Baby steps

So, I still haven't gone for a run since I messed myself up almost 2 weeks ago..

..though I'm still getting out on the trails a bit.

See, when I did the stupid 25k run a few hours after my back went pop, I didn't really realise what the problem was...or that it was a much more severe version of something that's been plaguing me for more than a year. All I knew was that it seemed to be mostly ok while running, so I ran.

I'd planned to take some down time after that "race" anyway, and did so - I'm terrible at just lazing around, though, so I went for a few gentle walks with Tank on Sunday, and did some pull-ups n my rock rings in the livingroom. I did shy away from doing offset hanging knee raises, as my back was still quite tender.

Come Monday I was back at the office, and with the power of the internet constantly in front of me, I started doing a bit of searching to see if I could figure out what I'd done to myself.

Paging Dr. Google...paging Dr. Google..

Within a half-hour I'd stumbled on something that not only seemed to fit the symptoms I'd had since Saturday, but also the persistent, burning pain and cramping I'd had in my left glutes, hamstrings, and hip since somewhere around March of 2019.

Spondylolisthesis. 

Basically: I broke a bit off a vertebra, and now it can slip out of place.

So the pressure of the displaced vertebra on my nerves explains the wandering, on-again-off-again pain in my left hip, butt, and leg, plus the lack of flexibility I've been dealing with. I used to be able to fold in half and put my palms flat on the floor; for the past year I've been unable to reach past mid-shin without bending my knees. The worst part is sitting in the car; I'd started to suspect over the last couple of months that it might be something spinal, since I could ease the burning pain in my left glutes and hamstrings by dropping my seat back and laying closer to flat. This rather confirmed it.

For some reason I felt like a spinal injury should probably not be ignored.

Unable to see my awesome RMT, chiropractor, physiotherapist, or osteopath due to the pandemic closing all their practices, I started scouring used sites for something that my RMT had suggested when I texted her about how I'd managed to hurt myself this time. I'm rather embarrassed to say how often those conversations happen..

In any case, I managed to find what I was looking for (at a price I could mostly afford) for sale in Brantford, where Tank and I picked it up on Saturday.

And it sort of stows out of the way..

I got quite a bit of relief from my first use, and have been on it daily since.

Though I can't say it's the most comfortable thing in the world; it's not nearly as nice as the one my RMT has.

The relief from the inversion table hasn't been as marked since that first day, but the back pain hasn't been as bad overall, either. I'm told that this is pretty much as expected for my issue. My reading on the subject also suggests that there's no real treatment for what's wrong with me, apart from rest and strengthening my (already regularly-worked) core musculature to support the slippage. It seems if things get really horrible then spinal fusion is the final resort, but since it has a very poor historical record of proving any relief to patients, that's not a road I really want to contemplate.

So I'm in a bit of a weird place right now. My back has been improving, and I now know that I ran 100km reasonably well last year with it at least partially messed up. That ought to be comforting, but I know I've made it much worse now, and being over forty I'm not sure how well I'll be able to bounce back from this. 

And while I'm enjoying going for more walks with Tanker, I'd really like to be able to run trails again.

I've been trying to take care of myself as best I can - limiting myself to walking on my lunch instead of running, and modifying the strength work I do 5-ish times per week to include more yoga and less stress-inducing bending of my spine. I'm now to the point I can function pain free basically all day, though every now and then I'll move wrong and the pain will flare.

Yes, I've even been doing yoga.

While I know this isn't something with which I should trifle, patience is not my forte, and a nagging part of my brain keeps telling me that I managed to run 25k within hours of the acute injury, so why not go for a run anyway?

I keep trying to shut it up, but on Wednesday, when I found myself out for a lunch walk on a beautiful day (after the stupid mid-May snow finally blew away), wearing running shoes..

Oops.

I ran across an intersection. It was hard to stop my legs when I got to the other side, but I did so. Then I ran another road crossing, and then another. I finished by running along the side of my office building, with a bit of a walk to "cool down" after.

The longest "interval" was about 100 steps.

Then, I waited to see the fallout. My back didn't seem to protest, though; it's still not perfect, but it didn't really seem to get worse.

I haven't tried again yet. The weather was better than expected when I got home from work yesterday, but I went for a walk with Tanker instead. Today is not only my usual day off (though that really just means I didn't do a strength workout this morning before heading to the office), but it's hosing rain out there. Tomorrow is supposed to be the nicest day of the year so far, though, so I may just try pushing my luck a little..

A tiptoe through the trilliums would be lovely!

With trails beginning to re-open throughout the province, I can only hope the worst of this is behind me now. At least I finally know what the problem is, so I'm better equipped to come up with some management strategies. I can't give up hope of getting back to long days of rambling happily through the woods, but I'll try to take it slow and allow myself some time to heal.

Baby steps, right?

Joy and coffee

I usually take Fridays off running.

Usually.

It's been a heckin' week, what with not knowing for the first two days whether or not I was still employed - the stress and fatigue from putting in long hours (even for me) working through all the Record of Employment requests I had from clients. I did my best to get them out the same day, because that was the only thing I could do to help all of the people for whom I was preparing them; I felt awful that they were losing their jobs, and wanted to try to get them support as quickly as possible.

It has not been smooth sailing this week.

I was too exhausted and stressed on Tuesday - when I didn't really get a lunch break, though I did manage to get in a bit of a walk - so no run happened. It would have to have been after work, and I just didn't have it in me anymore.

Sometimes you just gotta take a day.

Lunch runs happened the rest of the week, but I actually managed to get clearance to work from home - I'm apparently essential - for today.

Hallelujah

It was a long day. One just filled with problems. I did my best to solve them, and watched the sunshine break through the kitchen windows after chasing the cloud cover away.

I got to see our few crocuses - one of which is past its best - open for once!

It hit 10c (50f) with just the lightest breeze. To heck with "day off" - I was out the door moments after the end of my theoretical workday, which had started half an hour earlier than usual and had been without a lunch break. 

It's all road to get there and back, but there's about 100m of trail up in the high rent district.

I've run for so many reasons over the years. I've done it just as training for races (which are all cancelled for the foreseeable future), for challenges, for transportation, for health & fitness, and just because it's the only thing that ensures my trousers will still fit.

Today, I ran for joy.

The sunshine was glorious. I won't say I was floating - a lovely spring day doesn't improve the conditions of my legs at all, and they've been a bit tetchy lately - but I honestly didn't even mind the bit of soreness as I bopped up the road.

It's not trail, but a sidewalk will do.

A little less than 8km later it was back to my laptop and a pile of paperwork - grinding away long after the sun went down. I finally put it all away - not because I was done, but because I was getting to the point of doubting the quality of the work of which I was capable. I'm grateful for having that three quarters of an hour of sun-drenched happiness to carry me through.

These are tough times, and I hope you all get to do something that gives you joy. It doesn't have to be running, or even something active - I hope you read good books and create amazing things with fiber or flour; that you write and draw and paint things that may or may not be seen by anyone but yourself but that make you smile.

Waterfalls are definitely a source of happiness for me.

I hope you can find joy in small things and not let the stress wear you down. I wish you peace in your mind and hope in your heart, as spring begins to take hold around us. 

For those times you may need a little pick-me-up, I'm throwing in a totally random review of something I've just tried.

Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latté 

Instant coffee usually sucks. I've seldom had a cup that isn't terrible, which has led to us sporting along a lot of space and weight's worth of coffee brewing equipment when we've gone into the backcountry, and spending a bit of time getting a cup together. French press, moka pot, percolator - it's all wonderful coffee, but it's not particularly quick. 

Since I'm allergic to dairy (and even regular non-dairy creamer has sodium caseinate in it, which is derived from dairy protein and gives me vicious stomach cramps), even most latté mixes are off limits. 

When I saw this stuff, I figured I'd give it a shot. The preservatives aren't great, but there didn't appear to be anything that would mess with me. I found the package in the cupboard today (we bought a few months back in anticipation of camping trips to come), and ended up trying a cup at nearly 10pm this evening...because where the heck do I have to be tomorrow morning?

It's not what I'll call awesome coffee, but it has a nice creaminess to it from the coconut creamer - which gives it no coconut flavour, if you're leery of that - but it's drinkable. No gut rot, and just enough caffeine to keep me alive to write this post.

I'll let you decide whether or not that's actually a positive.

It's not cheap - we paid about $13 for a box of 5 sachets from MEC - but for a fast-and-light backcountry trip, or even just when I need a really quick shot of caffeine, I'd buy it again. It's still cheaper than a latté from a café, and infinitely more flexible. Heck, I may just stick one in the UltraCooler™ if I need a lift during a race; while they often have coffee at aid stations for long races, they seldom have dairy-free creamer, and I'm not a black coffee fan. These just need hot-ish water; they dissolve really well with a quick stir, and even give a wee bit of foam. Super simple, and I think simple is something we can all appreciate right now.

Wishing you joy, and good coffee.

Mastery

It was a somewhat significant week.

Cue dramatic photo

I started off worried, because my adorable little not-a-kitten-anymore Fionn (who turned 1 year old last week) managed to hurt his leg and has been on the limp since Sunday.

Though he did get to enjoy some sun and fresh air anyway,

I finally got to see a sports medicine doctor on Monday the 15th about that click in my foot at Sunburn Solstice. On the bright side, it doesn't seem to be a stress fracture - on the less bright side, I didn't really get any answers about what the click might have been. He had me rise up on my toes and walk around a bit, squeezed my foot in a couple of different ways, and was slightly dismayed at the difference between my two feet after the catastrophic injury last year. It seems the transverse/metatarsal arch on my left foot is collapsing, and it was suggested that I try an orthotic (which is not really a road I want to go down), or at least some metatarsal pads. I mentioned that I had seen a taping application for a midfoot injury, and the good doctor was very supportive of me trying it. Other than that, I was told to go see my favourite physiotherapist (for which I'm out of insurance coverage for the year) and not much else.

The taping application.

I ended up taking Monday off running, then was back at it with my taped-up foot on Tuesday.

When it rained sideways for the first 5mins, then the sun came back out to ensure it stayed unbearably hot and humid.

While the tape felt kind of nice - sort of like a hug for my foot - it didn't actually seem to do anything helpful. I stripped it off before I showered that evening, went to bed...and then woke up 40 years old.

I didn't really do anything to mark the day I became a Masters athlete, though to the surprise of probably no-one I did go for a run on my favourite Mississauga trails after work.

Water levels were a teensy bit high for creek yoga this week - you couldn't even see the rocks I usually stand on!

My birthday present from Mother Nature was the discovery of a massive bush absolutely dripping with perfect, ripe wild raspberries! Despite being right on a paved pathway behind a residential area just north of Burnhamthorpe, it seemed completely untouched - not even the squirrels or bunnies looked to have been nibbling.

I filled my hand bottle's pocket and still left loads of ripe berries behind!

Then, because my life is nothing if not full of annoying twists, I got myself trapped in a construction site.

Who could resist that gap in the fence?

Crap - ok, I guess I'll go back and cross the bridge to come out by the community centre..

CRAP

I ended up having to go back out the way I'd come, message Tanker to meet me in a different spot than we'd agreed on, climb a *bonus hill* up to Mississauga Valley Drive, and all told run an extra kilometer (and take almost an extra 45mins) on top of what I'd planned.

I did eventually make it to my mum's to visit and share my bounty of raspberries.

Not to mention the dairy-free Haagen-Dasz ice cream bars I picked up, as I ended up meeting Tank at a grocery store.

So apparently I haven't got any smarter with the conclusion of another trip 'round the sun - I may now be a Masters athlete, but I don't really feel like I've mastered anything. Nor do I feel any wiser, more settled, or in any way like I expected to as a 40 year old woman.

Hell - I even wore booty shorts for last night's still-hot-as-balls run.

On the bright side, I also don't feel as dull and stodgy as my middle aged status would suggest. I may be a bit more of a weenie about hurting myself than I was in my teens and twenties, but that's not to say I've lost my sense of adventure entirely.

I tried a new route through the singletrack trails on the way to the market on Saturday, which included some bushwhacking and doubling back.

..and I dangled my feet over a ledge high above the Grand River.

I may have a few more aches and pains than I did when I first began to run at age 29, but I've also seen and experienced so many more beautiful things along the way.

Like this bit of perfection in my own backyard.

I don't feel obliged to act my age - I'll keep on paddling my board and rocking a bikini if I damn well please.

My ink needs to breathe sometimes, y'know.

As hackneyed as it is to declare that "age is just a number", I figure the time to start acting like an adult will be when I actually feel like one. While I do have to take care of responsible things on occasion, I've not yet come to a point where the allure of calm predictability outweighs the temptations of chaotic, messy, and possibly risky diversions from the straight, narrow path of adult life.

I'm not over the hill, but I'm willing to hike up it.

So just like my little Fionn - who doesn't seem to realise he's not a kitten anymore - I'll keep chasing whatever seems like fun at the time, until it doesn't seem fun anymore.

And hopefully just like him, I'll bounce back from my latest injury.

Have a great weekend, folks!

Ragged

I'm not in great shape.

And this trail knows it.

Since Stride Inside, a number of factors have come together to beat me down.

First and foremost, Tanker went for surgery on Monday, January 7th. That was stressful for both of us, but was fortunately successful and he's in recovery. Unfortunately, the recovery will be rather long - he's off work for 4 weeks, then will be on light duties at the warehouse for another 4 weeks after that.

He has a long path ahead.

I was able to take the day of the surgery off to take care of him, but had to return to the office the next day - I do payroll for a couple of dozen companies, so this struck at my busiest time of the year as I scramble to complete year-end reconciliations for each company to ensure they will not end up owing anything (on which there would be penalties and interest). Since Tank was essentially bedridden for the first couple of days, this meant I would run up a thermos full of soup, a few bottles of water, and a cooler bag full of ice packs before leaving in the morning to try to tide him over until I could get home again.

He couldn't exactly make it out to a frozen waterfall to ice his swelling.

When I'd get home, on top of making a fresh, healthy dinner for us as always, I'd also have to do all the chores that I'm so grateful he usually takes care of: feeding the cats, washing the dishes (we don't own a dishwasher), cleaning out litter boxes, putting out the garbage and recycling, and all the laundry...and there's a LOT of laundry right now, since the weather has turned cold and I'm running 7-8 times per week in it.

These conditions call for a little more than shorts and a sports bra.

While Tanker has made progress and is literally back on his feet again, he's still barred from lifting anything heavier than a bottle of water - he now feeds our kitties before I get home, but I have to do at least some of the dishes as I cook with heavy cast iron pans, and the garbage, kitty litter and laundry are all tasks that require lifting. Because he hasn't yet been comfortable in the car, or standing or walking for extended periods, I also have to run errands like going to the farmers' market and grocery store by myself. Since he usually comes with me and helps quite a lot - we split up at the grocery store to get what we need more quickly, and he carries the bags at the market while I deal with cash so there isn't quite as much juggling required - it takes a lot more time and effort.

Like fighting my way upriver.

The biggest problem I'm having, though, is the addition of 12+ hours of driving each week, and the associated loss of my naps. Because our workplaces are very close together and our hours are similar, Tank usually does the 80-ish kilometer drive each way from our house to Mississauga and back Monday to Friday. I usually nap on the way in and way home, to supplement the handful of hours of sleep I get during the week. Instead of those naps, I now fight my way through rush hour traffic on the 401, operating on even less sleep (as it takes me more time to get everything done when I get home) and trashing my legs with the clutch-brake dance on the 401.

Fionn helping me make dinner

Despite not having to be in the GTA until 9am (as opposed to 8:30am, when Tank's shift starts), I haven't been able to sleep in as I usually eat breakfast in the car while he drives. Now I have to eat at home and take the few extra minutes to make a cup of something caffeinated to keep me alert before I go. Since winter has struck with a vengeance this week, I've had to get up earlier and earlier in order to make it to work on time; then, on top of having to brush snow or scrape ice off the car every morning this week, there's been a lane closure at Hwy 6N since Tuesday morning that has the highway down to a crawl. So, I get even less sleep in an attempt to make it to my office for 9.

When I do get here, I often find myself stuck - I usually have a coffee with Tanker on his 3pm break by taking my lunch at that time, but between my normal work, payroll year-end, and some other projects that have come out of nowhere, I've struggled to get away from my desk at all. I'm supposed to have an hour for lunch and leave work at 5pm: this week especially, I've been taking my lunch at more like 3:45pm and working until at least 6pm.

Though I have still been running on my lunch, and got to explore a path along this lovely little creek on Monday.

I didn't even make it to mu Mum's last week - we usually visit her every Wednesday evening to give her some company, help out with some chores, and put the garbage out as she had limited mobility. I did stop by this week, but only after putting in 2 hours of overtime. Once I'd finally managed to get the trash out (another thing that Tanker usually handles, bless him) and chatted for a bit, it was 10pm by the time I got home to start dinner.

Just to add to the stress of it all, while I was hanging laundry on Sunday evening our sweet girl Esme came into the room to use the litter box, and dropped a poop streaked with blood. I couldn't take her to work with me (nor could I take a day off), so I collected the stool, double bagged it, and brought it to the office (which it proceeded to stink up, in spite of my precautions) to drop at the vet's office Monday evening. This also saved us having to bring her in, as she has panic attacks in the car.

She seemed fine other than the nasty poop, but I was extremely worried.

The vet called Tuesday morning to say they'd found worm eggs in the sample, so of course now all 3 of our cats needed to be wormed. They asked if I could bring in the other 2 for a checkup as they hadn't been to see this particular vet, but I pled helplessness as Tanker is barely even allowed to pick up our 6 month old kitten, let alone help me get our old 20lb tomcat Karma into a carrier and into the car. The vet took pity on me, so agreed to dispense the worming medication based on the weight of the cats so I could pick it up Tuesday evening.

Have you ever tried to give a pill to a cat that doesn't want it? Fionn was just fine, and even Esme didn't put up much of a struggle, but my old buddy Karma was not having it. He stuck a claw under the cuticle at the base of my middle finger during the second attempt, drawing blood. He spat out the third attempt, and on the fourth he struck out with his paw and sunk a claw right to the hilt into my right ring finger, prying it with all of his considerable strength away from his face (as I tried to hold his mouth shut so he'd swallow the damn thing). I spurted blood, and he spat it out anyway before running away to hide under the bed.

It's probably not a great sign when you end up with blood pooling under the skin beside a deep laceration within seconds.

To make matters even better, after looking to the internet for help on how to get this worming medication into him - particularly as they'd all need a second dose a fortnight later - I was told that they're flavoured  tablets and "most cats and dogs will accept them as a treat". I grabbed the bag of treats Karma loves, laid down on the floor beside the bed, and offered him a treat. He gobbled that up, then I tried the tablet...which of course he ate without issue. I gave him another treat to make sure he'd swallow the pill, then got myself up off the floor. So delighted that I got mauled for no reason whatsoever.

He's still my big chunk of cuddly floof though.

As I had touched on previously, I'm still running on my lunch breaks - it's about the only thing that's keeping me even halfway sane, and I'm still doing what I can to creep up the ranks of the 100 runs in 100 days challenge by putting in doubles on weekends. I was actually hoping I might make top female this year, but I recently found out that the one woman ahead of me - with whom I was more or less keeping pace over Christmas and New Year's - either works from home or is a stay-at-home mom, and was being limited by her kids being home for 2 weeks over the holidays. Now she's putting in triple and even quadruple run days during the week, while I just slip further and further behind.

Oh, and did I mention she's in California? Definitely not dealing with the ice, snow and frigid temperatures we're getting here.

Though she also doesn't get to see sights like this sunset down the icy Speed River.

Any one - or even two together - of these things I could probably brush off, even when compounded by the everything-is-exhausting fatigue after the Stride Inside 6-hour. But honestly, coming all at once has run me absolutely ragged, and the worst part is that it's keeping me from being the person I strive to be. I want to be a patient, loving caregiver and wife to Tanker while he recovers. I want to keep a nice house for him while he's stuck in it, other than a short walk outside each day. I want to give our kitties the best possible life - one where they're all healthy, happy and thriving. I want to do my job well, and meet all of my deadlines. Finally, I want to train at a higher level so I can have a better season than I did last year, and take on some big challenges in 2019.

I feel like I'm failing at all of it. I'm so tired I had to pull off the road on the way home last night to take a 15min nap in my car because I literally could not keep my eyes open. The exhaustion and stress have driven me into survival mode, so I can't be the supportive wife and caregiver that Tank needs. I'm nowhere near as competent at the daily round of housekeeping chores as he is, so things get forgotten - I realised this morning I hadn't even checked the mail this week. I feel like a terrible pet owner for letting worms take hold of our Esme, especially since it's so likely that Fionn - an innocent little 6-month-old kitten - is infected as well. I was late to work twice this week, so despite all the late evenings I feel like a terrible employee. I'm barely hanging in the top 40 overall of the 100 runs in 100 days challenge, despite my best efforts to be consistent - even running the day after Stride Inside.

I've also been less kind than I should overall, and I feel awful about the way I've responded to this situation overall. I know you're probably laughing at my whinging right now, if you've even managed to read this far without giving up in disgust - so many people have it so much worse, and I'm crumbling under the pressure of far less than any single parent goes through for years on end. I'm ashamed of who I am as a person, and my lack of ability to cope with adversity.

Running has been my solace - if there's a silver lining, it's that running from my office (instead of Tank's warehouse, where I usually drop off the car on my lunch break) has allowed me to explore some new routes in Mississauga. In theory, I should also be happy that I will be able to do so with friends tomorrow at the Frosty Trail 3-hour. Unfortunately, it's difficult to look forward to running in this:

Mrph.

My number one goal will have to be to keep myself in sufficiently good condition that I'm still able to get everything done around the house this weekend - I can't be reduced to walking sideways down stairs if I have laundry baskets to carry. I'd like to try to wait an hour after the end of the 3-hour and then head out for a second run with the folks doing the 6-hour to make it a double, though I know it will be difficult to convince myself to do so in the biting cold and wind, and may have to forget about it if I'm feeling beat up; chores don't care if you had a race, they still need to be done.

Most of all, I need to try to practice more kindness - I may be having a bit of a tough go, but the people (and pets) around me deserve the best I can give them. So, I'll stagger on regardless, and try to be better.

Two weeks down - two more to go.