It has come to my attention (in that it's been nagging in the back of my mind for a while now) that to some, my training methods may appear inscrutable, and my blog posts an impenetrable, irrelevant word fog. To kill two proverbial birds with one stone, this post will clear up why this is what it is.
First, my training methods: Going into 2011, I was suffering from a stress fracture in my left foot (second metatarsal, a pretty common injury). Being determined to come back strong from this injury, and to seek redemption for a number of my efforts that fell short in 2010, I started with a commitment of running at least 1 mile every day for 2011. As it turned out, this was just the commitment that I needed to gradually rebuild my strength. Now, three months later, I've methodicallyl built up to running 90-100 miles per week, with no sign of burnout or serious injury (knock on wood). I don't come into each week with a specific plan for each day, but I do have a general outline of what I want to accomplish, built primarily in anticipation of, and in response to, my longer/harder weekend efforts. I shoot for one fast speed/tempo session, one slower, more grueling speed/tempo/hill session, and one long run, and fill in the rest with "garbage miles." Except not really, because, especially lately, I've been running each "garbage mile" session with purpose. I focus on improving an aspect of my form, or my breathing, or I take my run through interesting/challenging sections of terrain. In that way, not only do I get the slow-and-steady accumulation of aerobic benefits, but also the more rapid, satisfying improvements that come from increased technical capability.
Which leads me into my next thought, which is why my blog is what it is, and is written the way it is. As part of my 2011 resolution to run at least a mile every day, I also resolved (less specifically) to write more about my running. In the past, I kept wide-ruled marble notebooks, with 3 or 4 lines dutifully devoted each day to a brief description of my running (or lack thereof) for the day. I covered the traditional time/distance/weather/mood stuff that they tell you to cover, and all in all, this method wasn't bad. It gave me a benchmark for my next training cycle, and reminded me of particularly fun or amusing things that happened during my runs. However, I eventually grew apart from this practice, and, looking back, I believe that it was subconsciously because although the logs were fully satisfying the latter intent, they had hit a wall with respect to the former. That is, I could see how well (or poorly) I did on a recent workout by comparing to results from similar workouts in the past, but I couldn't see WHY I was doing well or poorly.
With that in mind, this blog contains significantly more detail about WHY (at least, in my estimation) my performances turned out the way they did, because, along the lines of high mileage, for me, explicit, extensive repetition is the way that I learn best. Some people are much better at absorbing and internalizing through thoughts and feelings, which need not be stated. Not me. I need specific, detailed analysis of what works and what doesn't. In other words, some people need only to feel the wall to push through it; I need to know what color the bricks are, what kind of mortar was used, how long the mortar has been allowed to set . . .
I suspect that there may be others like me out there, and if so, I hope that things I've written here are instructive to you. If you're not one of those people, I hope all of this doesn't bore you terribly . . . but then again, nobody's forcing you to read it . . .
Showing posts with label stress fracture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress fracture. Show all posts
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
My Ironic Stress Fracture
One might think, with the pressure of a fall packed with 8 credits of part-time class, a full-time job, four ultramarathon attempts, and, just for kicks, the Army Ten-Miler, I would have cracked by now. And to some extent, I already have (note the word "attempts" after "ultramarathon" in the previous sentence). But ironically enough, it wasn't all of this that did me in. It wasn't even an epically packed last week of classes, in which, between December 1st and December 7th, I had due 1 individual homework assignment, 1 term paper, 1 group project, 2 team papers, 2 take-home finals, and 2 group presentations, on top of 3 briefings for work (which I'm pretty sure is a PR in terms of significant deliverables produced in a 7-day period, although I don't usually keep track of such things).
No, I went ahead and tweaked my running form. This tweaking fixed the minor issues I've had with my knees off and on ever since I started running, and resulted in leaps-and-bounds improvements in speed and efficiency (in short, things that, over the past few weeks, have made running more joyful and less stressful than ever before) . . . and a stress fracture in my left foot, second metatarsal.
To be fair, this is self-diagnosed, but I've had two other stress fractures in my running career, which is enough to know what one feels like. If you're wondering if it's a stress fracture, here are some tell-tale signs that could save you weeks or months of frustration and hundreds of dollars in medical bills, which result in a prescription of "rest":
1. Sharp, severe pain that floats around the injured point during motion, especially when the fracture is fresh, but eventually settles at the point of injury.
2. Vague swelling and bruising in the injured area (vague enough that the only way to conclude that there might be swelling or bruising is to compare the injured area to the same area on the other side of your body)
3. Feels like an internal "itch" near the point of injury when you're just sitting around.
4. Pressing a finger on the point of injury is slightly (but not dramatically) more painful than pressing a finger near the point of injury.
5. Pain increases dramatically under pressure during the motion of the physical activity that caused it.
6. Pain increasingly occurs during ordinary motion (e.g. walking around, climbing stairs), not just exercise.
In any event, this is a disappointing development, as it puts my entire spring in limbo. I'm already signed up for the Boston Marathon, so I've decided that that's happening, no matter what. Given that, depending on how quickly I heal, I could be running again in a month (mid-to-late January), in which case I may be able to be a little bit more ambitious post-Boston. If things don't go so well, I might not be running until late February, which throws a huge monkey wrench into late spring/early summer. And of course, a lot of major races want commitments right now, so it's unlikely that I'll be racing anything (other than Boston, and hopefully the National Marathon, for the sake of keeping that streak alive) that's "major" until mid-to-late summer.
This also comes at an awkward time, as I suddenly have more free time, due to my MBA classes being done forever, and work being generally slow around the holidays. So, my plan to use additional free time for more running is shot.
On the upside, this forces me onto the bike, and into the pool, so perhaps if I can improve my swimming past the point of "just barely not drowning," I could throw my first triathlon into the mix at some point (probably something short, since the longer ones are more expensive and probably full at this point anyway). There's also the possibility that there could be other things in life besides work and running (or so I hear), so there's that to explore . . .
And looking long-term, perhaps being injured now will put me a few months behind the late-season burn-out curve that everybody else who is at least moderately competitive seems to ride, so that in the fall, when everybody else is tired from racing in the spring and summer, I'll be relatively fresh, and ready to perform well at a major event.
In summary (because for some reason, I feel like this needs a summary), a wise man, whose name may or may not actually be Andrew W.K., once belted out in a song, "Just because this life ain't easy doesn't make it bad." Not bad at all, Mr. W.K. Just interesting and ironic.
No, I went ahead and tweaked my running form. This tweaking fixed the minor issues I've had with my knees off and on ever since I started running, and resulted in leaps-and-bounds improvements in speed and efficiency (in short, things that, over the past few weeks, have made running more joyful and less stressful than ever before) . . . and a stress fracture in my left foot, second metatarsal.
To be fair, this is self-diagnosed, but I've had two other stress fractures in my running career, which is enough to know what one feels like. If you're wondering if it's a stress fracture, here are some tell-tale signs that could save you weeks or months of frustration and hundreds of dollars in medical bills, which result in a prescription of "rest":
1. Sharp, severe pain that floats around the injured point during motion, especially when the fracture is fresh, but eventually settles at the point of injury.
2. Vague swelling and bruising in the injured area (vague enough that the only way to conclude that there might be swelling or bruising is to compare the injured area to the same area on the other side of your body)
3. Feels like an internal "itch" near the point of injury when you're just sitting around.
4. Pressing a finger on the point of injury is slightly (but not dramatically) more painful than pressing a finger near the point of injury.
5. Pain increases dramatically under pressure during the motion of the physical activity that caused it.
6. Pain increasingly occurs during ordinary motion (e.g. walking around, climbing stairs), not just exercise.
In any event, this is a disappointing development, as it puts my entire spring in limbo. I'm already signed up for the Boston Marathon, so I've decided that that's happening, no matter what. Given that, depending on how quickly I heal, I could be running again in a month (mid-to-late January), in which case I may be able to be a little bit more ambitious post-Boston. If things don't go so well, I might not be running until late February, which throws a huge monkey wrench into late spring/early summer. And of course, a lot of major races want commitments right now, so it's unlikely that I'll be racing anything (other than Boston, and hopefully the National Marathon, for the sake of keeping that streak alive) that's "major" until mid-to-late summer.
This also comes at an awkward time, as I suddenly have more free time, due to my MBA classes being done forever, and work being generally slow around the holidays. So, my plan to use additional free time for more running is shot.
On the upside, this forces me onto the bike, and into the pool, so perhaps if I can improve my swimming past the point of "just barely not drowning," I could throw my first triathlon into the mix at some point (probably something short, since the longer ones are more expensive and probably full at this point anyway). There's also the possibility that there could be other things in life besides work and running (or so I hear), so there's that to explore . . .
And looking long-term, perhaps being injured now will put me a few months behind the late-season burn-out curve that everybody else who is at least moderately competitive seems to ride, so that in the fall, when everybody else is tired from racing in the spring and summer, I'll be relatively fresh, and ready to perform well at a major event.
In summary (because for some reason, I feel like this needs a summary), a wise man, whose name may or may not actually be Andrew W.K., once belted out in a song, "Just because this life ain't easy doesn't make it bad." Not bad at all, Mr. W.K. Just interesting and ironic.
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