Self Limitations- When They're a Good Thing

Face has recently decided to limit her caffeine intake, which comes primarily through Coca Cola.  She loves the damn stuff, and recently confided in me that it's been harder to limit herself to 1 coke a day than it would be to limit her drinking.  I'm really proud of her, and while limiting myself to one coke, or soda of any kind, per day would be easy (I probably drink 1-2 a month on average), I balked at the thought of limiting myself to 1 drink a day.

Oh god, I BALKED at limiting my drinking to ONE. DRINK. PER. DAY.  That's scary.  To be fair, I balk at the idea of MOST limitations, but still... It's not like I drink every day, though if I'm going to be honest and lay the cards on the table, I do drink most days.  I don't always drink to intoxication, though, again, 2-3 times a week I will get to between lightly buzzed and drunk.  I've equated alcohol with rewards.  I've used alcohol to get to sleep at night and to shut my brain up.

I think what I'm saying here is, I like drinking.  I haven't considered it out of control because I always felt I was in control.  Until I balked at the idea of limitation.  Perhaps I'm not as in control as I thought?  And we know how I feel about not being in control.  (Bad, just in case you forgot.)

So I pledged to Face that, in fidelity with her trial with caffeine, I would limit myself to 1 drink per day.  Of course I won't be perfect at this, and of course there will be days that I will have no drinks.  Hell, Wednesday I'm going to a wine tasting- STRIKE ONE!  But the idea is to regain control and enable discipline over my choices.

Ultimately I'm more comfortable making this about working on my self-discipline that making this about drinking.  Similar to my pledges to save, train, and sew, I have declared I will Do Something, and will hopefully achieve it with some amount of success (as long as it's more than the sewing challenge we're in business).  In order to increase the likelihood of my success, I've devised a 6 week timeline to the challenge.  What happens in 6 weeks?  Who knows- have to get there first.

Benefits will include:

• Weight loss- 12 oz of decent beer has between 140-250 calories per 12 oz bottle.  I don't drink that light crap, so if I have 3 beers we're looking at the equivalent of a large meal.  Add an ACTUAL meal, or even more beers, and all of a sudden I'm consuming 150% of my daily caloric requirement.  No wonder I still get chub-rub when I run....
• Financial savings- Booze certainly hikes up the cost of a restaurant or grocery bill.  If I'm consuming less, then I'm spending less, and I have more money.  YAY!
• Increased health- yay for livers working blah-dee-blah-blah.  Probably won't fall down/run into things as much if I'm sober more often.  Of course I often fall down/run into things when I sober as a judge, so....
• Better decision making- probably won't choose to eat that pizza, drunk that dial, post that poorly spelled facebook message, pick that ill-advised fight, etc.  And if I DO make a bad decision, at least I can't squirm out from under the thumb of responsibility by blaming on the a-a-a-a-alcohol.
• Probably some other stuff.... hopefully some other stuff....  More booze for the rest of you?

Even listing all these benefits, I know this is going to be tough.  I hate admitting that because I don't think I'm a drunk, but I do think I need to take a step back.  I'm not advocating teetotaling, and honestly I'd never want to give it up 100%.  But I do need to declare my intentions to the public and be held accountable.

HOLD ME ACCOUNTABLE!!!

or just hold me- I'm good with that too.  :-)

Kickin' A$$, Takin' Names

Last night I pulled a Rocky- I pulled out my old cottons, my gloves, and ten bucks and hit Tokyo Joe's dojo for some good old ass kicking. 

 

I *hope* someday to have a high kick like HilSwank.  Maybe sans the scrunchy socks...

Years ago Face and I went religiously to this cardo kickboxing class twice a week.  We went back a few times with Smarty and/or Poet before Face's wedding a year and a half ago.  Poet's been back in town from NYC for almost a year now, and trying to stay active in a very car-oriented society.  She's regularly invites me to Hot Yoga class, which is right behind the building I work in.  She's looking to do her 30 mile round trip commute on a bike in the spring.  And she's encouraging Face and I to go to kickboxing. 

I'm so happy she did.  I noted the leather on my gloves was stiffer than I remember- a side-effect of neglecting them.  It took a bit of wear to loosen them up, and it took a bit of class to loosen me up as well.  We worked on heavy bags with combinations.  At first I took it slow, trying to get the form back into my body, place my feet correctly, but by the end of class I was wailing on that bag.  ::Jab, cross, hook, (feet shuffle) kick::  Drop and do pushups for 60 seconds.  ::cross, hook, uppercut, elbow, roundhouse::  Drop and 50 side-crunches each side.

By the end of the 50 minutes we were sweaty and feeling great.  While my body felt like it was slipping into a pair of old jeans, Poet is still just learning the moves and form.  She did a great job, worked hard, and seemed to feel amazing.  I'm glad to see the supportive attitude that kept Face and I returning class after class remains at the dojo.  The teacher came around to each group to ensure we were using proper form AND trying our hardest.  

Right now I plan to go to kickboxing every Thursday.  It's fantastic cross-training for my hip and ankle, and pretty much the only upper-body workout that I do.  Bonus: kicking and punching feels GOOOOOOD.

Shape Up Or....

While I wasn't paying attention, my life kinda fell apart.

I haven't been running.  Here and there a few miles, but maybe once a week.

I haven't been saving.  Well, I have money going to a savings account, but I'm also spending and using credit, so it amounts to the same thing.

I haven't been eating well.  I've been eating WELL- but not healthily.

On my day off this week I did some deep cleaning in my apartment.  I purged old and ill-fitting clothes (including going through the sock and underwear drawer), organized both closets, scrubbed the bathrooms, scoured and vacuumed the floors.  It was a good day- cleaning, organizing, and getting rid of junk I don't need made me very up-beat and happy.  It's obvious to me now that I felt my life lacking in structure, but wasn't sure how to articulate it.

Just one day later I was feeling so unsettled that I had an emotional breakdown in traffic.  Sure, no one likes traffic.  Usually I'm able to hold a certain amount of zen about it.  Yesterday, no zen, only Zuul.  I was so frustrated that once I was finally OUT of traffic I started crying.  That's not the sign of a well-balanced emotional state.

Last night I ran with My Runner and a group of others.  I wanted to run hard.  I wanted to push my lazy body and make it pay for it's inactivity.  But this was also a social outing.  Internally I fought between staying with my friends and running for me.

This morning on the way to work My Runner kept asking me if/why I was upset.  Wha?  I didn't feel upset.  I was fine.  Just fine.  I got the "... okayyyy...." and rightly so.  Of course I wasn't fine, but I wasn't even admitting to myself I wasn't fine.  How could I admit it to anyone else?

I'm not fine.  There are very basic aspects of my life that have no organization.  Chaos reigns.  I'm on the verge of tears for the smallest things.  And no, I'm not PMS-ing.  It's time to organize, purge, and regroup.

Back to running at least three times a week.  Every other Wednesday is a group run at this point, plus at least once a month I'm either doing a 5K or a longer group run, but that's not enough.  I want to be strong enough to snowshoe this winter and not hurt myself.  We're planning a trip to Mt. Katahdin in ME which is a rigorous hike.  Running is the cheapest and easiest way for me to stay in shape to do the things I want to do.  Now that I have a headlamp, running in the evening is a bit safer.  Time to break out that mace for my solo runs and see if anyone's got a spare reflective vest kicking around.  (Anyone got a spare reflective vest kicking around?)

My spending moratorium is back.  Again.  Expenses shall be limited to groceries (not "food"- lunch out is not a qualified expense), gas, and bills.  I do, of course, have a few exceptions (like baby-soul eye-cream), but this is THE plan.  I will keep my goal firmly in front of me, and since it's concrete I will share: a new car.  By May I'd like my credit card paid off, and about $4000 in cash (savings combined with the sale of my car), so I can put money down on a new Honda Fit (or something similar).  Currently I pay between $200-$250 to my credit card, but since I keep using it a bit it's not going down as fast as I'd like it.  I can get a car payment under $300, so I'd simply be replacing my credit card payment with a car payment.  Considering how often my Cabrio has had issues, I think this is a solid investment.  This means putting off purchases I had planned on, like a new laptop, a hair cut, and some new dish towels, but eh.  I'll live.

I'll be eating right.  And by that I mean eating poor.  I have PLENTY of food in my house.  The only groceries I should need are fruits and vegetables- I have enough protein and grains to get me through at least mid-December.  I'll give making bread another try- it was never AWESOME but it was generally edible.  Leftovers are not just a staple, but THE staple.  Creatively using ingredients is something the best home cooks do, and I have enough of the basics down to spread my wings.  Hell, I might even find a new awesome dish (amongst the awful failures and mediocre offerings).

The final aspect- accountability.  If I make my choices public then I must be accountable for my actions.  Looking back to when I was training for a half-marathon, I posted my runs all the time.  I won't do that, but I will start publishing my miles (look to the sidebar).  I will post about my kitchen experiments.  Maybe make a game show out of it!  What would YOU do with a can of black beans, a bag of frozen mixed veggies, and rotini?  You have almost every condiment imaginable, especially spicy ones.  Go.  And when I get to reward my good spending habits with test drives, I'll let you know what I think.

Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival- 5k

Saturday promised to be a beautiful, if warm, day.  Five of us piled into Puma's car to head to Pineland Farms for the Saturday events: 10k, 5k Canicross, 5k, and Barefoot 5k.  We'd have representation in all but the Canicross, a 5k run with your doggie.  Puma, having just come off a 5 day through hike, would be taking the day off and enjoying the festival.

Me, Mrs. Strong, My Runner, and GB (photo by Puma- thx!)

And festival it was!  Tents with food, beer, free-bees, and music were spread out in the grove on campus.  Farmland, mostly hay fields, rolled out around us, inter-spaced with shady wooded areas.  There were dogs a-plenty, some ready to race, some just kickin' around.  Start and finish for all races were in this grove.

Mrs. Strong was participating in the 10k, starting an hour before the other events, and we got her registered and in line just in time.  Thank goodness the race started late!  Since the Muddy Moose where she ran 14 miles for the first time, Mrs. Strong has been running with her neighbor and, while rushed to get started, seemed very confident in her abilities.

Mrs. Strong, putting her sneakers on at the starting line

Shortly after the 10k, the Canicross event started.  I think they wanted all the poochies off the course when the other 5k events begin.  It was fun to see all the different kind of dogs that were running.  From huge labs to tiny terriers, just about every type of dog was represented.  Personalities of the dogs matched the owners, as the elite runners moved to the front, and their competitive dogs barked, jumped, and pranced.

Canicross start.  That little pup almost got hisself CHOMPED.

The 5k start was next.  I'm the only one participating in this, with My Runner and GB both participating in the Barefoot 5k, starting 10 minutes after mine.  This is the first run I've done in 6 weeks.  Other than one hockey game and a couple of workout videos, I haven't moved since April 24th, the day I tore my left ankle to shreds.  My goal was to finish uninjured and see if I would be able to participate in tomorrow's 25k.

::Hugs::

My Runner sees me to the starting line.  I'm nervous, but ready to get out there.  I feel good, despite the MASSIVE hangover I woke up with.  My ankle is in check, and as long as I don't space out, I should be able to run these trails without falling.

I am SO. OUT. OF. SHAPE.  I walked about 30% of the race.  Running alone isn't my favorite, but not many folks were into chatting.  Still, the scenery was pretty, and I was focused on scanning the trail for potential hazards.  The elite runners in the barefoot start passing me just before mile 2, and as the course folds back in on itself I see My Runner and GB.

Waving and smiling, all I could think was, "don't let them catch you."  That motivated me.  That and trying not to get my picture taken while I was walking (fail, see below)

See that ripped dude behind me?  Yeah, he's running.  Not this girl.

Still, they were a bit behind, and I was getting winded.  I "ultra walked" the hills to conserve and catch my breath.  Then I'd walk the flats.... that was an ego blow.  Chatting with another 5ker who was not used to hills helped pass the time, but as more and more Barefooters passed me, and as I got closer to the finish line, I kicked it in gear (not high gear- don't have that one right now... just not neutral).  Finished the race in 34:38.

Mrs. Strong had come in shortly after I started at 1:05:28- an excellent time.  The Barefooters came in 26:09/10, yes, less than 2 minutes behind me.  Was happy to catch this bit of action:

Boys....

In my good days, an 11 minute mile would have made me sad.  Saturday, I was happy to have finished feeling good, and even happier that Smuttynose had sponsored the race, offering unlimited free beer to runners.  I still wasn't sure participating in the 25k was a good idea, but it was at least still an option.

Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival- Preview

This Memorial Day weekend I'm heading up to Maine with a group of friends to camp and participate in the Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival.  I'm scheduled to run a 5k (3.1 mi) on Saturday at a 25k (15.5 mi) on Sunday.  This will be the first time I've run since I re-sprained my ankle on April 24th.  You know, the 5k run that was killing me because I was out of shape?  Yeah, that one.

I know I'm not in shape at all for these runs.  My ankle isn't 100% (best I can tell it's 80-90%, but it hasn't really been tested yet).  I should be able to jog the 5k in 45 minutes, and I have 9 hours to finish the 25k.  You'd have to average 35 minute miles to but up against that deadline.  With my ankle in a brace, I could walk 15.5 miles and finish well under the cutoff time- something I may do.

I'm chomping at the bit to get back to running.  Feeling my body morph from lean and fit to soft over the last few weeks has been pretty demoralizing.  The weather has been beautiful, but I've yet to be able to play outside.  I have plans for long hikes and a few other races this summer, including relaying the VT 50 with my dad, and I'd like to be healthy and ready to take them on.  Healthy, of course, is a combination of being physically fit enough for the challenges and having strength back in my ankle.

So, I will "run" these two races this weekend.  I WILL be careful.  I'm not looking to set speed records here. I'm thinking of it as dipping my toe in the pond, testing the waters.  How will my ankle hold up?  My body?  How sore will I be?  What do I need to focus on when I restart my training?  What type of cross-training will help strengthen my weak spots?

No matter what the results of my "testing" are, this weekend promises to be fun.  A good reminder as we memorialize loved ones that life goes on, and the best way to remember those that are gone is to enjoy our lives to the fullest, as they would have wanted for us.

Hockey Revival

Monday night I played hockey for the first time in 6 weeks.  I wore the ankle brace Mrs. Strong lent me, and I brought my game.  My ankle did ok- it was a little swollen by the end of the night, but the indoor rink was clocking in at about 85 degrees and I blame the heat as much as the usage.

Boy am I out of shape.  I huffed and puffed up and down that rink.  My soul was yearning to play, so I worked through my "exhaustion," but I can tell I have a lot of work to do to get back to where I was.

"Elevating my ankle" at a Hood Park game

HOWEVER.  The last 6 weeks I've been watching hockey.  A LOT of hockey.  Nerd Herd games, roller hockey at the Hood Park Hockey League, NHL finals...  Damn, I'd watch peewee hockey if I was standing next to it.  And I think the watching really improved my skill.  I watched the mistakes we made over and over.  I saw how good plays were set up, and how to foil a play the other team is making.  It was proven empirically, over and over, that just taking shots will eventually work; no need to get all fancy.

Before my injury, I'll admit, I was getting tired of hockey.  I felt like my team was out of joint and disconnected, that I was playing poorly, and that it was taking up time I could be doing other things.  6 weeks of watching has cured me!  Monday's game lit the fire in my belly.  I feel like I played positionally pretty well, even managing to get a few shots on net.

I still have plenty of room for improvement.  I've got to start running again soon, or at least doing cardio so my body is in shape for sprinting.  I still need to work on my basic hockey skills like stick handling and catching passes.  I'm feeling the motivation to improve- finally.... something I've been missing from my life for a while.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!?!

I did it again.  I broke myself.  Again.

Three weeks ago I rolled my left ankle at the Tuesday Night NHSSC Hockey finals.  It hurt, I had to walk around the track, but I was still able to finish the game.  I gave it a few days, then started taping it and was back to running and hiking.  Last Saturday, the morning of the move, My Runner, Puma Girl, and I ran in a 5K trail run hosted by EMS.  It was hard- I hadn't been training much and boy was I feeling it.  The trail was primarily uphill for the first part of the course, and it was taking the mickey out of me.  I realized I should probably slow down when my tunnel vision prevented me from seeing a root, which I then tripped on and fell flat on the ground.  No worries, brushed my self off and kept going, albeit at a slower pace.

At the top of the hill My Runner was waiting for me.  (Puma Girl was battling her own owies, so she took it slow.)  I was tired, so it was nice to have the company.  The view was beautiful at the top of the hill, and My Runner's chatting with me about training etc.  We were running downhill, and I was starting to feel better.  I had the clarity in my brain to begin thinking about a training schedule, since I have a 25K (15.5mi) trail run coming up at the end of May, not to mention the possibility of pacing My Runner at Massenutten, so I shoul-

::Insert epic fall here::

I don't know if I tripped over anything.  I think my left foot came down on an uneven surface, and I felt the ankle start to roll.  Normally I would have just gone with it and it would have been fine, but since the ankle was already hurt, I then felt the pain of tearing, my ankle rolled further, and I went all the way down, rolling into the brush on the side of the trail.  And of course I was bawling.  I was feeling intense pain, but also rage and frustration.  I knew this was a bad injury.  I wasn't going to be able to walk it off.  

It took a long time to calm down.  The longer the pain was intense, the worse I felt emotionally.  Most people were lovely and expressed concern when they passed.  The Run Director stopped and checked in on me; she was so concerned.  I hiked about a mile out, first on My Runner's shoulder, then on Puma Girl's when she caught up to us and My Runner went to get the car.  

That was last Saturday.  After the sprain, I shopped around EMS for an hour or so (what? they were having a great sale!), iced it on the way to Manch, and MOVED (with the generous help of My Runner, My Parents, and some friends).  I tried to be brave and I tried to help, but I was in a lot of pain the whole day.

It's 6 days later and I'm still in pain.  It's better.  It's healing.  But there's still a good amount of swelling.  I have bruising halfway up my calf and down into my foot.  Unpacking last night left me limping again.  I keep it wrapped most of the time and ice it on and off throughout the day.  Had to bail from a wicked fun sounding 5K this Sunday, and needless to say that training schedule I was working on when I fell has been tabled.  

Most of the time I'm level headed about it.  I realize that there's nothing I can do but do my best to help it heal.  Stay off it as much as possible, don't get back to running or hiking too soon.  Sometimes I get caught in the pit of despair, though.  I start thinking about the events I've committed to, and especially as the weather gets nicer how much I want to be outside running or hiking.  I think of how "behind" I am in training.  I feel my waistline expanding as my caloric burn reduces but my eating habits don't change.  

I fell into the downward spiral this past Monday after watching my team play hockey without me.  My Runner noticed, and quoted me to me: "Don't let something you can't change ruin a perfectly good night."  I hate it when My Runner outsmarts me with... me.  But, at least I still end up being "right."  :-)  I'm trying to heed my advice this time and not get too down about being injured.  It sucks, but why should I let that ruin my life?  It's not forever.

New Recipe: February

Barley Risotto with Cauliflower and Red Wine

In pursuit of my goal to cook at least one new recipe a month, last night I made Barley Risotto.  I had picked up the ingredients late last week, then ended up with no time to cook.  Luckily, dried barley is UBER shelf-stable, I always have wine, and cauliflower takes a long time to get nasty in the fridge.

I've never cooked barley before.  I've never made risotto before.  So.... this was interesting.

I used my medium sized enamel-coated cast-iron pot (a dutch oven), but I think this could be made in a stainless steal stock pot as well.  I just don't have one.  Well, I do, but it's currently in the cupboards at Camp, which is closed up for the winter.  It was messy.  Make sure the cauliflower is cut up real small - almost a dice.  There's a lot of stirring and big pieces kept flying out or pushing barley bits out.  Bad enough to have bits all over the stove, but after putting the red wine in, the bits were like little stain-bombs.

The barley took about 45 minutes to fully cook.  I probably used 1-1/2 boxes of chicken stock total.  Also, because I love cheese, I amped that up.  The end result is a strange puce color, but yummy.  Probably could have added salt?  But the flavor was a little... one-note for a main dish.  The cauliflower didn't get the nutty flavor I was hoping for.  Perhaps roasting it first could have achieved that, but I don't think I'll be taking that extra step.  It also made a HUGE amount.  Unless you're feeding 4 people regularly, cut the recipe in half.

The barley made a delicious risotto.  I'll be working with it again like classic risotto, trying it on its own, adding mushrooms or chicken or other types of cheese.  This recipe was a good place to start.

Back in the (Training) Saddle Again

Running Partners

With permission from my excellent PT staff, I'm back training again.  It's hard.  Sometimes to the point of being demoralizing.  The first time I did a mile and change I thought I would die on the last hill.  2.5 miles was similarly killer.  Mentally I accept that this is where my body is after taking such a long rest, but emotionally it's a very difficult pill to swallow.  I get into my head, think about how much I lost and how far I have to go....  then it's a downward spiral.  My chest gets tight, the tears sting my eyes, my teeth clench... none of which actually contributes to my running.

The other night when My Runner and I were out on a 2.5 miler, he made a good point (this happens a lot....).  He asked what I was so worried about.  Getting re-injured is my biggest fear.  "Before or after the half-marathon?"  Well, either, really.  "You have to pick one," he pushed.  Well, if I have to choose, it would be before.  I don't have any races scheduled for weeks after the half.  I don't care if I drag my mangled limbs over the finish line as long as they CROSS the finish line.  "Then focus on the smaller races.  Increase your mileage slowly.  If you have to walk to finish the races, so be it.  It beats not being able to even toe the line."  He was right.  I've been worrying so hard about the half-marathon, but I have FOUR races to complete before I even do that. 

I'm working on a new training schedule.  It's all very informal now.  It's been suggested that I track my miles here so I stay accountable, but I'm reluctant.  Partly because I PROMISE THIS ISN'T A RUNNING BLOG.  Partly because maybe I'm not ready to be accountable.  Maybe I'm afraid to really see how far behind I am in numerical form.  It will solidify my feelings of defeat. 

I'm also afraid I'll get hurt again before the next race.  In fact, I did hurt myself again on Saturday.  Luckily, it wasn't lasting and I was able to rest it and run on Sunday, but it was scary and frustrating enough that I couldn't hold back the tears.  Sure, it hurt physically (tweaked my quad when I slipped on ice), but mentally I felt so defeated.   I'm afraid I'll get so frustrated I'll want to chuck the whole thing.  I'm afraid I'll never find running fun again.  I'm afraid My Runner will get so fed up with my negative attitude he'll stop wanting to run with me.

So, as much as I need to work on my training physically, I need to work on my mental state.  I have to find the joy in running, overcome the frustration and negativity.  I found personal joy in running; that's why I invested so much time and effort in it.  I miss that joy.  The feelings of defeat can be overwhelming sometimes, but as I run, as My Runner talks me through my feelings, and as I work through my fears, I'm finding that the negativity is lessened.  I still huff like an ornery Clydesdale going up the tough hills, letting out the occasional ragey groan at how tough it is.  I still feel my chest tighten when I let the bad stuff wash over me.  But it's easier to hold the tide at bay.  Sunday, running 3.5miles for the first time since my injury, I actually found myself smiling and laughing during the run.  I felt some joy at running.  It was wonderful, and I can't wait to run again and work on finding that feeling.  My next training goal isn't distance, it's joy.

Not extatic, but moving toards joyfull....

Therapy of the Physical Kind

You'd think with a family of medical professionals (and some working towards it) I'd be smart when it came to physical ailments.  Turns out I'm merely sophomoric.  And there's a reason I went into the arts and not the sciences.

I misdiagnosed my injury owie.  After my evaluation with Effie, my PT, today, she pinpointed the pain better than I or my doctor did and found that the rotator muscles, the ones that keep the ball in the socket of my hip joint, are actually the problem.  After a thorough session of stretching and flexing and pushing, she determined the cause to be high flexibility in my hips (I actually saw her eyes get wider when she was rotating my legs) but weakness in the adductor and abductor muscles (the in and out ones).

Effie also found that my quads were crazy tight.  She had me lay on the table with one knee at my chest and the other leg hanging off, with the edge of the table at butt level.  Apparently, one's leg should hang at a 90* angle.  Mine was more obtuse - closer to 120*.  Whoops.  She guessed the tightness was a combination of not stretching and my glutes compensating for my hips.

I walked out with homework and hope.  I have several stretches that I have to do daily, plus strengthening exercises.  She told me I was allowed to ride a stationary bike, but I should refrain from running until the pain goes away.  Effie will be doing my overall plan, though I'll meet with her and Laura, another clinician, twice a week.  Monday is my next appointment, and I'll be doing more exercises and getting new homework.

Obviously it's too early to tell if I'll be able to train at all or even run the half marathon.  I did let her know that I signed up for it and am going to VA, regardless of progress, but I'll be advised by them on if I should attempt it.  

It's nice to finally feel something other than frustration.  I felt like Effie really heard me.  She knew that being active was important to me.  She treated me like an individual, and took the time to help find stretches that worked for me, correcting my form in some cases.  It was everything I hoped for.  

The real challenge?  I've never been one to do my homework.  Of course, I was never as motivated by trigonometry as I am now.

Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the News

I've got a bad case of.... tendinitis. 

I ran for the first time in over a week on Sunday.  2.2 miles, mostly dirt.  My hip was bothering me a bit when we were done.  Ten minutes after it was bothering me a lot.  An hour later, I was limping.  The next day, pain still.


The worst part about being injured is the total lack of control I have over it.  Sure, I can keep from injuring it further, mostly, but really I can't do anything to help.  And I hate it.  I hate that it slows me down.  I hate that I walk like an old lady if I've been sitting on it too long.  I hate that I think about it when I'm playing hockey or want to go running or snow shoeing.  I hate that it makes me cry, not from the pain but from the frustration.  Mostly I hate that it's keeping me from spending time with My Runner doing what we love. 


So I did the only thing I have control over.  I called my doctor on Monday to follow up.  A week of rest, ibuprofen, and ice and/or heat had not improved anything.  My pain was mostly gone during that week, but it often felt stiff or sore.  And obviously running aggravated it again.  The answering service took my information (yeah, they were open, they just screen calls with a service - how bureaucratic of them...) and I started looking for Physical Therapy offices. 


My Dad had a great suggestion - call a local running club for suggestions.  My Runner, taking it a step further, suggested I contact the local running store, as the local running club operates through them.  His suggestion was spot-on; they had several referrals for me.  Ultimately I chose a place that was relatively close by, and one of the staff is acquainted with My Runner.  Hopefully I won't feel as anonymous as I do at my doctor's office.  I called to ask if I needed a referral or prescription from my doctor (I did), and asked them to fax over any new patient forms I'd need to fill out (they did).  The nurse from my doctor's office called in as I was finishing that conversation.


She confirmed what I had told the answering service (seriously?  why bother?), and I spoke to her about PT.  She said, "Sounds like tendinitis to me.  There's no cure for that."  ::pause::  Yeah, ok, well I'd like to keep it from recurring.  "Well, it's not like we can perform surgery on it.  It doesn't go away."  ::more pause::  Yes, I understand, but I lead an active life style and I would like to work with a Physical Therapist so I can learn to keep this in check and avoid the pain.  "Oh.  Well, I'll have to go talk with the doctor."


Really?  Jeeze... ok.  Already diagnosed it as tendinitis (coulda told you that a week and a half ago when you said ibuprofen and ice, but ok), and now we need to "talk" to the doctor to see if it's ok if I go to PT?  Fine. 


"The doctor wants to see you before she gives you a prescription for PT.  Would you like an appointment next week?"  No, I want your next available appointment.  "Ah.  Tomorrow, 9:15am?"  Yes.  See you then.


Tuesday morning I arrive at the office at 9:10am, wait the customary 15 minutes, am ushered into an exam room where the medical assistant takes my pulse (51 bpm, not bad) and blood pressure (82/174 - is that good?  I don't even know....), and asks AGAIN what's wrong.  As she's writing it into the computer I wonder how many other entries they have with the EXACT SAME information.  You know, what I've told the answering service twice, the nurse twice, and now the medical assistant?  She leaves, the doc comes in, and asks me THE SAME DAMNED QUESTIONS.  And guess what?  She types them into the computer.  ::sigh::  I feel like some sort of typing test - who can type my complaint the fastest with the least amount of missed keystrokes?


She has me take off my pants (hottt, yeahh) and pushes around my hip a bit asking where it hurts.  I know this is a formality, but seriously, I pointed to my hip flexor tendon, and said, "It hurts here."  Guess what?  That's the only place she found where it hurt.  Then she had me push my leg around in different directions, I suppose to see WHICH hip tendon hurt when I was using it.  Ready for the big surprise?  Yeah, there's not one.  Same result.  Good job doc.  I'm sure she just had me in to collect the fees from Anthem.  Awesome.  Way to be a part of the big machine.


She tells me she's gonna send me to PT (duh - would have walked out and taken my insurance card to another office right then and there if she hadn't), and that they would help build up the muscle in my legs and lower torso to take some of the strain off my tendon.  Sure, whatevs, hon.  Just get the script and let me put my pants back on. 


At checkout I tell the nurse what PT office I had chosen.  She assures me she'll fax them my info and they'll contact me.  I'm an impatient sort - I ended up calling them that afternoon and set up an appointment for tomorrow.  I faxed in my patient information forms, and hopefully, starting Thursday, I'll be on the road to recovery.