Thursday, February 10, 2011

The boy who cried "OW!"


I complained all last week about being injured, and many of you offered your sympathies and condolences. Thank you.

But then I went ahead and completed the Uwharrie 40 miler.
People have pointed out that this is a recurring pattern on this blog;
I complain about being injured, but then run a race and perform well.

This appears to be pre-race nerves or "taper madness" or sandbagging.
So from now on, I will try to avoid complaining about my aches and pains unless I have photographic proof, like a bone sticking out.

But let me just rant about them one last time, and then I will shut up and stick to race reports.

Listen to Your Body
As a runner, you often hear the advice "Listen to your body".

For most of my running life, I did not heed this advice. Instead I would listen to Runners World, doctors, shoe salesmen, and physical therapists.

My knees would swell up with the message "Hey moron, quit over-striding!".
But I would silence them with ice bags, and start stretching my hamstrings.. 
In turn, my hamstrings would become inflamed and painfully shout:
 "Ahhgg! Quit over-stretching!"
But I would drown the cries out with Ibuprofen.

It took years, but eventually its message got through, and what my body was saying made perfect sense.
I ditched the ice, Advil, stretching, orthotics, and extra-cushy shoes. I started taking small steps.

I started listening it, and it rewarded me with a couple years of  healthy and happy running. It would tell me when I was overdoing it and I would rest.

Your Body may be Full of Shit
But one day last summer something strange happened. I developed an acute pain in my left quad.
It felt exactly like the pain you get at mile 26 of a marathon, except this was mile 3 of an easy run.
I turned around and gimped home, baffled. Two days latter the pain was completely gone, so I tried to run again I made it 16 miles without a hint of pain. Strange.

Then it happened again. In my foot, my back, my Achilles.  My body started cursing and screaming spontaneously and nonsensically. They felt like real injuries, but I love running so much that I ran anyway.
And miraculously the pain would disappear as mysteriously as it had come.

It seems that my body has developed Turrets Syndrome.

Maybe it is the excessive abuse I have inflicted on it that has caused it to go a little nuts. 
In any case, I will stop relaying these babbling aches and pains. Unless of course we get some good pictures of that bone sticking out.

10 comments:

  1. Don't do that! Remember the name of your blog. It is supposed to be "a comprehensive guide to illness and injury through running." How can the rest of us develop these wierd aches and pains without your guidance and experience! Think of others and not just yourself. Complain . . . whine . . . get mad . . . get frustrated . . . it's all good!!

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  2. That's a very good point Frank. It is the "Running Down" blog. If it makes for good entertainment, I will continue to hurt myself and complain about it.

    Thanks Frank!

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  3. That's the spirit! Stay true to yourself!

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  4. Sometimes even when the picture shows the bone sticking out or broken in half, running is possible. If the race is important enough, your mind can override your body every time. Or maybe that trait just runs in the family.

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  5. I agree with Triple F. It's encouraging to know that injuries can heal quickly. Or, it's an interesting story about a guy who is always faking injuries to throw off the competition. Either way, Good stuff.

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  6. Runs in the family Monique. Runs in the family!
    And Frank and Josh, so well said.

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  7. Maybe this is your calling for a sex change. The threshold women have for pain is unmatched by men. This would give you a life time of pain free gripping. Then again...
    Harold 'Galoot' Hill

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  8. How old are you? The same thing started happening to me around 40. Weird, phantom pains and pseudo-injuries that just disappeared after a short while. It's still happening as I approach my mid-forties. I just consider it part of getting older. Or maybe my body is exacting revenge for all the abuse I put it through in my 20s and 30s.

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  9. Der Scott,
    I am 40. I have not thought of it until now, but it started the week after I turned 40!
    Must be part of getting old. I thought it would be a gradual process and not happen so suddenly. I guess that is the reason the "Masters" category starts at 40.
    Good to know that you are still running and haven't fallen into pieces.

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  10. Now that we are talking about this, 40 is almost the exact same time my close up vision started to worsen. This getting old thing sucks! I know, maybe I'll start running to stave off the effects of old age.. ;-)

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