Some dreams are so vivid, the details so real, that it takes real convincing once awake to believe it was only a dream. I have been experiencing my dreams in just that way recently. Sometimes, fully awake, I can close my eyes for a second and call up a dream in such high definition that I am certain I am watching television rather than starting through a wide open window in to my subconscious.
I recently dreamt in excruciating detail the hour before the start of an un-named (in the dream) marathon. I was standing in a locker room that seemed so familiar. I was shirtless wearing running shorts and shoes. I was surrounded by other men who were similarly dressed. We all were sticking band-aids to our nipples. I was working hard on a criss-cross pattern I have used many times in races making certain there wouldn't be slippage during the race. Slippage is bad, it leads to bloody nipples. Nobody wants that.
The dream more or less ends there. I did recognize one friend in the dream who I won't name here for fear that he doesn't want the world to picture him adorning his tenderest of skin with adhesive bandages as preparation for a run, albeit a darn long run.
I would have liked to see bibs on shirts to confirm the marathon in question. No such luck. And I don't recall anything that identified the locker room. I have never been in a locker room prior to any race, after yes, but never before. That's an odd one too.
The whole thing strikes me as simultaneously odd and hopeful. Odd because dreams are like that. The implicit hope is that some part of me believes a marathon lurks in my future. When and where are apparently unknown for now. With my back spasms pushing into a full month now, I do wonder why I am being hopeful.
I guess for now the dream is the umbrella over my personal rainfall.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Back Again
While my back recovered enough to allow me to run the 10K way back in late September, I didn't show respect for the recovery by racing. The day after the run, I went out for a fast-paced 30 mile bike ride that included a modicum of hill climbing. That was the last September Sunday. After the ride, I felt invigorated in the way a good workout stirs the pot and makes you feel better. Monday was another story.
Monday started just fine. About ten minutes before I was to leave the house to drive my little guy to school, I felt a pinch in my back. It just started to tighten. A little at first and then it got worse and worse. By midday, I couldn't sit at my desk at work. Standing up intensified the spasm and the pain that came with it. In short, with my quads continuing to burn from my reckless hill attacking 10K that brought me neither hardware nor a PR time, my back was rendering an unmistakable verdict on my -- too much, too soon.
No one has ever questioned my willingness to train hard. Although, on second thought, that statement may be false as several people over the years told me that peak weeks of 60 miles were not enough to get me over the marathon finish line in under three hours. The results confirm the criticism, but that was then and this is, well, this is the comeback of my comeback's comeback, if you will.
Back (pun unavoidable) to physical therapy. The early sessions (there have been several) were about exorcising the spasm from my contorted trunk, minimizing the pain (as I again opted out of any chemical relief from the agony) and helping me rebuild my core.
I often joke about wanting to shop at the Core Store to get the things I need to give me a strong back, and front. No such store seems to exist. But, if it did, I have stumbled now onto some very odd items that would be kept in inventory there. Or, perhaps, not. They might be special order items.
My therapist gave me the most subtle, internal, movements to master as a way of strengthening my "deep" abdominal muscles. So obscure are these movements, that her description of how to know I was hitting the correct muscle was nearly pornographic. It took some work to find, but I was rewarded with praise when I did.
Finally, yesterday, we progressed to exercises with larger, less secretive movements. I wouldn't say I have mastered those just yet, but I do appreciate her approach of trying to wipe out my back pain for a lifetime. I am guessing 45 year old me has a fair shot of pushing back pain down the road a ways, but 50 or 60 year old me won't be able to avoid it.
As last night's session neared its terminus, I looked to my PT with a certitude that belied how I was really feeling and begged for the opportunity to run, and soon. She resisted, but I pushed back on the premise that I needed to run as a data collection project to know how things were progressing. I promised a short, easy run along the shortest route I run. With that, she relented.
Early this morning, with my headlamp on (geek with a new toy, stand back), I ventured out into the morning darkness and ran a little over 4 miles at a little faster than a 7:30 pace. Nice and easy as promised. I was pleased. I will try again tomorrow.
Monday started just fine. About ten minutes before I was to leave the house to drive my little guy to school, I felt a pinch in my back. It just started to tighten. A little at first and then it got worse and worse. By midday, I couldn't sit at my desk at work. Standing up intensified the spasm and the pain that came with it. In short, with my quads continuing to burn from my reckless hill attacking 10K that brought me neither hardware nor a PR time, my back was rendering an unmistakable verdict on my -- too much, too soon.
No one has ever questioned my willingness to train hard. Although, on second thought, that statement may be false as several people over the years told me that peak weeks of 60 miles were not enough to get me over the marathon finish line in under three hours. The results confirm the criticism, but that was then and this is, well, this is the comeback of my comeback's comeback, if you will.
Back (pun unavoidable) to physical therapy. The early sessions (there have been several) were about exorcising the spasm from my contorted trunk, minimizing the pain (as I again opted out of any chemical relief from the agony) and helping me rebuild my core.
I often joke about wanting to shop at the Core Store to get the things I need to give me a strong back, and front. No such store seems to exist. But, if it did, I have stumbled now onto some very odd items that would be kept in inventory there. Or, perhaps, not. They might be special order items.
My therapist gave me the most subtle, internal, movements to master as a way of strengthening my "deep" abdominal muscles. So obscure are these movements, that her description of how to know I was hitting the correct muscle was nearly pornographic. It took some work to find, but I was rewarded with praise when I did.
Finally, yesterday, we progressed to exercises with larger, less secretive movements. I wouldn't say I have mastered those just yet, but I do appreciate her approach of trying to wipe out my back pain for a lifetime. I am guessing 45 year old me has a fair shot of pushing back pain down the road a ways, but 50 or 60 year old me won't be able to avoid it.
As last night's session neared its terminus, I looked to my PT with a certitude that belied how I was really feeling and begged for the opportunity to run, and soon. She resisted, but I pushed back on the premise that I needed to run as a data collection project to know how things were progressing. I promised a short, easy run along the shortest route I run. With that, she relented.
Early this morning, with my headlamp on (geek with a new toy, stand back), I ventured out into the morning darkness and ran a little over 4 miles at a little faster than a 7:30 pace. Nice and easy as promised. I was pleased. I will try again tomorrow.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Refresher Course
I keep thinking things are improving and then I am not sure. Two weeks ago, my back went out. It was bad, but the pain was contained to roughly three days.
Things got better to the point where I showed up at a local 10K last weekend. I discovered that some lessons are worth learning more than once. I had to relearn the idiocy of going out too fast.
It was a small race, only 75 or so did the 10K vs. a total of 600 with 5K and walkers. I lined up near the front, planned to run smart and easy at the beginning and then try to pour it on once I hit the hills, the first four miles were hilly, the last 2 or so were on a flat trail. I started with a small group that would all finish ahead of me except one guy. I felt like I was working too hard, and was, as I ran the first 2 miles at 6:20 pace. Not so bad on the first mile, but once I started to climb, I knew I was over my head.
Miles 3-5 were ugly. I was slowing down and was certain at one point I had already passed the Mile 5 marker. I know I hoped I had, but no such luck. I felt a bit energized when that elusive Mile 5 marker was in view, but the march to the finish from there was slow and painful. The only consolation was that no runner passed me as I expected one would. Nothing makes an old school meltdown worse than having a runner who went out slow and did it right effortlessly gliding by you in the last half mile. I crossed the line in 41:24. I was OK with the time given that I wanted to run 6:45's.
My question was didn't I just run the 6:45's and save myself the aggravation and stress? I will have to remember that for next time.
The stats are fun, I was 7th overall and 1st in my age group. No hardware at this race and it's just as well. I don't want to be reminded of this one.
I guess the reminder was the burning sensation in my quads that then turned into a nasty back spasm on Monday morning. Today is Thursday and my back is still bad. I would love to say lesson learned, but I think I still have more studying to do.
Things got better to the point where I showed up at a local 10K last weekend. I discovered that some lessons are worth learning more than once. I had to relearn the idiocy of going out too fast.
It was a small race, only 75 or so did the 10K vs. a total of 600 with 5K and walkers. I lined up near the front, planned to run smart and easy at the beginning and then try to pour it on once I hit the hills, the first four miles were hilly, the last 2 or so were on a flat trail. I started with a small group that would all finish ahead of me except one guy. I felt like I was working too hard, and was, as I ran the first 2 miles at 6:20 pace. Not so bad on the first mile, but once I started to climb, I knew I was over my head.
Miles 3-5 were ugly. I was slowing down and was certain at one point I had already passed the Mile 5 marker. I know I hoped I had, but no such luck. I felt a bit energized when that elusive Mile 5 marker was in view, but the march to the finish from there was slow and painful. The only consolation was that no runner passed me as I expected one would. Nothing makes an old school meltdown worse than having a runner who went out slow and did it right effortlessly gliding by you in the last half mile. I crossed the line in 41:24. I was OK with the time given that I wanted to run 6:45's.
My question was didn't I just run the 6:45's and save myself the aggravation and stress? I will have to remember that for next time.
The stats are fun, I was 7th overall and 1st in my age group. No hardware at this race and it's just as well. I don't want to be reminded of this one.
I guess the reminder was the burning sensation in my quads that then turned into a nasty back spasm on Monday morning. Today is Thursday and my back is still bad. I would love to say lesson learned, but I think I still have more studying to do.
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