Stronger in the legs, not so much in the head

I have been a very bad post-er as of late! Thanks for holding the bag, Amanda, so to speak.  Last weekend was Princeton Reunions, so I was determined to get in a solid ride and run before I headed down to the Jerz for a weekend of friends and memories and general debauchery.

It was also hotter than blazes in NYC for a few days, and so my 48 mile ride in Central park (8 loops....BORING) was quite difficult as it was my first ride in the heat and even though I pounded two bottles of water, not bringing a drink mix (I like Accelerade) was a mistake, as I was definitely woozy at the end .  But it was mentally toughening to keep going through the same loop over and over again, and I felt very nice on my 9 milers the next day before the games began.

I tried to be a good girl and acknowledge that I "can't hack it like I use to" and came back to the city late Saturday night, but the temperature dropped the next few days with the tropical storm (and the buckets of rain that came with) and so did my immune system, and I was sick as a dog for a few days and did literally nothing except fall behind on training and on work.

But I finally kicked whatever it was, and after a mini run to get the blood moving and a 1.5 straight swim (it was supposed to be open water, but there is no way that can happen so long as I'm in NYC...will just have to wait for the beach or Michigania in the coming weeks), I felt good and ready to tackle a 90 (yes, NINETY) mile ride to Bear Mountain with some old swimming buddies Warren, Andy, Steve and his brother, Andrew, and their other fried Jonathan.

Well, after feeling pretty pleased with myself for navigating up from the New York Athletic Club through the city and over the GW bridge with no incidents All By Myself, I stop at Strictly Bicycles in Fort Lee, NJ, to meet up with the rest of the gang and realize that I SOMEHOW HAVE LEFT THE ZIPPERED POCKED IT MY JERSEY OPEN.  That's right.  The pocket where I keep my cash, my ID, and credit cards.  FUCK! Only my drivers license managed to stay in.  The rest was scattered somewhere in the city or over the Hudson.

So after cancelling the cards and just chalking up the cash to be my panhandling quota for the next 2 years, I hit 9W with the boys and immediate realize they are WAY to fast for me.  I insist they ditch me, and I have a nice, strong-feeling solo ride out to Nyack and the Runcible Spoon, with one stop past Piermont to confirm that yes, my Visa was indeed canceleed, and yes, I am the biggest idiot whose ever called you.

I diddle at Runcible and wait for Warren to rejoin me after he turns around after a few more miles from the other guys, who are going to tackle the Bear summit.  I just had to acknowledge that 90 miles AND intense climbs are just not at my fitness level right now, and certainly not with those guys!  And I had a little flat along the way for spice, but thankfully managed to change it without too many screams.

Warren and I head back, and then after a strong ride (for me) back, including the two climbs just after leaving Piermont that I find hard because the way the road layout is with stops, you can't build up much speed (or any) in to them, I feel victorious that I've made it back and to the bridge.  And then, WHAM.  Somehow I eat it right before getting on the bridge ramp (I think I nicked the edge of the cone without realizing it), and my dear sweet Warren, who has now witnessed a day of epic stupid luck for me, hangs with me while I get my bearings again, and still a bit shakey and bruised from the fall, slooowly cruise/walk the tricky turns down the GW bridge, back in to our fair city.

Thankfully it was fairly uneventful back, although I could feel the bruises in my left hip and side knee as well as my sore hands (thank GOODNESS I had gloves on), and while I may have lost a good bit of dignity and can't allow my self any financial treats of any kind for the next week (both as punishment for loosing the cash, and the fact that I don't have any cards), I actually feel pretty good for getting another Nyack ride under my belt (only my 2nd), and will just keep being as diligent as I can with them over the summer, slowly adding in miles past Nyack and also runs in once I get back to Manhattan.  Plus, last time, the back of my neck KILLED from riding in aero, but now it is no problem! Depending on how the bruises and feel, will be up for a nice, long lope in Brooklyn tomorrow!

Feet are our friends! My transition to minimal shoes.

I think our poor feet are our most abused body parts, even if you're not doing copious amounts of running.  We stuff it in shoes, mash them in high heels, polish and pedicure then to an outward sheen, despite how the inside of those tootsie may feel.  We pound any on them day after day after day, and yet most people think feet are gross and smelly.  Hygenie aside, the human foot is actually pretty amazing.  If there is anyone out there that somehow hasn't read or heard of the incredible book Born To Run by Christopher McDougal, I'll sum up his argument in that regard: our feet are natural weight-bearers.  Miraculous weight-bearers, even, utilizing one of the most perfect weight-bearing structures, the arch, to it's advantage.  The foot is springy and sensitive and actually grows stronger the more of a beating it takes.

What has happened to our feet in recent decades is that they have become weak.  They are weakened because shoes have started to do most of the supporting, denying the muscles and tendons a chance to strengthen themselves and adjust to protect our more fragile joints, like knees, from absorbing the shock of our bodies against the pavement when we run.  When McDougal watches the Tarahumara, the elite tribe of ultra-runners down in Mexico's Copper Canyons, the one thing he notices (besides the fact that they can run hundreds of miles at insanely fast speeds without ever getting injured), is HOW they run: with a soft, mid/fore-foot strike, one that we regular folks also run with whenever we are in bare feet.

I won't purport to know all the nuanced arguments raging out there in the running community about shoes vs. barefoot running, minimalist shoes vs. stability trainers, heel strike vs. mid-foot.  The number one person who has any say about your running is you! If it works, great.  If not, there are always new ideas to try.  I've heard that triathletes tend to be very open to new tips, techniques, and training, since triathlon is a very young sport.  Super!  I know I know nothing, I can barely fix a flat tire on my bike, ha, so I'm always ears wide open. 

Case in point: When I was training for my first marathon three years ago, I wore stability shoes (Mizuno) and as I upped my milage, I started to develop some plantar fasciitis, bane of runners all over the world.  And my knee was starting to hurt.  From a life in swimming, I knew that often times when joints hurt, it is because the surrounding muscles are weak.  I know every shoulder-strengthing exercise in the book from my swimming days as a butterfly-er.  And knee exercises were plentiful on the internet.  But how to strengthen my feet?

As luck would have it, I had also picked up a copy of Born to Run at the airport and was riveted by the stories of Caballo Blanco, The Deer, Barefoot Ted, Jenn & Billy and the fascinating Tarahumara.

Seeing as no one seemed to have an answer to fix plantar fasciitis, just mitigate the symptoms, I drank the Kool-Aid about barefoot running and bought a pair of Vibrams.  At worst, I'd be out $90 and still have PF.  But maybe I'd be surprised!

The shoes I wear now, except in green!

And surprised I was! I felt GREAT.  For about a mile.  And then alllllll the tiny muscles in my feet, calves and ankles shouted at me for using after a lifetime of letting them relax.  I was SO SORE for three days, I actually contemplated scooting down the subway stairs on my butt.  But it was only soreness, not pain.

In a few days, I wiggled those toes back in to those vibrams and hit the road again (briefly).  And then just kept building.  I now can't imagine going back, and my PF has disappeared, although my feet still get sore when I up my mileage to anything over 10-12 miles.  I eventually moved from vibrams to Newbalance Minimus shoes so I could wear socks for chilly days and blisters, and so far so good!

I don't pretend this transition is right for everyone.  Amanda still wears the same type of Mizunos she's been loyal to for years.  She says my vibrams creep her out and I don't blame her.  But I'll never ignore my feet ever again! I roll them every day and night on my trusty Theraband roller (a GREAT Christmas present, by the way). I won't deny that I still love my un-sensible shoes for a night out, but always try to take a pair of flats, and once I'm home, the shoes come off! Let those puppies run free in all their glory.