I'm here to talk to y'all about how sweet my husband is, and the recovery road I've been on since my last installment 6 months ago. Yes, I know, I've been a bad blogger.
In October, my PT ended and I was on my own for recovery and training. It was daunting, but also a little refreshing. I had no one to answer to but myself, and while I was frustrated with starting over it was good for me to retrain myself in self-discipline.
I'm not saying that I did a stellar job at it. There were way more days that I should've plowed through a workout rather than skipping it, but I will also say that I pushed harder on the days I worked out. I tried to put 100% out there each and every time, and I must say that I'm rather pleased with myself.
I judged myself on my numbers, even when I shouldn't have, but I also did some reflection after each run and figured out where I improved and where I still need to improve.
It used to be that I could head out on a run and reach pace and keep it there. I'd start off at the pace I was going to finish, and that is not the case anymore. It takes a good mile to 1.5 miles to fully warm up, but holy moly when I do warm up it's like opening up all 8 cylinders. Everything becomes smoother, easier, more fluid. My gait lengthens out and I start using more of my stride.
My stride length that has been one of the numbers bothering me. Before the injury, my stride length was almost a full meter long (39" or so for those not up on their metrics). After surgery, my stride length dropped to ~ 32" or .81 of a meter. That's 7" missing from each and every step! That's a lot of inches when you figure that on average I had been taking ~100 SPM (steps per minute). So if I'm shortening my stride by 7" each step, that's 700" or ~18 meters every minute. A mile is 1609 (1600 for sake of simplicity) and if I'm shortening my stride by 18 meters every minute and it's taking me 14 minutes to finish a mile, that means that I'm losing 234 meters a mile. I was losing 1/8th of a mile every mile because my stride length was shorter. Well, no wonder my mile time was slower. I mean other than the fact that I just had surgery as well, but I was not prepared for my stride length to be so greatly affected. So with this knowledge in hand, I knew that part of my focus during training was to regain my stride.
I got bored with the interval training plan that my PT had laid out for me, so I switched it up a bit and started a 5k training plan from Garmin. I went with the Garmin plan because 1) the coach I picked was a PT, 2) the workouts could be downloaded directly to my watch, 3) it was a plan I felt like I could stick to. I then deviated a little from the plan, because the intervals were boring. I did not want to be walking, so I switched up the walking bits to a slow jog, and then pushed it during the running bits. I ran as fast as I could sustain for the duration of the interval and it was hard. My warmup period is much longer now, and those first few short workouts were frustrating because I never did get warm, but towards the middle/end of training the workouts got fun. I hit my happy and my running bliss had been found.
I did discover that my feet had had a little too long to be pampered and all of my protective callouses were gone but they're coming back. My feet also don't look like runner's feet anymore. They've gotten a little soft and cushy, whereas before surgery they were lean and you could see the muscles and tendons in my feet. They looked like feet that knew how to work. At least to me. Maybe I'm a little crazy to be waxing poetic about my feet, but let's be honest, feet are pretty amazing.
There was an ironic comfort in all of the familiar aches and pains that came with training again. Yes, it was familiar but it also felt new. I was acutely aware of my knee and the muscles in the right leg. I knew when I was favoring the left and my hips complained. I missed it. I missed the proof of work. I missed the proof of progress. Having some glorious weather for some of the training runs also didn't hurt. Even the cold weather was nice, I do love me some cold running.
So the hubs and I discussed when the 5k should take place, and I told him that I'd like to do it while we were on the cruise. Fresh, sea air, sunshine, wind, what better things for my first distance race since July? We decided that our 2nd day at sea would be pretty ideal for the race and that was that.
We ran on the treadmill the day before the race. It was awful. I hate the treadmill. They're not long enough for me. It kept yelling at me. The undulating motion of the ship was making it worse. Hubs had no problem. I'm glad that his run went better than mine, but I'm a firm believer that a bad rehearsal can make for a great performance, and that run was definitely not one of my finest.
So the night before the race, we were getting back into our room, and the hubs says he has a surprise for me. He pulls out an envelope which I had almost seen while unpacking our bags two days before, but he had interrupted my unintentional snooping. Inside the folder was a race bib.
He made me a custom race bib. He had titled our race the Americal Caribbean League 5k and the number on the bib was 219. I didn't think much of the number because it was February 2019. He then explained that 2/7, race day, was 219 days since my surgery. I am not ashamed to admit that I teared up. This was one of the sweetest things he's ever done. I know that my training, my neurosis when I don't run, recovery, surgery, well all of it can drive him insane, but for him to do this was overwhelmingly poignant.
Race day dawned bright and early and I was ready. I was excited. I was nervous. He was sleepy, and maybe not as excited as I was. I was already in the right mindset. I was going to own this or give it my all while trying. Then we discovered that the gym was closed. It didn't open until 7 am. It was 6:30. We had a time schedule to keep. Breakfast was being delivered to the room around 8. We needed to be back by then, so then we headed out to the Promenade Deck (Deck 7) and the outside deck was closed. Well crap, we're going to have to go up to Deck 19 and run on that itty bitty track. Steve did the math. 16 laps around equaled a mile. It was going to take 50 laps to equal a 5k. Terrific. Well at least it was a gorgeous morning and I was spending it with my hubby.
We start running. Going in the opposite direction of the few walkers that were up there. My watch screwed up, ok I screwed up and hit the wrong setting, so then I had to restart the race, but race distances always vary, right? Then we were back to it.
We hit a mile done, and I was getting warm. My pace was 13:25 and I was pretty happy about that. It's where I've been running the first mile, and everything was starting to loosen up.
About halfway through the next mile, I found my happy. My stride opened way up and I took off. I felt like I was eating that track up. My legs felt good, even though I wasn't pushing. I was running what felt natural. It was glorious. The sun was coming up and more people were coming up to the deck. Most were walking, but some were up there to take pictures. I was happy as long as everyone stayed out of my way. I would've been more than willing to plow into someone. There was no way I was stopping for anyone. Steve was falling back, but he was holding up. The 2nd mile was done in 12:49.
The last mile went by so fast that I don't even remember most of it. Steve dropped out of the race because his knee was killing him. The concrete was hard on it. He stood at one end of the track talking with people and cheering me on. I focused on my form and using my full stride. Occasionally, cursing at people who were using the track as a photo op. There was another cruise ship on the port side. I asked if he'd seen what line it was, he hadn't. There was an odd comfort in the fact that the track was so little and I was going faster than I had been. I finish the 3rd mile in 12:25. Hell yea!
I ended the 5k with a time of 40:10, avg pace 12:52, avg SPM 138, and a stride length of .91 meters (36"). I am over the moon with all those numbers.
After the race, we walk back down to our room, where the hubs awards me the official ACL medal and we realize that we're not completely right in the head because our children are all still asleep, and we got up to run before the sun rose, while on vacation. It was pretty fantastic.
Breakfast gets delivered and we set it up for them. Small Fry wakes up then and we tell him that breakfast is here for them, and we're off to a celebratory breakfast.
We didn't run again while on the boat, but never fear I've already got the next plan ready and the hubs and I will be ready for RnR Nashville at the end of April!
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