1.) Plantar fasciitis. My half marathon training is on hold, has been on hold for the past couple of weeks, and my hopes of running the Hampton Half at the end of February are becoming more and more bleak. I’m starting to think I’m not meant to run further than a 10k. Sigh. I ran 15 feet to catch the T the other day, and my foot flared up so bad, I was limping the rest of the day.

2.) Yoga. Yep, that’s what I said…yoga! Hot yoga, too. Bridget dragged me to a Slow Flow class, and I’ve been three times since. That might not seem like a lot to you, but this is huge for me. Slow flow is my jam right now. I’m terrible at it, but I feel great at the end, and the class is only 75 minutes, so it doesn’t give me time to hate everyone in it by the end.

3.) Giant apples. Literally, almost the size of my head. Or at least the size of my hand. Pretty sure I can make an entire pie with this bad boy:

Giant_apple

My sister said my hand an arm look very freckly in this picture.

4.) My weight. Lack of running is making me think I’m gaining weight at an alarming rate of speed. I’m trying to rein in these errant thoughts.

5.) This blog. Call it winter blues, my hurt foot, or lack of motivation, but I’ve had no desire to post here. Sorry guys, it is what it is.

6.) Vacation planning. Joe and I want to plan a trip for the spring. So far, our front runners are Iceland, a road trip up the Pacific Northwest coast, or Alaska. Other ideas have included Austin, Texas, another trip to Sedona, and Charleson, SC (I’ve been, Joe has not.) Any other ideas?

7.) Sunset Cantina margaritas. I’ve got dinner plans with a friend tonight, and I plan pretending it’s 85 degrees and sunny while sipping a mango marg over ice.

8.) Working from home. I work from home every Friday now, so Margarita Thursdays are allowed. Don’t judge me. My foot hurts.

Happy Thursday!

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Not My Best

October 16, 2012

So, my planned 5 miler was turned into a shorter (3.77 miles, to be exact) run. My left arch was feeling a little achy, and since I’m terrified of getting plantar fasciitis again, I decided to listen to my body and just do what I felt comfortable doing. My time wasn’t terrible, but not my best either.

Hey, I’ll take it! A mediocre 3.77 mile run is better than no run at all, right? And, my foot feels fine this morning. My calves on the other hand….yowza! Sore.

Today is a lifting day, and then I’ll either do my 5 miler tomorrow or Thursday. Sunday is the 10k, so I need to plan this so my legs are fresh as a daisy Sunday morning. You know, so I can blow by all my fellow racers. I’m gonna run like the wind!

Ha!

In other, very important news– I’ve decided my wardrobe is in dire need of a leather bomber jacket. Why, you ask? Because I think they are bad ass, and deserve a spot in my fall jacket rotation.

As most of you know, I have a serious love affair with The Limited. They have this cute jacket right now, and with the massive amounts of coupons I have, I can potentially get it for about 1/4 of it’s actual price.

What do you guys think? Yay or nay on the bomber jacket? Would I look bad ass, or merely look like a giant tool bag?
Your thoughts, please.

………….

I’ve got friends coming over tonight for dinner. We try to meet once every couple months to try a new restaurant. I call it our “Eating Club”, but for some reason my fellow diners prohibit me from telling people that in public. I don’t understand why.

And since I live in a new apartment, it totally counts as a new restaurant. Don’t judge.

Happy Tuesday!

Plantar Fasciitis

November 16, 2011

Hi everyone. Long time no talk.

I’m not even going to try to make excuses.

I’ve been slacking.

I’ve gotten so lazy I haven’t even made a real dinner in the last three days. I’ve been eating frozen chicken nuggets.

But that’s neither here nor there. I’m actually here to talk about my feet.

Oh yeah.

Remember a few months ago when I went on a rampage about “how this is it! I’m going to run race! A really long race! Rah rah rah rah, I’m going to read running books! And buy finger shoes! And run like a man doing Tai Chi! WEE!”

Ok, weelll– I started to do all of that. I did.

I began by reading Born to Run.

If you haven’t read it yet, you have to.

It basically made me wish I was an African bushman, living in a village and hunting antelope with my bare hands.

I was all like “Screw work! I’m moving! I’m quitting my job to live the life of a running vagabond, with nothing but the shoes on my feet and the fanny pack around my waist! Lindsay Gump!”

Thankfully, I came out of whatever dream world I was living in and came back to Earth when I finished the book.

(I mean, c’mon. We all know I wouldn’t actually wear a fanny pack. Africa, yes. Fanny pack, no.)

However, the book did inspire me to run again. (That was the point, right?)

So, I started in on my half marathon training program.

I even switched shoes. Goodbye over-cushioned Saucony’s– helloooo 5 year old Puma’s with the flat sole that I’ve had forever.

And let me tell you, I felt great.

I was running like the wind! I was passing people on the streets!

When I got tired, I simply did as one tribe in Born to Run did.

I would find a runner in front of me, pretend they were an antelope, and chase them.

Except the people on the book were chasing real antelope.

So they could eat. And, you know. Survive.

Me? I was just some creep running the streets of Boston, sneaking up on people, and doing a little dance when I came up on their heels in silent victory.

In my head I’d be like, “Ha! If you were an antelope, you’d be dead! Sucker!

In real life, if they turned around, I’d stop and pretend to tie my shoe.

This strategy was going great.

And then–disaster.

One day at the gym, I had forgotten my new trusty Puma’s, so I had to wear my old, over-cushioned, soul-crushing Saucony’s.

I sanely and rationally talked myself through it.

“Just one run won’t kill me. I wanted to do 5 miles, so that’s what I’m going to do. 5 miles. No less.”

So, I got on the treadmill and started happily running, pony tail bouncing, feet feeling over-burdened and claustrophobic, but essentially ok.

One mile down. Two miles down.

Three miles down.

Ow, my heel kind of hurts.

3.5 miles down.

Why does my heel feel like it’s cracking in half?

4 miles down.

Good God I think I shattered my foot but I’m finishing these 5 miles if it f*cking kills me.

5 miles later, I was literally whimpering like a wounded kitten abandoned on the side of the road.

I limped home, iced it, put my feet up, and assumed I’d feel better in the morning.

The next morning I woke up, stretched, and swung my legs out of bed, stood up…

…and promptly almost fell over.

The only way to describe the pain is– it felt like someone had shattered my heel with a hammer and then lit it on fire.

As it progressively got worse throughout the day, it became clear that walking ever again was out of the question. I had resigned to live the life of a person who never stood up.

I would simply be known as Sitting Lindsay.

A little research later, it was obvious I was suffering from the bane of every runner’s existence.

Plantar Fasciitis.

Bascially, it’s a horrible foot condition, typical in runner’s, that has no cure and has been known to last for up to two years.

Two years.

Never mind all that though. I was all hung up on the fact that one of the causes was “sudden weight gain.”

Not “overtraining” or “bad running form”.

Nope. Sudden weight gain.

No longer was I a stealth Bushman hunting unsuspecting antelope on the African plains.

I was reduced to a chubby, red-headed faux runner who thought running another half marathon was easily within my grasp, until I was stricken with an incurable foot condition.

Wah.

So in summary– my foot hurts.

Real bad.

I guess I could have just said that from the start.