The theme of this week has been "reassess" and what better way to finish it off than with a brand new injury, right?!?! Hahah... Oh man! March was shaping up to be so awesome! I was super satisfied with my new goals sheet when I posted it on Tuesday afternoon and *then* I felt SO GREAT about my performance at track practice Tuesday night. But - oyoyoy - one day and one little baby recovery ride later and I found myself suffering from a mild case of 'turf toe' on my right foot. I've been RICE-ing and going easy on it ever since Thursday and there's still no sign of the pain going away any time soon. Meh.
Okay okay - so, I admit that I may have needed a little reality check... Maguy discouraged me from double days last year and I've been aware I'm pushing it with these back-to-back bricks on Tuesdays. So, here I lie, on this couch, in this oh-so-familiar position (with one leg up and tingling in my toes from a tightly wound ace bandage). Ugh!
For the next few weeks, I'll be fine-tuning my weekly workout routine to avoid a double day. The problem will be deciding which Tuesday workout to retain! I've been loving my morning jogs with Vala and the Tuesday evening track workouts with Oakland Triathlon Club (OTC) have been so enjoyable and so intense. Look! After doing a mini brick in the morning *and* riding 12 miles to Berkeley I still ran my fastest recorded 400 meter (1:12) and my fastest 1/2 mile (3:16):
So you can see what I mean... I'd like to keep both workouts in the mix somehow (maybe with one 3 miler day and a 5 miler day?). Once my foot heels, my plan of attack will be to get some new shoes, and maybe custom orthotics, and ask the OTC track coach about how my form can be improved to avoid reinjury. Alright - that's enough wah wah wah for now - more later!
Showing posts with label reconstruction isn't always pretty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reconstruction isn't always pretty. Show all posts
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Catch Up If You Can
On Tuesday morning I met a good friend from college to jog along Shoreline Drive in Alameda. It's a beautiful and bustling trail along the southwestern coast of the island that has breathtaking views of the San Francisco bay. We jog/walked and went about 3 miles in thirty minutes. It was a great catch-up session where I heard all about her new pet sea turtle, her path to buying a home in the Bay Area, and tales of grandbabies and middle management and losing 50 lbs in a year. Incredible! When we said goodbye we agreed to a weekly meeting when the weather is nice. This turned out to be a mini-brick (which means a bike and run workout back-to-back) which is fantastic - and it was oh so fun to see an old friend's face!
This week I'm looking forward to tagging along with Dan for a Thursday morning workout with the Vitruvian club at Lake Merritt *and* Billy and I are also talking about going on a long ride this weekend (somewhere between 40 and 60 miles) so I can barely contain my excitement for that.
It feels so good to be training again. I can feel my body coming back one day at a time.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
On Overcoming Obstacles
Scars are cool. When you're a volleyball player, bruises, floor burns, and contusions on your knees become kind of like badges of honor. Every scar has a story. Well, the scars on my knees are kind of a long story...
I was a climb-two-stairs-at-a-time kind of kid. At 6, I was the girl organizing a bracket for foot races with all the boys on the playground. Athletically, I was never extraordinary, but ever since I can remember I've always *wanted* to be the fastest, jump the highest, and be the best. That desire drove me to make the jump to a big, public high school volleyball team after playing two years for Victory Christian (a small private junior high in Fair Oaks, CA). Freshman year I was most-improved. Sophomore year I was most-inspirational. By my Senior year I was captain on Varsity. I've loved the game ever since.
Flash forward to college - In 2004, at our last home match against cross-town rival Holy Names (during my fourth and final season playing at Mills College in Oakland, CA), I blocked a ball and landed on a hyperextended right knee, causing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) to snap and roll up like blinds.
That December, I elected to undergo ACL surgery. I awoke from sedation with my sister Sarah and my mom by my bedside. The searing pain in my knee caused involuntary tears to pour from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks and soak my hospital gown. For fear of this pain returning, I finished all the prescribed meds (which left me useless and drooling on my parents couch for two weeks). Haha... This half-baked state was perfect for appreciating my parents' two thousand cable channels (mostly TCM and the food channel). My mind was a perfect *mush* when I went back to Mills on crutches to finish my Senior spring. But I was prancing around in high heels by graduation day and, the following August, after 8 months of physical therapy, I was back at Mills getting taped up for the Alumni match.
I continued to play, and in 2007, in a qualifying match at an outdoor grass tournament in Detroit, IL, it happened again, but this time to my left knee! After planting a kill cross-court on the three meter line, a crack sounded out that sent shivers down my spine. I knew instantly it was another ACL tear. This meant another surgery and another year of rest, ice, compression, and elevation (ie, no running, no jumping, no climbing two stairs at a time, and, worst of all... no volleyball!).
Six months later... After my second elective surgery, I stopped the meds after the first day. Falling asleep without pain-killers that night was a little like jumping off a cliff, but I woke up basically pain-free the next morning. It sounds crazy, but being awake and aware and not all drugged up helped me meditate on my body's natural ability to heal. I put some of the tools my college coach, Marla Mundis, had taught me to good use. As I dredged through 6 more months of rehab, I visualized my recovery. This may sound a little ridiculous, but I imagined a mini-construction crew going up and down the inner workings of my knee joint on scaffolding, soldering and smoothing over all the rough surfaces. Being off the meds also gave me the presence of mind to focus on the challenge at hand... REHAB. Once again, I re-learned how to stand, walk, run, tip toe, kneel, climb, jump, land, cycle, swim, and play.
Over the long run - being hurt was an obstacle that created so many positive outcomes in my life. I became closer to my parents and Billy (who I relied on incessantly during this time). My goal of maintaining healthy knees drove me into the yoga studio. I started coaching to stay involved in the sport. Ten years later, I'm still using my knowledge of ACL injuries to teach proper mechanics in the next generation of volleyball players: how to jump and land and quickly change direction *safely* and how to improve leg strength in ways that will support the whole body. The rehab made me completely unafraid of square one. Today I am fully recovered... And now, I would venture to say that *my wounds healed me*.
The original injuries were scary. They made me feel broken and (albeit temporarily) strangely robbed me of my femininity. Being hurt changed the way I moved through the world and the way I saw myself. However, the surgeries were even more scary. Afterwards, I felt physically, financially, and spiritually crippled. Violated and maimed. And then, of course, this was abruptly followed by the demanding uphill road of rehabilitation, which required time, planning, and - most of all - conviction. After my second ACL surgery, it took me a good five years to get back where I was (that is, back to taking stairs two at a time).
Now, I'm not sure if I'll ever stop taking two stairs at a time, but I know that if I do, I will do so knowing that my strength doesn't come from knees. My true strength as a human being comes from a deep hidden place within me that I discovered thanks to my knees. :)
I was a climb-two-stairs-at-a-time kind of kid. At 6, I was the girl organizing a bracket for foot races with all the boys on the playground. Athletically, I was never extraordinary, but ever since I can remember I've always *wanted* to be the fastest, jump the highest, and be the best. That desire drove me to make the jump to a big, public high school volleyball team after playing two years for Victory Christian (a small private junior high in Fair Oaks, CA). Freshman year I was most-improved. Sophomore year I was most-inspirational. By my Senior year I was captain on Varsity. I've loved the game ever since.
Flash forward to college - In 2004, at our last home match against cross-town rival Holy Names (during my fourth and final season playing at Mills College in Oakland, CA), I blocked a ball and landed on a hyperextended right knee, causing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) to snap and roll up like blinds.
That December, I elected to undergo ACL surgery. I awoke from sedation with my sister Sarah and my mom by my bedside. The searing pain in my knee caused involuntary tears to pour from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks and soak my hospital gown. For fear of this pain returning, I finished all the prescribed meds (which left me useless and drooling on my parents couch for two weeks). Haha... This half-baked state was perfect for appreciating my parents' two thousand cable channels (mostly TCM and the food channel). My mind was a perfect *mush* when I went back to Mills on crutches to finish my Senior spring. But I was prancing around in high heels by graduation day and, the following August, after 8 months of physical therapy, I was back at Mills getting taped up for the Alumni match.
I continued to play, and in 2007, in a qualifying match at an outdoor grass tournament in Detroit, IL, it happened again, but this time to my left knee! After planting a kill cross-court on the three meter line, a crack sounded out that sent shivers down my spine. I knew instantly it was another ACL tear. This meant another surgery and another year of rest, ice, compression, and elevation (ie, no running, no jumping, no climbing two stairs at a time, and, worst of all... no volleyball!).
Six months later... After my second elective surgery, I stopped the meds after the first day. Falling asleep without pain-killers that night was a little like jumping off a cliff, but I woke up basically pain-free the next morning. It sounds crazy, but being awake and aware and not all drugged up helped me meditate on my body's natural ability to heal. I put some of the tools my college coach, Marla Mundis, had taught me to good use. As I dredged through 6 more months of rehab, I visualized my recovery. This may sound a little ridiculous, but I imagined a mini-construction crew going up and down the inner workings of my knee joint on scaffolding, soldering and smoothing over all the rough surfaces. Being off the meds also gave me the presence of mind to focus on the challenge at hand... REHAB. Once again, I re-learned how to stand, walk, run, tip toe, kneel, climb, jump, land, cycle, swim, and play.
Over the long run - being hurt was an obstacle that created so many positive outcomes in my life. I became closer to my parents and Billy (who I relied on incessantly during this time). My goal of maintaining healthy knees drove me into the yoga studio. I started coaching to stay involved in the sport. Ten years later, I'm still using my knowledge of ACL injuries to teach proper mechanics in the next generation of volleyball players: how to jump and land and quickly change direction *safely* and how to improve leg strength in ways that will support the whole body. The rehab made me completely unafraid of square one. Today I am fully recovered... And now, I would venture to say that *my wounds healed me*.
The original injuries were scary. They made me feel broken and (albeit temporarily) strangely robbed me of my femininity. Being hurt changed the way I moved through the world and the way I saw myself. However, the surgeries were even more scary. Afterwards, I felt physically, financially, and spiritually crippled. Violated and maimed. And then, of course, this was abruptly followed by the demanding uphill road of rehabilitation, which required time, planning, and - most of all - conviction. After my second ACL surgery, it took me a good five years to get back where I was (that is, back to taking stairs two at a time).
Now, I'm not sure if I'll ever stop taking two stairs at a time, but I know that if I do, I will do so knowing that my strength doesn't come from knees. My true strength as a human being comes from a deep hidden place within me that I discovered thanks to my knees. :)
Friday, January 31, 2014
January: American Film Appreciation Month
This month I was holed up at home in bed nursing two sprained ankles and a terrible cold that wouldn't quit. On top of that, when I wasn't looking at my watch and calculating exactly how much time it was before Billy got here, I was trying to not go crazy by consciously distracting myself from how much time it was before Billy got here. Oy!
Now, if you don't know me that well, this may come as news to you, but I am, admittedly, somewhat of a nitwit when it comes to common knowledge. For example, I have been the butt of many a joke when conversations turn toward the cultural canon. Vocabulary, books, band names, TV shows, actors, and movies that are considered common knowledge by my peers evidently inhabit a black hole in my brain. References to media from my generation mostly go over my head. And while my anti-climactic-explanation-eliciting blank stares were coquettish in my twenties, in my thirties, it turns out it's just embarrassing.
So, in January, I made a pact with myself. I, Amy Moor, will use this month of forced rest and relaxation wisely and educate myself in the American entertainment industry.
I watched all the Star Wars, all the Die Hards, all the Lethal Weapons, all the Godfathers, and uhhh, every Johnny Depp movie from blockbuster to cult classic. I watched Platoon, Stir Crazy, Blazing Saddles, Annie Hall, When Harry Met Sally, Man on the Moon, Magnolia, Steel Magnolias, Boogie Nights, Saturday Night Fever, Pulp Fiction, From Dusk Til Dawn, Natural Born Killers, An Officer and a Gentlemen... It did not take me long to start forming strong opinions about these films and the Hollywood professionals that inhabit them. The big picture though is: WOW! The American film industry is awesome! The rest of my revelations are blips on the radar compared to this one, but here is a small sample anyway:
1. I don't like Johnny Depp's work as much as I thought.
2. A New Hope is the best Star Wars.
3. Die Hard is way better than Lethal Weapon.
4. Uh... the Godfather - who needs him??
5. Gene Wilder is my favorite actor of all time.
6. I need someone to expose me to the work of Richard Pryor because I still don't get why every contemporary comedian says he's the greatest.
Well, that's about it! Just wanted to let you all know that I found a way to thrive in the midst of ankle-breaking pain, mind-blowing boredom, and soul-squashing sickness. Thanks to my new friends in the tele.
Now, if you don't know me that well, this may come as news to you, but I am, admittedly, somewhat of a nitwit when it comes to common knowledge. For example, I have been the butt of many a joke when conversations turn toward the cultural canon. Vocabulary, books, band names, TV shows, actors, and movies that are considered common knowledge by my peers evidently inhabit a black hole in my brain. References to media from my generation mostly go over my head. And while my anti-climactic-explanation-eliciting blank stares were coquettish in my twenties, in my thirties, it turns out it's just embarrassing.
So, in January, I made a pact with myself. I, Amy Moor, will use this month of forced rest and relaxation wisely and educate myself in the American entertainment industry.
I watched all the Star Wars, all the Die Hards, all the Lethal Weapons, all the Godfathers, and uhhh, every Johnny Depp movie from blockbuster to cult classic. I watched Platoon, Stir Crazy, Blazing Saddles, Annie Hall, When Harry Met Sally, Man on the Moon, Magnolia, Steel Magnolias, Boogie Nights, Saturday Night Fever, Pulp Fiction, From Dusk Til Dawn, Natural Born Killers, An Officer and a Gentlemen... It did not take me long to start forming strong opinions about these films and the Hollywood professionals that inhabit them. The big picture though is: WOW! The American film industry is awesome! The rest of my revelations are blips on the radar compared to this one, but here is a small sample anyway:
1. I don't like Johnny Depp's work as much as I thought.
2. A New Hope is the best Star Wars.
3. Die Hard is way better than Lethal Weapon.
4. Uh... the Godfather - who needs him??
5. Gene Wilder is my favorite actor of all time.
6. I need someone to expose me to the work of Richard Pryor because I still don't get why every contemporary comedian says he's the greatest.
Well, that's about it! Just wanted to let you all know that I found a way to thrive in the midst of ankle-breaking pain, mind-blowing boredom, and soul-squashing sickness. Thanks to my new friends in the tele.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
To All the Long Shots!
Music Credits: SF based Mahgeetah off their "State" EP "Long Shot", Video Credits: Ryan Ovadia
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