Keep going? Or not?

Yesterday Hubby and I went for a "hike" (ok, a glorified off-road walk) at the University of West Florida cross-country trails. These signs were my favorite part of the adventure:

Caution: You may encounter poisonous snakes
and alligators in this area.

We saw fish, turtles, squirrels (including an albino squirrel!) and birds... but no gators or snakes. I'm a little bummed about that. I live in a swamp, yet the only gator I've ever seen in the wild was in South Carolina!

How often do you get to go for a walk or run where the wildlife might eat you?

Today was our scheduled long-run day in preparation for an upcoming half marathon. Hubby knocked out exactly 13.1 miles. I, on the other hand, had "issues."

I have been trying to ignore nagging hip pain on my runs for the past couple of weeks, but this morning the offending hip was worse. I stretched and foam-rolled before the run. Yet the hip didn't ease up after the first 15 minutes of running like it usually does. So I had an epic "should I keep going or not?" battle raging in my head for nearly two hours.

My run / don't run brain fought like these sea lions...

Keep going: Run my planned 12 miles, despite the hip pain.
Not: Risk aggravating what is clearly an injury.
Keep going: Suck it up. After all: No pain. No gain.
Not: Skip my 12 today, hit the foam roller, and try again tomorrow.
Keep going: There is only one more long run between now and the race. This is crucial training time!
Not: You might not be able to race at all if you make this injury worse.
Keep going: You're being a wuss!
Not: You'd be stupid to push this! This isn't just tired muscles!

You know it's bad when your mind starts calling itself names...

And, of course, this debate was in full swing as I was out on the road slogging along. (Do as I say, not as I do?)

In the end I decided on a middle-of-the-road course of action. When the hip showed no signs of loosening up, I adopted a run 10 / walk 5 strategy. (And yes, I am ashamed to admit, on my running blog, that I walked so much of my morning "run." I am also embarrassed to admit that I continued running when I probably should not have...) I finished something closer to 9 miles than the planned 12.

Over post-run breakfast, Hubby and I were debating the "should haves" again. His perspective was:

"If you had asked me this three years ago, I'd have said 'suck it up.' But now I know powering through can make things worse, so I'd say 'this won't be a PR race for you anyway, so you risk more with injury than with miles at this point'."

That perspective should make me feel better... but I still feel like a wuss for my poor performance this morning.

And yet I also worry that I pushed too hard this morning for "junk" miles when I should have just called today a rest day and tried again tomorrow.

ARGH!!!

Maybe I'll go back to focusing on 5ks...

Do you ease up when you feel joint pain, or do you push through it?
Do you feel nagging guilt when you cut a run short?


Photo (of sea lions) courtesy of Liz Noffsinger / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

In the long run

Yesterday's half-marathon training long run went off without a hitch. Well, ok. There was one hitch. Hubby and I started about an hour later than we intended to, but we'll just call that "replicating race conditions" (the half will start later than we'd like) and move on.

I've been running my long runs without music for the past couple of months because #1 - in Florida heat I sweat so much I'd short out my iPod, and #2 - my iPod hasn't been holding a charge for more than half an hour anyway. (I don't know about you, but I can't run 10-15 miles in 30 minutes. If I could, I'm pretty sure being faster than Usain Bolt would have gotten me a Nike sponsorship and a wall full of Olympic medals by now...)

Yesterday I decided to give the ol' mp3 player one last chance, and a good, long overnight charge. It must have worked because both my tunes and I lasted through 95 minutes of humid, shade-less, coastal trail running.

This morning my quads and ankles feel like someone whacked them with a tire iron (result of a long run on uneven terrain and soft sand) but it's that "good ache" that tells me I pushed my boundaries yesterday. I just wish I recovered as quickly as I did 10 years ago! (Cue clairvoyant voice: I see more ice baths and foam rollers in your future...)

Hubby finished his run before me (no great shock there) and snapped pics of me at the finish. This is the least unflattering of them (which is saying something about what I look like after a long run). But hey, at least I finished strong, right?

My favorite song from the run: Silversun Pickups "Growing Old is Getting Old" which came on in my last couple of miles. (Confession: I played it 3 times in a row.) Aging + running is definitely a theme from this weekend, but more on that later...

What song motivates you most at the end of a long run?

Have you noticed any changes in your running (or recovery) as you've gotten older?

Massage addict

Hi, My name is Beth. I am a massage addict.

(The first step is to admit you have a problem, right?)

But here's the thing: I don't think massage addiction is a problem.
(Cue collective 12-step groan.)

I have been a massage-per-month girl for almost as long as I've been a runner. It started when I was experiencing stiffness in my shoulders (job induced) that slowed my swimming pace. I had a triathlon coming up, and decided to see if massage might help my aching shoulders. I found a clinic that specialized in sports massage, and have never looked back.

The worst massages were just boring. The most interesting, and quite possibly the most effective, was a Thai-style massage that involved quite a bit of active stretching (fully clothed through the whole routine). The therapist bent me into pretzel shapes that would have made my yoga teacher proud, and pulled my limbs to stretch them out. I would not call it "relaxing" but it was definitely rejuvenating! The next day I knocked a good 20 seconds off my mile pace. (It's just too bad the speedy side effects didn't last long!)

All in all, the best massages have left me feeling like I had an extra spring in my step.

After all, that's how addiction starts: It feels good, so you go back for more.

Any other massage addicts out there?
How many of you get massages on a regular basis?

Granted, if you've never had a massage before, the whole process can be a little intimidating. I am embarrassed to admit that I went in to my first massage wearing a one-piece bathing suit, because I wasn't sure what to expect. I had seen photos of relaxed-looking people laying (seemingly) nude under crisp white sheets, but how did they get there? Did they have to disrobe with the massage therapist nearby? What about underclothes? Keep them on, or take them off?

So I put together a few suggestions for any first-timers to make sure you have a relaxing and rewarding massage experience:

1. Before you go, get recommendations from people you trust, and make sure the practitioner is licensed. (Requirements vary by state.)
   
2. At the start of a massage, the therapist should ask you if you have any trouble spots and what area(s) you want to work on. For a 30-minute massage, pick one target area. For 60- or 90- minute massages, the therapist can cover more ground.
   
3. Once the initial consultation is complete, the therapist will give you some privacy to disrobe and get under the sheets on the massage table. He or she will knock before re-entering the room. No surprises.
   
4. Disrobe to "your level of comfort." If that means keeping your clothes on, they'll work with that. If it means birthday suit, that works, too. You'll be covered by a sheet and/or blanket anyway, and the therapist will only uncover a leg, arm, or your back as necessary, keeping the rest of you modestly "draped."
   
5. For the therapist's sake, shower before your massage. For your sake, plan to shower again afterward. You may be greasy at the end of the massage, depending on what product(s) the therapist uses.
   
6. Communicate with your therapist! Certain types of massage, like deep tissue, may be uncomfortable for a moment or two. But if something is painful, let the therapist know!
   

But don't say I didn't warn you: it's addictive. Photos courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Rollin' rollin' rollin', keep them doggies rollin'

Mother @#$%@$% that hurt!

OK. Forget what I said about endocannabinoids last week. 10 miles on Sunday, in the heat and humidity that is Northwest Florida, has my quads feeling like I hit them with a sledgehammer. This is really awesome considering that I'm trying to be a "good coach" and encourage a friend through her first 5k. Whining about how much my legs ache is probably not the most encouraging example I can set.

So what did I do today?

I broke out the foam roller.

And it hurt even more...

Those of you who have used a roller, or The Stick, or trigger point (or whatever you want to call it) know exactly what I am talking about. You also know that this maybe explains why some people think we runners are crazy. (Let them talk. We can't be distracted by their couch potato chatter! Ha!)

But seriously, after 10 minutes of foam-rollering (and a string of expletives that would have made a drunken trucker proud) my legs started to feel better.

And tonight's 10k was my fastest on the course to date.