Exercisers Anonymous

It's been 28 days since my last workout.

I can imagine that this is what going through withdrawal feels like. I am crawling out of my skin with restlessness. Exercise is my tension reliever, my daily meditation, a feeling of strength and endurance. I can't run, lift, cycle, climb, jump or do anything that will put strain on my back.

Walking has become my new exercise. It's the only thing I have been given approval to do physically, so I walk. Walk to work, walk during lunch, walk to the store. I try not to think about the fact that I have taken 28 days off of my marathon training. The more I consider it, the more I think that I will have to pass on the marathon this year. I'm so disappointed, but the risk of jumping back into the grueling training as soon as I'm given clearance is not worth it. The physical pain is not worth it.

Taking a step back from exercising has been both positive and negative. I feel like a sloth, slower in my movements because of the pain and protective instincts. The energy I get from working out is missing. At work I feel like I'm being teased all day, members getting on and off cardio equipment without any hesitation, weights being thrown around without any concern of the possibility of injury. I've become the strange gym goer who just does stretches.

On the other hand, I've never been so respectful and patient of my own body. As a fitness professional, I've always pushed myself past normal limitations. Triathlons, teaching several classes in a day, overtraining for races. Push through the pain was my exercise credo.

Taking a step back, or being forced to, has given me perspective about honoring my body. As I get older, I can't expect myself to be able to continue to exercise to the extent that I have in my 20's. I've been forced to consider a more reasonable balance. Working out doesn't have to mean killing myself for at least 60 minutes a day. While both extremes don't seem to be working for me, I will have to reevaluate a balance that includes exercise as a part of my life, but not the main focus.

Going cold turkey wouldn't have been my first choice, but if I can't learn a lesson from this injury, then I'm bound to repeat it. The marathon will be there next year.

Never trust a skinny chef?

As my pain kept me contained to my bed for the majority of the past week, I started to worry not only about the personal health challenges I've set out for myself, but about my professional future in the fitness industry.

Whenever I suffer any kind of injury, my worry turns quickly to my livelihood. I often get caught up in a snowball of a daydream, picturing myself in bed for months, unable to work, gaining weight at a rapid pace, with an at-home nurse changing my bed sore bandages.

My thinking is extreme, I'll admit it, but I do worry about my physical fitness and how setbacks like these will affect how I look, feel and function on a day to day basis. My workouts are very routine and fairly rigorous. While that might be part of what got me to my current state, it's also an uncomfortable feeling not to be able to stay in that routine. Working out is part of who I am, part of my body's effort to rid toxic imbalances, the most natural therapy for my state of mind, and uplifting for my energy and spirit.

In the fitness industry, I sometimes think about what came first - the proverbial chicken or the egg? Did someone that looked fit start telling people what to do to get fit, or did someone with knowledge and research tell those people what to do to get those people looking fit? I see it every day in my job - members want to workout with the trainer that looks the most fit. The trainer's approach may be unconventional, unsafe, or unwarranted. But they look good damn it, they must be doing something right, right?

There's where I start to worry about my own career. If I'm injured and can't workout, will I start to lose muscle mass, start to gain unwanted pounds? Just because I still have the same knowledge, skill set, and coaching style, will that mean that my clients will still want to work with me? If I can't demonstrate a movement, if I can't lift enough weight, if I don't look the part, what does that say about me as a professional in the health and wellness industry?

Is trusting an out of shape personal trainer/spinning instructor/pilates instructor/fitness director the equivalent to trusting a skinny chef? Trusting a used car salesman? Trusting an IT guy that doesn't wear glasses?

I'm not insinuating that I look like Jillian Michaels (I wish!), or that anyone really wants to work out with me in the shape I was in two weeks ago. But two weeks ago members could see me working out, training for races, teaching classes. Now I will sit in my office, wearing my back brace, putting out orders for equipment to be purchased and budget goals to be met. Sitting on conference calls and doing payroll. I could be doing that in any job. I chose health and wellness to make a difference in people's lives. I can only hope that my own physical challenges don't get in the way.

A day at the ER

My back pain continued to worsen on Sunday night. I took enough medicine to get me through the night, and decided to call the doctor first thing in the morning to figure out what was going on with me back.

Through choked back tears I called my general care practitioner, she could get me in, and then send me to a specialist to determine what steps to take next. This was not an option for me. I tried calling my orthopedic spine doctor, who was not in the Chicago office on Mondays, but I could travel to Elmhurst to see her. The mere thought of getting in a car was terrifying, let alone gallivanting around the city or state looking for a solution. It seemed that with my level of pain being at a 10, that my only option was to go to the Emergency Room.

I called my friend Lena in tears, with her nursing background and current job in medical sales, I knew she'd know where to take me. She picked me up and took me to the ER at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. The ride there felt like days, every turn and bump sending shocks to my spine. I finally got into the ER, and waited to be seen by the doctor.

As soon as I was laying down in a curtained off room, the doctor asked me questions about my pain, my history, anything to help them understand what was going on. They immediately gave me an iv with pain medicine, and my pain went down from a 10 to a level 8, which was a much needed relief. They scheduled an xray for me and I tried to stay somewhat comfortable as I waited. I was in and out of sleep as they wheeled me to the xray room.

After my xray results came back, the doctor came to let me know that they were going to discharge me, as the xray showed no sign of skeletal damage. He said it was most likely muscular and that I was to rest and if I experienced the pain for several days then he would prescribe a MRI. I vehemently objected and demanded that they do an MRI while I was there. I knew that the pain I was feeling was different than any muscular strain or spasm I had ever felt in my back.

I received another dose of medicine in my iv, and was told it could be up to 5 hours before they got me in for the MRI. I told them I'd wait, what was the difference for me, either wait in pain there or go home in pain not knowing what was going on with my back.

I was woken up two hours later to be rolled to the MRI center. I was groggy and let them move me between beds and move me into the MRI tube while the buzzing, banging and clicking started. 30 minutes later they pulled me out and rolled me back to my holding room. I fell asleep again and was woken up by another doctor. She informed me that the MRI showed two bulging disks, between l4/l5 and l5/s1. This finally explained my pain, but I had a handful of new concerns.

I asked a number of questions:

Is this reversible? No

What caused this? Unknown

What were my options? If the pain worsens over time, surgery. Otherwise, physical/occupational therapy.

How long would this level of pain last? Unknown

Is bulging disks the same as herniated disks? Not sure

Were they bulging anterioraly or posteriorly? Unknown, I would need to see a specialist for these questions.

Finally, I asked it. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer. "Can I still run?" She looked at me and smiled. She said eventually yes, that the worst thing I could do for my back would be to stop exercising. She said walking would be recommended at first, and that any kind of heavy lifting, sports with sudden movements and jumping were pretty much out.

They asked me to wait in the waiting room for my ride, again I insisted that I could not sit or stand and would need to stay lying down until my ride came. They needed the room so they rolled me into the hallway to wait. The pain medicine finally got to me and I vomited in the hallway where dozens of nurses, doctors and patients were buzzing by.

Alicia picked me up, I got home and have been taking pain meds, muscle relaxers and nausea pills every 6 hours as directed. I am terrified about the prospect of surgery and what the future holds for my back. My profession depends on my movement. I'll just take it one day at a time. For now, my movement is limited and pain is steady. Hope to update you with good news soon.

Pain is temporary, MS is forever

Missing the ride this weekend was upsetting, for a number of reasons. I organized the team, I trained for the ride, but most of all - I get my highs from completing events that push your physical capabilities to the limits.

My back pain continued on Friday night as I drove to Batavia to stay with friends for the weekend. We had a pasta dinner with our friends that were riding, and although my back was still sore, I was confident that one more night's rest would alleviate some of the pain. I woke up on Saturday and felt slightly better, but still grateful that I didn't bring my bike knowing that I would have wanted to attempt riding a short distance.

After seeing the riders off at 7:00am, I drove 35 miles to see my good friends, The Murray's, who recently moved to St. Charles. I knew I would be bored waiting for hours at the tent while the riders finished, and wanted to stay comfortable with a bed close by in case I needed to lay down. Around 9:30am we started getting calls from the riders that the routes were being closed down due to thunderstorms. After a few chaotic calls, we located all of my close friends, who had found shelter at barns, garages, and even in a ditch. Everyone was safe and the ride was cancelled for the day.

The gang came out to the Murray's to enjoy the pool, some beers and dinner together. My back was still stiff, but I kept convincing myself that one more night and I'd be back to normal. We finally staggered off to bed, and I decided I'd try a night without any pain killers.

I woke up around 8:30am on Sunday, with the pain paralyzing me. Again I couldn't roll over, and had to toss my legs to the side of the bed just to get up. I noticed the pain had moved from my lower back down to my tailbone, the feeling was reminiscent of falling when I broke my back 2 years ago in a rollerblading accident. I staggered to the bathroom and hobbled downstairs to the couch. I took some medicine and fell asleep for a couple more hours.

The rest of the crew had left hours earlier for the second day of the ride. The skies were overcast with hazy clouds, but there was no rain or storms to keep them from accomplishing at least part of the mileage they had set out to complete. My pain had increased and I finally broke down. Walking was unthinkable, sitting was excruciating, even lying down was painful, but the lesser of the three evils. I made a few phone calls to reach out for help.

I hadn't considered seeing a doctor yet. Unfortunately, the reasoning was financial. My insurance has an unreasonable deductible, one that I couldn't rationalize paying for a medical professional to tell me that I have muscle spasms that can only be alleviated with pain medication and rest. But at this point, the pain was such that I figured I didn't have much of a choice. On a Sunday however, there isn't much I could do.

The riders finished their routes and arranged to come back to the Murray's to pick me up and drive my car back to the city. Lucky for me, my friends pulled through to help me get back in one (bent over) piece. So here I lay on my couch, considering how to move and how I will get to the doctor's office in the morning.

The pain is debilitating. Not only could I not ride the Bike MS, by the end of the weekend here I am, I can't walk, sit or practically move without feeling sharp pain equivalent to a knife sticking into my spine. I lay here thinking about my future. What if I can't train for the marathon? What if I can't walk for weeks? What if they don't figure out what's wrong with my back? What if I continue to have back pain for the rest of my life? What if I can't work - my job is directly impacted by my ability to move.

Then I considered why I started the Bike MS team in the first place. People living with MS face much greater fears daily. Fears like what if I can't walk for the rest of my life? What if I go blind? What if my life ends because of a disease that there is no cure for? My pain is the worst I have felt in my entire life. But I don't know the kind of pain that people living with MS feel.

So I will chose to accept the weekend's events. I will take my injury one day at a time to find out what I can do to treat the pain and prevent further complications. I will take care of my body in the best possible way, and be thankful that my pain and fears are not worse than they are. And I will continue to put my energy and physical efforts towards events like the Bike MS, so that one day we can find a cure for diseases that are much more painful, debilitating and life altering than I will ever understand.

"Backing" out

This weekend is the Bike MS, a 175 mile, 2 day bike through the country roads of Illinois. Last year I started the YMCA team and in our first year had 40 team members and raised $20,000.00 for the MS Association.

This year was no different, I began recruiting team members the day after the ride last year and was looking forward to being the captain of a now experienced team. My cycling training wasn't as rigorous this year, mostly because of the amount of time I was spending running. But with teaching spinning classes each week and riding my bike 4-5 times per week, I was confident that my endurance training would take me through most of the ride.

A few weeks ago I organized a 40 mile training ride for my team. I felt my back start to stiffen up during the ride, but thought little of it as my back bothers me 80% of the time regardless of what I'm doing.

When I got home from the ride the cramping started to worsen, and I felt severe pain in my back. I did what I usually do - take some medicine and laid off of it for the rest of the day. The next few days I took my workouts down a notch and thought that it would just be a few days of pain, as usual.

It never really went away completely, but again, that's been pretty standard for me. Last night after playing beach volleyball, I came home and the pain slowly got worse and worse. To the point that I couldn't stand or sit, and even rolling over in my bed was excruciating. I took some medicine again and went to sleep for the night. It was a horrible night, I couldn't even toss and turn because the pain was too severe.

I knew that there was no way that in 24 hours I could set out to accomplish my 100 mile bike ride. I called in sick to work, and slept for another 4 hours. When I finally got out of bed this morning around 11:00am, I felt much better than last night, but still stiff. I walked to Walgreens, spent $50 on ice packs, muscle creams and hot pads and officially decided not to ride.

I'm still planning on heading to Dekalb for the race. I am the captain, and I am so proud of my team for their training, fundraising, and team camaraderie. I'm not even going to take my bike with me, for the fear of temptation of "just trying" to ride 35 miles or so. If anything makes this pain worse I'll be incredibly upset with myself. So instead, I'm swallowing my pride and listening to my body - reluctantly and with a sad heart.

Techie Tuesday

When I first started running I didn't care much about my pace. Well, that's not entirely true. I didn't care because I was running so slow that I didn't want to remind myself that 11:00 minute miles was close to a fast walk. I just didn't keep track of it.

After running several races and significantly improving my pace over the years, I wanted a way to see my running pace and mileage. Without spending over $300 on a Garmin watch. That watch is ridiculously awesome, but I felt like it was reserved for the "real runners." What I wanted was something inexpensive, accurate, and durable.

One day browsing at Universal Sole, I saw the Nike Running Sportband. The watch was sleek and trendy looking, unlike some of the other watches used for heart rate and pace tracking, which can be bulky and "fitness-y" looking. The retail price was even better, only $59.00.

I bought the watch and since then have loved running with it. I can see my pace and mileage at any time. If I look down and see my pace is around 8:45 I can pick up my pace and immediately see the difference. It motivates me to push myself when I can, or slow myself down if I'm doing a long, slow run and am accidentally running at a pace I won't be able to maintain.

The only drawback for me is that it doesn't have a heart rate monitor option. I wear my trusty Polar F4 heart rate monitor during every workout I do. I've had the F4 for so long they no longer sell that model on the Polar website. You can find it on Amazon.com for only $77.00. I could write an entire blog about my love for Polar. In any case, wearing both my Polar and my Nike Sportband is a little much, though bearable. If anything it makes me look like a super runner. Or super nerdy.

While this would be enough for me to be completely satisfied with the Nike Sportband, there's more to be excited about. First, while the sensor fits perfectly into a Nike shoe, I don't wear Nikes to run in. Fortunately there are shoe pockets that attached to your shoelaces that are made just for the sensor, so I didn't have to make a change from my beloved Saucony shoes.

Furthermore, the website support is really exciting for techie geeks that love to see progression, fastest times, longest runs, and more. Each time you run your fastest mile a celebrity guest comes on the screen to congratulate you, and you're recognized for your longest run as well. Which will be encouraging as my mileage increases each Saturday through marathon training. It also takes you to a new "zone" as you increase mileage overall. The site is entirely committed to goal setting, coaching, and motivating you through technology.

Here's an example of some of the tracking on the website, which was downloaded just as easy as pulling out the USB attachment from my watch and plugging it into my computer.

Overall, I'm loving the Nike Sportband and am looking forward to using it through my training and on the day of the marathon. Maybe one day I'll try out that Garmin.

Hello, my name is Mira

We all know someone who has run a marathon. Typically that person that we know has done more than one marathon. Usually we think of them as "that crazy runner friend of mine" or something along those lines.

I had always played around with the idea of running a marathon. I'd done a handful of triathlons, stair climbs, ran 5k races, 10k races, even 2 half marathons. With my divorce finalized last summer and my 30th birthday approaching, there was no better year than this year to finally commit to what was once a distant "bucket list" goal.

But that was just me registering for the race. Unfortunately, signing up for the marathon does not mean that I had accomplished running the marathon (even though I had to prepare myself just to sign up). It's just the beginning of a long journey. A journey that, unless you've lived with someone training or have trained yourself, is something that I'm guessing is pretty intriguing (or maybe really boring, but still worth knowing more about?). And because this training is about to consume me for the next 125 days, I think you should come on this journey with me. To see the ups and downs, and how the mind of "that crazy runner friend of yours" works under these circumstances.

But wait. There's more. I guess I titled the blog Mirathon Training because really, life is not about marathons, or running, or even goals for that matter. Life for me has become about living, really living. And so every day I'm training for the marathon, I'm also training for my mirathon. Living my life, to my best ability. And writing is a deep tissue massage for my brain and soul.

So this blog might be about a combination of things. Running, training, cycling, injuries, life, love, laughter and the delicious stir-fry that is mixing these all together to get me. If you know me well, then you know it will be quite an adventure. Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride.