marathon Archives - Running for Autism

Book Review: Grace, Under Pressure (Sophie Walker)

October 28, 2013 By Kirsten

Being the parent of a child with autism can be a very lonely experience. Discovering that your child has a lifelong disability is a bit like being catapulted from your life into a kind of parallel universe where you don’t know what any of the rules are. You have to navigate the confusing maze of government funding and services, and at times you – and your child – are at the mercy of the whims and moods of the people who make decisions about what supports your child might qualify for.

As you wander helplessly in your parallel universe, not knowing where to turn, you might suddenly feel a hand in yours. Sometimes it will be a hand that gently guides you in the right direction. Sometimes, it will be a hand that reassures you, that lets you know you are not alone, that there are others in this same parallel universe who know what you are going through.

Reading Grace, Under Pressure by Sophie Walker had that effect on me. I started reading the book during a time when life seemed to be conspiring against me, and as I immersed myself in the story, I felt as if the author had taken my hand to keep me company through this journey.

Sophie’s life and mine have some strong parallels. Like me, she is the parent of a child on the autism spectrum, and running has been a salvation for her just like it has for me. Both of us run to raise funds for autism, and both of us live with the challenges of parenting a neurotypical child alongside a child with special needs.

In Grace, Under Pressure, Sophie tells the story of her life with her daughter Grace, who has Asperger’s Syndrome. Through wonderfully crafted narrative, we are taken through Grace’s early childhood, the struggle for answers and support, and Sophie’s evolution as a marathon runner. We get a balanced look at the ups and downs of special needs parenting, and the blood, sweat and tears of distance running. We see the laughter, the tears, the desperation, and the gut-wrenching relief when the light at the end of the tunnel finally comes into view.

This is a book about so many things. It is about a brave, bright little girl finding her way in a world in which she is different. It is about the unwavering dedication of a mother to her child. It is about the perseverance of an athlete striving to reach new heights.

Above all, it is about courage and inspiration, and the idea that no matter what, we should never give up hope.

About the author: Sophie Walker has been a journalist for over 15 years, reporting on events in such places as London, Iraq and Afghanistan. She lives in London with her husband and two daughters.

For more information about Sophie Walker and Grace, Under Pressure, please visit http://authorsophiewalker.com/home.

Many thanks to New World Library for providing me with a review copy of Grace, Under Pressure. All opinions expressed in this post are my own.

Filed Under: Aspergers Syndrome, autism, Book review, parenting, running, Sophie Walker, Under Pressure Tagged With: autism spectrum, dedication, disability, hope, inspiration, lonely, marathon, parallel universe, perseverance, special needs, struggle

Body for Life: Starting the Adventure

November 6, 2012 By Kirsten

Quite a few years ago, on the suggestion of my friend Adam, I entered something called the Body for Life Challenge. Adam, who was my chiropractor at the time, was entering the challenge himself, and he formed a little group of people who would take part and offer support and encouragement to each other along the way.

Body for Life is an exercise and nutrition program that promises spectacular results if you follow the guidelines. The guidelines are quite simple. The nutrition aspect involves balancing carbs with proteins, and it follows the now-accepted protocol of six small meals throughout the day instead of one large one. The exercise aspect involves daily workouts, alternating cardio activity with strength training. You follow the Body for Life program for six days a week, and on the seventh you are free to eat whatever you like and sit in front of the TV all day.

I stuck with the program for about nine of the twelve weeks, and during that time I had phenomenal results. Excess weight melted off me, and for a while, my flabs actually turned to abs. Unfortunately, I was thrown off-track by a serious injury to my left (dominant) hand that required stitches, cortisone shots, and all kinds of other ugliness. Back then, I did not have what it took to get back into the saddle after a setback. I was completely derailed.

Although I gained back some of the lost weight after that, it wasn’t all a complete waste. Being on the program taught me some basics about nutrition and exercise that have stayed with me to this day, and of the fifty or so pounds that I lost, I gained back about fifteen. So as a program with long-term effectiveness, it’s pretty good.

I have been feeling a little iffy about my body of late. I run long distances and exercise several times a week. My eating is less than ideal but certainly not disastrous. And yet, I still struggle with my weight. I continue to fight with belly fat gained during my pregnancies seven and nine years ago. I have bat wings. My thighs wobble. My oversized boobs get shredded to bits on long runs, in spite of a good sports bra.

I hate to think what I would look like if I didn’t exercise. I mean, what does a girl have to do to be a normal weight around here?

In the wake of my decision to run a marathon three years from now, I have decided that I am going to reinvent my body. I will never be reed-thin or fit into a B-cup, and perhaps I will always have a little jiggle in my belly to remind me of the lives I had the honour of growing. But there is weight for me to lose. There are things I can do to lose fat, increase muscle mass, and be leaner and stronger.

Over the years, I have tried a number of different eating plans. I have sought the advice of a life coach and a dietician. I have attempted this thing and that thing. But none of it has worked, and it has been very frustrating. For someone with body image issues and a history of eating disorders, this is not healthy.

And so it makes sense to me to go back to the only program that yielded results, the only program I was able to sustain for any length of time. Yesterday, I started the Body for Life challenge again. I have recorded my weight and measurements, and I have had my “before” pictures taken.

This time, it will be even better than before. Because now, I know I will have the strength to pick myself up after any setbacks that may come my way. And when the twelve weeks are over, the healthy habits that I gain will stay with me.

I am not publishing my initial weight and measurements, but I will report back every week to tell you what I’ve (hopefully) lost, along with pictures that show progress. Hopefully they will look better than this:

If you really want to see my flabby bits in all their glory, you can click on the pictures for full-size versions

Photo credit: Kirsten Doyle’s long-suffering husband

Filed Under: Body for Life, Exercise, National Health Blog Post Month, Nutrition, WEGO Health Tagged With: body image, marathon, measurements, program, results, running, weight

Dad: My Running Inspiration

July 2, 2012 By Kirsten

My Father The Hero

When I first started running in the winter of 1996, my dad was my first-ever coach. At that stage of my life, I was quitting smoking and giving up a host of very unhealthy lifestyle habits. My idea of running involved jogging for about thirty seconds and then walking for five minutes while trying to get my breath back. I was that out of shape. When Dad offered to coach me, I initially felt a little awkward. I mean, he was an ex-marathoner of note and he’d be coaching someone who could barely get off the couch. But he insisted that I since I had the spirit of a runner, the rest would follow easily enough.

Over the next few years, Dad gave me a ton of advice that came not from reading books, but from experience. He taught me about hydrating in small frequent sips rather than the occasional big gulp. He took me to the running store not for shoe shopping, but to make sure I knew how to pick out the right socks – something he said many runners fail to see the importance of. He told me that it was important to keep moving after a run instead of just stopping, and he showed me how matching my breathing to my pace would help me not only physically, but mentally as well.

While I was still living in Johannesburg, Dad and I spent many hours sitting on his patio drinking wine and chatting about the South African running scene. He would tell me why this guy was probably going to win the nationals despite being a rookie, and why that guy would crash and burn despite years of experience. He was usually right in his predictions.

Now, seven years after his death, I have realized something that makes me very sad: I did not talk to him enough about his own days as a runner. Today I was looking through a scrapbook I have put together of newspaper clippings, certificates and photographs. I looked at the medals and trophies he won that I got when he died, and I read his training log. And I got a true appreciation for just how great a runner he was.

In his prime, Dad was one of South Africa’s elite marathon runners, featuring in the top ten lists for various distances. As a 22-year-old running his second marathon, he won a place on the podium by crossing the finish line in third place. He ran the now-defunct Peter Korkie ultramarathon – a distance of 37 miles or 59 kilometres – in a time of just over four hours. He ran sub three-hour marathons as a matter of course.

And I wish that I had asked him about those days. How old was he when he started running? What got him into it? What was it like, being a runner in those days?

Apart from a few anecdotes he shared about his days as a runner, and the artifacts that I have now in my possession, I know shamefully little about my dad’s journey as one of South Africa’s true running talents.

It’s not too late to try and find out, though. I have plans to go back to his roots, to the sports club he ran for, to try and find someone who ran with him.

Maybe he will guide me in my quest to find out more, just as I feel him guide me in the races I run today.

(Photo credit: unknown photographer – picture is from my dad’s running archives)

Filed Under: dad, History, running, South Africa Tagged With: coach, elite runner, father, marathon, newspaper clippings, pictures, running, south africa

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

GUEST POST: It’s A Marathon, Not A Race

June 4, 2012 By Kirsten

The first time I met Jennifer Krumins, she was having a fight with her laptop. She was slated to give a parent education presentation at George’s autism therapy centre, and she couldn’t get her technology to work. She endured some good-natured heckling from the front row (read: from my husband), got her PowerPoints to work, and went on to deliver a riveting presentation.

Jennifer is an autism parent, educator and author. She willingly shares her hard-earned wisdom for the benefit of parents who may be feeling a little overwhelmed by the whole special needs gig. Thanks to what I have learned from her, I have become somewhat good at advocating for my son in the school system without alienating anyone along the way. Whenever I start getting my annual IEP-related panic, I start posting stuff about it on Facebook in hopes that Jenn will respond with a gem of wisdom, and she always does.

Since the first time I met Jenn, I have attended more of her presentations and roped my mom into filling out a questionnaire for her book entitled Autism and the Grandparent Connection (which you really should read, even if you’re not a grandparent). We have become friends and we’re looking forward to having a drink together at this year’s autism symposium that Jenn will be presenting at.

Today, she tells us about her journey as an autism parent, and offers us some advice to help us along the way.

I don’t run marathons. I really admire people who do. I have some friends that train faithfully and test their endurance over the course of a few hours…by choice!

I am the parent of a sixteen year old boy with autism. Biggest marathon of my life. Yes, raising a child with autism is perhaps the supreme test of endurance. And yet, like many of my running friends, I would sign up to do it again because in my memory, the moments of success were far more remarkable than the moments of pain, exhaustion and heartbreak.

So what are the secrets of our successful marathon? Is it a medicated state of euphoria that I am experiencing….only to be rudely awakened by reality when the meds wear off?

No. I can honestly say that while the road has been long, harrowing at times and I have fallen on my butt on many an occasion…the journey has delivered far more emotional, intellectual, spiritual and social growth than our family could have dreamed.

The secrets have been revealed to me through fellow “autism marathoners,” trial and error, and most of all through the wisdom of children with autism (my own son and those students whom I have had the privilege to teach). I have learned some valuable tips to enrich the journey and increase endurance:

1. Instead of carb loading…try optimism loading. It’s very good for you and your child! Optimism is a way of looking at life and its inherent stresses. Being an optimistic person does not mean that one is always happy and peppy… it is that you choose to look for opportunity in the middle of adversity. Feed your brain with daily/hourly reminders that adversity is temporary, and that your child is making progress (even if it’s tiny steps). “Children learn what they live,” and as the adults in a child’s life it is our responsibility to model an attitude of positive persistence and hope. We can choose to believe that there is hope, meaning and joy within any given moment.

2. Take a long term approach to training. You would not be able to run your first marathon immediately after deciding to do so. You need to train. It’s the same thing with raising your child. Too often, we get stuck on a panic button in the early years. We may feel like we have to do it all right now in order to win the race against autism. It doesn’t work that way. Live in the present but plan for the future. Each day, each hour that you invest in being the kind of parent you want to be has a cumulative effect. In the long run, it is the lessons of perseverance, self- advocacy, and hope that will develop your child’s ability to be resilient and to ignite a sense of self- worth and self -confidence. Children learn by doing….by failing and trying again. They do not gain self- confidence when we tell them they can do it….and then we do it for them. The values you live by will be the greatest gift you give your child with autism….more than any treatment/intervention.

3. Visualize and rehearse the route. What are your long-term goals for your child? What do you envision for your child in the future? Design your plan so that you not at the mercy of someone’s map. Take the time to write down your thoughts on the following: What are my child’s strengths, skills, interests, challenges and limitations? What about my child gives me the most joy? What are my biggest fears or worries? What goals do I value for my child’s development? What specific behaviours, or other problems, have I observed? How did I react? What did I do in the situation? What could I do better next time, if anything? Have I recently noticed any changes in behaviour or ability? Be prepared to share what you know with those who are on the journey with you (even if you don’t like them). But remember, your plan must be in writing.

4. Talk with folks along the way, enjoy the course, smile often. The autism marathon is a social event. Too often we try to do it alone and we burn out. We need each other. We even need the people that drive us nuts because they keep us running; trying to learn more, be more and advocate more. Choose not to allow bitterness, resentment and hatred ruin the journey. We are the ones who suffer (as do our children) when we allow destructive feelings to shape us. Advocate one step at a time, one person at a time with patience and humility. The journey is much richer when we allow others to help. It is a sign of strength and selflessness to say, “Yes, I could use your help.”

5. Set goals. Work to achieve them and stay focused on the things you want. Your life does not wait until you “fix” the autism. This is it. Treat your life as the gift it is. The time is now to take figure out what you will be living in the next five years (ten and twenty). Start with small steps towards those goals. Catch yourself if you are waiting to live your life. Perhaps, autism is in some way a vehicle for achieving those goals. Seize the time and model for your child what it looks like to live a goal directed life.

The marathon continues. There are more times of peace now…but never for too long. Struggle creates a rich environment for personal growth. Just set your eyes and heart on the target and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

To learn more about Jennifer and the books that she has written, check out Autism Aspirations.

(Photo credit: Jennifer Krumins)

Filed Under: autism, Coping Skills, Guest Posts, Jennifer Krumins, parenting, Special Needs Tagged With: attitude, author, autism, educator, goal-setting, learn, long-term approach, marathon, pacing, parent, rehearse the route, talk to others

Toy Story: The Autism Family Version

February 4, 2011 By Kirsten

Last night, my younger son James bravely waded through the treacherous sea of toys in our living room. When he reached the corner he started digging in toyboxes and didn’t stop until he had unearthed this car ramp toy. You use this toy by driving your toy car into this little elevator, which you then raise up until the car is on the flat roof. You can then push the car around on the roof, or send it rolling down one of the two ramps. For a kid obsessed with Lightning McQueen and Doc Hudson (raise your hand if you recognize the references) this toy is like a slice of heaven.

James took the toy to an unoccupied space on the living room floor (i.e. a spot where he wasn’t knee-deep in other toys) and started playing with it. He was having a wonderful time. Lightning and Doc were racing down the ramps, Mater was driving backwards on the roof, and the Dinoco helicopter was flying overhead. It was all very exciting.

The peace was shattered when George came into the room and saw that the toy had been moved. George doesn’t like it when things are moved. He gets anxious, he starts shrieking and insisting that the item be put back. And so all hell broke loose.

George was grabbing at James’ toy, I was grabbing at George and telling him that James has to be allowed to move his own things around, and poor James was crying because of the sudden chaos. My husband succeeded in arm-wrestling George to a different room, where he tried to engage him in distracting activities. I stayed with James and played with him, but the sparkle had gone. James played half-heartedly while listening to George’s cries coming from a different part of the house.

James gave up on his play and said to me, “Mommy, George can put the toy back if he wants. I love him and I don’t want him to be sad.” He ran out of the room and relayed the message to his Dad. Gerard brought George back in, and George put the toy back in its place with James watching. James kept on telling me that this was what he wanted, but he wasn’t fooling me. I could see the sadness and disappointment in his eyes.

How amazing is this child? Despite my best efforts to equalize things, James does on numerous occasions get the short end of the stick because of George’s autism. And yet he is so brave, so giving and caring. He shows a maturity and wisdom that, while touching me to my very soul, makes me feel really sad. Not to mention the fact that it makes me explode with pride at the caring, sharing person my child is growing up to be.

He’s only five, but in some ways he misses out on being like a regular five-year-old. I want James to be able to play with his toys. I want him to be able to race his cars down that ramp, and I want George to be OK and anxiety-free about it.

I want both of my boys to be happy, and I find it so hard sometimes when one of them is happy at the expense of the other one.

What a tricky balancing act.

Filed Under: Children, Play Tagged With: autism, cars, children, George, James, marathon, play, postaday2011, putting things back, toys

What’s On My Bucket List?

January 29, 2011 By Kirsten

One of my friends recently showed me a list of the things he would like to do before he dies. “See the Eiffel Tower” was one of them. OK, that sounds reasonable. I’m more into the Pyramids myself, but the Eiffel Tower is nice enough.

“Learn to Scuba dive”. “Go skydiving”. Those are pretty good ones, actually.

“Go for a Bungee jump”. I did that once, and when people ask me how it was, I always tell them it is something I’m glad I did once, but that I will never do again. It is a worthy addition to a bucket list.

“Go to the moon”.

OK, my friend lost me there. The moon? I can appreciate that the view must be spectacular from up there, but it’s cold and dark and there are no good places for trail runs. Besides, don’t you make lists in order to be able to cross completed items off? Isn’t that the whole point of a list? Not to put a damper on things, but the chances of my friend going to moon are about the same as my chances of fitting into a size 32B bra.

My own bucket list is not as comprehensive as some other people’s. There are not, say, 100 things that I absolutely have to do before I die. And my list does not include things that I am never likely to achieve. I’d like, for instance, to be a contestant on Hell’s Kitchen, just for the pleasure of telling Gordon Ramsay to piss off, but that’s not on my bucket list because what are the odds of it ever happening?

No, my list contains a few things that I really, really want to do, that are achievable, and that I actually intend to do. Here is a sample of a few of them, in no particular order.

Run a marathon. Someday I will do this. When my kids are a little older, and I am able to devote more time to training, I will get myself into really good shape and run a full marathon. I’m not sure which one, but possibly New York.
Get into full-time writing. This is a long-term plan that will require much planning, but it what I want to do. I have finally realized, at the age of 41, what I actually want to do for a living.
Meet in person the friends I only know online, who are real friends nonetheless. To name a few: Margie, Amy, Kerry, Ray, and quite a number of others.
Travel to the very Northern part of Canada to see Aurora Borealis (a.k.a. Northern Lights). This is a beautiful phenomenon that has always intrigued me, and now I live in a country where it can actually be seen.
Go on a cruise. I’ve never, ever done this, and I’ve always wanted to. Someday I will do it.
Travel to Colorado to meet the parents of my friend Jason who was in North Tower on 9/11. I want to tell them what a wonderful son they had, what a good and true friend he was.
Finish the fictional novel I started writing, AND get it published. It’s a good storyline, really.
Run the Disney Princess Half-Marathon. Happens every year, in Disneyland, at the end of February. And it’s apparently TONS of fun.
Weigh the same as I did when I was 30. OK, so I’m eleven years older now, I’ve had two kids since then, and I had a long period of inactivity that only ended a couple of years ago, but YES, it’s achievable!
Stand on top of Table Mountain with my two boys. Someday I will take my kids to South Africa and show them where I came from. We will go up Table Mountain in the cable car, and we will stand there together feeling like we’re on top of the world.

Filed Under: life, postaday2011 Tagged With: 9/11, Aurora Borealis, bucket list, Disney Princess Half-Marathon, marathon, online friends, postaday2011, running, Table Mountain, writing

Pledging for my Run for Autism can begin!

March 24, 2010 By Kirsten

Today marks an exciting milestone in my journey towards my run for autism. I registered for the race back in November or December – about three seconds after race registrations opened. About a month later, I registered for a number of other races over the course of the summer months – events that I will participate in as I lead up to the main event in September. I have my training plans, my custom orthotics, my training watch with heart rate monitor and GPS. As time goes on, I will need to get some new running gear, including a new pair of shoes.

Today is a milestone day for two reasons. The first is that I since I am not only a runner but a member of the Geneva Centre for Autism committee that is organizing this endeavour, I will be attending the first committee meeting later on. There, we will set our fundraising goals and discuss ways to get more people to participate, either by running or by pledging.I will be a runner’s voice on the committee, offering my views on how to encourage and motivate runners leading up to the event, and ways to ensure their success on the day itself.

And secondly, the race organizers have officially opened up the Charity Challenge, meaning that my own personal fundraising page is now up and running. I invite one and all to click on the link and take a look. Look at the pictures that I’ve uploaded, watch a couple of videos and see the beautiful boy that is my inspiration, my son who I am doing this for. If you are interested in adding a pledge, it will be very gratefully accepted and will make a positive difference to someone with autism.

More pictures and videos will be added to this page as time goes on. But for now, this is what I’ve got. I am so excited that this is all now official!
http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=841310

Filed Under: autism, fundraising, running Tagged With: autism, autistic, fundraising, geneva centre, half-marathon, marathon, pledge, race, running, scotiabank toronto waterfront marathon

Can I do it? Yes, I can!

March 22, 2010 By Kirsten

I was a little nervous about going running yesterday. Since I resumed running after an absence of three months just a week ago, I have been sticking to the somewhat safe distance of 5km. I needed a slightly longer run yesterday,though. I have a fairly full race schedule this year, starting with a 10km race on April 3rd. I cannot run in any of my planned events by doing 5km training runs – it was time to start upping my Sunday run distances.

On the one hand, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for a longer run. The last time I ran more than 6km was three months ago. On the other hand, though, I have learned that long runs are all about the strategy. You have to rely on more than your legs and a good pair of running shoes. You have to plan your approach, and when you’re out on the road you have to listen to your body and interpret the signals. With this in mind, I planned on 8km – not exactly a long run, but longer than anything I’ve done in a while.

To my surprise, it went very well. When I run 5km, I set a brisk pace from the beginning and maintain it as best I can. For my 8km run yesterday, I switched on my “long run” mindset. I started out slow and ran the first kilometre or so at a very easy pace, not caring that the virtual partner on my training watch was streets ahead of me. As I warmed up, my pace gradually increased. I always find it intriguing how that happens. I don’t make any conscious effort to run faster. It just happens. So without putting any effort into it, I ran the second kilometre a full minute faster than the first.

Throughout the run, I did what I always do on long runs – I took a one-minute walking break every ten minutes. I even use this amazingly effective technique (learned from the good folks at Running Room) for races. It would be easy to think that this would slow a runner down, but in truth, I complete my long runs and my races faster by doing this than if I were to run the whole way. Those walking breaks are an opportunity for me to avoid lactic acid buildup in my legs, to let my heart rate drop a little, and to drink some water without having it slosh all over my face. Drinking and running at the same time is not as easy as you might think!

Before I knew it, the 8km was up and I was running back into my driveway. My total time was about a minute and half behind target, and I was very happy with that. Considering the fact that I hadn’t run 8km in months, the fact that I was only a minute and a half behind was pretty good! My pace over the last three kilometres was right on track. And most important – something I aim for on every single run, long or short – when I came to the end of the run I felt as if I could have continued had I so chosen.

So yesterday’s run counts as a resounding success. I now have two weeks to build from 8km to 10km, and then another seven weeks to build to 21km. For the first time in weeks, I am confident that my race schedule is safe. As long as I don’t break a leg or something.

When I finished my run yesterday, I stretched and then went into the house. In the living room, the kids were playing. James, the little brother with a big brother’s role – exuberant, energetic, always with plenty to say. And George, my beautiful boy who is my inspiration every single time I lace up my running shoes.

Whenever I wonder if I can keep on running, all I have to do is picture my boys in my head to know that yes, yes I can. George, touched by autism. And James, sibling to an autistic child. For them, I could do anything.

Filed Under: autism, running Tagged With: autism, autistic, distance running, injury, marathon, race, running, training

Overcoming the bad stuff

March 19, 2010 By Kirsten

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: Medical, running Tagged With: autism, illness, injury, marathon, recovery, running, training