For the second time in 6 years, my husband and I finally had the house all to ourselves. What did we do? Like any other exhausted parents, we went to bed before 9:30! Instead of sleeping in, we jumped out of bed at 6:30 and quickly headed out for a run.
I prefer running dates over going to the movies. Movies suck. First of all, I finally get rid of my kids just to feel another lady's brat kick my chair repeatedly for 90 minutes or scream out inappropriately. Why is that 5 year old in an adult movie anyway? Furthermore, I've never understood why people bring their newborn babies to shows. "Yes, thank you ma'am, I wanted to hear your baby cry for the entire movie because I desperately missed the cry of my two boys, whom I appropriately left at home."
Running allows Randall and I to have quality time together. We talk, grunt, laugh, compete, defend the lead... It's fun. He used to be remarkably faster than me. Of course he enjoyed the lead, he is a man. What hunter man doesn't enjoy being able to demonstrate his ability to chase down prey, or a car, to his slower nut gathering wife? But in the last year, I've taken the lead as Randall has suffered with injury. He could probably still beat me in the mile, hands down. But I have endurance, and in my world, that means everything. I just need to tire him out.
"How far we going?"
"Only 7-8 miles. The schedule says 8, so..." I looked at the path ahead and smirked.
"There is no way we are going 8 miles, Jen. We are already 5 miles from home and I know we are running on your 11 mile course. I helped you map the damn thing a few nights ago. Oh, and didn't you say we were going to take it slow? This isn't slow. This is one minute per mile faster than you promised."
I love spending time with him.
~Roadburner
Showing posts with label running humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running humor. Show all posts
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Compression Sucks
For six months I've used various brands of compression socks to help ease the post run soreness I am graced with in my calves. It's become even more important since I switched to running in barefoot style shoes, as I have never been so incapacitated walking up and down stairs, 24 hours after a run.
However, in the last month or so I've noticed that the compression socks cause intense pain during the run. It starts with a slow unnerving twitch that grabs the side of my ankle and takes hold of the calf by mile 1. It almost feels like my shoes are too tight, but they are as loose as possible without the shoe falling off my foot mid-stride.
I have done a few experiments in the last 2+ weeks judging what the problem might be.
Day 1 - This was my base test. I ran 7 miles with my CEP compression socks, size II, as normal. By mile 1, I was in such pain I questioned why I enjoyed running. By mile 3, I loosened my shoes to the point that I knew they were going to ricochet off my feet if I tripped on an uneven side walk. Ironically, after mile 4 the pain lessened and I was able to trot along like normal. There was not a change in pace, hills, terrain, or stride. The anaconda just slowly relinquished its grip on my calves. Furthermore, my calves experienced no pain or soreness following the run.
Day 2 - I ran without my compression socks for 5 miles. My ankles started out a bit tender, but that is because I was sore from my longer weekly mileage. It eased quickly and I was fine within a half mile. I thoroughly enjoyed the run and felt only slight soreness in my calves as I charged up large hills. I felt great throughout the run, but the next day was another story. Running without compression socks made the run enjoyable, but left me tip toeing around my house the whole next day like a paranoid robber. Stretching and rolling out my calves turned me into a sadist.
I went about this experiment for 2 weeks, alternating my typical runs with and without compression socks. By the end of the second week, I was so beat down by the paradox of either being sore during my run or experiencing tender calves for days afterward. Before giving up completely, I decided to look into the proper sizing and the science behind compression.
First of all, I needed a new pair of socks. Perhaps this was a silly and easy fix. My calves have grown substantially since I bought my first pairs 6 months ago and it was time for more room in the channel. This might explain why the discomfort during my run has increased over the months of use. However, this wasn't the smoking gun I expected. It definitely reduced pain by about 50% but I was still substantially more comfortable during the run when I left them tucked deep in my sock drawer.
Next came the science. The CEP compression socks insert promises that wearing compression gear will transport oxygen to the muscles more efficiently than the body can transfer on its own. Compressing the lower leg is supposed to stimulate blood flow throughout the leg. If blood can move more effectively, negative by-products from running can quickly be removed, leaving the runner more energized and comfortable.
Wearing compression gear (according to CEP):
Personally, I agree with 3 things on the above list.
Scientific studies also produce mixed results on the effectiveness of compression gear. Ali et al. (2007) found no benefit from compression. On the other hand, Kremmier et al. (2009) found compression socks helped improve a runner's lactate threshold during exercise and left them less sore post run.
Most discomforts caused by my compression socks fade beyond five miles. However reaching that fifth mile can be excruciating. I don't run so that I can feel the blood pool in my calves for any amount of time. While I appreciate the benefits of compression post run, I plan to shelf my knee highs for a while. Perhaps strengthening my calf muscles through weight training and yoga will naturally improve my calf soreness long term. I switched to barefoot style running shoes so that I could connect with my body and run as nature intended. Perhaps I don't need additional fanfare to protect my body and I simply need to improve on its bare perfection.
However, in the last month or so I've noticed that the compression socks cause intense pain during the run. It starts with a slow unnerving twitch that grabs the side of my ankle and takes hold of the calf by mile 1. It almost feels like my shoes are too tight, but they are as loose as possible without the shoe falling off my foot mid-stride.
I have done a few experiments in the last 2+ weeks judging what the problem might be.
Day 1 - This was my base test. I ran 7 miles with my CEP compression socks, size II, as normal. By mile 1, I was in such pain I questioned why I enjoyed running. By mile 3, I loosened my shoes to the point that I knew they were going to ricochet off my feet if I tripped on an uneven side walk. Ironically, after mile 4 the pain lessened and I was able to trot along like normal. There was not a change in pace, hills, terrain, or stride. The anaconda just slowly relinquished its grip on my calves. Furthermore, my calves experienced no pain or soreness following the run.
Day 2 - I ran without my compression socks for 5 miles. My ankles started out a bit tender, but that is because I was sore from my longer weekly mileage. It eased quickly and I was fine within a half mile. I thoroughly enjoyed the run and felt only slight soreness in my calves as I charged up large hills. I felt great throughout the run, but the next day was another story. Running without compression socks made the run enjoyable, but left me tip toeing around my house the whole next day like a paranoid robber. Stretching and rolling out my calves turned me into a sadist.
I went about this experiment for 2 weeks, alternating my typical runs with and without compression socks. By the end of the second week, I was so beat down by the paradox of either being sore during my run or experiencing tender calves for days afterward. Before giving up completely, I decided to look into the proper sizing and the science behind compression.
First of all, I needed a new pair of socks. Perhaps this was a silly and easy fix. My calves have grown substantially since I bought my first pairs 6 months ago and it was time for more room in the channel. This might explain why the discomfort during my run has increased over the months of use. However, this wasn't the smoking gun I expected. It definitely reduced pain by about 50% but I was still substantially more comfortable during the run when I left them tucked deep in my sock drawer.
Next came the science. The CEP compression socks insert promises that wearing compression gear will transport oxygen to the muscles more efficiently than the body can transfer on its own. Compressing the lower leg is supposed to stimulate blood flow throughout the leg. If blood can move more effectively, negative by-products from running can quickly be removed, leaving the runner more energized and comfortable.
Wearing compression gear (according to CEP):
- Activates the muscles
- Reduces risk of injury
- Improves blood flow
- Enhances performance up to 5%
- Stabilizes ligaments and tendons
- Reduces muscle vibration
- Leaves fewer muscle pains
- Increases circulation
- Accelerates muscle regeneration
Personally, I agree with 3 things on the above list.
- Leaves fewer muscle pains. This only works post run though as I just can't move beyond the actual pain while running the first 5 miles in them. After the run, however is a substantial difference that I can take to the bank. When I wear my compression socks for a half marathon, I am remarkably less sore following the race. (During the race, I want to limp to the finish, but hey, I'll feel good the next day...)
- Reduces muscle vibration. When we strike the ground, our tendons, muscles, and ligaments vibrate. Scientists believe that vibration is what causes a lot of the post run soreness that I have come to hate after a long hilly run. When I wear my compression socks, I have only slight, if any muscle soreness post run.
- Enhances performance 5%. I indeed run faster when I wear them. The pain in my muscles is somehow less intense when I run faster. When you want to escape pain, run from it!
Scientific studies also produce mixed results on the effectiveness of compression gear. Ali et al. (2007) found no benefit from compression. On the other hand, Kremmier et al. (2009) found compression socks helped improve a runner's lactate threshold during exercise and left them less sore post run.
Most discomforts caused by my compression socks fade beyond five miles. However reaching that fifth mile can be excruciating. I don't run so that I can feel the blood pool in my calves for any amount of time. While I appreciate the benefits of compression post run, I plan to shelf my knee highs for a while. Perhaps strengthening my calf muscles through weight training and yoga will naturally improve my calf soreness long term. I switched to barefoot style running shoes so that I could connect with my body and run as nature intended. Perhaps I don't need additional fanfare to protect my body and I simply need to improve on its bare perfection.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Colfax Marathon Training: Week 2
I would love to say I feel great during every run and I come home invigorated, but that isn't always the case. I ran 8 miles on Wednesday because I wanted to run outside before the weather turned cold Friday night. (Running 8 on the dreadmill isn't exactly thrilling.) My mother in law offered to watch Owen while he napped and Ethan was at school. It was the perfect opportunity to get some nice alone time and enjoy the open road.
Because I chose to wear my running clothes to drop Ethan off at preschool, his teacher remembered to tell me how Ethan does laps around the playground during recess. She asked him why he runs lap after lap, getting increasingly faster at each loop. Ethan's response was the biggest compliment an active parent can receive, "I need to practice my running so that I can be a great runner like my Mommy someday!"
I returned to my car, gleaming with pride, and drove promptly home to begin my workout. As I ran, I thought constantly about Ethan. I want him to be proud of me. Obviously our kids look up to us, but I want him to look back at his childhood someday and really think his mom was amazing. That's why I started to feel guilty when my knees and calves ached with excruciating pain by mile 2. I had a babysitter to watch Owen; Ethan was in school; the weather was phenomenal; my son was probably running laps around the school yard as I limped along; it was the perfect day for a run, and yet I wanted to stop.
I never stop when I run. I never walk. I know that if I walk, I won't start up again. It is easier to just slow my pace and push through. A few miles later I am usually fine and I can finish comfortably. For some reason, I was really sore on Wednesday and for the first time in years, I walked up a hill. No, not one hill, three. My dog, Tucker, was pulling me along excitedly and I thought I was going to loose it. I haven't pushed through pain like that in a long time.
Thankfully, I felt remarkably better after mile 4. My blood started moving the soreness away from my calves and knees and I fell into my typical 9:38 pace. When I made it home, I felt relieved to have covered the full distance, but also proud that I didn't quit when I saw multiple opportunities. I could have bailed on my route and gone 3, 4, 5, or 6 miles. But I didn't. I finished the planned course and thought about Ethan the entire trek.
My other runs weren't that noteworthy. I ran a couple freezing cold three milers at 6:00 am, contacts freezing to my eyeballs; and yesterday hit the gym for 5.5 miles on the dreadmill. Not every run is supposed to be memorable. Not every run is supposed to feel great. I want Ethan to respect his mother's accomplishments not because they are always done with beauty and finesse, but because I always finish what I start.
Because I chose to wear my running clothes to drop Ethan off at preschool, his teacher remembered to tell me how Ethan does laps around the playground during recess. She asked him why he runs lap after lap, getting increasingly faster at each loop. Ethan's response was the biggest compliment an active parent can receive, "I need to practice my running so that I can be a great runner like my Mommy someday!"
I returned to my car, gleaming with pride, and drove promptly home to begin my workout. As I ran, I thought constantly about Ethan. I want him to be proud of me. Obviously our kids look up to us, but I want him to look back at his childhood someday and really think his mom was amazing. That's why I started to feel guilty when my knees and calves ached with excruciating pain by mile 2. I had a babysitter to watch Owen; Ethan was in school; the weather was phenomenal; my son was probably running laps around the school yard as I limped along; it was the perfect day for a run, and yet I wanted to stop.
I never stop when I run. I never walk. I know that if I walk, I won't start up again. It is easier to just slow my pace and push through. A few miles later I am usually fine and I can finish comfortably. For some reason, I was really sore on Wednesday and for the first time in years, I walked up a hill. No, not one hill, three. My dog, Tucker, was pulling me along excitedly and I thought I was going to loose it. I haven't pushed through pain like that in a long time.
Thankfully, I felt remarkably better after mile 4. My blood started moving the soreness away from my calves and knees and I fell into my typical 9:38 pace. When I made it home, I felt relieved to have covered the full distance, but also proud that I didn't quit when I saw multiple opportunities. I could have bailed on my route and gone 3, 4, 5, or 6 miles. But I didn't. I finished the planned course and thought about Ethan the entire trek.
My other runs weren't that noteworthy. I ran a couple freezing cold three milers at 6:00 am, contacts freezing to my eyeballs; and yesterday hit the gym for 5.5 miles on the dreadmill. Not every run is supposed to be memorable. Not every run is supposed to feel great. I want Ethan to respect his mother's accomplishments not because they are always done with beauty and finesse, but because I always finish what I start.
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