Photos from winter 2016-2017.
Photos from winter 2016-2017.
Nobody panicked, nobody got frostbite, but yes it snowed for the Tyler Arboretum Trail Run today. When the gun went off it was just cold drizzle..then it turned to sleet.. And by mile 4 there were big fat flakes of snow falling. Days like this I wish I had a GoPro because there was a moment when we emerged from the woods into a snow covered field with daffodils..that I would like to see again. Space blankets were distributed at the end and I managed to stop shivering in the car on the way home. Lesson learned..never forget your extra shoes.
This is always my favorite race.
Well, my running is still curtailed by this pesky hip problem which has now become a literal pain in the butt..some sort of piriformis/sacroliliac/who-knows-what syndrome (that’s HKWS) that’s causing pain in my, um, derriere and halfway down my leg on one side. But enough about that..what I really want to whine about in this post is PT. I’ve been thinking a lot about why I dislike PT so much. Sure, there are the usual intellectual reasons..the huge amount of time it takes, the fact that each visit costs me the same as a doctor visit but there are 8 or 12 times as many of them; the fact that it often amounts to nothing more than supervised exercise..but lately I’ve been noticing that it’s not just the rational objections that make me dread it. There is something sort of unpleasant and stress-indusing about the whole experience, and I think I’ve figured out part of it. It’s the togetherness. When I go to a doctor, it’s pretty much a private 1-1 experience. But when I go to the PT, I’m there in a room with a bunch of total strangers , all bring treated at one time, usually by the same practitioners. That’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, imagine going to the doctor and sharing your time slot with three other people in the same exam room? And yeah, I go to group exercise at the gym with people I don’t know, but PT is not like going to Zumba, where you’re basically doing a group activity and there’s music playing and it’s all happy happy. It’s more like being in a stranger’s hospital room, where no one is having fun and you’re trying hard to ignore one another.
At my most recent therapy session I had to do my exercises on a table about 2 feet from a guy with back trouble and try as I might, I couldn’t avoid hearing him telling the therapist all about how much pain he was in. It felt intrusive. And then I had to listen to the therapist having a long detailed and loud conversation with the woman on the table to my right, all about her wedding plans, for at least 15 minutes while she performed some manual therapy. (Believe me, there is nothing less interesting than someone else’s wedding plans. ) The therapist was, I guess, quadruple booked, so I can see how it was convenient to have everyone close together but from my standpoint, it wasn’t much fun.
I don’t know. I suppose that PT couldn’t make economic sense if it were always 1-1 but for me it’s just one more reason to avoid it. Anyway, I only lasted 1 session at that particular PT, and I am switching to one where, for whatever reason, there seem to be only 1 or 2 patients there at a time usually. And if that doesn’t work out, I guess I’ll have to take the last resort and go to the ortho, which I doubt will be productive. I suspect that what I really need is a good trigger point therapist but my insurance doesn’t cover that. That’s probably ironic, right?
So, finally, I’ve reached the point where my trochanteric pain syndrome-slash-hip bursitis-slash- IT band syndrome has made me stop running. I’ve promised myself I’m not going to run until I can run 5 miles pain-free, and also walk and sleep pain free. The sleeping part has been the hardest so far. No matter how I start out sleeping, I always end up rolling onto my affected side (the left side) which causes pressure on the affected hip and eventually an intense pain that wakes me up. So then I roll over onto my right side and somehow that causes the same left side pain as sleeping on the left side..I’m assuming that the IT band or some other structure in there is compressing the inflamed bursa in that position. But my body really, really wants to curl up on my side to sleep, even though my brain knows it’s gonna hurt. Back-sleeping is just wrong! Of course, it goes without saying that I asked the Internet how to keep from rolling onto my side, but all I got was advice on how to keep a baby from rolling over. Apparently side-sleeping is bad for babies? Anyway, unless I figure out how to somehow affix my back to the mattress, or construct some sort of bumpers to hold me in place, I think it’s going to be a while before I can get through the night. But meanwhile, (thanks to the internet of course), I’ve learned that sleeping on my side is actually good for my brain. So, there’s that.
The landscape of the Wissahickon Gorge has changed from vibrant yellows and reds to black, brown and green. Between one Saturday long run and the next, most of the trees have lost all of their leaves, and what’s left are bare branches and the evergreens..the rhododendrons, the Christmas ferns, and the few conifers dotting the slopes. Winter is coming.
First, get there on time unless you want to add on 2 miles to and from your car onto your distance, because there will be many more people than you expect, in fact, there will be a sea of electric-green-clad humanity, because at some when you weren’t paying attention, turkey trots became a thing.
Now the next thing is to sign up and get your shirt. If you are a petite female, know that the size Small will not fit you, so don’t bother to ask for it. (The Medium will be a good size to wear as a nightgown or perhaps a dress if you are into that look). But really, it doesn’t matter, because Turkey Trot shirts are by far the most hideous race shirts you will ever see, usually featuring some sort of cartoon turkey who resembles Donald Duck with a big red tumor on his lip and a pilgrim hat, so you will never want to actually wear the shirt, even to bed. Just ask for a large and give it to charity.
When it is time to line up at the start, there is important information you’ll need in order to go to the right corral. Even though it is a chip-timed race, remember, this is a turkey trot. Assume that most of the people there will be in the wrong corral. Of the people lined up at the start, perhaps 1/4 actually know their pace (but you don’t need to worry about them because they are the high school track team and they will be ahead of everyone during the whole race.) Roughly half of the runners are either wildly optimistic about their expected paces, or have no idea, but think they will run faster if they start near the front. And the rest of the runners aren’t actually paying any attention to where they line up, because they are on the phone with the person at home who is supposed to be putting the turkey in the oven. These people will be surprised when the gun goes off. And then there is you…dutifully seeding yourself accurately in the 8 minute corral because you ran an 8:10 in your last 5 mile race. See where I’m going with this? Don’t do it! Lie to yourself and line up with the faster group, otherwise you will spend the first 5 minutes of the race trying to get clear of the people who should be in the 11 minute group.
And finally, enjoy the run, embrace the middle of the pack, cheer the very fast ones and the very slow ones, then go home and enjoy your turkey or tofurkey, and plan on doing a long run for Black Friday.