Looking for positives

View from Barangaroo during today's walk in Sydney

With just 500 metres to go on my first attempt to run since Sunday, my lower right calf suddenly started hurting again.  It was only a short run (6.2km) and had gone well up until that point with no pain at all.  I was just starting to congratulate myself on my injury management and plan the next few weeks training.  Then, in just a few steps, I went from optimism to frustration.

Sydney skyline from Barangaroo during today's walk

My first thoughts were that if I could just have completed the run pain free, then the injury would have another day of repairing, and tomorrow I would have had an even better chance of surviving the same short run.  More frustration.

However, later I could see a few positives from the experience.  Firstly, the injury is real and I had begun to fear it was just a niggle that could have been safely ignored in last Sunday's race.  Secondly, the "reinjury" this morning has only set me back a few days, not weeks.  And thirdly, when it happened this morning, I was near the end of the run and stopped pretty quickly so it's probably not as badly damaged as on Sunday.

Circular Quay during today's walk

The whole episode preyed on my mind all day as I walked around Sydney on a pre-committed day in town, and I think a week of walking followed by a week of short easy runs should be enough to get running seriously again without losing too much fitness.  I could feel the calf a little while walking in Sydney, but it wasn't too bad.  More like a cramp than a tear.

Changing shoes

I usually rotate my running shoes
on a regular basis

One of the ways I have managed my chronically injured heel as I have sought to get running again has been by trying to manage my footwear.

For the past twenty years I have primarily used Nike Pegasus shoes and before that various other Nike shoes, a favourite being the Nike Elite.  I'm not dogmatic about using Nike's, and have occasionally used other brands for various reasons, including New Balance and Brooks shoes for years when they sponsored me in the early 1980s.

One reason Nike shoes has found favour with me is because they have tended to have higher heels with a larger drop between the heel and forefoot.  This decreases the range of Achilles tendon movement and I have always had problems with my Achilles (three operations on the left and one on the right).

However, even wearing the Nikes, my right heel was exceptionally painful a year or so ago, and not just because of Achilles tendonitis.  It was also highly sensitive to touch, often with searing hot pain on the surface of the back of the heel, even when just lying in bed, and there was a dull deep pain under the heel.

I have got back to running, despite medical advice that the heel was just worn out, by trying to treat all three problems after initially having nearly six months off running in the hope rest would fix it.  I'm sure the rest did help, but the methods below also made a big difference when I resumed trying to run.

The Nike Elite was my favourite training shoe for many years

Firstly, I decided to raise the heel even further, and after experimenting with various brands of heel raises found some hard 6mm raises that self-glue onto the heel of the shoe under the insole.  This means that my heel drop has gone from the standard Nike Pegasus drop of 12mm to 18mm, not ideal because it places extra strain on the tendon under the foot, risking plantar fasciitis, but workable for me.

Secondly, I decided I needed to reduce pressure on the heel from the shoe and increased my shoes size by a half and tried some shoes that gripped differently on the heel.  After research I found the New Balance 880v4 had the same heel drop as the Nike Pegasus (12mm) and I tried running in them for a change.  I also tied the shoe on my right foot exceptionally loosely (the usual test being the ability to put two fingers between the shoe and my heel) and got in the habit of smearing vaseline on the back of the heel to reduce friction.  It felt strange at first and my foot has come out of the shoe while running on a couple of occasions, not to mention more debris finding its way into the shoe during trail runs, but it's manageable.

Thirdly, I rested the underneath of the heel, which felt deeply bruised, by modifying my running style to favour the heel and try to avoid unnecessary pounding, particularly down hills.

Over time, the heel pain has generally diminished, though always there.  To reduce the chances of recurrence, I have also bought some larger Nike Pegasus shoes and now alternate so the shoe grip pressure changes regularly.

My latest heel pain setback occurred wearing the New Balance, so I am wearing the Nike more often, though still changing every couple of days.  This morning, after four or five days of New Balance, I switched to the Nikes for my short 6.5km run, and the pain was much reduced from yesterday.  Enough to convince me that I can get around the Deep Space Mountain Marathon on Sunday.  It's a two-lap course, so I can always pull out after one if the heel is bad.

Tempting Fate

Waiting for the start of my comeback race in
March 2015 near St Louis, Missouri.

It has been more than fifteen months since my last blog post and for much of that time I have been unable to run.  The right heel problem referred to in my last post worsened and scans revealed significant damage. I was told that my serious running days were over (not for the first time in the last 30 years!).  The best I could reasonably hope for was to jog 5km a few times a week.

The pain was significant in multiple areas of the heel and I stopped running and started mountain biking as a means of keeping fit.  In March of this year, I resumed jogging, strongly motivated by the opportunity to run, three weeks later, a favourite event in the US for the first time since the mid-1990s. Through experimentation and experience, I have learned to manage the heel in a number of different ways.  Much to my astonishment, I have been able to run, relatively uninterrupted, for the last six months and reached a level of fitness sufficient to resurrect the faint hope of running a good marathon time.

The heel still causes me problems, along with all of the other niggles a 64 year old runner endlessly gets, but I am enjoying my running and still seeing improvement.  I have picked out a marathon in April of next year, six months away, and will now chart my progress towards that race in this blog.  To run a good time, I will have to remain relatively uninjured for the six months, an unlikely prospect.  Just restarting the blog makes me feel like I am tempting fate!

Who's up and who's down

Down - walking dejectedly away from the
finish of the 1982 Montreal Marathon
(46th, 2:29, "possibly my worst
performance ever") where I struggled
with an Achilles problem and the effects
of anti-inflammatories

I didn't get time to warm up much this morning for the Terrigal Trotters Flat (mis-named) 10km Time Trial, so started slowly and nursed my sore Achilles and knee through the early kilometres.  Consistent with the feeling I've had this week that I have somehow "bottomed out" in my running, I felt I was moving better and running more strongly than for the past month or so.  Nevertheless, I lack race fitness and stamina, flagged on the hills and found the last half hard.  My time of 44:52 was about what I had expected, though I had feared it might be worse as I slowed during the second half.
The monthly Time Trial is always a good bench-marking event, though you can't get too excited about who you beat and who beats you.  This is because nobody is at their peak or nadir all of the time.  There were runners in front of me this morning who I might have hoped to beat if fit.  At other times, when I was running well, they would have had the same thoughts about me.  Running and fitness is cyclical, maybe because of illness or injury, or maybe because of work or family commitments.  For some runners, staleness becomes an issue, training and racing become chores, and they seem to lose their "mojo" for a period of time.

Down - dealing with a serious lower
back injury in the early 1980s that
 cost a lot of running time

At a race like today's it is possible to identify people at all stages of the cycle.  You feel pleased for those on the upswing or at their peak, and sad for those whose performances are sub-par for some reason.  Within Trotters, it's great to see some people running very well at the moment who have struggled for the past year or longer.  They are loving that sense of capability and potential that comes with race fitness and are relishing the opportunity to compete in events denied to them in the last couple of years.  I feel very happy for them, but also want to tell them not to overdo it and to savour this period when everything is going well.

Up - running well and centre picture in the first
Melbourne Marathon in 1978 (2nd, 2:23)

Then there are others struggling to keep running with injuries or illness, or maybe just resigned to walking until they feel better.  At this stage it's easy for them to feel depressed and dispirited.  Every runner knows (and most non-runners don't) the frustration that accompanies the inability to run regularly for whatever reason.  Continuing to associate, socially, with those who are running regularly can make the pain even more exquisite, though those same people are also best equipped to empathise.  I feel sad for those who are struggling, but also want to tell them that their time at the top of the cycle will come again if they have patience, that they should use their downtime wisely, and that, believe it or not, there are more important things in life than running.

Strategising

Crossing Austria as part of my 2012 Via Alpina hike

I did manage to run 5km this morning, but I felt slow and heavy-legged.  I took care to minimise the strain on my injured right knee and it survived the distance without getting worse, but my right Achilles tendon was sore and I didn't feel like I was moving well.  With an Achilles tendon injury, my body subconsciously responds to the pain signals by shortening my stride length and avoiding pushing off too hard from that leg.  The consequence is an inefficient gait, more effort to run at the same speed, and premature fatigue.

Crossing a river on the Old Telegraph Track in Far North
Queensland during my ride between the southernmost and
northernmost tips of the Australian mainland in 2006

Even accounting for the Achilles and knee problems, running has been a chore of late.  Apart from a very modest performance at the Woodford to Glenbrook 25km a few weeks ago, satisfying runs have been scarce for three months.  It's enough to make me wonder whether I need some kind of circuit breaker, a period where my body can get back on an even keel.  In the last ten years, such a circuit breaker has been provided by the annual hiking or biking adventures I have been lucky enough to enjoy in retirement.  In almost every case, I have finished the adventure feeling fit, strong, refreshed and ready to resume my running career.  Maybe it's been one of the reasons my running career has lasted through these last ten years.

My intention had been to dedicate myself to running the best marathon I possibly could in the period up until mid-2014, but I'm worried that my right Achilles tendon injury might be a show-stopper.  My favourite medico, Dr Jon, is away for a few weeks, but when he gets back, I intend to find out whether surgery is needed.  My expectation is that I have a calcification on the heel which is inflaming the tendon and will need to be removed.  An MRI will tell the tale.  If surgery is required, then it will almost certainly involve a lengthy rehabilitation period and the shelving of any short-to-medium term running ambitions.  It may be the right time to embark on another hiking expedition, once ankle function has been regained, and I'll be looking at the Pacific Crest Trail in the United States and the Te Araroa Trail in New Zealand (see Downtime post) as primary candidates.

For the time being, however, I'll soldier on as best I can, hoping that something turns up, and continue the blog.

Despondency

Central Park, Malvern

Sadly, it was evident to me after a few hundred metres of jogging this morning that my right arch is still not right.  I feel a weakness in the arch that causes me to slap my foot down more than I would like, so the problem remains.  It was very tempting to keep jogging, which I could have easily done, but common sense finally prevailed, and I walked the remaining 3km of my loop in very cold conditions, cursing my bad fortune.  Even crossing Malvern's Central Park near the end of my walk didn't raise my spirits.  Thirty years ago, I used to run along the eastern border of this small suburban park during one of my favourite mid-week long runs after work.  It was a source of inspiration then, and now, knowing that one of my childhood heroes, John Landy, spent many hours training there.

John Landy leads the Mile in the 1954 Empire
Games in Vancouver

It's hard to explain to someone who is not a runner how much you miss it when you can't run.  The warm and sweaty glow, the breathlessness, the tired limbs, the feeling of physical capability and power, and the sense of having done something worthwhile all contribute to a sense of well-being.  I have tried cycling, kayaking and swimming as substitutes when injured previously, but none of them quite fits the bill.

I came home from my walk and devoted an hour or two surfing medical websites trying to match my symptoms and work out the best rehabilitation plan.  Of course, I could go and see a doctor, get scans, orthotics, etc., but I do feel the injury is repairing, but it's slower than I hoped.  After looking at various possible diagnoses, the one which most matches my symptoms and seems the most probable is a minor strain of the Posterior Tibial Tendon.  The suggested treatment is rest and an arch support, and the pain is likely to last three months or longer.  The treatment wasn't very different for the other foot injuries that shared my symptoms, so there doesn't seem to be much point in pursuing medical help at this stage.

However, another three to five weeks of rest will certainly rule out any chance of a good performance in the Melbourne Marathon, so I need to reassess my goals and change my plans.  I do need a goal to give my recuperation and running a focus, but there's no need for a hasty decision.  I won't design a training program for another marathon, perhaps Hobart in January, until I'm sure that I will be able to train free of pain.

In the short-term, I do need to get my diet back "on the wagon", and work out whether I want to try cycling while the arch heals.  The argument for cycling is that it will give my cardio-vascular system a work out, but the arguments against include the inconvenience and my view that cycling builds leg muscles I don't need for running and will slow my comeback when I begin running again.  I'll take another few days to think about it.

Compensatory eating

When cycling all day, as was the case during my Round Australia
record attempts, the "Big Breakfast" was a daily feature of my
diet, with no weight impact.

The last three weeks of no running has been a test of my dietary willpower, and I'm starting to lose the battle.  I have never been someone who is naturally thin.....and I like my food.  In my teens and twenties, I didn't worry about what I ate at all.  Youthful musculature and plenty of miles, was enough to keep me at a good running weight.  When I reached my running peak, I began to take more care with what I ate but my best racing weight remained around 64kg, with the lightest I ever remember recording being 61kg.

In my latter years, I have considered 66-68kg to be my desirable running weight, but on occasions, have been as high as 76kg.  If I stop running and eat what I feel like, I can rapidly gain those 8kg, and it takes much longer to lose them again.

A few years ago, it became obvious to me that even when running 80-100 kilometres per week, if I didn't watch what I ate, my weight stabilised around 72kg, too heavy to run really well.  In a somewhat obvious epiphany, I realised that my body was no longer able to support the running necessary to bring down my weight, and that if I wanted to maintain a reasonable running weight and stay healthy for my remaining years, I was going to have to cut down on my eating.

Since then, with the exception of hiking and biking trips, I have adhered to some fairly simple dietary rules - no snacks, no desserts and no second helpings.  As a further measure, I limit the size of my breakfast (usually one slice of toast with peanut butter plus a large fruit juice) and eat it as late as possible, and limit the size of my lunch to one sandwich.  Dinner tends to be larger, but limited to one plate only.  I don't drink alcohol or sugared soft drinks, but do drink a lot of diet cola.  Limited treats (maybe chocolate or corn chips) are allowed after long runs or during trips to the cinema.  I try not to beat myself up if I stray occasionally, and permit limited dietary holidays for Easter, Christmas, etc.

This regime has worked well to keep my weight in the 66-68kg range for most of the last three or four years, but I always struggle a bit when I have to stop running because of injury, and that has been the case this week.  One factor is despondency about my injury and its impact on my Melbourne Marathon ambitions.  Another is the change to my daily routine because of my trip to Melbourne.  It has become very easy to have a biscuit for morning tea, or some dessert after dinner.  Partly, it's because I like my food, but partly it is driven by the need for a "feel good" replacement for the running I am missing.  Of course, the "feel good" part only lasts for a few minutes, while the physical consequences can last a lot longer.

I didn't find time to do my scheduled 5km walk today, but still plan to run and walk 5km tomorrow.  It will be the first running I have done for three weeks.  Normally that would be enough time for a soft tissue injury to repair, but I fear I may have walked a little too much in the first week I had off running.  Time will tell.  I'm confident that if I can resume regular running, then I will find it easier to resume my dietary discipline.  If still hampered by injury, then I will have to give myself a good "talking to" about my deteriorating dietary habits.  It's hard enough to come back from injury.  If you are carrying extra kilograms, it not only becomes even harder, but the risk of other injury increases because of the extra weight you are carrying.

In search of information

Despite not planning to run, or even walk very much, I rose very early and joined the throng building on the Terrigal waterfront at 5:30am for the 6:00am Trotters' run.  It was cold and I was wearing jeans and multiple layers, making it obvious to everybody that I wasn't going to be running.  As usual, there was lots of animated conversation, and people were sympathetic to my plight.  At 6am, the place cleared and I plugged in my earphones and wandered off for a gentle stroll along the waterfront and through the shopping precinct listening to the latest audio version of The Economist (published Friday nights), while the sun gradually coloured the eastern sky and silhouetted the fishing boats heading out to sea.  I really really wanted to go for a run, but there's just enough sensitivity in my right arch to convince me that there still may be a problem and running could potentially set me back.



Comparison of planned and actual marathon training outcomes

Later in the day, as I despaired of my chances of running strongly again within a few months, I devoted some time to analysing how much training I had done compared to plan, and how my marathon preparations had gone in a previous era.

Most of my working life was spent managing and analysing data and information, and I have a passion for numbers.  So, it's not surprising that I have diaries for fifteen of my prime running years in which I planned and analysed my training from many aspects.  One of my base measures was the seven-day running mileage total and I took a look at the twenty weeks leading up to my best marathon time in 1979, and compared it to the twenty weeks leading up to this year's Melbourne Marathon.

Not surprisingly, when in full training, I was averaging more than twice the mileage.  However, perhaps the most valuable information was that in the lead-up to that race in 1979 I lost significant training time to a quadriceps tear and a serious bout of tonsillitis, and had a few very poor race performances along the way.

The lesson for me is not to lose faith in my ability as I encounter obstacles, lose training time, or perform badly.  I have often said that potential is defined by your best performances (and training), not your worst.

Downtime

Another quiet day on the exercise front.  I didn't even go for a walk after the morning track session at The Haven.  There are still occasional traces of pain in my right arch when I walk, but certainly not bad enough to prevent me running if I wanted too.  I just have to tell myself that these few days, and perhaps weeks, will pass quickly enough and I will be glad I didn't try and rush back too early.  That's the theory, anyway.



Three failed attempts to break the record for riding solo
and unsupported around Australia occupied injury time
(2007, 2008 and 2009).

When running plays as large a part in your life as it has in mine, the absence of running leaves a large void that is easily filled with self-pity and eating.  Back in my prime, when I was running 200+ kilometres a week, these voids were even larger and sometimes longer.  I soon learned that the best way of managing them was to fill the space with meaningful activity and see them as an opportunity.  If other activities I enjoyed were still possible, such as hiking, bike-riding or kayaking, then I would pursue those.  If I could give myself some kind of challenge, then even better.  When studying, it was a chance to complete assignments.  In a worst-case scenario, it might mean some long-delayed DIY work around the house or gardening.


I completed the 250km River Murray Red Cross
Canoe Marathon twice while unable to run (circa 1980).

This week, I have spent a lot of time on detailed planning for my next adventure (since retiring, I've tried to have at least one adventure each year).  Two options I'm considering involve hiking part, or all, of two famous long-distance trails.  One is the 3,000 kilometre Te Araroa Trail which runs the length of New Zealand and the other is the 4,200 kilometre Pacific Crest Trail which follows the crest of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade mountain ranges from Mexico to Canada in the western US .  Both are on my "bucket list".  However, before committing I want to have a good idea of the terrain, gear I will need, the distance between resupply options, likely weather, best timing, and so on.  I enjoy the research, and it gives me something positive to think about, and anticipate, at a time when frustrated by my inability to run.

Three days lost

Training for a marathon has seemed a distant fantasy for the past three days.



Crossing the line in the 1982 Boston Marathon
(49th in 2:22:39)

I woke early on Sunday morning with a severe headache followed by bouts of vomiting and dry retching and twelve hours later, at Sharon's insistence, was in the local hospital's Emergency Department on a drip having various tests and a brain scan.  The tests failed to show anything untoward and they eventually sent me home with instructions to return if there was no improvement.  I spent the next 36 hours in bed sleeping and dozing.  My headache gradually abated as my ability to keep down fluids and food gradually returned.  There was no thought of any exercise.

Today, although still feeling a bit spaced out, I have returned to the world of the living and am eating and drinking normally.  I'm hoping my ailment was just some kind of 48-hour bug I picked up, though the hospital tests didn't identify any viruses.  I decided not to exercise today either, and will now have missed three complete days.  The downtime seems to have been the catalyst for a more realistic assessment of my marathon training plan.  There was still some specific pain in my right arch when I got up this morning and I have decided I would be smarter to continue resting it than to resume jogging this week as intended.



Showing off my Boston Marathon medal after
the post-race presentation (it is engraved
Top 10, though awarded to each of the top
50 in recognition of the growth in numbers).

I know I am vacillating on the rehabilitation plan, but I am starting to recognise that there's less than 14 weeks to the Melbourne Marathon and my chances of a sub-3 are diminishing with each day that passes when I cannot train properly.  The pressure to resume training too quickly comes from the approaching Melbourne Marathon deadline and the reality is that Melbourne race is not the only race around.  Although I'm getting older as every day passes, there's no real reason why I should run slower in, say, January 2014, than in October 2013.  It's more a function of the length of the injury-free training lead up, than of age.

So, for now, I'm not even going to walk any distance until I feel the right arch is better.  If I'm lucky enough to be running pain-free by the end of next week, then I'm still a chance to be fit enough to run well in Melbourne.  If not, I'll just have to postpone my ambition for a couple of months and hope I get a better training lead-up.

Highs and lows

Just over a week ago, I rose early with a sense of enthusiasm and anticipation for my Saturday morning Trotters' run, knowing that I had reshaped my hiking body into a running body.  I ran well, felt fit, and publicised to the world my plans for a sub-3 hour Melbourne Marathon in October.

The next day my right arch was a bit sore, for no known reason, and now, eight days later, I had great trouble dragging myself out of bed for my Sunday morning run.  My sleep had been disturbed many times during the night by the sharp pain in my right arch.  I was now struggling to come to terms with the likelihood that my chances of October marathon success were now much reduced and eventually conceded that a Sunday run was a bad idea.



Looking south from Cromarty Hill

I had managed to get through yesterday's hard run despite the sore arch and the emotional part of my brain was telling me that I should stick to my training plan, ignore the pain, and eventually it would go away and I would have lost little time and fitness in my marathon quest.

The rational part of my brain was telling me that the pain would just get worse and worse if I tried to train through it, and the worse it got, the longer it would take to get better.  I knew, deep within myself, that I had to get the arch right, and be sure it was right, before I tried to resume hard training.  My benchmark rehab time for soft tissue injuries is three weeks, but maybe I can get away with losing less fitness if I can do some walking and light jogging during those three weeks.  We went for an easy family walk in the afternoon from Crackneck to Cromarty Hill and the discomfort wasn't too bad, but when I tried to jog for a few steps, there was sharp pain high in the arch.

My general plan will now be to walk about 5km each day this week, jog and walk next week, and jog the week after.  I will only follow this plan if there is no pain at each stage, and only shorten the staged rehab if I'm very confident the arch can handle it.  I have already lost a week through not immediately resting it when the pain first became apparent last weekend.  However, on balance, it was probably worth taking the chance that the injury was not serious.  The goal now is to not compound the error by trying to come back too soon again.  In the back of my mind, I know I need to begin coming to terms with the probability that sub-3 in Melbourne is unlikely.  In the scheme of things, it's not really a big deal.  I did expect that injury would intervene, but right now it's very disappointing.