A Lesson in Resilience

My beautiful spotted and four legged dalmatian friend, Chester, is 12 years old. Not long after his birthday he started to struggle staying upright. His hind legs just didn't seem to work properly anymore. He would wobble and stumble, and sometimes fall. Two weekends ago, it got worse. He started falling over more; his back end collapsing under him as he walked. He could no longer climb up on to the sofa and his feet would drag along behind him. A few vet visits later, including a consult with a canine neurologist, he was diagnosed with intervertebral disc disease. Basically, he has a number of herniated discs, one of which is causing him some pain and weakness in his hind legs. Surgery to fix the problem is full of risk, and would be hard on his body. Bed rest has therefore been prescribed. Our full of beans dog must stay inactive for at least 4 weeks so that the discs can heal.

Despite the stress of this situation, I am constantly amazed at Chester's tenacity and resilience. He has not lost his sparkle. He is as happy, go lucky as he has ever been. His light still shines extraordinarily brightly. Prior to his mandated bed rest, Chester bounced around the house despite the fact his body didn't really allow him to do so. He tried to get up on the sofa, even though he didn't have the strength. He will not be deterred. He falls over, but gets right back up again. He wobbles, but keeps moving forward. He has just adapted, or maybe just accepted, that his mobility is what it is, and it isn't going to stop him from being a dog. His exuberance is unbounded and it's humbling to see.

His energy and love for life doesn't allow him to accept limits. This is, of course, good and bad, especially when inactivity is critical for his healing. His worldview is not shaped by his new limits and he is just refusing to be different. He has every reason to be sad, or frustrated about this sudden change in mobility, but he just isn't. We have much to learn from our black and white spotted tail wagger.

Around the same time as Chester's illness, I developed another running related injury - a possible stress fracture in the lateral malleolus. I am currently in a boot and there is no running for me. I like to think, however inconvenient the timing, it is a sympathetic injury experienced in solidarity with my best pal. However, I have responded differently to it than Chester has to his change in ability. My issue is temporary, Chester's may not be. And yet, he continues unfazed. I, on the other hand, feel down that I can't run and had to miss a race. 

I want to be like Chester; I want to adapt and continue onwards. I have a new set of circumstances, and that is just the way it is until it isn't anymore. So be it. I think we all have much to learn from our canine friends, and this is probably not new information for the dog lovers out there. Resilience for, and management of, change can be taken in stride if we allow ourselves to respond that way. As runners and triathletes, we can get so hung up on our goals that any impediment or barrier we face can derail our spirit completely. Instead, we should embrace the new circumstance and develop a solution that keeps us moving forward. There is a lesson for me in Chester's response to his new circumstance, and I am trying hard to internalize it. I think we would all be better if we could channel some of Chester's energy right now; keep moving forward and fighting, in spite of the challenges presented.

Chester investigating my new ankle brace/boot

Hang On

A couple of weekends ago, I broke through a running ceiling that had been hovering over my head for years: breaking 8 minutes per mile in a half marathon. I ran a 7:57 pace overall and a personal best by 4 ½ minutes. It felt great. Well, after the race it felt great, during, not so much. This race was more of a test of my mental stamina than it was of my physical abilities. I have run 8 minute miles over and over again in training. It is a pace I can absolutely sustain, and can go faster over shorter distances. But the half marathon distance has always been a block. It is the race distance I have completed the most and I know the distance well. Yet, despite practice, knowledge, and desire, I have always ended up on the wrong side of 8 minutes for every half marathon.

Two years ago, when I ran the same half, I managed an 8:19 pace (still a PB at the time). I could’ve gone faster physically but I didn’t believe I could – a culmination of injury memory and self-doubt. My inner dialogue was a back and forth of “I can”/”I can’t,” a tug of war between two arguing siblings. In disagreements, the loudest and/or most persistent voice often wins out. I distinctly remember early on in that race, saying to myself: “I can’t sustain this pace.” My 8:19 average was perhaps a self-fulfilling prophecy.

At this most recent race, I arrived resolved. At the start line, I noted the pacer for a 1:45 half marathon and stuck closely by until the last three miles. The sibling rivalry between “I can” and “I can’t” was still present, knocking on the door, the “I can’t” vying for my undivided attention. I am stronger than I was two years ago and I knew I could’ve run faster two years ago. My mind worked harder than my legs in this race. The miles ticked by, and with them, a 10 mile PR (sub 80 minutes!) and the realization I might actually achieve my goal. With 5k to go, I stepped up the pace. The last mile was hard. It undulates comparative to the rest of the race, meaning you really have to dig deeply to get through it. There was another woman, who had also stuck diligently to the 1:45 pace group leader for 10 miles. In the last mile, she pulled slightly ahead of me but waved me forward to join her side by side. “Come on” she said, “you can do it.” At that point, I didn’t think I could do it, my resolve was crumbling. The “I can’t” was beginning to take over as the stress began to increase. I tried really hard to shut the negative messages out by repeating “you can do it, you can do it” over and over and over to myself, focusing on her encouragement and on my coach’s advice to just “hang on.” My last mile ended up being a 7:33 (my fastest mile) and the oh-so-important “point one,” was a 6:30 average. I crossed the line in 1:44:29, a massive PR and with one smashed 8 minute ceiling.

What holds us back is often the stories we tell ourselves or that our culture and environment teach us. Finding ways to push back against those narratives, and write new ones for ourselves, is central to overcoming barriers in your training (or work, life, etc.) that can habitually stall you. Some people are great at this, others less so. I think I fit into the latter category but continue to try – this most recent “win” has certainly helped. As I prepare for my “A” race this September, my fourth half-iron distance triathlon, I have to remember this as I start my run. We get to write our own stories in these moments. We get to “hang on” if we choose to do so.

Bike to Work Day Blues

The topic of this blog post was decided Wednesday morning on Colorado's "Bike to Work Day" when a fellow rider careened into me after trying to pass a pedestrian on a blind corner.

I support people cycling. I want people to get outside, particularly in this beautiful state, instead of sitting indoors, or sitting in a car sipping on soda. Finding ways to engage in activity that works for you is important not only for your health but also for your soul. Up until this Wednesday, I was a massive supporter of Colorado's annual Bike to Work day. It's fun, there are lots of folks out and about, local bike shops set up aid stations with food and drink so you can stop along the way and grab breakfast and meet new people. It's so much fun, until it isn't.

Wednesday was not fun for me. It was downright painful. At the time I was pretty calm, probably from the shock of being hit and bleeding from the head, but now I am finding I am actually pretty angry. I am angry less because the other rider should not have tried to pass a pedestrian as he came down the slope and around the corner into the underpass, but more because he never once said he was sorry. He hung around a little after calling his wife to come get him, and mumbled some concern for me and my head but never acknowledged that it was his fault or that he should have been paying more attention.

I still find myself wanting to afford him some benefit of the doubt: he was shaken up, he had injured his hand, he wasn't thinking straight. All very possible and natural reactions to an accident. Yet, even with all that, was it that hard for him to sputter out an apology? I even gave him a band aid from my back pack. He left, before the paramedics got to me, and went with his wife to an ER. I am saddened by the complete lack of responsibility exhibited by him. Numerous people I have told about what happened, as I inevitably have to do once they see my black, blue, red and purple eye, repeat the refrain: "Bike to work day is the last day you should bike to work." Even the triage nurse asked upon my arrival at the ER "Bike to work day?" with a small chuckle. The running joke is that most of the bikers who participate in bike to work day have not ridden since the previous one and so the day is best avoided. It is perplexing to me that something that was intended to motivate folks to find alternate ways to get to work that do not put a strain on the environment and help you get healthier in the process, has such a negative reputation among cyclists and medical professionals.

I won't be biking to work for a little while until I heal and I definitely won't be biking on Bike to Work Day 2017. I know this is one incident, and this one accident causer's response may not be representative of everyone who causes an accident. I know that this shouldn't deter me from engaging in the event but it has. It has changed how I view it and has been very difficult to manage.

I stick to bike paths because I believe(d) them to be safer. I always call out "on your left" when I am passing someone and try to be a considerate and thoughtful bike commuter when I do it. But much like driving, I clearly cannot assume that everyone else has that same perspective. I therefore now see Bike to Work Day as dangerous. Encouraging that many inexperienced or aggressive cyclists out on the bike paths and roads at the same time without any real oversight is problematic. My accident was obviously not the first that occurred on this day, nor will it be the last, and there is zero accountability for the person who caused my injuries. Clearly the day has a less than rosy reputation among many and now I see why.

The other compounding piece of this worth noting, is that many of the bike paths are poorly maintained, narrow, and leave little room, if any, for cyclists to maneuver out of the way of those inexperienced or aggressive riders. The Bear Creek Trail, where my accident happened, is one such bike path. It runs all the way to Morrison, but many sections of it are extremely narrow, with broken concrete, bumps and pot holes, sharp 90 degree turns and low visibility for passing. I think you can tell which city or district you are in by how much money they have invested in maintaining the bike path. Some parts of it are wonderful, other parts, not so much.

Fixing these issues is possible and that will have a real impact on people's safety cycling to work. However, the root of my anger over this whole accident is the person's attitude. How do you fix an unapologetic accident causer and hold people accountable for their actions when there is no oversight? A cheery message about the virtues of Bike to Work Day and a free t-shirt do not erase the problems of encouraging 10 times the number of people on bike paths (and roads--don't even get me started on that) ill equipped to safely transport one cyclist.

I didn't get a t-shirt or an apology. Just a black eye, 4 stitches, a bruised leg, and a huge medical bill.

The 5am Project

Since my last blog post about the need and desire to run in the morning, I have had moderate success. It's been a little under 4 weeks and I have been working at getting up at 5am or thereabouts so that I can get all my workouts done before the work day (or really, the heat right now) drags me down. My partner, whose idea the 5am Project was, has had less success. He downloaded an alarm app that is supposed to ease him to wake up but it didn't really work that well. He just generally sleeps through it.

Our attempts are also impacted by our senior dog who nearly always needs to go outside in the middle of the night. He stands by the door and whimpers, the kind of pathetic whimper that breaks your heart. I have never been able to sleep through it. My other dog, rarely needs to pee at night but will of course get up and bounce around outside while our other dog does his business. Continuously broken sleep is not conducive to early morning exercise plans. Nor are Mondays. Early on in this process, I found myself falling asleep at work. This, was of course not the intended outcome of this plan. The blame for my daytime tiredness does not rest solely at the feet of the 5am Project. It is compounded by not having a window, fresh air, or a standing desk in my new office. All things I was used to in my previous job. I had no idea that not having those elements in the workplace would have such an impact on my energy levels. I have seen a noticeable decline in my energy levels throughout the day. Combined with the earlier than usual mornings, midday nap time began knocking loudly on my door.

However, I have persevered with my plan. Last week, as the temperatures rose, I was deeply thankful I pushed through the snooze button and got my runs done early. I completed one after an open water swim and the other two I forced myself to get up, stay up, and go out. I still have not figured out a way to get up and run immediately, and take about 60 minutes acclimation time before heading out the door. But, I am heading out the door and in the right direction. It feels good to be done for the day before 9am; I feel so accomplished. I knew I would and this is one of the primary reasons coaches and runners alike argue athletes should workout in the morning.

I don't have any profound wisdom to share from this journey so far, other than to say it has been hard. When I know I am going to get up early, I stress about getting to bed earlier, and then have trouble falling asleep, my desire to hear my alarm clock infiltrates my dreams as anxiety. I infrequently sleep through an alarm, so there is rationally no reason to think I would start to do so now, yet the fear is there and I let it win sometimes. When it wins, my nights are fragmented dream/wake states that leave me feeling groggy and un-rested when the sun comes up. I know, or at least hope, I will find my rhythm and over time will adjust. I encourage you to try this too. I know it can be done by folks who have kids and folks who do not. I have read enough success stories to know that people with wide and varying commitments can pull this off. It is just a case of being thoughtful and efficient with the time you have and making choices that support the lifestyle change. Alarms, dogs, heat and any number of things can derail your plans. They may even appear to be conspiring against you, as though your inner night owl is throwing road block after road block your way in defiance of your new early night, early to rise routine. The key is not to let the set backs derail all plans, present and future. One poor night's sleep should not lead us each to the conclusion that morning running or exercise isn't worth the effort. When faced with a 6am 60 degree run vs a 6pm 90 degree run, I think the choice is pretty clear.

As If...

I just read an article in The Guardian about the need for us to stop looking for ourselves. Specifically, that we should spend less time trying to find ourselves and more time aiming to behave and engage with the "as if." The article argued that our incessant need to find ourselves is ultimately self-centered and simply keeps us stuck in one place. If we try to find ourselves, what we may find is ultimately fleeting, intermittent, and "real" only inasmuch as the self we find exists in that moment. There are so many products marketed around this need for us to find ourselves - retreats, books, meditation sessions - that it is easy to fall into step with the rhetoric. I need to know who I am, and there is always someone ready to charge me to assist me on my journey.

Capitalism and financial exploitation of our lost selves aside, I found The Guardian article thought provoking. The "as if" trajectory the authors discussed is intriguing. Basically, as I understood it, we should work to look forward, versus within, and engage with the world through an "as if I were ______" mentality or ritual. This perspective helps us transform into perhaps what we would like to be, or perhaps uncovers who we really are without looking internally for it. The example in the article was that of hide and seek with a child. In that game, the adult often pretends to be inept at hiding as a means to make it easy for the child to find them. The adult in this example is behaving as if they are fallible so the child can be triumphant, an experience children rarely have. Both adult and child know it's a game, but "by taking on these roles, you have both broken from your usual patterns." (Puett & Gross-Loh, Stop Trying to Find Yourself, pub'd 5/8/16).

It is in the pretend, in the untruth, that you are able to break any negative patterns you have developed. We can work to change those patterns "as if" things were different in that moment. I don't interpret their argument to mean that we should lie to ourselves daily, or ignore struggles we are having in the moment, but rather, we should not focus on finding ourselves internally as a means to break our negative patterns. We should look beyond ourselves and perform, pretend, behave as if we were something else. In so doing, we open up opportunities for discovery and transformation, for change, that cannot be achieved by looking inward. I really like what they said, drawing on Chinese philosophers some 2000 years ago:

"Consider the self the way that they did: there is no true self and no self you can discover in the abstract by looking within. Such a self would be little more than a snapshot of you at that particular moment in time. We are messy, multifaceted selves who go through life bumping up against other messy, multifaceted selves. Who we are at any given moment develops through our constantly shifting interactions with other people" (Puett & Gross-Loh, Stop Trying to Find Yourself, pub'd 5/8/16).

Judith Butler, a philosopher, feminist, and queer theorist to name just a few, has written extensively on the concept of performativity as it relates to gender. She argues that gender is constantly reinforced through our daily iterations and performances of it. Performativity is not the same as performance. Gender is not something we "put on" or "act" out in the sense of the theater. It is iterative and we all engage daily in rituals and behaviors that create, re-create, and propel the construction of gender forward making it seem or feel natural and "real." It is complicated to say the least. I bring it up because thinking about behaving as if something else were real as a means to break unhealthy or negative patterns reminds me of it. While gender performativity isn't about breaking a pattern, but rather creating and reinforcing one, in the context of engaging in as if rituals (we are happy instead of sad, or calm instead of angry), we can transform ourselves and move into that state of being. The connection I make here is messy and definitely imperfect, but I think it speaks to the fluidity of our identities and reinforces how looking within does not hold all the answers marketers and our social mileu would have us believe. We must overcome the self to be able to move away from any negative conceptions of manifestations of the self. The self then, is performative, and we can re-create it (or the negative patterns that haunt us), through the repetition of as if rituals. By entering "an alternate reality in which we draw on different sides of ourselves...each time we do so we come back slightly changed" (Puett & Gross-Loh, Stop Trying to Find Yourself, pub'd 5/8/16).

To read the full article, visit: http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/may/08/stop-trying-to-find-yourself