Quote du jour: The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible. -Arthur C. Clarke
Quotes like this one tend to annoy me. I mean, basically he's saying you have to screw up before you can learn anything. It's probably true, but that doesn't make it any less annoying.
Damn Foot is a case in point. I pushed Damn Foot until it developed the pinched nerve before I stopped and went to the foot doctor. Now I'm getting back into the running slowly enough that I'm not pushing past its limits. (It still hurts, but not especially after running. Usually it hurts most first thing in the morning, when my feet are swollen anyway. That, I can live with. For now.)
Exercise du jour: Week 9 of the c25k Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 3 miles (or 30 minutes).
Not really done, but I'm putting the star up for jogging 1 mile, walking 3.
Not only is it Friday, it's Friday of a holiday weekend. Enjoy!
Goal of the month: Day 26 of the 30-day purge. I am proud to say that there is noticeably less stuff around to purge.
Goal of the week: Get up by 8 a.m. (No, I'm not braving the stores today!)
Exercise du jour: C25k Week 5. Yes, it's that time. The infamous 20 minute jog.
Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog two miles (or 20 minutes) with no walking. Done! Plus, 20 minutes on the elliptical. Damn foot didn't complain about the 20 minutes jogging, but afterward he bitched a bit. 2 ibuprofen and fingers crossed. The foot doc was right: easing back into running slowly has been pretty painless... at least, it has been so far...
HBBC: 3 (argh! want more points!) Photo courtesy of Daniel J. Mclain.
I'm betting none of these guys do a lot of sitting around...
Study du jour: Even if you work out every day, if you spend 8 hours sitting at a desk every day, you're at greater risk of a heart attack.
Now there's an incentive to take a walk at lunch. And walk down the hall to talk to the engineer instead of sending an email. And get up every hour or so to touch my toes. Or someone's toes, at any rate.
Plus, as of last night I have ... wait for it... actually parked my car in the garage. Yes, I know. It's un-American not to leave the car outside and stuff your stuff in the garage, but that's what I did. It feels meaningful somehow, like I'm putting the car away. Is this an out of sight, out of mind thing? I don't know, but it does feel like a positive step.
Exercise du jour: Week 1 of the C25k. Walk to and from the Max rather than taking the car. And maybe a walk at lunch, if the foot feels amenable. Done! Well, the morning, evening, and C25k part. The foot said @!#%$ at lunch time. I'll try again next week. It's still encouraging that damn foot is letting me do this much without problems. So far, fingers crossed.
I hadn't previously held this truth to be self-evident: not all soles are created equal.
When I went to the foot doctor, I wore my old(ish) Asics, which I'd now designated walking shoes.
He pointed out how worn the tread was, and told me that you shouldn't be able to flex a shoe past the toes. Then he flexed the shoe up until the toe was nearly touching the heel.
I was astonished. I mean, I'm not a marathon runner. At my craziest most fit, I've never run more than 8 miles a week. And yet in just one year, those shoes were toast.
What's weird is that I then went home and tried the same flex test on my old Pearl Izumis. (No, I don't throw old shoes away. Hell, I don't throw anything away. Hence the archaeological dig through the garage.)
Lo and behold! The Pearl Izumis flexed the toe area and no further. And the tread looked pretty good too. (I'm planning to wear the P.I.s to the foot doctor next time, just to see what he thinks of them.) I've had those shoes a full year more than the Asics, and even though I haven't run as much on them, I've run a lot and walked more. Yet they seem in way better shape.
Today I go back to the foot doctor so he can try fitting my feets with orthotic inserts. He warns me that this might involve buying bigger shoes. If so, I'm heading for the running store this time.
Exercise du jour: If it's not too much to ask, God, I'd like to try a little running today. Please?
Done! Now off to visit Mr. Icepack and his cousin Mr. Ibuprofen
Last week's goal was to get up and get out the door by 7:30 a.m. Sounds simple enough... in theory. In practice, it went something like this:
Monday: Out the door by 7:50 a.m. Not too bad.
Tuesday: Well, okay, so it's closer to 8:00 a.m. Still not that bad. Wednesday: Hey, a lot of people might consider 8:30 to be quite early, really. Thursday: Crap, why does the clock say 9:15? Friday: @#!$!% this @#$%, I need to catch up on my @#!% sleep and I don't @#!% a !@#% what @#%!% says.
In other words, there was a fatal flaw in my plan. I thought forcing myself to get up at crack o' dawn would naturally result in my falling asleep at an earlier hour. Not even close. By the end of the week, my brain was writing checks that my body couldn't cash.
Goal for the week: Forcing my fool self to go to bed early! And, yes, another crack at the goal of getting out the door by 7:30 in the a.m.
Done! Up and out the door by.... well, okay, 7:45 a.m. But that's better than last week. (Not by much, okay, but still better.) Plus, I tried running. 20 minutes, with a few walking breaks. Slow running indoors, trying to put some of the weight on the heels. Off to ice and ibuprofe before it starts hurting. We'll see how it goes.
Jennifer Grey is making me think resentful thoughts.
Not only does she have a pinched nerve in her foot, like me, she's also got bolts holding her body together and even so she's kicking ass on Dancing with the Stars. She's screwing up the curve for the rest of us. I can't even mow the lawn without my foot feeling like it's on fire, and she's rehearsing every day on the dance floor.
How do I know this if I haven't been watching the show? A friend told me. The conversation went something like this:
Friend: So, why aren't you running? Me: The pinched nerve in my foot hurts. I need to rest the foot to get it better. Friend: Jennifer Grey has a pinched nerve in her foot. It hasn't stopped her from dancing every week.
Maybe I'm being over-sensitive, but I seem to hear a bit of an accusation in those words.
I am bothered by the idea that pain is something you're supposed to overcome. Pain is your body telling you there's a problem. If you ignore the warning and "suck it up" you're not solving the problem. The only thing you're doing is bolstering your ego: "Hey, I'm tough. Sure, I broke my foot in three places, but that doesn't stop me doing a marathon every week. "
I read blogs written by Josie and Tricia. They're not giving up because the foot hurts, but they are listening to their bodies and modifying their workouts. And they certainly are not wimps; they're women who've worked hard to become thin and fit. And they still have to face injuries like mine.
Update: Ha! I actually watched a few minutes of Dancing with the Stars, but that was long enough to hear one of the judge's warning that Jennifer Grey needed to be careful or she was going to end up with serious injury.
Hmph. Bet my friend didn't see that bit.
Goal for the week: Get up crack o' dawn and be out of the door by 7:30 a.m. For me, that's a challenge. Done? Well... okay, not quite. Out the door by 7:50. But that's a start.
Exercise du jour: No running. No walking. Just rowing. Patience, grasshopper. Done!
Obligatory footnote: Yes, I'm sure Jennifer Grey is a perfectly nice person and she's certainly entitled to do whatever she wants with her own foot. I just don't like being compared to her, okay? Not that my friend reads this blog; I'm just venting.
[Note: inner slug is not nearly that cute. Plus, it can spell.]
One thing the week of Ornish quotes taught me was that I need to find a way to change my reaction to stress and frustration.
Once damn foot stops hurting, I want to go back to bike riding. (Yes, just as the winter is coming on: rain, darkness, all that good stuff.) The best part about commuting to work on a bicycle is that you can get all your rage, angst, aggression worked out of your body before you even get home. Then there's no urge to eat bad food, drink bad liquids, or grind your teeth.
The challenge here is that to commute by bicycle I am going to have to get up early and come into work early. So long as I can get on the road by 4:30, commuting by bike should be fine. What I really want to avoid is the 5 o'clock drivers, cause they're a cranky and inattentive bunch. (Even in the Portland suburbs, where bike riders are really not uncommon at all.)
To leave work by 4:30, I will need to get in to work early.
Goal for the week: To Get Up Early Every Morning and Get Out Of The House by... oh, let's say 7:30. To me, that's hella early, so it's a good challenge.
That's one thing I can start on now, even while damn foot is still cranky. It's a three-pronged approach: - I have to wanna be disciplined about going to bed at a reasonable hour. Surfing the internet is a luxury, not a necessity. Shut down the computer by 8 p.m. every night. - I have to wanna do the evening yoga session every night. It really helps me unwind. - I have to wanna un-friend Mr. Snooze button. It's over between us, S.
Done. Well, except for shutting the computer down by 8. Need to work on that.
Exercise du jour: 30 minutes on the elliptical. Done!
To me, metatarsalgia sounds like some kind of pasta. But apparently it's doctor-speak for 'pissed off foot.' Doc said the foot is not fractious, just hella swollen. The hammer toe is causing undue pressure on the joints, hence the problems.
He doesn't want me doing anything that will 'overuse' the foot. Like bicycling. Or jogging. Or walking. Or taking the stairs. Or taking a bath. Or pretty much anything else besides sitting, (unless it's sitting in a bathtub, which is verboten). He taped up my foot with a pad thing, which supposedly is going to make my foot feel allll better sometime soon. I can't take it off for a week, so I don't think Doc and I agree on the same definition of 'soon.'
I can ride a stationary bike if I don't use the ball of my foot to pedal. Thankfully, he's given the thumbs up to ellipticals and rowing machines and thankfully I have these in my life.
Frustrating -- I have to give up, at least for now, on all the goals I've been training for. No more 5ks this year. And it's boring to have to track progress by how many minutes I spend sitting on a machine. No matter how fast I row, I'm never closer to shore.
Exercise du jour: 30 minutes rowing. Done! Two days in a row of rowing. I hope that doesn't cause a row.
Several eonsdecades years ago, my aunt gave my mother her old rowing/skiing machine. My mother said "thank you" with great politeness if not great sincerity, and stuck it in the nearest closet. Where it lingered until I managed to excavate it and take it to Oregon so it could be appreciated.
However, since the dang thing did not come with instructions, or even hints, I had to wait until my mother could find where the instructions had been hidden so I could figure out what went where and also how to get the seat to move. (Not intuitive. Trust me.)
Amazingly enough, damn foot still hurt a bit when I rowed. Nothing that would stop me though. It is wonderful to feel that I can exercise!
Exercise du jour : 30 minutes with Rhoda.
Unpleasant task du jour: Made an appointment with a foot doctor for Monday. Have read all the preparatory paperwork -- they warned me to break open a bank vault and bring heavy sacks of gold with me to the doctor's office. Good to be prepared.
I've been practicing my own version of RICE (Rest, Ignore, Complain, Eat) and the foot seemed to have been getting better. Walked two miles yesterday, and it didn't fall off. Didn't even hurt much.
So this morning, I walked 1-1/2 miles. No problem. At lunch, walked 2 miles. A bit tender, but nothing ibuprofen couldn't deal with. Walked another mile from work to the Max, feeling okay.
I figured I was going to be fine. The last mile to the house would be no problem.
That's when my foot decided to make its move. Half a mile from the house, suddenly it feels like someone is stabbing a knife into my 2nd and 3rd toes. Could hardly put weight on the foot at all. Very irritating.
I was a mad limping fool all the way home. This is Not Fair.
What this is, of course, is God's way of telling me I should always listen to Dr. J.
Exercise du jour: Walking and swearing. Tomorrow's exercise will include picking up the phone and Making A Doctor's Appointment.
The desire to blog is similar to all the other biorhythms the flesh is heir to. In other words, the need to blog comes and goes for various reasons:
Sometimes you just don't have the urge.
Sometimes habit and momentum keep you going, the way a non-runner can keep jogging along to finish a 5k because she's done the couch-to-5k program and gotten into the habit.
Sometimes the writing well runs dry, and you're stuck trying to choose between posting a photograph and a deeply profound quotation, or just saying @#!% and going off to catch up on the latest trendy new TV show.
This post is a sum off all those points: I don't want to, habit keeps me typing even though I don't have anything to say and maybe I should just stop.
Why I started this blog
This blog was set up to track and motivate my exercising. "Exercise, try, or post the reason why." I should be blogging about my lack of motivation, trying to reason it out and if possible fix the problem.
What holds me back is the nature of blogging itself.
If I'm not motivated, I said I would blog about that too. Except that when do this, I get a bunch of comments saying "just do it already." What I'm trying to get at is the why behind the non-motivation. If I can figure out what causes the non-m., then I can try to fix the problem instead of always trying to get by on blind bloody-minded stubbornness.
Another problem with posting a blog about lack of motivation
Blogland is an emotional magnifying glass. A little whine is rendered large on the blog, blown up into a melodramatic drama queen rant. A depression fest transforms into an extremely dark post that automatically attracts a horde of light, chipper 'feel better, lol!' comments. Which I find the equivalent of handing a band-aid to someone who's just gotten their arm chopped off: at best it's unhelpful and at the worst it's a blithe slap in the face.
So how do I blog about the problem without the post itself becoming a problem?
See? I'm typing away, trying to do some brainstorming on the page, and instead what my mind is doing is second-guessing (and third-guessing) all the possible outcomes of each road I could go down.
The facts
Haven't exercised much.
The damn foot feels fine unless I use it. This presents me with a wonderful opportunity to be flexible and devote myself to bike riding and yoga. The trouble is that my mind is on track to run and damn it I don't want no bikes, yogis, or lolipops. I want to achieve the goal I'd set for myself.
Stuck in an unproductive cycle.
I need to break the cycle I've fallen into. I stay at work until late, finishing things up, then I drive home, try to catch up on my social life, stay up late, get up late, get to work late, stay late finishing things up, then I drive home and lather, rinse, repeat. I find it very easy to get depressed about how my life seems stuck in an endless cycle. Interestingly, I don't get depressed when my life is in an endless cycle of exercising. Maybe I'll re-incarnate as a hamster, get my own wheel, and be happy.
Actually, that's pretty much it. To break the cycle, I need to put myself first once in awhile at work. Last time I did that it actually worked better for myself and for the job.
The Plan (Capital letters always look serious and important)
Goals for this week:
Be flexible. If the foot says no, go with the flow. Yoga's not bad, neither is cycling. Even if neither is what I want, it's still exercise.
Be selfish. If I put the exercising first, everybody's happy.
There. At least I've got a plan. I feel much better. Or at least I feel like I've got a plan.
Quote du jour: I'm not a writer with a drinking problem. I'm a drinker with a writing problem. - Brendan Behan.
Exercise du jour: Not sure about this, but the schedule calls for a 6 mile run today. Last week, the foot hurt after the 5.5 mile run. I did manage a 2 mile run a few days later without much pain. But 6 miles? So long as I stuck to the wood chip trail, things actually went pretty well. But 6 miles? The swelling is way down in my foot, so that's another plus. But 6 miles?
I think the best thing to do is to try, slowly, and see what the foot has to say. If it bothers me to run on it, what the hell, I can try running a little and walking a lot.
If I end up walking 90% of the way, I'll still feel like I earned my star. Even if I'm just a walker with a jogging problem, it still counts.
Semi-fail. I would love to blame my foot, but the problem was with the opposite end of the body. I procrastinated the whole day away putting this off, then got depressed and did a jog/walk for a few miles. On the plus side, got a lot of boring chores done while procrastinating.
Brief dog story: Once upon a time in the dog park, my dog was trotting along quite happily when for no reason she pulled up lame. She limped over to me and held up her sore paw, with a look of utter confidence that I could make it better.
Well, I'm doing the same thing: limping over to my blog hoping someone out there knows how to make it better.
Ever now and every then, the ball of my foot starts to hurt. This has happened before, with different shoes, different trails. It even happened last year. (See? If I hadn't been blogging, I wouldn't have remembered. )
Sunday I was trotting along and wham suddenly the ball of the foot starts to hurt bad. I slowed to a walk, and after a few minutes the pain went away and I could jog again (slowly). Afterward, I did the ice and vitamin I. The foot felt swollen, but not painful.
Then, I was just walking along and again, ouch. And again, then the pain went away.
Now I'm sitting here and I can feel the foot is swollen, it's tender, but it doesn't actually hurt. Maybe I can run on it and it won't get mad at me. Maybe if I run on a trail rather than that mean nasty concrete? Maybe if I promise it ice and ibuprofen and a lolipop it'll be okay? Maybe...
Is this something that can be cured with magical stretching exercises? I mean, it keeps coming back regardless of the shoes I'm wearing, so it must be something I'm doing wrong.
Argh.
Exercise du jour: 2 miles jogging. Maybe.
Fail. The foot doesn't hurt, but despite all the I & I, the swelling isn't going away. I'll try again Wednesday. Wednesday: Fail. Foot actually hurts if I don't pamper it. Just my luck, a foot that thinks it's a primadonna. Thursday: Done! Finally. Ran on woodchip trail and the fancy what's-it stuff that Nike uses on its track -- some kind of rubber from the soles of shoes. When the damn foot hurt, I walked. When it didn't, I jogged slowly. At the time, I thought there was a lot of walking, but looking back it wasn't all that bad a pace. Now off to reward myself with a glass of red wine and an ice pack. (I figure it's good to apply pain killers internally as well as externally. Be thorough, that's my motto.)
Not really done, but I'm putting the star up for jogging 1 mile, walking 3.
