DNR - injured
The deep thigh bruise I got yesterday is still limiting my range of motion in my left leg, so I'm taking the day off to let this thing heal ASAP. I can walk, but I can't lift my knee without sharp pain in my quad, which is still puffy and swollen.
What I'm reading is that this could take from a week to a month to recover from this, so I'm going to do everything I can to stay proactive. It's a tough pill to swallow to think that I may have really screwed myself yesterday. I'm trying to be patient given that it's only been 24 hours.
6.30.2013
6.29.2013
June 29 - Double Dipsea
AM: Double Dipsea trail race, ~8 miles, DNF
I suffered my first DNF today. Nothing about it feels great as of this writing, but I'll explain what happened.
In an effort to get in a solid, hilly long run, I decided to go up to Marin to run the Double Dipsea with Varner and Reed: a trail the three of us have run many times since together since the three of us moved to California last year.
The Double Dipsea, like the "single Dipsea" trail race, is age-handicapped, meaning that the older people get as much as an hour head start, dropping down in age and gender groups until the 39-and-under men take off last. Obviously, that means that runners of different abilities are doing a lot of passing in narrow, sometimes single-track sections. Now, I'll say that I've never been a huge fan of the idea of age handicap races, but I was trying to stay open minded, and I knew that this was part of the job hazard when signing up for the race.
About three miles into the race, I was feeling surprisingly good. Reed and I made a mutual pact to start conservatively and were reeling in guys from our starting group because of our patience early on. The heat wasn't getting to me yet, and I was passing a ton of people on both the uphills and downhills.
While skirting past some other runners on a narrow section of flat trail, a tree stump that was jutting out from the earth, right at thigh level, completely blindsided me just as I was surging through a congested area. It felt like getting hit with a baseball bat in the soft spot of my thigh, and I went down pretty damn hard: harder than any other fall I've had running, and I've fallen a lot. I took a handful of other guys with me, but fortunately no one else seemed to get hurt despite the narrow area.
When I got back up to my feet, a quick self assessment showed that despite an immediately swollen and bruised left thigh, I didn't break my femur, which legitimately was my initial concern based on my pain level. The bad news was that I couldn't really lift my left leg beyond a walk and I was still in total agony. Reed caught up with me, and after about 30 seconds of futile limp-jogging, it was obvious that my day was over. After about a frustrated mile of hobbling to the next aid station where I went through all of the various stages of grief, I swallowed my pride and took my first DNF in my 28 years. I assumed a DNF would happen to me at some point just based on the law of large numbers, but it still doesn't feel very good. I waited for about an hour for Valerie to come get me near Muir Woods, which gave me time to ice my throbbing leg and reflect on my abbreviated day.
As of this writing the afternoon after the morning's race, I still can't run. Given that I think it's just a bad bruise, my hope is that I'll be back to running in the next few days. The best case scenario is that I can get in a long run tomorrow. The worst case scenario is that I have a bone bruise or something worse, and I could be looking at an extended layoff. My guess is that it will be something in between. I historically have been fortunate in that I rarely get the usual maladies that sideline a lot of runners, so to have something acutely take me out of action is a little new for me.
I've fallen in races and runs plenty of times, but I've never not been able to brush myself off and push forward. I won't apologize for racing aggressively in a trail race because I think the risk of falling is just part of the sport, and you have to park your fears while still using common sense. However, clearly if I would have held back a little bit and waited to pass people, I probably could have avoided disaster but given up any ground I'd gained on the guys in my group. That's frustrating.
I will regroup. I will heal. I will run and race again. I'll even (probably) run the Double Dipsea again next year. But for now, I unfortunately have a busted up leg, an assortment of other bruises and battle scars all over me, and I don't know how long I'll be out of running. What happened today was an a bit of a freak running injury, so it's hard for me to assess that. Let's hope it's not too long.
I suffered my first DNF today. Nothing about it feels great as of this writing, but I'll explain what happened.
In an effort to get in a solid, hilly long run, I decided to go up to Marin to run the Double Dipsea with Varner and Reed: a trail the three of us have run many times since together since the three of us moved to California last year.
The Double Dipsea, like the "single Dipsea" trail race, is age-handicapped, meaning that the older people get as much as an hour head start, dropping down in age and gender groups until the 39-and-under men take off last. Obviously, that means that runners of different abilities are doing a lot of passing in narrow, sometimes single-track sections. Now, I'll say that I've never been a huge fan of the idea of age handicap races, but I was trying to stay open minded, and I knew that this was part of the job hazard when signing up for the race.
About three miles into the race, I was feeling surprisingly good. Reed and I made a mutual pact to start conservatively and were reeling in guys from our starting group because of our patience early on. The heat wasn't getting to me yet, and I was passing a ton of people on both the uphills and downhills.
While skirting past some other runners on a narrow section of flat trail, a tree stump that was jutting out from the earth, right at thigh level, completely blindsided me just as I was surging through a congested area. It felt like getting hit with a baseball bat in the soft spot of my thigh, and I went down pretty damn hard: harder than any other fall I've had running, and I've fallen a lot. I took a handful of other guys with me, but fortunately no one else seemed to get hurt despite the narrow area.
When I got back up to my feet, a quick self assessment showed that despite an immediately swollen and bruised left thigh, I didn't break my femur, which legitimately was my initial concern based on my pain level. The bad news was that I couldn't really lift my left leg beyond a walk and I was still in total agony. Reed caught up with me, and after about 30 seconds of futile limp-jogging, it was obvious that my day was over. After about a frustrated mile of hobbling to the next aid station where I went through all of the various stages of grief, I swallowed my pride and took my first DNF in my 28 years. I assumed a DNF would happen to me at some point just based on the law of large numbers, but it still doesn't feel very good. I waited for about an hour for Valerie to come get me near Muir Woods, which gave me time to ice my throbbing leg and reflect on my abbreviated day.
As of this writing the afternoon after the morning's race, I still can't run. Given that I think it's just a bad bruise, my hope is that I'll be back to running in the next few days. The best case scenario is that I can get in a long run tomorrow. The worst case scenario is that I have a bone bruise or something worse, and I could be looking at an extended layoff. My guess is that it will be something in between. I historically have been fortunate in that I rarely get the usual maladies that sideline a lot of runners, so to have something acutely take me out of action is a little new for me.
I've fallen in races and runs plenty of times, but I've never not been able to brush myself off and push forward. I won't apologize for racing aggressively in a trail race because I think the risk of falling is just part of the sport, and you have to park your fears while still using common sense. However, clearly if I would have held back a little bit and waited to pass people, I probably could have avoided disaster but given up any ground I'd gained on the guys in my group. That's frustrating.
I will regroup. I will heal. I will run and race again. I'll even (probably) run the Double Dipsea again next year. But for now, I unfortunately have a busted up leg, an assortment of other bruises and battle scars all over me, and I don't know how long I'll be out of running. What happened today was an a bit of a freak running injury, so it's hard for me to assess that. Let's hope it's not too long.
6.28.2013
June 28
AM: 10 miles w/ 6+ @ MP
Facebook had a 5k/10k this morning. Since I'll never be the fastest guy on Facebook, I'll have to settle for being the fastest guy at Facebook. I pressed ahead after about a half mile; nobody went with me, leaving me on my own in the 10k. The course was a little short, but I ended up running right around my goal marathon pace (5:40), which was the goal. I'm doing a tough trail race tomorrow, so I wanted to do just enough to win today but also run slightly uptempo. I feel like I did a good job of keeping myself in check. It was also brutally hot (~85 degrees) for the Bay Area this time of year.
Facebook had a 5k/10k this morning. Since I'll never be the fastest guy on Facebook, I'll have to settle for being the fastest guy at Facebook. I pressed ahead after about a half mile; nobody went with me, leaving me on my own in the 10k. The course was a little short, but I ended up running right around my goal marathon pace (5:40), which was the goal. I'm doing a tough trail race tomorrow, so I wanted to do just enough to win today but also run slightly uptempo. I feel like I did a good job of keeping myself in check. It was also brutally hot (~85 degrees) for the Bay Area this time of year.
June 27
AM: 10 miles easy
PM: 6 miles easy
I felt a little sluggish in the morning around Shoreline, but I felt light and springy on a warm run around Bayview in the evening from work.
PM: 6 miles easy
I felt a little sluggish in the morning around Shoreline, but I felt light and springy on a warm run around Bayview in the evening from work.
June 26
AM: 9 miles easy
PM: 6 miles easy
Generally tired on both my morning (Atherton) and evening (Bayview) runs from work.
PM: 6 miles easy
Generally tired on both my morning (Atherton) and evening (Bayview) runs from work.
June 25
PM: 13 miles moderate
I met the NBSV crew for a run around Stanford after work. After taking the first few miles easy, Billy, Dale, and I picked up the pace for a little while, dipping down to 5:45 at one point but generally hitting low 6:00s. This wasn't quite as quick as last week. We used the last mile as a barefoot cooldown around the infield.
I met the NBSV crew for a run around Stanford after work. After taking the first few miles easy, Billy, Dale, and I picked up the pace for a little while, dipping down to 5:45 at one point but generally hitting low 6:00s. This wasn't quite as quick as last week. We used the last mile as a barefoot cooldown around the infield.
June 24
PM: 8 miles easy
We flew back from Atlanta in the morning, so I got in a run after work through Atherton.
We flew back from Atlanta in the morning, so I got in a run after work through Atherton.
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