Chasing My Dreams – Cynsspace

Introducing Izzy

After 6 weeks of waiting, I finally have an answer; it’s a tear and, yes, it is a real pain in the butt.

My official diagnosis is a partial tear of the tendon at the ischial tuberosity. In October, when that first came up as a possibility, I asked, “The what? Did you just make that name up?” It is real. There are three hamstring muscles and one leads to the ischial tuberosity, which is at the top of the femur but under the gluteus Maximus – basically, at the sitbone. When we sit, the glutes pull up and leave the sitbone to dig down. With the tear that I have, sitting kills. This week, I almost feel like I could start to run, but with sitting bring as painful as it is, I know I can’t run yet.

3mm deep – between the height of 2 dimes and 2 nickels

It is obvious that I tore my ischial tuberosity at the beginning of October. After 6 weeks of healing, it currently measures 6mm by 4mm by 3mm; I wish that I could tell how big it was when I first started.

The first thing I did when I got home was text my kinesiology student, who replied with “LOL. The old tuberosity, eh. I literally had my hands on one an hour ago.” After a few messages back and forth, I decided to name it – something with a harsh sound, but one that Tammy the Hamstring would like. I decided on “Izzy, the Ischial Tuberosity.” Can’t you imagine Tammy and Izzy hanging out together?

Messaging my son gave me another idea. I had to make a model of the tear so that I could understand it better. Suddenly, the pain I have had makes sense as I imagine a gap or a hole in my tendon that needs to be filled.

Dr. Elliott, my sports medical doctor, said that healing can take up to 6 months, but he doesn’t think it will take that long. “You’re in a lot better shape than most people at this point,” he said. “It will probably be another month.” I don’t need surgery, which is great. Dr. Elliott suggested a cortisone shot, but I want to stay away from that as cortisone can break down tissue. PRP (platelet rich plasma) therapy is another option, but it won’t speed up healing; it does, though, strengthen the tendon. While that still sounds appealing, it comes with a hefty price tag (up to $2000) and there isn’t enough evidence to prove its effectiveness. I will continue to research that, though, and sit on it (haha!) for a while. At this point, my answer is ‘no’.

Meanwhile, I will continue to do what I am as it is obviously helping. And now that I know exactly what the problem is, I can work with my chiropractor and coach to get me running again and, hopefully, ready to race in a few months.

Tammy Gets An Ultrasound

After weeks of waiting, I finally got some imaging done, not the MRI that the hospital’s doc and my GP recommended, but an ultrasound. It’s a start.

During the summer, it was obvious that Tammy the Hamstring was the problem. Time off and a lot of treatments helped her to heal, but while I evicting Tammy, she started to move north and enlisted the help of her friends. Some days, my piriformis was acting up; other days, my glutes were joining her attack. Injuries can be like that. As the epicentre starts to heal, the pain shifts, but it comes back under control. Tammy and her friends followed this pattern.

When my right side gave way on the Wednesday before Chicago, though, it was a totally different feeling. My hip buckled under me, and Tammy and her friends joined the party. I felt as if my entire right side was being invaded. My chiropractor, acupuncture and I counter-attacked, but my hip went down again during the first mile in Chicago.

Everyone wanted imaging and, five weeks after that first battle, it finally happened. Is it Tammy, my piriformis, my right adductor, my femur , my hip, bursitis, a tear, a fracture….it could be anything. All we do know is this is not an isolated pain because all of those bones and muscle groups are interconnected. The instigator remains a mystery.

By the end of the week, I will have the results and, as the days get closer, I feel more and more like a child waiting for Christmas morning. Hopefully, they will shed some light on what is happening inside; two more sleeps.

Gratitude

Yesterday morning, I was visiting my chiropractor and the topic of mental health came up. “When I have competitive athletes,” Sandy said, “I have to watch their mental health. If they stop running me and they aren’t doing anything else, I worry because that is when they can fall into depression.”

I have seen it. Years ago, a close friend of mine was injured and flat out refused to go for a walk, come to yoga, start swimming with me (and if I am willing to get back into the pool, you know that I am trying everything to get him active again)….All he wanted to do was run and depression took over.

Ironically, Kelly-Lynne and I were talking about how runners deal with injuries just before Tammy the Hamstring started to complain. “I’m pretty sure that I would find something else to do,” she said. I was sure of my reaction. “I know I would. After watching my friend suffer….I don’t want to go through that.”

As much as I miss running, I have accepted whatever injury I have and that I need the time off. When my forced break began, I could barely walk without being in pain, but I looked for things that I could do – or try to do – and, week by week, I find that I can keep adding something else to my list of can’s. This week, I feel especially grateful for the things that are a part of my healing.

I am grateful to be able to do:

a. Yoga. For weeks, this was my only outlet. At the beginning of October, I could not get into a Warrior One pose; now I can. Two weeks ago, I still couldn’t move into a Crescent Moon, but I did a few on Friday for the first time; I had to work to hold it, but I got into the position and that is progress. Yoga sets a bar for me and I get excited when I find that I can suddenly do something that I couldn’t in the class before. I am committed to going three times a week, which I will continue once I am back in my running shoes.

Lunges: 6 x 60 various types of lunges twice a week.

b. Lunges. Three weeks ago, when the temperature dropped, I didn’t want to do my lunge drill outside because it was too cold; I worried that the cold could be detrimental and I could end up doing more damage to the same muscle group that I have been trying to rehabilitate. So I turned indoors. Twice a week, after dropping off my son, I head to school before almost everyone else and stretch and strengthen through the hallways before my work day begins.

c. Planking. This started off as a bar to measure my strength but it has evolved into a personal challenge. Two minutes, every day, and anywhere: no problem. We’ll see how high that number can climb.

d. Indoor Cycling. I use to ride a lot: I commuted through Toronto by bike; somedays, I felt like I lived on a lifecycle at the gym; Dave and I covered a lot of miles on our rode bikes. But that was before kids and when the roads were less busy and less dangerous. Somehow in the past few years, cycling of any kind has become a part of my past. But my windtrainer is still in the basement. I walk past it every time I have to hang up laundry and, every time, I tell myself that I need to start spinning the wheels again. Three weeks ago, as soon as my leg was strong enough, I got back into the saddle. For now, it is my only form of cardio and it can be as boring as heck, but I am glad to have it.

Boring, yes, but it is saving my cardio.

And I have more options to look forward to: weights, rowing, swimming….As soon as I know exactly what I am dealing with, I can introduce other ways to build and maintain as I transition back to running. I can’t worry about what I can’t control, but I can focus on the things I can.

Tammy Goes To The Doctor

After getting back from Chicago, I knew that Tammy the Hamstring needed to see a Sports Medicine specialist. But getting an appointment wasn’t easy. I had to go through my GP, which was a two week wait. Then, I had to wait another 10 days before I could see the sports doc. I joked that by the time I would actually see him, I would be almost healed.

Tammy and I drove to Burlington on Friday to see Dr. Elliott at his sports medicine clinic to try to find out what is setting her off and turning her a real pain in the butt. While waiting, another patient recognized me. “Cynthia?” she asked. “It’s—. So how is retirement treating you?”

“Ummmm…I am not retired.” It’s a week later and I still don’t have a good comeback.

It’s a good thing that I have already established a relationship with Dr. Elliott from a previous injury years ago as my first interaction on Friday was with his resident. When she called for me and I got up from the chair, I stumbled because my hip was sore after sitting while waiting. She laughed at me and I felt put out. I wasn’t clumsy; I just have something going on with the right side of my pelvis which is why I was there in the first place. She took me into the examination room and began to ask questions, one of the first being “Give me some examples of when it hurts.” So I did until she cut cut me off: “Okay, I get it. You’re in pain.” Somehow, I managed to bite my tongue. After more discussion, she suggested a cortisone shot. I was, again, taken aback, wondering why she would jump to an injection without examining me first. When she got around to doing that, she commented “Wow, you are really skinny! No, you are really skinny!” I still can’t find the right words to explain how I felt: shocked, angry, upset, annoyed….None of them were positive.

My confidence was restored when Dr. Elliott walked into the room. He wanted imaging – hooray! – and requisitioned an ultrasound of the entire right side of the pelvis. As I expected, he wants to see what is going on inside so that we can proceed with treatment. Meanwhile, he said, I have done all of the right things.

Dr. Elliott suggested that I may be dealing with bursitis, but there may also be a tear somewhere; hamstring tears, he told me, take about 3 months to heal. Meanwhile, there is obviously a lot of inflammation so I walked away with a prescription for anti-inflammatories.

Getting closer to solving this puzzle has left me feeling positive. The worst case scenario is a tear and, if so, I’m more than halfway to three months. I am still not convinced that there isn’t a stress fracture, though, and I am waiting for an MRI.

The logo from the clinic sums up my feelings.

As crazy as it sounds, I am looking forward to racing in 2019. I have already targeted Robbie Burns at the end of January, crossing fingers that I will be back on the road by mid-December. Once I get the first set of results, I can decide if I should register. Meanwhile, I’ll continue with yoga, increase my time on the windtrainer and, when I am feeling gutsy, get back into the pool. Once this is all over, I should be ready to slowly rebuild my base and get back to chasing my dreams.

The Boomerang Effect: In the day of a marshall

Last Sunday, I marshalled at the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon. Quite honestly, volunteering at the event was about the last thing that I wanted to do, especially after the Chicago fiasco, but my club (Toronto Olympic Club) always helps Canada Running Series (CRS) with its races. I had made this commitment to help weeks ago and wasn’t about to bail, especially with the prediction of colder weather, which always leads to volunteers not showing up. Besides, it is always good to give back.

I was up at 5:30 to walk Zeda before heading into the city and I arrived in High Park at 7:45. A short walk to my station turned into a long detour due to construction next to the park but I made it to the south side of Parkside and Lakeshore, the 13k point, with time to spare.

As the name implies, Lakeshore is along Lake Ontario and, sure enough, it was cold. I was already bundled up but pulled out my son’s jacket, which I grabbed at the last minute, and added a final layer which left me unrecognizable. I was warm and ready to have some fun.

I ended up marshalling before the runners even got to me. One marshall didn’t show so I was moved to the north side of Lakeshore, which was about 300 metres away from the construction zone, that same construction zone that I was not allowed to walk through. Shortly after I had received an update that the lead runners were about 5k away, a burly construction worker started to move pylons out of his way.

“Um….where do you think you’re going?” I asked.

“Over there,” he said, pointing towards the water station along Lakeshore.

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you’re not. There is a race going on along here.” Imagine saying this while the road is closed and there is not a runner in sight. After getting a perplexed look from this poor guy who probably just finished the night shift, just wanted to go home and couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t, I continued. “So you are going to have to turn your truck around, drive back up to Bloor Street and go home from there.”

“Okay,” he sheepishly replied. Then he put the pylon back, turned around and barely two minutes later, the lead runners came through.

The next real marshalling test came approximately at the same time as the 5 hour marathoners. I looked east and wondered if I was seeing a fire truck. “Is that seriously a fire truck?” Within seconds, I was directing hundreds of runners to left side of the road so that the truck could get by. Then, it turned at the round-about between north and south Lakeshore so that it could go east. The runners were great and cooperated, as I expected they would, and the truck got to its location – about 500 metres east of me.

The other Marshall and I had no idea what was going on. Figuring that there should be some kind of CRS presence there, he followed the truck to where it stopped so that he could direct runners around it and make sure that they were safe. Meanwhile, I stayed back because I figured there was bound to be one or two other emergency vehicles. Sure enough, an ambulance came through and I was more prepared for the turn it was about to make. I am still not sure what happened, but I heard that a runner did leave in an ambulance.

The rest of the time, I was busy cheering on runners and playing route director. Apart from the typical encouraging words, I found a new set of catch phrases to use, including:

**Water station up ahead. Endurance tap up ahead. There is a party going on up there.”

** Porta-potties on the left.
No, don’t use those ones (other, grey porta-potties)! Those are for the construction workers and they’re gross!

Volunteering is good for everyone. It directly supports the runners which indirectly helps the charities. And even though I have volunteered many times, Sunday’s work was different as it came back to help me. By the end of my shift, I was not tired, but energized. I left feeling really good. I loved watching the runners and walkers, and I felt encouraged by their dedication to the marathon. They gave me hope that I will be able to toe the line again. They motivated me to keep chasing my dreams.

Cheers for Volunteers

The running community is surrounded by volunteers. We work with coaches, depend on race marshalls to keep us safe, and look for those handing out water and Gatorade and blankets to keep us warm when we finish racing. A lot of race directors and their teams are often volunteers. But the one group that we tend to forget about are the First Aid Responders.

Before I write any more, I should make it clear that some organizations are crewed by paid responders, but many are not. What is the difference between them? Basically, none. They are all trained and kept up to date through practical sessions. But an event will often go to a less expensive organization first and any payment goes directly into that medical organization to cover its operating costs such as medical equipment and vehicles; since the responders are not earning income, there is more money to put towards those costs.

We need to remember that First Aid Responders are there because they want to be. It may not their job, and they probably are not being paid, but they are passionate about what they are doing: being there for you if you need help and looking after you if you get hurt. So when you are handing out thank you’s at your next race, remember to wave to the bike patrol, or stop at the truck or medical tent. We all know that a thank you goes a long way. You might just make someone’s day.

Moving Forward

The marathon can be one of the most frustrating road events. I love the distance, the training that goes into it and the satisfaction from finishing. For the first time in many years, I changed my focus in this last training cycle from a time goal to simply finishing. I took on the “whatever it takes attitude” and I was winning. I was ready. Then the tides turned on me and derailed me during taper week, days before the Chicago marathon. Even then, I made it to the start and felt I could finish, albeit slowly. Instead, I finished one mile – one lousy mile.

I didn’t fail, but I didn’t do what I set out to do. Was I upset? Absolutely, and I was angry too, angry about the wasted time, effort and cost (in physio, chiropractic and osteo treatments). But I got over it, and now I move on.

Before I can do that, though, I have to get to the route of the problem. My hip buckled under me when I ran during taper week, and it did again on Sunday morning. This hasn’t happened before and it has become a cause for concern. Tammy the Hamstring may be playing her games again and partying it up with her friends, but my chiro suggested an x-ray to make sure that there isn’t a fracture.

On Friday night, Dave and I went to the hospital to learn that there isn’t an obvious fracture. The doctor suggested Advil (3 times a day), physiotherapy and a bone scan. (Why do doctors always recommend nothing but Advil and physiotherapy?). On Saturday morning, my chiro agreed that I should have a bone scan to look for a possible stress fracture. “With your high mileage, age, and frame,” he said, “I think it is a good idea.”

So now I wait. I have an appointment with my GP on the 23rd and will, hopefully, get some imaging done a week later. It’s frustrating as that means I probably won’t get results until a month after the first buckle.

In the meantime, I can continue to strengthen my muscles, try to get back on my bike and maybe, just maybe, get back into the pool. I may not be able to run, but I can take advantage of the time off running to do other things that I love, as well as focus on what I can do and work towards improvement.

Chiropractic Care and Running Injuries

I use to have a chiropractor who helped me with running aches and pains, usually my left SI joint or my right hamstring. When I had trouble with my back three years ago, though, he wasn’t able to help me at all; yet, he kept wanting me to go back for treatments. I turned to a physiotherapist who had a different approach and it ended up being the right one. I never did go back to that chiropractor.

This summer, I went through the reverse when Tammy the Hamstring acted up. I started with physiotherapy which just didn’t seem to be making any difference in how I felt. I called a friend to ask for her acupuncturist’s name, but she suggested that I see her chiropractor. “He’s really good,” she said. He knows muscles too.” So I took his name, googled him, read that he specializes in running and hockey injuries and had treated some high profile athletes including an Olympian sprinter. I picked up the phone and made an appointment to see him that week.

That Friday, Sandy treated me and gave me orders to run over the weekend, with a long warm-up and a gazillion lunges. And, since the run/walk combination had been too painful, he told me to just run very slowly. After my third visit with Sandy, my husband decided that he would run with me that night but he watched while I did my 6 sets of 60 lunges.

On the run home, Dave exclaimed, “Your form has completely changed!” I waited for the negative comments to follow, about how sore and lop-sided I looked, but instead he said, “It’s unbelievable! You are completely symmetrical! You’ve lost your funny kick. It’s absolutely incredible! Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

“Even though I am so slow?” I asked.

“You look great! It’s unreal!”

My husband is not one to hand out compliments, so I was shocked by his enthusiasm and support, as well as blown away by the almost instantaneous change that resulted from just a few chiropractic treatments. It was clear that this was the right therapy for me.

In the past week, I have had a setback, but Sandy’s treatments and fitness plan for me have been effective. I am in this for the long haul and am going to do whatever it takes to heal. Between Sandy and my coach, I know that I will be able to come back stronger and faster than before.

To anyone with an injury, this is my advice: don’t fixate on one type of treatment. What worked before may not another time so it is important to be open to new ideas. I went in for my first visit with a “let’s see how it goes” attitude and, to my surprise, it was the right solution. While I feel like I am back at square one, I have every confidence that chiropractic care will help me get to where I want to be.

Bravery

Many years ago, I told my youngest that he was brave. In his little boy mind, he didn’t understand so I explained that being brave means that you do something that you don’t want to do.

Yesterday, those words flew back to me when my friend, Wendy, posted that I was brave to stop running. I had thought my decision was tough, hard, smart and even courageous, but not once did I think of it as being brave. I know this seems odd when bravery and courage are synonyms, but “brave” is just that much more of a powerful word.

I thought back to that conversation I had with my youngest: being brave means doing something that you don’t want to do. I spent the past three months determined to start yesterday’s race and, in the past six weeks, I rebuilt my strength and endurance to start and finish. I was excited but also cautious that Tammy the Hamstring could make a reappearance. Sure enough, she did – and at the twelfth hour – but she also settled down enough to make me believe that I could run 26.2 miles.

Before the start of the Chicago Marathon

Yesterday, I was on my guard as I started the marathon and, barely ten minutes in, I stepped aside. I got on the sidewalk and I held myself together while I worked my way back to the hotel. Feeling like a failure, I didn’t want any attention but, ironically, I was upset that not one of the hundreds of spectators I saw asked if I was okay. I wanted to cry, but I had to be brave.

Wendy’s words helped me to realize that bravery was a huge part of this journey. I did what I had to do, not what I wanted to do. I am 55 and want to be running and racing competitively for many more. As I reflect on the past few months and set goals for the future, I know that there are going to be other tough decisions to make and I am prepared to face them.

It Just Wasn’t Meant To Be

Weeks ago, I took on the “whatever it takes attitude” in the hope that I would be able to toe the line at the Chicago Marathon. I saw an osteopath who worked some magic. I spent time with an acupuncturist who lessened the pain and improved the circulation in my glutes and hamstring. And I found a chiropractor who is a gift to runners.

Within weeks, my Chiro got me running from 2 miles a week at the end of August to ending my training with 40+ mile weeks. When I first saw him, it hurt to walk. Last Sunday, and the one before, I ran 18 miles relatively painfree. I had put in the time running, stretching, and strengthening, and I was ready for Chicago – not for a fast time but to finish what I started.

But you can’t underestimate the power of the marathon. During the final days of my taper, Tammy the Hamstring came back to visit and she was angry. On Wednesday night, Kelly-Lynne and I went out for an easy 6 mile run and, half-way through, I felt like my back thigh was bleeding internally. A bit later, I thought a knife ripped through my piriformis. Minutes later, Kelly-Lynne and I walked Tammy back home, with me holding back tears.

After two more visits to the chiropractor, who felt I was just having a muscle spasm, and an acupuncture treatment, all I could do was hold my breath and hope that I would be able to run. Tammy needed to settle down.

By last night, I felt much better. My leg had loosened up, and I made the decision to run slowly for the first six miles of today’s marathon and take it from there. I felt confident that I was going to be able to finish.

So this morning, I left my sleeping husband and boys at the hotel at 6:00 as I walked to the start. Tammy the Hamstring felt relaxed; she was back under control. At 8:00, we started to move to the start line and began our marathon. But just past the one mile point, I felt a twinge. Tammy had resurfaced.

It was only a few minutes longer before I realized that I wasn’t going to finish. I was prepared to walk the back end of the course but not 25 miles, and I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to run. So I called it a day.

It took almost an hour to get back to the hotel because of the road closures, and I watched runners and walkers of different sizes and speeds pass me. That was hard. I wondered whether I made the right decision until I hobbled back into the hotel lobby. It was clear that I made the best choice.

A nap, a snack and a lot of tears later, I am comfortable with my decision. I gave Chicago my best shot but finishing today just wasn’t in the cards. For whatever reason, this just wasn’t meant to be.

I am grateful for the optimism of my youngest who said, “Ya, but we’re in Chicago. At least, we get a holiday together.” And he is right. It is Canada’s Thanksgiving and I am thankful to be here with my husband and boys. In the end, this time together is what matters the most.