Physical Therapy - Week 2

This week, I've been "promoted" to the next level in one of my core exercises and one of my glute exercises. I guess that's a good thing, but boy, are my abs killing me.

The one thing that hasn't changed since Day 1 is the Astym® treatment. The purpose of the treatment is to help regenerate tissue that may have gotten scarred from injury or overuse. Since scar tissue can end up restricting movement, the breakdown of scar tissue can hopefully improve the movement in my glutes, which will hopefully "cure" the gluteal amnesia, which in turn will make it hurt less to run, regardless of the femoral acetabular impingement or the sacroiliitis or bursitis or whatever it really is that's making me want to live with a heating pad on my hip (while the ortho TOLD me it's FAI, that wasn't on the PT prescription; bursitis was, so we'll have a little mystery on our hands when I go in for a follow-up).

BOSU, my arch-nemesis. I've named him Moriarty.

If you've never heard of Astym® treatment, imagine this: a foam roller, but instead of foam, it's made of acrylic. And smaller than even a travel foam roller - like a hand held device. And instead of rolling smoothly over the muscles, which anyone who's ever used a foam roller knows can be OMGHURTSSOGOOD in itself, the Astym® instrument of torture is run along those same muscles, but said instrument actually will make the muscles crunch underneath them. That's the scar tissue being…dismantled.
I'm not ashamed to admit that I wanted to run, screaming, out the door the first time I heard that sound. It's horrifying.

Then you bruise. Because bruising is your body's way of healing itself. #sixthgradescience

Since I only can go two days a week, I've made sure that I schedule my sessions with enough time between sessions to allow Stephanie to give me the Atsym® treatment each time.
The treatment is not...fun. Like, how can something that makes your muscles go crunch be "fun." But, like the foam roller and a deep tissue massage, I'm always glad that it's done, when it's done. And I can tell that it's working; the bruising isn't as deep as it was two weeks ago, and it doesn't hurt so much as cause extreme discomfort.
I get the Astym® treatment at the beginning of my PT session, and then I am guided through my table and floor exercises, some of which are getting better, and some of which make me want to cry.

Hello, Band. Wanna go for a walk?

I admit; I haven't done my exercises at home every day. Like every other busy mom out there, some nights I am so tired that I'm lucky *I* make it to HRH's bedtime. Last night was one of those nights. I was just exhausted, and I fell into bed with my heating pad before falling asleep almost immediately (Husband knows to come upstairs and turn off my heating pad because I fall asleep so easily). But for the most part, I've been almost religious about following a daily routine. I desperately want to run and cycle again, even with the heat of the Arizona summer looming. I mean, walking is great and all, and I love yoga, but the feeling I have when I'm able to hit the road for a run or a ride is irreplaceable.
It's so funny - for years after I graduated high school, I swore up and down that running was The Worst and that I hated it. Even in high school, I was a sprinter and a jumper, so it was rare for me to do anything much farther than a (very slow) 800 meters, and I regularly did whatever I could to do as little "distance" running as possible. And now, I can't even run to the neighbor's house, and I'm just aching that I can't.
So….away I go, to make mysterious and concerning grunting noises as I contort and stretch in the hopes of heading back down the canal, this time with a booty like Bey.

Reverb 14 · May Post · Spring Cleaning

#reverb14 is an opportunity for participants to reflect throughout 2014. Each month, the Reverb team will post a new prompt. Join and write, or simply join and read.

May Prompt: How are you cleaning out your life and cleaning out your writing in preparation for a new season?  Reflect.  Photograph.  Think.

May is my "month off" between the end of my spring semester courses and the course I'm taking in summer school. Not that I actually have a vacation; my own classes don't have their finals for another week, and then I have End Of School Year Stuff. By the time I'm actually on vacation, my summer course will have begun.

Basically, before I submitted my last exam, my schedule looked like this: work, school, HRH school, HRH ballet, HRH swim, try to keep the house from looking like it should be condemned.

Currently, my schedule looks like this: work, HRH school, HRH ballet, HRH swim, try to keep the house from looking like it should be condemned.

And this summer, my schedule will look like this: school, HRH school (she'll continue through the summer at her daycare/preschool before Kindergarten starts in the fall), HRH ballet, HRH ballet camp, HRH swim, HRH swim camp, HRH cowgirl camp (hopefully), try to keep the house from looking like it should be condemned.

(I don't even want to make that list for the fall when "school" means kindergarten and all the things that go along with kindergarten; I've had to create a new calendar group just for HRH's stuff)

If the state of my house is any clue, I'm not good at cleaning out ANYTHING, including my life or my writing.

I mean, really - how does this even happen?

This is what I'm thinking about every day this week.

It's not that I want my house to be dirty. And to clarify - my house isn't dirty; it's just messy. So it's not that I want my house to be messy. I'm just not the tidiest person; I never have been. I'd like to be, but…leopards and spots and such. To compound that, there are only so many hours in the day. And not washing the dishes every night is the choice I've made.

It's the choice I've made because we (Husband and I) have made the decision to sacrifice some other things, including our time. I'm going back to school, and he's taken a position as an instructor at one of the community colleges here. So he's not only working all day, but then he's either gone at night teaching a class or grading/prepping for his class. I can't remember the last time I read something of substance that wasn't for an assignment, and I've spent more time in front of a computer screen than not.  There IS an up side, though. Once I get my masters, other, more flexible doors, can open for me, so I can ensure that I'm able to get HRH to the activities she pursues. Husband's instructor pay is both paying for my tuition and going into HRH's college account.

But because we've opted to make those time sacrifices, the time we do have with HRH during the week is not going to be spent with her having to amuse herself after I've worked all day because I need to wash a pan or vacuum a rug. So I read to her, and have her read to me (last night I read her The Cheese; she read me Llama Llama Home With Mama); we learn about the plant cycle on her newest science app; we have tea parties with fake tea but real sugar. And since Husband generally has Fridays off, they have a standing date for lunch (usually it's at Chick-Fil-A) and some sort of "field trip" while I'm working. This week I think they might go to the Science Center; she's interested in outer space again.

We rarely clean pans together.

So this weekend, I plan to actually clean - that pan and the rest of the house - and hope that "this time," I'll be able to keep a handle on it over the summer.

OK, maybe next weekend. HRH has something going on this weekend.

Physical Therapy - Week 1

Technically, it's Week 1.5. I was only able to go once last week because HRH was sick, but I made it, and as of today, I've been three times.
So, let's recap a bit first, shall we?
When I was finally able to make it in to the ortho, he took a look at my X-rays and said that I have extra bone at the top of my femur - femoral acetabular impingement (FAI). So the bone kind of smooshes (technical word) the cartilage in the joint, which causes the pain.
Bad news dispensed with, he proceeded to explain that while surgery is sometimes necessary, he was hopeful that some physical therapy can alleviate the pain.
I was extremely relieved to hear a positive mindset and that the doctor didn't want to immediately go worst case scenario to get me on a surgery table. And if PT doesn't relieve me, there are also shots that can work to reduce inflammation and improve my mobility.
Of course, shots are The Worst (just ask HRH), so I'd prefer to make enough progress in PT.

Fast forward to my insurance-sanctioned torture sessions.
Ideally, I'd go three times a week, but our family schedule just doesn't allow for that, so I've compromised on two times a week. The ortho had suggested a check back in six weeks, but I'll extend that a little bit if I need to because of the reduced schedule.
My physical therapist, Stephanie, determined that I have a bit of a hip drop and that I have gluteal amnesia, a not uncommon condition among runners in which the gluteus "forget" to fire, and other, smaller muscles have to compensate in order for the body to move forward.
The exercises she's having me do, then, are designed to help awaken the glute's memory and strengthen those muscles. Additionally, I'm doing some core strengthening exercises because it's always good to do core strengthening. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I've kind of let those exercises slide.
Each day, Stephanie's added at least one more exercise that works either the core or the glute/hip area, and I've been charged with stretching every day, as Stephanie said that yes, I am not a "bendy" person, but my upper leg muscles are OMGSOTIGHTHOWDOYOUEVENWALKBRO.
Many of my exercises are the same as what I've done before in my pilates videos, although they aren't as advanced because I've done a crappy job keeping up my leg strength. And doing these exercises, which in one way seem like baby steps, has been both fascinating and humbling.
I mean, it only takes ten clams for me to beg for mercy, and I have to do thirty of them.
It should come as no surprise that I am constantly going to my happy place, which may or may not involve images of ice cream.
Even though I'm in PT twice a week, Stephanie wants me doing these exercises every day. Additionally, she's allowing me to walk, but I am not allowed to run or bike until she gives me the green light. I may even hike, if I am so inclined, but only on "light" trails.
Between the stretching and the exercises, then, I'm making a lot of use of my ice packs, which tends to be the highlight of my day.
I am going a bit stir crazy not being able to run or bike, but I'm behaving so that I can get back to both before long. The good news is that these exercises are absolutely exhausting, even if I'm only able to move my leg 1/2 inch sometimes (which is what it feels like sometimes), so I'm not sure I'd have the energy to get in two miles even if I had been given the OK.
My hope is that weekly recaps will allow me to see my own progress in terms of strength, as well as to keep me accountable for actually doing the work when I'm not under Stephanie's watchful eye. Tune in next week - I may be able to do TWELVE clams before offering to give up government secrets!

Little Try-Athlete

HRH has been going to weekly swim lessons for almost three year now. Swimming is, obviously, a skill that Arizona kids need to have; there are so many pools here that it's really not a luxury.  While Husband was a simmer in high school, I'm not much of a swimmer; I get panicked when my face is in the water, but I'm trying very hard not to project that irrational fear to her.
Thankfully, she doesn't seem to have picked up on my proclivity for non-water-related activities and has come a long way from sitting at the edge of the pool crying for the entire 30 minutes. Right now she's in the "Star" level and is becoming proficient in both the crawl stroke and the backstroke. She's loving every second of it.
Last weekend, the swim school hosted a "try-athlon." I signed HRH up for it the second I heard about it, and I've been playing up the excitement ever since.
Of course, it wasn't a regular triathlon; to make sure the kids stayed interested, the swim and run legs were obstacle courses; the cycling leg was deemed tricky enough, since several kids, HRH included, are less proficient on those training wheels-encumbered bikes than their swim strokes.
For the swim, the kids jumped in the pool inside a giant floaty (probably not the technical term, but we've established that I'm not hip to the pool lingo) and swam to almost the halfway point. Then they had to go over one lane marker and under another before they swam to the other end, where they had to toss a basketball into a hoop.
HRH struggled once she got out of the floaty; 25 meters is farther than she's ever swum. But the coaches were great; there were always enough coaches in the pool (and more on the deck) to make sure all the kids made it safely regardless of their ability level.

Blurry action shot - HRH is the one still in the air.

This was right as I tried not to panic when her face went under water.
Deep breaths, Momma.
Now I know how Michael Phelps's mom feels (sort of).

Her transition time needs some work; she didn't really cooperate with me as I put her socks on (she insisted on socks because she wears socks with her running shoes), but once her shoes were on, she was off to the bike.
I've actually been suggesting that she get a little bike for a while, and she's resisted, saying that she's happy with her tricycle. So it was no surprise that she was hesitant. Once again, the coach came through and helped her the entire way (a giant loop on one side of the blocked off parking lot), even though it seemed like HRH pedaled less than half the time.

Finally, the running. This was the longest distance, although not terribly far in HRH's estimation, and there were five obstacles. The first I honestly can't remember - I think it involved jumping, but I was trying to get close for a snap and missed it. Then she had to jump rope four times, hula hoop five times, crawl through a big pipe, and run through a "human car wash" before crossing the finish line.

And at the finish, water and orange slices as runners accepted their participant medals.

She just loved it. She's already game for another triathlon and has decided that she does actually want a bike after all.
Of course, I'm ridiculously proud of HRH. While she has swum, biked (OK, triked), and run before, the longer distance in the pool and the obstacles that were put into place could have thrown her off. But she kept her cool, especially when she began to struggle in the pool (it took all of my energy NOT to panic) and asked the nearest coach to help her. Being able to speak up when she really needed it and continue with an activity even if some parts (the biking) were a little scary is a quality I want her to have, and now that she knows the exhilaration of success, I think that the event really cemented that lesson.
And now it's time for me to get healthy so we can do a race together someday.

Pat's Run 2014 Recap

I'm not sure that it was wise, but I convinced the ortho to give me clearance to participate in Pat's Run when I went in for my post-x-ray consult for the sacroiliitis.  He said that as long as I took it easy and walked if I had to, I should be OK.
(My physical therapist was not as thrilled to hear that and has since put the kibosh on running, but more of that in another post)
So, on a lovely and unseasonably cool April morning, I met up with about 32,000 of my closest friends for the 10th Pat's Run.
It was ten years ago that Pat Tillman, a former ASU Sun Devil and Arizona Cardinal, was killed in a still-controversial incident in Afghanistan. In the decade since, the Pat Tillman Foundation has helped support military scholars across the country.
This year, Husband stayed home with HRH, and I met up with a few of my girlfriends for the race and post-run breakfast and cocktails.
I'd signed up for the event before I got injured, so I estimated the time based on my performance the past couple of years with an allowance for my recent shin splints episode. However, when I was told by the ortho to slow down, I opted to start in a later corral with the girls and see how things went. All I knew was that once I hit the stadium, I'd be running even if I had to walk the entire way up to that point.
Thankfully (for my sanity), I was able to run most of the way. We walked the first half of the Mill Ave. bridge, all the way up Curry, and over all of the Rural bridge. I suggested that I may walk up the incline into the stadium, but I didn't. I was too excited/happy to be there at that point, and I took off without even telling my friends that I was going to do so.
Oops.
But then we found each other quickly, and all was right in the world.

Of course, then it was time for pictures.

Devin (56) and Evan Goodman, both OLs

Getting this close to a mascot - even my beloved Sparky - was a HUGE deal for me.
#mascotsarecreepy

I loved this year's shirt - it actually fit like a technical shirt should.

Official time: 51:35
Place (overall): 14,598
Place (women's): 6164

Looking at my splits, my first mile was the fastest, but all of them were significantly slower than what I was used to running. However, I was glad to finish in under an hour; I felt like that was something of a victory in itself.
I'm not sure when my next race will be; nothing is going on the calendar until I get a clear green light to run again AND the pain has abated. But despite the achy hip the next day, Pat's Run, as always, was a wonderful - and extremely well organized - event that was worth the aches and pains to honor a fallen hero and support our military scholars. Here's to hoping I'll be healthy enough to run next year.

Reverb 14 · April Post · April Showers

#reverb14 is an opportunity for participants to reflect throughout 2014. Each month, the Reverb team will post a new prompt. Join and write, or simply join and read.

April Prompt: Luck: We've had a long, wet, cold winter here, and we're ready for spring. Show us a photo of your "April showers," and tell us all about it.

So...um, well….this is awkward.

I don't know the last time we had rain here in Arizona.

Unless you count showers of pollen. Oh. Em. Gee. The pollen.  When the sweet acacia was in bloom, I thought I was going to drown in my own sneezes. I don't understand how so many people think that the scent of the acacias are "sweet" or "lovely." I'd describe the smell as more "cloying" and "nauseating." But I guess that's why they make chocolate and vanilla or Clartin and Benadryl.

This is obviously a first world problem if I've ever blogged one.

The benefit of no rain and warm, sunny skies in the spring months is that HRH is able to plan picnics at the pocket park down the street, something in which she takes great care and delight.

To wit: 

Shakshuka to go

Helmets at dinner. Noodles can be dangerous, I guess.

We'll be paying for it in a few months, when the temperatures reach the triple digits. This was the first year I turned on the air conditioning before Tax Day (I turned it on last week), but when the car registered over 95°, it was time. For now, though, it's nice to be able to have dinner in the park, even if the dress code calls for helmets and doctor coats.

The (New) S-Word

Last month, my hip started bothering me a bit.

It didn't hurt, really. It was more of an ache that wasn't nearly as bad as the shin splints that finally healed. I figured that all I needed was some additional stretching and foam rolling and that I'd mention it to my chiropractor at my next appointment.

Then I went for a two-mile run with Zooey and thought I wouldn't be able to make it home. In the last quarter mile, my hip went from a ho-hum ache to pain so severe that I had trouble walking the rest of the day.

So, rest and ice. Lots of yoga. No running. No cycling.

I was basically climbing the walls.

But while the "kill me now" pain did subside, it was no longer that dull, and I knew I had to go to the doctor.

My previous GP had retired, so I ended up seeing one of the PAs at the practice. It was fortunate - she is also a runner, so she told me that what she wanted was to make sure I'd be able to lace up again soon. After not seeing anything with regard to my posture, etc., she sent me off for an X-ray.

It was a long 24 hours waiting for the result to be known, and when it came, it wasn't anything that I'd have expected.

Sacroiliitis - an inflammation of my sacroiliac joint.

My options were slim - I need to see an ortho to get a more definitive diagnosis (I'm hoping it's not on the "really bad" area of the scale) and treatment plan, which will hopefully include physical therapy and will hopefully NOT include injections. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get in until the 23rd of this month.

In the meantime, I can't run, cycle, or hike, as these can exacerbate symptoms. So can prolonged sitting, and since I teach from home and am in front of my computer pretty much all day, that's…. not fantastic. I'm able to go for walks, and I did take Zooey for a 2-miler yesterday morning, which kept me from feeling too terribly stabby. I'm continuing to do yoga, and I've been using ice in the morning and a heating pad in the evenings along with, if I'm really uncomfortable, an anti-inflammatory.

Husband thinks I may have done too much too soon with regard to cycling, and I hate to admit it, but he is probably right. It didn't take me that long to go 16+ miles along the canal, and I was looking at how I could bump that up for the next weekend when I had to stop.

I've got my fingers crossed that I get the green light to start moving again soon. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to avoid throwing myself a pity party not being able to do my favorite things. I've had a few people suggest swimming as an alternative, which would be fine if I had access to a pool and didn't panic every time my face is submerged. I'll have to seriously think about it if things get worse, though. Do they have swimming lessons for panicky adults?

My most current worry is Pat's Run. It's only 3 days after my ortho appointment, and I am registered to run. I'm a little scared that the ortho will say "no" to running and even to walking it, but I am trying hard to not psych myself out or go down Worst Case Scenario Boulevard. I'd hate to not participate, but  at the same time, I also don't want to participate if it compromises my ability to run and cycle into old age, so I will be a good patient and listen to what the doctor tells me.

I just can't promise there won't be tears.

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