Guest Spot Regarding Knees

The following is by Jenn Harrison. She belongs to Nik, whom I've hiked Half Dome with. Both are quality people who I like and admire. When Jenn gives advice, I sit up and pay attention.

Gorgeous photo courtesy of Facebook, the bastards.

As a fellow knee surgery survivor, I have been reading your blog on preparing for the Long Beach Marathon. I'll admit that at first, I was very frightened. Having been through my own knee recovery, I thought that trying to run a marathon within the first year of knee surgery was foolish and deserving of a new painful injury. I was seriously worried for you, and thought, "I must convince him to give up. He is going to hurt himself and if I don't tell him, I will be partially to blame."


So I was being a little overdramatic. Over time, I realized that your knee is not my knee, and your injury is not mine. I was fearful that you would, like I did, start running on your knee before it was healthy. That you would also, like I did, injure your knee and other parts of your leg because the rest of your body would try to compensate for your weak knee in ways it wasn't supposed to. I was worried that you push through the pain, thinking no pain, no gain, and foolishly extend the time it took to heal, like me.


However, after reading your blog you seem to have a more mature attitude towards your recovery than I did. My injures will never fully heal. I could never run a marathon. Not because I'm a wuss, or because I don't have a positive enough attitude, or I just won't try hard enough. Running for that long of a distance would just take years off the life of my knee. More than I want to run, I want to be healthy, and running a marathon or playing soccer are both activities that hurt my body in more ways than it can help.


Not that you asked for it, or that you even need it, here is my advice. Listen to your body, and make "preparing for a marathon" your goal, as opposed to "run the Long Beach Marathon this year." Giving yourself a firm date of when your knee should be fully healed may force you to push yourself harder than is necessary or helpful. It is often at that moment when I pushed myself too far, thinking that I "should" be able to do it, that I injured my knee, or hip muscles much worse and more painfully than I thought possible.


Some good advice I have received: "While in recovery, do half of what you think you can do. Then wait 24 hrs and see how you feel. If you feel good, then you know you can do a little more, but our bodies often take that long to fully process the effects of our actions." There is a constant conversation between our bodies and our brain and the more in tune we are the better we can help ourselves. I do yoga for that reason, but whatever you feel helps you the most is what you should do. Don't ignore any pain or weird pops; there is always a reason for why those things happen and ignoring them could cause you more pain later.


As someone who has been where you are, please feel free to reach out and ask me anything about knee therapy. And I thank you for allowing me to send you this email. Really, this email is more for my 16 year old self, dealing with a major knee injuring in the middle of my high school soccer career. If you think I'm totally off base, that fine and I understand. I know that even if my 16 year old self had read this email, I probably wouldn't have done anything different. That's the thing about 16 year olds, they think they are indestructible.


I hope you heal well and quickly and have a healthy knee on which to run.

You see why I think so highly of her? She's great, and Nik's lucky to have her. Now, let's see if I can address some of this.

First, Jenn, you're dead right. If I had hurt myself again, it would be your fault. I would love you significantly less.

But you're right: my injury isn't the same as yours, and I am a bit more mature than you were when you were 16 and injured. Not by much, but every little bit counts. When I was down, it was the worst thing in the world, and I'm determined not to be down again. So I'm back at the gym, doing my exercises. I'm starting out on an elliptical instead of running on a treadmill or track. I feel like a total wimp, but that's because I am a total wimp. Or, rather, my knee is. 

Your advice is really good. Do half. I like that advice. I feel like I've been sort of doing that already, but not on purpose. It's been a lot less formal, and more gut-oriented, but it rings true.

As for going to long, far, and fast, you're dead right there, too. I'm a little paranoid. I just don't want to hurt again. A marathon is a great goal, and it really is what I want to do. But not if it's the last thing I do. 

I sincerely want to run a marathon. My life's resumé sort of demands it. The goal is the Long Beach Marathon. The goal is this marathon because if I aim for 2012, that gives me an entire year to screw off. I'd rather pull out a month ahead of time —while improving my knee at the gym —than allow myself to do nothing for a year and a half. 

I'm pretty sure that makes sense. You'll let me know.

Hey, as long as I'm here, everyone should know that Jenn deserves at least a tiny bit of credit for me starting yoga this weekend with Cassandra.

The Best Training Partner I Know Of

That's right: the iPod Shuffle. And I'll tell you why.

First, most people like to listen to music while running, biking, or working out in general. It helps us keep focus. Plus, I'd rather listen to Anthrax than my own breathing. You ever listen to yourself breathe while running? It's harrowing.

And let's face it, the music they play at the gym is comical. Last time at the gym, in that gap between really heavy Testament songs, I heard snippets of such insipid top-40 crap, even though I made a mental note to remember what that one song was, it's gone now. I cannot imagine trying to lift weights listening to Lady Gaga. That would inspire me to stay the eff home.

iPod Shuffles, from the second generation on, have a built-in clip. There's a healthy after market accessory business for watch bands and arm bands and other similar stuff, but I just clip the iPod to my waist band on my shorts, route the earbuds under my shirt, and am good. This works for me while running, cycling, and gymming, no problem.

An iPod Shuffle is tiny and cheap. Buying a brand new one from Apple will set you back $50. People don't think about this properly, by the way. They (you) think "$50 just for a tiny little iPod?! WTF." But they (you) think wrong.

What they (you) should be thinking is, "what will it take to get me out there running, cycling, or lifting weights? Will an iPod help make doing these (good) things easier? Will it cut down on the number of obstacles in my way? Is [losing weight/getting into shape/staying healthy/staying alive] something I value? Will $50 help me achieve this goal?"

It's why when people own and use iPods but buy an Android phone makes me crazy. Android phones check a bunch of stuff off a list: email, web browser, music, texting. But none of it works well, and getting your music from iTunes, which you already use, onto your Android phone isn't easy. You're doing yourself a disservice. Why? The difference of $100? For a phone you're going to have at minimum one year (an extra $8.33 per month), probably closer to two ($4.16 per month)?

People, we need to be talking ourselves into doing what's best for us over the long term, not saving a few dollars and getting something sorta kinda ok.

After all, there's no better phone at any cost than the iPhone. Don't settle for something stupid.

And the same goes for the iPod Shuffle. There's nothing as good or as easy at any cost, especially since you're already using iTunes for all your music needs. Just plug it in, drag some songs, and go lift weights.

Lego Stormtrooper for scale.

That's my red, second-generation iPod Shuffle. 1GB. No playlists. Effective weight of zero. Best friend.

Of course, there are reasons not to get one. You already have an iPod Nano, for instance. Those are pretty good for working out. A little on the heavy side. They require a $20 (at minimum) arm-band, though. And in my experience, when you've got choices and buttons and a screen, you've got an excuse to screw around and mess with stuff and not lift weights. Maybe you're different, but that's my experience.

The other reason not to get one is... I'm not sure. Maybe you work out in your basement and have a nice stereo set up already. That'd be a good reason. But if you can work out in your own basement and have your own music, you're not really the intended audience of this blog post anyway.

I'm gonna keep saying this till I'm blue in the face and you all understand it: when the good choice is the easy choice, we all do good. Eliminate reasons not to do good, and you'll do good. Talk yourself into the good thing, and don't settle for something janky you'll have to replace with what you should have got in the first place.

Inertia: I've Got the Ball Rolling

This poster hangs in the free-weights room of my new gym.

I joined the gym yesterday. It's got everything I need and want, and a lot of stuff I don't know or care about besides.

The gym is called Kennedy Club Fitness, and while I think it's silly for a gym to have beer on tap, the beer is one of the best local beers there is.

Plus, their pool facilities are extensive, and there are at least five different machines that my knee is already benefitting from. This is important because the whole point of this blog is my training to run a marathon.

So: the cardio room is well-equipped with treadmills, stationary bikes, and ellipticals. And TVs. God, so many TVs. One major disadvantage to "running" indoors is the view never changes and TV is distracting. It's really canned running. I don't like it, but I like the way it makes my body feel, and I need it if I'm gonna do a marathon. But I hope I can graduate to running on the track at the high school (¼-mile) or gym (¹⁄₅-mile) sooner than later. It's really hard to zen out when you're being bombarded by TV.

On the other hand, I can put movies or TV shows on my iPhone and watch them on some of the smaller screens attached to some of the machines. It might not be so bad if I'm watching what I want to watch.

Kennedy in Atascadero also has this sort of "free-weight machines" room. To adjust the weight on any of them, you pick up and move big cast iron plates and put them in place. But they're all attached to arms and pivots so it's sort of half free-weight, half weight machine. And all killer.

Last night's workout was more error than trial, but I think I'm dialing it in. It turns out I need to be using machines on all three(!) floors of the gym, in all but one of the equipment rooms. Plus, I'll be swimming sometimes, too. I like triathlons a lot, you see.

I'm feeling wonderfully sore this morning. I don't feel tore up, I feel worked out. It's a great feeling, and I love it. I'm taking today off, since yesterday was my first time to a gym in over two months. Give my body a little time to acclimate. But I'm developing habits here. And muscle tone.

My First Big Ride in a While

I haven't been for a run in a long time, and I'm not quite ready to. But I need to get working on my cardiovascular system since that's arguably the most important part of your body during a marathon.

Last week, I got on the rowing machine, which was both satisfying and disappointing. This week—I just got home in fact—I went for a bike ride. Twenty miles, my first long one in a long time.

It was wonderful, and I learned a lot.

I averaged 17 miles per hour on this ride. I am shocked by this number. It's faster than I had any reasonable hope of going, especially when you look at everything I did wrong.

First, I was riding my utility bike. This thing is a 1992 Specialized Stumpjumper mountain bike I've converted to an urban utility bike. It's got 1¼-inch semi slick tires, a flat mountain-bike style bar with bolt on road-bike style drops. It's got a 1x7 drivetrain—1 chainring in the front, 7 gears in the back—with a mountain-bike index shifter up on the bar.

Basically, it's a bike with heavier-duty tires than a road-bike should have, the bars keep my hands wider apart than they'd be on a road bike. It effectively made me a sail. And moving my hands all around to shift gears made me appreciate index shifting—where the shifters are integrated into the brake levers—a lot more.

And the fact I was wearing a long sleeved cotton t-shirt and cargo shorts meant I wasn't a sail, but about three sails.  And the iPhone in the cargo pocket kept banging into my knee. That was uncomfortable.

And then the wind. That's a major difference between running and cycling: the amount of air going past me. When I run, I don't really feel the air unless there's a breeze. Cycling, air is actually something of an enemy. In addition, if you're riding when I was, at dusk, the air gets pretty cold. I found myself wishing for a sweater-vest.

Another major difference between cycling and running is the ability to check out. When running, I can lose whole miles to non-thought. Some folks talk about a runner's high, but I think in terms of a runner's zen. Much harder to get that on a bike. The gears don't shift themselves, after all, and you have to pay attention to the road and drivers and similar.

And drivers: it's ok to turn your brights off for us cyclists. We'd even be grateful.

The last major difference I can think of is when I was running on the golf course, there were obviously no cars. There was a creek, though, and it'd get smelly. Still, I'd rather have the creek at the height of its smelliness than the cleanest gasoline-burning car as my road-mate.

Obviously, there's a lot I can do to have a better ride next time: put the phone into a canister that goes into a water bottle cage, wear closer-fitting shorts, and a base layer of wicking long-sleeve shirt with a t-shirt over it as a windbreaker.

Oh, and get a proper road bike.

Honestly, that I did as well as I did even though I stacked the deck against myself is pretty heartening. If I fixed all the stuff I just complained about, my average speed would go through the roof and I'd be a force to be reckoned with.

Also, it's brought me a step closer to where I need to be for my marathon.

My First Big Ride in a While

I haven't been for a run in a long time, and I'm not quite ready to. But I need to get working on my cardiovascular system since that's arguably the most important part of your body during a marathon.

Last week, I got on the rowing machine, which was both satisfying and disappointing. This week—I just got home in fact—I went for a bike ride. Twenty miles, my first long one in a long time.

It was wonderful, and I learned a lot.

I averaged 17 miles per hour on this ride. I am shocked by this number. It's faster than I had any reasonable hope of going, especially when you look at everything I did wrong.

First, I was riding my utility bike. This thing is a 1992 Specialized Stumpjumper mountain bike I've converted to an urban utility bike. It's got 1¼-inch semi slick tires, a flat mountain-bike style bar with bolt on road-bike style drops. It's got a 1x7 drivetrain—1 chainring in the front, 7 gears in the back—with a mountain-bike index shifter up on the bar.

Basically, it's a bike with heavier-duty tires than a road-bike should have, the bars keep my hands wider apart than they'd be on a road bike. It effectively made me a sail. And moving my hands all around to shift gears made me appreciate index shifting—where the shifters are integrated into the brake levers—a lot more.

And the fact I was wearing a long sleeved cotton t-shirt and cargo shorts meant I wasn't a sail, but about three sails.  And the iPhone in the cargo pocket kept banging into my knee. That was uncomfortable.

And then the wind. That's a major difference between running and cycling: the amount of air going past me. When I run, I don't really feel the air unless there's a breeze. Cycling, air is actually something of an enemy. In addition, if your'e riding when I was, at dusk, the air gets pretty cold. I found myself wishing for a sweater-vest.

Another major difference between cycling and running is the ability to check out. When running, I can lose whole miles to non-thought. Some folks talk about a runner's high, but I think in terms of a runner's zen. Much harder to get that on a bike. The gears don't shift themselves, after all, and you have to pay attention to the road and drivers and similar.

And drivers: it's ok to turn your brights off for us cyclists. We'd even be grateful.

The last major difference I can think of is when I was running on the golf course, there were obviously no cars. There was a creek, though, and it'd get smelly. Still, I'd rather have the creek at the height of its smelliness than the cleanest gasoline-burning car as my road-mate.

Obviously, there's a lot I can do to have a better ride next time: put the phone into a canister that goes into a water bottle cage, wear closer-fitting shorts, and a base layer of wicking long-sleeve shirt with a t-shirt over it as a windbreaker.

Oh, and get a proper road bike.

Honestly, that I did as well as I did even though I stacked the deck against myself is pretty heartening. If I fixed all the stuff I just complained about, my average speed would go through the roof and I'd be a force to be reckoned with.

Also, it's brought me a step closer to where I need to be for my marathon.

My God, I've Gotten Out of Shape

I spent about half an hour on the rowing machine yesterday, and while it felt good and was a step in the right direction, it was also pretty harmful to my ego.

It's only been a month, and I'm out of shape.

I'm fat again. I know I look thin, but but as per my last post, I want to look good naked. So if you hop onto a rowing machine, a machine upon which you exercise in a sitting position, if you've got any belly at all, it gets in the way and really becomes your body's only feature.

Like I was going to add a photo of me on a rowing machine. 

The other thing is I was doing chinups and pushups pretty religiously. Then I stopped. I guess I got bored of it. A session on a rowing machine has always been purely cardio work, and has never made my arms ache. Until yesterday.

Again, it was a really good time on the machine, but it really pointed out some horrible deficiencies I've allowed into my life.

When I was in Denver, my day went like this:

• Wake up. Eat a yogurt and a piece of fruit.
• Go to work. At lunch, eat a badass sandwich and fruit. Drink only water and coffee.
• Around 4pm, eat another piece of fruit.
• Get off work at 5pm, go to the gym, lift weights, then cardio.
• Go home, eat dinner. A grilled sandwich, a can of soup, you get the idea.
• Drink bourbon.

It's time to get back to this. Today, I ate yogurt and fruit for breakfast. I've never had a problem drinking water at work because I've got my beloved Camelbak Better Bottle sitting on my desk.¹

Lunch today will be a badass sandwich, Denver-style: sliced tomato, Smart Deli vegetarian "turkey", muenster cheese. 

I'll probably have an orange later in the day. 

The main difference between now and Denver is the 90 - 120 minutes in the gym at 5pm. My solution: push-ups and a bike ride then chin-ups until I can afford a gym membership.²

There are a few different "how to do 100 pushups" programs out there. I like this one because the instructions are such that anyone can do it. Painting with broad strokes, girls don't do a lot of pushups, so having all the graphics be of girls is pretty cool, pretty inclusive. And they have a smartphone (iOS, Android, Windows Phone 7) app. And their paper and pen version is well designed.

Would anyone like to join the 100-push-ups-club with me?

How does this apply to a marathon? That should be obvious. Duh.

——————

1: I got this one at the Goodwill for $3.25. It says "Tackett" on it. 

2: If they didn't charge a startup fee, they could have had my business for the last three months. I'd love to look at the books and see if they're practicing good business.

'I Want to Look Good Naked'

A concept I've been sort fixetated on a lot lately is the idea of life's resume.

It's a lot like a bucket list, except you don't have to get cancer first.

Put another way, life's resume is stuff you do that's worth noting. Achievements or milestones that stand out, that most other people haven't done. Boring examples might include getting married, having kids, graduating from college, winning employee of the month, or similar.

I've got a couple of cool resume items under my belt: I once quit a job on the spot. I've peed directly into an open septic tank and off a cliff. I told a fellow customer I was in line with she was an asshole when she was being an asshole to the checker. I've done a triathlon. I've hiked to the tip-top of Half Dome.

I want to run 26.2 miles in under four hours in a measured competition because, statistically speaking, you never will.

A marathon is hard. Everyone won't do one because everyone can't do one. Everyone should be able to, but everyone should be able to make good judgements that keep them off the TV show COPS, too.

Here's the other thing: I'm physically attracted to runners. Short or tall, people who run as a lifestyle choice are generally more attractive to me than folks who don't. I want to be the kind of attractive I'm attracted to.

Yeah. That's Kevin Spacey in American Beauty, a movie about un-giving up. I feel like we live in a culture that's just given up. Attractiveness is for movie stars, not for normals. And totally aside from the health benefits of running, runners just look better naked.

I have three goals associated with my first marathon: get a cool item on my life's resume, work hard at looking good naked, and the shorter-term goal of finishing in under four hours. I really want my time to have a 3 at the beginning. It can be 3:59:59, and I'll be thrilled. I'll forgive myself up to 4:15, but I really want that less-than-four-hours notch on my belt.