Last week I went to Cobble Hill Mountain again for the first time since mid-November. I’ve been going to physiotherapy and doing my exercises, so it was time to test my foot in the “real” world. It was great. I only did a small loop, 1.5 km to keep from overdoing it. I’ll probably do this loop for another week or so to get in better shape again – amazing how fast you lose your fitness after being laid up with an injury.
I had a series of injuries that kept me off the trails. First an inflamed quadriceps muscle, then patellar tendonitis, and then pain on the outside edge of my foot. I didn’t think I’d done too much, but it all happened one after the other. Like I’d reached a threshold. A point of injury I couldn’t shake.
But last Friday’s walk was perfect. It was green and mossy, with hair ice growing out of the alders along the side of the trail. It was a bit chilly but I had dressed properly for it and didn’t feel cold. I climbed up the trail, one I’d never been on before because it’s so short. I need to test my abilities on a short trail before I try anything longer. After doing this trail for a couple of weeks I may up it to two loops. It’s hard to find short trails on the mountain, most jump from 1.5 km to 4 km, and increasing my weekly mileage that quickly is bound to generate another injury.
Add to that the fact that I’m getting new orthotics next week, and will also likely have to get new trail runners to stabilize my foot so I don’t get the dreaded pain on the outside of it. I’ll have to get used to a new feeling on the bottom of my feet. Hopefully they help overall, giving my foot the support it needs. My current insoles are 10 years old, so it’s time for new ones anyway.
I feel so much like my father. He had to wear special shoes and orthotics because he ran too much when he was in his 30s and 40s. He even ran a section of the Banff-Jasper relay—I remember the maroon and yellow t-shirt he had from it (very 1970s/80s). However, he ended up with plantar fasciitis that never really healed. Sometimes his feet were so sore that he couldn’t walk in the cities he and my mom had travelled to visit. When it was really bad he couldn’t even ride his bike, his feet were just too sore.
Like me, he spent a lot of time in the pool. Then he hurt his shoulder from using hand paddles, which are notorious for putting an inordinate amount of strain on the shoulder joint. When he had his injury, I stopped using my paddles just in case. Better safe than sorry.
My weakest joints are my knees. I’ve had knee problems since high school, and have had three knee surgeries – no ligament tears thank goodness, but patellar dislocation and fracture, patellar abrasion, and another surgery to clean up scar tissue from the previous surgery.
Since my goal is to run the 12 km Cobble Hill Mountain trail race, I have some leg work to do. Now that my foot is better and my knees are cooperating, I can do some exercises at home to strengthen my legs. Lunges, squats, that sort of thing.
As long as I’m not sleeping—on Saturday I slept for almost 15 hours. On Sunday I was equally tired but didn’t want to be, so I stayed up and filled in the detailed author questionnaire from my publisher. And wrote today’s blog post. I know I’m not supposed to do that—override my body’s natural instincts. But I had slept so much on Saturday that I didn’t believe I needed it on Sunday, too. It’s not like I was going anywhere: it has snowed a lot in the last few days and our driveway is impassable by car (no problem in the truck). The roads were wet but in the mornings there was black ice because it’d been below zero overnight. I could easily have gone back to bed after breakfast and slept until lunch.
Why would I override my natural instincts? In favour of “productivity” and “being normal.” I think I’ve had a bad case of “being normal” lately. I don’t feel down or high, but I’ve been acting like I’m fully capable of doing all the things regular people do. Driving in downtown Duncan, going to the pool twice a week, going to physiotherapy, doing grocery shopping, getting dog food, etc. I have an excellent ability to tell myself I’m fine and can do things, when my body is telling me otherwise. These are all things that make me run out of spoons (energy units). And then I have to keep going without them because I’ve got myself stuck – in the middle of shopping, or in the middle of driving.
Take swimming, for example. If I really think about it, I need a serious rest on Wednesday in between my Tues/Thurs swimming days. I get inordinately tired not just by the swimming itself, but by the driving back and forth in town traffic. Often I will run an errand or two to save gas and time while I’m out, which I justify by saying it’s just one small thing. But one thing is often just enough to tip me into exhaustion.
Saturday was a reckoning of sorts. I slept from after lunch until dinnertime. Then went to bed at 10 pm and slept right through until 8.30 am the next morning. And I still felt tired. I wondered how that could possibly be, then decided it couldn’t and made myself stay up. Not my smartest idea—but then I always have problems giving in to my illness. Acknowledging that it’s here to stay. That it has needs, too. Like quiet time reading, or sleep.
I made the right choice on Monday. Slept all morning until lunchtime and after that a doctor’s appointment. I had just an hour after the appointment before I went back to bed from 3-6 pm.
So even though I feel ‘normal:’ not too high, not too low, I have to realize that my normal isn’t everyone else’s normal. I haven’t banished my illness, much as I may have liked to. It still has a hold on me and reminds me that I have to be careful to not overdo things and then crash into exhaustion. I still have a limited number of spoons to get through the day, and I need to be smarter about how I use them.
For example, while finishing this post I feel inordinately tired. I won’t add any more to it because it’s time to stop thinking and watch TV.
Hang in there. Exercise can be a tricky thing.
Thanks Raymond!