injury Archives - Running for Autism

5 Surprising Things I Have Learned Since I Started Running

April 10, 2014 By Kirsten

1. Rest days are important. I used to think that in order to get better and faster, and in order to prove that I was a “real” runner, I had to run every day. If a training schedule called for a rest day, what it really meant was that I was running for maybe a mile instead of five or six miles. What I’ve discovered, though, is that the right balance of rest days and active days is crucial to my success as a runner. Not only do the rest days help prevent injury, they actually make me stronger, both physically and mentally. Enforced rests due to illness, injury or circumstance usually have a surprisingly good effect.

2. Kids are better runners than adults. Over the years, I have read many books written by runners, coaches and various kinds of doctors, all advising on the best ways to run. It’s not a simple case of putting one foot in front of another, they say. You have to think about what part of your foot is striking the ground, how long your stride is, what your posture looks like, what your arms are doing. I heed all of this advice, and I still have periodic struggles with my form. Then I look at my eight-year-old, who runs for his school’s track and cross-country teams. When he runs, he looks truly magical. He has perfect form and graceful fluidity that I can only envy. Adults are always trying to improve on nature, sometimes to their detriment. Kids, on the other hand, move the way human beings are designed to move.

3. Heel striking is not a bad thing. Most serious runners have heard all about how landing on your heels is a Bad Thing. It creates more impact, and therefore more injuries, and it is a grossly inefficient way of running. I bought into this so much that I went out and bought a pair of Newtons running shoes in order to “teach” myself the art of midsole striking. Six months of excruciating calf pain later, I gave it up as a bad idea. I realized that we are all different, that not everyone is meant to be a midsole striker. A few months later, I read this article which suggests that for some of us, heel striking is actually a more efficient way of running.

4. There is no hard and fast rule regarding fueling. When I started training for my first half-marathon, I spent a lot of time researching all kinds of things, including nutrition and long-run fueling. The gist of what I read was as follows. For runs of thirty minutes or less, you can get by without taking water with you. Between thirty and ninety minutes, you should bring water, but you don’t really need anything else. If you’re out for longer than ninety minutes, you’ll need an energy drink of some kind, and for anything beyond two hours, a gel might be needed. I tried to follow this formula for a while, and it didn’t work at all. For a start, I need water on every single run. I have high hydration needs, and I need at least a sip of water for every ten minutes of activity. Secondly, I need an energy drink for runs lasting longer than an hour, and that is all I need in addition to water. I never take gels. Ever. Not only do they have no noticeable effect on my performance, they have the consistency of snot and make me feel ill.

5. There is a huge mental component to running. I’ve always known this, of course. The surprise is the extent to which it is true. It has been suggested that running is 10% physical and 90% mental. I’m not sure that I agree with that – the physical foundation has to be in place, and it has to be maintained. But for someone running a distance that they have actually trained for (in other words, that they are physically ready for), mental strength does play an enormous role. I have this pattern when I run half-marathons, of moving along just fine until I hit the 18K mark. As soon as I see that 18K marker, it’s as if a switch goes off in my brain – a switch that says, “Hey, you’ve just run 18K. You should be absolutely knackered.” And my body willingly obliges by suddenly feeling exhausted. The pace that I’ve maintained so nicely goes to hell, my legs turn to Jello and my breathing goes all weird and creepy. I struggle along in a terrible state for 2K, and then, as I enter the final kilometre, it all turns around again. A burst of energy hits me out of nowhere, and I sail through the last kilometre. In general, I am a mediocre, middle-of-the-pack runner, but I have a phenomenal finish line kick, and I am sure that it comes from my mind.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit to the author.

Filed Under: running, Training Tagged With: efficient, energy drink, finish line kick, form, fueling, gels, graceful, heel striking, injury, mental, physical, rest days, Running shoes, water

Race Report: St. Patrick’s Day 5K

March 21, 2013 By Kirsten

Three weeks ago, my sports medicine guy told me that I was not to run the half-marathon that I was registered for the following weekend. Through my own stupidity, I had aggravated my old ankle injury, and the doctor practically guaranteed that if I ran that that half-marathon, I would be out for the rest of the season.

If I behaved myself (in other words, if I followed doctor’s orders), I would be allowed to run the St. Patrick’s Day 5K. So I scaled back my training and paced myself more appropriately. When the doctor told me to run on the treadmill, I ran on the treadmill. I only ventured out onto the road when he said I could. I behaved impeccably, and sure enough, I was cleared for takeoff. When I asked the doctor if he wanted me to exercise any caution during the race or if I could just go hell for leather, he said, “Run like you stole something.”

All right, then.

If I was going to run like I stole something, I might as well have fun with it. I decided to dress up a little, in keeping with the spirit of St. Paddy’s Day. And so on the morning of the race, I got onto the subway with temporary Irish-themed tattoos all over my face, ridiculous green-and-white striped socks going all the way up to my knees, and green and orange hair extensions attached to my hat. I didn’t even stand out. Torontonians – even those not of Irish descent – take St. Paddy’s Day very seriously, so I blended right in. It was the people dressed normally who stuck out like sore thumbs

I got to the start line with about half an hour to spare. Usually I like to arrive at races at least an hour ahead of time, but it was icy cold, so I was glad to have less time for standing around. I checked my bag and did some half-hearted warm-ups. After my injury, I wasn’t really expecting to be a speed demon at this race. My goal was to beat 32 minutes.

Ten minutes before the start, I stood at the start line among about a thousand other runners, almost all of whom were dressed for the occasion. It was fun to see all the leprechaun hats and bright green wigs. The starting siren went, and we were off.

My strategy was simply to go as fast as I could, but I got boxed in by the crowds at first. I was only really able to take off after 500 metres or so. The course was pleasant: downtown Toronto is kind of flat, so I was able to go at a fairly consistent pace. The mood was festive throughout. Runners were laughing and joking, admiring each other’s outfits, and cheering each other on. Some had liquid in their water bottles that looked suspiciously like beer.

The best part of the race was the inspiration I drew from the runners around me. The Saint Patrick’s Day run is organized in support of Achilles Canada, an amazing organization that enables people with disabilities to be athletes. There were a lot of runners on the course with a variety of challenges. There were blind athletes running with guides, people in wheelchairs, double amputees with prosthetics.

It was humbling to witness the enthusiasm and dedication of these athletes. I felt truly honoured to be among them.

I was absolutely spent at the end, and struggled to get through the last kilometre. But when the finish line came into view, I felt that magical surge of energy, and I was able to kick it up a notch, finishing in a time of 30:32.

Not bad for a post-injury first race of the season. I feel like this run has given me the kick-start I have been needing to start my season of training in earnest.

One final thought: the free post-race beer went down very well!

(Photo credit: Kirsten Doyle)

Filed Under: Achilles Canada, Disability, Race, running, Saint Patrick's Day Run Tagged With: athletes with disabilities, downtown Toronto, injury, Irish-themed, post-race beer, training, treadmill

Running: Microlactin As A Race Recovery Aid

June 16, 2012 By Kirsten

When I ran a personal best at last year’s Fall half-marathon, I could barely walk for about a week afterward, and I didn’t even attempt to run for about two weeks. I knew that I should get out and run as soon as possible, that the best cure for tight muscles was motion. But when you have trouble getting from your bedroom to the bathroom without looking like a 200-year-old, the idea of a 5K jog around the neighbourhood is akin to climbing Mount Everest.

Initially I blamed the bag pickup setup at the race. The bag pickup area had been placed at the end of the finish line chute, which meant that twenty thousand runners were forced into a corral the width of a three-lane city street. It was absolute chaos. I stood in that line for two hours waiting for my bag, with no place to stretch or cool down and dehydration making my mind go moggy.

While that experience undoubtedly hindered my race recovery, it could not have been the only factor. All I had to do was cast my mind back to my long training runs. I had been in pain for several days after each one, even when I had not pushed myself particularly hard. There had to be some other factor that was preventing my body from bouncing back in the way that I thought it should.

I was introduced to a supplement called Microlactin in early May, about three weeks prior to the Toronto Womens Half-Marathon. Among the things promised in the promotional material were decreased joint pain and enhanced recovery from strenuous exercise.

Microlactin is made by Swiss Natural, the same company that manufactures the only multivitamin that my body tolerates. The active ingredients are micronutrients found in cow’s milk, that slow the emigration of neutrophils from vascular spaces into the joint spaces.

What’s that? Oh never mind, I didn’t understand that sentence either.

Here’s a translation: the milk proteins in Microlactin help reduce the inflammation associated with joint pain, thereby enhancing mobility and recovery from strenuous exercise. All I had to do was take it for a minimum of two weeks to see these benefits.

Well, this would be interesting. My first thought wasn’t whether this supplement would actually benefit me, but how it would fit in with all of the other stuff I take. My daily regimen already included multivitamins, vitamin D, calcium, and a vitamin B/C complex. Could I really add something else to the mix?

Before taking it, I Googled Microlactin. I didn’t see anything that indicated an adverse reaction to Microlactin, either taken alone or with other supplements. Best of all, it made no difference whether it was taken with or without food.

According to the instructions on the bottle, the recommended dosage is four capsules twice a day. That seemed like an awful lot, especially considering how big the capsules are. I soon found, however, that as long as I swallowed one capsule at a time and washed them down with plenty of water, it wasn’t a problem.

I took my first dose on a Wednesday, and I did a long run the following Sunday. It was an intense phase of my training cycle, so I pushed myself hard on the run. To my amazement, I woke up the following morning feeling nothing more than some residual aching in my hamstrings, which dissipated as the day went on.

Well, this couldn’t be right. No supplement could possibly yield such dramatic results in only four days. The manufacturers themselves made it clear that it could take two weeks to see a difference. I decided that it was a fluke.

The following weekend I ran further, faster and harder. By rights I shouldn’t have been able to get out of bed the next day. Not only did I get out of bed, I was nimble about it. There was none of my usual Monday morning post-long-run moaning and groaning as I got ready for work.

The real test, of course, was the half-marathon on May 27^th. By then I had been taking Microlactin for almost three weeks. I was definitely benefiting from it, but now I was going all-out in an attempt to run a personal best.

I ran hard on a tough course, missing my personal best by 25 seconds – no mean feat, especially considering that my iffy ankle was acting up. After the race I was really hurting. My ankle was throbbing painfully and my legs just didn’t want to have anything to do with anything. I hobbled painfully to the designated pickup spot that my husband and I had agreed on prior to the race.

The following morning I woke up, fully expecting to be in a lot of pain. But no! I had some stiffness in my legs, but I was able to move around easily enough. My ankle was very sore, but even that seemed to be better than I would have expected. While I had been focusing on the race recovery aspect of the Microlactin, I had not paid much attention to the fact that it could help ease the pain of a very old injury.

Two days post-race, I had an appointment with my sports massage therapist. When I walked into his office, he looked up in surprise and said, “What happened? Did you miss your race?”

“Ummmm, no, I was there,” I replied, going on to give him an account of my run.

“So why aren’t you hobbling in here on one leg like you always do after your races?”

During the massage itself, the massage therapist was amazed at how loose my muscles were. When I told him why this was, he joked that Swiss Natural Microlactin was going to put him out of work.

The following day I went out for a leisurely but very comfortable 6km run, and two weeks later, I am ready to start my training program for my autism run in October. This time, I will take Swiss Natural Microlactin throughout my training. Speedier recoveries might just help push me to a personal best time.

(Photo credit: Kirsten Doyle)

(Disclaimer: this review, which is kindly sponsored by Swiss Natural, is based on my own personal experiences and observations. Any statements made here or elsewhere on Running for Autism are not intended to replace the advice of a certified medical professional.)

Filed Under: Half-Marathon, Microlactin, Product Review, Race, Race Recovery, running, Swiss Natural, Uncategorized, Vitamins & Supplements Tagged With: hamstrings, injury, joints, microlactin, muscles, race, racing, recovery, running, stiffness, supplements, swiss natural

GUEST POST: Back Into The Stride

June 7, 2012 By Kirsten

In March, I received an email inviting me to participate in the Health Activist Writers Month Challenge hosted by WEGO Health. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” I thought, and signed up. I had never participated in a month-long blogging challenge before and didn’t really know what to expect. I thought that maybe my readership would increase slightly. Perhaps I would come across a couple of blogs that interested me.

I didn’t anticipate becoming immersed in an entirely new (to me) community of bloggers. During the challenge I read many blog posts that were humourous, surprising, heart-wrenching, thought-provoking, informative, or just downright good. I have been fortunate enough to keep in touch with some of the writers, and I remain an active participant in the goings-on at WEGO Health.

One of the writers I “met” during the challenge is a woman who has much in common with me. She is the parent of an individual with special needs. She is also a runner, and therefore totally gets why the highlight of my weekend was going out to buy a new pair of running shoes.

Today, Gretchen Stahlman tells us about her train of thought as she returns to running after a break.

I hadn’t run in about a month, the longest stretch since I started running distance six years ago. I normally run three or four times a week, depending on what I’m training for. Last December I started training hard for the half-marathons I ran in the spring. I had a good base from running the NYC marathon in November and I wanted to capitalize on that, plus I wanted to keep myself motivated through the dark, cold winter months. And it worked: I had a PR at my half in March, and I felt like I was really coming into my own in running. But by the end of April when I ran my last half, my body and my mind were too tired to do what I wanted them to do.

Soon enough I’ll start training for the Chicago marathon, so the month of May was a good time to rest and recover and finally address that twangy right hamstring. When I traveled to Denver on business, I purposefully didn’t take my running gear so I’d be forced to take the time off. As it turns out, I liked resting. And I’m pretty good at it (better at it than running). So I took another week off. I stretched my hamstring and, amazingly, it got better when I wasn’t running on it. So I took another week off. I decided that I would run again when I felt like it. Day after day, I didn’t feel like it.

Then last week, my mind got stuck while working on a new essay. In writing, there is the required butt-to-chair time when the words manifest themselves on the page, but for me, I also need running time that frees my mind to go where it will while my body churns away at the miles.

I made my triumphant return to running last Saturday. Just three miles and I knew it would be hard, making me wonder how I had ever run 26.2 miles before and how I would ever do it again. I ran with a new friend on a route I like a lot, one that takes us on the canal path where there are always other runners, owners walking dogs, couples strolling with cups of coffee. We ran smoothly over the brick sidewalk, saying good morning to those who came our way.

A white haired man in old-school running gear came our direction, not terribly fast and with a little lurch in his stride. His left hand held his right arm to his chest as he ran, and when we drew closer, I could see that it was shriveled to half the density of his left. I said Good morning as we passed, and then Wow to my friend when the man was out of earshot. Wow, she said back.

When my friend slowed to walk, I ran on by myself. Now free of conversation, my thoughts drifted to my son who is 22 and only recently diagnosed with Asperger’s although he’s been this way his entire life. He hit a dark skid last fall where he stayed in bed all day, didn’t shower unless told to, didn’t go out, shrank back from the difficulties of the world. That’s when we sought professional help, that’s when the diagnosis came, and now he’s getting out of bed and doing a few things on his own, more each week, a slow stuttering rise to a new life. The social interactions are hard for him, going new places, doing new things, but equally hard to go old places and see people he already knows. But he’s doing it. He’s putting himself out there, making the effort, like the old man who has found his own way to run, holding himself together, not letting what he can’t do prevent him from doing the things that he can.

The route I ran turned down a dirt road and then along a short stretch of trail. The wet of the morning grass come through my running shoes. The trees arched over the path, dimming the sun, muting the world. When I picked up my right foot to clear the rocks and roots, that old achy hamstring sang out like an old friend. The path ended and I turned onto the road, the one that lead me back to where I started. My first run was done, not as hard as I thought it would be. It felt good to be back, in both mind and body, ready to begin my own arduous climb to the marathon.

To learn more about Gretchen Stahlman, check out her website!

(Photo credit: Gretchen Stahlman)

Filed Under: Aspergers Syndrome, Gretchen Stahlman, Guest Posts, Injury, running, Special Needs, WEGO Health, Writing Tagged With: Aspergers, break, freedom, injury, marathon, running, train of thought, training, writing

Running: Breaking A Personal Barrier

March 19, 2012 By Kirsten

My Distance Enjoyment Chart

Yesterday morning I went for a 17km run.

As usual, I didn’t get enough sleep the night before. As usual, I seriously questioned the sanity of what I was doing as I got ready. And as usual, I ended up enjoying the run far more than I had thought I would.

Whenever I’m ramping up my distance, 17km is a milestone distance. If you were to plot my enjoyment of distances on a graph, the line would rise steadily from 5km to 10km. Then it would start to drop, and the lowest point would be at 16km – a distance that for whatever reason is hell for me. After 16km, the line climbs and reaches its highest point at 21.1km – the half-marathon distance.

So 17km is like a magic number for me. It means that I have broken the ugly 16km barrier at which I never really know how to pace myself, and I am free to run true to my natural style.

I knew going into the run that it might be a challenge. Two decades ago I sustained a serious injury to my left ankle that flares up from time to time. On Saturday night, I had woken up multiple times feeling as if someone was sticking a red-hot skewer right into the centre of my ankle joint. Sure enough, when I started running on Sunday morning, my foot felt a little tender. In addition, my left hamstring was a little tight, probably due to the fact that I added hill training to my routine last week.

I ran anyway, reasoning that I could always stop if I had to, and yet knowing that I wouldn’t. Little aches and pains that I feel at the start of a run have a way of disappearing as I loosen up.

Apart from a couple of little twinges, I pretty much forgot about the pain in my ankle. The hamstring never really loosened up, but it didn’t get worse either, and I was able to pace myself more or less consistently throughout the 17km. I had my usual difficulties at the usual times, and got through it as I always do: positive self-talk, upbeat music, and a reminder that my whole reason for running is to raise funds for autism.

It’s amazing how the thought of doing something for your kids can put things into perspective. My son lives with the challenges of autism day in and day out, and it will be this way for the rest of his life. Surely, surely, I can cope with the challenges of running for a couple of hours once a week.

And so I finished my 17km, and returned home to be greeted by the child who motivates me to do all of this. This little dude is the only person in the world who can hug me fiercely without caring that I have 17km worth of sweat and salt all over me. Sure, it’s a little gross, but at the same time it’s totally endearing.

After the run I may not have felt as good as new, but I was in reasonable enough nick. My hamstring hurt like the blazes for the rest of the day and I needed to stay off my ankle as much as possible, but I felt the sense of triumph that always comes after a successful long run.

My next long run will be 19km, and I say: BRING IT!

Filed Under: autism, Injury, Mental Barriers, pacing, running, Running for Autism, Training Tagged With: 17km, ankle injury, autism, barrier, distance running, hamstring, injury, running, training

Christmas Trees, Snow And My Middle Finger

December 19, 2011 By Kirsten

Ladies and gents, listen up! I have an announcement!

*Tapping foot while the drone of multiple conversations gradually dies down and people look in my direction*

OK, now that I have your attention – excuse me, you at the back of the room, I need undivided attention here, because this is a momentous occasion. Now that I have your attention, I want to tell you that this year I got my Christmas decorations up a full week before Christmas!

This is unprecedented. Every other year, I’ll be commuting home from work, and I’ll suddenly look up from the book I’m reading with a jolt, thinking, “Holy crap! Christmas is three days away and I don’t have my decorations up yet!” I’ll arrive home, and in a whirlwind of activity that startles my family, I’ll hunt down the decorations and then flit about putting them up.

To be fair, I compensate for my tardiness by leaving the decorations up until mid-February.

This year I decided to do it differently. I would do my decorating on a Sunday, when things are a bit less chaotic, and when I can bully sweet-talk my children into helping. Apart from everything else, my almost-six-year-old son James gave me a reason for getting my decorating done: he wanted to go to school and tell his friend Ciara that he had the best Christmas tree in the world. This would be the same kid who featured in a note James wrote that declared, “Ciara is skeery.”

In order to decorate, I first had to go shopping. My Christmas tree tinsel is a gazillion years old, and is 45% shiny tinsel, 55% tatty string. I also got some oversized baubles and a small disco ball (James’ idea) to hang from the ceiling, and some new stuff for my ceramic Christmas village. I was about to go in search of some cotton wool to make Christmas village snow out of, when I saw some “instant snow” mix. The instructions seemed straightforward enough: just mix with water and viola! You have snow!

Well, this looked nice! My village could have actual snow – or something that looks like actual snow!

I paid for my purchases, wrestled my children back into the car, and drove home. I was unaccountably excited about putting up the decorations, so I hustled my family through dinner, and with a decisive clap of my hands, I said, “Right! Time to tackle the decorations!” The husband helped with the heavy lifting, then he dove for cover, having learned from previous years that the living room turns into a hazardous obstacle course during decorating time.

I got the tree up and decorated. I perched the angel on top, plugged it in, and switched on the lights. Immediately my living room looked like a family was actually celebrating Christmas in it. Next stop was the Christmas village. I dug out all of the pieces, arranged them on the mantle, and strung lights through the buildings so they could glow from the inside. Now all I needed was snow! I grabbed my packet of instant snow. One tablespoon of powder in 32 ounces of water, said the instructions. I measured out precisely 32 ounces of water, added precisely one tablespoon of powder, and stirred.

Hmmm. Didn’t seem to be working out too well. Apart from a few sorry-looking flakes in my water jug, I wasn’t getting anything. I threw in some more powder. Now the consistency of the water was starting to change, which was promising. For good measure, I added a bit more powder.

Thirty seconds later, I was staring in astonishment as fake snow spilled out my water jug and into the kitchen sink. This stuff was unreal. It was expanding like crazy and just wouldn’t stop. It reminded me of the time I used my breadmaker with a tablespoon of yeast instead of a teaspoon of yeast, resulting in the Great Bread Explosion Of 2009.

Well, I had enough snow for my village. In fact, I had enough snow for my village to be buried in an avalanche. I gave my village snow for a pretty snowfall, and then tried to wash the rest of the snow down the sink.

Big mistake. I only got more snow. What the hell is this stuff, and why can’t my money do that?

I abandoned the snow and turned to the big baubles and the disco ball. Hanging them from the ceiling would be simple enough. All I had to do for each one was raise two adjoining ceiling tiles, tie the string onto the metal strat between the tiles, and then lower the tiles. Not a problem – I’ve done this many times. I hung the first bauble, but only one of the ceiling tiles would go back into place. I raised it up a little higher, and then let it go so it could drop. Unfortunately, I neglected to first move my finger out of the way, and the tile came crashing down right on my fingernail.

I am not proud of the language that came out of my mouth. My husband came rushing in to see what I was swearing about. He asked me why my face had turned white, but before I could answer, James started dancing around me chanting, “Mommy said a bad word! Mommy said a bad word!” James’ older brother George, the eight-year-old with autism, was cheerfully repeating the said bad word over and over. My finger had already started sprouting a colourful bruise. I held it up to show my husband, who was tickled pink over the fact that it happened to be my middle finger. I ran into the kitchen and shoved my hand into the sinkful of fake snow. To my surprise, it actually did soothe the pain a little.

I pulled myself together enough to hang the rest of the baubles (without incident) and the disco ball (also without incident). Now all I had to do was get rid of the excess fake snow. My husband suggested flushing it down the loo, but I had a feeling that if we did that, we’d have to wear snowshoes every time we needed to pee. In the end, I just scooped it up and threw it into the garbage can.

And now, we can sit back and relax – actually, that’s a lie. I still have to do my Christmas shopping. But I can at least go home at the end of the day and drink a well-deserved glass of wine in the warm glow of the Christmas lights.

Filed Under: Christmas, Christmas Tree, Decorating, Hazards Of Decorating, Snow Tagged With: Christmas, Christmas chaos, Christmas tree, decorating, fake snow, injury, postaweek2011

Giving Up A Race

May 14, 2011 By Kirsten

Well, this is crap. I am registered for the Toronto Womens Half-Marathon at the end of May, and it looks like I won’t be able to run it. I hate, hate, hate having to give up race registrations, and there’s a part of me that still wants to try and run this race. But training has been hard when it’s happened at all. There has been too much going on – like the small business of getting married and all of the planning that went with that.

I’ve still been running, don’t get me wrong. But my distances have not been as long as I’d want them to be, and I haven’t felt quite as strong as I’d like.

And now I’ve gone and caught a cold. Not a bad one, but just enough to make me feel like I shouldn’t take a chance on running. And to complicate matters, the nerve in my neck that got damaged last year has been acting up. This happens from time to time: I feel that uncomfortable numbness in the fingers of my left hand that is accompanied by a slight aching sensation in my arm as I run. My gut keeps on telling me that if I try running a 21km race a mere two weeks from now, I will get injured and sideline myself for the rest of the summer.

My gut is always right. I know better than to second-guess my instincts.

It’s not all bad news, though. I am looking for another half-marathon to run in late June or early July (if anyone knows of anything within reasonable driving distance of Toronto, let me know!), and I have submitted my registration for my annual Run for Autism, meaning that soon I will be able to start fundraising.

I may be temporarily down, but I am by no means out.

Filed Under: Injury, running, Running for Autism Tagged With: damaged nerve, gut instinct, half-marathon, illness, injury, postaday2011, pulling out of a race, running, training

A Life Hanging In The Balance

April 20, 2011 By Kirsten

About three weeks ago, we hired a new respite worker for George. It has been a long, frustrating process – anyone who has ever had a need for a respite worker will know that the good ones are like gold dust. They are very hard to find, and even harder to keep.

When our new worker, F, walked into our home for an interview, I liked her immediately. Perhaps more tellingly, both of the kids took to her immediately. In a very short time, she has wormed her way into the hearts of the entire family.

Sadly, as she becomes an important part of our family, a crisis is happening in her own. A couple of weeks ago, the car that her sister and sister-in-law were traveling in was hit by a car making an illegal turn. The driver of the other car drove away at speed, but not before a witness snapped a picture of him with a cell phone. Police have since found the vehicle and identified the driver, who is currently hiding out in the United States.

F’s sister is OK. She has a broken leg and some nasty bruising. The sister-in-law, on the other hand, is in very serious condition. She was pregnant at the time of the collision, and the baby did not survive. And now her own body is gradually shutting down. She is not responding to medication, her lungs are filling up with fluids, and doctors are saying that there is nothing they can do.

She has been moved to palliative care. There have been conversations about DNR’s.

My heart goes out to F, who is very close to her sister-in-law. I think of the anguish she is going through, and the pain of the man who is likely going to be widowed very soon. I think of a two-year-old child whose mother is dying. And it just breaks my heart.

Anyone reading this – please send out positive thoughts of strength and healing to a family who really needs it. The doctors say that a miracle is still possible. Let’s try to bend the will of the Universe to make that miracle happen.

Filed Under: Bereavement, Injury, life, positive thoughts Tagged With: car accident, DNR, hit and run, hospital, injury, palliative care, positive thoughts, postaday2011, respite worker

Things That Go Boing In the Night

March 4, 2011 By Kirsten

This morning I was once again lamenting the difficulty I am having with my running these days. I had planned to get up early to go running – an actual run on the road, instead of that pesky treadmill – but because my beautiful, quirky child with autism has an autism-related sleep disorder, he woke up at three in the morning to jump on the trampoline in the living room.

I had migrated to the couch in the middle of the night, having been ousted from my bed by James, who sleeps like a starfish and pokes knees and elbows everywhere. So what this meant was that I was woken at three this morning by the sound of “boing boing boing” coming from about four feet away from my left ear.

I couldn’t go running. Not that I had any hope whatsoever of going back to sleep, but going running would have involved leaving the kids with Gerard. Leaving sleeping kids with a sleeping Dad is OK. Leaving wide-awake, ricocheting-off-the-walls kids with a sleeping Dad is not a good idea. I would have come back from my run to find Gerard bound to a totem pole with rope, with the kids running around him in circles waving sticks.

It doesn’t matter that we don’t own a totem pole. The kids are resourceful. They would have found one or made one.

As I got ready for work in a haze of exhaustion, I stared wistfully at my pile of running clothes and wondered if I would ever get to go running again. I started freaking out a little. My next race is just under a month from now, and I have a half-marathon coming up at the end of May. I have not been running long distances for a couple of months now, and I need to start training in earnest.

I want to look strong and sexy when I pass the half-marathon water station manned by shirtless firefighters. I don’t want to look as if I’m about to explode. I mean, c’mon. I know I’ll be a lawfully married woman by then, but shirtless firefighters are shirtless firefighters.

When I stopped to think about the recent dearth of road running, I took heart simply by comparing myself to the state I was in this time last year. I was in the midst of being treated for a bundle of pinched nerves and I had bronchitis. Whereas this year I have actually been running – albeit on the treadmill – on a fairly regular basis, last year I was not able to run at all from late December until late March. And I still managed to put in a fairly decent showing at a half-marathon at the end of May.

So I’m thinking I’ll be fine. I’m in reasonably good shape, better than I was this time last year.

And even when the running is difficult, all I have to do is think about why I’m doing it and who I’m doing it for.

Filed Under: Children, running Tagged With: autism, children, George, illness, injury, postaday2011, running, sleep

Overcoming The Bad Stuff: 19 March 2010

February 27, 2011 By Kirsten

As I attempt to patch together bits of my life that feel as if they are falling apart, I find myself unable to write. This is a re-post from last year. In fact, this was only the third or fourth post in the life of Running For Autism. I’ll see you tomorrow, emotional Band-Aids and all.

2010 did not exactly start off well for me. In early December, I had suffered from a strep throat infection, during which I had only been able to lie down comfortably in one position for three days. This resulted in some stiffness in my neck and upper back. It was not crippling, merely uncomfortable, and my chiropractor was helping me out with it. The day before New Years Eve, a chiropractic adjustment went horribly wrong. I had excruciating shooting pains in my back and going all the day down my left arm. The fingers in my hand went numb. While everyone else was out partying it up the following night, I was sitting on the couch writhing in agony. I missed the New Years Day Resolution Run – something that I had been looking forward to for weeks.

Over the next month, I went to the Emergency Room twice, was seen by five different doctors, and got four different prescriptions for drugs. I cried myself to sleep each night because I was in so much pain, and I appropriated the kids’ giant stuffed gorilla because it was just the right size for me to rest my arm on. I was taking Percocet for the pain every six hours, and when the pain between doses got too much for me to bear, I was taking Tylenol Three as well.

For a month I could barely stand up, let alone run. In the end, it was the folks at Toronto SEMI (Sports and Exercise Medicine Institute) who saved me from insanity. The doctor there told me what I had suspected, which is that I had a pinched nerve. The pinched nerves always get resolved, he said, and it could take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks to a few months. I immediately started seeing one of the physiotherapists at SEMI, and within days I was starting to feel relief. After two weeks, she told me I could try running again. Two weeks after that, I was in full-on training mode again, and feeling great.

As soon as I had gotten back on my feet, though, I was struck down again. I caught a cold, and the cold turned into something a lot worse. I had a hacking cough, I had a fever that came and went, I was weak. I was so sick that I was off work for two weeks, and was not allowed back without producing a doctor’s note certifying that I didn’t have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. During this time, I was not able to run for three weeks.

Last weekend marked the end of this three-week drought. I got up on Sunday morning, and although I was still coughing a bit and somewhat congested, I decided to give it a try. It went surprisingly well – slower than I would have liked, but considering all I’d been through over the last three months, I didn’t mind. I was just happy that I was out on the road again.

On Tuesday I went for a lunchtime run. Due to time constraints, my weekday runs cannot really be longer than 5km, but that’s still enough for a good workout. About 500m into the run, my hair band snapped. Not a good thing – I have quite a lot of hair. I ran almost 5km with my hair streaming out behind me. It reminded me of those movies about horses, where the horses are running across meadows with the hair on their tails flowing behind them in the wind. That’s what I felt like. A horse’s ass. I had also misjudged the weather that day, so I was overdressed. Hair flying every which way plus clothes that are too hot leads to a run that is uncomfortable and cumbersome. I was not happy with my pace or the fact that my heart rate was reaching the stratosphere.

My next run was on Thursday. I almost left my running clothes at home that day, because I had had zero sleep on Wednesday night and did not rate my chances for a good run. But you never know, so I took my gym bag to work, not really expecting to use it. Come lunchtime, I still felt like the undead, but knowing from past experience how a run can actually have healing powers, I suited up and hit the road. My clothes were appropriate and my hair band stayed intact. It was a gorgeous, sunny day, and I had a fantastic run. Although the “pace buddy” on my training watch still beat me, my pace was a lot better than it had been on Tuesday. My heart rate stayed within reasonable levels. When I reached the end of the 5km, I could have continued. It was one of those runs that reminds me why I love running.

I am planning another 5km run for tomorrow morning, and a longer one for Sunday. I am looking forward to my 10km race on April 3rd. I am hopeful that I will stay healthy this time. I have to. After all, there are only 190 days to my next run for autism.

Filed Under: Illness, Injury, running Tagged With: bronchitis, chiropractor, illness, injury, pain medication, pinched nerve, postaday2011, race, recovery, running, strep, training