For tonight's tempo run I had arranged to meet my running buddy Kate downtown after work and then we'd head out for a 6k tempo together. So after work, I checked the weather, put on my gear, said goodbye to hubby and headed out the door.
But when I turned on the car, I realized that I'd forgotten a key part of my equipment: a warm jacket for after the run. I ran inside quickly, grabbed my ski jacket, then headed back out.
It brought home an important point about running, which follows a bit from yesterday's post about taking rest days to allow your body to recover from long runs or arduous workouts.
It's what you do immediately following a winter run that is just as important as the run itself. In addition to making sure you get in a good post-run stretch, after any winter run you'll make sure you plan for things like:
- dry, warm clothes to change into after your run (even if you're just driving right back home), since the body cools down quickly after running outside in the cold for some time (think of packing at least a jacket, and/or sweater, hat and mitts/gloves);
- proper hydration immediately after the run, and then sipping on water for the next few hours until your urine runs clear again;
- a good post-run recovery snack (I like to have a chocolate-banana or strawberry-banana shake right after the run, or even just chocolate milk and chips for the salt);
- a good post-run recovery meal within an hour/hour and a half of your run (I like things like pizza, burgers or chicken burgers, but the Hypo Half brunch of eggs, sausages and hashbrowns is also great)
- once you get back home or to your hotel room, run an Epsom salt bath (warm, but not too hot) - I'm sorry but I just will not do an ice bath in the middle of winter!
Thinking about these things is important as you plan for race day, because you'll need to consider them in the things you pack and prepare in your bags the night before race day. As you look ahead to race day, start thinking not only about what you'll pack for the race itself, but also start making a list of things to pack in your post-race bag.
Trust me - once you cross that finish line, you may be tired, warm and exhausted, but it won't take long for your body to cool down and start stiffening up, at which point you'll be glad you have your post-race bag with you!
What things do you include in your post-run/race bag? Share your tips here!
- HRG
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Monday, August 1, 2011
Yoga glow, handstands and Natal Day 8k run!
This recovery has been one of learning about patience and believing -- believing that no matter how difficult things may seem, they will get better. It's also been one of taking lessons learned from different times and places, and applying them to this long learning process. It's been one of learning not only about my body, but about myself as an athlete and person.
And this week, I felt like I accomplished a few major milestones in my recovery. I finally feel able to put in place a tentative fall race goal. More on that race goal later.
Although last week my belly was a little sore and swollen after Zumba, I decided to head to the Park Lane Good Life to see if I could make it through the whole hour of yoga. I'd also been feeling tired the last few days, perhaps because I'd forgotten to take my iron pills. But I was tired of doing nothing so I decided to see what I could do.
Perhaps it was because Jason slowed things down since there were a few beginners in the class, or perhaps because I'm getting stronger, but nevertheless I felt like I had much more stamina and energy this week as we flowed through the poses.
Focusing on my breath, I was in the zone, flowing from one position to the next. By the end of the hour, I felt cleansed. As we said Namaste, I thanked myself that I'd taken this time to practise on that day. I headed out of there, my mat slung over my shoulder and a satisfied glow within.
After that success, I felt emboldened. Yesterday, after a great day hanging out with hubby on the Eastern Passage, I decided to head to Ashtanga Yoga Shala and try an hour-and-a-half-long Karma class. I figured if worst came to worse, I would hang out in child's pose for most of the class if it got too difficult.
Walking up the stairs to the Shala, I was more than a little nervous. Guylaine's Karma class is a tough one to keep up with, and she can be pretty ruthless. I was worried that she'd try to force me into poses I wasn't ready for and I wouldn't be able to keep up.
But then when I got into the studio, there was no trace of Guylaine. Instead, Seth was there. And anyone who's taken classes with Seth knows -- he's even more ruthless and focused than Guylaine. Just a few minutes with either of them is enough to turn me from a confident yogi into a self-doubting one...Which according to them is probably a healthy approach to yoga in any case.
So I unrolled my mat, took a seat and waited to see what Seth had in store for us. The studio was uncommonly empty for a Sunday, and I wondered if most of the class had headed east to Moncton for the U2 concert.
A few minutes later, Seth came in, turning on the lights and taking a seat on the stairs.
"So - do you want fast, or slow this week?" he asked. Most of the class was quiet, although there were a few inaudible mumbles from the far corner of the room.
I didn't say anything. Last week I'd warned Robert that I was still recovering from surgery and wanted to play things by ear, and he respected it (sometimes instructors feel compelled to push me into poses and I didn't want that to happen). But around Seth, I felt a little shy -- or perhaps intimidated. He's pretty intense. Again, I figured if need be, I'd take a breather and hang out in child's pose if things were too tough.
"No one? Ok well then we'll just do handstands all class. I'm not kidding," he said.
He wasn't kidding.
Bear in mind that I hadn't done a handstand in at least 10 years, even though I'd been a recreational competitive gymnast and coach for almost 10 years.
Bear in mind that I'd had pretty serious surgery about two months ago.
I was nervous. As I breathed in and out through my nose and settled into a few sun salutations, I wondered whether this had been a good idea. Maybe I should roll up my mat and walk out.
Then again...Who knows what I could do?
So I stayed.
Soon enough, we progressed from sun salutations to deep groin stretches, and then...
Handstands against the wall.
But I was determined not to be the one who walked out. Thank goodness for self-imposed peer pressure.
In the end, I ended up doing handstands against the wall for 5, 10, 15 breaths as Seth worked us through a series of poses meant to stretch our groins (how handstands were doing this, I wasn't sure, as I breathed into my shoulders, which were quaking with the effort. However, I tried to remain up as long as I could given that I was one of only a couple of girls hanging out in the full pose. Yes, I'm competitive).
It was a tough class. It was at times a painful class -= as classes with Seth tend to be. But I did it. Once again, I left with a tiny little glow of self-satisfaction. I felt like my recovery was looking up, although my shoulders would be sore in the morning.
Yet today, surprisingly, my shoulders weren't sore. I was encouraged.
Although today was Natal Day and Nova Scotians should be taking the day off to celebrate our province's origins, my poor hubby had to work. So after dropping him off at work, I decided to try and head out for another run, albeit a slow one.
It was hot, so I spent most of my run darting from one shaded area on the sidewalk to the next. Part of me was glad that I'd missed so much of the summer's hottest days. I typically tend to be a hot runner, so I don't perform well on warm days.
Anyways, I did it. I ran 8k today in 10:1s. My pace slowed considerably by the end of the run, but I didn't let it get me down.
Something Seth said in class yesterday while I was upside down in handstand resonated with me today as my Garmin ticked from 6.99 kms through to 7.00 as I crested the long gradual incline next to the Public Gardens:
"Your leg may not be as far down as the person beside you, but that's ok." I think that's what he said...something akin to "It's not a competition. It's just about you." (I was upside-down and focusing on not falling, so not all of what he said stayed with me, but the message did).
And unless you're an Olympic athlete, I realized that's just as true for running as it is for yoga.
So while I could have been disheartened that once again this run was slower and harder than I would have liked, and that friends I used to train with would have smoked me today, instead I focused on my own little accomplishments.
Today, 8k, next week - 10 or 12?
And this October, who knows -- maybe the Valley Half?
But for now, I'm content to take it one day at a time; one step at a time; one little success at a time.
~ HRG
And this week, I felt like I accomplished a few major milestones in my recovery. I finally feel able to put in place a tentative fall race goal. More on that race goal later.
Although last week my belly was a little sore and swollen after Zumba, I decided to head to the Park Lane Good Life to see if I could make it through the whole hour of yoga. I'd also been feeling tired the last few days, perhaps because I'd forgotten to take my iron pills. But I was tired of doing nothing so I decided to see what I could do.
Perhaps it was because Jason slowed things down since there were a few beginners in the class, or perhaps because I'm getting stronger, but nevertheless I felt like I had much more stamina and energy this week as we flowed through the poses.
Focusing on my breath, I was in the zone, flowing from one position to the next. By the end of the hour, I felt cleansed. As we said Namaste, I thanked myself that I'd taken this time to practise on that day. I headed out of there, my mat slung over my shoulder and a satisfied glow within.
After that success, I felt emboldened. Yesterday, after a great day hanging out with hubby on the Eastern Passage, I decided to head to Ashtanga Yoga Shala and try an hour-and-a-half-long Karma class. I figured if worst came to worse, I would hang out in child's pose for most of the class if it got too difficult.
Walking up the stairs to the Shala, I was more than a little nervous. Guylaine's Karma class is a tough one to keep up with, and she can be pretty ruthless. I was worried that she'd try to force me into poses I wasn't ready for and I wouldn't be able to keep up.
But then when I got into the studio, there was no trace of Guylaine. Instead, Seth was there. And anyone who's taken classes with Seth knows -- he's even more ruthless and focused than Guylaine. Just a few minutes with either of them is enough to turn me from a confident yogi into a self-doubting one...Which according to them is probably a healthy approach to yoga in any case.
So I unrolled my mat, took a seat and waited to see what Seth had in store for us. The studio was uncommonly empty for a Sunday, and I wondered if most of the class had headed east to Moncton for the U2 concert.
A few minutes later, Seth came in, turning on the lights and taking a seat on the stairs.
"So - do you want fast, or slow this week?" he asked. Most of the class was quiet, although there were a few inaudible mumbles from the far corner of the room.
I didn't say anything. Last week I'd warned Robert that I was still recovering from surgery and wanted to play things by ear, and he respected it (sometimes instructors feel compelled to push me into poses and I didn't want that to happen). But around Seth, I felt a little shy -- or perhaps intimidated. He's pretty intense. Again, I figured if need be, I'd take a breather and hang out in child's pose if things were too tough.
"No one? Ok well then we'll just do handstands all class. I'm not kidding," he said.
He wasn't kidding.
Bear in mind that I hadn't done a handstand in at least 10 years, even though I'd been a recreational competitive gymnast and coach for almost 10 years.
Bear in mind that I'd had pretty serious surgery about two months ago.
I was nervous. As I breathed in and out through my nose and settled into a few sun salutations, I wondered whether this had been a good idea. Maybe I should roll up my mat and walk out.
Then again...Who knows what I could do?
So I stayed.
Soon enough, we progressed from sun salutations to deep groin stretches, and then...
Handstands against the wall.
But I was determined not to be the one who walked out. Thank goodness for self-imposed peer pressure.
In the end, I ended up doing handstands against the wall for 5, 10, 15 breaths as Seth worked us through a series of poses meant to stretch our groins (how handstands were doing this, I wasn't sure, as I breathed into my shoulders, which were quaking with the effort. However, I tried to remain up as long as I could given that I was one of only a couple of girls hanging out in the full pose. Yes, I'm competitive).
It was a tough class. It was at times a painful class -= as classes with Seth tend to be. But I did it. Once again, I left with a tiny little glow of self-satisfaction. I felt like my recovery was looking up, although my shoulders would be sore in the morning.
Yet today, surprisingly, my shoulders weren't sore. I was encouraged.
Although today was Natal Day and Nova Scotians should be taking the day off to celebrate our province's origins, my poor hubby had to work. So after dropping him off at work, I decided to try and head out for another run, albeit a slow one.
It was hot, so I spent most of my run darting from one shaded area on the sidewalk to the next. Part of me was glad that I'd missed so much of the summer's hottest days. I typically tend to be a hot runner, so I don't perform well on warm days.
Anyways, I did it. I ran 8k today in 10:1s. My pace slowed considerably by the end of the run, but I didn't let it get me down.
Something Seth said in class yesterday while I was upside down in handstand resonated with me today as my Garmin ticked from 6.99 kms through to 7.00 as I crested the long gradual incline next to the Public Gardens:
"Your leg may not be as far down as the person beside you, but that's ok." I think that's what he said...something akin to "It's not a competition. It's just about you." (I was upside-down and focusing on not falling, so not all of what he said stayed with me, but the message did).
And unless you're an Olympic athlete, I realized that's just as true for running as it is for yoga.
So while I could have been disheartened that once again this run was slower and harder than I would have liked, and that friends I used to train with would have smoked me today, instead I focused on my own little accomplishments.
Today, 8k, next week - 10 or 12?
And this October, who knows -- maybe the Valley Half?
But for now, I'm content to take it one day at a time; one step at a time; one little success at a time.
~ HRG
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 26, 2011
On the path to recovery: week 3 of 6 complete...back to work, and a green light to excercising!
That's right, I'm back at it! Although the nurses and surgeon had told me I'd need to wait six weeks to return to work, exercise, house cleaning and other activities, it's been only three weeks since my surgery and I'm feeling pretty good.
This week, I returned to work part-time, from home. Although my brain wasn't able to keep up with some of the longer conference calls, and I did need to lie down every so often for quick power naps, on the whole I felt fine. It's nice to be productive and contributing to something meaningful. There's only so much daytime TV and reading I can handle before I start getting bored!
I also had my post-op consultation this week, and my surgeon told me I was healing well, and gave me the green light to start exercising again...slowly. I was over the moon!
So on Thursday, with the sun shining down on Halifax and the ocean sparkling, I laced on my shoes and headed out for a short run. The first half was mostly downhill, which was a nice warmup. I didn't feel any pain, although I could tell that my muscles needed some loosening up from not having been worked in some time.
I made it down the hill, then turned the corner for a gradual incline to the main road. I could definitely feel the exertion there! By the time I made it to Herring Cove and crossed the street to Tim Horton's, I was starting to huff and puff, and I was done.
As I walked home, my Tim Horton's tea in one hand and a bagel in the other, I realized once again what great mental training long-distance running is -- pushing through those long runs on days when you'd rather be lounging on the sofa teaches you to learn patience, and optimism. Because there's always a better run after a bad one, and in the end, after weeks of training, you're standing on the starting line among hundreds or thousands of other runners and feeling the buzz of excitement.
So although I could have been disappointed that I'd only made it about 1 to 1.5 kilometres, I focused on being happy that I was out there, three weeks sooner than I'd planned. And that means the recovery will happen that much sooner.
I plan to start incorporating various forms of cross-training into my recovery plan this week, including yoga and stationary cycling. I'm also on the lookout for post-op recovery programs.
And this afternoon, I'll pull on my workout gear, and either head out for another short run -- to the end of the block, the neighbourhood, or wherever I can manage.
~ HRG
HRG addendum: No sooner had I published this post, than I slipped on my new running shorts, running top and laced on my shoes. I headed out the door for what I thought would be an easy 3k loop near home, but 500 metres in, my incision started to hurt. By around 1k I decided to walk and see if it would ease up, but it appeared my run was done for the day. A good reminder that I am not Superwoman and to take it easy! Maybe the surgeon was right about the whole six weeks thing...Will take it day by day.
This week, I returned to work part-time, from home. Although my brain wasn't able to keep up with some of the longer conference calls, and I did need to lie down every so often for quick power naps, on the whole I felt fine. It's nice to be productive and contributing to something meaningful. There's only so much daytime TV and reading I can handle before I start getting bored!
I also had my post-op consultation this week, and my surgeon told me I was healing well, and gave me the green light to start exercising again...slowly. I was over the moon!
So on Thursday, with the sun shining down on Halifax and the ocean sparkling, I laced on my shoes and headed out for a short run. The first half was mostly downhill, which was a nice warmup. I didn't feel any pain, although I could tell that my muscles needed some loosening up from not having been worked in some time.
I made it down the hill, then turned the corner for a gradual incline to the main road. I could definitely feel the exertion there! By the time I made it to Herring Cove and crossed the street to Tim Horton's, I was starting to huff and puff, and I was done.
As I walked home, my Tim Horton's tea in one hand and a bagel in the other, I realized once again what great mental training long-distance running is -- pushing through those long runs on days when you'd rather be lounging on the sofa teaches you to learn patience, and optimism. Because there's always a better run after a bad one, and in the end, after weeks of training, you're standing on the starting line among hundreds or thousands of other runners and feeling the buzz of excitement.
So although I could have been disappointed that I'd only made it about 1 to 1.5 kilometres, I focused on being happy that I was out there, three weeks sooner than I'd planned. And that means the recovery will happen that much sooner.
I plan to start incorporating various forms of cross-training into my recovery plan this week, including yoga and stationary cycling. I'm also on the lookout for post-op recovery programs.
And this afternoon, I'll pull on my workout gear, and either head out for another short run -- to the end of the block, the neighbourhood, or wherever I can manage.
~ HRG
HRG addendum: No sooner had I published this post, than I slipped on my new running shorts, running top and laced on my shoes. I headed out the door for what I thought would be an easy 3k loop near home, but 500 metres in, my incision started to hurt. By around 1k I decided to walk and see if it would ease up, but it appeared my run was done for the day. A good reminder that I am not Superwoman and to take it easy! Maybe the surgeon was right about the whole six weeks thing...Will take it day by day.
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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