Practical shoes

If I spent as much time running as I spend obsessing about running shoes, I'd probably be a lot further along my rehab road by now.  Although I logically know that shoes (no matter how beautiful) do not possess magical powers and that running form is more important than any pair of shoes could ever be, I still have a teeny tiny bit of hope that The Right Shoes will instantly make me a sub-8:00 miler and that my aches and pains will be a thing of the past.

I say this because I did not entirely warm to the lovely neon Kinvara 3s and today returned them to their home at Run4It.  It wasn't really their fault.  I did like their flashiness and they were very comfortable for walking but I came to the conclusion after several sessions on the cross-trainer and a very brief jog on the treadmill that it will take years before my achilles tendons and calves relax enough and are strong enough to tolerate running in 4mm drop shoes.  And, given how impatient I can be, I didn't trust myself to resist the Kinvara temptation and to not push things faster than was good for me.  Plus, the toe box was a bit big and I needed to tighten the laces so much that I created a big puckered crease of shoe.  Very unsightly.

 Triumph 9, currently on my feet

I'm not giving up on the idea of running in shoes with a lower heel-toe drop.  A bit of research directed me to the Saucony Triumph 9 (8mm drop) and the Inov-8 Road-X 238 (9mm drop), which are more reasonable choices for me at this point.  My local Run4It doesn't carry this particular model of Inov-8s but have ordered them for me to try.  I did a quick test run on the treadmill in the Triumphs, though, and didn't notice any difficulties with them, so I handed over the Kinvaras and took possession of the Triumphs.  And here's a photo of them, so that you can admire them too!

There's a first time for everything

I am a fidget, physically as well as mentally.  If jiggling my legs, swinging my foot, squirming in my chair, and hop scotching from tangent to tangent inside my head burned calories, I'd be able to eat cake to my heart's content and still be able to fit into my skinny jeans.  As an antidote to my fidgetiness, I've briefly tried yoga and mindfulness meditation but moving that slowly or, indeed, just sitting without doing anything else makes me want to scratch my eyes out.  

I did take a couple of tai chi classes several years back, reasoning that at least you get to move so maybe that would suit me, but no.  My confusion over left and right meant that I was always moving in the opposite direction to everyone else and my uncoordination meant that I struggled to make my legs and arms do what everyone else's were doing.  Plus it was SO SLOW.  (I learned later that that class got to do fighting with swords after they got more proficient at the moving slow bit, which sounded like fun, but I probably would have ended up skewering myself or someone else.  I suspect that a lucky escape was had by all.)

So when Pilates - with its emphasis on core strength, flexibility, and slow, precise movements - was mentioned in the ChiRunning book and on the ChiRunning course as something that could be useful for running, I was intrigued but sceptical of my ability to engage with it.  However, because I will do things for running that I wouldn't do under any other circumstances, I decided to give it a try.

Today, then, was my first Pilates class.  I had a 1:1 session at the beginning of the month where I was shown some basic postural exercises and told that I had a very weak core and some muscle imbalances.  Quelle surprise.  Sigh.  I signed up for a series of six mat work classes which should be enough time for me to know whether this is for me or not.

Basic level, but it still froze my brain.

I'm the only beginner in the class and, while the instructor did a good job of keeping an eye on me, I still had virtually no idea what I was doing.  I quickly gave up on matching my breathing to my movements; in fact, I had to remember to breathe full stop.  I managed the physical movements okay when we had to just use our arms or just our legs but, when we had to combine the two, my brain short circuited and I could only lay there motionless until my neurons untangled themselves.  The instructor assumed that I was tired and I didn't correct her. 

I didn't hate the class, I hasten to add.  I had to concentrate enough that I didn't find it boring.  I felt a bit looser afterwards and I certainly noticed that my legs were tired when I did a quick cardio session at the gym afterwards.  And I've been much more aware over the couse of the day of keeping my pelvis level.  I think that I see potential in this.

I can't wait, though, until we get to fight with swords...

A lovely achilles

Happy calf!

I have been given the all-clear by Julie the Physio!  My calf hasn't bothered me in weeks, aside from some very minor and very occasional twingeing which I just ignore, so I was not surprised to receive official confirmation that I am All Better.  There was no pain at all when Julie dug her fingers into my calf (aside from the actual pain associated with someone digging their fingers into your calf), and she couldn't feel any adhesions at all.  Hurrah!

Also a lovely Achilles

 I asked Julie about the achilles tendon soreness that I've experienced during and after the last couple of runs.  She had a good feel of both tendons, including what felt like sticking her fingers behind them.  Best not to think too closely about that...Anyway, there was no pain, tenderness, or even discomfort, no matter how hard she poked.  In fact, I apparently have 'a lovely achilles.'  Huh.  Who knew?  I was very pleased to hear that, after all of my various achilles problems over the years, the tendons are still smooth and slender with no signs at all of lumps, bumps, or scarring.  Again, hurrah!

This helps to confirm my hypothesis that the various niggles that I'm feeling are related to my new Chi way of running.  It will take time for my muscles, tendons, and even joints to adapt to being used in a different way and I need to be careful not to do too much, too soon.  Patience patience patience.  Blah blah blah.  As long as it all comes together in time for the Aviemore Half Marathon on 14 October, I'll give it all the time it needs.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't

 I read somewhere that, when you start to change your running form, it can feel for a while like things are not quite fitting together.  If that's true, then I definitely must be doing something right because my last couple of runs have felt...not crap, exactly, but disjointed.  Like my body isn't working as a whole anymore.  I don't necessarily see this as a Bad Thing because, when I allow myself to fall back into my usual way of running, I'm aware of how much worse that feels than the new awkwardness.

Take my last Shetland run as an example.  It was too windy to hear my metronome and, what with the wind and the hills, I really struggled.  I knew that I was overstriding, heel striking, and shuffling - just like I have for years and years - and I had the achilles and hip pain to prove it.  My next run, once I was back home, was fine.  I kept my cadence up, focused on good posture and a strong core, and let my legs relax.  However, I got carried away and ran too fast; by the evening, my achilles tendon was tender to the touch.  Too much, too soon.

Today, I was back to struggling again.  Sore achilles on and off for the first mile and a half, not able to keep up with the metronome, slouching, overstriding...and then, for the last mile and a half, it suddenly got better.  And I had an epiphany.  I might be evolving a more healthy, sustainable, and efficient running style, but I still have the same body.  I still need to take a substantial amount of time to warm up, I still need to stretch before I run, and I still need to go slow for at least the first mile, none of which I did today.  ChiRunning is about observing, listening, and adapting according to what one's body needs on a moment by moment basis, not having a plan that must be followed at all costs.

So, here's what I've learned over the past week.  Relax.  Warm up properly and stretch before each run.  Initially turn off the metronome because I need to go slow until my body loosens up and because I find it really hard, at this stage anyway, to run slow enough with the metronome for that to happen.  Slow down even once I'm warmed up; the speed eventually will come but, for now, it's more important to allow time for my tendons and muscles to get strong. 

Sigh.  This is going to take FOREVER.  And learning lessons about 'patience' obviously will be for another week.

Kinvara 3 in white, citron, and pink

Gear update:  Ever on the lookout for opportunities to purchase nifty new shoes, I bought a pair of Saucony Kinvara 3 running shoes today with the hope that they will assist my transition to mid-foot striking.  They are between what I have always run in - stability shoes with up to a 12mm heel-toe drop - and minimalist shoes that have a drop of zero and that essentially mimic barefoot running.  The Kinvaras have a 4mm drop which, given my tight achilles tendons and calves, I'll be lucky to manage.  Still, the Chi way is all about slow and gradual changes, over years if need be, so I'll have even more to be patient about.  Hurrah!  In the meantime, I'm happy to just sit back in the moment and admire the neon citron loveliness of my new shoes. 

Chi and me

This time a week ago, I was running up a hill in Edinburgh with no pain and a sense of running well-being that I haven't felt in almost six months.  I think that I am a ChiRunning convert.

The ChiRunning workshop, taught by the wonderfully patient and encouraging Nick Constantine, was a revelation.  I was quite nervous beforehand, in part because I feared that the other participants would all be elite runners who would stand around and sneer at me as I struggled to keep up but also because I was concerned that my calf wouldn't be up to it.  I needn't have worried on either account.  We were a varied bunch, ranging from someone who had never really run before to someone who has speedily run countless races of all lengths and who now has his sights set on an ultra-marathon.  There was lots of support from the other participants and, purely on a social level, it was a very fun day.

We did this, but in the wind and rain!

We started with learning to engage our core, level our hips, create a strong column (shoulders, hips, ankles all lined up), and to use our arms effectively.  We learned to lean from our ankles while keeping our legs relaxed and then to maintain this, as well as a strong column, while progressing from walking in place to walking to running in place to actually running.  We practiced running with shorter strides, landing with the foot under or just behind our centre of gravity, and used a metronome to up our cadence to 170 steps/minute. 

Nick videoed us before and after the training.  I don't know how the others felt, but I was completely taken aback by what I saw.  The 'before' video of me was nothing at all like what I thought that I was doing!  It immediately was apparent to me 1) why I keep getting injured and 2) why I'm so bloody slow.  I wasn't using my arms at all - they were sort of wafting semi-gracefully by my sides - and was heel striking with my knee locked.  And I shuffle.  This in itself wasn't a huge surprise but I was shocked by how little I actually lifted my feet from the ground.

What it's supposed to look like

The 'after' video showed improvement.  My posture was better, I was using my arms appropriately, my stride was shorter and quicker, and even though I still was heel striking, it wasn't nearly as pronounced.  Lots to work on, but even these small changes resulted in me running faster than I have in probably over a year, with less perceived effort than I make when I'm running 'normally' and - more importantly - not hurting with it.  I felt so good that I even partook of the short hill (well, medium incline) session.  And, again, nothing hurt. 

Keeping Adam's words in mind - 'What's important is how you feel the next day' - I was pleased that my calf felt completely fine following all of this.  Oddly enough, my ankles (the hinge bit where your foot attaches to your lower leg) were quite stiff for the next couple of days, which Nick put down to having too much tension in my lower legs but also to just using my muscles and joints in a different way.

I wasn't able to take my new form for a test run until yesterday.  It wasn't ideal weather - rain and strong wind, with the second half of the run being into the wind - but it was the first day since the workshop where I had the time to go out.  I had my metronome, my Garmin, my snazzy red Gore jacket, and optimism that I would actually remember what I had learned a week previously.

I ran 3 miles, stopping to walk for 60 seconds twice only because I suddenly worried that I might be doing too much, too soon.  I felt great.  Even with the walking and the wind, I finished in approximately 34 minutes and my Garmin showed that I was whizzing along at one point at a 10:30min/mile pace (before I got freaked out and made myself walk).

Maintaining my ChiRunning form is hard; it will take weeks, if not months, before this starts to become even vaguely automatic.  And even then, one of the main tenets of ChiRunning is being aware and in the moment with your running, not zoned out and distracted.  (What?! No more My Chemical Romance on the iPod???)  But based on how I'm feeling after this very small experiment with it, I think this could be what I have been looking for. 

Plus, I'll probably have to buy some new running shoes.  Oh, the hardship.

Of deer and gear

When I had a proper full-time job with a Big Organisation, I used to run in the early morning all the time because that was the easiest way to fit running into my schedule.  Now, however, being self-employed and semi-retired (as opposed to being too lazy to work any harder), my mornings tend to be much more leisurely.  I get up when I feel like it (or whenever the cat decides that she wants me to get up, whichever comes first), eat my breakfast while I catch up with the gossip on the Daily Mail website, drink a mug or two of tea while checking emails and Facebook, and eventually head out for a run by mid-morning.  Today, though, I had a work meeting at 9.30, so I was out of the house before 7am for a 3 mile run.

I began to walk up the farm track towards the main road but quickly came to a standstill when I spied a large blurry shape at the far end of the track.  I don't wear my glasses when I run - I can see without them, just not all that well - and I feared that the large blur was in fact one of the fierce hunting dogs that routinely escapes from the Big House to run rampant across the countryside.  I braced myself for it to fling itself on me and rip out my jugular...but then I realised that it was a deer having a forage, and felt more than a bit foolish (and very relieved).

I saw some wildlife towards the end of the run too.  I surprised a buzzard having breakfast by the old church; it gave me an annoyed look and flew away, a small rodent of some kind clutched in its talons.  It was very close to me, which is why I was able to see it.  I also saw Early Morning Walking Man, who seems to always take his constitutional at that time of day, and who always says to me, 'You'd better hurry, you'll miss the bus!'  I've run out of witty things to say in return.

A milestone in my recovery was reached today when I ran my first complete mile since The Injury.  It was planned, I hasten to add.  I comfortably managed 9 minutes running/2 minutes walking over 2.5 miles on Monday, so this was the next logical progression.  I still was sensible though; I ran the first mile in 12 minutes, then walked for a minute, then did two sets of 10 minutes running/1 minute walking.  I felt like I could have easily run the whole 3 miles, but better to go too slowly and feel like I could have done more than to go too quickly and embarrass myself by having to phone Adam for an emergency appointment.

Lovely, lovely red!

Gear update:  My Mizuno shell, which I've had and loved for over 6 years now, is nearing the end of its life.  The zip is majorly uncooperative these days.  I can do the zip up with a struggle and lots of cursing but it's a bit disconcerting to look down half-way through a run to find the jacket slowly coming apart from the bottom up.  So, when the email from Baxter's Loch Ness Marathon & Festival of Running came through to say that they had some Gore running gear on sale, I leaped at the chance.  I am now the proud owner of a new lightweight, windproof, water repellent (and red) jacket that was 40% off.  I've worn it a few times now and it's fab.  If you fancy some discounted Gore gear of your own, there's still some available here.  Sizes are running out, so be quick!

It's not how you feel on the day...

it's how you feel the day after.  Or so Adam has been trying to drum into my head over the last couple of months.  What he means is that, even though I might feel fine during a run (or whatever form of exercise I am doing), how I feel the next day is even more important.  If there is pain, I've overdone it and need to back off a bit.  This is where being able to distinguish discomfort from pain comes in handy.

Take yesterday as an example.  I upped my run/walk ratio to 8min run/2min walk and my total time running from 27 to 32 minutes.  I would have stopped if it had felt too difficult but it wasn't, although my legs were quite tired by the end.  The back of my knee and my calf felt fine, but a niggle in my achilles made an appearance  half-way through.  Bastard.  It was minor discomfort, so I stopped to stretch and then walked a minute or so, which seemed to do the trick.  No more niggling during the run.  However, by that evening, my achilles was a teensy tiny bit tender to the touch which I'm sure had nothing to do with the amount of poking and prodding that I was doing to try to figure out if it was sore.

This morning, however, it's back to normal.  My knee and calf are still okay too.  Any muscle soreness that I have is the kind of soreness that you get after not using those muscles for a while.  Not discomfort.  Certainly not pain.  Merely a bit of aching that will be gone by tomorrow, when I get to do it all over again.