It's been a very long and very short month since I jacked up my back and had to skip my goal race. The recovery has been up and down; on individual days it's sometimes hard to detect improvement, but in big picture terms, I'm definitely getting better. My chiro didn't see the need to schedule another appointment after this week, and my PT doesn't want to see me for another two weeks. I'm gonna assume it's because I'm improving, and not because they find me endlessly annoying. Monday starts the official rebuilding process to make me better, stronger, faster, although not bionic. Emily said to me the week I canceled my trip/race plans that there must be some reason I wasn't supposed to do that race. At the time I didn't want to hear that, and let her know quite clearly/crudely (sorry 'bout that, Emily!), but now, it seems perhaps there is a greater plan than I can conceive of.
Rogue is conducting a pilot training program based on heart rate. It's targeted at runners who are prone to overtraining and have been stuck in performance plateaus or have had chronic injuries as a result. They received more than 80 applications for 15 spots in the training group. For all the disappointment of missing my marathon, that and my other chronic injuries seem to have put me unequivocally in the "yes" pile. Not necessarily something to be proud of, but it's a fantastic opportunity. My back has recovered enough that I can do sustained running for 30+ minutes, but if this morning's run is any indication, this is going to feel like starting from ground zero, yet again. That might be a good thing since I'll be learning a whole new way of training.
I spent some time this morning getting to know my heart rate monitor. It said my VO2 max is 43, which is off the chart for my age. It was "heartening" considering how much my level of activity has dropped in the last month. I'll find out my true VO2 max this week in a lab test (treadmill, heart rate monitor, face mask oxygen measurement, fun!). I won't be terribly surprised to learn that I've been doing my "comfortably easy" runs at a higher heart rate than I should, which ultimately compromises my recovery and ability to improve. I come by my tendency to overdo/overtrain honestly, but I'm learning there's a more effective way to train, and, if I want to continue to train, race, and improve, I can't afford not to give this my best shot.
Giving this my best shot means making some fundamental changes in other areas of my life. While I improved my rest and nutrition during my last training phase, I can do better. In an effort to keep myself honest, here's the rebuilding plan for the foundation - the things that will make my runs and training more enjoyable and more effective:
Rest - no more operating from a small, but consistent sleep deficit. I can function on 6-7 hours of sleep, but that adds stress to my system and over time, hinders my performance. Goal: 7-8 hours of sleep, consistently
Nutrition - this one calls for a bulleted list:
- do a two week carb sensitivity test
- eliminate foods that create cravings or decrease feelings of well-being and ability to perform (sugar, gluten, most dairy, caffeine, and alcohol immediately come to mind, others to be determined from sensitivity test)
- keep a food log - this will help with the carb sensitivity test, and help me stick with my plan
Strength - at least two strength workouts/week. A combination of Rogue Core workouts, Schrupercises, or time in the fitness center at work, primarily leg & core strength
Cross Training - swim or bike at least once a week, 40-45 minutes each
Flexibility - practice yoga twice a week, maintain PT exercises for my back
Recovery - monthly massage, post-run stretching, trigger point, and ice baths (as needed)
I'll track all of this, but probably not publicly. Some of these things, specifically the rest and nutrition aspects, will contribute to improving my overall well-being and making my life more enjoyable and effective. I'm clear on the fact that it's a privilege for me to be able to run and train and compete in events. I'm fortunate and grateful to have the physical health and resources to be able to do these things. I deserve to take the best possible care of myself, but I haven't been doing so. I have a genetic predisposition to high cholesterol, and have often said I would make drastic changes to my diet, if it were necessary for medical reasons. So far, my athletic pursuits have been enough to keep my ratio healthy. But running has evolved into something more than getting across a finish line or staying fit. I want to see how far I can go and how fast. That begs a deeper level of commitment and dedication than I've previously given to my athletic performance. This is a record of that commitment.
I feel like this rebuilding process needs a catchy name.
Sunday's See Jane Run Austin half-marathon was canceled because of the severity of thunderstorms race morning. I wasn't running (obviously, from my last post) but had planned to cheer on a few friends who were running. I was quite happy to stay inside and listen to the early morning rain instead. It brought back memories of the '07 Cap Tex Tri - the only other event I've missed - that was canceled because of storms race morning. I felt bad for all the people who were planning to race. It's incredibly disappointing to have worked for something for months, then not have the opportunity to go out and execute. I remembered how pissed off and sad we were to miss the '07 tri.
Some interesting things happened as a result of that race cancellation. I had trained for months with Team in Training, getting to know a few people, but dealing with the disappointment of missing the race was the glue that really bonded us as a team. When the sun came up and the weather broke that morning, someone had the brilliant idea for us to run an impromptu 5K along the race course. Puddle jumping, whooping & hollering, and letting out some of the race energy we'd built up. Our coaches and mentors cheered us on, and we cheered each other through the finishing chute, by this time the only athletes still around. The race photographer took a group photo of us. We met up for happy hour later that week, where we acknowledged how far we'd come as a team and what we'd accomplished in the fight against cancer, regardless of race day events. We also received the only finisher medals given out for the race. Somehow, TnT staff and our coach managed to get them for us. TnT also secured entries for another race for us.
At the happy hour, talk inevitably turned to "what might have been" and "what next." Linking the anger, sadness, and disappointment was an undercurrent of dissatisfaction that I can best characterize as hunger. A hunger to perform what we'd practiced for so many months on the race stage, for closure on the training season, and to see how much farther training could take me. That happy hour was where the Half-Ironman distance first became a twinkle in my eye, and many of us informally committed to '08 Wildflower that night.
Cap Tex Tri '07 would have been my first Olympic distance race. For the Disco Tri in Dallas, the make-up race, record rains canceled the swim, so it became a duathlon (to my delight). I finally got my Olympic Tri at the inaugural Austin Tri in September. I think I ended up doing more races in '07-'08 than the previous six years combined, all on the heels of a race cancellation that somehow cemented my commitment to working toward training & racing goals. 2007 was the first year I participated in organized training, which really brought my inner athlete out of the closet. I learned that I thrive as an athlete when I work with a good coach. As someone who had a long pattern of putting the needs of others before my own, trying to do everything on my own, and keeping my athletic abilities on the back burner, seeking out good coaching was one of the best gifts I could give myself. Now, I've not only checked running a marathon off my bucket list but I'm in the process of finding out how fast I can run one. Ironman is no longer one of those races only crazy people do. Well, let's face it, that definition still applies, nonetheless, it's been added to the bucket list.
My lessons from that canceled race:
- Have your feelings, preferably with people you've trained with or who "get it"
- Acknowledge your progress and accomplishments of the season
- Sign up for another race ASAP
- Use the hunger to extend your goals
- You never know how a difficult experience will impact you over the course of time
