Pace-Talk

Every run feels like I'm unwrapping a gift. It's so dang corny; my heart is just so full.

I am so grateful to be running again, and I'm blown away by how quickly my legs came back. I just can't help but be surprised every time I have a good, strong, fast run. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When I ran on Wednesday, for example, I fell into a rhythm that felt comfortably challenging but not really hard. I glanced at my watch and realized this "comfortably challenging" pace was 8:55.

I mean...this didn't feel easy but it certainly didn't feel hard either.

And then I held that pace easily for a full mile; I only started to lose steam in the last quarter mile of the run (lungs, not legs), and yet I still managed to maintain a 9:00 pace.

In a race situation, I can apparently still bust out those paces. But on a random Wednesday night run? When I was just running by feel? That's...bizarre. I wasn't even holding those paces pre-compartment syndrome! This run left me feeling so grateful and filled with joy, and honesty a little gobsmacked.

To be honest, I haven't been paying much attention to my paces during my runs, only after. I still feel like I'm in recovery so trying to aim for specific speeds and distances isn't a priority. Maybe that's been paying off.

I simply can't wrap my head around the fact that this is reality now. I just hope it keeps progressing this way, and soon my reaction won't be shock and the need to reflect on where I've been and where I could go. I'm tired of the reflection, I'm tired of the topic, but it's where I am right now.

Running has changed me. It has made me brave and resilient. It has taught me how to fail gracefully and learn from that failure. It has given me confidence and self-understanding. It has made me reflective and introspective. Because I know I can do the impossible, I now have a deeper belief in what others can accomplish, too. Running has made me strong in my mind and my body. It has given me so much and changed me so deeply. That, friends, is #whyimove. 💕🏃🏻‍♀️

A post shared by Ali (@abk_runs) on Apr 18, 2018 at 5:59pm PDT

Right now, it almost feels like I've picked up well ahead of where I left off. I don't know how that's possible, but I'd like to stop second guessing it. My head isn't there yet, but my body certainly seems ready to move ON already! Maybe my head won't be too far behind.

ABK

The Bridge

Way back when I first started having calf pain, one of the first things I did was stop running the bridge. Elizabeth and I had been running it about four days a week during half marathon training. I attributed that bridge to my increased paces and stronger endurance when I first started running, and it has always been my favorite means of speedwork.

It was a weekly staple for me, but I haven't run it since December 2016.

Monday afternoon, while deciding where to run, Elizabeth suggested it. And I decided to take the bull by the horns.

It took me all of 2 seconds to agree. I appreciated that she pushed me out of my comfort zone!

We chose to park closer than usual to take the normal route from four miles to three. It was cool and windy thanks to whatever bizarre weather pattern is going on right now, and we had the wind at our backs for most of the run. I felt fresh from four days of rest. The first 3/4 mile was a slightly too-hard warmup. Then came the bridge.

I was surprised. It was...easy. I was nervous going in, sure my calves wouldn't be ready, but my legs and lungs actually felt alright. Good, even.

We walked at the turn-around, about 1.4 miles in, to alleviate Elizabeth's side-stitch. Then we ran back up, this time into the wind. We took a brief walk at the top. My left calf felt...something. Not tight, but stretched. Like it was saying We have not done this in a long time wtf. I've been pushing my left calf much faster than I did my right (because I can, seeing as how they've both been operated on now), so some discomfort is expected, but it's a good reminder to take it slow.

We took more walk breaks than I wanted, but considering we haven't run any inclines in over a year, I think we did pretty well. Our running paces, even up the bridge, were in the 9s. I felt fantastic.

I know I will need to build bridge runs into my routine slowly, maybe once every two weeks for now, but another mental barrier - another post-injury fear - is getting ready to fall. Soon, maybe it will be like this past year never even happened.

ABK

Thank You Notes & Other Post-Race Thoughts

In Dr. Guerra's office, behind the receptionist's desk, there is a wall of framed photos. These photos all feature grinning athletes in race gear and uniforms. One 8"x10" photo has a note scrawled across one corner: Thank you, Dr. Guerra! That wall helped give me confidence in Dr. G's surgical skills before I had even had my first consultation. By the end of my first appointment, I decided that if Dr. G could fix me, I'd send him a photo of me after my first race back.

Well, my first race back was A1A, but my first race really, truly back was this past weekend. And luckily I got a good photo out of it.

Dr. G told me it would be 3-6 months before I was back in my previous running shape. I'm about four months post-op, so I'd say I'm right on track. 

I am planning to send this photo to three doctors' offices.

1. To Dr. Guerra, of course, who believed me when I described symptoms, performed my surgeries, and gave me back my legs.

2. To my PT's office, where a variety of people helped me heal up, get strong, and return to running as quickly as possible.

3. To the vascular surgeon's office, where they dismissed my desire for real answers and treatment because "young women regret surgery scars".

Obviously I mean to thank the first two. I hope it's not premature. I'm still in recovery, and there is still time for things to go wrong...but I feel like I've definitely turned a corner.

I'm debating writing the third letter at all. I'm not sure it will change the doctor's behavior or bring me any peace - to be honest, I'm over it, so I don't need closure or anything. At the same time, maybe hearing that being a misogynistic jerk isn't the best bedside manner would do him good. I may write the letter and not even send it.

When I look at that picture, I see strength, power, determination, and joy. I see me in my element. I can't see the scars, even when I look for them.

On an unrelated note, the Fast and the Furriest was an eye-opener for me, and I can't stop thinking about what my performance this past Saturday means. For one thing, I've realized I don't need to hold back as much as I have been. Track is over, so now I can run more frequently during the week, and I am planning to build in longer runs. I'm not necessarily interested in speedwork yet; right now I'm really enjoying just running. But I have a couple more 5ks coming up in May that I'd like to crush, so we'll see.

School lets out on May 30, and I think I'd like to start working in "long runs" on the weekends at that time. I'm talking 6 or 7 miles tops.

And I am tentatively looking for a winter half marathon.

I originally wanted to run the A1A half in 2019 but won't be able to. This weekend when I caught up with Sean he brought up Space Coast, and I think that would be perfect. It was my first marathon, so running it as my first half as a comeback would be really special and would make up for missing A1A. When I floated this idea by Matt, he was all for it.

I have time to decide, of course.

All of this is very flexible right now; the main thing is that I'm enjoying running and I don't want to pile too many goals on and take away the fun of it too soon. I'm excited to train but also don't want to feel like running is a chore. Everything feels new again but also so familiar and comfortable. A huge weight has been lifted mentally - I had been feeling like my body betrayed me, and now I'm learning to trust it again.

So, for now, these tentative plans are here, floating around in my head, and I'll solidify them when I'm ready. There's no rush. Now that I know I'm coming back, I have all the patience in the world.

ABK