditions and more. The cost is $30 and from what I can tell, you sit in a room with a bunch of salt. Please note: I am not doing this. It seems even more ridiculous than the soap.
Tell me: Have you had success with a non-traditional therapy? What's the craziest thing you've tried?
"Check this out," my friend wrote. "I've been trying it for about 24 hours now and I think it's helping. Sounds crazy, I know, but if it takes away the pain in my hip and piriformis, I'm in."
Attached was a link to an article on People's Pharmacy that told of the benefits, so to speak, of putting soap under the bed sheets. Bar soap has been used, it says, to treat sciatica, bursitis and leg and arm cramps. As the sciatic nerve goes straight through the piriformis, it only makes sense that the home remedy could be used for alleviating the pain of the tight muscle.
So my friend had taken a bar of soap and used a knife to make flakes. The flakes were put in a knee-high stocking, and she was able to put it under the sheets, on her chair cushion or in her waistband.
And yes, it did sound crazy but the idea was not 100 percent alien to me. We ran a medical column in the paper for years, and the author repeatedly suggested putting a bar of soap to cure, well, anything. His advice was so frequent that it was a running joke in the newsroom.
It's understandable then that I laughed when my friend shared her story. Her results, though? They made me pause. Could I be crazy, too?
The answer: Obviously.
Wednesday night, I took a travel-size bar of soap and wrapped it in a sweat towel that I had accidentally taken from the Y. As I have to sleep on my side, I wasn't sure how a bar of soap under the sheets would help the hip if it was in the air so I decided to try something new with placement. As in, I tucked it in my pajama pants. It stayed there through the night as I rolled from right to left and struggled to get comfortable, a near impossibility at this point.
I was curious but not necessarily hopeful when I woke up Thursday morning. I did the old lady roll out of bed and took a few steps toward the bathroom.
Oochy, ouchy, OH! The soap had not worked. Not. At. All.
"Nothing lost, nothing gained," I thought to my self as I proceeded to finish the jaunt to the toilet to eliminate my pregnant bladder. But in the, oh, 45 seconds that it took, I forgot about the soap in my pants. And it fell out. Into the toilet. So not only did the experiment not work, I was fishing a bar of soap out of toilet water before I had my coffee. It's not only disgusting but tricky, taking far longer than one would expect.
I then washed my hands 7 times and lathered them in rubbing alcohol. And then I had coffee. Lots of it.
The whole experiment made me wonder just what one would be willing to do to get better? Right now, I'd probably do salacious things to get a cortisone shot in my bum ... which is probably the least crazy thing I've found/considered to ease my pain.
Essential oils. I have taken to using these occasionally after reader Sara reached out to me and wrote a GUEST POST about its use. When I strained my hip in 2013, I used the Deep Blue blend from doTERRA to give myself an edge during healing and therapy. I've continued to use it when I've felt niggles and have tried it with my bum. But, it's a little hard to apply oil to the back side and get it in the right spot. Also, the piriformis is so deep that I'm not sure the oil gets to where it needs to go. I have been interested in trying the Deep Blue Rub, especially since my massage therapist used it last week.
Diet. My grandma had a big book of home remedies that she left on the TV stand and often referred to when things went awry. It's from that book where she got the idea to eat cherries when her gout flared up. Tart cherries have anti-inflammatory properties and after a few days of eating them by the bowl, her gout gimp would improve and within a week she was back to normal. There are some other foods, according to my resources {aka Google}, that improve inflammation. Since PS is agitation/muscle inflammation, I'm hoping a cherry smoothie a day will keep the therapist away. Or maybe I should start with cherry pie ...
Salt caves. I found this one thanks to Groupon and a deal about an hour away from me. The owner claims that visitors to the salt cave, filled with salt from the Himalayas in Pakistan, experience relief for chronic pain, respiratory conditions, skin conditions and more. The cost is $30 and from what I can tell, you sit in a room with a bunch of salt. Please note: I am not doing this. It seems even more ridiculous than the soap.
Tell me: Have you had success with a non-traditional therapy? What's the craziest thing you've tried?
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Tail End: 6 Ways I've Turned Into My Grandma
Injury update: My bum is still bum. But, it's being less of an ass than it was.
I have ditched the crutches that I so required Thursday and Friday. I no longer wake up in pain and can walk a few stiff steps before I start to feel the pain. I can take steps without crying though the further in the day it is, the more I wince. For the most part, the pain is now local to just the right cheek and no longer radiates to the lower back, hamstrings and into the calf. The credit goes to rest, as much as I can get; PT-prescribed exercises and stretches; and some posture modifications.
But the experience is still frustrating. Most everything I do involves some level of pain or discomfort and a lot of things require planning and thought. Things as simple as getting in and out of the car.
I am channeling my inner Grandma, though, and trying to see the positive ... or at least not feel sorry for myself. I think I'm doing it so much that I might, well, be turning into her.
1. I say things like, "As long as I can hold onto the cart, I'll be fine." I did this at Target and Menards over the weekend. My grandma uses the cart instead of a walker, and I used the cart to help take some of the weight off my leg.
2. I had to have a therapy session to learn how to get in and out of bed. I also had to get tips on getting in and out of a car. My grandma fell three years ago and the medical complications that ensued left her with little strength. She had to learn how to use her good side to get up and out of bed. For me, I have to avoid agitating the piriformis and, as such, get out from certain positions in a similar manner. To get out of bed, I use my heels to push myself to a side-lying position. I use my upper body to push to sitting. The legs, then, swing over the edge and I scoot bottom till it's nearly falling off before putting my feet on the floor.
3. The first steps are always the worst. I think that I have some problems with stiffness because my gait is altered. So, even if the step doesn't hurt, my body doesn't know how to move. If I can get a few steps in, usually I can build some momentum to get where I need to go. I have seen, on occasion, too, where some prolonged movement can work out the kinks ... or I become more used to the pain.
4. I sometimes do things that I probably shouldn't because I forget that I'm hurting, like going to the basement to do laundry and then trying to take stuff upstairs to the second floor. My grandma, on the other hand, likes to move around without her walker because she left it in the other room. And because she's sassy and stubborn. I guess I get it from her.
5. Breathe in the good, breathe out the bad. My grandma is no yogi as I'd call her more religious than spiritual but her No. 1 tip during stressful times has been to breathe in the good and breathe out the bad. When the butt is screaming, I focus on inhaling and exhaling and visualize the pain leaving my body.
6. Change what I can – my attitude. My grandma often quotes the serenity prayer, and I'm fairly certain it's her way of getting through her struggles. I was a bit ridiculous in my reaction to the idea of not running but I've warmed to it a bit in the passing days. Don't get me wrong. I want to run. However, the down time will allow me to shift my focus from feeling like I'm not running enough or running too slow to being glad to just run. As I approach these last eight weeks of pregnancy, I think it will be an important mindset to adopt.
Also, it's been friggin' cold and dumb outside. If I had to pick a good time to be sidelined, I sure did. As I pedaled on the recumbent bike on Saturday, my friends ran in –8 windchill, faced 43 mph gusts and experienced white out conditions.The bike stunk, being inside didn't.
Grandma agrees. On the weather being dumb, that is.
I have ditched the crutches that I so required Thursday and Friday. I no longer wake up in pain and can walk a few stiff steps before I start to feel the pain. I can take steps without crying though the further in the day it is, the more I wince. For the most part, the pain is now local to just the right cheek and no longer radiates to the lower back, hamstrings and into the calf. The credit goes to rest, as much as I can get; PT-prescribed exercises and stretches; and some posture modifications.
But the experience is still frustrating. Most everything I do involves some level of pain or discomfort and a lot of things require planning and thought. Things as simple as getting in and out of the car.
I am channeling my inner Grandma, though, and trying to see the positive ... or at least not feel sorry for myself. I think I'm doing it so much that I might, well, be turning into her.
Happier times (read August) when my only complaint was that it wasn't 80 degrees on the lake. I could also see my toes.
1. I say things like, "As long as I can hold onto the cart, I'll be fine." I did this at Target and Menards over the weekend. My grandma uses the cart instead of a walker, and I used the cart to help take some of the weight off my leg.
2. I had to have a therapy session to learn how to get in and out of bed. I also had to get tips on getting in and out of a car. My grandma fell three years ago and the medical complications that ensued left her with little strength. She had to learn how to use her good side to get up and out of bed. For me, I have to avoid agitating the piriformis and, as such, get out from certain positions in a similar manner. To get out of bed, I use my heels to push myself to a side-lying position. I use my upper body to push to sitting. The legs, then, swing over the edge and I scoot bottom till it's nearly falling off before putting my feet on the floor.
3. The first steps are always the worst. I think that I have some problems with stiffness because my gait is altered. So, even if the step doesn't hurt, my body doesn't know how to move. If I can get a few steps in, usually I can build some momentum to get where I need to go. I have seen, on occasion, too, where some prolonged movement can work out the kinks ... or I become more used to the pain.
4. I sometimes do things that I probably shouldn't because I forget that I'm hurting, like going to the basement to do laundry and then trying to take stuff upstairs to the second floor. My grandma, on the other hand, likes to move around without her walker because she left it in the other room. And because she's sassy and stubborn. I guess I get it from her.
5. Breathe in the good, breathe out the bad. My grandma is no yogi as I'd call her more religious than spiritual but her No. 1 tip during stressful times has been to breathe in the good and breathe out the bad. When the butt is screaming, I focus on inhaling and exhaling and visualize the pain leaving my body.
6. Change what I can – my attitude. My grandma often quotes the serenity prayer, and I'm fairly certain it's her way of getting through her struggles. I was a bit ridiculous in my reaction to the idea of not running but I've warmed to it a bit in the passing days. Don't get me wrong. I want to run. However, the down time will allow me to shift my focus from feeling like I'm not running enough or running too slow to being glad to just run. As I approach these last eight weeks of pregnancy, I think it will be an important mindset to adopt.
Also, it's been friggin' cold and dumb outside. If I had to pick a good time to be sidelined, I sure did. As I pedaled on the recumbent bike on Saturday, my friends ran in –8 windchill, faced 43 mph gusts and experienced white out conditions.The bike stunk, being inside didn't.
Grandma agrees. On the weather being dumb, that is.
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Down But Not Out
Limping out of the office, two things were abundantly clear:
• I forgot to put on deodorant that morning. Apparently basic hygiene becomes complicated when I'm not living out of a gym bag.
• I am suffering from classic piriformis syndrome.
Neither "revelation" was particularly great (though one could be solved more easily) but I did feel more hope than I had in the past 48 hours, after my right glute seized on Wednesday's run. Those hours had been filled with pain-filled steps, tears from said steps, frustration, tears of frustration, 3.421 episodes of "Property Brothers" and frantic Internet searches that alternated between piriformis syndrome and sciatica.
Dr. Google diagnosed me with sciatica by Thursday night. It might have been the shooting pain when I went up steps or the fact that an amazing massage by JC on Thursday helped for all of 3 minutes, when my glute seized again on the walk out to the car.
Silly old me was sure that the session with JC, who looked a bit like Michael Clarke Duncan, would be the miracle I needed. I was sure his stature meant he had the strength to get into the problem and his initials ... hello, JC – just like another miracle worker. He wooed me with tales from studying in China and a grandson named Miles. Fate? I think so. The massage was great but it just wasn't the answer. (If you are local and need a recommendation, let me know.)
The sudden onset, too, had me leaning toward sciatica. I had not experienced any pains in the butt save from hip bone soreness, equal on both sides, prior to the run. Le behb could have easily moved, got on my nerve and caused the problem.
Friday morning, I called the office of my doctor/midwife. I was hoping they would have some good drugs but instead they referred me to a therapy practice in Fort Wayne that focuses on women. The therapists specialize in pelvic floor problems and other issues that arise during and after pregnancy. I was dubious at best, as my previous physical therapy experience didn't have me sold. You spend a whole lot of money to have someone watch you stretch. You are told to do those stretches at home and then go back the next session to have them watch you again.
Note: I know it's more than that. I have not lost it ... not completely.
But I was desperate and needed answers, so I went.
The appointment was fairly standard – including the half-hour wait. The therapist, who was being shadowed by a student, guided me through a series of assessments, which included engaging the transverse abdominis, bending forward, bending backward, lifting knees and reaching side to side. We reviewed my symptoms, where the pain was located and at what level during each test. Afterward, the therapist asked the student what she thought.
"It's just like the pregnant woman we saw before," she said.
"Classic piriformis syndrome," the therapist replied.
So, I'm not the only one, eh?
Given the explanation, I'm not 100 percent surprised. I had been having discomfort in the groin area that I attributed to the relaxin in the area of the pubic bone. The pressure there probably caused the piriformis to contract.
The therapist was confident that within 4 to 6 sessions with her, along with twice daily exercises and stretches, that I will be pain free. I cross referenced her prognosis with running friends who had similar problems and they confirmed the short recovery time. I'm hesitant to be all rah-rah, let me be healed, but I have to trust in the process.
And, I already feel a smidge better with the stretches and short treatment she gave me. It's nothing to write home about (although enough to share with the Internet) but it's noticeable. I limp when I start walking but can eventually transition to a waddle. It even feels manageable after a few laps around the house.
Surprisingly, my greatest concern is not running. I know that I won't be running this weekend and maybe not even next week – and that's OK. But I am trying to figure out how I can still teach my classes at the Y. I am cleared to exercise as long as it doesn't hurt/cause additional pain. I can squat without pain and do upperbody work but added resistance like, say, a barbell could be problematic. If I have to cancel class, though, I will.
We have to put our best butt back after all.
• I forgot to put on deodorant that morning. Apparently basic hygiene becomes complicated when I'm not living out of a gym bag.
• I am suffering from classic piriformis syndrome.
Neither "revelation" was particularly great (though one could be solved more easily) but I did feel more hope than I had in the past 48 hours, after my right glute seized on Wednesday's run. Those hours had been filled with pain-filled steps, tears from said steps, frustration, tears of frustration, 3.421 episodes of "Property Brothers" and frantic Internet searches that alternated between piriformis syndrome and sciatica.
Dr. Google diagnosed me with sciatica by Thursday night. It might have been the shooting pain when I went up steps or the fact that an amazing massage by JC on Thursday helped for all of 3 minutes, when my glute seized again on the walk out to the car.
Silly old me was sure that the session with JC, who looked a bit like Michael Clarke Duncan, would be the miracle I needed. I was sure his stature meant he had the strength to get into the problem and his initials ... hello, JC – just like another miracle worker. He wooed me with tales from studying in China and a grandson named Miles. Fate? I think so. The massage was great but it just wasn't the answer. (If you are local and need a recommendation, let me know.)
The sudden onset, too, had me leaning toward sciatica. I had not experienced any pains in the butt save from hip bone soreness, equal on both sides, prior to the run. Le behb could have easily moved, got on my nerve and caused the problem.
Friday morning, I called the office of my doctor/midwife. I was hoping they would have some good drugs but instead they referred me to a therapy practice in Fort Wayne that focuses on women. The therapists specialize in pelvic floor problems and other issues that arise during and after pregnancy. I was dubious at best, as my previous physical therapy experience didn't have me sold. You spend a whole lot of money to have someone watch you stretch. You are told to do those stretches at home and then go back the next session to have them watch you again.
Note: I know it's more than that. I have not lost it ... not completely.
But I was desperate and needed answers, so I went.
The appointment was fairly standard – including the half-hour wait. The therapist, who was being shadowed by a student, guided me through a series of assessments, which included engaging the transverse abdominis, bending forward, bending backward, lifting knees and reaching side to side. We reviewed my symptoms, where the pain was located and at what level during each test. Afterward, the therapist asked the student what she thought.
"It's just like the pregnant woman we saw before," she said.
"Classic piriformis syndrome," the therapist replied.
So, I'm not the only one, eh?
The piriformis is a small muscle that lies under the gluteal muscles in the buttocks region. When this muscle goes into spasm or becomes hypertonic, it may compress the sciatic nerve, causing low back pain or numbness that radiates down the leg, and is generally felt only on one side. This condition is known as piriformis syndrome. Other symptoms may include a deep pain in the hip or buttock, tight and painful hamstrings and calves, and tense pain and decreased range of motion in the hip. ...
During pregnancy, the pelvic floor will shift gradually to accommodate the baby as it develops in the womb. While in the early stages of pregnancy, the body releases a chemical called relaxin, which relaxes the pubic symphisis (pubic bone), surrounding ligaments, and joints in the pelvis. The release of the relaxin allows the entire area to widen, allowing an increase of space for the baby. This can increase stress and strain on the sacrum (tail bone), where the piriformis attaches, causing the muscle to tighten over time until it is in a constant state of contraction.Oh so many lessons from my personal training exam just come flooding back ...
Piriformis syndrome can also develop during pregnancy due to postural deviations caused by the weight bearing changes affecting the woman’s body. Often, because of the added weight of the baby, the mother will develop an anterior pelvic tilt. This occurs when the pelvis begins to shift forward with the weight of the baby in a way to compensate for balance. As the pelvis tilts forward, it causes the piriformis to tighten around the sciatic nerve. {Source}
Given the explanation, I'm not 100 percent surprised. I had been having discomfort in the groin area that I attributed to the relaxin in the area of the pubic bone. The pressure there probably caused the piriformis to contract.
The therapist was confident that within 4 to 6 sessions with her, along with twice daily exercises and stretches, that I will be pain free. I cross referenced her prognosis with running friends who had similar problems and they confirmed the short recovery time. I'm hesitant to be all rah-rah, let me be healed, but I have to trust in the process.
And, I already feel a smidge better with the stretches and short treatment she gave me. It's nothing to write home about (although enough to share with the Internet) but it's noticeable. I limp when I start walking but can eventually transition to a waddle. It even feels manageable after a few laps around the house.
Surprisingly, my greatest concern is not running. I know that I won't be running this weekend and maybe not even next week – and that's OK. But I am trying to figure out how I can still teach my classes at the Y. I am cleared to exercise as long as it doesn't hurt/cause additional pain. I can squat without pain and do upperbody work but added resistance like, say, a barbell could be problematic. If I have to cancel class, though, I will.
We have to put our best butt back after all.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
From Good to Bad in 3.9 Miles {A Three Things Thursday Post}
Wednesday started out like any other Wednesday.
I got the boys fed and Miles ready for daycare. I reviewed my music for barbell class and found the only pair of capris that were both clean and belly compatible. I took out Denali ... and took him out again. I got Miles fed ... again. And, at 8:20, we set off for daycare.
But the day was going to be better than just an ordinary Wednesday. I knew it. After all, I had taken off the day just because. It was a me day.
1. Barbell class was great. I felt strong and on it, and there were a couple new faces. The demographics of my Y can make it challenging at times as English isn't always a first language but the new gals did great. They just brought a new life to the class, and I left feeling sweaty and rejuvenated.
2. After a quick trip home to shower and watch an episode of "Property Brothers," I was off to lunch with my running friends. It was Shannon's birthday so we decided to do something incredibly novel and see each other in real clothes. I have to say that I have some really good looking friends.
The bonus: The restaurant we went to is known for its epic grilled cheese sandwiches, and I didn't go wrong with the pesto version that features cheddar, swiss, provolone and muenster cheeses, tomatoes, artichoke hearts and pesto sauce on grilled sourdough. I paired it with the house salad (veggies!) as the restaurant has the best peppercorn dressing.
3. What better way to enjoy a day off than to go for a solo run? The weather was somewhat tempting at 37 degrees though it was dreary and there was a light rain. I knew I would brighten it up with my Pro Compression heart socks and a Fila Hoodie from Kohl's that I found at a post-lunch shopping trip. I had been eyeing it for months, and I found it on clearance for 70 percent off plus I had a 20 percent off coupon.
Things went from good to meh to bad once I hit the trail and no matter how cute the clothes, the run could not be saved.
I've been used to some aches and pains running – round ligament pain, the widening of the hips, low back – but I experienced something new. I felt a pain in my ass. Literally. It started out as a dull ache, one I thought that I would run through and work out. I stopped to stretch half way, and I felt like the run was never the same. It was as if the entire glute just seized up. I tried more stretches and it didn't work. I had to get home so I just gutted it out.
Once I got home, I stretched, foam rolled and used a softball to do myofascial release. I was sure that was all I needed to take care of the pain in my butt.
But I was wrong. It seemed to make it all worse. My right side was tight and now immobile. I was barely able to walk across the room, and it was not without wincing. It got progressively worse as the night went on and even going to the bathroom was a struggle.
The worst part was that I knew trips up and down the steps to help with bedtime was not going to happen. I had to have Mark bring Miles downstairs so I could read to him on the couch. And when Miles got fiesty, I couldn't comfort him.
Or myself.
When I woke up this morning, I couldn't help but cry. Big fat tantrum tears as Mark handed me a cup of coffee. My right side was still tight, and moving was a challenge. I had Mark bring up crutches from the basement and I lumbered around.
At this point, I can barely walk – much less run. I just said Wednesday morning that running isn't important for me physically, though it is. I need it mentally. I need it to feel good about myself, to feel strong, to feel like me, to stay sane. I don't know what I'll do if I'll have to stop, especially now. If I have to take off weeks to rest (and I will if needed), I know I am done running for this pregnancy. I won't be able to just restart at 35 weeks.
I'm trying to be hopeful. I am. Baby boy could be sitting on my sciatic nerve and maybe a good roll will take off the pressure. I could have some luck with a more gentle approach to stretching and foam rolling, along with heat and ice.
If anyone has experience with piriformis pain, please send me your tips. And I'll take any good thought I can get, too!
I got the boys fed and Miles ready for daycare. I reviewed my music for barbell class and found the only pair of capris that were both clean and belly compatible. I took out Denali ... and took him out again. I got Miles fed ... again. And, at 8:20, we set off for daycare.
But the day was going to be better than just an ordinary Wednesday. I knew it. After all, I had taken off the day just because. It was a me day.
1. Barbell class was great. I felt strong and on it, and there were a couple new faces. The demographics of my Y can make it challenging at times as English isn't always a first language but the new gals did great. They just brought a new life to the class, and I left feeling sweaty and rejuvenated.
2. After a quick trip home to shower and watch an episode of "Property Brothers," I was off to lunch with my running friends. It was Shannon's birthday so we decided to do something incredibly novel and see each other in real clothes. I have to say that I have some really good looking friends.
The bonus: The restaurant we went to is known for its epic grilled cheese sandwiches, and I didn't go wrong with the pesto version that features cheddar, swiss, provolone and muenster cheeses, tomatoes, artichoke hearts and pesto sauce on grilled sourdough. I paired it with the house salad (veggies!) as the restaurant has the best peppercorn dressing.
3. What better way to enjoy a day off than to go for a solo run? The weather was somewhat tempting at 37 degrees though it was dreary and there was a light rain. I knew I would brighten it up with my Pro Compression heart socks and a Fila Hoodie from Kohl's that I found at a post-lunch shopping trip. I had been eyeing it for months, and I found it on clearance for 70 percent off plus I had a 20 percent off coupon.
Things went from good to meh to bad once I hit the trail and no matter how cute the clothes, the run could not be saved.
I've been used to some aches and pains running – round ligament pain, the widening of the hips, low back – but I experienced something new. I felt a pain in my ass. Literally. It started out as a dull ache, one I thought that I would run through and work out. I stopped to stretch half way, and I felt like the run was never the same. It was as if the entire glute just seized up. I tried more stretches and it didn't work. I had to get home so I just gutted it out.
Once I got home, I stretched, foam rolled and used a softball to do myofascial release. I was sure that was all I needed to take care of the pain in my butt.
But I was wrong. It seemed to make it all worse. My right side was tight and now immobile. I was barely able to walk across the room, and it was not without wincing. It got progressively worse as the night went on and even going to the bathroom was a struggle.
Or myself.
When I woke up this morning, I couldn't help but cry. Big fat tantrum tears as Mark handed me a cup of coffee. My right side was still tight, and moving was a challenge. I had Mark bring up crutches from the basement and I lumbered around.
At this point, I can barely walk – much less run. I just said Wednesday morning that running isn't important for me physically, though it is. I need it mentally. I need it to feel good about myself, to feel strong, to feel like me, to stay sane. I don't know what I'll do if I'll have to stop, especially now. If I have to take off weeks to rest (and I will if needed), I know I am done running for this pregnancy. I won't be able to just restart at 35 weeks.
I'm trying to be hopeful. I am. Baby boy could be sitting on my sciatic nerve and maybe a good roll will take off the pressure. I could have some luck with a more gentle approach to stretching and foam rolling, along with heat and ice.
If anyone has experience with piriformis pain, please send me your tips. And I'll take any good thought I can get, too!
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Three Things Thursday: Doing it all wrong
My calves. Oh my goodness, my calves. They are tight, sore. Maybe even painful. Though I have seen some relief thanks to ProCrompession socks and my Tiger Tail, I'm still walking like I ran a marathon ... except the marathon is 23 days away and my next 20-miler is is tomorrow.
I could be left to scratch my head but there was a change this week, and that change was in the form of a guest physical therapist.
Before releasing me with a big packet of exercises and Indiana Physical Therapy T-shirt, my PT wanted me to meet with the practice's running expert. The PT, who is an accomplished ultra marathoner, would evaluate my gait, form and general running self to see whether those things could have contributed to my original injury.
And though that's not the way he put it, not exactly, I am doing some things wrong.
Problem No. 1: Overstriding. If running properly, a person's foot lands underneath her hip. My leg, on the other hand, extends far in front of my body before coming back in and landing in front of the hip. With each stride, I'm basically wasting energy to extend my leg and then braking momentarily as the foot lands to get better alignment. It causes undue stress on the hip extenders (hamstrings and glutes) rather than using the quadriceps.
Solution No. 1: Bounding. This exercise/drill is tough, and I felt like a complete tool trying to nail it in the clinic as others rehabbed shoulders and hips post-replacement surgery. The goal is to reteach the brain form by exaggerating the knee drive and accentuating proper foot placement.
Problem No. 2: Hip stability. As you run, your hips should stay stable and even. In my case, my right hip drops as I land on the right foot, indicating a weakness in the gluteus medius to keep it stable. The weakness on the right side affects the left and boom! Left hip problems.
Solution No. 2: Hip drops and other things. I have been working to improve the strength and connections of neuromuscular pathways of my glutes. My exercises have included clam shells, monster walks and pistol squats but some more specific exercises have been added - hip drops on a step, squat jumps, one-leg squat jumps and one-leg lateral squat jumps. The plyometric exercises will not only strengthen those muscles but help improve the power in my stride.
I was lucky enough to get to do all of these under his supervision and let's just say when he corrected my form, I felt the need to apologize for the state of my T-shirt.
Problem No. 3: Torso rotation. We all know core strength is important to running but do we know why? For me, a stronger core will help stabilize the torso and prevent undo rotation as I run. I exhibit the rotation clearly, even to the untrained eye, in my arm swing. I bring the arms in front of the torso using a slight internal rotation of the shoulder rather than keeping the arms by my side and using them to drive the body forward.
Solution No. 3: Focus. This problem is the only one the PT said I could actively work to fix mid-run without making things worse. He advised bringing the arms out to the side and using them to move like the wheels of a train.
Because I am a train. Obviously.
Note: These exercises were prescribed for me by a licensed physical therapist, and I am sharing them for informational purposes only.
I could be left to scratch my head but there was a change this week, and that change was in the form of a guest physical therapist.
Before releasing me with a big packet of exercises and Indiana Physical Therapy T-shirt, my PT wanted me to meet with the practice's running expert. The PT, who is an accomplished ultra marathoner, would evaluate my gait, form and general running self to see whether those things could have contributed to my original injury.
And though that's not the way he put it, not exactly, I am doing some things wrong.
Problem No. 1: Overstriding. If running properly, a person's foot lands underneath her hip. My leg, on the other hand, extends far in front of my body before coming back in and landing in front of the hip. With each stride, I'm basically wasting energy to extend my leg and then braking momentarily as the foot lands to get better alignment. It causes undue stress on the hip extenders (hamstrings and glutes) rather than using the quadriceps.
Solution No. 1: Bounding. This exercise/drill is tough, and I felt like a complete tool trying to nail it in the clinic as others rehabbed shoulders and hips post-replacement surgery. The goal is to reteach the brain form by exaggerating the knee drive and accentuating proper foot placement.
Problem No. 2: Hip stability. As you run, your hips should stay stable and even. In my case, my right hip drops as I land on the right foot, indicating a weakness in the gluteus medius to keep it stable. The weakness on the right side affects the left and boom! Left hip problems.
Solution No. 2: Hip drops and other things. I have been working to improve the strength and connections of neuromuscular pathways of my glutes. My exercises have included clam shells, monster walks and pistol squats but some more specific exercises have been added - hip drops on a step, squat jumps, one-leg squat jumps and one-leg lateral squat jumps. The plyometric exercises will not only strengthen those muscles but help improve the power in my stride.
I was lucky enough to get to do all of these under his supervision and let's just say when he corrected my form, I felt the need to apologize for the state of my T-shirt.
Problem No. 3: Torso rotation. We all know core strength is important to running but do we know why? For me, a stronger core will help stabilize the torso and prevent undo rotation as I run. I exhibit the rotation clearly, even to the untrained eye, in my arm swing. I bring the arms in front of the torso using a slight internal rotation of the shoulder rather than keeping the arms by my side and using them to drive the body forward.
Solution No. 3: Focus. This problem is the only one the PT said I could actively work to fix mid-run without making things worse. He advised bringing the arms out to the side and using them to move like the wheels of a train.
Because I am a train. Obviously.
Note: These exercises were prescribed for me by a licensed physical therapist, and I am sharing them for informational purposes only.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Five for Friday: Injury edition
1. This morning, with 11 miles under my belt for the week, I headed to the YMCA for a bit of cross training. I'm trying to safely yet aggressively regain the fitness I lost when I was taking it easy and then taking it easier. And so rather than taking 2 (or more) rest days this week, I took off Monday and just kept it light today - 30 minutes on the indoor bike and my PT exercises.
I kept the resistance fairly low, 3-5 on an unknown scale, and covered up the display. Mostly because I was studying for my ACE CPT exam, which is in three weeks, but also because I didn't want to worry about RPMs, speed or distance.
2. Speaking of my ACE exam, while I'm getting to the terrified "I'm probably going to fail" mindset, I've been grateful for this injury. Hear me out. The medical process from pain onset to diagnosis to treatment has reinforced the anatomy, prime movers and functions of the lower extremity. I've also done some of the movement screens - specifically, the Thomas, stork and blood pressure cuff tests - which have brought the book to life. I nearly giggled with excitement when my PT (yes, she's mine) said she was going to get the cuff for yesterday's session. She's also been really great about overexplaining things - her words, not mine - so every session is part therapy, part studying.
3. Of course, the therapy part isn't as fun. The PT is taking a multifaceted approach to improving the strain in my hip flexors. She discovered during my first visit that my injury was not new but rather something old that had been aggravated as evidenced by a significant amount of scar tissue in the hip and IT band regions. To break it up, she is doing a process called scraping to break up the capillary system within the tissue and promote re-healing. We're also working to improve the strength of my gluteus maximus and medius, as well as reprogram the neuromuscular pathways in my legs. She says that runners often have problems with the glutes not firing, causing the hamstrings to overcompensate. The hamstrings aren't designed to create the force required for running, which can cause overuse and injury.
4. I have several exercises to do to improve the strength and activation in the glutes that I do in therapy and once a day in between sessions - clamshell with resistance band, glute bridges with a ball and prone glute raises with a bent leg. The key is to activate - or concentrically contract them - before initiating the movement. It sounds easy but it's a real struggle, which means my glutes aren't as strong as I thought. I don't notice it as much with the clamshell and bridges but those damn leg raises are terrible.
5. All of this work - the stretching, exercises, therapy, slow build in fitness - have led to improved pain in running. Where as last week I was becoming aware of the hip by mile 1.5 and ready to stop at 3 or 4, I've been able to run 3 or 3.5 without noticing the area and am finishing with less discomfort and less limping post-run .The PT says I was lucky to respond as quickly as I did - or as quickly as you can with a mound of scar tissue - as it's probably why I'm seeing such results.
Results I am definitely not taking for granted.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Three Things Thursday: Form fitting
1. A funny thing happened on the way to Bodypump. Actually, the "it" really happened during Bodypump. Shit. No. It happened after Bodypump.
Wait. Let's get this right. I noticed something funny after Bodypump because of something I did in Bodypump as a result of something that happened before Bodypump.
Got it? Good.
In an effort to alleviate any unnecessary pressure on my hip flexors, I have dropped my weight dramatically during Bodypump for any track that involves the hip flexors - squats, back and lunges. My usual squat weight ranges from 17 kg to 20 kg and, Tuesday, it was 9 kg. Nine friggin' kilos - not even 20 pounds.
The interesting thing, though, is that as I've dropped weight, I've found that I am more sore. Seriously. If you had asked me to sit on a toilet yesterday, it would have involved some dropping it like it's hot. Anyway, my hypothesis is that by reducing my weight, I am achieving a greater range of motion and focusing more on my form and thus improving the quality of the action. It just goes to show that you don't need to lift heavy for good results.
2. Speaking of my sore ass - not my pso-as - I'm wondering if it contributed to the tightness in my lower extremities, a fact the orthopedic doctor emphasized several times during my visit today.
I had made the appointment Monday after (irrationally) convincing myself that I had a stress fracture but nearly canceled it a half-dozen times after a relatively successful run yesterday and a continued improvement in pain. However, I figured it was better to be safe than sorry and showed up at 9 a.m.
There were some screens to test range of motion relative to pain, X-rays and more movement screens (Stork test, hello!). I would be lying if I said that my anxiety did not grow as the exam grew longer. I feared that maybe the crazy was right, and I was going to be sidelined this fall. But not so. I just have a strained/sprained hip flexor (as previously thought) and an irrationally tight sacroiliac joint. Actually, my entire hip complex is tight - so much so that my hips are not aligned and the doctor prescribed physical therapy.
The good news is that I can run, run now and run long. The doctor, who is a runner herself and member of one of the local groups, said I might need to reconfigure my training (skipping a cut back week) but sees no reason why I can't do Veterans in November.
3. I just ate a fun-size package of peanut butter M&Ms. They did not make my tummy feel good. That is all.
Note: I realize No. 3 has nothing to do with anything but what do you want from me? I've spent the better part of the week obsessing over phantom and not-so-phantom pains in my psoas. Because I am a crazy, self-centered fool.
Favor of the week: Give me something else to think about. What's your current obsession?
Wait. Let's get this right. I noticed something funny after Bodypump because of something I did in Bodypump as a result of something that happened before Bodypump.
Got it? Good.
In an effort to alleviate any unnecessary pressure on my hip flexors, I have dropped my weight dramatically during Bodypump for any track that involves the hip flexors - squats, back and lunges. My usual squat weight ranges from 17 kg to 20 kg and, Tuesday, it was 9 kg. Nine friggin' kilos - not even 20 pounds.
The interesting thing, though, is that as I've dropped weight, I've found that I am more sore. Seriously. If you had asked me to sit on a toilet yesterday, it would have involved some dropping it like it's hot. Anyway, my hypothesis is that by reducing my weight, I am achieving a greater range of motion and focusing more on my form and thus improving the quality of the action. It just goes to show that you don't need to lift heavy for good results.
2. Speaking of my sore ass - not my pso-as - I'm wondering if it contributed to the tightness in my lower extremities, a fact the orthopedic doctor emphasized several times during my visit today.
I had made the appointment Monday after (irrationally) convincing myself that I had a stress fracture but nearly canceled it a half-dozen times after a relatively successful run yesterday and a continued improvement in pain. However, I figured it was better to be safe than sorry and showed up at 9 a.m.
There were some screens to test range of motion relative to pain, X-rays and more movement screens (Stork test, hello!). I would be lying if I said that my anxiety did not grow as the exam grew longer. I feared that maybe the crazy was right, and I was going to be sidelined this fall. But not so. I just have a strained/sprained hip flexor (as previously thought) and an irrationally tight sacroiliac joint. Actually, my entire hip complex is tight - so much so that my hips are not aligned and the doctor prescribed physical therapy.
The good news is that I can run, run now and run long. The doctor, who is a runner herself and member of one of the local groups, said I might need to reconfigure my training (skipping a cut back week) but sees no reason why I can't do Veterans in November.
3. I just ate a fun-size package of peanut butter M&Ms. They did not make my tummy feel good. That is all.
Note: I realize No. 3 has nothing to do with anything but what do you want from me? I've spent the better part of the week obsessing over phantom and not-so-phantom pains in my psoas. Because I am a crazy, self-centered fool.
Favor of the week: Give me something else to think about. What's your current obsession?
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Three Things Thursday: Pre-race edition
Pre-workout breakfast: Slice of whole-wheat toast with honey pre-yoga and a slice of crustless quiche and a grilled sandwich thin
Workout: 30 minutes light yoga and 2.25 miles "wogging" with Denali
1. "I get knocked down/ But I get up again/ You're never going to keep me down." Oh, Chumbawamba. I know your song is about getting wasted or whatever but I reserve the right to use your lyrics as I please. And today, I'm using them as a bit of a mantra. I might have fallen yesterday but I got up this morning feeling good. Alittle massive fall wasn't going to shatter my hopes. I went out, on the advice of a co-worker and fellow runner, for a bit of leg loosening. I would walk a nice warm-up and then jog at a very moderate pace. The goal was to prevent/alleviate any stiffness from my injuries. I had some pain in my knee from the scrape itself but everything seemed to work OK. I'll do some extra stretching tonight but I think I should be good.
2. I am currently in full-on pre-race mode. First step: Hydrate. Proper hydration begins days before a race - not that morning. I've been downing the water at work and will be adding low-cal Gatorade to the mix tonight and tomorrow. According to Runner's World, "Two to three days before your race, alternate drinking water with a sports drink. Since you are concerned about having too much fluid on board race morning, it is even more important that you hydrate very well prior to race day. "
3. The next part is the fun part ... sort of. Carb-loading. I like to make sure that at least two days out from a race that I start adding in more carbs. Hence the sandwich thin - not fruit - with my quiche and my planned "dessert" for this evening: Pumpkin oats. (No worries about my fruit consumption. I had a banana in my smoothie and there's an apple waiting as an afternoon snack.) According to Fitness Magazine, "Carbs will give your muscles and brain the fuel they need to get through the race. Most women tend to load up on familiar sources like pasta and rice, but (Lisa C.) Cohn suggests considering complex carb sources like tabouleh, oatmeal, and other whole grains."
Workout: 30 minutes light yoga and 2.25 miles "wogging" with Denali
1. "I get knocked down/ But I get up again/ You're never going to keep me down." Oh, Chumbawamba. I know your song is about getting wasted or whatever but I reserve the right to use your lyrics as I please. And today, I'm using them as a bit of a mantra. I might have fallen yesterday but I got up this morning feeling good. A
2. I am currently in full-on pre-race mode. First step: Hydrate. Proper hydration begins days before a race - not that morning. I've been downing the water at work and will be adding low-cal Gatorade to the mix tonight and tomorrow. According to Runner's World, "Two to three days before your race, alternate drinking water with a sports drink. Since you are concerned about having too much fluid on board race morning, it is even more important that you hydrate very well prior to race day. "
3. The next part is the fun part ... sort of. Carb-loading. I like to make sure that at least two days out from a race that I start adding in more carbs. Hence the sandwich thin - not fruit - with my quiche and my planned "dessert" for this evening: Pumpkin oats. (No worries about my fruit consumption. I had a banana in my smoothie and there's an apple waiting as an afternoon snack.) According to Fitness Magazine, "Carbs will give your muscles and brain the fuel they need to get through the race. Most women tend to load up on familiar sources like pasta and rice, but (Lisa C.) Cohn suggests considering complex carb sources like tabouleh, oatmeal, and other whole grains."
And down goes Kimberly
Stats for Wednesday ...
Pre-workout fuel: Slice of whole-wheat toast with apple butter
Workout: Ran 4.43 miles in 38 minutes, 22 seconds; average pace, 8:40.
It was my last run of Fort-4-Fitness training. Just a mild-mannered tempo run of 5 miles with 3 miles at an 8:54 pace. It should have been "nothing" given last week's tempo run of 8 miles with 6 below 9:00.
But it wasn't. OK ... it was. At first. I ran a comfortable 0.9 mile or so and set off on the path around campus. My legs felt great and though it was a bit tough, I couldn't help but push myself. I saw paces beginning with a "7" a time or two when I looked down during that first mile. It rolled in at 8:10.
And then ... then I don't really know what happened. Denali got scared and bolted, pulling the water bottle out of my hand. The leash off my wrist. He ran 20 feet ahead. I fell to the ground. Hard.
It took me what seemed like forever to stop the Garmin, get myself standing and call Denali back to me. He trotted to me like nothing had happened.
How wrong he was.
I don't want to get gross but let's say my knee didn't look as pretty as that girl's. My hands felt scraped. I was covered in mud on my entire left side. I retrieved my handheld and tried to rinse as much stuff off my knee so I could go home, which was 2 miles away.
I started to hobble, pain and stiffness radiating from my knee. A few steps was all I could manage - I couldn't walk home that way. Not 2 miles. So, being me, I started to run. Slowly at first ... with tears pouring from eyes. It wasn't the pain that made me cry but the fear that everything I have worked toward for the past 8 weeks would end like this. Injured. Three days before the race.
After a quarter mile or so, I was able to compose myself. No more tears and my pace came back - sort of. And I did the best to "salvage" my tempo run though I admit that might not have been the smartest move. I do get a point for not running past my house and around the block just to hit 5 miles. Go me!
I surveyed the damage once I got home. I cleaned the knee as best I could and moved to my arm. As I wiped away the dirt, I winced. It hurt! And there seemed to be an odd bump, like half a walnut shell protruding from underneath my skin. So I did what any girl would do. I called my grandma, who is 15o miles away.
Grandma, in all her sleepiness, advised an X-ray and so I met my father-in-law at the ER. Lucky for me, he was there with his students for clinic AND he's an X-ray tech. We got some films done, a nurse cleaned my knee and the doctor told me stories of rollerblading with his dogs. (Scratch that one off the list of things to do.)
Thankfully, my arm isn't broken. Just my spirit - and that's just a little bit. I mentioned to the doctor that I was running Saturday and he wished me luck. Told me to take it easy before the race. I can do that.
Pre-workout fuel: Slice of whole-wheat toast with apple butter
Workout: Ran 4.43 miles in 38 minutes, 22 seconds; average pace, 8:40.
It was my last run of Fort-4-Fitness training. Just a mild-mannered tempo run of 5 miles with 3 miles at an 8:54 pace. It should have been "nothing" given last week's tempo run of 8 miles with 6 below 9:00.
But it wasn't. OK ... it was. At first. I ran a comfortable 0.9 mile or so and set off on the path around campus. My legs felt great and though it was a bit tough, I couldn't help but push myself. I saw paces beginning with a "7" a time or two when I looked down during that first mile. It rolled in at 8:10.
And then ... then I don't really know what happened. Denali got scared and bolted, pulling the water bottle out of my hand. The leash off my wrist. He ran 20 feet ahead. I fell to the ground. Hard.
It took me what seemed like forever to stop the Garmin, get myself standing and call Denali back to me. He trotted to me like nothing had happened.
How wrong he was.
I don't want to get gross but let's say my knee didn't look as pretty as that girl's. My hands felt scraped. I was covered in mud on my entire left side. I retrieved my handheld and tried to rinse as much stuff off my knee so I could go home, which was 2 miles away.
I started to hobble, pain and stiffness radiating from my knee. A few steps was all I could manage - I couldn't walk home that way. Not 2 miles. So, being me, I started to run. Slowly at first ... with tears pouring from eyes. It wasn't the pain that made me cry but the fear that everything I have worked toward for the past 8 weeks would end like this. Injured. Three days before the race.
After a quarter mile or so, I was able to compose myself. No more tears and my pace came back - sort of. And I did the best to "salvage" my tempo run though I admit that might not have been the smartest move. I do get a point for not running past my house and around the block just to hit 5 miles. Go me!
I surveyed the damage once I got home. I cleaned the knee as best I could and moved to my arm. As I wiped away the dirt, I winced. It hurt! And there seemed to be an odd bump, like half a walnut shell protruding from underneath my skin. So I did what any girl would do. I called my grandma, who is 15o miles away.
Grandma, in all her sleepiness, advised an X-ray and so I met my father-in-law at the ER. Lucky for me, he was there with his students for clinic AND he's an X-ray tech. We got some films done, a nurse cleaned my knee and the doctor told me stories of rollerblading with his dogs. (Scratch that one off the list of things to do.)
Thankfully, my arm isn't broken. Just my spirit - and that's just a little bit. I mentioned to the doctor that I was running Saturday and he wished me luck. Told me to take it easy before the race. I can do that.
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