Mixed Bag Of Rant

After 4+ months of pretty hard core training and a potentially running-career ending injury, I did it.

I finished a Half Marathon.

As of July 25, a week prior to the race, I ran 8 miles and felt pretty amazing. My pace was fantastic. I felt strong. Unstoppable.

After that day, I noticed that my hip was sore. Okay. Aches and pains. Kind of par for the course when you’re pushing the amount of mileage I had been doing over the last month. On Wednesday, I went out for what was to be a 3-4 mile relaxed run. Again, I felt good. The hip was a little sore, but nothing I couldn’t run through. I was running at a great pace until at mile 2, I felt a sharp pain soar through my hip, down my leg and through my back. It felt like someone knifed me and it stopped me in my tracks. After several failed attempts to try and run again, I limped the remaining 1.7 miles back home.

Much to my dismay, my husband’s response was, “Don’t start making excuses to not do the race on Saturday.” Are you fucking kidding me? Excuses? 4+ months of busting my ass, getting up before dawn to make an excuse at the last minute? I don’t think so. Upon seeing my face with that comment he quickly backpedaled as I entered into freak out mode. The next day, I called my PCP first thing in the morning to be seen by a doctor. They assumed Bursitis and referred me to the walk-in urgent care at Twin Cities Orthopedics. I was thinking, oh great, I am going to end up being here all day. To my surprise, I was seen almost immediately by their sports doctor, quickly got into an X-ray to ensure that I didn’t have a stress fracture and got a diagnosis of: Hip Tendonitis of the IT Band at Point of Insertion (blah blah blah… I have tendonitis in my hip from all my crazy running). My options were:

A) Skip the race and start rehab/cross-training. Take pain meds for any immediate pain relief.
B) Go for the hail mary and get a cortisone shot to the hip. Oh and by the way, the worst case scenario is that the tendon will rip and you will need surgery to re-attach it.

Not running this race was not an option for me. I worked too hard and for too long to give up – I got the shot.

As the next two days went on I started to worry. The hip was feeling better but not great and I knew it would be a game day decision.

Little did I know it would end up being a starting-line decision. There is one thing I do that I’m sure annoys faster runners, but I always start out in a faster pace group than I should. It motivates me to get out of the gate at a good clip – and the truth is, even if I fall apart faster, having a solid 10k is critical for me in finishing with a decent time.

I was sore at first, but quickly got into my groove. At about mile 5 the song “Fight Song” by Rachel Platten came on. This song is my MANTRA for this year’s running season. I actually got a little emotional when it came on my playlist. It was at this point that I knew I would go the distance. At around mile 9 I really started to fizzle. Beyond the pain, it was hot out and there was little relief from the sun along this course. I was sunburned. Dehydrated. I had to push away the voices telling me to quit. Towards the end, I was keeping pace with two ladies who were struggling. They were doing run/walk segments of about 30 seconds on 1 minute off. They invited me to join them and we trudged through the last 3 miles together.

I could see the finish line a quarter of a mile ahead and that is when I saw my best running friend standing there with my sweet little boy cheering me on. I finished my first ever Half Marathon with my best guy – he crossed the finish line with me and it was the best thing ever.

My running team greeted me when I got my medal and the first words out of my mouth were, “I never, ever want to do that again.” My finishing time was atrocious (as in, I was that close to coming in very last). However, that doesn’t matter. Embarrassed as I am to admit how poor my time was, I am proud to have even finished. It was a downright miracle. It would have been so easy to quit, but I didn’t.

Me & Nordy

My amazing running team – Sole Sisters Running Crew

A lot of my friends and colleagues asked me why I felt the need to do this. I think I needed to prove to myself that the possibility existed and that yes, everybody is capable of accomplishing amazing things when you put your mind to it.

The reality is, I am injured in a way that will likely haunt me for distance running going forward. While my hip is in need of therapy and rehab, my time and attention really needs to be on my daughter. My hip can wait.

I still have two major races left this year: the Women Rock Starlet Challenge and the TC 10 Mile. While I don’t want to let anyone down, I need to be realistic in what my body will allow me to do. If I don’t listen to it, I may never be able to run again.

I’m ridiculously proud of what I accomplished on Saturday and definitely have the battle scars to prove it. Not only did I run this for myself, but I raised money for an amazing cause (and if you haven’t donated, you still can!). Despite some of the agony- it was so worth it to do this for the kids. My pain is nothing compared to what they are going through.

With that, I leave you with, “Fight Song“
Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion

And all those things I didn’t say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Losing friends and I’m chasing sleep
Everybody’s worried about me
In too deep
Say I’m in too deep (in too deep)
And it’s been two years
I miss my home
But there’s a fire burning in my bones
Still believe
Yeah, I still believe

Today was one of THOSE days. Here is my story:

As I am getting ready for work this morning, around 6:20am I heard the rumble of thunder. I kicked it into high gear as I knew a larger crack of thunder would awaken my sweetly sleeping nearly 4 year old. I wasn’t fast enough. I was caught. Child did not want me to leave. Cue immense mom guilt.

In the torrential rain, I made my way to the bus transit station. Firstly, they need to work on the cracks in this structure. Even parked in a ramp, the leaky structure was spewing water everywhere. They also need to figure out a drainage system because my cutely skirted, high-heeled self was ankle deep in water crossing the road.

Drenched, I made it to the bus. I walked on, briefly turned to close my umbrella and completely and utterly biffed it. As in feet out from under me, not the least bit graceful, biffed it. Injured, both mentally and physically, I made my way to the far back of the bus where I could hide my head in embarrassed shame.

Still raining, I reach my destination. My adorable shoes squishing and my injured leg pounding, I made my way through the skyway to avoid any further rain mishaps. I get to my new dime-sized cube and realize, my skirt has twisted sideways, I had put my rings on the wrong fingers and my hair was a complete disaster. Did I mention they haven’t really figured out the temperature on my new floor? Not only am I drenched, but I am now freezing.

You would think I would have the smarts to stay put. But no. I venture out into the great big city for a Target run as my hair was in desperation for a band, I was out of gum and embarrassingly enough, needed to buy a product that puts the fear in any consumer. Thank god for Target downtown and their self-checkout lanes. Nobody had to witness my embarrassing purchase. That was until two young gals obviously up to no good set off the store alarm at the same moment I walked through. In that mortifying moment I had to produce my receipt and show my goods. On the walk of shame back to my office, I did what any food addict does and stopped for lunch at Erbert & Gerbert’s. I guess I could have made worse choices, but nonetheless, 700 calories later, I continue to pile on the shame.

So, here I sit, praying that I have no more horrific moments. Praying that the sun will stay out until I am safely back at home. Praying I remember the huge metal thing under my desk so I can stop whacking my knee on it every time I cross my legs. Praying nobody is watching me blog when I should be working. Praying the thunderstorm threat for this evening will fizzle and we’ll all get a good night’s sleep.

There is good on the horizon. I am 10 days from my dream family vacation to Disney! Despite some deeply seated fears that my child will throw a tantrum on the airplane and we’ll have to be removed, I am beyond excited. Not only is this my child’s first trip to Disney, but it is my husband’s as well. I seriously cannot wait to see the look on both of their faces when they see that castle for the first time. My husband has many more fears than I do about the trip that include my above-mentioned fear of an airplane temper tantrum but also hurricanes and theft. LOL. The threat of a hurricane in the next 15 days appears to be minimal, so I am not worried about weather in the least. Yes, it will be hot. Yes, we will get tired. I. Don’t. Care. I am going to do everything I can to stay positive and light-hearted about our first “real” family vacation.

Despite my overly embarrassing day, I am staying positive. I mean, how much worse can it get??