Life Through a TV Screen – PT. 10
Disclaimer: This next chapter will be part personal experience, part physical therapy education based on existing research literature. It is not necessarily universally applicable medical advice, and you should contact your doctor for specific medical advice matching your individual needs.
November 2022
“Every race is a story of two journeys. The first is the journey to the start and then, the second is the race to the finish.”
The first sentence of professional runner Jenny Simpson’s race recap on Instagram from the NYC marathon weekend perhaps best captures the theme of this month: The final merger of my two journeys to make it back to the start line of a race. The first journey was long and grueling. It has been three years since I first got my injury. The Tuesday of Thanksgiving week will mark the 18th week out from surgery. The road back to the start line has been filled with many uncertainties, challenges and frustrations, but as I entered this month, I truly felt like I was going to make it to the start. Below are journal entries from the month as I navigated the last few weeks of my first journey to the start of the Silicon Valley Turkey Trot start line.
November 1
The month opened up on a Tuesday fall morning at the local community track. I intended to run at a hard pace on a track for 2 miles, but had no formal plans beyond that. I went to the track walked a few minutes, and then rolled straight into the run. My legs that morning felt relatively fresh and strong, and I smoothly circled the track. I glanced at my watch, splitting ~ 6:20, 6:21 for the first mile. I was uncomfortable, but still felt very smooth and strong. With each half lap, I cranked up the speed just a tad more, curious about my limits for the day. The number 1 rule was to finish the run healthy of course, but what could I do today? My pace became slowly but surely faster, and by the time the last lap arrived, I was well under 6 minute pace, surging around the track as fast as I could while keeping my running form smooth. I crossed my finish line, the proud owner of a 12:25 time for 3200 meters. I sat on the infield, taking a few minutes to catch my breath as I soaked in the feeling of success from clocking a hard effort without any low back or nerve symptoms. I have now proven to myself that I can run hard on race day.
November 5
The primary goal of this day was to test one thing: My ability to run for 20 minutes continuously. The last time I attempted this was a month ago, just a few days before I flared up my left SI joint. This time however, I was entering the run more rested with less cumulative training volume courtesy of not biking for cross training. On a clear fall morning at Byxbee Park in Palo Alto, I succeeded in maintaining continuous running for over 20 minutes, splitting a few seconds under 21:00 for 5k. My pace this day was much faster than last month, and I did so without any left SI joint symptoms. I have now proven to myself that I can cover a 5k continuously on race day.
November 7
“You are registered! Thank you for supporting our community!”
I looked at my registration email for the 18th Annual Silicon Valley Turkey Trot. My entry was locked in now. The next few days and weeks would now be just icing on the cake, the celebration of the final leg of the first journey to the start line.
November 8
16 weeks post-operative. On a rainy, cool day at the Campbell Community Center track just a short drive away from my house, I grinded out 5 kilometers on the track starting at lactate threshold effort and building in effort as I kept the pace consistent. I finish right around 19:50, knowing that I have a little more in the tank. I have now put together both the ability to grind out a 5k and to do so at a fairly hard effort. Both my previous left SI joint symptoms and right sided low back and nerve pain are absent.
November 15
I returned to the Campbell Community Center track with a new question: Could I execute an interval workout on the track? I sought to find out. I self-designed a ladder of 1000 meter, 800 meter and 600 meter intervals with 1 minute recoveries, each rep at a faster pace than the last. The 600 meter interval was targeted at between 2 mile and 1 mile race effort, and with limited warm up and cooldown, the workout was successful. I now knew that I can execute higher intensity intervals as I started to add the final stages of sharpening the body.
November 17
The last “major” workout: A simulation of opening up the first 2 miles of a 5k in a non-track setting. Based on my accumulated fitness up to this point, I originally thought that I would be able to average somewhere between 6:10 mile pace and 6:20 mile pace at 5k effort. On a dirt 0.7ish mile loop, I rounded the loop 3 times and gradually progressed my intensity and speed. Patience with the early stage of this workout rewarded me with not only just over 2 miles at under 6:00 pace, but completion of the workout feeling like I could sustain the effort and pace for another mile if needed. After this day, I felt like all the pieces were in place to execute in a week’s time.
November 20
I made my way over to my local Sports Basement store for packet pickup. It was my first time in 3 years coming back to this Sports Basement for packet pickup, the site of every packet pickup I have done since my second year running this event in 2014 (the first year in 2013, I made the mistake of picking up the day of, which was very stressful). As I walked through the store to the packet pickup area, it felt nice to have a sense of familiarity return again, a ritual that had been long dormant due to a lack of races on the calendar. It felt nice to go through the motions of preparing to race once again. As I stared at my race bib, I thought about how nice it was to get issued a bib number again.
November 21
The taper had started. One last short workout to spin the legs. I decided on a structure similar to the types of fartleks I had run in college. Nothing too fancy now at this point. Everything between this date and race day was now just window dressing.
Race Day - November 24
6:00 AM – The pre-race ritual begins, a gradual awakening to silence my alarm and consume my favorite pre-race meal: 2 bananas and 2 granola bars. I wandered the house, slowly packing all of my gear together and getting ready for the morning.
6:45 AM – I am about to leave my house to drive over to downtown San Jose. My dad comes out, asking, “Are you about to go to your race? Can I come with you?” I was surprised, as it had been many years since my dad last accompanied me to a Turkey Trot or race of any kind. I accepted graciously of course, feeling like it would be more special to share this race with my dad rather than just going alone. As I start the drive over, the sun was just slowly starting to rise with a golden glow, crisp air and clear skies.
7:40 AM – After parking and waiting for a little bit, I begin my warm-up routine, soaking up the ambiance of the road race environment as I start to go through the final preparations for 5 kilometers on the streets of downtown San Jose
8:25 AM – I finished the final few strides by the race startline. All around me, other runners were getting in their final preparations, drills, stretches, and strides before the start. I smiled to myself, excited at the prospect of testing my fitness for the first time in a long, long time.
8:31 AM – An airhorn went off, signaling the start of the race. I positioned myself near the start, but found myself unfortunately stuck behind middle schoolers and high schoolers who reacted slowly to the airhorn. Chaos ensued as one kid tripped on himself, fell, and collapsed on the ground in front of me, leaving me with mere seconds to react.
Shit, shit, shit shit, shit
I slowed down, jogged around the kid and his mother, and then continued to press on. Up ahead, I saw the leaders were already 50+ meters ahead of me. Mental note to self: pick a better start place next year.
I passed by my dad who was filming the start, smiled and waved at him. I’m here to have fun after all! I focused back up, glancing at my watch for a brief pace check. Loaded on adrenaline, I had gone through the first 400 meters around 5:20 mile pace. Whoops. I slowed down, forcing myself to dial in the pace I had pre-planned, somewhere around 6:00 for the first 1-2 miles. My college coach would always tell my team: “First 2/3 with your head, last 1/3 with your heart.” I had to be patient. I had to bide my time, especially given how little training I had done coming into this race.
I found myself tucked into a small pack with dozens of people in front of me and hundreds more behind me. I relaxed, focusing on a steady cadence and rhythm. As we passed the first mile marker, I glanced at my watch, amused by the hilariously inaccurate placement of the marker being off by over 200 meters. I continued to stay steady until I split 1 mile.
5:52
The first mile was done. 2 miles and change to go. I felt steady, that there were more gears I could access. I started to slowly accelerate little by little, focusing on picking off one person at a time. The cold fall air started to irritate my lungs a little bit but the legs were still maintaining good rhythm. Each straightaway was an opportunity to pass people up, each turn a chance to reassess my position. Runners were starting to come back to me in pairs and handfuls, paying the price for going out too fast early on. My patience was paying off as I continued to roll. I spotted the 2 mile marker coming up, and glanced at my watch as I passed it, the 2 mile marker being much more accurate than the 1 mile marker.
11:xx
I didn’t know my exact 2 mile split. I did know that I was well under my original planned pace, and that there was right around 1 mile and change to go.
“First 2/3 with your head, last 1/3 with your heart.”
I had executed the first 2/3 with a smart race plan. Now it was time to put all out there. My lungs were beginning to burn, my breathing raspy as I fought to keep moving up. My legs were starting to fatigue, especially in my hamstrings and calves that were starting to burn quite a bit.
The last kilometer of an all-out 5k is always an absolute suffer-fest. This is especially evident for someone who is not well conditioned aerobically and anaerobically. I was no longer passing people by the handfuls. I found myself close to my limits, each person seemingly reeled in slower than the last. As I approached 600 meters to go, I started to become uncertain and thoughts crossed my mind.
“Could I still sustain this pace? Was I going to throw up? Were my legs going to suddenly give out on me? No! I’m not going to worry! I have nothing to lose, and I should just try!”
As I started to run down the penultimate straightaway with 400 meters to go, the majority of runners in front of me were too far ahead to catch. There was one runner in front of me by approximately 10 meters, who seemed just out of range for my already burning legs. I wasn’t sure if I could catch him. I wasn’t sure if I had the kick.
A flashback crossed my mind. I thought back to earlier this year in May, when I was struggling to drive home from work and sitting on my doorstep crying out of pain and frustration. I thought about how I would have massive surges of pain shoot down my entire right leg, and how I couldn’t even walk more than a quarter mile without losing sensation in my leg.
I compared the pain I had in May to the pain I was experiencing in the moment, trying to hunt down this one last runner. I suddenly thought to myself: We have come too far to just give up. We can take more pain!
Over the next 100 meters, I gradually reeled in the runner. My entire body was now screaming at me to slow down, but my mind had committed to this move. I passed him decisively, and begin to kick. I rounded the final corner, and spotted the finish line with the time clock. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
17:20… 17:21… 17:22
I was on pace to not only match what I had predicted my current fitness at, but to smash 18 minutes! I continued to pour on the speed as best as I could. I could hear footsteps behind me, but I wasn’t going to let myself get outkicked. Not this time.
17:35…17:36…17:37
The last few seconds of a race can seem like an eternity. It is a unique space where everything in your body hurts but your mind has somehow dissociated from reality in an effort to finish the job, to cross the line.
17:41…17:42…17:43
I crossed the finish, staggered for a few steps, and then collapsed on the ground, gasping for as much air and forgiveness as my lungs could handle. A volunteer came up to me, asking me if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up and resumed inhaling more air. After a few minutes, I had sufficiently recovered to slowly stand up and walk out of the finish area to the festival.
I had done it.
I had accomplished the goal I had set out for myself this year: getting healthy enough again to run, compete, and toe the start line of the 2022 Silicon Valley Turkey Trot.
I soaked in the moment. Even though this was my slowest ever finish time for this course, it was hands-down the most challenging journey to a start line I have ever taken, and for that I am proud of myself for not giving up.
Conclusion
The completion of the 2022 Silicon Valley Turkey Trot is a fitting conclusion for this series, but also marks the beginning of a new chapter of my running career. I am still uncertain as to how much cumulative load my body can handle, nor do I know whether I’ll run another PR again. The performance from this race though off of limited training seems to provide promise of new and exciting things on the horizon, but as I have learned on this 3-year journey, you never know where life will take you.
For now, as I prepare to go into the next chapter, I can gratefully say that life is now back to how it was before: experiential and memorable, with all of the various ups, downs and challenges of running, work and life. Life is rich with variety and colorful in multiple dimensions. Life is no longer just happening through a TV screen.
Let’s keep securing the bread 🍞
Addendum
This section is just to explore more of my rehabilitation process and thoughts/research behind it. This month is from the post-operative months of Week 15 – Week 18/Thanksgiving Race Day. The theme of this phase is continuing sport-specific rehabilitation. While I am strong enough and healthy enough to run continuously, there is still much to rebuild before I am back at full training volume. If I had to make a list of the top three primary impairments that hinder my return to running, it would include:
- Decreased R. calf strength + power
- Decreased R. glute strength (glute max and glute med)
- Decreased R hamstring/sciatic nerve mobility and L hip extension mobility
With my existing program, I began to gradually decrease the frequency of aspects of the program as I worked towards a mini-taper for the Turkey Trot
Return to running – s/p 15 weeks – 18 weeks
- Double leg box jumps, 2 sets x 5 repetitions, 1-2x/week
- Single Leg Calf raises, 3 sets x 20 repetitions, 60 sec. rest, 2-4x/week
- Lateral Stepdowns, 3 sets x 15 reps. each leg, 30 – 60 sec. rest, 2-3x/week
- Copenhagen Planks, 1 set x 60 – 90 sec. hold, 2-3x/week
SI Joint/Hip Self-Rehabilitation
- Hip hinge with weight, 3 sets x 15 reps, 60 sec. rest, 3-5x/week
- Quad stretch in sidelying, 3 sets x 60 sec. holds, 1x/day
Other ancillary strengthening
- Cable Rotational pulls, 3 sets x 15 repetitions each direction, 1-2x/week
- Front planks, 1-2 sets x 60 sec. holds, 30 sec. rest, 2-3x/week
Cardiovascular reconditioning this month has continued on the same trend as the last couple weeks of October: sport-specific conditioning. I intentionally chose to keep my mileage on the low end in order to ensure that I would reach race day healthy. Within each week, I focused on having longer days where I ran close to lactate threshold effort or faster (Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays) alternating with easier effort days to serve as recovery runs (Mondays, Fridays and Sundays). Wednesdays were my chosen day off of running, mainly because my commuting traffic to go to work was the worst on those days and it gave me one less thing to worry about in the morning.
Below is a log of what my running looked like for the month of November (with data catalogued on Strava):
For the month of November, I chose to keep my running volume steady around 10 - 11 miles in order to give my body time to adjust to the volume. With the limited volume, I therefore had to try to maximize my harder days to make sure that the efforts counted.
Finally, we can return back to the check-in of seeing how I’m doing in terms of returning to running.
For the overall stage of running that I have entered, we can re-visualize that with this infograph from last chapter’s post: (1):
For the stage that I’m at, I would consider myself to be somewhere between stages 3 and 4. While I am starting to introduce small workouts and have a race under my belt, my weekly running volume is still not quite what I was previously running yet. I am hopeful though that as the next few months progress, I will be able to fully build back my fitness and once again test the limits of my running performance.
References
1. Ardern, CL., et al. (2016). 2016 Consensus statement on return to sport from the First World Congress in Sports Physical Therapy, Bern. BJSM, 50(14), 853-864
