Boy, it has been a loooong time since my last blog post! Life seems to have gotten busy, but that doesn't mean I haven't been running! Truth is, I've been following the 18-week schedule for the Halifax Hypothermic Half Marathon, and we are now in week 10!
The training has been going pretty well. Unlike this summer, where I jumped in at week eight of the program after being off for two months following surgery, I've started at the beginning and have been focusing on building up my speed, endurance and strength by sticking to the program fairly rigorously. In fact, my tempo runs have improved from 5:59/km to around 5:39/km, while my steady runs have also improved so that a 6:03/km run now feels pretty comfortable.
Cross-training
I've also been building my strength base with GoodLife's Body Pump classes, along with quite a bit of yoga. It's so great when you're running and your legs just feel strong, and this combination of cross-training seems to work for me. Body Pump is a full-body strength workout with a barbell, and includes one track (song) of squats, and one of lunges, in addition to all the other major body groups. I can really feel the difference in my legs!
I also discovered that Halifax Yoga had a special on for new students: $20 for 10 days of unlimited yoga. I used that as an opportunity to check out the studio and its classes. It's amazing how different each studio is each from the other, and it took me a while to get used to this studio's style. However, within a few days, I noticed my hips opening up, and it felt fantastic! Running can be pretty brutal on your flexibility, if you don't maintain a rigorous stretching program.
Running in cooler weather is lovely
Starting the program in the fall meant I could avoid the hotter running conditions from the summer, and I've really noticed a difference. You can always dress warmer for the cold, but there's only so much cooler you can dress. However, this fall has been so unpredictable, with warmer days following cooler ones, that I've started wearing three different options in my gym bag each day, just in case the weather should be cooler or warmer than expected. Then again, living on the coast, you quickly learn that you can never predict the weather.
The other nice thing about running in cooler weather is that it gets you acclimatized to the winter weather, and makes sure you stay active throughout the holiday season.
Getting used to longer distances
Oh, the human mind is a funny thing. It doesn't matter how many half and full marathons I've run in the last four years, my brain seems to have short-term memory when it comes to long slow distances. For example, last Sunday was my first time running more than 10k in a couple of months. Unlike my 14k LSD last August, which was a sweaty torture from start to finish, this week I actually felt pretty good and maintained a fairly decent pace, up until km 8 or 9. It was at that point that my legs started getting heavier, and my brain started getting bored. I also didn't plan my route properly, so I ended up having to do loops around our neighbourhood for about 4kms, which got boring really fast.
By the end of the run, I was so mentally drained from my inner dialogue with myself about why I was keeping up the run when all I wanted to do was to be home, and home was so close, that when I walked in the door, I was a fuming mess, which hubby noticed. Smart man, he suggested that I go take a bath and relax, because I was so worked up.
Obviously, I've lost the knack for running those long distances - particularly on my own - and I'll have to learn the patience and endurance that I had built up before. I'll also try and kick myself out of bed sooner on Sunday mornings so that I can make it to the Running Room for Run Club. Running long distances alone can get rather...lonely.
Anyways, that's the long and short of it for now. I hope to start blogging more regularly again to track my progress, so stay tuned!
~ HRG
Showing posts with label patience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label patience. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Week 7 of recovery: I'm almost back!
I've been quiet for some time, namely because I've been recovering following my surgery (a myomectomy, which required an incision in my uterus and abdomen, not to mention messing up my stomach muscles -- leaving lots of scar tissue to start healing and strengthening again).
The surgeon and nurses had said that it would be six weeks until I could begin exercising and doing other household chores like laundry and washing the floors (hehe). I haven't done any of the latter yet, but just as soon as I could after the six week mark had passed, I headed to the gym. My husband asked "why so soon?" I think he was worried that I was heading out there too soon, but all I could say was that I was tired of doing nothing, and wanted to be back out there.
So last Saturday, I decided to hop on the stationary bike for 25 minutes, then do a bit of strength and upper core work. On the whole, it felt pretty good and there were no major mishaps.
On Monday and Tuesday, I attended my first Zumba classes since the surgery. Apart from feeling pretty wiped and not really able to give it my all like I usually do, I was pleased to be out there (despite being a little disheartened by how much weight I seemed to have put on in a month and a half of not working out).
Tuesday, after the second Zumba class, I was waiting to pick up my hubby from work and had some spare time on my hands. Given that I was still in my workout gear and in the vicinity of Rails to Trails (not to mention that it was a beautiful evening with the sun setting crimson and saffron in a rainbow-striped sky), I decided to do an easy mini jog along the trail.
So I headed out, with no Garmin and a little trepidatious about everything. I probably did about 200 metres, maybe 300, but I felt pretty good. That was the sign I needed that I was ready to head out again.
Saturday, I took my first yoga class and warned the instructor that I might be taking it easy as I'd just had surgery. I thought this was really important, since a lot of times the instructors may want to force me into a pose and I just didn't know how my body would handle it. Once again, I felt pretty good, but couldn't give it my all like I usually do, and had to take a few breaks in child's pose from time to time.
Saturday afternoon, I decided that I was going to try and head out for my first run. I laced on my shoes and put on my running gear (I've got to admit it's been kind of nice not having running clothes airing out in my closet every day), dropped the car at hubby's work, and started on a very slow run around the Commons.
My goal was to make it at least four kilometres before heading back to his work, but even at 800 metres, it was tough slogging. My breathing was laboured, my muscles were straining, and all I wanted to do was to quit and give up running altogether. I'm not kidding -- the thought that it would be so easy to just not push myself back into running crossed my mind more than once on that run. It felt like I was just starting out from scratch again, and that all of my work prior to the surgery had been lost.
But then I remembered how much satisfaction I get out of running, not to mention how it keeps me in shape and fitting into my clothes. I forced myself to remember that this was just another "day" like so many other days when I'd doubted myself.
I made it 3.8 kms, then walked back to the store and stretched, sweaty and out of breath.
When I complained to hubby that I'd found it difficult and I'd thought I could just head out on an easy four k run, he said, "Based on what?" It was true -- I'd done nothing for six weeks. What told me that I could simply head out and be a superstar again?
I realized that this was going to be a longer process than I had thought, even after weeks of being patient and taking it easy.
It could have been easy to fall into a slump and get disheartened, particularly because I definitely notice that the pounds have crept on and I'm not as strong as I was before surgery. But I've been working to remember that my body needed this time to heal (remember the sneeze incident?) and that eventually, if I persevere, I'll get back to where I was. And that quite possibly, I'm farther along in my recovery than I might have been if I hadn't been in good shape before surgery.
The nice thing about getting back into working out after not having worked out for some time is that you remember how hard you were working before, because your muscles ache in a way they don't usually when you're accustomed to working out. My shoulders and triceps ache now following yoga, but it's a good ache, if you know what I mean.
To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing now. There is relatively out there in terms of information for post-surgery recovery programs. I did, however find this site -- a support group for women who run, on Hyster Sisters. Not quite what I've gone through, but similar enough. The overwhelming message on the group is that each woman's healing process is individual, and that if you push yourself too hard too soon, you'll end up doing more harm than good. The good news is that many women report to being back to themselves (or better) a few months to a year following the surgery.
Tonight, I headed out for another run. My goal is to be able to run home again from hubby's work, which is about 5k. Initially though, I had no idea how I'd feel. I headed out the door, turned on my familiar running tunes, and ran up the hill (in our neighbourhood it's either uphill or downhill to start, and then uphill or downhill at least once or twice to finish -- good hill training!). The hill was tough, but by the time I made it down the first one and up the second, I was feeling a little more limber and had settled into a good breathing rhythm.
So instead of turning right onto our road and straight home, I decided to head down past Frog Pond, around to Williams Lake and home the long way.
Once I got back to the street closest to ours, I could have stopped. But I wanted to hit 5k. So I did a few more laps around the streets, breathing a little heavier now and tired in my legs from all those hills. But something told me that the only way to progress from 3.8k to 5k is to build on the distance, gradually day by day, with some rest days interspersed.
I made it to 5k and couldn't stop repeating it to hubby, who was patient with my incessant blabbing about how I'd just done 5k.
Really, I have no idea what I'm doing now, but my plan is to try and build on my weekly distances so I can run 7-8k easily, and build my long runs on Sunday gradually. I've let go of my initial pre-surgery goal of running a half in the fall, and I'm just going to see how the next few weeks go. If I'm feeling good, then maybe the Valley Half. If I'm still feeling weak, then maybe a 10 or 5k. It's all a game of wait and see right now -- and I'm getting pretty good at waiting and seeing!
~ HRG
The surgeon and nurses had said that it would be six weeks until I could begin exercising and doing other household chores like laundry and washing the floors (hehe). I haven't done any of the latter yet, but just as soon as I could after the six week mark had passed, I headed to the gym. My husband asked "why so soon?" I think he was worried that I was heading out there too soon, but all I could say was that I was tired of doing nothing, and wanted to be back out there.
So last Saturday, I decided to hop on the stationary bike for 25 minutes, then do a bit of strength and upper core work. On the whole, it felt pretty good and there were no major mishaps.
On Monday and Tuesday, I attended my first Zumba classes since the surgery. Apart from feeling pretty wiped and not really able to give it my all like I usually do, I was pleased to be out there (despite being a little disheartened by how much weight I seemed to have put on in a month and a half of not working out).
Tuesday, after the second Zumba class, I was waiting to pick up my hubby from work and had some spare time on my hands. Given that I was still in my workout gear and in the vicinity of Rails to Trails (not to mention that it was a beautiful evening with the sun setting crimson and saffron in a rainbow-striped sky), I decided to do an easy mini jog along the trail.
So I headed out, with no Garmin and a little trepidatious about everything. I probably did about 200 metres, maybe 300, but I felt pretty good. That was the sign I needed that I was ready to head out again.
Saturday, I took my first yoga class and warned the instructor that I might be taking it easy as I'd just had surgery. I thought this was really important, since a lot of times the instructors may want to force me into a pose and I just didn't know how my body would handle it. Once again, I felt pretty good, but couldn't give it my all like I usually do, and had to take a few breaks in child's pose from time to time.
Saturday afternoon, I decided that I was going to try and head out for my first run. I laced on my shoes and put on my running gear (I've got to admit it's been kind of nice not having running clothes airing out in my closet every day), dropped the car at hubby's work, and started on a very slow run around the Commons.
My goal was to make it at least four kilometres before heading back to his work, but even at 800 metres, it was tough slogging. My breathing was laboured, my muscles were straining, and all I wanted to do was to quit and give up running altogether. I'm not kidding -- the thought that it would be so easy to just not push myself back into running crossed my mind more than once on that run. It felt like I was just starting out from scratch again, and that all of my work prior to the surgery had been lost.
But then I remembered how much satisfaction I get out of running, not to mention how it keeps me in shape and fitting into my clothes. I forced myself to remember that this was just another "day" like so many other days when I'd doubted myself.
I made it 3.8 kms, then walked back to the store and stretched, sweaty and out of breath.
When I complained to hubby that I'd found it difficult and I'd thought I could just head out on an easy four k run, he said, "Based on what?" It was true -- I'd done nothing for six weeks. What told me that I could simply head out and be a superstar again?
I realized that this was going to be a longer process than I had thought, even after weeks of being patient and taking it easy.
It could have been easy to fall into a slump and get disheartened, particularly because I definitely notice that the pounds have crept on and I'm not as strong as I was before surgery. But I've been working to remember that my body needed this time to heal (remember the sneeze incident?) and that eventually, if I persevere, I'll get back to where I was. And that quite possibly, I'm farther along in my recovery than I might have been if I hadn't been in good shape before surgery.
The nice thing about getting back into working out after not having worked out for some time is that you remember how hard you were working before, because your muscles ache in a way they don't usually when you're accustomed to working out. My shoulders and triceps ache now following yoga, but it's a good ache, if you know what I mean.
To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing now. There is relatively out there in terms of information for post-surgery recovery programs. I did, however find this site -- a support group for women who run, on Hyster Sisters. Not quite what I've gone through, but similar enough. The overwhelming message on the group is that each woman's healing process is individual, and that if you push yourself too hard too soon, you'll end up doing more harm than good. The good news is that many women report to being back to themselves (or better) a few months to a year following the surgery.
Tonight, I headed out for another run. My goal is to be able to run home again from hubby's work, which is about 5k. Initially though, I had no idea how I'd feel. I headed out the door, turned on my familiar running tunes, and ran up the hill (in our neighbourhood it's either uphill or downhill to start, and then uphill or downhill at least once or twice to finish -- good hill training!). The hill was tough, but by the time I made it down the first one and up the second, I was feeling a little more limber and had settled into a good breathing rhythm.
So instead of turning right onto our road and straight home, I decided to head down past Frog Pond, around to Williams Lake and home the long way.
Once I got back to the street closest to ours, I could have stopped. But I wanted to hit 5k. So I did a few more laps around the streets, breathing a little heavier now and tired in my legs from all those hills. But something told me that the only way to progress from 3.8k to 5k is to build on the distance, gradually day by day, with some rest days interspersed.
I made it to 5k and couldn't stop repeating it to hubby, who was patient with my incessant blabbing about how I'd just done 5k.
Really, I have no idea what I'm doing now, but my plan is to try and build on my weekly distances so I can run 7-8k easily, and build my long runs on Sunday gradually. I've let go of my initial pre-surgery goal of running a half in the fall, and I'm just going to see how the next few weeks go. If I'm feeling good, then maybe the Valley Half. If I'm still feeling weak, then maybe a 10 or 5k. It's all a game of wait and see right now -- and I'm getting pretty good at waiting and seeing!
~ HRG
Sunday, June 12, 2011
On the path to recovery: week 1 complete. 5 more weeks to go!
My what a difference a few days can make! I feel like a completely different coloured snail compared to the one who posted only a few days ago!
In the last few days, I've been taking it easy, as promised. And I've started to see the results, bit by bit, day by day.
Yesterday, mom and I walked around most of the Halifax Seaport Farmer's Market -- North America's oldest farmer's market. Unfortunately hubby couldn't join us in relishing in the glorious sunshine, since he was working, but it seemed that most of the Saturday crowd had decided to head outside to soak up the rays, which means that the crowds had thinned out a little so the marked was easier to navigate. In any case, whether due to the positive energy of the Saturday morning crowd or the sun beaming down on Halifax yesterday, I felt like a completely different woman than I had only days ago, when I reported feeling quite sloth-like.
We wandered through many of the stalls, checking out the artisans' wares, and ran into my friend Dan of DC Art & Design at his stall where we chatted for awhile. Turns out he's started running too, from the second hill at Purcell's Cove, around the Frog Pond and then back to the hill. I have a sneaking suspicion I'll see him out at the races one of these days! Is it just me or is running kind of contagious?
After awhile, we lined up at the creperie for a couple of maple sugar crepes (not quite as good as I had expected -- I recommend the classic ham & cheese over these) and sat by the living wall, then bought a bottle of wine from Sainte Famille for my dad for Father's Day.
After all that, I felt like I had run 10k, so we returned home. This was a good reminder that not only am I not ready to start running again, I'm still just as thankful as ever for the great shape I was in before my surgery. And it's made me more determined than ever to get back there.
After a little siesta in the afternoon (napping is easy once you give in to the concept that it's a necessary part of healing and not just being lazy), we headed downtown to Spring Garden Road and into the Public Gardens, where it seemed like most of Halifax's promgoers had convened in their tuxes and princess dresses.
We bought an ice cream from Sugah and sat in the sun, marveling at how elaborate prom dresses have become (though I much prefer them to the short gowns we wore in the early nineties. If only we'd known!).
That was about all the activity I could handle for the day so I headed back home, but instead of hitting the sack at 9pm, I stayed up till 11!
It's amazing the little milestones you celebrate when you're on the path to recovery. Only a week ago, it was all I could do to sit up in my hospital bed, and I just about fainted when I walked the two feet from the bed to my chair, breaking out in a cold sweat in the process. Now I've managed to walk (more like meander) for about half an hour. Next week, I may make it around the block!
Today, the sun wasn't shining as bright;y but hubby was able to join us for brunch at Mix Fresh -- our final luncheon with mom before she returns home to Port Hope tomorrow, now that I'm on the road to recovery. As we headed back up the hill to our car, I joked that I almost felt good enough to return to work.
Except that when I got home, I napped for two and a half hours.
Not ready yet, I don't think. But I can feel myself getting stronger by the day. Much of this process is starting to feel like a Sunday long run. I can't remember the times when I dragged myself to the Running Room and forced myself through a run, knowing that it would pay off in the end but all the while willing myself not to stop and call a taxi. So often a long run is all about that -- patience and perseverance. And if you build a strong base through training, you'll thank yourself for it on race day.
This road to recovery is starting to feel the same way: I'm building my base now through patience and perseverance, gradually storing up my strength and increasing the distance and amount of activity I'm able to cover each day. I've come to accept that living slowly is a key part of the recovery process. And just when you're training, sometimes you push through the bad runs because you know the next one will be better, I'm sure there will be days in the coming weeks when all I want to do is say to heck with it and ignore the doctor's orders to take this time to heal.
But in the end, I'll cross the finish line to the all-clear, and you'll see me bounding through the streets of Halifax, my curly head bouncing in the breeze.
Week one of recovery is complete. Five more weeks to go!
~ HRG
Update: I just came back from a 2.5-k walk and didn't collapse! Yay! :D
In the last few days, I've been taking it easy, as promised. And I've started to see the results, bit by bit, day by day.
Yesterday, mom and I walked around most of the Halifax Seaport Farmer's Market -- North America's oldest farmer's market. Unfortunately hubby couldn't join us in relishing in the glorious sunshine, since he was working, but it seemed that most of the Saturday crowd had decided to head outside to soak up the rays, which means that the crowds had thinned out a little so the marked was easier to navigate. In any case, whether due to the positive energy of the Saturday morning crowd or the sun beaming down on Halifax yesterday, I felt like a completely different woman than I had only days ago, when I reported feeling quite sloth-like.
We wandered through many of the stalls, checking out the artisans' wares, and ran into my friend Dan of DC Art & Design at his stall where we chatted for awhile. Turns out he's started running too, from the second hill at Purcell's Cove, around the Frog Pond and then back to the hill. I have a sneaking suspicion I'll see him out at the races one of these days! Is it just me or is running kind of contagious?
After awhile, we lined up at the creperie for a couple of maple sugar crepes (not quite as good as I had expected -- I recommend the classic ham & cheese over these) and sat by the living wall, then bought a bottle of wine from Sainte Famille for my dad for Father's Day.
After all that, I felt like I had run 10k, so we returned home. This was a good reminder that not only am I not ready to start running again, I'm still just as thankful as ever for the great shape I was in before my surgery. And it's made me more determined than ever to get back there.
After a little siesta in the afternoon (napping is easy once you give in to the concept that it's a necessary part of healing and not just being lazy), we headed downtown to Spring Garden Road and into the Public Gardens, where it seemed like most of Halifax's promgoers had convened in their tuxes and princess dresses.
We bought an ice cream from Sugah and sat in the sun, marveling at how elaborate prom dresses have become (though I much prefer them to the short gowns we wore in the early nineties. If only we'd known!).
That was about all the activity I could handle for the day so I headed back home, but instead of hitting the sack at 9pm, I stayed up till 11!
It's amazing the little milestones you celebrate when you're on the path to recovery. Only a week ago, it was all I could do to sit up in my hospital bed, and I just about fainted when I walked the two feet from the bed to my chair, breaking out in a cold sweat in the process. Now I've managed to walk (more like meander) for about half an hour. Next week, I may make it around the block!
Today, the sun wasn't shining as bright;y but hubby was able to join us for brunch at Mix Fresh -- our final luncheon with mom before she returns home to Port Hope tomorrow, now that I'm on the road to recovery. As we headed back up the hill to our car, I joked that I almost felt good enough to return to work.
Except that when I got home, I napped for two and a half hours.
Not ready yet, I don't think. But I can feel myself getting stronger by the day. Much of this process is starting to feel like a Sunday long run. I can't remember the times when I dragged myself to the Running Room and forced myself through a run, knowing that it would pay off in the end but all the while willing myself not to stop and call a taxi. So often a long run is all about that -- patience and perseverance. And if you build a strong base through training, you'll thank yourself for it on race day.
This road to recovery is starting to feel the same way: I'm building my base now through patience and perseverance, gradually storing up my strength and increasing the distance and amount of activity I'm able to cover each day. I've come to accept that living slowly is a key part of the recovery process. And just when you're training, sometimes you push through the bad runs because you know the next one will be better, I'm sure there will be days in the coming weeks when all I want to do is say to heck with it and ignore the doctor's orders to take this time to heal.
But in the end, I'll cross the finish line to the all-clear, and you'll see me bounding through the streets of Halifax, my curly head bouncing in the breeze.
Week one of recovery is complete. Five more weeks to go!
~ HRG
Update: I just came back from a 2.5-k walk and didn't collapse! Yay! :D
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