3 posts tagged “injury”

The rubber has hit the road, and what a road it was! A drenched, soggy, slushy, puddle-filled road that stretched twenty-six miles but seemed like a million. But I’m going ahead of myself..

It’s been over a couple of weeks since the Miami Marathon, and I’m just writing this report.. Aside from being a rather reluctant runner, I’ve been somewhat reluctant blogger as well. Oh well. This blog post is a rather long one, if only for my own purposes.

The Preamble
For a race start of 6:10 am, you wake up at 3:30 or some such unearthly hour. Fortunately, I was helped by a trans-atlantic call from a friend. This is the time that I sleep most soundly. It is *not* a time for stretching, carb-loading, hot shower and rubbing the crusties out of your eyes, all of which I found myself doing. The excitement of it all was enough to wake me up. In retrospect, it was a good thing to have stretched this early, for as it turned out, all the heavens broke loose that morning.

It pours in Miami, something we all were aware of. Yet, nobody in the group thought of packing a poncho. After a quick gathering at 5 am, the entire group ambled its way a few blocks down to the American Airlines Arena in downtown. It was drizzling lightly; people huddled together under any available palm trees that gave them shelter. It was an odd sight. Runners dressed in all the running paraphernalia complete with accessories - headphones, waist pouches, water bottles, camel backs, caps, goggles, headbands, etc. Odd because it was still pitch dark, and now it started raining heavily.

Our running group went together to the starting point where large, black, stadium-sized speakers were playing music too loudly and a voice blared out exactly how exciting it was to be running on this exciting day. If anyone wasn’t awake by then, they surely were now, and quite annoyed, to boot. We had tacitly agreed to run together, so we stayed together. Still, it was hard to make out who was who. Almost everyone was dressed in yellow singlets, shorts or the orange-white t-shirt, and literally huddled together like shivering squirrels in a tropical rain. And what a downpour it was! For a moment, I thought I was back in the monsoon season in Bombay. Shirts soaked, socks soaked and whatever dryness one could salvage in this tropical rain was appropriately taken care of by the large puddles. In short, totally soaked shoes. If you’ve ever run while in shower, you’d know how it feels.

The Start

After what seemed like an interminable wait, the crowds began to move. Slowly at first. Soon we were over the MacArthur causeway that connects to Miami Beach. And what a sight it was! A sea of people crossing the ocean en masse in darkness. On the right several cruise liners stood tall and majestic, with their shimmering purple lights. The downtown skyline dotted the vista. The sheer energy of the moment was breathtaking. It made up for the early start, the rain and the hundreds of people crowing in front.

My group pretty much kept to the pace. We took our short walks at designated intervals and it seemed rather silly to be doing so when everyone was running. That was the plan and so it was. After about 20-30 minutes, the rain stopped. The official cap I was wearing was very handy in keeping the rain out of my face. It was good to be running.. it was just a tad cold, but not too much.

We weaved into Miami Beach. By the time we crossed mile 4, we were entering South Beach territory. SoBe looked a lot like Bombay. Lots of palm trees, high rises on one side, wide roads, and lots of people! Most of them had come out for cheering the runners. Water stands were crowded, with hundreds of paper and plastic cups littering the road. Runners waiting in line for the port-a-loos or jiffy-johns; some smalls bands playing in one corner. Others singing or loudly cheering. It looked like a festival of people with us starring. It looked a little bizarre.

Bizarrer still was a sight to behold. Four ladies dressed in nothing but near-nude glittering, shimmering dancing clothes — if one could call them those — doing a Rio-style samba to a catchy tune. That put a extra spring in the step. M, one of the group’s more vocal members, shouted “Yeah, now that’s entertainment. We need them at every mile!”. I shook my head. Where in the world could you find samba dancers at 7 in the morning?

Such happy thoughts abounded until we reached mile 10 on the Venetian Causeway, heading back into Miami area. Energy was still high, and it was time to do the next 10 miles. Change of pace to a slightly faster one.

The Pain

By this time the sun was out and it was getting hot. We doused ourselves with water to keep our bodies cool. It was now quite fun to do that. Yet, the shoes were still soggy from soaked socks. I felt a pain in my toes as they bumped against the front of the shoes. The 2-week old shoes were slightly loose, and the soggy socks had made it difficult to maintain proper traction. As a result my feet kept sliding inside the shoes.

A couple of miles along the way, a pain shot up my right knee. I stopped, felt the knee. It looked all right. I stretched for a moment and ran again. It was nearing the half-marathon mark. Bands played tunes, people cheered in the streets. Susan’s family showed up to cheer. Her brother had a couple of bags of salty chips and all of us quickly snatched handfuls of it, thankful for some food other than the sweet gu. It was a big outdoor party.

The road split into two: the left for half-marathoners, straight for the full. Soon after the split, it seemed only a handful of people remained in the race. It looked as if the race dried up. My right knee / leg ached again. I slowed down, then picked up speed again. I was running without a running watch (!) so had to rely on others for pace info.

Another couple of miles later, the pain got worse. I stopped for a minute, and stretched. The knee flexed correctly; nothing seemed broken, so I started slowly. Each step felt like a struggle. The left leg seemed perfect, just the right one had some trouble. Managing to run slower, I signaled the group to go ahead and ran behind, slower.

The right leg, which had been aching a couple of weeks before even if mildly so, had been a bit of a trouble. I was hoping it would behave, and so had reduced my exercise intensity to pretty much light cross-training for a couple of weeks during the taper phase. Now these cramps and aches were the last thing I needed.

After another couple of miles or so, it was quite painful. I found it hard to run, although walking was okay. So I decided to fast-walk, and get some rest. Thinking about it still raises my heart beat now. Pretty soon I met with Laura, also in the pace group, who had troubles with her left leg. We fast-walked for a bit, then ran-walked when possible. By this time, we were in the massive residential areas of south Miami.

South Miami looks distinctly like Bombay, except the houses are bigger.. more like small mansions. Big driveways adorned with crisply cut grass, dotted with palm trees, large and small. Characteristically, many of the “suburban” folks had come out of their houses and were cheering from their front verandas. One little girl - 5 or 6 - offered bottled water. When we politely declined, being well inebriated at water stops earlier, she complained to her mother: “I told you, nobody is buying our water!”, and stomped away.

I was dying for some salt. All my salt packets had withered in the morning rain. I asked coach Fred, whom we saw at some mile marker, and he could only spare one little pack. Oh, well. By this time Betsy, who herself had some cramps in her legs, had joined us.

After what seemed like an interminable million miles, we were nearing the end. Just before the last few hundred yards, there is a little bridge you cross to get to the finish line. It seemed like a cruel joke to place the bridge near the end, on an otherwise flat course.

I managed to run the last few hundred yards, with each step seemingly sending a dagger through the heart. We could hear the group cheering by the sidelines. That always puts a smile on the face… And thus it was over, after some 6+ hours.

***

As the Bard (almost) said, All’s well that ends… I couldn't agree more.

In retrospect, there are several things I could have done differently, apart from running in the rain. I’ll save those for another post. For now, I’m happy to have finished it!

On to other targets...

What do you get when you mix 20 degree temperatures with 25 mile per hour winds and a hundred crazy runners? Some really frozen, foul-mouthed runners.

Yesterday we had the coldest run of the season. After being spoilt  every Saturday with unseasonably warm weather - and one almost simulating the 70 degrees we expect in Miami - Mother Nature probably thought it wisest to teach us a lesson. All talks of global warming disappeared like the melting glaciers of Greenland. Instead, all one could talk was the snow storm in Colorado, the fall in Malibu (for heaven's sake!) and how great it would be to be in Miami next weekend.

Yesterday's run was a short, 8-mile recovery run. Recovering from the previous 23 mile run of a couple of weekends ago. As runs go, this was about as routine as all the others. Except for the cold bit. The winds swept mightily, causing fierce amounts of cussing on part of the runners. On such a cold day, one is advised to protect the extremities and reduce the chances of losing heat by wearing gloves, a protection for the head, ears and neck. I only had a pair of gloves and a headband / ear cover, and made a makeshift neck warmer using a spare headband.

In such a cold weather, it's important to warm up properly or else muscles stiffen up. Having barely stretched properly, it was hard to listen to the morning prep talk when the winds picked up speed. All one could think of was to get on with the run, get warm and go home. And as it happened, it snowed during run!  Light snow flakes, but snow none the less. It looked pretty for a while, but the snow melted quickly. At the four-mile turn around point near the Potomac after crossing the Pegasus bridge, the strong winds almost swept us away from the course. The choppy green waters of the  dirty Potomac looked quite menacing, and for once, I was in a hurry to run faster and get it over with quickly. As it happened, my right leg had different plans.

The muscles of my right leg stiffened up and ached. I ran slower, stretched a bit and came back to the home base slower than expected. It's not aching badly, just a little. My right IT band isn't exactly happy right now. I'm doing some suggested stretching and strengthening exercises, both for the leg and for the back. I hope these exercises will help do their bit.

As I write this in the local Panera Bread sipping hot chai, it is snowing outside. The first big snow of the season in DC. Reminds me of my days in Boston, where this would have been regular occurrence, and weeks ago in the season.

Next up - strategy for conserving energy and running the marathon on the D-day...

Reluctant runner has been a trifle reluctant in blogging as well.

Last weekend's 23 mile run was a tough one. Hot weather, a slip-and-fall injury and some random things made it a tougher run. To start with, weather was in the 70s (in January!), simulating the run conditions in Miami, I guess. As if that wasn't bad enough, I forgot my face towel, so I tasted my own sweat a million times during the run. Still worse, I made a strategic error in not wearing shorts. The long leg warmer / sports pants helped during the initial 10 minutes when it was cool, but for most of the run it was a drag. But, I'm running ahead of myself.

We gathered early - at 7ish - for the run. Much pep talk followed on how to do this run. Having finished the 20 miles, most people were totally psyched out. Still, enthusiasm ran high. More talk followed on proper hydration, salt intake, Gu and energy gel intake, and all that. By the time everyone came together, it was 8.20ish already. Having spent more than an hour early in the morning wasn't exactly a fun thing and people were raring to go. That was a strategic mistake...

Most of us ran fast in first half, despite being told to reduce the pace by 1-2 minutes per mile. Physically, it is well near impossible to run much slower than your natural running pace for a long time. One feels like running in slo-mo, taking one exaggerated step after another. The ground was slick from the rain the previous night. As soon as we crossed the reflecting pool near the Capitol Hill (1 mile mark), I slipped and fell. I felt flustered. Pace group runners looked on concerned, perhaps wondering if one of them would have to stay behind with me, as Designated Drivers are supposed to do. And *I* happened to be one of the DDs that day. Right knee had a skin lesion, and a little blood oozed out. My palms, which took the fall, were hurting a bit but were fine.  It wasn't bad, actually, so I ran albeit a bit more cautiously.

Long runs can be boring, as we've discovered. So new games were played, different versions of the name game, with celebrity names, movie names, etc. The run took us way into Maryland territory on the Crescent trail. For a while, I thought we'd cross into Delaware and make way into New York. Thankfully, these were only idle thoughts on a hot, muggy, day. The turn-around point was mile-marker 4 on trail (somewhere near the crossing of Dorset Ave and Crescent trail).

The return half felt tough. A bunch of people in the pace group raced ahead. I stayed behind with 2-3  runners, one of them from the Sunday training group. Salt, gu, pretzels, gels and water was consumed regularly. Feeling no cramps, we trudged along. Raj, from the Sunday group, stayed behind to join the other Salazar A pace group. We, the Salazar B group, should have been running at the same pace, but some enterprising and enthusiastic runners took the lead early, causing an almost 10 minute gap between the two groups. It might have been a better strategy to stick with the Salazar A group, but I was now squarely between the B and A groups.

And so it was - one hard step after another. I was now almost isolated from the pace group, right near the Georgetown / M. St area. Not possessing a running watch, I could only approximate the run:walk intervals. And so I did. With just about 5 miles remaining, it felt like a long run. Still, as it happens when you are familiar with the route, every step brings the milestones closer. 4 miles remaining near the Pegasus bridge, 3 miles at the intersection of 19th and Constitution, 2 miles near Smithsonian Natural history.

Finally, at the 1 mile mark, I met a whole bunch of staggering runners, those who had paced fast early in the run. Some were struggling, others walking, still others hobbling. Alternating between the three like others, I finally reached the finish point.

The best part of the finish was the cheering that people did. "Come on, almost there!", clapped those who had finished earlier and were waiting. A smile automagically spread on my face... It felt great to finish at long last!

Treats awaited everyone. Plenty of peanut-butter, jam sandwiches, oranges, gatorade, bananas and such were to be had. My legs were aching, but not as much as I was fearing. The injury seemed marginal now. There was only a feeling of accomplishment, even if minor..

In retrospect, plenty of things could have been different. But I'll save them for another day. Another day, when the writer is not feeling as reluctant...