Injury Archives - Running for Autism

Back From The Murky Depths

July 27, 2017 By Kirsten

Welcome, welcome, welcome to my resurrected blog! I’ve been away for a while, just dealing with life. Several things have been getting in the way of blogging lately, like an insane workload, a car accident (everyone is fine) and the odd little mini-crisis here and there. A few updates:

My autism boy is off to high school in the fall! It was sad to say goodbye to the elementary school that gave him such a great start to his education, but we are excited about this next phase in his life. In other news, he is almost fourteen and he’s bigger than me.

My runner boy is – well, he’s running. He’s going into Grade 7 and he’s just closed out his first track and field season. He loved every minute of it and made some great gains, and he’s ready to step up his training and racing to a whole new level. Oh, and when he runs 5K races with me, he leaves me in his dust!

My own running has suffered of late, mostly because of a serious knee injury that I sustained in the most ridiculous way. What happened was, I was going out through the garage to lock the side gate, and I tripped over the lawnmower. I went crash, boom, bang and smashed both knees on the cement floor. My left knee was a little banged up, but it was fine. Unfortunately, I managed to twist my right knee when I fell.

This whole fiasco put me out of running for a good three weeks, which was too bad because I had only just gotten back into it. My knee still hurts when I turn it at certain angles, but it can take impact again, which means I’m back on the road.

One good thing did come out of my knee injury. While I was unable to run, I didn’t want to lose the progress that I had made prior to my fall. So I decided to get my cardio fix in the pool. It had been far too long since my last swim, and I had forgotten just how much I love swimming. Swimming was, in fact, my first athletic love. I swam competitively as a teenager, more years ago than I care to mention. After hurting my knee, I started spending large amounts of time in the pool, and I enjoyed it so much that swimming has become a permanent fixture in my training schedule. I am even starting to think of multi-sport racing.

One final bit of news: I have started a vlog with my runner boy! Check out our channel at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTce260EPfkZ6feFLkr_U5g and subscribe to get our updates!

Filed Under: Children, Injury, life, running, Swimming Tagged With: knee injury, racing, school, track and field, vlog

Electrotherapy TENS Unit: Effective Pain Relief From Omron

July 6, 2015 By Kirsten

Electrotherapy TENS vs. old injury

Over twenty years ago, I sustained a serious injury to my left ankle, and it hasn’t been quite right since. My ankle problems have been such a constant factor in my life that I have christened the offending joint “Ankle of Doom”. It is because of Ankle of Doom that I have permanently abandoned my dream of running a full marathon. Half-marathon training is challenging enough: for at least a week after my long runs, Ankle of Doom puts me through so much pain that I want to weep.

When I was offered a review unit of an Electrotherapy TENS device from Omron, I thought I may as well give it a try. Between Ankle of Doom and the acute pain that has developed in my shoulders as a result of long hours working in front of a computer, I knew that I would be able to give this unit a thorough workout.

TENS stands for Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation. It cannot cure the underlying cause of pain, but it provides temporary relief by preventing the pain message from reaching the brain. Many people who have used TENS therapy have found it to be effective and easy to use.

Compact and easy to use

When my Electrotherapy TENS unit from Omron arrived, I was pleasantly surprised by its size – or lack thereof. The unit is small enough to fit comfortably into my hand, and it is very lightweight. It comes with a belt clip that can be used to attach it to the waistband of almost any clothing, and it feels almost invisible when it’s being worn in this way. This makes it truly portable – there is no need to stay rooted to one spot during your fifteen minute treatments.

The unit is very easy to set up and operate. It runs on two standard AAA batteries which are kept firmly in place by the backing which is removed and reattached with the twist of a coin. It comes with a pair of standard pads complete with a holder, a thin cable with the electrodes (about the thickness and length of the ear buds you use with your iPod), the belt clip, easy-to-follow instructions and a nifty little pouch to store it all in.

There are nine preset modes on the unit. Six allow you to target specific parts of the body (shoulder, lower back, arm, foot, leg, joint), while the other three (tap, knead and rub) are massage modes.

To operate the unit, you simply apply the pads to the part of your body that is hurting, select one of the nine modes, which are clearly labelled on the display, and select the intensity. The intensity can be adjusted at any time during the fifteen minute cycle, and when the time is up, the unit shuts off.

The results

After using the Electrotherapy TENS unit for a couple of weeks, the results are promising. With at least one fifteen-minute treatment per day, the pain in my ankle has been a lot more manageable. I have not had the week-long agony that usually follows long runs. I doubt if I’ll be able to revive my plans to run a full marathon, but I do believe that training for my upcoming half-marathon will be a lot more bearable, and I think that my recovery from the race itself will go a lot more smoothly than usual.

If anything, the unit is a little too effective. It blocks the pain signal so effectively that it is easy to forget that there is a problem, and you run the risk of not being duly cautious of using the affected part of your body. However, combined with rest and whatever other treatment your doctor might recommend, Electrotherapy TENS can make life with an injury a lot more bearable.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. All photos credited to the author.

Disclaimer: A review unit of the Omron Electrotherapy TENS device was provided to me in exchange for an honest review. This post is a true reflection of my experiences to date with this product. The experiences of others may differ. This review is not intended to replace or supplement the advice given by a registered medical professional.

Filed Under: Electrotherapy TENS Unit, Injury, Omron, Product Review, running Tagged With: ankle, half-marathon, pain, training

2:15:00 in 2015

January 12, 2015 By Kirsten

At the beginning of 2014, I had grand plans for my running. I was going to run my first 30K race with a view to building up from there to a full marathon by 2016. I already had eight half-marathons under my belt, so while I knew it would be a challenge, I felt that it would be achievable. I registered for the Around The Bay 30K which takes place in March, and I drew up an ambitious but doable training plan.

The plan got derailed when the Polar Vortex hit. The temperatures were lower than anything I have ever experienced. Even with all of winter running gear, I wouldn’t have been able to handle running in that cold. The bigger obstacle, of course, was the ice. There were sheets of it on the roads and sidewalk that were inches thick in places. Even the most seasoned of winter runners were staying indoors.

As a result, I was forced onto the treadmill for most of my training. I did do a couple of grueling runs in heavy snow, but for the most part, I was clocking up 18K runs and more at the gym. A month before the 30K race, conditions were still too severe for outdoor winter running, and I decided to pull the plug on my training. I did not think it would be wise to attempt my longest ever distance right at the end of the worst winter in recorded history.

I went with Plan B: I sold my bib for Around The Bay and instead registered for the 30K Midsummer Night’s Run, which happens in August. That way, I would have the summer to train in safer conditions.

Enter the Ankle Of Doom. More than 20 years ago, my left ankle was seriously injured. In spite of a lot of medical intervention over the years, it has never really been right since. It always hurts for about 24 hours after a long run, but as long as it recovers quickly, I can live with that one day of pain each week. Except that this summer, when I was running distances of 22K and more, my ankle wasn’t recovering. It was constantly hurting and I developed a semi-permanent limp. When I set out for my long runs each week, I was still in pain from the previous week.

I knew I was pushing myself too hard, but I kept telling myself that it would improve, that all I needed was time for my body to get used to the longer distances. Even though I knew this wasn’t working, I was continuing on with desperate hope.

I was finally forced to face up to reality one day in July, while I was doing 25K along the lakeshore trail. Ankle Of Doom throbbed the entire time throughout the first half of the run. As I reached my turnaround point, I knew I was in trouble. I took a two-minute walking break and then, feeling a little better, I started running slowly again. About 3K later, I was feeling OK, so I decided to kick up my speed a notch. Five minutes later, I felt an almighty twinge in my ankle, as if someone had pulled back on an elastic and then released it.

There was instant agony. I could still put weight on my ankle, but with every step, I felt as if a hot poker was being skewered through my foot. I forced myself to continue: I was on a trail, nowhere near a road, and I did not have the option of calling my husband to come and pick me up. Only 8K to go, I kept telling myself. You can run 8K in your sleep. This is nothing for you.

8K is excruciatingly long when every step feels like torture. My ankle got more and more wobbly after every step, and I knew that if I wasn’t careful, it wouldn’t be able to carry me all the way home. For about 3K, I alternated fifty steps of walking with fifty steps of running. The counting definitely helped – it gave my mind something to focus on other than the pain, and alternating walking with running enabled me to keep going. Those three kilometres or so went a lot more quickly than I thought they had.

But then I reached a point of meltdown. I sank down onto a rock facing the lake and burst into tears. By this point, I had less than 5K to go, so I knew that I would make it home. It would take a while, but I would get there. But the realization hit me that I would have to forego the 30K. I knew that in all likelihood, I would never get to achieve my dream of running a full marathon.

I went through the rest of the season in a kind of haze. I switched my 30K registration to 15K and had a good race, and I ran my autism fundraising half-marathon, which also happened to be my 10th half-marathon. A doctor told me that if I concentrated on rehab exercises for my ankle for the next year, I might be capable of training for a marathon.

But I’ve decided that enough is enough. After having pushed myself very close to the point of not being able to run at all, I have accepted that a marathon is not a viable goal for me. I am proud of the fact that I can run half-marathons – for someone who, let’s face it, is not naturally athletic, that’s quite an accomplishment.

And so instead of hurting myself trying to chase a goal that could permanently disable me from running, I am going to improve on distances that I have already accomplished. I am going to get my 10K time back to under 1:03:00, and I am going to run a sub 30-minute 5K. Best of all, in 2015, I am going to run a half-marathon in under 2:15:00.

As modest as these goals are, I have my work cut out for me. But instead of making me weaker, working toward these targets will make me stronger.

Am I sad about giving up on the marathon dream? Of course I am.

But I would be sadder if pursuing the dream took away my ability to do anything at all.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit: Ludo Rouchy. This picture has a creative commons attribution license.

Filed Under: goals, Half-Marathon, Injury, Marathon, running Tagged With: Ankle of Doom, Around The Bay 30K, challenge, distances, hurting, improve, long run, Midsummer Nights Run, training plan, treadmill, winter

Training Roundup: Conquering Achilles

May 15, 2014 By Kirsten

George with my Scotia 2013 finisher’s medal. He’s the reason I run.

With the Goodlife Toronto Half-Marathon eleven days in the past, my period of ~~sitting on the couch doing sweet eff-all~~ post-race recovery is over. I had a harder time than usual with my recovery, because I wasn’t in top form on the day, and all of the downhill running killed my quads. For four days, I couldn’t walk down stairs without whining like a little girl.

I finally laced up my running shoes again on Tuesday. In a rare departure from the norm, I was actually in the mood for the treadmill at the gym. Tuesday was a rough day – it was the first anniversary of the death of Fran, one of my best friends – and I went through the day in a state of emotional upheaval. I needed the noise and busy-ness of the gym.

I hammered out a fast 5K or so on the treadmill, and it felt surprisingly good, physically and mentally. The exercise helped clear my head, and doing a fast workout with high leg turnover loosened up my muscles. I was back in the groove – or so I thought.

I woke up yesterday morning with pain in my left Achilles tendon. It eased up throughout the morning, but when I tried to walk from my house to the bus stop down the road, I discovered that all I was capable of was a hobble. As I went about my business for the afternoon, things loosened up and I felt OK, but from time to time I’d feel that Achilles tendon nagging at me.

I came home and iced it, and resolved to rest for at least two days. The last thing I want, as I head into the next phase of my training, is a torn Achilles tendon. The next phase of my training is going to be very intensive as I work on both speed and mileage, and I need to be in the best form possible. I don’t have time to be messing around with injuries, so I’d rather just rest up properly now instead of letting things get worse.

While I’m resting, I will be planning out the training schedule that will get me from here to my Big Race of the season: the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront half-marathon on October 19th. My calendar this year includes a distance that I have not attempted before – 30K – but my ultimate goal is to get a personal best time at the Scotiabank half-marathon. That is my autism run, my opportunity to do my small part in making the world a better place for my son and other kids with autism. All of the other races throughout the summer are training runs to prepare me for the big event. It is on October 19th that I really want to shine.

So here I sit, with ice wrapped around my ankle and a calendar in front of me, figuring out a schedule that will help me go further and faster. I will also be searching for ways to fuel my body better, and that quest will include a mission to find a healthy cheesecake recipe. Because – you know – cheesecake.

What are your health and fitness goals for the summer? If you’re a runner, what is your “A” race this season? And do you have any healthy cheesecake recipes?

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

Filed Under: Injury, Race, running, Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Races, Training Tagged With: Achilles tendon, autism run, calendar, cheesecake, distance, Goodlife Toronto half-marathon, half-marathon, mileage, post-race recovery, speed, training schedule, treadmill

Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Half-Marathon: 2012 Run For Autism

October 17, 2012 By Kirsten

It is raining and I am starting to get cold. I have already surrendered my jacket to the baggage check tent, so I am standing in this foul weather with shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt. There is no shelter and the only thing keeping the rain off my face is the peak of my hat. This is good. I cannot abide water on my face. The line-up for the Porta-potties – a standard feature of the starting area of every race – inches forward too slowly.

Soon I will be toeing the start line of my fourth Run for Autism, and I feel more than a little emotional as I think about the reason I am running this race. Every mile is dedicated to a child with autism, but really, this run is for all kids with autism everywhere.

I wrap my arms around myself and shiver, both from cold and anticipation.

It is starting to rain harder.

The morning of the race was a little chaotic, made worse by the rain. We had circled around city blocks for about forty minutes in search of somewhere affordable to park. As a result, my designated warm-up time was taken up by the Porta-potty line, and when I had done what I needed to do there, I warmed up by jogging from the Porta-potties to my place in the start line. The massive scale of this event meant that this was a reasonable jog – enough for me to satisfy myself that my tight left leg and niggling back pain wouldn’t hinder me during the race. At some point right before the race started, I noticed that the rain had let up, and the conditions were now perfect for a run.

A fair distance ahead of me, I heard the starting siren go off, signalling the release of the runners in the first corral. My friend and coach Phaedra was somewhere in that group, and I silently sent good wishes to her through the ether. I knew that by the time I crossed the start line, Phaedra would have done at least two kilometres, possibly closer to three.

The siren went off again, and the second wave of runners was off. My corral was next, and I shuffled forward with the crowd. Just as the anticipation was building up to an unbearable level, the announcer counted down to the start, the siren went, and we were off.

The course was different this year. In prior years, half-marathoners ran down to the Lakeshore and stayed there for most of the out-and-back route. This time round, the route took us around more of the city streets before turning onto Lakeshore. I like some variety in my routes, and I really enjoyed the changes.

For the first few kilometres, I comfortably stayed ahead of my target pace. I restrained myself from going out too hard, and I felt good. I had initially pondered the idea of running with a pace bunny, but I quickly dismissed that idea. I always worry that if I run with a bunny I will be running their race, when I really should be running my race. This season in particular, I have become a lot better at running smarter as well as faster, so I really didn’t need to pace myself against another runner.

Which is why I am somewhat baffled that when I unexpectedly found myself alongside the 2:10 bunny just before the halfway mark, I decided to stay with him. I was so caught up in the excitement of the day, and at that point I was feeling strong, and those two factors together probably sent any sense of logic out the window. As good as I was feeling, I had never intended to run this race at a 2:10 pace.

It worked for about 3K, but then I started to fade. I drifted to the other side of the road and let the bunny go, and for the next 5K or so, I was able to maintain my original pace.

The bad news is that the damage had been done. My efforts to stay with the pace bunny had made my tight left leg flare up, and the nagging little pain in the small of my back started to extend down my left buttock, where it intersected with the pain in my leg.

The good news is that by this point I only had 2K to go. My body was screaming at me to stop. I felt as if my leg was on fire, but the thought of all of those kids with autism, including my own child, kept me going. I was going to stop at nothing to finish this race.

The final kilometre can only be described as agony. My left leg was actually twitching and I was running at a limp. The finish line kick that I usually pride myself on was replaced with a series of stops and starts, but I did still manage to run across the finish line.

If victories are made sweeter by how hard you work for them, then this one was the sweetest of them all. Of all the half-marathons I have done, this one was definitely the hardest.

In spite of how tough those last kilometres had been, I still ran a personal best, crossing the finish line in a time of 2:17:31. I actually cried as the finisher’s medal was placed around my neck.

Tears of pain. Tears of joy. And most of all, tears of love for my son who is my inspiration.

(Photo credit: Kirsten Doyle)

Filed Under: Half-Marathon, Injury, Race, running, Running for Autism, Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Races Tagged With: agony, autism, finish line, left leg, pace bunny, personal best, rain, start-line

Band-Aids and Autism: How my Son Saved the Day

July 1, 2012 By Kirsten

Several nights ago, right after lecturing my younger son James about keeping fingers away from sharp objects, I sliced my thumb open on the lid of a freshly opened can of tuna.

I made a run for the bathroom and held my profusely-bleeding hand over the sink while James trailed in saying, “Mommy, you really should learn to be more careful.”

I really should, indeed. I’m not at all sure how this even happened. What I do know is that the amount of blood was startling. It was a deep cut, right across the soft padded part of my thumb. I wasn’t really sure what to do about it. I had a full box of Band-Aids, but I didn’t think they would do a great job of stemming the flow. I was out of gauze pads, and George had surreptitiously used up all of my surgical tape to stick bits of paper to other bits of paper.

As I stood at the bathroom sink stupidly watching my blood go down the drain, George – eight years old and autistic – came in with the box of Band-Aids, that he had gotten out of the cupboard without anyone asking him to. He started unwrapping Band-Aids and wrapping them around my thumb. They were instantly getting soaked, but George kept at it, adding Band-Aids down the entire length of my thumb. Eventually, my thumb was trussed up in about twenty Band-Aids. It looked absolutely ridiculous, but the bleeding was contained.

George then added an extra-special touch: he took my hand, and lightly kissed my Band-Aided thumb.

It’s hard to say what aspect of this whole incident is most significant.

George, autism and all, responded immediately and appropriately to what he saw as an emergency. This child, who gets totally freaked out at the sight of blood, showed no more than a little bit of mild distress. He managed to stay completely calm as he bandaged me up. He quietly took charge of the situation in a way that astounded me. The kiss demonstrated tenderness and empathy – just the kind of bedside manner that someone with a fresh injury needs.

It makes me think that I should start teaching him First Aid. If this incident is anything to go by, George seems to have that instinct of calmly wanting to help when someone gets hurt. It could serve us well to empower him to help in situations like this, starting on a small scale, of course. I wouldn’t expect my eight-year-old to perform CPR, but if he had the tools to handle minor First Aid emergencies, that could be good not only for his potential patients, but for himself.

Do you think George’s response to this situation might be evidence of some instinct that he naturally has? What opportunities do you think might arise from this?

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/honan/3779689068/)

Filed Under: autism, Emergency, First Aid, Injury Tagged With: autism, Band-Aids, blood, calmness, empathy, first aid, injured thumb, instinct

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

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