In my quest to not go crazy while not running, I decided to start practicing yoga. Not regular yoga, but Bikram yoga. It's 105 degrees and for 90 minutes you put your body in 26 compromising positions. Sweat pours from your skin like water. Your heart thuds into your ears and you may get lighted-headed. Are you sold yet? But wait! There's more! I actually really liked it. I am going back tomorrow, and Wednesday.
The point was not to go crazy, but a few months ago I would have thought that even trying Bikram was crazy. But, running made me look deep into myself. Not being able to run made me question everything that I thought I knew about myself. Yes, I love to run. Yes, it frees me. But it has also opened my eyes to all the other things that are left to be done. Without running being my go to for stress relief I can try new things. I can try yoga. I could swim. I could read and try new recipes. I could start a blog.
So, it starts with Bikram. I was supposed to go on Saturday. I chickened out. I made excuses...I have nothing to wear, I won't feel up to dinner later, I need to drink more water first...well, you get the idea. So, Sunday, Mother's Day, rolls around and now what? I drank water all day the day before. I bought a yoga "outfit". I was still petrified. What if I couldn't do it? What if I looked fat and ridiculous? Would the others judge me? So, I waited until the last class of the day, and I got in my car and drove to the studio. In I went and then, I was at yoga! I made it through all 90 minutes. Now, I have to admit the first 20 minutes or so, I judged myself. I judged my thighs and my tummy. I judged my posture (not postures, just posture!). I compared myself to the other ladies around me on their mats. But, they weren't looking at me. They were looking in the mirror, or on the spot on the ceiling during their posture. So, I followed suit. I concentrated on the movements and my breathing. On my image, yes, but now because I wanted to see what it looked like to be in the posture. I forgot the heat, the other women, my fear. I was looking inside of myself. I was looking at the internal determination that made it possible for me to run mile after mile when I was tired. The determination that made me put on those shoes and hit the pavement again and again.
Bikram is intense. It isn't running; only running is running. But it accomplished what it set out to be, which is another way to allow me concentrate on making myself whole. It helps me find myself, to lose myself and find myself again. It is 90 minutes of just being. It's no nine minute mile, but for now, it'll have to do.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
Like a Bird
It's funny that I would decide to start a blog about running while I cannot run. Consider this my running blog about not running. But, I have the heart and soul of a runner. Like a bird with a broken wing, I am injured but longing to fly. I drive now on the roads where I ran (and will run again!) and realize that I just don't think anymore. Well, obviously, I think, but I don't resolve anything. I don't have ideas, or those Eureka! moments. I just trudge along and hope I make it through.
I guess I should give you some background. When I was in my twenties I went on a health kick. I quit smoking, starting running, ate well. Boy it felt good! But through tumultuous life I lost that drive. One day about 10 months ago I opened my eyes and remembered how good, how whole, I felt when my feet pounded the pavement. So, I started my running journey anew. I ran alone at about a 12 minute mile. I ran some more. Further, longer and faster. I ran with my dog. Short runs, fast runs, hills. I ran with some friends. I signed up for some races. A 5k, a 10k, another 5k. I joined a training group of complete strangers. I was so scared! Was I fast enough? Could I run with them and not get left behind and lost? Would they laugh at my gait and huffing and puffing? I researched training...fartleks, tempo runs, and stride. I was successful in the group and made friends. I still mostly ran alone. I can run an 8 minute mile. But my good runs, my "long" runs, averaged about a nine minute mile and I was happy there. It felt good and true.
Then, it happened during a 5k I was totally ready for. I fractured my pelvis. I didn't know it at the time. I had been racing for about 5 minutes and feeling good. All of a sudden BAM! This stabbing pressure in my...crotch? Is that right? My what hurts? Yes, it did and I couldn't understand it. I couldn't make sense of the pain coming from there. I was thinking, "It's never hurt there before." I tried to shake it off and forget it. I managed to finish the race in just under 28 minutes. But, instead of elation I felt fear. What is this? I told my friend what I was feeling and pointed, "Here!" Aaaah, your groin! My groin, yes, I pulled my groin.
Fast forward through a doctor visit where he confirmed a groin pull and prescribed physical therapy. He suggested a pelvic fracture, but didn't think so. Fast forward through physical therapy where they misdiagnosed a thousand things that probably caused my pulled groin. Fast forward through another doctor's appointment, an x ray, and an MRI. Fast forward through finding the fracture, a visit to an orthopedist to confirm. Now pause on me being told to rest. And continue to pause, and pause. I have been on pause for over a month.
So, now what? So now I figure out how to heal. I figure out how to not go crazy or get fat. I start a blog where I can type my thoughts out instead of run them out. I get to prove to you, reader, and to myself, that I can overcome this. That I can become a stronger and smarter runner. I may have to start back at a 12 minute mile. I will put one foot in front of the other again and again. I will push through the fear. I will rest when my body asks me to. I will run again. I will get to that happy place, my nine minute mile.
Until next time...
I guess I should give you some background. When I was in my twenties I went on a health kick. I quit smoking, starting running, ate well. Boy it felt good! But through tumultuous life I lost that drive. One day about 10 months ago I opened my eyes and remembered how good, how whole, I felt when my feet pounded the pavement. So, I started my running journey anew. I ran alone at about a 12 minute mile. I ran some more. Further, longer and faster. I ran with my dog. Short runs, fast runs, hills. I ran with some friends. I signed up for some races. A 5k, a 10k, another 5k. I joined a training group of complete strangers. I was so scared! Was I fast enough? Could I run with them and not get left behind and lost? Would they laugh at my gait and huffing and puffing? I researched training...fartleks, tempo runs, and stride. I was successful in the group and made friends. I still mostly ran alone. I can run an 8 minute mile. But my good runs, my "long" runs, averaged about a nine minute mile and I was happy there. It felt good and true.
Then, it happened during a 5k I was totally ready for. I fractured my pelvis. I didn't know it at the time. I had been racing for about 5 minutes and feeling good. All of a sudden BAM! This stabbing pressure in my...crotch? Is that right? My what hurts? Yes, it did and I couldn't understand it. I couldn't make sense of the pain coming from there. I was thinking, "It's never hurt there before." I tried to shake it off and forget it. I managed to finish the race in just under 28 minutes. But, instead of elation I felt fear. What is this? I told my friend what I was feeling and pointed, "Here!" Aaaah, your groin! My groin, yes, I pulled my groin.
Fast forward through a doctor visit where he confirmed a groin pull and prescribed physical therapy. He suggested a pelvic fracture, but didn't think so. Fast forward through physical therapy where they misdiagnosed a thousand things that probably caused my pulled groin. Fast forward through another doctor's appointment, an x ray, and an MRI. Fast forward through finding the fracture, a visit to an orthopedist to confirm. Now pause on me being told to rest. And continue to pause, and pause. I have been on pause for over a month.
So, now what? So now I figure out how to heal. I figure out how to not go crazy or get fat. I start a blog where I can type my thoughts out instead of run them out. I get to prove to you, reader, and to myself, that I can overcome this. That I can become a stronger and smarter runner. I may have to start back at a 12 minute mile. I will put one foot in front of the other again and again. I will push through the fear. I will rest when my body asks me to. I will run again. I will get to that happy place, my nine minute mile.
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