We must walk before we run

I'll never forget when I was teaching a cycle class in 2004 and a local artist that came to my class regularly commented, "Those who can, do! And those who can't, teach! And those who can't teach, teach gym!" Just before class begin, I was being a bit condescending about my life and the fact that though, I like all others early in life, had aspirations of having some very important prestigious life; I'm just a cycle instructor at the local YMCA. His comment momentarily confirmed the insignificance I felt my life had become. I worked as a Civil Engineer during the day, but teaching cycle was how I chose to spend my free time. Of course that momentarily feeling of meagerness proved to be wrong, as in the following years I would meet many people from all walks of life in my class. Each person came because they wanted to change something in their life. Many shared their own adversities with me. They would tell me how the class was helping them to conquer their mountains, whether it was fitness objectives or learning to be consistent in training. Many participants indicated that my cycle class had helped them to alleviate an attitude of "quiting".


Today, three days after Achilles Tendon Surgery, I write, because I can't run, and those who can do. I hope you enjoy and that you understand it is as much about life as it is running. This has always been my mentality, because I didn't start running until my father's last two months with Alzheimer's. Running was something new, a bit of therapy as I chased ambulances every two weeks to an emergency room the final two years of my father's life. He died three weeks before my first 5K.


Running became a way of life over the next seven years. I lived for weekend road races like a season ticket holder with box seats. The camaraderie with friends was as important as the runs.

Last year I went to an Orthopaedic Surgeon a few weeks before I ran the New York City Marathon with pain in my right Achilles Tendon. My diagnosis was Chronic Tendinitis. I paid little attention to the problem, probably too little as I continued to run races January through May in 2010. My race times were OK, but the pain grew worse each week. The speed work continued to help me be consistent in races. I loved more than anything running 400 meter repeats and they always improved my 5k times. However, I was walking with more of a limp, as icing and stretching became a more time consuming part of my daily routine.


My last decent race was the end of May, "8K on the Parkway" and I had a 6:33 pace. I was a bit surprised because I had already switched to using an arc trainer in the gym two weeks prior to the race to give my Achilles a rest from pounding the pavement. I was only running twice a week. The race was on a Saturday and the following Sunday afternoon, I decided if I am going to ever get faster, I needed to go hit the track again. I ran that evening ten 400 meter repeats at a 5:20 pace. By the time I was trying to complete the second lap of a mile cool down after the workout, I could barely walk. I knew then, I had done more damage than I was going to recover from by merely taking off a few weeks from running. The following 12 weeks I spent an hour a day in the pool deep water running five days a week. It would help to keep at least 75% of my cardio going. I was searching the Internet and trying everything in the world for Achilles injuries. I started doing eccentric calf raises (or lowing actually) that is the doctrine of Achilles Tendinitis recovery prescribed by most well known sports clinics world-wide. By September I wanted surgery but two more doctors indicated I should try autologous blood injections or platelet rich plasma (PRP) first. In September I had this procedure done in Houston, Texas. I was told not to run for six weeks but after three weeks and already spending 12 weeks in the pool, for my sanity, I had to hit the pavement. I felt a little better for the next few weeks, but as my body allowed me to increase my miles and I was able to return to a bit of speed work test (6:20 mile), the injury felt as new as the day I left the track in May. Finally I was convinced if I am to run pain free or even walk without a burning pain in my Achilles, surgery is my only option left.


As I searched for blogs on my injury and the rehabilitation of it, I found many blogs where others struggled also through rehabilitation to get back to something they love. I also found that after a few months, people no longer blogged about their injury/recovery. I don't know if they simply gave up, or actually healed completely and stopped blogging. I haven't found a blog yet where a person indicated they fully recovered from this type of injury.



A close friend encouraged me to blog about my running and injury and so "Blog One" is here. I know we all like to blog when life is good; it's normal. We like to tell our story when things are getting better. But to be honest, sitting home on Thanksgiving day in a bootcast hoping to at least walk again by January is not my idea of a blogworth blog. In fact as I write not only do I think about all the races I am missing, but I wonder if I'll ever even place in a race again. It just seems so distantly impossible. The only thing I do know that life has taught me is, trust God, trust professionals, and when you can run, do!


So I end this one with the rewrite of Robert Frost's Poem, "Stopping by on a Snowy Evening", which tells my current story as I poetically see it for now.

Stopping Why, on a Running Evening?
by (David Shumate)

Whose running shoes these are I think I know.
That used to run through the village though;
They will not like me stopping here
While this cast keeps still my toes

My little IPod must think it queer
To stop without a running trail near
Between the walls of my warm home
It sits and charges all alone

The shoes and laces question their fate
No this is not a mere mistake
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of ticking clock while lying awake

For now I must resign to retreat
But I have marathons left in me,
And miles to run before I sleep,
And miles to run before I sleep.