Point Mountain
A few pictures from a brief hike at Point Mountain with my son. This is two months after surgery on my ankle. Just going a few hundred yards on the trail hurt pretty good. Running on trails feels so far away.
Huddle
Topic: 7-Day Challenge (Day 2)
Wildcat Ridge Romp – August 13, 2016 (Photos)
On August 13, 2016, I participated in a trail race in Rockaway, NJ: The Wildcat Ridge Romp. It didn’t go so well for me. But I took some nice pictures, as you will see below.
As I wrote about in this post, I sprained my ankle on June 26. I was diligent with going to physical therapy three days per week right from the start. I was determined to get this thing fixed in time for Wildcat. On day #38, I gave running a try for the first time since my injury. I wrote about that here. On day #42, I ran part of the Wildcat course with some pain and some doubt as to my ability to run on race day.
Day #49 came. Race day. I had high hopes and was prepared to go the distance. I had signed up for 50K, three times around the 10 mile course. I imagined: the first loop would go okay with a bearable amount of pain; the second loop would be tougher and I would use an ankle brace if needed; the third loop might be a bitch and I might have to walk a lot and maybe drag my dead foot along. The reality was: by mile two, I had some tough pain going on; by mile three, I was texting my wife to say I “probably” wouldn’t do more than one loop; by mile four, I was texting my wife to say I was “definitely” not doing more than one loop; by mile five, I gave up on texting because I was so drenched with the humidity that the touch screen on my phone wouldn’t recognize my sweaty swipes; also by mile five, I gave up on running and walked; by mile eight, I just wanted it to be over; by mile nine, I ran the remainder of the course to at least come in running. I was done.
At the end, someone said to me, “Wow. It took you 3 hours and 20 minutes to do that one loop??” I mumbled something about my ankle being angry at me. I felt like it wasn’t worth explaining. I went home feeling dejected. For months I had my heart set on completing this race as my first 50K. It didn’t happen.
I probably took a few steps in the wrong direction as far as my recovery goes. As of this writing (day #60), I have seen my orthopedic doctor again. He has ordered an MRI. He is concerned that something is torn. I’m still a bit dejected, but I also realize that I don’t have much control over this situation. The only control I have is to not run. That is really hard when running is all I want to do.
Please enjoy these photos. I’ll be over here in a corner licking my wounds. *wink*
Sometimes You Have to Fly Like an Eagle
Sometimes you have to fly like an eagle… or at least try to get yourself up off the ground.
On day #38 after badly spraining my ankle, I could not take the seemingly eternal days of no running any longer. Eight days after my second visit to the orthopedic doctor, in which he said, “I don’t recommend any impact exercises for three more weeks,” I was eager to get moving. With 13 physical therapy appointments under my belt and with huge progress made, I was ready to step out and test the ankle. It was time to fly.
I found out about a 5K cross country race at a park in Morris Plains, which is not far from my home. The price was right, only 10 bucks. The weather was gorgeous, low humidity. So, I tested the ol’ ankle out by running, very gingerly, back and forth on the driveway. It didn’t feel too bad. I decided to go to the race.
Here is what was driving me. A few months back, I signed up for my first 50K trail race. I’ve been psyched for this big time. That race is now only 10 days away. It’s a 10 mile loop in the woods near Rockaway, NJ. I signed up for 3 loops. My thinking was, if I can successfully, however slowly, run a 5K at this point, MAYBE I could do at least one 10 mile loop in 10 days. No, I don’t mean it will take me 10 days to go 10 miles. You know what I mean. This 5K was my test which would enable me to make my go/no go decision for the bigger race.
I am more than happy to report that the decision is: GO! My performance in the 5K was satisfactory. The pain level was bearable. I compensated for my compromised ankle by shortening my stride and slowing my pace. I was able to run the first two miles steadily. After that point I had to walk several seconds a handful of times. I finished the race at 31:02 and I wasn’t last! After all was said and done, my ankle was no worse for wear. I went home and iced. The next morning it felt better than the previous day.
After running the 5K, I would say that this injury has 1.) made me more mindful of my form, and 2.) increased my focus while running. To the first point, I had to keep my form as correct as possible (good posture, engaged core, no heel strikes, etc.) in order to run at all with this weakened ankle. To the second point, I could not afford in mishaps due to carelessness. The ankle is still tender. I knew that tripping on a root or a stone, or slipping on gravel could bring me down. I knew I was taking a risk. Increased focus made that risk manageable.
I wasn’t exactly flying like an eagle in this race. But I did manage to test my wings a bit. And I got an awesome selfie with a gigantic eagle. I wasn’t quite ready to soar yet. But I did get off the ground for a bit. Mission accomplished.
Upward
It never felt so good to set foot on a trail as it did yesterday. It had been 19 days since I sprained my right ankle badly. To make it a half mile up Mt. Tammany, carefully, was rewarding indeed. To be walking without crutches, to be walking without a fracture boot, to be able to fit my foot into a sneaker and walk with tolerable pain, felt good. To return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, was a psychological necessity. Even the 30 minutes I spent on the trail was satisfying.
Here’s what happened on June 26. It was a Sunday. A nice sunny day, not extremely hot. I arrived at the Delaware Water Gap later than I had planned. By then there were quite a number of hikers on the trails while I was running. I always enjoy the friendly encounters with people on the trails, but it increases the obstacles along the way. This is what led to my downfall. Literally. I was two miles into my plan of 12 to 15 miles. Coming down the mountain, moving rather quickly, weaving between people, I stepped on an unstable rock. My ankle rolled in. Then my ankle rolled out. My ankle completely gave out with the next step. My momentum was too strong and the grade of the hill a little too steep for me to get control and stop myself. While everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, I remembered to tuck my head and roll, just like we did when we were kids. I think the ground has gotten much harder over the years since I was a kid!
My first thought was, “I hope I can finish the rest of my run.”
After several steps down the trail, my thought became, “I hope I can make it out of the woods to my car!”
I managed to hobble nearly a mile to the parking lot. I then drove the 30 miles to home. My wife took me to a “walk in” urgent care facility. I’m not sure the manner in which I maneuvered myself into the place would be considered walking in. Then I traded a running shoe for a stylish boot.
Several sessions of physical therapy and many hours of icing my foot later, I was able to traverse a half mile of the Red Trail up 360 feet of Mt. Tammany’s 1,100 feet of elevation gain, at which point there is this wonderful view:
Coming back down the trail was significantly harder on my ankle than going up. I had to be ultra-careful. A slight slip on gravel caused enough pain for me to doubt the wisdom of my decision to go up the trail in the first place.
A funny thing happened along the way down too. I got a phone call. It was an automated reminder of my upcoming appointment with my orthopedist on Tuesday. It was like he sensed I was pushing my limits. Or maybe he was just letting me know he was thinking of me.
I have a long way to go to be back in good running shape. Walking and moderate hiking are now tolerable. I am able to use a stationary recumbent bike for up to 45 minutes. So, at this point, the following picture sums up the way I feel about my progress so far. Onward and upward!
