Comfortably Numb

When you live with compartment syndrome, there is no such thing as comfortably numb. Any decreased sensation is a cause for panic. A full feeling in a calf can cause a full meltdown. As such, I have to admit that I haven’t been totally honest about my leg over the past 6 weeks. Part of me felt like I was being hyper-sensitive. The other part felt that if I didn’t admit it publicly, it wasn’t really happening.

About 6 weeks ago, things started to feel off. I wasn’t rolling through my big toe, I had discomfort up near the fibular head and my calf just hurt. No amount of stretching, icing or changing my stride seemed to relieve the pain. On a couple of runs, I lost sensation in my 3rd, 4th and 5th toes. My foot didn’t commence its aggressive ground slapping and doesn’t feel completely like wood, but I got myself to PT in short order.  None of their findings are surprising: I baby my left side, which causes my right side to compensate and explains the perpetually sore hip. My hips are weak in general. My left calf is slightly larger than my right. When you massage my left calf, the tissue turns a freaky shade of no-blood-flow white for a while.

We agreed on an action plan, and I’ve been a good patient. My priority was continuing my long runs; can’t survive Boston without them. I ceded my track workouts and settled for a few faster paced runs. I agreed to bike more and take rest days. But I refused to stop running altogether. My surgery anniversary is next week and although I’ve come an enormous way, it would be crushing to have to stop running for my one year anniversary. Not to mention, I was already reticent to taper from a non-existing training cycle.

Next week, Matt, Jason and I are going to do some long range planning. While the input of coaches and training partners is a valuable piece of the puzzle, Jason and Matt offer a unique perspective that I think is key to me moving to the next level. They know my weak spots. They know the areas they’ve had to massage, laser and stim repeatedly to keep me going. Both are endurance athletes and understand (although they don’t necessarily agree) that I am not going to stop running. As I said to Jason yesterday, I want to figure out what I have to do to fix some of the physical flaws that keep landing me back in PT. That requires about 5% effort from them and 95% effort from me to commit to the strength training, cross training and flexibility work that I know is imperative, yet still skip.

I’m excited to see what we come up with for a plan. I’m starting to look beyond Boston (after all, the hay really is in the barn now) and think about my goals for the next year. There is not a chance I qualify for the Trials this year, which gives me a couple more years of base building and racing experience. I’m looking forward to racing with GMAA and to the Catamount Tuesday Race Series to work on speed and cut down my pre-race nerves. Most of all, I’m looking forward to 8 months without the requisite 20 extra minutes to get on snow clothes.

What are your goals for this season? How are you going to avoid your normal pitfalls?

I can see clearly now, the pain is gone...

Humans have an incredible capacity for managing chronic pain. We shove it down or ignore it or incorporate it into our baseline and carry on. I suspect that the long distance runner's capacity for pain is even greater than that of the average human.  Statistics on running injuries report that up to 70% of us will have an injury in any given year, yet we run on. Suffice to say, we know something about pain.

In the middle of my 20 miler yesterday, it occurred to me that I was no longer in pain. Any pain. In the ten months post-surgery, I have struggled with and complained of persistent deep calf pain. During a run, I would warm up, but the dull ache remained. Stretching or foam rolling was excruciating. But yesterday, somewhere around 2 miles in, I realized that I was comfortable. After so many months of ignoring the pain in my calf, the realization that it was absent actually put a smile on my face.

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me when the pain stopped. He recently had surgery on a tendon in his foot and is about 6 months behind me recovery-wise. I told him I'd let him know when it did, not what he wanted to hear, but honesty seemed like a better choice. At the time, I wasn't convinced it ever would. We've shared a similar recovery trajectory; promised an easy recovery, experiencing one wrought with delays and setbacks. He may have broken my record for weeks in a boot/on crutches over predicted.  I was happy to see him today to announce that in fact, I wasn't in pain anymore.  I expected that day about 8 months ago, but I'll take it however it goes.

So today, I add a new milestone to my recovery: finally pain free, 10 months post-surgery. 

My Mastercard Commercial

EMG/NCS Round 1 : $1200
Left Leg Fasciotomy: $3000 before insurance
10 hrs of PT x 12 weeks: $720 in co-pays
Repeat EMG/NCS:  TBD

Having surgery and doing full rehab to be worse off than prior to surgery?  Priceless.

Last Week's Goals:  All met except weight lifting (surprise, surprise)
This Week's Goals:  22 miles, 1 session of yoga and 1 session of weights plus assorted cardio.

Left Foot, Right Foot Breathe (Days 3 and 4)

Runners must be some of the worst post-op patients ever.  I've only been down since Wednesday, but I am completely stir crazy right now.  The good thing is that I'm too exhausted to even think about pushing it. A simple walk to the end of the driveway or trip to the bathroom takes all of my energy.  It's hard to believe that a week ago, two hour runs were nothing.  It's also hard to fathom that I will ever be back to that level of running again. I am hopeful, however, that starting PT on Tuesday will improve my mood.

Since I am only using Tylenol and ice right now to manage pain, pain remains an issue.  Once I get settled in a seated or prone position, the pain subsides, but changing between positions remains painful. I definitely underestimated how much pain would be involved; after all, I voluntarily run marathons.  With the possibility that I may have to do the right leg at some point, I will take a very different approach to surgery.  This time, I assumed that I would be able to go back to work tomorrow (Day 5) and to North Carolina for a conference on Thursday (Day 8).  Although the conference is still a possibility, I think it is very unlikely I will be able to go to work tomorrow.

My big accomplishments for the day:

• Dressed myself, almost in normal clothes.  
• Washed my hair, with the help of my sister.  
• Two "walks" to the end of my driveway (100 yards).  

Recap of Day 2

Yesterday was not a great day for me.  I woke up in the middle of the night violently ill and vomited for the next 6 hours.  As I've stated previously, pain pills and my stomach do not work well together.  That combined with the motion sensor patch wearing off and laying down all day with a stomach full of food made for a very rough night. Ended up with a prescription for anti-nausea pills, which helped me get through yesterday by sleeping 22 of the 24 hours.

I feel much better today; pain is pretty bad, but that's because I'm only using Tylenol and ice to manage pain. The compression and ice wrap is really helpful.  I'm very ready to see my scars on Tuesday and to have my pain go down to a 2 or a 3, especially when I'm up on crutches.