A different kind of thankfulness

I know I'm not the only one who is finding it difficult to feel thankful this year. I know. But I feel like getting this out in the open might help me to find my own grit to be thankful.

I've been unemployed/underemployed for nine months now. February seems like a long time ago because 2014 is just around the bend. Fighting to get a job is feeling more hopeless all the time and the four part-time jobs I have aren't enough to pay my bills... I'm broke.

But I'm not broken.

I may not have money for all my bills, but I have enough for some of them. So I pay them.

I may not have money for Christmas gifts, but I can still pay my internet bill and phone bill so I can email and call my friends and family to let them know I'm missing them or sending them holiday joy.

I may not have the kinds of food I'd like to have around this time of year, but I do have some food. (I never thought I'd revert to bagged salad and ramen noodles like college, but I also never knew I would be this hard up for money.)

I may be struggling to believe in myself because I can't find a professional job to pay me a salary I can actually live on, but I still have the most marvelous man as my boyfriend who tells me that I'm worth it, helps me find hope, and lets me cry to him when I'm hurting.

I may not be able to make any future plans, based on time or money, but I know that I am fortunate each morning when I put both feet on the floor and take a big breath to lift myself from bed. I have learned to plan on just waking up and being alive.

I may feel hopeless (nearly all the time, these days), but I have a few really good friends who, despite whatever distance between us, have the power to lift me up.

I may not have health insurance, but I have found a way to get my prescriptions at a reasonable cost so I may remain well and, especially important, free of asthma attacks and healthy enough to run and keep running.

I may cry too easily right now. I do. But I have the cutest, sweetest dog who has a truly intelligent sense of empathy who has finally learned to cuddle to make mommy feel better.

I may not have friends close by all the time, but I work hard to be able to afford the luxury of keeping my dog, who is there for me day and night.

I may not see what is in front of me in my path for life, but I am working hard to trust in God and to remember that I can't always see his plan but that there is a plan... and I try to remember that I am an instrument of God when I can help other people.

I'm thankful that I am not broken. I'm not sure how much longer I can sustain myself in this state (this sad, sad state), but I am thankful that I find strength in everything I listed here. I find strength to push on and do what I can, whatever it is, to keep going minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day.

I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving, dear readers.

Taking a Break from Racing: Marshall University Half Marathon

Gosh. So it's been awhile since I wrote. My sincerest apologies… I'm juggling life not unlike anyone
else, only currently life's juggling involves less time online.

So I ran my third half marathon on 11/10! It was wonderful. I finished with a time between my other two times, so I'm pleased that I have an average to work on for next year.

Yes, I'm done racing for the year. This means I'm abandoning my goal of running a race every month. I did it for as long as I could manage, and I am pleased with that, but cold weather running has me chickening out a bit since the aforementioned juggling act leaves me such little time as it is. I'm planning to use this time away from racing as time to build more strength, particularly in my core and legs, to bolster my running in the spring time. I also think this is a good time for me to take a break because I was convinced I had a stress fracture in my right foot the day after this race… I got it x-rayed and it's fine, but the pain is enough for me. I'm prepared to take it easier on my feet for a few weeks.

The Marshall Marathon and Half Marathon were lovely. We had beautiful weather and a nice flat course. I'm delighted to announce that my Oiselle teammate Aubrey came in 2nd overall for the marathon (!) and 1st for women (!!!). What a fast bird she is! I was glad that I got to meet her again. We hugged and celebrated her victory with upbeat chatter as we both cooled down from running. I'm so proud to be on the same team as this quick lady!

This is me at mile nine. I'm still smiling!

I waited to blog about the Marshall Marathon (I ran the half--let's be clear on that) because I had a problem. The day I got my number I was told that I did not pay for the jacket and shirt… but I had. I was a little irritated that I didn't get them on the day of the race. However, afterwards the race director was kind enough to check the records to see that yes, in fact, I had paid for these items. While I am still a tiny bit irked that I got size medium (when I requested small… when I originally paid for the items…), I'm glad to have the items anyway. The jacket is really nice and it's my first race jacket. :) I'm glad that they were willing to mail them to me.

As I mentioned, the race was really nice. The water stops were well-spaced, the crowd that gathered was just enough to boost my energy, and the course varied between concrete, pavement, and even a little dirt trail. I definitely plan to run this race again. I like that it's small (with a few hundred participants, not thousand…).

One Thing at a Time

I am taking one thing at a time.

This is how I've been trying to live each day--one thing at a time, one minute at a time. If those minutes add up into hours, then it's one hour at a time. Hours to days, days to weeks. Weeks to months, unfortunately, is what this has turned into. Months of feeling lost.

I'm burned out from my personal life. I lost my health insurance, I don't have enough money to pay my bills, and I'm not eating enough to still run well. (Part of that is appetite and part of that is financial.)

I can run, but I tire so quickly. 3.1 is about all I can handle without feeling absolutely exhausted. Yet it never feels like enough. I can't even focus on my fall races right now. They're too far away (both time- and space-wise). I'm not sure how I'll get there and, if I get there, how well I'll run because my training plan is threadbare at this rate.

I'm trying.

I'm trying to focus more on professional endeavors, specifically teaching, because that is what brings me joy and, on days when I can't find that joy, it brings me momentary fulfillment. It distracts me from the problems in my personal life that I can't really do anything about.

I'm doing everything I can. Literally, I'm doing every single possible thing to help myself. And it's not enough to change things. So when all that's left is to worry, I need to shut off that valve so I don't pour more energy into that rabbit hole.

I'm really tired. Tired of applying for jobs I never hear back about. Tired of trying to turn unemployment compensation into a life. Tired of feeling like this situation won't improve.

I'm living check to check. I'm living sleep to sleep. I'm living blink to blink. One. Thing. At. A. Time. The poetry of mindfulness is lost on me some days because "being in the moment" requires more energy than I think I have left from worrying.

It's depressing.

Moments of "look how far you've come" are overshadowed by weeks of worry chalked up to bills I can't pay and jobs I don't have. I'm working harder than I've ever worked for anything and I've got nothing to show for it. Looking to see how far I've come isn't a fair comparison anymore. I feel no farther along because I want change--big changes, like not having to worry about finances, being able to get my medication, and being excited about life.

I'm plodding along.

One thing at a time. Everything "extra" has been shorn from my budget and, somehow too, my life. But I'm persevering. I'm keeping on.

My First Half Marathon

It's unbelievable! It's over! I ran a half marathon. (And I can still walk.)

After working so hard for so long for this one goal, I'm a little down now. I've been told that post-race blues are pretty normal. I have another half marathon in October, and I have several other shorter races in the months leading up to that, so hopefully the sadness won't last for long.

At the Dog Walk on Saturday before the race.

I'm proud to live in a city that puts on such a great event for runners. Even with the amped up security measures, things were fluid and felt very under control. Everything from the expo to the dog walk, the race itself and the VIP post-race fun was delightful.

I'm glad that I stayed with a friend who lived closer to the city. Not only was it more convenient, it was more fun because we were in all our pre-race prep together. She was a gracious host and made lots of food for us to eat. I also had a comfortable place to sleep and kept my dog with me so I didn't have to spend money (money I don't have) to board her somewhere. I really enjoyed it and I'm lucky to have such a good friend.

The start of the race made me pretty anxious. I'd never been part of an event this large. There were roughly 30,000 people racing! It helped that I knew the course really well and had expectations of when and where I would slow down. I still had the jitters though!

We got started and after about a mile I separated from my friend. Her pace was a little too quick for me (even though we'd trained together just fine). I was feeling a little nauseous and I couldn't figure out why! I thought that if I threw up and got it over with that maybe I would feel better and I could go on... Well, I never did throw up. The stomach feeling just waned slowly over the course of five or six miles. I just tried to distract myself from the discomfort by looking at the crowds cheering and enjoying the pretty day. (The weather was beyond perfect! 49º and sunny to start and it warmed up to 64º by the time I finished!)

Me and my hostess with the mostess at the starting line.

Unfortunately by the time my stomach pain was gone, my left achilles tendon was stirring. Now here's the part that I hate--this had only started to bother me in really recent runs. Never before had I experienced this pain. When I first had it, it was after running. Eventually it started creeping in to longer runs, making its presence known. Not enough to make me stop, but hurting enough that stairs are tough to do once I'm done.

This bridge is clearly uphill.

So I'm about half way through the race and my achilles is barking at me. Seriously? I was a little ticked, to be honest. No amount of stretching along the course would've helped, so I just trudged along. I made compromises with myself: "You have to run from 4th Street to 5th Street. If you hurt, you can walk until 6th Street, but if you feel okay then you need to run to 6th Street." That mindful element was very helpful in getting me through the Southside (where I used to work), the longest straight stretch in the race. When I made it to the Birmingham Bridge, which is one big incline, I just walked. No bridge was worth the pain. I wanted to finish the race RUNNING, not limping.

And I did. The last few miles were a little easier because I really did know that part of the course from running The Great Race 10k back in September. The incline near Duquesne University is so slight that it feels like it's parceling off chunks of your knee to be sold to the runners behind you. If you get past it, though, you've really only got a tiny incline at the finish to worry about.

Oh, Pittsburgh... You and your inclines.

My official time is 2:58:22. I originally anticipated that I'd finish closer to 2:30:00, but too much walking to baby that achilles pushed me back. Oh well. It's my first half so my time is a PR by default and it's definitely something to beat!

Out With the Old and... In With a Newer Version of the Old

I got new running shoes about a month ago and, after the hassle of getting them ordered, I was thrilled to have them and wear them. It was good to feel a fresh new cushion of a new pair of kicks. They were pretty and with my SuperFeet inserts they felt great.

Me in my Brooks after fording the muddy
stream to reach Penasco Blanco at Chaco
Canyon, New Mexico. No one died of
dysentery or lost any shoes. 

I switched back and forth with my old and new shoes while I wore the new ones in, mostly because the new ones were ever so slightly more neutral than my old ones. The people at my gym were probably pretty happy when I stopped wearing my old ones since I had worn them in New Mexico tromping around in the mud at Chaco Canyon with my bff in early February. I was still spreading bits of ancient desert with every step.

Once I was running every run in my new shoes, though, I started having pain. Every run brought pain. At first I chalked it up to not being diligent enough with my training. Then once I was back on track with training (after losing my job), that excuse didn't make sense. I ran races in pain. I ran training miles in pain. 

Until this point, my running life had been minimally painful (thank all things good!). I had a (fortunately) short-lived case of runner's knee in November and got stronger thanks to the physical therapy exercises my doctor told me to do. My original shoes saw me through every run of my newbieness until I started getting shin splints consistently around 350 miles. Even the fact that I broke my left foot twice in college hadn't stopped me. (The second time I broke it I got fired for it!) Sure, it hurts when the seasons change, but as long as it's not black and blue and as long as I don't feel "that" pain, I'm okay. (I know what it feels like all too well, sadly.)

Finally this week I was forced to do something about my pain. Track Tuesday with my running group went well. I felt great and did my speed pyramid without much trouble. That night my shins hurt and the fleshy part of my foot that should be an arch, but isn't, hurt. Both feet were mirrored images of pain. I iced my feet and went to bed. 

The next day I felt okay... sort of. I ran on the treadmill because we had some stellar thunderstorms brewing. I got to a mile and felt okay, but after that my legs hurt so badly that I had to stop. I got off and stretched and nothing felt better. I tried to walk on the treadmill and even that hurt. A lot. So I went home and hobbled around to make dinner, all the while wondering what the heck I'd done to myself. 

My concern grew because I now have about three weeks until my first half marathon (May 5th!). I also knew that being sidelined after just 1.5 miles is NOT okay. Something was really wrong.

I did a little investigation online about overpronation, the shin pain I was feeling, and causes. I emailed the coaches for my running group with my hypothesis. They confirmed it. "Go back to your original brand and style," they said. 

I took my new shoes back to the store and, thankfully, they were willing to exchange them. I'm very pleased that they were so kind about it (even though I felt like I was being a total pain). I'm confident that the new shoes--a newer version of my old ones--should help me feel normal again. 

I'm ready to get back to running without pain. I mean, I've worked SO hard to get to the point that I can run and breathe well... it's time to be able to enjoy that! :)

"Just a Short Run" That I Almost Cut... Shorter

Saturday morning greeted me with 25º and frostbitten grass. I took out my dog, warmed up my car, and drove off with my boyfriend to North Park in Pittsburgh. It was one of those mornings that you don't know how to dress for because you know it's supposed to warm up, and you're bound to warm up once you start running, but when you're waiting for the race to start you become certain that you've never been so cold in your entire life. Ever.

I wasn't feeling 100% when we got to the park. On the ride there I had gone through my mental checklist and discovered that I forgot my iPod nano. I wailed in disappointment. I was about to run my second longest race and I had to do it without music?! I have been training with music to help me keep my pace (not too fast, not too slow). NOW what was I supposed to do?! I lamented this fact for about five minutes until I realized that I was really getting on my boyfriend's nerves. So I changed the topic to how glad I was that he was there.

Look how happy I am that the race
is over! I'm sporting sweet Oiselle
gear top to bottom.

When we arrived, I waited in a ladies' room line that coiled around the inside. Fortunately my boyfriend was kind enough to grab my number and chip for me. I honestly don't remember feeling so digestively odd before a race. I don't have to say that I'll spare you the details because, frankly, there aren't any. I can't nail down what was going on.

The race is called Just a Short Run. There's a 5k, an 8.1 miler, a half, and a 30k. The race started uneventfully. The first loop was a 5k with a decent hill, which the race director bragged about before sending us off, and I made it up the hill. It was the downhill that triggered my mental and physical demise. My calves had been hurting since my running group's hill repeats on Tuesday (3/26). I had iced them and stretched them, and worn compression socks, but they weren't cooperating. They cramped up. I tried to glide down the hill so I wouldn't do any damage. 

At the close of the 5k loop, the 5k racers finished and the rest of us crazies kept running. It was at this point I considered quitting. The Chatty Cathies around me had gotten on my nerves. My self-talk had become pretty negative. My calves were yelling at me in their own language, and my guts were already screaming "NONSENSE! THIS IS NONSENSE!" Yes, guts, I know it's nonsense. You're right. But I plodded on.

I really wanted to stop. Then I saw my 5k time. Oh, hell no. I was not letting that be the tone for the day. It would've been my worst 5k time ever. No thank you.

I did a quick diagnostic check: I was warmed up (nearing 40º now?). I could breathe well (for a change). I shed my gloves, my facemask, and my windbreaker, and I pushed onward. 

I tried to get away from the chatterboxes. Most of them had been running the 5k anyway. Fixing my internal problems? Not so simple. I took some Gatorade and a gel thingy at the aid station. I'd have to wait for those to kick in. I tried to stretch out my calves, but no dice. It felt like angry piranhas sunk their teeth into the back of my legs and were holding on tighter with every step I took. 

The next loop in the course was the five mile loop around the lake. I had run this before--twice, actually--in the ten miler I ran in February. But for that race we ran in the opposite direction. I think the course was much kinder in that direction... Sigh. I walked some. I had to. Those piranhas were chowing down. I didn't feel like I was going to pass out anymore, which was an improvement, but my legs were really unhappy with my decision to keep going.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the physical pain. I can very easily claim that it would've been easier if I'd had my iPod, but I don't know that for sure... 

What I do know is that once I started focusing on my breath--because I could breathe! Oh, joy! I could breathe and not have an asthma attack!--I found a pace I could keep and I rode it to the end of the race.

I finished the 8.1 miles in 1:40:59. I'm not super psyched about the time, but I finished. It is on par with my pace for my ten miler (2:08:29), so I feel good about that. 

I know I need to learn more about how to better fuel myself before races. I also know that I'd prefer to run my races with my iPod... but that I would probably benefit from a few runs without music. 

In Stitches: Time Off

Back in October, I wrote about a dermatological hiatus... And now the time has come. Today I went to the dermatologist to have two skin "items" removed. One on my back and one on my shin.
 
At 5 mm each, the cuts required the doctor to close them with one stitch each. When you have stitches, it's a bad idea to exercise because if you bleed, you interfere with healing. (And, seriously, who wants to interfere with healing?) The appointment itself went okay, but the local anesthetic is wearing off now and I'm feeling the soreness in my back. Oww...

My follow-up appointment is later this month. By then, they'll have the results of the biopsies and the stitches will be ready to come out. Until then, though, no exercise.

I raced on January 1st and my next race isn't until late February, so I'll be healed and back to training before then. Once I have the stitches removed, I know I'll still have to take it easy, so I plan to use a GroupOn I bought for a local yoga studio and stay limber.

Karissa's 2012 Race Recap

This was my first year as a runner. I started running in earnest in November 2011, hitting a trail near my home every day that I could. I loved it. When it got cold, though, my lungs didn’t love it and I was stuck indoors with no real way to keep going. After Christmas I decided to join the Anytime Fitness in my neighborhood. I know, I know: this is the New Year’s resolution of New Year’s resolutions… a gym membership. But my real resolution was to run a 5k. A few days into January I signed up for a race in April with a friend. The date was on the calendar and I now had a goal to work towards. 

I signed up to work with a personal trainer for a few sessions at a special introductory price and learned how to use the machines and free weights, and she also taught me some things about nutrition and what muscle groups to work in what order. I couldn’t afford to continue with personal training, but I took what I learned from those sessions and did my best to apply it as the months wore on.

I ran as much as possible. 

 

Layers of Difficulty

I'm finally officially calling myself a runner. And when I do that, people often say, "Oh, running is hard." Or something like that. It's usually followed by a story from when they were a kid, which just so happens to be the penultimate example of why a person shouldn't run. Sometimes there's a story of a record something-er-other or injured whatchamacallit and at the end I don't know if I'm supposed to feel like I bonded with the person or like I have learned my lesson.

Yeah, running can be hard.

But you know what else is hard?

NOT running.

At least it is when you're used to it, expecting it, wanting it, or needing it.

I've been trying to rest my knee ever since learning my official diagnosis, and it's really difficult to do! I walked my race on Saturday. I've been pushing myself to do the physical therapy exercises my doctor gave me. Lunch breaks on days without precipitation are spent walking around Pittsburgh's South Side (seeing the sights, doing some holiday shopping).

I'm trying to stay moving. I'm trying to stay motivated. I've had a tough time dragging myself out of bed in the morning. I'm guessing it's because the days are so short and my house is so cold that my body's impulse is to hibernate right where I lay. Yeah, I know you all have been there. It's a common human thing, I've learned.

Sometimes running is my stress relief after a long day. Other times it's what I do to make myself feel better about myself or life in general. It can be an escape (yes, even on a treadmill). Running's catharsis lies in every step, step, step, after step of hope that I'm getting better at something... improving my form, my breathing (with my asthma, a constant struggle), working on hills, or changing my gait. Or just running. I can just be getting better at running when I run. That's okay too. Superficial or deep, whatever I need, that's what running is in my life. I can fit it to that gap to fill that need, albeit temporarily.

But not running has made it tough to find a way to stay on top of my mood if I'm wishing I could just go pound pavement--where does that energy go? What am I choosing to do with it instead? It's really a challenge to pay attention to because these habits of *not* running aren't all that unfamiliar. I only started a year ago. It wouldn't be that difficult to slip back into non-runner status. But I'm trying to keep going, reminding myself that I want to come back. Staying mindful of what I'm feeling when I want to run and why I feel the urge to run is proving to be a very interesting experience. If you've never dissected it, I encourage you to do so. You will probably learn something about your own motivation.

My knee still hurts. I hope that I will be able to run next Saturday. (I'll even take a run, walk, run, walk pattern!) It's a 5k road race I've been looking forward to in Columbus and I've got two running pals coming with me. It'll be fun no matter what, but I'd really like to be able to enjoy the sporting part of it.

Patellofemoral pain syndrome = sad face

I was putting it off because I had hoped that if I gave myself enough rest that it wouldn't bother me...

After the Ohio Outside trail race on November 17th, my knee hurt pretty badly the next day. I took care of it the best way I knew how and eventually it felt normal enough for everyday life. But when I tried to exercise again, the pain returned. 

I tried running again this past Tuesday. I walked five minutes, ran two. Walked five minutes, ran two. I felt okay the whole time I was on the treadmill. 

Wednesday morning was a different story. Reluctantly, I called the doctor. 

I met with a physician's assistant instead of my usual primary care physician. Ryan was really helpful. I explained my running lifestyle a little, when the pain started, where it was, and when it seemed to appear. 

I allowed him to flex my knee, hip, and ankle joints, testing for abnormalities. He told me what many other doctors have mentioned: I have extremely "pliable" joints. They're loose. I sprain easy. I haven't slipped a shoulder or anything, but I commonly feel my bones slide around to the point that when I had X-rays once or twice the doctors have retaken them and had me flex different muscles to view the bone positioning.

I'm not a perfect human specimen. I know that.

Without question, I have runner's knee. Ryan didn't have to think twice about it. My pain is above the knee cap and fits all the other criteria like hurting more when I walk downhill or down stairs and feeling like it needs to "pop ." What's crappy is that I've learned that I have a number of criteria that make me more likely to have this and to get it again: 

• I'm female (we tend to have wider hips, thus making the alignment of hips, knees, and feet a bit more challenging) 
• I overpronate (i.e., I have flat feet; no arch to speak of)
• I have weaker thigh muscles than calf muscles

So I can't not be female or not have overpronated feet... but I can work to strengthen my hip flexors and other muscles for alignment, and I can ensure I'm wearing proper footwear for running. And for those pesky thigh muscles? Well, quadriceps, you have met your match. You've got to stop letting those calves carry you.

I have a race tomorrow. The third trail race in the Ohio Outside trail series. I'm sorry to say that I won't be running it. I might walk it, if I'm allowed. I want to complete the series... I plan to rest, do some really gentle cross training (I'm thinking yoga), and do the stretches Ryan the PA gave me so that I *might* be able to run in the Doomsday Dash 5K in Columbus on December 15th. I reeeeeeally want to run that one... not only because it looks freaking awesome, but also because if I don't run it then I won't have run a race in December, which breaks a NINE MONTH RACE STREAK part of my goal to run a race every month, which would really tick me off. Oh, and I paid to run the race so I want to do it. There's that.        

Have you ever had runner's knee or another injury? How long were you sidelined? What did you do to help yourself get over the physical AND mental parts of being injured?

Trail race #2 -or- Flirting with injury

I ran my second run on the Ohio Outside Trail Series this past weekend. Saturday was chilly and my friend Eleanor and I had driven through clouds on the turnpike to get there.

The race itself was better than my first experience with this trail, which had been my first experience with trail running altogether. We walked the hills (super steep) and ran as much as my lungs would allow. The course is two loops and for some reason the second loop was MUCH easier than the first. I actually enjoyed the second loop.

We ended up beating my time (yay!) and that put the rest of the day in a glorious light. We went about our day together, got lunch at Square Cafe (delish!), and even hit the Carnegie Museum. Yes, I was still in running clothes; no, I didn't care that some snobby girl made a comment about my choice of attire. I felt like asking her how many miles she ran that day. :-P

As the day wore on, however, my right knee started bothering me. It was tight, then it popped. Then it was tight, then it wouldn't pop even though it felt like it needed to. When I got home that night, I iced it and elevated it for awhile and went to bed.

The next morning I could hardly bend my knee.

What on earth happened? The worst injuries are the ones you don't remember happening. You can't point at some distinct point in time and say, "Yes, at that time, that thing I did, that is what caused this pain." Worse, it's usually my left knee that bugs me because I smashed it pretty good a few years ago when I fell skiing. (My middle name isn't Grace, okay?)

I did some easy stretching on the floor while my dog kept trying to lick my hands and face alternately, and eventually came to the conclusion that I was going to need R.I.C.E. to get this back into shape. Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation. Yeah, standards of healing. So good.

I knew it wasn't good when I took my dog outside and could hardly get down the three stairs off of my porch. Yikes. To the couch! I propped myself up and got to knitting and watching a little SVU on Netflix (don't judge me). I took the ice off in intervals of 15-20 minutes.

I didn't feel any relief by late afternoon, so I took some ibuprofen. A little anti-inflammatory action helped me at least rest without as much pain.

I repeated the ice routine the rest of the night, wrapped my knee up with an Ace bandage for sleep, and by some magical healing miracle, my knee felt fine on Monday morning. I'm hesitant to declare myself fixed... especially when it hurt SO badly that day. I was ready to go to urgent care... I'm taking it easy this week, though, just so I don't do anything to make it worse.

No running--elliptical machine and bicycling only. That little flirt with injury was enough to make me hope and pray that I never incur an injury that will land me on the sofa for much longer than a weekend.

Damage control

I know I need to learn a thing or two about damage control and recovery when it comes to running... I've been athletic all my life, but only recently became a runner, so I don't know the nuances of soreness and aches like I did as a fastpitch softball pitcher.

When I pitched, I knew exactly what would hurt. And I could usually tell why, too. I would strain muscles lining my spine by overcompensating for the directional latitude of a change-up, later requiring a heating pad and a chiropractic adjustment or two. I would extend my leg too far as I lunged forward to deliver the pitch and end up needing some sports cream and ice. I was completely in tune with my pitching arm. It was often sore from throwing as hard as I could for long games. But generally I would rub it down with sports cream and be ready to go the next day. Given: this is all in high school when my body was repairing itself with the speed of a NASCAR pit crew. I don't expect to have that same recovery speed ten years later. (Gosh, was it really that long ago? (Yes.))

Runners World discusses the timing of soreness and aches: on the run and aftershock. I've experienced both, at this point, I think. On the run muscle soreness sets in, well, on the run because you're pushing yourself and even in your awesome running shoes, the cushioning isn't enough to handle all the impact of your body thanks to gravity. Body chemistry and a physiological response get pain going and leave the ache... Careful return to activity and sensible limits for dealing with the pain, if it persists. (And getting to a doctor if it's sticking around too long or getting worse.)

Aftershock is when soreness sets in a few days later. It's the much discussed Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness (DOMS). I've definitely experienced this from car accidents... Runners World says the soreness is from the muscles moving in some new way, despite training and practicing. Makes sense. But when your muscles get feeling better, they really are better than before. The muscle tissue grows back stronger than before. Build and repair muscle, baby!

This makes so much sense. Lately I've noticed some different pains coming on at different times. On shorter, faster runs, I've had some shin pain that feels a lot like my muscle is squished up into a little tube. I've tried stopping and stretching it out, but I'm thinking I may just need to strengthen my legs in that region to help myself. I had my first running-related shin splint right before Pittsburgh's Great Race. I freaked out a little, but did some online research and ended up learning about the wonders of compression socks. (I wore them the evening before, to bed that night, and during the race and I felt no shin pain. It was a miracle because I had been in pain the entire week!)

From my last race... well, I felt like I got hit by a fleet of trucks, to be honest, but to be a bit more specific, here's what hurt:

• my shins
• my calves
• the tips of my toes ("middle" and "pointer" toes; my pointer extends beyond my big toe)
• my right knee (probably from a dog park incident two weeks ago)

I'm glad to have at least a primer in damage control so I can try to make responsible decisions about when to keep going and when to have a rest day, whether I want to or not! And even if I rest, I'll probably try a little massage and stretching to keep things limber while I wait for my body's cell repair team to go to work.