I'm starting to battle a small amount of depression. I'm acutely aware of its cause, but it's very hard to combat. I lead an above normal active lifestyle. Some people run, others go to the gym, others cycle to work and still others play recreational soccer a few times per week; I do them all. However, because of the injury I sustained to my rib a bit over a week ago, I've had to dramatically curb my physical activity. This has left me feeling underworked, physically, which leaves me unstable, mentally.
Yesterday was the worst of it, and today I will attempt to climb back out of it. I'd wanted to write an update to my blog both Monday and Tuesday, but I was not able to muster the words. Monday was Columbus day. I had intended to go on a bike ride with a friend that always pushes my physical limits on two wheels. I was looking forward to the exerted feelings my body is left with after a strong ride. The weather was perfect and I was excited about not pounding the pavement. Biking, I assumed, would give my rib a bit of reprieve.
In the string of bad luck I'd encountered a few weeks ago, the front wheel to my road bike had been taken. I ordered a few replacement parts and my riding buddy held the missing pieces necessary to reassemble my machine. The problem is, come Monday morning, my riding buddy had become radio silent. I reached out a few times during the morning, but by 10am I'd lost hope that we would be able to convene and go.
The morning was a beautiful one and I knew that the weather could not be wasted. Over the weekened, while in St. Louis, I'd received a text message inquiring about my desire to head out for a hike on Monday. I'd politely declined in favor of the biking. With that out of the question, I quickly attempted to re-instate the plans to hike.
Washington, DC, is about an hour and half to two hours from Shenandoah National Park. The discrepancy in time lies in whether or not you encounter traffic, which trailhead you're driving too and how fast you actually drive to get there. There are two staple hikes that I usually call upon - Old Rag and Whiteoak Canyon. They are two very different hikes, but neither of them seem to grow old. Of course, if I were to find the time to make the trip west to the mountains a bit more often, I'd have to add a few more circuits to my repertoire.
We decided on Old Rag and left DC around 11:30am. We did encounter a bit of traffice on I-66. Construction on a holiday can be very bad. It added at least 30 minutes to our trip, but I kept reminding myself that the entire point of the hike was to head out and have a relaxed day. The weather was fantastic: sunny and 75 degrees with a bright blue, cloudless sky. Once we surpassed the construction we exited the interstate and hit the smaller highways. The wind from the open windows whisked our hair and cooled our faces. It's amazing how a relatively short car ride from the city can transfer you to such an open and enjoyable place.
Old Rag is one of the most famous hikes in the Shenandoah. It affords the best views and after hiking on a tree covered switchback trail for a mile and half you get to the boulder scramble. The first time I ever hiked Old Rag I encountered a hiker shortly before that portion of the hike. He informed myself and my hiking companion that just up ahead was the boulder scramble - "people love that part." Ever since then, it's been an inside joke of sorts.
Seeing as it was a holiday and we were one of the last cars to reach the almost completely full parking area, it should have come to no surprise that there was a "traffic jam" at the start of the boulder scramble. To the uninitiated, the boulder scramble portion of the hike involves approximately a mile of walking, climbing and slithering over, under and around gigantic rocks. The maze of rocks is not constant. It is common to propel yourself up and over a set of balanced boulders and then find yourself, once again, hiking on a singletrack trail. The traffic jam occurs because some people have a harder time maneuvering portions of the fallen boulders. While they are struggling to negotiate their way, others are left to watch and wait.
It wasn't horrible by any means, and some of the back ups occurred at places that imparted magnificent views. Having hiked throughout the western United States and in Alaska, I have an adjusted judgement of what qualifies as magnificent on the east coast. In the grand scheme of things I would much rather be on top of a mountain in Colorado or Wyoming, staring out at other peaks and the expanse of valleys and flat lands below. The views in the Shenandoah are different, yet still inspiring. In the more than 10 times I've hiked Old Rag, today provided the clearest skies and the ability to see the furthest. In addition, the leaves had begun to expunge their cholorphyll and change colors. The height of leave changing season probably isn't for another couple of weeks, but the hint of what is to come was there - and it was on rolling hills as far as the eye could see.
The boulder scramble was fun, but the pulling motions with my arms combined with the impact of having to jump or lower myself down from certain perches on the trail began to agitate my injured rib. I'd hoped that the activities of the day would allow my rib to rest while simultaneously engaging my body physically. I'm quickly reminding myself that what I discovered about rib injuries a couple of years ago still stands: everything active affects it in some way.
At the top of the climb we rested and relaxed. It took us a bit under 2 hours to climb the 3+ miles to the top. We sat on one of the highest boulders on the mountain and let the wind cool our sweaty backs and brows. The sun shined bright onto our faces. The weather could not have been better. Any hotter or more humid would have had us sweating much more profusely. Any cooler would have had our bodies inginiting goose bumps. What makes hikes all the more rewarding is that there is no paltry way to the top - you've got to be willing to exert yourself physically to reap these rewards!
The back half of the hike is a lot easier than the way up. After the scramble, the 4+ miles back to the parking lot can seem a bit dull. However, I like to use that time to appreciate the beauty of the scenery. 2 miles down is on a trail and then you hit an almost flat ground fire road for the remainder. The fire road parallels a canyon stream and the noise it emits relaxs and soothes.
As we descended I was talking with my buddy, explaining to him how the injured rib affects my normal routine of physical activity. We also talked about ultra marathoners, triatheletes and other "extreme" athletes. I joked that sometimes I feel that I do almost everything I can physically and it amazes me that there are people that do things on a more extensive and intense level. My mind always begins to wander if I have it in me to make that step at any point in my life.
The ride home was relaxing, too, but my agitated rib was causing me discomfort. I wondered how it would feel the following day.
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Tuesday, October 10, 2006
I awoke on Tuesday very sore in the ribs. The injury tends to intensify in the mornings and evenings. It hurts to sit up in bed, cough, laugh, move quickly and sometimes it hurts to just go about your daily activities. Tuesday it seemed to hurt more than Monday, so I'd really flirted with the idea of scrapping the 9 mile run for the day. After the hike on Monday I went to the 9:30 club to see Built to Spill when I should have been catching up on sleep from the weekend in St. Louis. I knew I wasn't going to get up at 6:30 to complete the run before my weekly breakfast with Jason at 9. So, for all intents and purposes I'd acquised to the idea of not running.
I am a man that likes scheduling and structure. There are times when I prefer to throw all of that out of the window, but when it comes to learning, studying or training I like to have an order to my operation. Whether the structure or plan is correct or not is besides the point; I want to follow something. So, to miss a day of training was already beginning to bug me by the time I'd finished breakfast.
We were again adorned with a beautiful day. After weighing over the options in my head, I determined that strapping on the shoes and heading out, no matter how painful, would be better for me than to skip the run. Thankfully the first few steps were less painful than the ones on Sunday's run. In fact, after the first mile, I was feeling pretty good. As I kept pushing myself I wasn't noticing any pain. My legs were a bit tired overall. I kept thinking that I was probably running a faster pace than the iPod + Nike system was telling me, but a lot of that could have very well been from the long run on Friday, the run Sunday and then the lengthy hike Monday.
I did the 9 mile run at a 7:40/mile average pace and felt great afterwards. A lot of thoughts in regards to my injury, my running and life in general passed through my mind. I was tired and a bit tight following the jaunt. I was glad that I had gone for it, though. My rib hurt afterwards, but I'm not sure that it would have hurt any less had I not gone for the run. It's just something that I am going to have to deal with, unfortunately.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wednesday is typically the day for track workouts, but I decided to skip last night's. I had a soccer game following it, and had hoped that would be enough to ignite my body, physically. A few weeks ago I did a track workout and by the time I reached the soccer field I felt more incredible than ever before. The near sprinting prior to going out on the field really had my heart pumping and my legs loose. Last night was a different story.
I arrived almost at game time and didn't properly warm up. None of us ever do. It's recreational soccer and we all lace up our boots, kick the ball around for a bit, and then start the game. If I were to discipline myself to jog, stretch and even sprint before the game, I'm sure that I would benefit from performance during the game. Here, however, is where the double edge sword rears its head. I showed up to the game feeling a bit "off." My rib was already sore and the thought of moving and getting warmed up wasn't appealing. I'd rather just get out there in the heat of the moment and go for it.
That's essentially what I ended up doing, and it left me with mixed results. My rib hurt almost the entire time I was on the field. The pounding of the cleats on the turf sent jolts to my torso. I was able to get warmed up, but the substitution sequence left me on the sideline for lengthy portions of both the first and second halfs. I'd sacrificed a track workout in favor of running around for 75-90 minutes on the field. In the end, I probably played 45 minutes total. Though we won a relatively easy game 4-1, I left the field feeling defeated both physically and mentally.
I want to be able to maintain my normal exercise routine. I like running 5 mornings a week, doing a track workout, hitting the gym at lunch, biking to work and playing soccer a couple of times a week. All of that takes a bit of motivation at times, but I know that I am going to leave feeling better physically and more accomplished mentally. Now, I'm trying to find some sort of balance, a medium. I want to be able to continue to run, but want to provide rest to my rib, so I skip the gym (all of the sit ups and other movements I assume will cause more pain). My preferred bike has been out of commission and my schedule for work has allowed me drive in or work from home. All in all, I'm facing a mental challenge that I wasn't prepared to deal with at this stage in my marathon training. I am attempting to see it as another fued I must tackle in the long road to accomplishment. At times, though, it feels like nothing more than an unwanted burden.
That said, it's Thursday morning and I need to log 5 miles. It hurts to move and sit up, but if Tuesday taught me anything, I've got to play through the pain!
Yesterday was the worst of it, and today I will attempt to climb back out of it. I'd wanted to write an update to my blog both Monday and Tuesday, but I was not able to muster the words. Monday was Columbus day. I had intended to go on a bike ride with a friend that always pushes my physical limits on two wheels. I was looking forward to the exerted feelings my body is left with after a strong ride. The weather was perfect and I was excited about not pounding the pavement. Biking, I assumed, would give my rib a bit of reprieve.
In the string of bad luck I'd encountered a few weeks ago, the front wheel to my road bike had been taken. I ordered a few replacement parts and my riding buddy held the missing pieces necessary to reassemble my machine. The problem is, come Monday morning, my riding buddy had become radio silent. I reached out a few times during the morning, but by 10am I'd lost hope that we would be able to convene and go.
The morning was a beautiful one and I knew that the weather could not be wasted. Over the weekened, while in St. Louis, I'd received a text message inquiring about my desire to head out for a hike on Monday. I'd politely declined in favor of the biking. With that out of the question, I quickly attempted to re-instate the plans to hike.
Washington, DC, is about an hour and half to two hours from Shenandoah National Park. The discrepancy in time lies in whether or not you encounter traffic, which trailhead you're driving too and how fast you actually drive to get there. There are two staple hikes that I usually call upon - Old Rag and Whiteoak Canyon. They are two very different hikes, but neither of them seem to grow old. Of course, if I were to find the time to make the trip west to the mountains a bit more often, I'd have to add a few more circuits to my repertoire.
We decided on Old Rag and left DC around 11:30am. We did encounter a bit of traffice on I-66. Construction on a holiday can be very bad. It added at least 30 minutes to our trip, but I kept reminding myself that the entire point of the hike was to head out and have a relaxed day. The weather was fantastic: sunny and 75 degrees with a bright blue, cloudless sky. Once we surpassed the construction we exited the interstate and hit the smaller highways. The wind from the open windows whisked our hair and cooled our faces. It's amazing how a relatively short car ride from the city can transfer you to such an open and enjoyable place.
Old Rag is one of the most famous hikes in the Shenandoah. It affords the best views and after hiking on a tree covered switchback trail for a mile and half you get to the boulder scramble. The first time I ever hiked Old Rag I encountered a hiker shortly before that portion of the hike. He informed myself and my hiking companion that just up ahead was the boulder scramble - "people love that part." Ever since then, it's been an inside joke of sorts.
Seeing as it was a holiday and we were one of the last cars to reach the almost completely full parking area, it should have come to no surprise that there was a "traffic jam" at the start of the boulder scramble. To the uninitiated, the boulder scramble portion of the hike involves approximately a mile of walking, climbing and slithering over, under and around gigantic rocks. The maze of rocks is not constant. It is common to propel yourself up and over a set of balanced boulders and then find yourself, once again, hiking on a singletrack trail. The traffic jam occurs because some people have a harder time maneuvering portions of the fallen boulders. While they are struggling to negotiate their way, others are left to watch and wait.
It wasn't horrible by any means, and some of the back ups occurred at places that imparted magnificent views. Having hiked throughout the western United States and in Alaska, I have an adjusted judgement of what qualifies as magnificent on the east coast. In the grand scheme of things I would much rather be on top of a mountain in Colorado or Wyoming, staring out at other peaks and the expanse of valleys and flat lands below. The views in the Shenandoah are different, yet still inspiring. In the more than 10 times I've hiked Old Rag, today provided the clearest skies and the ability to see the furthest. In addition, the leaves had begun to expunge their cholorphyll and change colors. The height of leave changing season probably isn't for another couple of weeks, but the hint of what is to come was there - and it was on rolling hills as far as the eye could see.
The boulder scramble was fun, but the pulling motions with my arms combined with the impact of having to jump or lower myself down from certain perches on the trail began to agitate my injured rib. I'd hoped that the activities of the day would allow my rib to rest while simultaneously engaging my body physically. I'm quickly reminding myself that what I discovered about rib injuries a couple of years ago still stands: everything active affects it in some way.
At the top of the climb we rested and relaxed. It took us a bit under 2 hours to climb the 3+ miles to the top. We sat on one of the highest boulders on the mountain and let the wind cool our sweaty backs and brows. The sun shined bright onto our faces. The weather could not have been better. Any hotter or more humid would have had us sweating much more profusely. Any cooler would have had our bodies inginiting goose bumps. What makes hikes all the more rewarding is that there is no paltry way to the top - you've got to be willing to exert yourself physically to reap these rewards!
The back half of the hike is a lot easier than the way up. After the scramble, the 4+ miles back to the parking lot can seem a bit dull. However, I like to use that time to appreciate the beauty of the scenery. 2 miles down is on a trail and then you hit an almost flat ground fire road for the remainder. The fire road parallels a canyon stream and the noise it emits relaxs and soothes.
As we descended I was talking with my buddy, explaining to him how the injured rib affects my normal routine of physical activity. We also talked about ultra marathoners, triatheletes and other "extreme" athletes. I joked that sometimes I feel that I do almost everything I can physically and it amazes me that there are people that do things on a more extensive and intense level. My mind always begins to wander if I have it in me to make that step at any point in my life.
The ride home was relaxing, too, but my agitated rib was causing me discomfort. I wondered how it would feel the following day.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
I awoke on Tuesday very sore in the ribs. The injury tends to intensify in the mornings and evenings. It hurts to sit up in bed, cough, laugh, move quickly and sometimes it hurts to just go about your daily activities. Tuesday it seemed to hurt more than Monday, so I'd really flirted with the idea of scrapping the 9 mile run for the day. After the hike on Monday I went to the 9:30 club to see Built to Spill when I should have been catching up on sleep from the weekend in St. Louis. I knew I wasn't going to get up at 6:30 to complete the run before my weekly breakfast with Jason at 9. So, for all intents and purposes I'd acquised to the idea of not running.
I am a man that likes scheduling and structure. There are times when I prefer to throw all of that out of the window, but when it comes to learning, studying or training I like to have an order to my operation. Whether the structure or plan is correct or not is besides the point; I want to follow something. So, to miss a day of training was already beginning to bug me by the time I'd finished breakfast.
We were again adorned with a beautiful day. After weighing over the options in my head, I determined that strapping on the shoes and heading out, no matter how painful, would be better for me than to skip the run. Thankfully the first few steps were less painful than the ones on Sunday's run. In fact, after the first mile, I was feeling pretty good. As I kept pushing myself I wasn't noticing any pain. My legs were a bit tired overall. I kept thinking that I was probably running a faster pace than the iPod + Nike system was telling me, but a lot of that could have very well been from the long run on Friday, the run Sunday and then the lengthy hike Monday.
I did the 9 mile run at a 7:40/mile average pace and felt great afterwards. A lot of thoughts in regards to my injury, my running and life in general passed through my mind. I was tired and a bit tight following the jaunt. I was glad that I had gone for it, though. My rib hurt afterwards, but I'm not sure that it would have hurt any less had I not gone for the run. It's just something that I am going to have to deal with, unfortunately.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wednesday is typically the day for track workouts, but I decided to skip last night's. I had a soccer game following it, and had hoped that would be enough to ignite my body, physically. A few weeks ago I did a track workout and by the time I reached the soccer field I felt more incredible than ever before. The near sprinting prior to going out on the field really had my heart pumping and my legs loose. Last night was a different story.
I arrived almost at game time and didn't properly warm up. None of us ever do. It's recreational soccer and we all lace up our boots, kick the ball around for a bit, and then start the game. If I were to discipline myself to jog, stretch and even sprint before the game, I'm sure that I would benefit from performance during the game. Here, however, is where the double edge sword rears its head. I showed up to the game feeling a bit "off." My rib was already sore and the thought of moving and getting warmed up wasn't appealing. I'd rather just get out there in the heat of the moment and go for it.
That's essentially what I ended up doing, and it left me with mixed results. My rib hurt almost the entire time I was on the field. The pounding of the cleats on the turf sent jolts to my torso. I was able to get warmed up, but the substitution sequence left me on the sideline for lengthy portions of both the first and second halfs. I'd sacrificed a track workout in favor of running around for 75-90 minutes on the field. In the end, I probably played 45 minutes total. Though we won a relatively easy game 4-1, I left the field feeling defeated both physically and mentally.
I want to be able to maintain my normal exercise routine. I like running 5 mornings a week, doing a track workout, hitting the gym at lunch, biking to work and playing soccer a couple of times a week. All of that takes a bit of motivation at times, but I know that I am going to leave feeling better physically and more accomplished mentally. Now, I'm trying to find some sort of balance, a medium. I want to be able to continue to run, but want to provide rest to my rib, so I skip the gym (all of the sit ups and other movements I assume will cause more pain). My preferred bike has been out of commission and my schedule for work has allowed me drive in or work from home. All in all, I'm facing a mental challenge that I wasn't prepared to deal with at this stage in my marathon training. I am attempting to see it as another fued I must tackle in the long road to accomplishment. At times, though, it feels like nothing more than an unwanted burden.
That said, it's Thursday morning and I need to log 5 miles. It hurts to move and sit up, but if Tuesday taught me anything, I've got to play through the pain!
posted by Mike Mowery at 9:32 AM
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