Thursday, June 30, 2016

Surving Injury, Becoming Stronger (3/6/16)



Surviving Injury, Becoming Stronger
Every serious runner has seen that nasty porta-potty, streams of toilet paper guiding you to its repugnant entrance like the yellow brick road. The smell beckons a gag even after unsuccessful attempts to mouth breath as you approach its daunting entrance. But, you gotta do what you gotta do. I bet any passionate runner would prance on in, lick the seat, and seal a deal with the devil himself to avoid the dreaded: INJURY. Nasty visual, yes…but a little barbeque sauce and I'd be the first volunteer.

A recent injury and setback has invaded the deepest depths of my mind while restricting my training, sidelining me from running altogether.  This is a bad combination and I feel the utmost empathy for my friends, family, and society in general. Historically I haven't dealt with injury well. Finding myself in the seventh circle of Hell supported by physical therapy, anti-infammatories, and random bouts of insanity, I knew I needed to get a grip and make the best out of this unsolicited time off. Self examination as well as an extensive survey of reality has lead to significant observations. Much like any loss, I found myself cruising through the stages of grief, hovering in some more than others. To counteract this natural sequence of fate, I've learned that acknowledging each stage and then conquering it with conscious effort not only moves me quicker through the series, but also makes me a stronger runner and better asset to my peers and society overall. My thoughts on the stages runners injury grief:

1. Denial: "Nope, I'm not limping..it's just my swagger." Denial is a sneaky bastard. Progressive injuries can sneak into your life that a roofy in your IPA. Everything feels funny, you know you're not quite right, but you keep your eyes on the prize and keep running. Next thing you know your on your back and you’re an unwilling star in a YouTube video. Wait..what? Anyways..
My body and brain fight itself when there is even a hint of possibility that a nagging 'ouch' is creeping into trauma. Too often I have found that my frontal lobe (decision making) of my brain screaming at me but my limbic system (driven by emotion) flips it the bird and takes over my body, thriving on pure emotional desire and passion for the trails. Mid-race and injury-free, this is a phenomenal asset and has driven me to podium finishes. However, all too often denial results in injury being the ultimate victor.
Overcoming denial: Evoke outside opinion, but choose your victim wisely. I am blessed to have pals that specialize in the medical field who will give it to me straight…usually hiding behind a barrier with a buddy to act as witness. I may or may not have been compared to Tyler Durden, 'Fight Club'. Make sure that you are prepared for an outsider's perspective and be gracious. Education, science, and fact will trump any argument, pushing denial to a place in your mind that cannot be justified.. unless justification mimics ignorance. Also, don't forget to thank your victim and at no point should the F bomb be part of this courtesy.

2. Anger: "SOB! MF! ((..Ipod flies through the air)) I'm running sub-7's and now this? This is absolute horsesh!t!!!" I can't imagine the insane lunatic that would utter those words and throw stuff. Umm.. Disappointment at a level that is so disruptive to your lifestyle will definitely tip toe on anger. Heck, it may do the friggin cha-cha. Just like any emotion, it's natural and specific to the host.
Overcoming anger: Go ahead, let it out. Scream, cry, and punch stuff (nothing with a pulse) if nature calls. However, your REACTION to anger is what we need to pay attention to here. I tend to turn into a hermit at this stage which is probably the best and has kept my criminal record spick and span.
There is a legit physiological reaction in the body that supports and encourages these strong emotions. Dopamine is released in our brains when we are happy and when the prime source of dopamine release comes from trails, the consequences can be significant. Be real; your life isn't over if you have to hang up your Altras for a bit. Expand your mind, open yourself to new experiences that make you happy, and don't be a dick. Nonrunners will not understand and even seasoned runners will eventually tell you to suck it up and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I recently chatted with another Y member on the bike who is battling skin cancer. Reality check.
Find a healthy anger release: Cross train like a beast; write a blog; clean the hell out of your house; take up competitive ax throwing (it's a thing, really). You get it. Just remember that anger is healthy and and natural but a poor reaction to it isn't.

3. Bargaining: Trying to bargain while injured only encourages thinking and actions that will slow the healing process. I've done it. I've told myself that I will only run 20 instead of a marathon. To me, it's a perfectly reasonable deal and my prize would be that I would be less injured. Ridiculous. I might as well just beat myself with a mallet instead of stepping in front of a semi. There is logic here, but it's laced with denial.
Overcoming bargaining stage: Don't be an idiot.

4. Depression: Guilty, guilty, guilty. This is the real deal for many runners for losing something (even temporarily) that has become a part of their day, their month, their lifestyle. This is the result of the loss of running, supported by a decrease of dopamine release, missing out on the awesome adrenaline surges, and overall biological body orgasm that results from such a magnificence that can only be captured by running. Before your know it, you are sitting on your butt eating bon bons while icing your injury and contemplating the meaning of life. You start to question things you have never questioned and pessimism dominates every thought. You look at your Lone Peaks in the corner, still covered in mud from your last trail run, and instinctively move them out of sight. The struggle is real.
Overcoming depression: Knock it off! Life is NOT over; it's an injury not the friggin plague. Negative thoughts will breed negative actions. As most ultrarunners know, the mental strength of an individual will make or break a runner. Tapping into positive thinking then moving it to positive action will put the situation into perspective. Suggestions relevant to your running:
·         Eat right; raw, less processed foods are natural healers and anti-inflammatories. Goggle it and then load up on super foods. Try new recipes and schedule your eating as religiously as you scheduled your runs. Exploring new, better eating habits will not only have a physical benefit but will consume your down time. Check out different supplements and integrate them with nutrition. Stress fractures require bone healing so jack up your Calcium, Magnesium, Vitamin D, etc…and don't forget to drink more water! Remember that caffeine and alcohol actually inhibits healing. (Boo!) Nutrition planning and implementation is a HUGE factor in injury recovery. Keep in mind that you are eating for fuel and recovery, not entertainment. Read that last sentence again, it's worth it. Many resources will highlight that you actually need to increase your caloric intake when the body is healing. No, this doesn't mean you can super-size. Be smart about this and choose your calories wisely.
·         Cross-train; listen to your doctor obviously. If you are an athlete, you will not be able to stop being an athlete, regardless if you're broken. Make sure that when your doctor tells you what you can't do, ask what you can do. Many people get so caught up in the bad news that they don't have the perspective to learn about healthy alternatives. You may require some time off if the trauma is severe, so deal with it. Your muscles and endocrine system may literally need some chill time to recover back to their normal, functional state. Start planning your cross training during this time, research exercises, and get psyched to build a stronger body. Build up your core. Too many of us runners are focused on mileage and we cut our time allowance short on building our core, stretching and range of motion, and building up supportive muscles. My triathlete background kicks in immediately when I'm hurting and I dominate the bike, bands, machines, weights, and even that damn pool. It's a common sight to see me pool-running and highly suggest it to any runner.
·         Think about your form. Review race pictures and look at your stance and body positioning. I know that many resources will tell you to avoid reminiscing about your running but I think that's a bunch of crap. Learn from your past to build a stronger future. Check out your pics..how is your head positioning, arm swings, posture, chest, heel touch? And, are you smiling? I could talk for days on any of these factors but I'll bore you another time.
·         Give back.  Ultrarunning has given me more than I could ever ask for and I always try and keep that in perspective and pay my respects: Work an aid station at a race. Crew your buddy. Help an up and coming runner work on their form. Make training suggestions. Blog your random brain spews. Inspire, motivate, and respect your sport with the highest integrity. How many times that you seen an individual that's not in the best of shape working their butt off at the gym. Tell them you respect their focus on improving their health…or just offer up a high five. It speaks volumes and benefits both the giver and the recipient. Be an active member of your running community and respect the sport that has changed your life.
·         Read. Learn about the origin of your favorite race or running mentor..maybe their aspirations and trials will strike a chord with you. Read about an upcoming goal race and keep the excitement coursing through your veins. This may be hard at first but once you can come to grips with the fact that you are one day closer to running through smart, active recovery, all will be well.
·         Keep your workout routines. If  on Monday you typically run high intensity ten miles, fill that time slot with a high intensity bike ride that takes just as long. Empty, purposeless time that was previously run time can either be an opportunity or threat to your sanity. The choice is yours.

Take advantage of your recovery time to step outside of running as well. Pick up low impact sports. I've restored my love for rock climbing and most recently, a little boxing.
Grow intellectually or spiritually. Choose an author that challenges your mind. Personally I would recommend Ideas and Opinions by Albert Einstein, or anything by Edgar Allen Poe.
Volunteer in your community and serve the less fortunate. It's sad that we instigate this behavior due to injury, but better late than never. It's important to realize that we aren't the center of the world and there are communities of people and demographics with demons that will far outweigh our own. Be humble.
5. Acceptance. Congrats, you've reached stage that only comes from humbling acknowleding that you aren't the center of the universe and the sun did not explode extinguishing life as you know it because you can't run.
Embracing acceptance: Make the best out of your time to grow as a runner, an individual, a friend, a family member, a community member, and a representative of our running family. You will survive (hopefully without having to sign a contract with Satan) and if you are smart, you'll learn from your experience.

Lace up when the time is right. My plan is to return to running a week after I think I am ready. My passion for running can be cunning as hell, so I'm trying to proactively beat myself at my own game. Let that marinate.
Injuries don't have to own you. If you find yourself bowing to your injury you may need to examine your overall strength, focus, and..in some cases..intelligence. Take control, be determined, and make decisions to come out on top.

Steph Whitmore
3/6/16

Black Canyon 100k (2/14/16)



When I think of cactus and desert my mind may or may not (it did) go to the coyote and roadrunner cartoons that were a staple source of childhood entertainment back in the day when cartoons were legit. I've seen coyotes now and then over my years of travel but they've never seemed horribly confident. Wile E. Coyote was the exception to the rule I guess. The few times I've seen them it's only been for a few seconds as they scurry off out of sight. My perspective of these animals have always been a bit skewed by this as the National Geographic Channel painted pictures of them thriving in groups, a strong family, and howling at the moon as if they are a mini wolf pack. I have often joked around with friends when running night trails, howling out my own version of coyote calls and intimidation. I don't think any of them were ever intimidated but it added a little carnal flair.
Cactus was always just a wallflower in those cartoons. Occasionally, Wile E. would have the candid misfortune to land directly on the only cactus for miles during a failed plot to capture the intelligible roadrunner. Never did I see him use the cactus as shade; clearly he has never run the Black Canyon 100k in Arizona.
Since the Ultragods decided my pulling my name in the Western States Lottery wasn't in the stars this last time around, I humbly bowed in acceptance and geared my energies to locking down my next qualifying race. The options were overwhelming but my logic lead me to narrow down courses that was early in the year, got me the hell out of Iowa during winter, and somewhere new with terrain that was foreign to me. As much as I wanted Rocky Raccoon redemption, it became apparent that my focus was strictly improving my time (not limping for 20 miles would have shaved some numbers for sure..). Reality hit me once this was truly revealed to me and I was pissed at myself. At what point did my running turn into a showdown against the clock?? Hell no. This is NOT why I run and I was pissed that my egocentric mind even went there.  I run for the run and I reminded myself that.
Black Canyon 100k is sexy as hell no matter how you look at it. I was drawn to the raw terrain first and foremost. (Masochists unite). In true Steph fashion, the more I read about the course challenges (especially for a Midwest challenger), the more I smiled. Would this be painful? Yes..But I had a gut feeling that I would love every painful, wonderful minute. I embrace opportunities for vulnerability and my aspirations are always laced with a little pain. If your goals don't scare you, you aren't dreaming big enough.
 I want to sample our nation's courses and hitting up new routes with variables that are not familiar/easy to me can only be opportunities for growth. I want to improve and if getting my ass handed to me on a ridiculously hot and dangerous course was my path to education then I guess I should jack up my life insurance policy. I am a firm believer that breaking down walls to reach new personal enlightenment can only be done when we are most vulnerable and exposed. Experiencing tribulation will teach you far more than living with your head in the clouds and feet firmly planted on comfortable ground. Time for me to fire up the jet pack.
Looking at the elevation level and comparing it to Iowa caught my attention. Additionally, knowing the air/O2 exchange was going to be alien was a tad intimidating. The course map showed a decent drop after the early miles in the race so I was hoping that my performance would improve slightly after the first 20 miles or so. Clearly I didn't factor in the climbing temperature after these 'early miles.' Duh dummy..Details to come.
I took a good look at the race direction. I've said it before and I'll say it again, ultras races hosted by ultrarunners are far superior in every aspect. I'll run another Aravaipa race again without a doubt.
Logistics and lodging were locked down and I hit submit on ultrasignup.com and locked down my February WSQ race.
Arizona rocks my world. Sadly, this Iowan could have used a few days acclimatize and prep before taking on a grueling 100k. I noticed the dryness in the air immediately and began experiencing allergy-like symptoms which included a runny nose that literally had a mind of its own. I think I was randomly dripping snot through the day, my pals found that deliciously hot I'm sure. Snot turned a little bloody on occasion but I guess that was a taste (literally) of was yet to come. ((You're welcome for the details, by the way..stop reading at any moment.)) It seemed that I couldn't drink enough and experience a dull headache after arriving Friday morning that persisted until about an hour ago. Luckily these symptoms took my focus away from a nagging tibia/soleus/popliteus injury. "Are you hurt or are you injured?!?" I wasn't sure and I didn't want to think about it. That annoying, mindful angel on my shoulder was strumming her harp and trying to convince me to possibly sit this one out and maybe work an aid station so I don't make it worse…However, that metalhead devil on my other shoulder was blasting Godsmack so loud that I couldn't hear a damn thing the winged pixie said. So, that's that I guess.
After a nightmare situation with my hotel resulted in an unexpected upgrade to a full suite, I conceded to my room for the evening after a long day of Russian massages, a little hiking, race expo, shopping, and eating lobster. It was a good day.
I was forced to purchase a lighter race singlet and I wasn't very pleased. It was a little girly for my taste but I pressed on. Prepping for race morning, I laid out my gear and drop bags and stocked them with my Honey Stinger nutrition. I figured melting was going to be an issue so I went heavy on a favorite-Strawberry Kiwi HS gel. My Altra Lone Peaks were ready for race debut looking borderline orgasmic and almost seemed eager for the thrashing of their life. Soon, my pets, soon…
 RACE MORNING
Ahh..race morning! Inhale the awesome and let it permeate through every vein in your body!! I love race morning. You see every emotion on every spectrum and I could relate with all of them. It was clear that this race (being a Golden Ticket and WSQ race) attracted some elite runners and I was incredibly humbled. It was simply killer talking 'ultra' with these animals and my excitement was fueled by every conversation. Visually it was a friggin eye-fest. Sick tattoos, latest/greatest hydro pack gear, and a plethora of Altras! Seeing Altra at a race locally fairly rare at the moment but it took over at least half of the demographic at this race. Based on the talent present, I call that a huge statement for company and I was a beaming Altra ambassador that day…
Jamil rocked the RD position like a champ and before I knew it we were shivering on the Mayer high school track about ready to the Black Canyon 100k. Looking around for the final time was a moment that I will cherish. The sun was teasing its arrival over the beautiful Arizona mountains and I was standing next to Sage Canaday (ultimate winner and new CR holder!) and Hal Koerner. To my right were a few record-breaking female elites who welcomed a friendly huddle as we gathered to keep warm. It didn't matter who you were, who your sponsor was or what shoes you were wearing..we were all united by the same love of ultra and it was beautiful.
GO TIME
5, 4, 3, 2, 1..the uniform chime of Garmins announced the start as we jetted off for an introductory lap around the track. It didn't take long for the electrified herd of animals to thin out and the leaders to take their place in hierarchy.
The first couple miles took us out towards the trail; true single track with multiple sections that were impossible to pass on initially. I found a nice group to pace with and they kept pushing. I liked that. The foreign air felt heavy on my lungs and it seemed as if I was carrying a weighted pack on my back and was dragging two toddlers on my feet. Everything felt heavy and it was less than enjoyable. I recalled a similar feeling early in a Cali race and I prayed it was subside. The crunch of the rock and gravel on the dry trail was music to my ears. No one spoke on these early miles and the look of focus was plastered all over our faces. As the sun began peeking over the mountain backdrop it was clear that this beauty was also a beast. The sheer brightness was blinding and I was thankful I had my visor. I pulled it down over most of my face and just focused on the 3-5 feet of trail in front of me. From the second my Lone Peaks hit the trail, it was clear that any variation from eyes on trail could cost me a sprained ankle at the minimum.  Focus was imperative.
My tibia injury wasn't great and by about mile 4 I could tell that my right quad was already stressing from overcompensating. I tried not to limp, knowing it would throw off a chain reaction of compensation pain. I directed my concentration to breathing (as I was struggling) and form, keeping my posture positioning primary and ensuring every moment was as efficient as possible. This was my saving grace. In my current situation, I knew that I couldn't run a 100k. However, I knew that if I focused on properly executing a 1k…I could do it one hundred times. Perspective is everything. #RaceSecretsRevealed
I was reminded by the elite level of the racers when it seemed that no one was wasting time to stop at the first aid station. The sunrise also welcomed temps that pierced my Iowa skin immediately. Again, this is not was a homegrown Midwestern was accustomed to so it did shoot a little fear into me when projecting my course strategy. I wanted so badly to stop admire the beauty and serenity of my surroundings but I couldn't. Random pointy rocks seem to pop up out of nowhere and pretty much flip you the bird. Defensive running was introduced to my strategy..thank God I'm a natural fighter so I smirked at the chance to go toe to toe with Arizona.
Pack leaders in the crew I paced with juggled and we all took our lead turns. Within a few hours most of us were spread out. My breathing had improved in almost exact correlation with the elevation map that I had branded in my head. The last few days of treadmill running in prep for the race included me staring at a visual of the course map and elevation charts. The up and downs actually formed a bit of a story in my mind but since it's innately explicit I will keep this tale to myself. This is a family channel ya know.

The warm sun morphed into an angry abuser in a blink of an eye. I expected heat but this wasn't the heat that my naive mind had planned on. I recalled Psycho Wyco, a demoralizing 50k I ran a couple years back that beat me to a pulp. This was worse by multitudes. I knew I was sweating but the only fluid dripping from my body was a relentless runny nose. My skin was completely dry but caked with a layer of salt that I could scrape off. I had run for 4 or 5 hours and sucking down as much electrolyte-based hydration as possible and had no sensation of needing to paint rocks (pee) at all. Knowing my body, I knew this was a problem.
One of the many phenomenal aid station vols warned me about the upcoming section of the course. She said in all seriousness that if racers are going to drop, this is where it's going to happen. This section winds runners out of the Black Canyon where temperatures were scorching and no aid stations for miles which seemed like days. I acted as proactively as possible and headed back out on the course. I had decided that my 30-second per aid station rule for the first half of the course was going to be trashed. I had cut my pace significantly based on some concerning biological cues and was merely focused on finishing under the 17 hour time allotment to secure my Western States qualifier.
It didn't seem to matter how slow I went, the sun was unyielding. My head was pounding, my lips and arms went randomly numb, and I was getting dizzy…and then I ran out of water. This is where my new appreciation for the grand Arizona cactus was born. Several of these saviors were actually large enough where I could get a couple feet of shade. The difference in temperature seemed to vary by 20 degrees. My goal in this section shifted to running for shade where I could stop and control my panting. I noticed that my dizziness subsided if I found a specific rock to focus on and kept my head neutral.
A little more than half way through this section and still a few miles from water, I started losing a little more control and questioned my next moves. After a few minutes of pondering (sadly I could make no tears) another runner approached. Without a second wasted he tried to give me water but I was so messed up that I was getting sick from putting my head up to drink from his pack and couldn't accept. Seeing this mess, he bypassed water and made me take in some electrolytes. I welcomed it after thanking him profusely and ensuring he had enough (two dead runners is worse than one dead runner).  He rationed out fluids from his pack even when I argued that I didn't want to tap into what he had. This is what runners do. We help each other. He noted he was a local and that these are some of the worst conditions and extremely dangerous. Hearing this from a conditioned, local runner was not only a reality check but also a little relieving on the ego. I asked him his name and we parted ways. D, you seriously saved me here-much respect!
Finally: WATER! I drank slowly and efficiently since my stomach couldn't handle much at all at this point. The cramping I had encountered earlier seemed to leave a lasting scar on my kidneys and sides and would become irritated at the slightest notion of early dehydration. This was my new indicator of when it was time to drink since I clearly couldn't depend on a full bladder.
As soon as the sun hit its crest and started its descent, I got my second wind but this took effort that demanded my will outweigh my desire. I had to take in calories or I was going to bonk and DNF. NOTHING sounded good for fuel and even water and carbo-pro made me nauseous at the thought of it. I went for bland, high sodium and naturally gravitated to potatoes and watermelon dipped in heavy salt. This encouraged a bit of tolerance for food and I was able to eat a handful of M&Ms and some noodles and broth (cooled by ice cubes). My Honey Stinger options that I had in drop bags worked well as long as they weren't melted as well. A little nutrition and great motivation by aid station personnel flipped the switch and I was feeling better than I did pre-race. My tibia and quad issues were dulled by the overall body and leg aching from the climbs and run descents that made up the day. Of course they still hurt, everything hurt. Welcome to ultrarunning.
Another runner wasn't doing so hot and I spent some time convincing him not to call it quits. His whole body was cramping, his stomach wouldn't allow any nutrition, and mentally he was checked out. I encouraged, begged, and bartered. I've been there, we've all been there. I thought about what D did for me on the course earlier that day and I felt compelled to pay it forward. I encouraged him the best I could and even offered him a $1 to continue.. we only had 15 miles left! A quick parting comment referencing the path to heaven requires crossing the gates of hell and I respectfully took off.
Back on the course and I revisited my race strategy, goal, and did my staple head to toe assessment using the SWOT technique. I had a good idea of potential threats physically, mentally, and emotionally and I came up with viable strategies to counteract. Ultrarunning can never be mastered..that is something I love about it. It demands that you are a good problem solver, strong-willed, and respectful to the course, mileage, and your own limitations. Thankfully, I author my limitations and have the creative mind of Edgar Allen Poe.
Running out of an aid station I clicked on my IPod and hit the right song and the right moment. Old school "Fuel" from Metallica surged through my body at the cellular level and I was flying down the course like a bat out of hell. I passed a pack of runners that passed me an hour ago and they cheered my on "Hell yes! Nice rally from the Iowa girl!!" My response was throwing up metal horns as I hurdled a boulder.  They loved it and we all laughed as I almost face planted into a cactus in true Wile E. Coyote fashion.
The final aid station was bitter sweet. I knew the last 4 miles were fairly manageable and that the worst (or best) was behind me. I always get choked up when the race is nearing its end and the incredible peers who shared that last stop encouraged more. I showed my gratitude and respect, sent out some love and a few hugs, and scampered off into the darkness welcomed by a warm blanket of night and guided by my Petzl headlamp. I was alone and comfortable in the pitch black desert night and I turned off my music to reflect and take it in. I noticed a few bouncing headlamps down course and I challenged myself to catch up…maybe pass. Challenge accepted and I was pleased that my broken body had one rally left. I encouraged the runners as I passed and accepted the same. Nothing but respect and motivation is exchanged between ultrarunners at that point in the game.
Two miles out I caught up to a runner who was struggling a bit. Karma put me in the right place for him and I set a pace that pushed him passed his restrictive demons and helped him find his last rally. It felt amazing; I would have carried him if I had to at that moment.
A mile out and the quiet night was immediately filled with loud shrieks that were getting closer within seconds. Pace increased, somewhat driven by adrenaline by the thought of the finish line but mostly driven by the howls. Coyotes..We figured that out within a minute or two but, damn, they must have been running with us. Were we part of their pack and we didn’t even know it? It was impossible to say. The desert darkness was pitch black and we were too afraid to take our eyes off the foreign trail and risk injury. Wile E. has a newfound respect from this Iowa chica. Those howls were confident as hell.
Music, lights, crowds, and amazing cheers welcomed me as I crossed the finish line in a little over 13 1/2 hours. Also welcoming me was D. A fist bump and restricted emotion was all that was necessary; he understood. I'm also a dollar poorer as the hurting dude at the aid station found his strength and overcame his demons.
Cut off time was 17 hours to secure my qualifier for Western States so I had a comfortable cushion. I did expect better than that for myself and the time mocked me a bit. However, it took about a minute for me to shake that negativity and remind myself about the journey and not the destination. My efforts resulted in multiple lessons to move me through my racing, a few to advance me personally, and a respectable top ten overall female finish.

Another experience in the books, more lessons learned, more friendships created, and more aspirations born. Such is life..such is ultra.
Cheers.