is how a friend of mine terms that February/March near-panic. You know, the ‘none of my pants fit’ panic. The ‘I’m so sick of snow and cold and ice but we still have a ways to go’ panic. I’m using OEH to remind myself not to have chocolate mousse for dinner too often, and as motivation to get outside when the afternoon highs are still not above freezing. But oh, it is hard. I love the sound of robin song when I’m trekking around Lake Harriet, but I’m usually too distracted by the wind slapping my knees and chin to pay much attention.
Shin splints update: the slight thaw we have had (yay, pavement!), along with Ace bandages and stepping back to mostly walking, has made things tons better. Of course, it’s disheartening not to be running a lot, but I decided to be lazy over the semester break and now I have to pay the price. Slow, gradual progress isn’t fun for us impatient folk, but it’s either that or give up. No brainer.
That’s today’s run, number 7 of 30! (I skipped yesterday, more on that in a minute.)
The big bell curve there is when I ran into Sally and Dawg. Yay!
Anyway, I’m showing you my uber-slow pace not to shame myself (I can do that on my own), but to give a question some context. See, in the last couple of months, I ran….maybe four times. And I gained upwards of ten pounds. So I’m going slower than ever, plus…
SHIN SPLINTS.
They’re bad, people. The pain isn’t constant, only at the end of my runs, but still, holy cartwheels. Definitely didn’t think this would be a problem when I decided on that 30-in-30 plan.
I’m now icing and stretching, doing heel and toe walks, etc etc. But in the interest of 1. running and 2. not getting a stress fracture, here’s my question: What would you do if you had wicked shin splints?
I’m continuing to research online and think that, in addition to the ice packs, I’ll take this next week off, and then cut back to running every other day. Thumbs up? Thumbs down?
Thanks, y’all.
Starting tomorrow, I’m going for super-short runs (like, 15 minutes) every day for a month. Every day! Barring ice storms, extreme sinusitis, and broken limbs.
I’ve got my non-schedule schedule printed out and my woolies hanging on the door.
Physically it’s easy, but in that mental/habit-forming way I really need, it’s a challenge. Hooray! I think.
(Anyone else a LOST fan? I am so excited for tonight, holy crap.)
Hi ladies and lumps, thank you for your responses. I realized that maybe I feel so pre-defeated because every time I start to get fit, I get injured. I started running in high school because of a soccer injury! (Both wrists. Day after my 16th birthday. Yeah, I know.)
The most successful running plan I ever had was last spring. I printed out a list of all my workouts for the week, but not what days to do them, so I had to balance my needs for flexibility and procrastination to get them done. A bit like what Aunti and Toots said about glazing over the details/individual workouts: the plan was set, and all I had to do was make a line through the workouts. Loved it till ITBS felled me in June.
Soooo once the weather warms up and my sinus infection cures itself (in the meantime: 30 Day Shred, anyone?), I’m going to try that checklist-style workout plan again. And of course…weekly updates so y’all can keep my accountable, slash join me on a slow run sometime?
I’m loving this video, btw. Happy weekend!
Just do it
Heyo everybody,
I need some advice. This is something I’ve been struggling with for a veryvery long time. And as you are more experienced with running than I, maybe you have some advice. Or can at least commiserate.
You see, I am one of those all-or-nothing people. To whom the slightest deviation from a plan is spelled F-A-I-L-U-R-E. Who is paralyzed into zero action when large, perfect action is not possible, due to weather or finals or a cold virus or you know. Life.
My struggle with AON has led me through much soul searching, web surfing, and the indices of undergraduate psychology textbooks. I’ve created backup plans, contingency plans; I own stock in White-Out. But none of that has allowed me:
- to go on a shorter run, or walk, or bike ride when I planned that route around Lake Harriet
- to forgive myself for not going on a shorter run, let alone for not going around Lake Harriet
So over time I end up less fit and more full of Cheetos Puffs, albeit more educated about sports medicine and sports psychology than many people who get paid for it.
Have any of you struggled with this? How do you deal? Short of paying someone to boss me around until I get permanently hooked on running despite mild discomfort and laziness (which I would totally do except: unemployed grad student here), what are the best strategies for kicking one’s own ass?
Thanks!!
P.S. Awesome link of the day: Emily Richmond is sailing around the world, solo. I’m obessed with Into the Wild and with internet communication, so she is totally my hero. See also: large perfect action, ability to deal with setbacks.
Heyo, everyone, I’m Claudia. I met Sally during last fall’s women’s running group and, despite being terrible at running, I’m addicted to thinking and talking about it — and occasionally doing it — so here I am, the newest member of the T&S family!
And as such I am injured. From sledding. Yeah.
Anyway, I’ll be blogging here about my 8 millionth attempt to make running a habit (helloooo, ITBS). I’ll also share my thoughts on some of the running/fitness/nutrition wisdom I read: ChiRunning, Born to Run, and randomness from the New York Times.
Hooray, I’m excited! See you all soon.
