Week One, Day Two: Back Attack

Here is a transcribed version of an audio clip I recorded before going to the Y (I wanted to insert the audio, but it is saved as a quicktime file in evernote and you have to have the pro version to actually do anything with it):

"I'm kind of worried about day 2.  I did cardio dance yesterday and my back hurts, I'm worried about my toes going numb, I'm worried about my foot hurting, I think I should get some sort of inserts for these shoes, but I think it's going to go well.  I'm going to try it on the indoor track at the YMCA."

My unofficial running coach, Craig, has warned me on no less than 10 occasions to take it easy, to follow the program, to not do too much, to watch my back, and all sorts of other incredibly important things.  Did I heed his incredibly sage advice?  Did I take it easy with some "casual walking" on my rest day between runs?  Of course not.  Yesterday evening I did a very dumb thing.  Instead of doing my usual 30-45 min walk on the treadmill, I decided to hop in on a "cardio dance" class that looked fun.  "Hmm," I thought, "I take hip-hop dance and African dance - should be a breeze."

I'd like to state for the record that this instructor uses the term "dance" lightly and "cardio" very heavily.  What she left out of the class description was "Have some muscles in your body that you haven't worked in, say, a decade?  How's your neck feeling?  Want to work that, too? What about your elbow muscles?  There's a move for that."  Overall, it was a fun class, and my friend Chrissy was entertaining enough to make it worth it, but that was before I decided to take the same body that I put through cardio dance on Week 1, Day 2's run.

When I got to the Y, I decided to head straight up to the track that goes around the very same gym I'd "danced" in the previous evening.  I'd been spying the walkers and runners up there while my trying to do Lady GaGa aerobics (sans costumes and fire, sadly), and they all seemed quite content with their short laps around and around and around.  When I got up there, there were lots of bossy instructions on a sign about which lane I was allowed to use to walk, run or pass.  Pass?  Really?  Are they hosting track meets up here?  This is a track that takes 16 laps to make one mile, and we have specific lanes.  Right.  The bossy sign also told me I'd better do my stretching elsewhere because space on the track is limited!  It also told me not to spit, which I'd never considered as a part of a running regimen until they suggested I not do it.  I'm surprised it didn't tell me that my top didn't match my pants, but it looks like they ran out of room (all those exclamation marks take up a lot of space).

I wish I could post audio that I recorded on the drive home from the Y, because I'm not sure my writing will do it justice.  Let's just say that Week 1, Day 2 is a day that will live in infamy.  Let's hope, anyway, because if other runs are like this one, I am in for a looooooooooong 9 weeks.

First of all, the track was not flat.  Can someone who is an avid indoor runner please tell me if this is normal?  The track was sloped down toward the middle with some pretty dramatic slopes randomly inserted for good measure.  It was like trying to run in a mixing bowl.  At first this was just a slight annoyance, as I had to be in the walking lane for my warm-up, and the slope of the outside wasn't too impactful.  On my first graduation to the running lane - the inside lane - I was taken aback.  My left leg was running at about 4-6" lower than my right leg.  If you've been following along, you know that alignment is already an issue for me, and running at this angle was a particular challenge.  The first 2-3 intervals were uncomfortable but manageable, but all of the sudden...

BACK ATTACK!  I cannot describe to you what this pain feels like - you must experience it for yourself (though I certainly don't recommend it).  It's a combination of muscle spasm, rapid firing nerve electricity, and the kind of pain that only a woman knows.  When I was running it was so incredibly intense, and when I was walking, I was limping around like I had a wooden leg.  After the 2nd back attack running interval, the pain had stretched all the way up my back to below my shoulder and all the way around the front and down my thigh.  I haven't felt pain like this since around the time of the injury, and can I just tell you what kind emotion this aroused?

To quote myself (in the audio note I recorded on the way home), "I cannot believe I made it.  I can't believe I finished."  Honestly, I don't know if I did the right thing.  I powered through the pain.  It was very difficult for me to decide in the moment if I was doing the right thing.  Should I keep running?  Every time I'd make it through a one minute running interval, I'd feel as though I'd just birthed a back baby, and the feeling of accomplishment was so great that I'd think, "Ok, now all I have to do is walk for a minute and a half...no biggie."  Well, it turns out walking was more painful than running, and this cycle continued for the rest of my time on Track Slope.

I finished, amazed at myself for pushing through it, grabbed my stuff, and limped to the stairs.  When I got in the stairwell, though, I lost it.  I just burst into tears and cried like a baby for a few minutes in the stairwell.  I was in pain, I was frustrated, and this feeling was all too familiar.  I sobbed. I was a blubbering mess, and then I just stopped.  There was no room for this.  If I was going to cry, it needed to be about something greater than the same old back pain or the same old frustration.  I wiped my face off, headed down the rest of the stairs, and then something miraculous happened...

I was fine.  I walked through the gym to the locker room, and I was fine.  The pain was completely gone.  It left as soon as it came.  I went to the ladies locker room to stretch, unable to process how I was feeling.  Not two minutes ago, I was in dire straits, willing myself around the slopes of the track, sobbing in a stairwell, and trying to figure out how I was going to bow out of this blog gracefully.  Now I am sitting on a mat, stretching like it was nothing.  It seems the terrible pain was entirely circumstantial.

Now it's the next day, and I have a few thoughts on the matter:

1. I am glad that I finished the run, because had I quit, I might never have made it to day 3.
2. It was incredibly irresponsible to finish the run, because I had no idea that my pain was going to subside.
3. If I am going to take this seriously, I cannot do stupid things like "cardio dance."  Casual walking or weights are the only two things I should be doing on off days.
4. I need to seek some professional advice about my back and my feet
5. Dang, girl!  You did it!!!

The amazing thing was, despite all of the drama in my body, the run was actually great, cardio-wise.  I think if I was battling my back AND my heart, this would be just too much.  I know next week will be tough, with the longer runs, but I know I can do it.  I need to find a space for this that is not slopey and not freezing.  Running "on the ground" was much better than on the treadmill, so I'm on the hunt for a good spot!  Let's go!

Week One, Day One

This day came a lot sooner than I thought it would, and if it were not for the overwhelming emptiness that arose after shipping my computer off to be fixed for 2-4 weeks, I probably would've waited quite some time for Week One, Day One.  So thanks, Best Buy and overheating motherboards - you've brought about more hope and change than any empty campaign promises ever could.

I know that starting a simple interval running program shouldn't be a big deal, but this really was a momentous occasion.  As you know, I was decked out in new shoes so stable not even this guy would stumble and fall in them.  I was wearing my brand new fancy sports bra, and just for good measure, I put another one on top of that one (this turned out to be an amazing idea and I will be doing this every time I work out from now on).  I had on synthetic everything except my t-shirt, which was a BIG mistake.  No matter how soft the t-shirts from American Apparel (and in this case, from my brother's church, which was free, just for showing up!) are, ditch the cotton.

I spent so much time getting ready for this momentous occasion that it was actually too late to run outside.  I haven't gotten any reflective gear for night running or anything to cover my head/ears, so there was no way I was going to pound the pavement as an invisible, freezing car magnet.  This blog would probably end up being really short: Week 1, Day 1: hit by a car. I decided, instead, to head to my beloved Dowd YMCA and do day 1 on the treadmill.

If you have ever been to the Dowd at 5:30 p.m. on a weekday, you are probably laughing at me right now.  I've been going to the Y for 2 months now, and I love it, but it's taken me a while to adjust to how intense it can be.  Everyone is so hard core, so beautiful, so....Bank of America.  At 6am, at least no one looks nice - they've all rolled out of bed to hit the treadmill or go for a swim. I'll save my locker room stories for another blog, but let's just say that at the crack of dawn, nobody cares about anything except getting their cardio in for the day.  AFTER work, however, there is an entirely different crowd.  It's see-and-be-seen at the Dowd, which is exactly why I never work out at this time.  The last place I want to be seen is at the gym, when I am sweaty and in skin-tight clothes and generally looking funky (and not in a cool, hip-hop kind of way).  The few times I've been there in the evening, I feel as though the Y is Paris and I've just wandered in from the provinces.

Knowing that I'd NEVER get a treadmill in the main cardio theater, I headed upstairs to the "quiet" area.  I think they call it this because there are no TVs or radios or whatnot, but it is certainly not quiet.  There are still 50+ people pounding away on cardio machines, rowing on a carpet sea, and the clank-clank of weights going on and off the racks.  Amazingly, there was one treadmill available, so I hopped right on.  I chuckled to myself because dead in front of my face, rather than the view of the Charlotte skyline like every single other person in this area had, was a giant poster that said "POSITIVE ATTITUDE" and some cheesy saying to go along with it.  I could see my own face in the reflection, and I decided that this was a good thing.

With Roy in tow (Roy's my Droid), I turned on my music from DJ Beatsmith that is specially designed for the Couch 2 5k intervals and got started.  A 5 minute warm-up, and then I was running.

I was running.

I have never in my life welled up with tears while exercising, but this was a very emotional moment.  It took me a second to realize what was happening - I was running, and it wasn't a big deal.  I was wearing the right shoes, I'd been working out long enough before this where my heart wasn't about to explode (and I quit smoking on Sept 21, thank goodness), and it was working.  I was running.  I did all of my intervals - 60 seconds running, 90 seconds walking for 25 minutes, and then a 5 minute cool-down.  It was very hard.

My body is so out of line that by the end, my 2nd-from-the-pinky toe felt broken, half of the toes on my right foot were numb.  My heartrate was VERY high for the last few intervals, and I was a hot mess, literally.  I was dripping sweat, breathing like I was in labor, and just barely hanging on. BUT I DID IT.  and I will do it again tomorrow, and 2 days after that.  And then it's on to week 2.

I am excited for this challenge.  I know it will be a challenge, and I know it will be tempting to jump ahead or take a day off or do something that isn't according to plan.  I am COMMITTED to doing it right, though, and I thank all of you who are already being so supportive!  Let's go!

Shop 'Till You Drop (a load of cash)

I was born without the shopping gene.  Don’t get me wrong - I love to buy stuff.  I especially love to buy stuff in two particular categories - cooking and working out.  I realize these are probably two hobbies that cancel each other out, but both come with such great accouterments that you can never really have enough stuff or the latest stuff or the coolest stuff or whatever.  I recently did an analysis of my spending and found that I spend just as much every month on crap from TJ Maxx/Marshalls/Ross as I do on groceries.  The only things I buy from TJ Maxx/Marshalls/Ross are cooking toys and workout stuff.  This is clearly a problem.


When I say that I don’t have the shopping gene, I mean that I don’t enjoy the act of trying things on, choosing just the right color of an item, or even looking in the mirror.  Mind you, the desire to avoid the mirror is probably more tied to my first hobby than anything else, but that’s a whole different story altogether.  I actually really hate this part of shopping.  There is a reason that I only buy clothes from 3 stores - I know exactly what will fit and what styles I can wear.  Even when I was a size 6, I was exactly like this.  Here is me shopping: Is it on ridiculous clearance?  Check.  Is it a solid color?  Check.  Could I wear it to work and to a social event?  Check.  Is it a size that wouldn’t cause embarrassment if someone saw the tag?  Check.  Into shopping cart.


Little did I know that when I decided to run a 5k, there would be a LOT of shopping involved.  Shopping in stores, shopping online, talking to sales people, asking questions, trying on millions of things, having multiple people look at me at the same time.  They need to post on the Couch 2 5K website something about the commitment required to not only run 3 days a week, but to painstakingly analyze the difference between two pairs of incredibly expensive socks.

For those of you who don’t know, I now have a Droid, which I love very much and want to be happy.  I know that if I had not gotten involved with this fantastic piece of equipment, I would’ve crumbled in my first hour of running-shopping.  You see, if I can turn something into a project, with research and steps and note-taking and organization, then I will not only dive into something, but I will actually enjoy it.  I was sitting on my parents’ couch on the day after Christmas, cooing at my Droid and whispering sweet nothings into its voice search box, when I ran across Evernote.  I’ve seen Evernote several times, but it always felt like I’d be cheating on my old stalwart OneNote.  Now that I’m running Android, however, using a truly mobile organization system makes sense, and Evernote is just right.  You can turn just about anything into a “note,” or a little bit of information that Evernote organizes for you based on chronology, tags, or however you decide you want it to organize things.  So far it’s been an incredibly useful tool and I can’t wait to start using it when I’m actually really busy with work - right now everything in life is so laid back and holiday and sleeping in.


In Evernote, I clipped the addresses to running stores in Columbia and went on my way.  The first store I went to, Strictly Running in 5 Points, was tiny and cute and staffed by children.  I’m not sure how these 12-year-olds were allowed to work, but they were doing such a nice job of chilling out and playing on the computer that I couldn’t help but humor them.   One of the boys (an English major at USC…should I have warned him about his job prospects??) claimed to be an expert at cushion-stability-mobility issues with running shoes, so he promptly had a pair picked out for me.  They felt strange and different, which I took to be a good thing, and I almost bought them.  I then got the feeling, though, that if I was going to take running seriously, then I needed to take the shopping seriously, too (ugh), and look at more than one place.  I chatted with the children for a few more minutes, took a snapshot note with my Droid and went on my way.


The next shop, Fleet Feet in Harbison, was an entirely different experience.  At Fleet Feet, the first step was to put me on a treadmill with a video camera attached to do a gait analysis.  I am no stranger to gait analysis; when you break your back and it heals incorrectly, there are all kinds of problems with the way that you walk.  Crooked hips leads to all sorts of joint issues and foot pain and strange numbness and muscle ache and everything else you can imagine.  This was the first time it was strictly video, though, and no computer probes or other uncomfortable devices or insurance refusing to pay.


Seeing my little ankles up there on the screen was so sad.  I used to be this powerful person, strong and fit and seemingly invincible, and here I was looking at the two wobbliest ankles anyone’s ever seen.  The helper lady was calling people over to watch me walk and marvel at how I wasn’t falling over right then and there.  They were oohing and ahhing and saying things like, “weebles wobble, weebles wobble.”  It’s a good thing I’m so darn committed to this thing, or else it would’ve all ended right there.  She showed me how much I pronate and how much everything is completely out of line.  She even showed me a poster with an example of horrible alignment and pronation and how mine was worse.  Luckily, once the freak show was over, my show assistant was very encouraged that we’d find a shoe to help stabilize my poor little ankles.


8 or 9 shoes later, which meant 8 or 9 jogs up and down the sidewalk in front of a bar and a mexican restaurant on a Saturday evening, we found some shoes that actually did make me feel stable when I was jogging, instead of the frightening, “this could end at any time” feeling I usually get when I run for a few seconds.


It turns out, though, that my ankles aren’t the only unstable things I’m working with.  Sorry, guys, it’s about to get awkward.  When the lady spied me looking at the sports bras, she asked me what kind I wear.  I said, “um, the regular kind?”  and she shot a quick glance at my rack and cleared her throat.  You see, my ta-tas tripled in size a few years ago, and I’m often quite unaware of how ginormous they are.  Sometimes I’ll see one of my bras lying around and laugh - that’s how humorously large they’ve become.  I was a nice, petite 34B from 13 until 25, and then BAM!!!  BOOB EXPLOSION!!! The lady demonstrated with a weight that represented a typical hooter of my size in a “regular” sportsbra.  I was AGAPE.  It was like the jug-weight was bungee jumping in this thing.  ”Oh.  Right.  I guess that might be uncomfortable if I’m running.”  She then showed me the kind that I should be wearing, and it was like the Ft. Knox of titties in there.  Locked down, solid, and apparently full of gold according to the price.


I STILL didn’t buy anything at store #2, convinced that I would be able to find a better deal on all of this stuff online or at a major retailer.   I really do like to support local stores, but all of this gear was WAY over my budget, which of course up to this point has been $0.  I spent that night scouring the internet, webclipping to Evernote, and wishing I had a social life because this was kind of a lame way to spend a Saturday night.  In the end, though, I found that generally speaking, running gear does not go on sale, and if it does, it only comes in a size so absurdly opposite of mine that I’d have to buy two and glue them together.


I went back to Charlotte on Sunday and formulated a final shopping plan:


1. Buy stuff


The shopping experience in Charlotte was much less painful - another quick treadmill video session (clearly unnecessary but kind of fun), a painful swipe of the card to buy shoes, and off to a final destination for the rest of the gear.  Socks - very complicated things, these little pieces of fabric, a sportsbra that looks EXACTLY like something I would’ve made fun of my mom for owning, body glide (embarrassing in its own right), and elastic shoestrings (no more tying, EVER!  YES!!!).  If you’re a runner, Run For Your Life has a pretty decent sale going on now - lots of socks are buy one get one free.


So now I’m all kitted out, ready to run.  Let’s go!

The Starting Line

If you have known me for more than a day, you have heard me say at least once, “I can’t run because of my back.”  I have said this so many times that it just rolls off of the tongue, like, “Hi, I’m Sarah” or “The Wire is the best television series ever created.”  I have spent the better part of 8 years convincing others and myself that if I run, my back will promptly fold in half one way, then back the other way, creating a nice perforation that will simply break in half if you blow on it.

This is, of course, partially based in fact, as I fractured my spine in the Spring of 2002.  It was a horrific experience that I wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even my Calculus professor freshman year who chuckled when he told me I failed my final exam.  It was a parse fracture on L5/S1, and it took many more doctors than the AMA would like to admit to discover the fracture.  I was in a lot of pain, physically and emotionally, and it was almost an entire year before the CT showed the ugly white line on my vertebrae, fused permanently incorrectly.  It was this injury and the ensuing struggle that followed that first introduced me to what would be my more permanent challenge: insomnia, anxiety, and ultimately, depression.

This is not a blog about my mental and emotional health, but I do need to post a disclaimer that running - me, Sarah Brown, running - is the most overt manifestation of conquering depression that I can even fathom.  In the past 2 months I have experienced a reawakening that is nothing short of miraculous, and the only thing I can think of to do is to just run around celebrating.

So that brings us to the present.  I have worked out on and off for the entirety of this struggle, but I knew something was different when I decided I wanted to RUN.  Instead of saying, “I can’t run because of my back,” I said, “I am going to run a 5k.”  I experience pain every time I work out, so why not do what I want to do?  Why die of boredom walking on a treadmill when I could be outside, actually going somewhere?  I love my Hip-Hop and African dance classes, but how do you set a real goal with dance?  I mean, I guess I could serve some people, but everyone knows that never ends well.

Now is where I must credit two of my friends, Allie and Craig.  Allie because she is the most encouraging friend I’ve ever had.  For a very long time, she has encouraged me to just get moving!  Just get out there!  I had been exercising, sure, but she kept encouraging me to set a goal.  As for Craig, one conversation turned me from someone who looked longingly at people running by to a girl at the running store trying on shoes and inquiring re: 5ks in February.  These are two people with “you can do it if you work hard and don’t give up” attitudes, and I am happy to poach their motivation for my own use!  Allie’s my motivational speaker and Craig’s my technical coach (though I’m not sure if either of them realize they’ve signed up for this).

This is it. I am going to run 2 5ks - one in February and one in March.  Valentine’s Day because I love my life and St. Patrick’s Day because I am so incredibly lucky (read: blessed) in so many ways. I am changing my line from “I can’t run because of my back” to “I am a runner.”   Let’s go.