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There Are No Wrong Turns

I’m a Taurus and so is my husband. It’s the perfect zodiac sign for me and if you’re unfamiliar with the character traits of a Taurus, allow me to share the following, as it is relevant to this post:

“Taurus are not fond of change. In fact, if change is imminent, they get very nervous and worried. They do not like anything new because anything new is unknown and Taurus fears the unknown. Taurus needs order in their lives and when they do not have order, they get very anxious. Taurus will cut themselves off from the unfamiliar in order to avoid the feelings of insecurity that arise when new experiences and situations are present.”

Yep, that’s about right. Change up my routine and I might freak out.

Last week I wrote that I was a lazy ass who needed to step away from cardio and embrace a little strength training. Lucky for me, the Universe decided to see how serious I was about that statement and on Friday, my lovely friend Susan invited me to hot yoga on Saturday morning. Saturday morning!?!? That’s my long cardio day! When I got her message, my lizard brain kicked in. The part of my brain that hates change and risk. The part of my brain that, as Seth Godin puts it, is the resistance that says back off, go slow, compromise. Immediately I started rationalizing in my head how I couldn’t miss my bike ride and elliptical “run”. Saturdays are meant for long hours of sweating.

Seriously? Was I really still making excuses to do 2 hours of cardio after I JUST said I needed to do the exact opposite? Here was my opportunity and I was already trying to shut it down. Perhaps it is the Taurus in me.

Luckily, I made myself commit to Susan before I could talk myself out of it. Then I immediately signed up online and paid for the class in advance. That way there was no chance of me backing out. Saturday morning came and at 7:50 am, I was on my mat, ready to go.

Hot yoga and I go way back. There was a time when I did Bikram religiously for a year. I loved the discipline, the difficulty, and the structure of the class. When I got to class Saturday morning, I had in my mind that all would be fine. I was a former Bikram student who was pretty decent at the poses and could by all means handle the heat. Oh how life has a sense of humor sometimes. You see a lot of things have changed since then. One, I haven’t been to hot yoga in years and two, I now have hardware inside my body. In particular, a screw that I feel jabbing me in the hip joint with just about every step I take. And add to that a left leg that wobbles like jelly because the cut muscles have yet to heal completely. My visions of graceful transitions and smooth warrior poses went out the window with my first attempt at chaturanga, downward dog, hop forward, forward bend. I am not the yoga student I once was and it was a hard reality check 10 minutes into class.

There came a point in class, perhaps while I was shaking uncontrollably in warrior 3, when it occurred to me that I should stop fighting myself. I should stop comparing my poses to the girl in front of me and I should stop being upset with myself that I didn’t have the flexibility or range of motion that I once did. I felt like I was trying to be someone I wasn’t and it was exhausting. I was fighting my current place in this world, the current condition of my body, and there was really no point to it. Why was I spending so much mental energy thinking about how I used to be so much better? That serves no purpose.

Then at the very end of class, the instructor read the following passage:

“There are no wrong turns, only paths we didn’t know we were meant to walk. In the end, to be a success you don’t have to be perfect, you just have to remain perfectly capable of improving. Keep letting your mistakes strengthen you. Life is a series of little journeys. Allow each step to be a teachable moment. And don’t confuse your path with your destination. Just because it’s stormy sometimes doesn’t mean you aren’t headed for sunshine.”

There is a part of me that is still fighting my hip and my body. Every time I take a step, I feel the constant reminder of my 2014 Boston  Marathon experience. And ever since I started running again, just about every day has been an emotional roller coaster. But I’m glad I switched up my routine Saturday morning. I’m glad I went to that yoga class and realized how much I was fighting myself and my body. But above all, I’m thankful for those words shared by the instructor at the end of class. They were the perfect words at the perfect moment. This is my path right now but I know my destination is sunshine.

Happy Trails and Happy Running,
Tracie

PS: I ran my second full mile on Sunday. It was slightly less painful and 10 seconds faster.

I Am Lazy

One hundred seconds is a very short amount of time. In fact, there are few things that you can start and finish in just 100 seconds. It takes longer than that just to brush your teeth. And based on the fact that at age 31, I had my very first cavity filled this morning, it seems I should be brushing a little longer. But I digress…

One minute and 40 seconds was all it took for me this morning to come to the sound conclusion that I, although I thought I was and some people may disagree, am not owning my healing process. I want results but not to endure change. That makes me lazy and you are probably wondering what the heck I am talking about. I shall explain.

First and foremost, you must watch this profound message from one of my all time favorite people, Jonathan Fields. If you don’t watch it, you’ll be confused. Go ahead, watch it. It’s only one minute and 40 seconds and it’ll leave you pondering your actions as a human being and as a member of society. I’ll be right here when you get back.

Go. Watch. It.

Intense, right? And although I don’t agree with the term “nobody”, he brings to light a very true fact. People want things to change. Change is hard. Subsequently, people (generally speaking), don’t do the work to make change happen. People don’t like hard.

In the almost three months since my surgery, I’d venture to say that I’ve lost very little of my cardio fitness. Why? Because I am a lean, mean, elliptical going machine. I have simulated speed workouts, tempo runs, and long training runs on the elliptical. Tabata intervals are my favorite and I pride myself on my sweatiness factor when I leave the gym. Yes, I am that person you do NOT want to be beside at the gym. But see the problem isn’t my cardiovascular fitness. I’m pretty certain that has a solid foundation and even if I stopped exercising for a month, it would still be solid.. The problem is my strength and I really don’t like doing strength training exercises. That’s why I’m cardio queen, as they call me at the gym. Not iron queen. But here is what that short video made me realize this morning: by avoiding what I obviously need to do, I’m refusing to own the process and I’m refusing to endure change. I’m being just like everyone else in the world who wants things to change but who doesn’t want to do the work. In other words, I’m being a lazy ass.

Cardio is easy for me. I’d do it all day, every day if I could. That’s why I like marathon training so much. But I don’t need more cardio in my life. I need strength. And based on my movement patterns, I’d say I need a little muscle memory retraining as well. As Mr. Fields so eloquently puts it, people want to own the results but nobody wants to own the process. I want the result of a stronger body and a stable hip. I have yet to own up to the process to get there.

To successfully endure change is to be one step above the rest. Today I will leave my dear friend the elliptical and introduce myself to the weight room. However, no worries. I’ll be back tomorrow. I could never leave my favorite machine completely. My intention is to not to leave cardio all together. That would be a really sad day. My intention is to gradually shift my focus from all out sprints to deep squats and weighted lunges. It might not be so bad after all. Even if I don’t like, I still have to do it. The result I’m after is to run another marathon. I have to face the fact that in order to get there, I need to get stronger.

Happy Trails and Happy Running,

Tracie

PS: I recently discovered the bad ass Neghar Fonooni. She’s pretty freakin’ strong but her workouts are metabolic workouts. In other words, she incorporates strength training and endurance training. That is a workout I can appreciate.

PPS: I ran my first full mile on Monday. It took 13 minutes but I made it. And I hurt afterwards. I don’t think my bone has quite taken to the screws in my hip just yet. Lovely.

Today I Ran

It’s been two months and 17 days since I last ran. Seventy days have passed since my hip surgery and I’ve had 17 physical therapy appointments since May 7th. Half of my birthday was spent in the hospital and the other half was spent on my couch. I have felt helpless, unable to do basic things such as shave my legs or tie my shoes. I have spent nights in pain, stuck on my back as my leg throbbed persistently. I’ve had to rely on others to help me up stairs and to bring me food. Small accomplishments have become huge victories and I don’t think I ever really stopped to internalize all of it until today, the day I ran again.

I have been looking forward to this day for a long time. Part of me has been looking forward to this day with excitement and the other part of me has been looking forward to it with fear. How bad would the pain be? Would I even be able to run? Would I fall and break my bone again? Or would it be way better than I ever expected? Would the pain disappear and the running return to me as if it had never left me? I had no idea but I did know, as I got ready for my PT appointment, I had better bring my running shoes.

When I walked out the door this morning, I thought to myself, maybe I should wait another week. Maybe the end of July would be safer and my hip would be more ready for the challenge.. Part of me was actually afraid to even try running. Shawn, my PT, and I had never actually discussed me running today. I just knew this week marked 3 weeks since my last doctor’s appointment and when he said I could try running again in three weeks. Shawn knew this and I’m glad I showed up prepared to run.

As I was warming up on the elliptical, Shawn walked by with a big grin on his face. “Tracie, we’re going to jog today!”

“Shit,” I told myself. “You can’t avoid it now. Just be ok with whatever happens.”

The majority of my PT session was spent doing leg strengthening. Walking lunges with weights, squats, single leg dead lifts, side lunges, etc. According to Shawn, my form and range of motion was great so I was ready. He said he couldn’t wait to see my face glow. I was certain it would be wincing in pain.

I hesitated to get on the treadmill. As crazy as it sounds, I knew this moment marked a new low for me. Up until this point, recovery has gone great. Everything has been smooth sailing for me but once I stepped on that treadmill, reality would set it. I was going to be starting from ground zero and there would be a long road ahead of me.

For some reason, I had in my mind that I would only be running for a few minutes. Test my hip out, see how it felt sort of jog. Shawn had a different idea. I got on the treadmill and he said he was setting the timer for 10 minutes. 10 freakin minutes!!! I was to run at whatever pace felt comfortable but it had to be fast enough to get that pounding motion of running. Sharp pain was bad but dull aches were okay. If at any point, I felt a sharp pain, I was to stop immediately.

Those first few steps felt actually very easy. Nothing hurt and it was like running had never left me. Then, at a pace of 4.6 mph on the treadmill, I felt exactly what I expected. Not a sharp pain but the dull ache of a screw in my hip and a rod in my leg. Some steps would be easier and some steps would be harder. I fidgeted with my form, focused on relaxation, anything that would help. But the reality was this was my new normal and I needed to accept it. Shawn had mentioned that my ability to run would also be attributed to my ability to tolerate pain. Again, not sharp pain but a pain that comes with a foreign object inside the body. I was trying to tolerate the pain as best I could.

After 8 minutes, Shawn came by and said he would save me from the 2 remaining minutes. I was relieved. According to the screen on on the treadmill, I ran .6 miles in 8 minutes. Shawn said I was cleared to start running again and although I held my emotions back inside the doctor’s office, I couldn’t help it when I got to my car.

I don’t know why I cried. Was it because I was so happy to run? Was it because I could only manage .6 miles at a 13:00 mph pace? I don’t know. And then I started thinking about the last two months. How much I had desperately been clinging to other forms of exercise, when all I really ever wanted to do was run again. How I had begrudgingly spent my mornings inside on an elliptical, swimming laps in a pool, or staring at a wall as I biked to nowhere. How I’ve tried so hard to not lose my aerobic capacity. As I sat in my car, feeling both proud and sad at the fact I just ran .6 miles, I realized just how much I want to run. It’s the place where I feel most like myself and it’s the place where I feel most present. It’s the place where I feel most alive and as tired as running can make me, it gives me the energy to do just about anything. Every mile brings a sense of accomplishment that spinning and the elliptical never will. The more I thought about these things, the more emotional I became. I just want to run.

A little over two months ago, I was told I wouldn’t run again for 6 months to a year. At the time, I was okay with it because I just wanted my hip to stop hurting. Now I know that I’m not okay with that. Even if I start out with half mile jogs, I realize it’s what I must do in order to get to where I want to be. I look forward to those mornings when I can watch the sun rise as I run along my favorite running routes. I don’t know when that will be exactly but today was the first big step to getting there.

Happy Trails and Happy Running,

Tracie

A Paint By Numbers Life

The art of telling a good story is a true gift. To relive a personal experience in front of a group of people while being vulnerable isn’t for everyone.  Add to that a story with fluidity, emotions, and a life lesson and you’ve got yourself a special person. Perhaps that is why I like The Moth podcast so much.

I first listened to The Moth a few years ago but for some reason or another, I did not subscribe to it. Last week I revisited the podcast and have since gained a new appreciation for story telling. As I rode with Mario to The Parlour in Durham yesterday (amazing ice cream by the way!), we heard stories of a young girl fleeing Afghanistan to come to America, a 16 year old teenager taking her brother to the 1983 All Star baseball game with practically no money, and a crazy journalist tagging along with a group of herpetologists in search of a 22 foot python. We laughed, I cried (good stories do that to me), and we were left with a few life lessons to think about. What it means to live in the moment, to be adventurous, and to live a paint by numbers life. I love good stories.

Last night as we finished our second episode of House of Cards, the lifestyle of Frank Underwood brought us to the discussion of what it means to lead a paint by numbers life. I haven’t seen a paint by numbers kit since I was about 10 years old and Mario has never seen one. Apparently they don’t exist in Cuba. In trying to explain this ready made picture with predetermined colors, the image of what Tom Bodette was trying to explain in his story became very clear.  A cookie cutter type lifestyle lacking novelty, straying from adventure, and more of the same, day after day, week after week. That is something I never want.

Today I started with my own little dose of “adventure” and although it was nothing grand, it was a big step for me. As I mentioned last week, I recently switched gym memberships so I could start swimming. (I see an Ironman in my future, even though it’s a very distant, distant future.) Unfortunately parking isn’t the easiest to come by at a college campus gym and it usually results in a parking ticket or a $4 charge for the parking deck. Solution? Bike there! Now I still don’t own a bike so I rented one for a week. I needed to know if I was okay with biking alongside cars. Saturday morning, bright and early, I tried my route before there was any traffic. Last night I packed a backpack with my swimming gear and told myself no matter what, I was biking to that darn gym. Sure, it’s not far and biking isn’t a big deal. But I’m slightly terrified of getting hit by a car, my hip is still a little tricky when I stop and go, and the rental bike is only a single speed. It makes for an excellent quad burn on any type of incline.

I actually had dreams about biking to the gym. That’s how nervous I was. But I told myself biking, swimming, triathlons – these are all things I’ve wanted for a long time and the only way to start is by biking the 1.5 miles to the gym, swimming, and then biking home. When I finally made it back home and Mario met me at the door, I greeted him by saying “I didn’t die!”. And I didn’t. I didn’t get hit by a car, nobody laughed at my stellar swimming technique, and I even passed the guy in the lane next to me. It was such a small feat and a simple workout, but it left me feeling all sorts of excitement. I ventured away from my hour of intervals on the elliptical, my pre-determined paint by numbers workout, and tried something a little outside of my comfort zone. It made my Monday morning amazing.

I’ve never thought of myself as living a paint by numbers lifestyle but I see how it happens. Today was another step in the direction of making sure that I always try to add a little adventure along my path.

Maybe I should get a bike like this!!

Maybe I should get a bike like this!!

Happy Trails and Happy Running,
Tracie

Injury Update: According to my doc, I can start working back into a running routine this week!!! I’m nervous and my hip still feels a little weak so I will see how it goes with my PT on Wednesday. Perhaps I will wait another week or two. It’s crazy to think about where I was two months ago and where I am today. Life just keeps on going. :)

 

A Runner Trying to Swim

Do you know what it’s like to be pretty decent at something, be proud of being decent at that something and then venture over to something somewhat similar and suck at it? It can put a real damper on your spirits and leave you with quite the feeling of inadequacy. That’s how I feel about swimming.

I know how to swim. I’m in good shape and I like pushing my body. I thought swimming should be a breeze, right? Wrong. I hate it. Like I’d rather spend hours on a stationary bike staring at a wall hate it. Like I’d rather run continuous 400 meter repeats on an asphalt track in the middle of July with 100% humidity hate it. I don’t like it and I don’t want to do it.

So why do I have this aversion to swimming? Well, for several reasons.

First, it’s hard. It’s not running and I have yet to develop my swimmer’s lungs. When I’m running, I can take in as much air as I want, whenever I want. It’s all around me for the breathing. But, with swimming, with your face staring at the bottom of the pool, your only hope of air comes every three strokes. And you better be quick about it because you’re going right back to the face down, zero air zone in .5 seconds. Then add some type of speed work and you’ll be gasping for air in no time. At least that’s my predicament.

Second, swimming in a pool is boring. Just plain boring. One of the things I love most about running is being in the outdoors, seeing new scenery, smiling at the people passing by. Swimming in a pool is a completely different story. I always start out my workouts with a positive attitude. This is going to be fun type mentality. Then 30 seconds later I hit a wall. Flip, turn around, and bam. There’s that damn wall again. This goes on for about 200 meters and then I’m done. I’m ready to get out and call it a day. But I can’t because 200 meters isn’t even the full warmup. Great.

Third, I’m bad at it. I’m use to being the decent athlete, or at least the decent runner. But in comparison to every other swimmer around me, I’m the worst. And that’s a hard reality to swallow. It’s like being the smartest person in your high school and then attending Harvard. You’re not nearly as cool as you thought you were.

But I have made the decision that, even though swimming is a thorn in my side, I am going to love it dearly. I am going to embrace swimming as a new runner would who hates running. Every day I’m going to show up to that pool, put on my really unattractive goggles, ignore the extremely fit swim team practicing beside me, and swim. From one wall to the other. Again. Again. And again. And I’ll ask my swimmer friends for help. I’ll learn why I’m so bad at swimming and I’ll work to change that. It’s like failing at something time and time again, but then one day, after enough hard work, things get better. I’ll work towards that better day.

Every morning I spend about 20 minutes reading and studying a little philosophy. This morning, in the Analects of Confucius, I read the following, “There is one single thread binding my way together…the way of the Master consists in doing one’s best… that is all.”

Swimming, I will do my best.

Happy Trails and Happy Running,
Tracie

I’m Not 20 Years Old Anymore

It hit me last week like a ton of bricks falling right on top of my head. It was a fact that, by some way or another, I had avoided for the past several years, and when the truth was staring me right in the face, I struggled to accept it.

Last week I made the decision to do an alumni membership at NC State’s Carmichael gym. It’s cheaper than my current gym and it has more equipment, pools, classes, and amenities than any gym lover could ever hope for.

Thursday morning I met an old friend there at 6:00 am and as we were stretching and chatting in the new cardio room, I had the profound realization that I am not 20 years old anymore. As I looked around at all of the young, tan, fit college kids, it dawned on me that I don’t look like that anymore. Somehow I had deluded myself into thinking I hadn’t aged a bit since I was in college. I’m 31 now and I now know that to be a false reality. Perhaps it was because at my previous gym, the average age range was 35-50. In comparison, I was the young, tan, fit one. Well maybe not tan, but at least young and fit.

So young, my 20th birthday

So young, my 20th birthday

Then yesterday I decided to go for a swim during the afternoon. I figured it would be the least crowded time at the gym and I could swim in peace. (By the way, I hate swimming. It is exponentially harder than running and I suck at it.) As luck would leave it, a high school team was practicing in one pool and the NC State diving team was practicing in the deep end of the other pool. Seriously, have you seen a college swim team practicing? Abs, legs, shoulders, and arms of steel. Note to self: must try harder.

I admit it… I struggled to accept this fact. When people say they are no spring chicken anymore or that their body is falling apart because they are getting old, I think to myself, not me! I’ll forever be known as cardio queen at my gym and my body will continue to get better and better every single day. Who am I kidding? I have two screws and a rod in my hip! I think that automatically puts me in the “my body is falling apart” category.

I get it. Age happens and there isn’t really much you can do about it. (I do admit that when I got home last Thursday I started researching age defying veggie juices.) We can’t all have six pack abs forever, although I never really had any in the first place. I’ve accepted that fact and I’m now okay with it now. But I’m not going to let it deter me from still pursuing my athletic dreams. Sure, I may not have the stamina and abs of those 20 something year olds, but you better believe I’m going to try my hardest to swim, bike, and run as best I can. And if I start drinking Swiss Chard Kale Juice, it’s only to help me swim faster. Promise. ;)

 

Happy Trails and Happy Running,

Tracie

(In the other picture, I’m 19 years old holding my sister’s dear cat Oscar.)

Be Nice to Strangers

I can’t write about running right now. It’s unfortunate but it gives me an opportunity to write about other things. Today’s post – a life post.

Age 21, year 2004
It was my favorite post long run ritual. Run XX miles, nap, go get a really large coffee drink, and then go to work. I could tell you everyone’s story at Gloria Jean’s Coffee. I asked. I knew their names, their weekend plans, and a thing or two about their family. I always smiled at them and 9 out of 10 times, I never paid for anything. Although it was never my objective to get free drinks, it just happened. Strangers who made a connection at the mall and my dear friend and coworker was always amazed. How do you do it? she would ask.

Simple, I responded. Care. 

Age 31, year 2014

Today I ventured into Starbucks to do a little work. One of my favorite songs was playing and the barista was jamming along. Singing, dancing, and having more fun than most people would while making drinks. I may or may not have done my own little dance too while waiting for my drink. I told the barista how much I enjoyed his dancing. His response? Oh, have you tried the new fizzio? I’ll make you one. And he did. It was delicious.

I love people. All sorts of people. It fascinates me to think that there are over 7 billion unique stories in the world and every time I meet a stranger is another opportunity to be a part of one of those stories. Over the years, I have found the incredible importance of a genuine smile and a kind word. When you take notice of someone else, step outside of your own world, and make the effort to connect, you break down the invisible wall that exists between you and your fellow human being. And in return, a whole new world opens up. One of loving compassion that shows you how awesome human beings really are. Just as you are trying to find your way in this world, so too is every one else. We are not the strangers we think we are.

Make a new friend today. Be a part of someone else’s story.

Happy Trails and Happy Running,

Tracie

Injury Update: According to my doc, I can start working back into a running routine next week. I have to be honest, I’m slightly terrified. I try jogging around the house and the result? Serious aching in my bones caused by that damn screw in my hip. My recovery has gone fairly well. However, I believe when I attempt to start running again, it’s going to be way harder than I ever thought. Oh well. One step at a time, right?

I Threw a Tomato at Someone and it was Amazing

Wednesday night is date night and I love date night.  A good dinner, a good bottle of wine, and a movie. It’s the perfect way to break up the week. This week I decided to show of my expert culinary skills and made scallops in the sous vide accompanied by a tasty cauliflower puree in the pressure cooker. I gave myself a 5 star rating, but I may be biased.

After dinner we decided to watch Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. What does it mean? You Don’t Get Life a Second Time.  The 1/2 English, 1/2 Hindi movie was quite confusing at first but subtitles remedied the main question… Was that English?  The story is about three friends, three adventures, and three life changing experiences. A comedy/drama that I actually really enjoyed. (I’m all about life movies.) One of the three adventures really left me feeling inspired. It included truck loads of tomatoes, La Tomatina (the tomato throwing festival in Spain), and hundreds of tomatoey people. I couldn’t help but to think of that one lone tomato sitting on my kitchen counter. What in the world was I ever going to do with that one tomato?

When the movie was over and my wine finished, my thoughts kept drifting back to the tomato. Yes, La Tomatina looked really messy and perhaps tomato juice is bad for the eyes, but they were having so much fun! I want to throw a tomato at someone. Now, it is clearly defined in the rules of tomato throwing that you have to squeeze the tomato first AND then you can throw it at someone. I imagine if you just chuck a tomato at someone and hit them upside the head, it would hurt. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I couldn’t help it. I ran to grab the tomato. (I couldn’t let Mario get there first.) My mind went back and forth as I contemplated my next action. Do I do it? Do I not do it? This is silly. Oh, but I really want to squeeze this tomato and throw it at Mario. Then I would have to clean it up. Do I want to clean it up? Would it be bad for the floors? How old am I again? What are the pros? What are the cons? Is he going to be mad? Now Mario knew what I was thinking and we were both laughing pretty hard. I figured since we were both laughing so much, he couldn’t be that mad. Then… splat! I did it. I squeezed that tomato and threw it at Mario’s head. Well more like gently placed it on his head and called it a little red hat, but it was the closest to tomato throwing I’d ever been. It was one of those rare moments in life when we both had tears coming down our faces because we were laughing so hard. Then he took his new “little red hat” and starting chasing me around the house. Not. Cool.

Yes, tomato throwing isn’t something your normal 31 year old “adult” does. But it was fun. It made us laugh. And there was no harm done. Why don’t we have more fun in life like that? Why do we analyze things so much that we take the fun out of them? Why don’t we do more random, crazy things? That was by far one of my favorite date nights and I owe it all to that one tomato I decided not to juice earlier in the week. I knew I would need it later but I just didn’t know what for. Novelty, fun, and a little silliness make life way more entertaining. As stated by the great philosopher Plato, “Life must be lived as play.” Now go have some fun.

I think Costco is having a sale on tomatoes…

Happy Trails and Happy Running,
Tracie

Patience

There was a time, and it really wasn’t that long ago, that I lay in my hospital bed throbbing in pain, pretty hopeless, and certain I would not set foot on my favorite running paths for at least six months. It was a time that I can still remember so vividly, but yet it seems like a lifetime ago. At the time I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see recovery and I couldn’t see the silver lining. Instead my mind wandered off to the bad things. All fitness would be lost, I would never be able to do the one thing I love so dearly ever again, and my exercise would take place inside a gym, one of my least favorite places.

During one of my many afternoons on the couch, I watched a Usain Bolt documentary. (I totally recommend it by the way.) At the end, a song came on and it immediately gave me goosebumps. I went to download it right away. The song is by Sean Paul and it is called “Hold On“. The verse that spoke to me the most goes like this:

“Although the road is long, we still hold on.
We carry on on, we still stay strong.
Today is long but tomorrow will come.
Hold on. Hold on now.”

I decided from that point that, that would be my philosophy.

Yesterday I was having a pretty kick ass workout at the gym and the song came on my iPod. Right then and there, during the middle of my tabata session, I had to reflect. I started thinking about where I was 7 weeks ago and where I am today. From a walker and shots in my stomach to 95% healed and the promise of running just three weeks away. My outlook is completely different. It has been a long road and there were many long days. But my tomorrow finally got here and I know there will be another tomorrow that is even better.

The mind chatter and the things we tell ourselves every day have a huge impact on where we go in life. Along with that, when we are in a not so great place and our patience is thin, we only add to the suffering. The 13th century Persian poet Rumi wrote that “Patience is the key to joy”. And when we are patient, our results are immediate.

Be patient with yourself. And no matter how long today is, tomorrow will get here. Eventually.

Happy Trails and Happy Running,
Tracie

Injury Update: I had a follow up appointment Monday with my doctor. According to my X-ray. I’m about 95% healed and in the 99th percentile as far as the healing process goes. At one point he just started laughing and said I was so far ahead of most people who had this surgery and if I wanted to run Boston next year, it was totally doable. (Don’t worry, I’m not putting that on my calendar just yet.) And the best news was that I could ease myself back into running in about 3 weeks. Only with a mile or two, but at least it’s something!
 

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Why I Do What I Do

This has been a big week for me. In fact, I’ve been waiting for this week since May 12th. Two weeks ago my doctor told me I could start biking and swimming on May 26th and that day couldn’t get here soon enough. I can honestly say that I have never been happier to sit indoors on a stationary bike. Then today my PT gave me even more great news. I am clear to start practicing yoga AND using the elliptical. Then as I did my single leg dead lifts, he told me he couldn’t even tell which leg was the bad leg. In my mind, I put a gold star beside my name. What did I do to deserve such great news? I guess my efforts to be the best physical therapy patient are starting to pay off.

I like to reflect and yesterday after my bike session (that may have included an interval or 10), I started pondering why it is I like exercise so much. Yes, I like being healthy and I think an active lifestyle is important but I feel like there is something more to it than that. I mean, as soon as I had permission to start doing pushups, I couldn’t get down on the ground fast enough. A lot of people aren’t like that. As I was walking around town this afternoon, a story I heard on the Rich Roll Podcast made it all click, and I finally understood why it is I like pushing my body so much. Rich Roll was talking about how athletes don’t think, they just do. They live in the moment and their bodies know exactly what to do and when to do it. *Lightbulb moment*  That is exactly why I like to run, bike, do the elliptical, run stairs, do tabata intervals of pushups, etc.…. because it forces me to be in the now. There is no moment when I am more fully present than when I am running (or biking, etc.) During 20 mile long runs, rarely does my mind drift and I like it that way. When I’m doing tabata intervals on the bike, it’s impossible to be thinking about anything else. My body demands that my brain is fully present. It is my version of mindfulness.

In my earlier workouts years, I tried to read a magazine while on the bike or elliptical. The result? A really gross, sweaty copy of SHAPE magazine. And I never made it past the first paragraph of any story. To this day, I still don’t understand how people read and workout at the same time. I can’t even watch tv. But that’s just me. I like to be fully present of everything I’m doing, from speed to resistance to intensity. Sometimes I go too far and I understand that. But any athlete will tell you, there is a fine line that exists between training hard enough and training too hard. How else do you find your limits?

As I return to the world of working out, many people are telling me to take it easy, and I am very grateful for the people who care so much about my wellbeing. Yes, I know I can be a borderline workout maniac but under no circumstances will I put my hip in jeopardy. This entire ordeal has been a tough, learning experience, and I never want to go through it again. However, I will still push myself. I will still work for a decent sweat and an elevated heart rate. I have to. It’s what forces me to be in the moment. It’s my version of meditation.

On another note, today marks four weeks since my surgery. I still can’t believe all that has changed. That day in the hospital seems so long ago.

April 30th, right after I got out of surgery

April 30th, right after I got out of surgery

 

May 28th, four weeks later

May 28th, four weeks later

 

Happy Trails and Happy Running,
Tracie

 

(The feature image is from last week… after much practice I was finally able to sit back on my feet. I was way too excited!)

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