gooooodbyeeeee treadmill.

in the PT waiting room, ready to roll.

Well. I ran. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't fun. It hurt.

After excitedly lacing up my trusty Mizunos and stepping onto the treadmill my hopes and dreams of being completely recovered were shattered by .25 miles when I realized I could feel the bone in my leg every step I took (not that I was going to say that out loud...). My physical therapist was watching my feet, analyzing my gait and looking at me grind my teeth together with every step - she thought it best I stop and pulled me off the 'mill at .41 miles.

Not only was I mad that I'm not healed, but who stops a run at .41?? That's not even CLOSE to being a reasonable, even number. I'm sure the .09 needed to get to  an even half mile wouldn't have killed me. No one wants to put that weird number on their excel spreadsheet of workout activity.

zombie tees on the dog's zip line.
totally normal.

Just because I had a huge runfail on Friday didn't mean I wasn't going to dress up like a zombie and chase 5k runners on Sunday. I was out of the house by 6:30a on a Sunday and dressed in running tights and a homemade zombie tee - the last time I was pulling those hours with that outfit was pre-fracture. I met my sister at the make-up tent where we were transformed from sleepy 20-somethings into sleepy zombies.

a close up.

The event was sort of a disaster from an organization standpoint, but we had fun nonetheless. When runners went to the start line, they were wearing flag football belts with three flags. Zombies were stationed all over the course on a mission to steal the flags of the runners, rendering them unhealthy and eventually turning them into zombies when they lost all three of their flags.

I got a little taste of the injury free life as I was running through a field chasing runners and stealing their flags. I think it was the adrenaline that blocked the pain signals to my brain. Running INTO a mass of runners starting their race isn't something I ever thought I'd try. While getting trampled was a very real possibility slight risk, it was fun...and we got to wear zombie make up and make shirts. Win.

marathon weekend

Cue sad face. I wish I was sweating it out for 26.2 then propping my feet up on the ottoman dawning my compression socks, but alas. I was volunteering and wearing my ankle brace.

not quite compression socks [source]

Although I planned to be attending the event as a struggling runner, not a volunteer, it was still a fabulous and fun.

My co-volunteer and I made top hats and signs. The top hats were a big hit. We received numerous compliments from runners and there were a lot of smiling faces - you can't be anything but gleeful when you see someone wearing a top hat adorned with glitter paint.

I booked our hotel for my next attempt. Now I'm crossing my fingers and anxiously awaiting medical clearance.

six days til m-day.

I thought my week out post would be a gleeful overview of all the pasta I planned to enjoy within the next six days. However, consuming massive amounts of pasta and not running doesn't quite have the effect I intended. So I'll only be eating pasta once this week, I won't be tapering, but I am lucky enough to experience the "no running" induced mania many of my running friends are sure to find this week.

Wheeliechair ride around Target, thanks Q!

I'm missing running so much I re-signed up for the marathon. Not to run, clearly, but as a volunteer and to cheer like a banshie for all those runners who cross my path (especially my fantastic cousin who is looking to BQ). I also recruited one of my favorite wheeliechair pushers to volunteer with me! In turn, she recruited me to participate in my first race since my bones began to crumble beneath me the incident. It's a trail 5k run in late October - seems ambitious, yes, only we're not running the 5k. We will be dressed up as zombies trying to capture flags from runners as the pass. I signed up to be a hunter - running for short distances at a time. Best part: when you arrive you get a zombie makeover. Win. This might even be more fun than running in the race.  


This week is the week I can hit the gym again. I'll be sporting my ankle brace with my running shorts and I'm only allowed to use the bikes or elliptical, but it's something.

...and so it began

source

As a child I have vivid memories of the dreaded physical fitness test in gym class (yes, they still have this). Each year was the same, the pushups and sit ups went fine, I excelled at the v-sit, the shuttle run was my favorite and I could even dangle on the pull up bar for a while. As the class gleefully made it through one circuit after another, our excitement was short lived as we all knew what was coming: the timed mile. As soon as the words escaped the gym teacher’s mouth I was plotting, scamming and scheming in my mind trying to figure out any way to be absent next class. I would have rather been anywhere than that track engaging in my “pre race” ritual of lacing up my sneaker and slouching my neon socks perfectly over my stirrup pants. 

Clearly I survived the torment of the gym as a child and today, I am training for my first marathon. I got over the dreaded timed mile somewhere in college when I would catch myself setting out for a jog around finals week or before a beach vacation. I would even get a few trail runs in during August where you could find relief from the heat under the dense pine trees of the park.

2010 Team Teagan volunteers

When my friend and co-worker began training for a half marathon with Team in Training, I noticed. I guess it never occurred to me that you could be running for a purpose or for fun. Listening to her talk about group runs, getting in hill and speed work and finding a new hobby was inspiring. Because she's awesome and is an overachiever, she took up the extremely ambitious task of appointing herself race director in an effort to help a local family with an ailing child. Team Teagan’s Annual 5K Benefit Run was born. 

On June 30^th, 2007 I completed my first 5K in support of Teagan, her family and the noble efforts of my fabulous friend. From that point on, I was hooked. Watching more experienced runners toe the line in their race day duds and snazzy sneakers would have been reason enough for me to jump on the bandwagon, but the support of the community and fabulous volunteers rallying around one family was amazing– I figured those crazy running people must have been a bunch of good eggs. I've continued to run in and volunteer at the race each year and they've proven me right.