After my first marathon, I descended the stairs in our house on my butt. I sobbed on the third day when I attempted to drive Will to school and realized I still couldn't move my leg from the brake to the gas. My friends had all run the half marathon, and although they were sore, they weren't incapacitated like me. So as I sat at home and cried that Tuesday, I started googling post-marathon pain to make sure I wasn't alone. Turns out, this crab-walk/hobble/wince wasn't unique. When I came across the video below, however, I cried until I laughed until I cried again.
Today isn't nearly as bad as 2007, but going down stairs still isn't pretty. I'm by no means reduced to my butt, although it's crossed my mind. Downhill is a similar struggle. Coming home from work tonight, I was gingerly making my way down St. Paul Street, when I saw a woman hobble out of her car. In a Boston jacket. Her husband looked on bemused, then noticed me. She and I exclaimed simultaneously, "I'm so sore!" Perfect strangers, united in misery. I love the marathon.
Hurts So Good
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Home Sweet Home (and sore)
I promise a full race report by the end of the week, but I'm back in Vermont after a Boston Marathon-Funeral double header, so I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep in my own bed. It will be hard to go back to work tomorrow after more than a week off, but I'm excited to get back into a regular schedule.
Boston was a great experience. While the race wasn't quite as fast as I'd wanted (dreamed?), I ran a very smart, evenly paced race. My second half was only 30 seconds slower than my first, a feat on a course featuring a much harder second half. I was actually smiling throughout the race and save for horrible cramps after the finish, felt pretty good.
I paddled around the pool and hot tub last night and did a light bike workout this morning. That said, I'm still very sore. Stairs, ramps and chairs are not my friends. I'm looking forward to getting back to some light running by the end of the week, but am otherwise going to take the week to recover and reflect.
Boston was a great experience. While the race wasn't quite as fast as I'd wanted (dreamed?), I ran a very smart, evenly paced race. My second half was only 30 seconds slower than my first, a feat on a course featuring a much harder second half. I was actually smiling throughout the race and save for horrible cramps after the finish, felt pretty good.
I paddled around the pool and hot tub last night and did a light bike workout this morning. That said, I'm still very sore. Stairs, ramps and chairs are not my friends. I'm looking forward to getting back to some light running by the end of the week, but am otherwise going to take the week to recover and reflect.
Friday, April 8, 2011
A Year Ago
Hard to believe a year has gone by since surgery. I woke up this morning and went to PT and had a blog entry all sketched out in my head about this anniversary. Then, I got a call that my grandmother had a massive stroke and my whole day shifted. Like most hard days, I ended up running tonight when I got back into town. Running is what I do when I'm sad, when I'm stressed and when I'm happy, and I'm grateful that my return to running started a year ago today.
Before: Scar Free
After: To be posted soon.
What a strange trip it's been from there to here...
Before: Scar Free
After: To be posted soon.
What a strange trip it's been from there to here...
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
It was a good week.
Sometimes, things just click. After a December I'd rather forget, I benefited from some of that "resolution" mania floating around and had a great week of running. I moved my runs back to the morning, ran the hard workouts hard and the recovery workouts at recovery pace. My tempo run today felt effortless and (knock on wood), nothing hurts. Even my calf, which is in consistent pain, isn't bothering me too much.
Is it a subconscious New Year's Resolution? My new calf compression sleeves? Luck? I don't know. I know that it feels good to have a good week of training done, and encourages me to add a second week to that streak. I know that a PR in Boston seems closer to the realm of possibilities. I know that getting up to do 14 miles tomorrow morning is much easier after a good week than a bad week.
I'm so excited to have a good week in the bank. I hope you had one too. If you didn't, I hope tomorrow marks the beginning of one. It's like that quip we heard as children from parents and teachers: if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Run On
~S
Is it a subconscious New Year's Resolution? My new calf compression sleeves? Luck? I don't know. I know that it feels good to have a good week of training done, and encourages me to add a second week to that streak. I know that a PR in Boston seems closer to the realm of possibilities. I know that getting up to do 14 miles tomorrow morning is much easier after a good week than a bad week.
I'm so excited to have a good week in the bank. I hope you had one too. If you didn't, I hope tomorrow marks the beginning of one. It's like that quip we heard as children from parents and teachers: if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Run On
~S
Friday, December 10, 2010
What makes the dawn come up like thunder? Courage!
I am the Cowardly Lion of running. There, I said it. This is neither breaking news nor a surprise, but like most character flaws, hard to admit to yourself and others.
Even before surgery, I avoided racing (and speed work) because it was more comfortable to not know how fast (or slow) I was, an extension of the "if a tree falls in the forest" logic. After surgery, I've used recovery as a crutch. My surgery was on April 7th. I started running again in earnest in September. It's now December and I'm still jogging along. Part of that is that I am still in some pain. A bigger part of that is that I'm afraid to find out what happens when I start pushing it again.
What if I never run fast again? What if I never reach my goals in the marathon? What if I never PR? Alternatively, what if I am recovered and ready to run fast in Boston? Am I ready to plunge back into training, putting hours a day into running?
In deciding to run this half marathon next weekend, I find myself panicked. I recognize the need to push myself and the benefit of assessing my current speed. But what if I fail? I've had a few quality workouts in the past couple of weeks. I comfortably held estimated race pace for 4 miles on the treadmill. I ran a set of three minute 800s and am still walking. I slogged through 14 miles in snow and wind (okay, not quality, but a good character builder). Still, I am not prepared to confront the truth revealed by a real-life race.
The bigger question is, who cares? I assume that people will not like me less if I don't have a great race. I would guess that the readership of this blog (which, from the Google Stats, is alarmingly high) won't decrease if I blow up. So who does care? At the end of the day, it's probably only me. In all honesty, I'm never happy after a race even if it does go well. I am notorious for finishing a race and shrugging off congratulations with a litany of things I could have done differently.
So, how do you find courage? How do you push through doubt to give it a try? What confidence builders get you to the starting line?
Run on.
~S
Even before surgery, I avoided racing (and speed work) because it was more comfortable to not know how fast (or slow) I was, an extension of the "if a tree falls in the forest" logic. After surgery, I've used recovery as a crutch. My surgery was on April 7th. I started running again in earnest in September. It's now December and I'm still jogging along. Part of that is that I am still in some pain. A bigger part of that is that I'm afraid to find out what happens when I start pushing it again.
What if I never run fast again? What if I never reach my goals in the marathon? What if I never PR? Alternatively, what if I am recovered and ready to run fast in Boston? Am I ready to plunge back into training, putting hours a day into running?
In deciding to run this half marathon next weekend, I find myself panicked. I recognize the need to push myself and the benefit of assessing my current speed. But what if I fail? I've had a few quality workouts in the past couple of weeks. I comfortably held estimated race pace for 4 miles on the treadmill. I ran a set of three minute 800s and am still walking. I slogged through 14 miles in snow and wind (okay, not quality, but a good character builder). Still, I am not prepared to confront the truth revealed by a real-life race.
The bigger question is, who cares? I assume that people will not like me less if I don't have a great race. I would guess that the readership of this blog (which, from the Google Stats, is alarmingly high) won't decrease if I blow up. So who does care? At the end of the day, it's probably only me. In all honesty, I'm never happy after a race even if it does go well. I am notorious for finishing a race and shrugging off congratulations with a litany of things I could have done differently.
So, how do you find courage? How do you push through doubt to give it a try? What confidence builders get you to the starting line?
Run on.
~S
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Absence makes the heart grow...
Fonder? Nah, I've just been too busy to post. Luckily, a lot of that busy comes from getting back into running. I am fresh off my first 30 mile week, including 30 miles in two days last weekend. Yes, folks, I'm almost like a real live runner again. I successfully pulled off 15 on Saturday, followed by a half marathon on Sunday where I paced a dear friend through her very first half marathon. Granted, both of those runs were incredibly slow, but I'm grateful to have survived with no symptoms and to be running this week without any residual pain.
So how did I get here? As those around me can attest, I have been fastidious about routine and willing to try almost any rumored way to speed healing, encourage the regeneration of nerves and reduce scar tissue. This has translated into a number of new things:
First, I am actually taking my vitamins every day, which include a multivitamin, Vitamin D (I'm in the North, we are low on sunshine) and a Fish Oil. All of this comes from my mom, who also doubles as my RD. She reads a lot more of the nutritional research than I do, and while I can't provide support beyond the anecdotal, I'm reticent to change the routine because it isn't hurting me and I know, like many of us, I don't always eat as well as I should.
Second, I warm up and cool down. No longer can I run from my front door. Now, I warm up on a foam roller, then walk for a few minutes, then transition to a run. After my run, I stretch carefully and foam roll again. This adds a good 20 minutes to every run, but I'd do 40 if it meant running comfortably and avoiding additional surgeries.
Third, I am consistently working on flexibility. Much like taking my vitamins, I know I should, but that doesn't mean I want to. If I have an extra hour in my day, I am just not someone who would opt for yoga. I'd watch TV, go for a run, organize my bathroom, floss my teeth. Anything but yoga. I have to admit, though, that a regular practice has allowed me to be better aware of where my left foot is in space and for that, I'll om with the best of them.
It's hard to know whether these things are making a difference or if I'm just finally reaching the end of this road to recovery. Since none of them are likely to have a negative effect, I'll keep doing them (probably until I run out of time or forget all the lessons I've learned).
The next challenge is to not succumb to "too much, too soon." With registration for the Boston Marathon fast approaching, I find myself eager to start following a stringent plan. I know, however, that I still have a lot of base building to do and I fear that a strict plan will be discouraging. For the remainder of 2010, I am going to keep working towards a normal base for me, which is somewhere between 50 and 60 miles per week. This will come from a longer weekend runs and a handful of midweek runs. In a month or so, I'll begin to add tempo work back in. By January 2011, I should be ready to gear up for a true training cycle.
Stay tuned for a picture or two from the half marathon on Sunday. The event itself was poorly executed, but we had a ton of fun and it gave me a whole different perspective on running, which I will share along with those pictures.
So how did I get here? As those around me can attest, I have been fastidious about routine and willing to try almost any rumored way to speed healing, encourage the regeneration of nerves and reduce scar tissue. This has translated into a number of new things:
First, I am actually taking my vitamins every day, which include a multivitamin, Vitamin D (I'm in the North, we are low on sunshine) and a Fish Oil. All of this comes from my mom, who also doubles as my RD. She reads a lot more of the nutritional research than I do, and while I can't provide support beyond the anecdotal, I'm reticent to change the routine because it isn't hurting me and I know, like many of us, I don't always eat as well as I should.
Second, I warm up and cool down. No longer can I run from my front door. Now, I warm up on a foam roller, then walk for a few minutes, then transition to a run. After my run, I stretch carefully and foam roll again. This adds a good 20 minutes to every run, but I'd do 40 if it meant running comfortably and avoiding additional surgeries.
Third, I am consistently working on flexibility. Much like taking my vitamins, I know I should, but that doesn't mean I want to. If I have an extra hour in my day, I am just not someone who would opt for yoga. I'd watch TV, go for a run, organize my bathroom, floss my teeth. Anything but yoga. I have to admit, though, that a regular practice has allowed me to be better aware of where my left foot is in space and for that, I'll om with the best of them.
It's hard to know whether these things are making a difference or if I'm just finally reaching the end of this road to recovery. Since none of them are likely to have a negative effect, I'll keep doing them (probably until I run out of time or forget all the lessons I've learned).
The next challenge is to not succumb to "too much, too soon." With registration for the Boston Marathon fast approaching, I find myself eager to start following a stringent plan. I know, however, that I still have a lot of base building to do and I fear that a strict plan will be discouraging. For the remainder of 2010, I am going to keep working towards a normal base for me, which is somewhere between 50 and 60 miles per week. This will come from a longer weekend runs and a handful of midweek runs. In a month or so, I'll begin to add tempo work back in. By January 2011, I should be ready to gear up for a true training cycle.
Stay tuned for a picture or two from the half marathon on Sunday. The event itself was poorly executed, but we had a ton of fun and it gave me a whole different perspective on running, which I will share along with those pictures.
Monday, July 26, 2010
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 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.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Wanted: Totally Flat Marathon, perhaps on Treadmill
The search to figure out what is wrong with my leg has led to an interesting discovery: I am asymptomatic on flat surfaces. Before my EMG on Wednesday, I ran for almost 40 minutes on a treadmill with little trouble. Today, I ran a flat mile on an indoor track in under 8 minutes, with no pain and no symptoms, followed by another asymptomatic 3 on the treadmill. What good is this information? In some ways, not much. It complicates things because it corroborates Dr. Slauterbeck's thought that something is going on with my gastroc head, a finding ruled out, at least neurologically, by the EMG.
What this discovery does allow me to do, however, is continue to rebuild my fitness. One of the other complications I am currently dealing with is the fact that being out of shape means that I am just not as efficient as usual. Because of this, it's possible that some of my discomfort while running is a result of compensating for my lack of cardiovascular fitness. Indeed, it's hard to remember cranking out 7 minute miles for 26 miles when a 9 minute mile is a "fast day."
I'm getting more aggressive with my running and general fitness this week, aiming for about 20 miles of running (I did 17 miles last week) plus another 2 hours of cardio, 3 sessions of weight lifting and a nightly core routine. I'm hopeful that by continuing to improve my fitness, we can suss out what is related to the nerve issue and what is a side effect of my loss of conditioning.
What this discovery does allow me to do, however, is continue to rebuild my fitness. One of the other complications I am currently dealing with is the fact that being out of shape means that I am just not as efficient as usual. Because of this, it's possible that some of my discomfort while running is a result of compensating for my lack of cardiovascular fitness. Indeed, it's hard to remember cranking out 7 minute miles for 26 miles when a 9 minute mile is a "fast day."
I'm getting more aggressive with my running and general fitness this week, aiming for about 20 miles of running (I did 17 miles last week) plus another 2 hours of cardio, 3 sessions of weight lifting and a nightly core routine. I'm hopeful that by continuing to improve my fitness, we can suss out what is related to the nerve issue and what is a side effect of my loss of conditioning.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
The 10 Week Itch
At just past 10 weeks post-op, I'm back to working out 5 to 6 days a week, running 3 days a week with about 25 minutes of running at a time. It's a far cry from "normal" for me, but there's certainly a light at the end of the tunnel. Because I have to build up carefully, I am doing far more cross-training than I ever have before. Thankfully, I have a great road bike that doesn't limit me to indoor cross training. I switched back to flat pedals before surgery because the motion of clipping in and out (for those that don't ride, to clip out, you have to twist your foot to the side) was too painful. Post-surgery, my ankle is to weak to get out efficiently, and the last thing I need is to do a slow-tip. Although this limits how hard I can ride, I've been able to get out for 20 to 30 mile rides a few days a week. It always amazes me how gentle biking can be on the body compared to running. A 20 mile run is a production; a 20 mile ride can happen before work with no problem.
I'm finally starting to plan my return to racing. To give myself adequate time to rebuild and to take the pressure off of myself for the fall, I've decided to not race a full until January or February. I am planning on running a full with friends at a training pace for fun in October, pacing a friend through her first half in November and racing a half somewhere this fall to begin to test my fitness. Beyond that, I am only planning on racing 5K or 10K races for speed work and a good test of fitness and progress. This gives me 3 solid months of base building before I head back into a training cycle. Once I race in January, I go to Boston and then (hopefully) to seek revenge on Vermont City.
This next year brings considerable challenges in terms of balancing training, work and coursework. I am preparing to go back to school to be a Physician Assistant (with an Orthopaedic Surgical focus of course :)) and am taking the requisite sciences to achieve that, working full time in Research and planning to support a 60 to 70 mile per week mileage base. This fall in particular will likely be a serious test of time management. I suspect that I will become a recluse, running in the mornings and at lunch, and residing in the library at night. I am committed, however to trying to maintain some strength and yoga work as well. We'll see what has to give when fantasy meets reality in the fall...
I'm finally starting to plan my return to racing. To give myself adequate time to rebuild and to take the pressure off of myself for the fall, I've decided to not race a full until January or February. I am planning on running a full with friends at a training pace for fun in October, pacing a friend through her first half in November and racing a half somewhere this fall to begin to test my fitness. Beyond that, I am only planning on racing 5K or 10K races for speed work and a good test of fitness and progress. This gives me 3 solid months of base building before I head back into a training cycle. Once I race in January, I go to Boston and then (hopefully) to seek revenge on Vermont City.
This next year brings considerable challenges in terms of balancing training, work and coursework. I am preparing to go back to school to be a Physician Assistant (with an Orthopaedic Surgical focus of course :)) and am taking the requisite sciences to achieve that, working full time in Research and planning to support a 60 to 70 mile per week mileage base. This fall in particular will likely be a serious test of time management. I suspect that I will become a recluse, running in the mornings and at lunch, and residing in the library at night. I am committed, however to trying to maintain some strength and yoga work as well. We'll see what has to give when fantasy meets reality in the fall...
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Sheeee's Back
My apologies for being absent over the past couple weeks (and missing some great picture milestones), but I've been busy...running! At just about 8 weeks post-op (last week), I started doing some gradual running on the treadmill. We started with 3 minute intervals with two minutes of rest (about a mile of running total) and worked up to yesterday, where I did 4 minute intervals with a minute rest for 2 whole miles of running. Wahooooo!
The only pain I'm having is in the first running interval, where it feels like the worst calf cramp known to man. Last week, it happened much earlier. Yesterday, it was right at 4 minutes when it started. A simple stretch (dropping it off the edge of the treadmill) relieved it and by the end of the run, I dare say I felt warmed up! The loss of fitness piece is far more disheartening. I notice it less so with running, but was breathing hard on the elliptical.
Still working on focusing on strength. One of my goals as I begin to base-build again (I cannot believe I have to do this again, by the way) is to continue to focus on core and hip strength, as well as upper body strength to help with my arm swing (and therefore knee drive). It is very hard, as miles rise, to fit in strength and flexibility. However, I want to be one of the athletes who successfully returns from CECS surgery, not one who has to return to the OR.
By the end of the month, my PT team (whom I love) and I are hoping for 30 minutes non-stop of running. By our estimate, slow building will have me back to full fitness in about 4 months. All told, this is a 6 month break from competition. I'm framing it as an extended recovery period, where all the little niggles and aches of any long-distance runner have a chance to truly heal. In addition, this recovery period has forced me to slow down, to think about what running means to me. Running has always been a part of my fitness plan, but it hasn't always been a positive force in my life. Being forced to stop helps me to see just how much running does for me in terms of mood and opportunity for self-reflection, nevermind a great butt in jeans.
The only pain I'm having is in the first running interval, where it feels like the worst calf cramp known to man. Last week, it happened much earlier. Yesterday, it was right at 4 minutes when it started. A simple stretch (dropping it off the edge of the treadmill) relieved it and by the end of the run, I dare say I felt warmed up! The loss of fitness piece is far more disheartening. I notice it less so with running, but was breathing hard on the elliptical.
Still working on focusing on strength. One of my goals as I begin to base-build again (I cannot believe I have to do this again, by the way) is to continue to focus on core and hip strength, as well as upper body strength to help with my arm swing (and therefore knee drive). It is very hard, as miles rise, to fit in strength and flexibility. However, I want to be one of the athletes who successfully returns from CECS surgery, not one who has to return to the OR.
By the end of the month, my PT team (whom I love) and I are hoping for 30 minutes non-stop of running. By our estimate, slow building will have me back to full fitness in about 4 months. All told, this is a 6 month break from competition. I'm framing it as an extended recovery period, where all the little niggles and aches of any long-distance runner have a chance to truly heal. In addition, this recovery period has forced me to slow down, to think about what running means to me. Running has always been a part of my fitness plan, but it hasn't always been a positive force in my life. Being forced to stop helps me to see just how much running does for me in terms of mood and opportunity for self-reflection, nevermind a great butt in jeans.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
5 Weeks Post-Op
It's hard to believe that I am already 5 weeks post-op. 5 weeks ago, I thought I'd be close to running again. While I'm closer than I was 3 weeks ago, it seems unlikely that I'll head out the door to jog next week.
That said, I am definitely starting to make progress. PT is going well and my scars are starting to fade down. I'm currently trying to decide whether to dress them up with a tattoo (after I get off Coumadin, of course). Suggestions have included a full calf sleeve with a Halloween theme (thanks Pete), bows or a zipper up the back. As you'll see below, getting the remainder of the glue off was a significant improvement.
I'm starting to run in the deep well a couple of days a week. I did 15 minutes yesterday and felt good. Water moving over the incisions was a little uncomfortable, but I managed. Today, however, I am very tight in my hips, so will need to start to work on flexibility again. On days when I'm not in the pool, I'm up to 30 minutes on the bike. I am also starting to do upper body weight training again.
Despite getting back into the swing of things, I am still extremely tired by the end of the work day. By the time I make dinner, I'm ready to crawl into bed. Even this morning, I skipped my morning bike ride for more sleep. It's very similar, actually, to the way I often feel during peak mileage weeks, where I could sleep 12 hours a day and not be rested. Luckily, the "Sarah crush" phenomenon that I also have during peak weeks is absent.
Below are my scars at 5 weeks: Lateral on theTop, Medial on the Bottom
That said, I am definitely starting to make progress. PT is going well and my scars are starting to fade down. I'm currently trying to decide whether to dress them up with a tattoo (after I get off Coumadin, of course). Suggestions have included a full calf sleeve with a Halloween theme (thanks Pete), bows or a zipper up the back. As you'll see below, getting the remainder of the glue off was a significant improvement.
I'm starting to run in the deep well a couple of days a week. I did 15 minutes yesterday and felt good. Water moving over the incisions was a little uncomfortable, but I managed. Today, however, I am very tight in my hips, so will need to start to work on flexibility again. On days when I'm not in the pool, I'm up to 30 minutes on the bike. I am also starting to do upper body weight training again.
Despite getting back into the swing of things, I am still extremely tired by the end of the work day. By the time I make dinner, I'm ready to crawl into bed. Even this morning, I skipped my morning bike ride for more sleep. It's very similar, actually, to the way I often feel during peak mileage weeks, where I could sleep 12 hours a day and not be rested. Luckily, the "Sarah crush" phenomenon that I also have during peak weeks is absent.
Below are my scars at 5 weeks: Lateral on theTop, Medial on the Bottom
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
3 Weeks Post Op
Today marks 3 weeks from surgery and I've come a long way, even from last week. I am down to almost no pain, save for occasional discomfort when I put too much weight on my left foot. I am "walking" on crutches, which means that I am mimicking a true step, while letting the crutches bear most of the weight. When I'm home, I am plodding around without crutches at all. I look a little less like a pirate than I did last Friday, but am still very stiff legged. My calf is much less tight, but I still can't push off my toe, so I'm forced to step from my heel. That said, I am much more comfortable in shoes than in bare feet, a first for me. My ankle is still swollen, but much better than it was. Thanks to the snowstorm, I was forced to explore which close-toed shoes would fit my fat foot and was happy to discover that my work clogs would go on.
And now for some pictures...(Medial and Lateral Incisions respectively)
And now for some pictures...(Medial and Lateral Incisions respectively)
Saturday, April 24, 2010
A marathon is how long?
Whether it's the blood thinner or the cumulative effect of a few weeks of zero physical activity (seriously, how do people choose to be couch potatoes?), I am feeling seriously out of shape. Hauling myself around by my arms takes a lot of effort, but it's not exactly tantamount to a jog, or even a brisk walk. I bought a gentle yoga DVD today, but only got as far as the deep breathing. Turns out, despite being able to stand, balancing and stretching are advanced standing skills. I did manage to do 10 minutes on the stationary bike without discomfort. My left foot still hangs there, close to lifeless, but is happy to rotate while the right leg pushes.
I typically get annoyed at people who lack respect for the effort demanded by the marathon. Whether you are a 5 hour or a 3 hour marathoner, it will take everything you have and then some. That frustration is growing daily, both as we approach the Vermont City Marathon here in Burlington and as I get farther from running shape. From friends who have maxed out at 4 mile runs and consider themselves "ready enough" to the girls I overheard on campus this week, plotting how to cheat at the relay (don't get me started), it seems like everyone wants the easy way to the end of 26.2. The truth is, there's no easy way to get there. 26 miles is a damn long run. The .2 is just plain mean.
Right now, a fall marathon seems thousands of miles away. A few pirate-worthy steps are a long way from the finish line...
I typically get annoyed at people who lack respect for the effort demanded by the marathon. Whether you are a 5 hour or a 3 hour marathoner, it will take everything you have and then some. That frustration is growing daily, both as we approach the Vermont City Marathon here in Burlington and as I get farther from running shape. From friends who have maxed out at 4 mile runs and consider themselves "ready enough" to the girls I overheard on campus this week, plotting how to cheat at the relay (don't get me started), it seems like everyone wants the easy way to the end of 26.2. The truth is, there's no easy way to get there. 26 miles is a damn long run. The .2 is just plain mean.
Right now, a fall marathon seems thousands of miles away. A few pirate-worthy steps are a long way from the finish line...
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
2 Weeks Out
The last week has flown by, for reasons good and bad. On Thursday of last week, I traveled to North Carolina to attend the annual research conference at UNC-Chapel Hill's School of Government, where I got my master's degree. I had two short flights (less than one hour each) and clearance to travel, and made the decision to attend. As soon as the flights got underway, however, it was evident that perhaps I was not ready to fly. My calf started throbbing and I was in the most pain I've been in through my entire recovery.
While sitting at the conference, my leg and foot started to swell considerably, so badly that my flip flop would not fit on my foot. Because I had just flown and was post-surgery, I sought care at UNC's Emergency Room. Within hours, an ultrasound would show that I had 3 clots in veins in my calf, and I was admitted to the hospital. It was terrifying to be in North Carolina, hundreds of miles away from my family, with a potentially life threatening condition. For those who are not familiar, deep vein thrombosis (DVT) is a very dangerous condition. If a clot breaks off, it can travel to the lungs, causing a pulmonary embolism.
During my hospital stay, I received excellent care. In fact, the caring nature of the staff brought me to tears every time. My housekeeper brought me flowers "because my momma was too far away." My nurses fussed over me. My doctors were patient and thorough, realizing that for me, information helps to calm me down. When I was finally discharged, I had a team of amazing friends who held doors and crutches, carried my bag and generally took care for me for 3 days. Two of them drove me from North Carolina to New York so we could avoid more pain on my return flight.
I am now on a blood thinner to help manage the clot. With this comes frequent doctor's visits to check my INR (essentially blood thinness) and the perpetual panic that every cough or throb in my calf means a clot is on the move towards my heart. This morning, for example, I woke up in excruciating pain and could not get comfortable. Luckily, I had an appointment, so the nurse assured me that pain and swelling is normal with clots, but not necessarily indicative of a medical emergency. Still, I look forward to the day when a cough is just a cough.
From a surgical recovery perspective, I am doing alright. On the suggestion of the Physical Therapist I had in North Carolina, I've started to do a 4 point touch; basically, my left foot taps on the ground as I walk. Two nights ago, I took a few really good steps heel to toe with the help of my crutch. I am also doing my gas pedals and alphabet exercises regularly. It's still hard to think about running again, especially now that I need to be careful about falling. I had hoped to use cycling and swimming to help build my cardio before starting running. Now, I'm reticent to head out on my road bike because I don't want to fall. My incisions look as good as can be expected; they are flattening out and itch like crazy.
In all of this, I believe there are lessons to be learned. From my perspective, I don't feel that the risk of blood clots was adequately communicated to me by my post-op team. Now that I know the symptoms, it seems possible that I had the clot for a while before I sought care. When I had my post-op appointment, no vitals were taken and my complaints of throbbing in my calf was diagnosed as normal post-op pain. To take responsibility, however, I chose to be aggressive with recovery, despite having struggled from Day 1 post-operatively. While someone who had not struggled with anesthesia, pain and vomiting may have traveled successfully a week post-op, I did not.
At this point, I'm just desperate to return to some semblance of normal life. While I would love to be running again, right now I would take walking without crutches in minimal pain. In thinking about the experience and the chance that I might develop symptoms in my right leg, I am resolute that I would not opt to do this surgery again. I would rather give up competitive running than go through this again. For those considering this surgery, I don't say this to talk you out of the procedure, but simply to share my opinion. I love running more than almost anything, but I value my life and mobility more. The complications resulting from this surgery are not something I am willing to risk again.
While sitting at the conference, my leg and foot started to swell considerably, so badly that my flip flop would not fit on my foot. Because I had just flown and was post-surgery, I sought care at UNC's Emergency Room. Within hours, an ultrasound would show that I had 3 clots in veins in my calf, and I was admitted to the hospital. It was terrifying to be in North Carolina, hundreds of miles away from my family, with a potentially life threatening condition. For those who are not familiar, deep vein thrombosis (DVT) is a very dangerous condition. If a clot breaks off, it can travel to the lungs, causing a pulmonary embolism.
During my hospital stay, I received excellent care. In fact, the caring nature of the staff brought me to tears every time. My housekeeper brought me flowers "because my momma was too far away." My nurses fussed over me. My doctors were patient and thorough, realizing that for me, information helps to calm me down. When I was finally discharged, I had a team of amazing friends who held doors and crutches, carried my bag and generally took care for me for 3 days. Two of them drove me from North Carolina to New York so we could avoid more pain on my return flight.
I am now on a blood thinner to help manage the clot. With this comes frequent doctor's visits to check my INR (essentially blood thinness) and the perpetual panic that every cough or throb in my calf means a clot is on the move towards my heart. This morning, for example, I woke up in excruciating pain and could not get comfortable. Luckily, I had an appointment, so the nurse assured me that pain and swelling is normal with clots, but not necessarily indicative of a medical emergency. Still, I look forward to the day when a cough is just a cough.
From a surgical recovery perspective, I am doing alright. On the suggestion of the Physical Therapist I had in North Carolina, I've started to do a 4 point touch; basically, my left foot taps on the ground as I walk. Two nights ago, I took a few really good steps heel to toe with the help of my crutch. I am also doing my gas pedals and alphabet exercises regularly. It's still hard to think about running again, especially now that I need to be careful about falling. I had hoped to use cycling and swimming to help build my cardio before starting running. Now, I'm reticent to head out on my road bike because I don't want to fall. My incisions look as good as can be expected; they are flattening out and itch like crazy.
In all of this, I believe there are lessons to be learned. From my perspective, I don't feel that the risk of blood clots was adequately communicated to me by my post-op team. Now that I know the symptoms, it seems possible that I had the clot for a while before I sought care. When I had my post-op appointment, no vitals were taken and my complaints of throbbing in my calf was diagnosed as normal post-op pain. To take responsibility, however, I chose to be aggressive with recovery, despite having struggled from Day 1 post-operatively. While someone who had not struggled with anesthesia, pain and vomiting may have traveled successfully a week post-op, I did not.
At this point, I'm just desperate to return to some semblance of normal life. While I would love to be running again, right now I would take walking without crutches in minimal pain. In thinking about the experience and the chance that I might develop symptoms in my right leg, I am resolute that I would not opt to do this surgery again. I would rather give up competitive running than go through this again. For those considering this surgery, I don't say this to talk you out of the procedure, but simply to share my opinion. I love running more than almost anything, but I value my life and mobility more. The complications resulting from this surgery are not something I am willing to risk again.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
1 Week Out
Last week at this time, I was in la-la land, somewhere between the OR and the PACU. To be completely honest, this past week has been far more difficult than I was prepared for. Some of that was that anesthesia really took a lot of out of me; the other major part was that I was unable to tolerate the pain meds, so had to experience recovery on tylenol and ice.
Today, however, I started to get back to "normal" life. I went to work this morning and found out just how far my office is from the Peds Clinic on crutches. Normally, it's a 5 minute walk. This morning, it was a 25 minute adventure that left me breathless and soaked in sweat. I am learning quickly that many doors are heavier than they look and that walking should not be taken for granted. Luckily, once I got to the clinic, I put myself on an exam stool and scooted around. My leg is achy but not overly painful. The swelling in my foot is down as well.
This afternoon, my project is laundry, as I'm scheduled to travel to North Carolina in the morning. Surviving this morning gives me some confidence for tomorrow. I am going to have to swallow my pride and use the wheelchair service at the airport; there is no other way to tote my bag. My dependency on others is perhaps the hardest part of this whole recovery. I hate needing help or feeling like a burden. Over the past week, I have had to ask for help with everything. After the first day, I managed to use the bathroom without help, but even this morning Matt had to put my sneaker on for me. I cannot imagine having done this without the support of my parents, my sister or my boyfriend. My friend Katie who had ankle surgery last year, did much of her recovery alone and remarked last night that "you'll be amazed how resourceful you become." Indeed, I just used my right crutch to push the laundry basket around so I could load the washer.
I am finally starting to see how I'm going to walk and run again. Starting PT was encouraging, as was getting through this morning, sweat soaked as I was. Over the next few days, I need to work on getting the swelling out of my ankle and beginning to weight bear on my left foot.
Today, however, I started to get back to "normal" life. I went to work this morning and found out just how far my office is from the Peds Clinic on crutches. Normally, it's a 5 minute walk. This morning, it was a 25 minute adventure that left me breathless and soaked in sweat. I am learning quickly that many doors are heavier than they look and that walking should not be taken for granted. Luckily, once I got to the clinic, I put myself on an exam stool and scooted around. My leg is achy but not overly painful. The swelling in my foot is down as well.
This afternoon, my project is laundry, as I'm scheduled to travel to North Carolina in the morning. Surviving this morning gives me some confidence for tomorrow. I am going to have to swallow my pride and use the wheelchair service at the airport; there is no other way to tote my bag. My dependency on others is perhaps the hardest part of this whole recovery. I hate needing help or feeling like a burden. Over the past week, I have had to ask for help with everything. After the first day, I managed to use the bathroom without help, but even this morning Matt had to put my sneaker on for me. I cannot imagine having done this without the support of my parents, my sister or my boyfriend. My friend Katie who had ankle surgery last year, did much of her recovery alone and remarked last night that "you'll be amazed how resourceful you become." Indeed, I just used my right crutch to push the laundry basket around so I could load the washer.
I am finally starting to see how I'm going to walk and run again. Starting PT was encouraging, as was getting through this morning, sweat soaked as I was. Over the next few days, I need to work on getting the swelling out of my ankle and beginning to weight bear on my left foot.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
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:
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).
Saturday, April 10, 2010
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.
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.
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