Coming Back

I know, I know. Posted more than once a day is dumb. But this entry needs to be separate from the others. I will make it short and sweet. I am coming back to running. I am so dang sick of not running it kills me. Short history: I have been running since I was 10. I ran seriously all through high school and loved every second. I was never injured, ever. Until my senior year. I had some issues that last year, but stayed a float well enough to earn an athletic scholarship to the University of Colorado, one of the top running programs in the country. When I amped up my milage that summer to get ready for collegiate cross country, I hurt my knee. It has never been the same. My IT band would hurt so bad I could barely walk. I essentially didn't run at all my freshman year of college. I redshirted the whole year. I had a strained achilles, stress fractured femur, and the knee to deal with. Let's just say I came home to Utah about 10 pounds fatter than when I left. I hated swimming for exercise, too. It doesn't work and I felt like an idiot at CU's campus pool doing swim running. I am getting heating just sitting here writing about the whole frustrating situation. When I came home for the summer after my freshman year, I decided to not go back. I went to Colorado to run, and I had barely run at all. Even with a nice scholarship, out of state tuition is a beast. I just couldn't justify it. So I went to Paul Pilkington. I had known him for years and I had thought about running for him at Weber State, but opted to go with CU. Given the situation, I asked for his help, and he gave me a spot on his team. I would get to run on my old trails with my old team mate Sarah Callister (who, by the way, had been running out of her mind fast all year, and still is). It took a long time to come back. My knee would flare up once every couple weeks and I would cross train for a few days. I never let it get as bad as it had been. I got to race a couple times in cross country, but I didn't do so with very much pride. I was in the back of the pack, waaaay back. I then got to run some indoor track, again, with very little pride. I was embarrassed at how slow I was racing. Then outdoor track came along and I got to run the steeple chase, and that is fun stuff. My roommate from my freshman year at CU, Shalaya Kipp, ran in the 2012 (I think) Olympics in Beijing in the steeple chase, so I tried to harness her chi. It helped a little I think. I was able to run at conference in Sacramento, but I took 9th, barely missing a scoring spot. Then summer came. Summer is when you do less speed work and more miles. That is not my perfect cup of tea. Don't get me wrong, I love 15 miles on a Saturday morning. But my knee does not.

I remember the day in September. The whole WSU team was doing mile repeats at the 21st street pond. I felt fast and healthy. I was doing 5:35 miles, three times. Way better than I had done since my senior year of year school. In the middle of the second rep, my knee locked up. It felt like someone had stuck a shovel into the outside of my left knee. I stopped immediately, hopping along on one leg and putting pressure on the painful spot; where the IT band meets the knee joint. I left practice, and never went back.

I did physical therapy for six weeks. In the last two years I had tried everything. The three or four docs I talked to said surgery or a sabbatical from running were my only options. I chose the break. I didn't run a step for a few months. After that, I tried a couple times to go "jogging" and I was unsuccessful. For the last year, I have been putting on my running shoes once every few weeks to test the waters. I haven't been able to run more than 15 minutes for a long time. But those were the best days. Normally it would last between 4-6 minutes before I would turn around with my tail between my legs and walk home. Walk. Luckily it was only ever a few blocks. I could hike, and maybe throw some jogging in that way. So I did. I did cross fit for a little while in there. I went biking a few times. But nothing really notable changed.

Then, three months ago, I decided to try some short, slow, intervals on the treadmill. I am lucky enough to have access to a really nice treadmill at my moms house. I would warm up at a glacial pace, run a couple 200's at a less glacial pace, then cool down at the glacial-est pace for a few minutes, before stepping off the treadmill in only minor pain. I continued to do this a couple times a week, increasing the length of the interval or the number of reps, taking an entire week off if my knee ever hurt. I got up to 4x400 at 6 minute pace with 1:1 rest with two more miles of warm up/ cool down at an 8 minutes pace. If you know anything about track, you know that's pathetic.

Then, it got warm outside. I decided to do some trail running. I discovered a route that took me 45 minutes to walk/jog (I don't use the term "jog" lightly. It's offensive to real runners. But seriously, I was barely even jogging. I have a saying written on my mirror in my old room... "If you run without sacrifice, congratulations, you just jogged). I had to keep reminding myself that I am "running" with sacrifice, so I am ok.

I repeated that exact same route 2-5 times per week for the last 6 weeks. And, my knee doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt! And, I have been able to really push myself. I can't do much up or down hill, but I can haul on the flats. I pay very close attention to how my knee feels. If if hurts in the slightest, I stop and hike/walk home. I have had to walk over two miles, rather than run, in order to protect the stupid knee.

So, that's where I am. I have one route I am comfortable doing. I did a different route two days ago with my old coach, Alydia, and that's when I ended up walking home. I think I will stick to my route and just appreciate what I can get for a while. I went and saw Meriko, a genius of a message therapist, yesterday, and I think she can help me get through the beginning phase. I also have an arsenal of other people willing to help me. My mom who, in the biggest way, will always support my running. My husband, who gave me a fist bump when I called Alydia and told her I wanted to run fast again. Alydia, who is going to train my ace back into shape. Missy Allred, who is already getting me on an injury prevention program. My sister Avery, who inspires me like she will never know. Watching her come to the end of her track career brings tears to my eyes and lights a fires under my feet. My sister Lauren, who makes coming back to running look easy.

I am so excited for this journey. Give me one year. I need one year, and I will be back.