As I think about the races of 2012 so far I can't help but feel like I'm battling against myself...bronchitis, banged up knee, what next? Well, why ask....the next race on my schedule was the Hatfield and McCoy race in West Virginia. And, though I was healthy and ready for the race, the Wednesday prior in my hurry to get out the door and to my meetings I gathered my stuff, sent Garret to get his stuff and headed for the car. A bit of insight...I don't wear shoes in the house (honestly I don't wear shoes unless I'm ABSOLUTELY have to - work, running, going out). This particular day was high-vis meetings as work so I had on a suit and my heels where by the basement door which leads to the garage, but I was wearing my nylons. I was getting back into training mode and following a strict meal plan and therefore had a cooler bag over my arm, my work bag (paperwork, files, etc) over the other arm, and my laptop over the shoulder. I'd CRUSHED an amazing workout that morning and finished up with a serious ab session just before my shower and was famished so I had my steel cut oatmeal in my left hand. I hit the first step and my feet were gone. As soon as I started slipping I tried to tighten my core to stablize but I'd given everything I had to the workout...I did the rag doll fall the entire way down the flight of stairs unable to stop anything. When I finally crashed down I realize ALL of my stuff was scattered around with the exception of the oatmeal...somehow I'd managed to not spill a bit of it even though the bags I was carrying around my wrist had flown off and their contents laid scattered in the floor. Usually not one to whine, I laid there in too much pain to think about what actually hurt. I finally gathered myself up, unable to use my right arm, carried my stuff to the car with my left arm, slipped on a pair of shoes, and shuffled Garret to the neighbor's. I called my boss and told him I'd be late for the meetings and drove myself to the ER with tears in my eyes and biting my top lip furiously (a fact I discovered that day...I apparently bite my top lip when I'm in severe pain).
The next few hours merely confirmed why I never go to the ER...after triage and x-rays the doctor finally saw me and told me I was just sore because the bone fragment from the previous fracture was pressed into the soft tissue...when I informed him I'd never fractured that elbow he told me to give it a couple of weeks and let him know if it still was bothering me. I explained that I was in an extreme amount of pain and asked if I should just ice it and take ibuprofen and he informed me that I didn't need anything but ice. I'm not a whimp...I've actually had my thumb sewn back on without being numbed...so the fact that I was telling him I was in severe pain spoke volumes. Regardless, he refused to listen. The best I got was him finally saying if it hurt later to go to the orthopedist. I looked him dead in the eye and called my orthopedist in front of him and set an appointment for that afternoon. He was unphased but I felt better after making the point - mentally at least, still hurt like crazy. He had the nurse throw it in a sling (which hurt worse than anything so far)
and discharged me.
I grabbed my xrays and headed to my meeting. As soon as my portion was over I headed to my orthopedist. In a cruel irony, it was time to update my chart. Did I mention I'm right handed? The chicken scratch they got from my left hand was all but illegible, but I did my best. The orthopedist confirmed I'd severly sprained and chipped the elbow and ordered no gym or running for a week, wrote a script for 800mg ibuprofen and a script for pain pills, then ordered a follow up the next week. I typically don't take meds, but it hurt horrible, so I took a pain pill that night (though the prescribed dose was two) and passed out. Thursday I was still in horrific pain so I took another around noon. Thursday evening I felt pretty good and decided there was absolutely NO reason why I couldn't run. I'd hurt my arm, not my leg. I realized I wouldn't have much of an arm pump, but I was ready to deal with that and the pain. I decided to do four miles of rolling hills. I parked in my usually place to do a double loop of a 2 mile loop and set off from the car. I'd left the sling off as I figured I would not want to fall and not be able to catch myself plus I didn't want to throw my form off that badly and injure myself worse. What followed can only be described as the worst run of my life. I only managed 2.25 miles before giving up and going back to the car and I walked three times in that little bit. My heart and lungs felt strong but I had absolutely NO arm pump. My arm was killing me. And without the arm pump my legs were like lead. I literally felt like my feet were flapping on the ground like clown shoes. It was horrible beyond belief. I was incredibly angry with myself. When I arrived home Judd asked what was wrong and as I was firing off in anger towards my body's lack of performance he looked at me rather blankly and stated the obvious..."Mom, you took a serious pain pill just a few hours ago...that's not out of your body yet." I heard it, but I didn't care...my body had failed me. I headed upstairs and punished myself with an ice bath hoping to rejuvenate my legs...I had a 1/2 in 2 days that I had been looking forward to for a year and now this one was in danger too.
As much as I detest an ice bath that's no arguing their effectiveness and my legs felt much better afterwards. I also decided there would be no more pain pills, regardless of how much the arm hurt. I iced the elbow when necessary and tried to work out any other potential pit falls. I headed to work Friday morning and left early enough to hit the therapist before hitting the road for West Virginia. There I received ultrasound, light therapy, electro-stim, an herbal treatment, soft tissue therapy, and was kinesio taped...that was all that could be done to help.
So I headed off to the race to make the best of it. I'd been following a very strict meal plan for nearly two weeks and I knew it was protein heavy for muscle building but would not support an endurance event with it's minimal carbs but I'd been ignoring that fact until the Thursday run. There was no denying the lack of energy during that fiasco, so I opted to have a more balance dinner, blow the meal plan, and be fueled for the race. Every little bit helps.
My hotel was actually in Kentucky, about half an hour past the start line. And true to form, my GPS decided it would be fun to be a mountain goat and took me the most ridiculous route possible. I finally rolled in around midnight and crashed hard. I'd already decided I would not be coming back to the hotel...no need to drive an extra 1/2 hour back to shower and then add the half hour to my return home as well, so I checked out, downed my steel cut oats, and headed to the start line. I picked up my packet, ducked into the grocery store at the start line for a last minute potty break, and came back out to wait. The only course map was at the startline and looked more like a cartoon, but was neat.
I'd really meant to watch the History Channel special on the Hatfields and McCoy's prior to the race but had been out of town so I hadn't gotten to. I'd read a little bit of history, but I was about to run it. One of the key points about the race is that participants are divided into Hatfields and McCoys. If you are a Hatfield or McCoy via bloodline you go with your actual lineage, everyone else is randomly assigned. I was a Hatfield. At the end of the race the team with the best overall time "wins".
At the startline there were actual Hatfield and McCoy desendants posing for pictures with runners and although their beards looked fake, upon closer inspection, they were not...
Because this race can be counted as either Kentucky or West Virginia (starts in one and ends in the other), there were a lot of Half Fantanics, Marathon Maniacs, and 50 staters in attendance.
And yes....that is really the start line...that's it...that tiny. No corrals, just that little banner in the grocery store parking lot. This race brings new meaning to the term small town race!
Shortly after the picture we were off. It was a bit chilly at the start so I wore my race shirt. My arm wasn't in pain but it was tender so I tried to take it easy. I felt pretty good all things considered though. I hadn't gone far when I heated up and lost the shirt (typically, even in a COLD race, this happens within the first mile for me).
As I ran along I wondered about the course, the history, the weather, the elbow...my mind was going 100mph. I finally focused in on the conversation between two older gentlemen behind me and let that be my distraction. I heard conversations about proper vs. improper gym etiquette, personal trainers, proper gym attire, and all sorts of random stuff as I knocked out the miles. Around mile 4 I gained a running buddy...I don't know where he came from, but I was suddenly adopted by a black lab.
He kept pace with me nicely and only ran in front of me a couple of times (nearly tripping me). He stayed by myself for nearly 5 miles and then he was gone as quickly as he'd joined me. I hope he found his way home eventually!
The course itself did not offer a lot of crowd support, but it really didn't need it. There were a few people here and there out and watching/cheering and water stations were properly manned. Overall it just felt like a nice smalltown race without all of the hoopla. There were a few little hills here and there but nothing major with the exception of one good climb lasting about 2 miles. Even that wasn't a killer climb though. There were definitely quite a few characters along the course, including a "moon shine" stop (water) manned by country folk.
As we slugged along I made a point of reading the signs and paying attention to the historical points. We truly did run directly through the Hatfield and McCoy fued.
As we wound through the course the scenery was beautiful, the water stops were plenty, and the elbow was ok...so I kept running...and listening to the two old guys chat behind me, they seemed to keep pace with me fairly closely and by now I'd determined they were doing the full and their conversation had moved on to politics and the economy and was quite entertaining. By the time we rounded the final corner of the half I was almost sad that I wouldn't be continuing with them and hearing the next 13.1 miles, but not sad enough to tackle my first full today!
The guys chatting are the Marine on the left and the guy in green with an orange hat on the right.
Very fatigued I pushed through the last little bit of the race and finished in 2:12:01...MUCH better than anticipated given the elbow injury...with no elbow pain at all.
Finish line fare for the half was not all that...I didn't even see the finisher's medals and had to go back to scout them out (but they were neat) and while there were water bottles and gatorade, snacks consisted of watermelon slices (which I opted for), orange slices, and banana chunks. This is likely due to the after party at the end of the full (there were buses to take 1/2 participants there) where there was a pig roast, but I didn't stay for the afterparty as I had an 8 hour drive home. I drove to the nearest convenience store, parked along the side out of the way, and took a quick "shower" with my water bottle, then changed, and hit the road for home. Overall it was a neat race and a very nice course. I have a "1st choice" race picked for Kentucky but scheduling hasn't worked out for the last few years. I'd still like to run that race for Kentucky, but wouldn't be opposed to running this one again either for my KY race or as a repeat.
Currently I'm considering a race in Boise, Idaho in July but my next register race isn't until Denver in late September. Hopefully I'll be able to get healthy and stay that way before whichever race is next!!
