If anyone knows where I can buy some damn patience, would you please let me know? Like, right now?
So the PT who made my orthotics (I keep almost saying prosthetics) warned me not to run on them right away. So I didn’t. I waited a whole day. I wore them to work Tuesday night to break them in. I figure it’s always a wise idea to break in new shoe products by sitting in them. Yep.
Then yesterday I slapped them in my new running shoes and went to the lake. I ran. I hurt. A lot. So I ran some more, like a dumb-ass. I ran until I got blisters on both insteps and until my shins were burning like my toast did this morning. I don’t know what I was thinking, really I don’t. I think I may have been hoping for a miracle, for the moment that I shifted into Orthotic Cure Land, where the inserts suddenly aligned my body and I ran like the wind. (Typo: run like the wine. That’s good, too.) Welp, I never got to that promised land, I only got seriously out of sorts.
The problem with the lake is that it’s round(ish). Funny thing, that. Usually I enjoy that geometrical aspect. I like that I can run three miles without running 1.5, turning around, and re-doing the same 1.5. You know how I feel about frogging. I hate to re-do. So the lake is perfect for me. Usually. Yesterday, I got to the far side, and I hurt too much to keep running. So I had to walk. My car was sooo far away and I felt like I was six years old and I had fallen on the blacktop with no adults around. I was so discouraged I felt like crying. And I was so MAD at myself.
I hate being angry. Especially at myself. I had had very little sleep after waking early in the afternoon and lying there, that list of Things That Must Be Done spinning in my head. Do you ever get up in order to shut that noise off and then once you’re up you realize that nothing was really that pressing? You could have stayed in bed that extra necessary hour or two?
So when I got home from the (non)run I iced my legs, drank some water, and got into bed again. I stayed there for the next two hours. I didn’t sleep, because I’m very bad at sleeping, as has been established, but I felt better when I got up. I ate a tuna sandwich and had some coffee, and all was right with the world again. They’re just shin splints. They’re just blisters. Ain’t no thang. Have you SEEN the Olympian runners? Their spinning legs make me ashamed to complain.
Little Mama, I know you’ll call me because of this post, but I swear I’ll take it easy. Pool running for me for a little while. Sigh. I hate pool running.
But I love running. Really. On a good day, I totally adore the feeling. At least I haven’t forgotten that. And apparently I haven’t forgotten how to make a kick-ass tuna sandwich (garnished with cherry tomatoes from the garden). That’ll get a girl through.
Rachael, you wonderful thing, you, this is a keeper:
I felt like I was six years old and I had fallen on the blacktop with no adults around.
What an absolutely *perfect* description of a feeling we all know so well.
It bothers me that you’re loving running. It bothers me because I agree with your taste in knitting, in yarn, in patterns, in friends (Hi, Maggi!), and in writing. So maybe I’d like running, too?
No. I refuse to think about it.
Ahem… Could you please take just a wee bit better care of my friend Rachael? Please? The pups and I care about her a whole lot and really don’t like it when you’re so rough with her.
If you do find a place to purchase patience, could you let me know? I’d like some of my own.
What Cari said. I admire you so, so much for keeping with the running and all, BUT.
So next time, you won’t hurt. And you *will* run like the wine. (hee)
What kills me is that you can’t nap. There’s nothing better than waking up early to do The Things That Must Be Done and realizing afterward that yes, you could’ve slept an extra hour or two, so you do. Hmm. OK–I’ve got the napping thing down, you’ve got the running thing down. That’s how people will tell us apart.
Patience, patience, let me see here…nope. Have no earthly idea. BUT (it almost got another T, hee) did I not warn you? Did I not say, RACHAEL, those orthotic thingies, they take practice…..sigh
Did you listen? Of Course NOT…you did exactly what I would have done….yeah, yeah, practice…
LA LA LA, I think I’ll run twelve miles….LA LA LA, pass the ice cream, I’m not listening….LA LA OWIE,OWIE….sigh.
Been there. Done that. Have the freakin tee shirt.
Wanna borrow it?
It’s PURPLE.
It says….I KNIT, therefore, I AM.
Ouch is right.
I think you may have bought yourself some patience today – I think pain may be the omong the only currencies you can buy patience with.
Now I’m hungry for a tuna sandwich. Yum…
what Melissa said in spades…heh. my view of lessons in patience is, ok. got the lesson now could we please get on with it? nah. doesn’t work for me, either. one thing that worked when I had terrible shinsplints in high school (smack me if you’ve already tried this) is NO running on a hard surface. Sorry little grassies, but Rachael needs to run off the paved path…and may I remind you that you run 12 FRIGGIN’ MILES, GIRLFRIEND???!!! humph…let’s not lose perspective…hugs..
If patience could be bought, I’d be the poorest woman you know. I wear orthotics because of heel spurs. They take a while to start working. Trust me on this one. But it will get better. Promise.
Bagheera and I are proud of you for sticking with it, but geesh girl, take it easy! (Bagheera sends purrs, I send hugs and ice packs)
Patience is my middle name. OK, Here’s what I have to say about orthotics: Your PT was right. Walk , DON’T RUN in them for several days. Walk, in short spurts, until you feel comfortable. Then run. Now, I don’t run. But I’ve used orthotics for almost three years and it took a while to get used to the W-A-L-K-I-N-G. I just wore them around during my normal course of the day for several days. Now, if I don’t use ’em, my calves complain and need serious stretching. I walk three miles in the morning. But I didn’t wear them on my morning walk until my feet and legs got used to them. Maybe you could walk around the lake, but not for a few days.
And, believe me, sox seriously make a difference. At See Jane Run, on College Ave. they sell a brand of sox called De Feet. Try a pair. Those sox helped me when I walked the Breast Cancer Three Day two years ago. WITH NO BLISTERS, I might add. I had the prettiest feet at the Three Day. You have to get the sock/shoe combo right or you’ll always have blisters.
And Holy Jeez, Rachael, take it easy on yourself. You need to BREATHE and realize you’re a human being for criminy sake. There is no silver bullet. It’s all the little things you do (and you do them so well). Take calcium, sleep, give yourself a break. It’s months ’til the marathon. B-R-E-A-T-H-E, baby, breathe.
Besides the whole running thing (I did run a mile the other morning… big deal for me!!) Your post is exactly how I feel today. If you find a supplier of patience, please, please let me know!! I’m in moving hell still!!
Also, same thing happened to me this morning, I woke up way too early but ran a list of “to-do” through my head until I had to get up. Funny thing is I didn’t do anything on my mental list, I knit with the time instead! Wise Choice!!
Good luck with the shins!! You really are my running inspiration!
Now there is just something so wrong about a person who likes running, wants to run, continues to run being stopped by blisters, shin splints, etc. Where’s the justice in that? Take care of yourself, please. How about a running coach who would barter his/her time for a really cool knitted sweater?
Your perseverance, determination and desire to run are amazing. It’s so great that you enjoy it, too, even with the pain. I hope you take the time needed with the orthotics so that you can enjoy it without reservation. Take deep breaths, try to relax, and good luck!!
Rachel,
With you wonderful attitude, you’ll eventually get the upper hand on running! Your story of the lake reminded me of when I sprained my ankle last fall. I had run half of Greenlake (about 1.5 miles) and was doing sprints at the track with my running group when I fell scraping up my knee and spraining my ankle. Of course, in my utter stupidity, I limped back to my car trying not to cry and drove home. Motty yelled at me and came over to tend to my ankle when I called her. Now that put me out of contention for a bit! Keep up your great attitude and all will go well!
Hang in there. You’re TRAINING. There will be ups and downs and days where you do something you shouldn’t to push yourself. I admire your dedication. GO Rachael GO!
Here’s advice from someone who does run – to the liquor store if I’m out of something.
Drink a gin and tonic. Perhaps 2. I promise you’ll feel like a champ. Especially if it’s Bombay Sapphire.
Okay, this time it’s serious. Go, now, and buy a new handbag! You’re way past home furnishings therapy. Go!
Oh my. I can’t even comprehend what you are doing, seriously. I have no stamina to push myself like that. So, you are (obviously) a rock star.
And yum, tuna salad with garden tomatoes. I’m drooling.
Take care of yourself!
Working through the physical pitfalls of marathon training can certainly try anyone’s patience. But you are doing great! When I did my training last year, my family & friends made me take my cell phone on every outing due to an alarming tendency to twist my ankle. And I was walking! But I completed my marathon and I’m looking forward to reading your post when you complete yours.