Monday, January 29, 2007

Reassessing my luck

Earlier in life I complained bitterly of having bad luck. When the outcome of anything I cared about came down to chance, I always seemed to tip to the losing side. As I got older, I complained less but instead adopted a more fatalistic, resigned attitude.

My belief that the gods of chance hated me has stuck with me and perhaps even increased through my triathlon-related injuries and pains.

The girlfriend has long told me that my bad luck mantra was misguided. Personally, I've always thought that this was just something that any person with extraordinary luck feels obligated to say to someone with continually bad luck.

My life philosophy, however, was turned on its head this weekend when the girlfriend was struck with a comical string of bad luck. It actually doesn't sound that dramatic in the telling, but when you watch someone who's always been the golden child of the universe knock her full glass of wine over, shattering it into a million pieces, one evening and having the handle on her mug of coffee come clear off in her hand, sending her coffee all over her clothes and chair, the next morning, you start to question your black and white assumptions about good and bad.

The girlfriend's recent string of bad luck doesn't mean mine has turned particularly good, but I have uncharacteristicly high hopes.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

A depressing visit to the podiatrist

Last year I suffered from some tendinitis in my right ankle. I went to physical therapy for about four months and managed to control the pain enough to get my workouts in and bust my goal for the New York City triathlon. After that, I stopped running and took some time off, hoping it would finally cure my ailments.

Now that I've been ramping up running again, I can say with authority that the pain in my ankle has not disappeared. In fact, it's spread to my other leg. It hasn't been debilitating, but the first 10 or 15 minutes of every run really suck.

Then, a few weeks ago, my big toe joint on my left foot started giving my grief. On the girlfriend's goading I made a doctor's appointment. I had a feeling my ankle problems were the product of falling arches, but I hadn't a clue what was causing the toe joint issue. The doctor told me to take a Motrin after each meal and referred me to a podiatrist.

The podiatrist x-rayed my foot with the ailing toe joint. He also measured the flexibility of my big toes by pushing them backward which, on my sore toe, hurt like hell. I actually felt like it was going to break. It turns out I had about half the range of motion I should on that toe. He thought I must have jammed it or something, but there also is a structural problem. My feet are bony, is basically my diagnosis. So bony, in fact, that my toe joints are ramming painfully against my shoes with every step, and there's not a thing that's going to change that. Great.

Even better, the ankle/falling arches issue can be resolved with $450 orthotics which my insurance doesn't cover. Awesome.

I didn't make an appointment to get orthotics yet. I might try a cheaper insert first. The girlfriend also did some research about my toe ailment and has prescribed fish oil supplements for me.

Two days after this really depressing visit, I went for a record-breaking 1.5 hr run. It actually felt really great with very little pain. Go figure. For now, I'm going to press on doing two runs a week and seeing if perhaps the elliptical wouldn't be a good substitute for one run a week. After that, maybe I'll just work on popularizing the sport of aquathons!

Fare thee well my Pearl Izumi shorts

As previously discussed, my cycling shorts were getting a little worn around the edges. Still, I pressed on, paying only lip service to a trip to the bike shop for new shorts. After all, shorts aren't cheap. I continued riding each and every ride in the same shorts, washing them with Woolite in the sink after each workout. And such it might have continued but for a tragic accident in the bathroom sink, the site of my short's untimely end.

The tragedy was the result of a home improvement project taking place at the same time. The girlfriend had just coated a few boards with a sealant (to make new shelves for the bathroom) and was soaking the brush in lacquer thinner. Unfortunately, she had chosen a cheap plastic cup as the container for this soaking. Even more unfortunate, she had placed said cup on previously mentioned bathroom sink. Upon returning to the sink to fish out my shorts I found that the lacquer thinner had chemically melted the plastic cup and proceeded to run all over the sink.

My shorts, thus, had been marinating in a chemical hazard for a good 10 or 15 minutes. One sniff of the shorts and I knew, it was too late to save them.

What an anticlimactic way for my shorts to go. It's like a great warrior being stabbed in the back while he's sleeping. I had expected them to bite the dust in some epic fall (an experience I've yet to have, but that's another post), or finally wear a whole after a gnarly century ride.

Rest in peace, my shorts. Thank you for protecting my tush and bones for all those thousands of miles. You will be remembered as a steadfast, trusty companion who met your tragic end far too soon.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Pop culture confessions

I have some embarrassing habits which I go to great lengths to either paint in an endearing light or simply hide. The girlfriend, I can assure you, is well versed in all of them by now. Only she could tell you, for instance, how often I have watched Bend it Like Beckham while riding my bike on the trainer.

It's cold(ish) and dark out during most of the hours I can ride now. This weekend, it would be warm enough to do my 4.5 hrs of required riding outside, except that it's raining and forecasted to continue raining the entire time. That means most of my logged biking time is on the trainer.

Whenever possible I watch something new from Netflix as I ride. We get no TV reception, so actual programming is out of the question. Ultimately, I end up relying on our DVD collection for entertainment during most of my rides. I'd say one out of every five rides or so I watch Bend it Like Beckham. Since I have enough time to watch about 2 or 3 movies this weekend - it's almost a guarantee that it's going to be part of my weekend.

I confess: I am addicted to a pop-ish movie about girl athletes set to undeniably poppy music.

Just wait till I tell you what's on my running mix. As a preview, can I just say, George Michael ROCKS!!

Monday, January 08, 2007

This woman CAN run

I ran across this article while at work for reasons completely unrelated to running or triathlon. While it makes little sense that compact fluorescent bulbs led me here, I don't feel the need to justify this tenuous connection, except to say, the world wide web is weird sometimes.

Should you have no desire to read this article, let me sum it up for you: unless you look like a man, women, you shouldn't be running.

Thanks Michael Boyle, this is just the genius analysis I've been looking for -- a position that none of my physicians, physical therapists or friends in those professions has agreed with. Because what's a PhD when you have conviction and a paying speaking gig?

One of the elements in this article that really antagonizes me is his highly dismissive, sexist manner of addressing this issue. For example,
You can't run to get that cute little runner's body. It's actually reversed. You have to have that cute little runner's body to survive running.
Right. The only reason women run is to get that "cute little runner's body". None of us like our breasts or hips. We all want them gone!

And further,
The bottom line: Running is not good for most females. If you want higher-intensity exercise, ride a stationary bike. Take a spin class, use a stairclimber, and don't run.
Oh, a stationary bike! Can I? Can I please?! I just love the bike that doesn't go anywhere.

Putting my sarcasm aside for a minute, when I was suffering from some knee pain in my first year of triathloning, it was actually caused by cycling, NOT running. But I suppose since that was outdoor cycling, rather than the safe little stationary bike, Mike is still right.

My advice to the ladies with curves? If you want to run, friggin' go running. If you're in pain, go see a doctor. Whatever you do, don't take advice from columnists with no medical cred.