Long Time, No Hear

So it's been a quiet few weeks for you readers. The focus of my time seems to have shifted abruptly from training to work...partly due to injury, partly due to necessity and timing.

I've spent the past few weeks doing some isometric exercises and the prognosis is marginal. I didn't try it last weekend but the weekend prior (after a whole week and a half off) I tried a little :10 elliptical then a little treadmill. I was elated that the latter was going well, until about 8 minutes in when I felt the knee twinge. I stopped at :10 (my intent) but was bummed that it didn't go longer. I spent the rest of the afternoon doing ab work and swimming...then immersed myself in work...and travel for work.

I headed down to New Orleans for the Nonprofit Technology Network (NTEN) conference. I was excited to be going for several reasons. The first, admittedly, was for the chance to network and get some good exposure for Northridge. I'd gotten onto a panel of a friend and former client, Mark at Sea Change on fundraising usability, and was excited for that as well as the general high school reunion feel the conference promised. I had the chance to connect with all kinds of dear old friends and former coworkers, clients, and partners.

Finally, I was excited because Dad was riding with me as my stowaway, and we always have grand adventures. While it's tempting to go through the highlights of the conference and our road trip, I think the best way to summarize it is a la a race report...by the numbers.

- Number of travel partners: 1 (Grandy! My Dad is a watercolor artist and is always out to get some inspiring shots for his subjects, and snapped up my "free spare bed and ride down" offer in a heartbeat)
- Number of miles driven: 978 (not counting the 20 mile side trip to Bayou LaBatre nor the miles Dad drove during the day to shoot photos)
- Number of miles walked downtown to dinners at night and shopping: 978 (ok, not really)
- Number of people attending our fundraising usability session: About 75, not bad!
- Number of former coworkers I ran into: 9 (Niemi, Cohen, Leta, Voelker, Stines, Ferraro, Herron, Labieniec, Cervino)
- Number of longtime clients and friends met in person for first time: 1 (Jed Miller!)
- Number of fans of this blog talked to: 1 (Peter at Convio)
- Times I got to run or swim: 0
- Number of hours I was awake Wednesday between the drive down, the meeting en route, and staying up late to compile the group's presentation: 20.5
- Number of flat tires: 1 (poor Grandy, on his first morning excursion)
- Number of times Grandy used the phrase regarding Crayfish "suck the head" then giggled: 14
- Number of great meals had: 3 (dinner at La Marigny Brasserie with Liz and Bridget from RedEngine Digital (one of our partners), dinner at Amelie with Liz and Dad, brunch at the Court of Two Sisters with Dad and Kristin)
- Number of "bonus attendees" at the evening reception both days at the conference: 1 (Grandy, duh, free food!)
- Number of near panic attacks: 2 (bridge across Lake Pontchartrain, whee for me!)
- Number of feet high the waves were on said lake on the way into town: 3.5, with whitecaps
- Number of tall bridges I surprised myself by driving over: 2 (somewhere in Alabama)
- Miles per hour the wind was blowing as we drove from Mobile towards NOLA: 40
- Times I was glad I wasn't on a plane in that shit: 40
- Times I wished that drive was over: 40
- Number of feather boas purchased: 1 (for Laika)
- Number of stuffed Armadillos purchased: 1 (for Tilley)
- Number of masks purchased collectively: 5 (mine plus all the grandkids)
- Number of shrimp boats in Bayou LaBatre: countless
- Number in trees, as was the case post Katrina: 0 that we saw
- Number or random trinkets for desk acquired: 4 (snow globe for the line-up, piece of driftwood and 2 oyster shells from Bayou LaBatre)
- Number of times I was glad that Grandy is my Grandy: 94
- Number of times I missed John: 24
- Number of times I missed the girls and thought how much they would enjoy the myriad of smells along the streets of the French Quarter: 11
- Number of times I was *so* proud to be representing Northridge and no one else: 147

Second Best Thing to a Run

THE RUNNING STORE!

If you can't running, go talk to people about running.

In my quest to simultaneously control AND distract myself from my recent conundrum and quasi-rest, what better field trip than the Big Peach Running Store? These people are phenomenal. John and I went in, me carrying my limp, 215-mile broken Nimbus's and a pathetic look on my face. She immediately knew how to help.

We went through a battery of questions, walking, trotting on the treadmill (good news: no knee pain, though the running without a sports bra and using my hands instead was comedic...but apparently pretty common). I even got to go on the special scale that tells where your weight is on your feet - and boy is my body protecting that left side. Check out the foot scans they printed for me! The one at left is barefoot, the one at right is standing on my orthotics....goes to show what orthotics do to even out your weight and impact for the foot.

After a Saucony and a Brooks (purple! damn!) candidate were rejected, I went back to the Asics. The short story is that I am textbook stick straight on the right side, no pronation (rolling at the ankle) whatsoever, and a little pronation on the left. I run in a cushioned ride, with neutral stability...and agreed with her comment that too much stability would throw off my OTHER leg. I have been there too, before (circa 2001, thanyouverymuch).

So after about an hour of this fun, including a new sock purchase (total ruse, they had clean ones to try on with), I got into a discussion about my leaky nubbins. For my Fuel Belt...they always leak or come out completely. I was eyeing a pack of green replacement nubbins, and commented too bad they didn't have a multicolor pack, and my new friend the manager of the store dug behind the counter and gave me as a get well present (I kid you not!) FOUR count them FOUR nubbins of my choosing. I got one of each :).

I think there's something to be said for nice people who make you feel better when you're down. Hats off to Big Peach!

The Wheels on the Bus Go...clang clANG CLANG

It was bound to happen, eventually.

Ideally, it would have been oh, I don't know...back in December or so. But two weeks out from the Shamrock Half Marathon is a fine time, according to fate.

After taking an easy recovery week from the 10k, you know, just to be safe, I was ready to try for a 2:10 run on Saturday. I knew it would be difficult, so planned on starting WITH Tilley then dealing with the aftermath on the second leg. I planned to do about 6 miles with her, then see how far I could get after that.

Twas not to be.

We headed out to run out Riverside and not a measley 29 minutes in, it began. That recently-all-too-familiar feeling of a large freshwater barracuda hook wrapping in - around - and through the outside of my left knee. Or perhaps the barracuda's teeth themselves. Ever optimistic, I told myself that this was just from my time off and that a good warmup and a few stretches would solve this, as it mostly had in the past.

Wrong. Dead wrong.

After a stretch at :30...at :40....at :50...I knew I would have to hang it up. I decided to end the run through the woods on Riverside at an hour on the nose....and 1.75 miles from home. After a consultation call with Jome and Rich, and then with John, I opted to walk home to "stretch it out"...I felt marginally better (physically, not emotionally)...and then started walking up the hill to the apartment.

Holyshit.

I could barely walk up the incline....having my left leg at a 10-20 degree angle was almost too much to bear. About ten minutes later (normally a 3 minute walk, tops), I was gimping up the stairs and gave John the full rundown.

After a brief exam and a ton of questions, he told me it's a condition that basically has the overdeveloped muscles of my outside and back of the leg competing with my wimpy inner muscles in the fight to control my kneecap. In this corner, the Abductors! Heavily trained, they are the favorite. In this corner, the Adductors! (hissing from the crowd) The gritty underdogs of the leg...once strong from years of horseback riding...now? Not so much.

As predicted, the Abductors are winning and my patella scoots unnaturaly to the outside. You know, about 1200 fricking times per mile. So for Saturday's lovely route by the nice trout fishermen and the bikers, for example, that's 36,632 times where my femur and patella got jiggy....at my expense. And let's not let our old friend the IT band off the hook...responsibility also goes up the line from my knee along the IT band allllllll the way to my Pal, Piriformis...which is oft to sit like a hard, bitter crabapple inside my glutes. You know the drill, piriformis tightens, IT band draws up, abductors pull, adductors can't resist, patella slides over. That old chestnut.

So where does that leave me?

I spent a day in the mental shitter - realizing this may botch my plans to go race with JoMarie and Amelia. I got deeper by realizing that the plan to do an Olympic Tri in a matter of 7 weeks is a stretch. But then I stopped the mental panic and thought, enough. Let's give it a week and see what the outcome is...the good news is with rest, ice, and some strengthening work this is fixable.

Let's just hope it's in time.