Vicodin, Take Me Away!

AKA - "I think I broke my coccyx."

Not really, but it felt that way last night. We had an incredibly busy Saturday that culminated in birthday dinner at one of my favorite steak restaurants followed by a holiday party at the house of my friend M. It had snowed the day before creating an idyllic winter wonderland (and making it ridiculously slippery.)

My wife bought a new dress and accessorized it with some black "hooker heels" (very hot - really.) Admittedly this was not the best combination for a winter night, but we like to live dangerously. At the end of the night I suggested my wife wait in the driveway while I go retrieve the car. Damn, it was chilly. Especially since I decided to leave the winter coat at home. I trotted quickly to the car, opened the driver side door, went to step in and ended up flat on my back.

I landed on my ass so fricking hard it knocked the wind out of me. There I was rolling over and over in the snow-covered road, in my sportcoat and dress pants. I couldn't call out to anyone, so I just lay there, trying to get my shit back together and wondering how in the hell I was going to stand up and get in the car with a broken coccyx.

I got myself up to hands and knees, got my hand on the door handle and gingerly climbed into the driver's seat. I still didn't have my breathing back to normal and when my wife got in the car she immediately knew something was wrong. (She might have known something was wrong when she was waiting for 5 minutes for a trip that should have taken me 30 seconds.)

Driving home, wondering how I'm going to get out of the car, I started to get a damn migraine. I don't know if the fall triggered it or what, but it started coming on fast and that's never good.  When I finally got home it was straight to the medicine cabinet for "Vitamin V."

So now I sit here, feeling like I'm hungover, but without any of the fun usually associated with this feeling.

"Honey, will you please get me a couple more Vicodin?"

Saddle Sores and Sun Screens

Been tweeting back and forth with Frayed Laces about saddle sores. They seem to be the cycling injury no one wants to admit to or discuss, but they fucking hurt. I have been treating one for a couple of months and although it's getting a little better, it's still causing issues. So how do you treat a saddle sore? And what even causes them? Well, before I launch into my moderately underinformed analysis let me say that if you use the googles to search the subject there are many articles on the interwebs.

(Don't worry. I haven't included any pictures. You are safe to continue reading. Or not, if you NEED pictures.)

What I have learned from the articles I have skimmed is that a "crotch" (also referred to as a "groin," but I like the sound of "crotch" better) is a bacteria ridden, horrible, nasty, damp and musty place prone to excessive friction and pressure which can lead to pain and actual owies. (Sorry, slipped into kid mode.) Yeah, so? We are all built more or less the same so why do some people get saddle sores and others don't? Although I'd like to go into a long philosophical discussion of hygiene, training intensity and truth telling, I'll just list some stuff I found.

Saddle position can have an affect. Softness or firmness of your saddle can also have an effect and combined with either too thick or too thin chamois you have a multitude of factors to consider. Many times a firmer saddle is actually better than a softer saddle or thinner chamois is better than thicker. Leg length discrepancies can cause uneven peddling motion leading to a sore on one side. Sometimes a leg length discrepancy is bad enough to need to be fixed with a shim under your shoe on that side - proceed with caution on that one. Sometimes a saddle sore simply starts from an ingrown hair. (Again, check the cybernets for other causes and fancy names.)

How do you treat a saddle sore? There are about as many treatments as causes. Primary treatment - keep your "crotch" clean and dry. Duh? I have certainly ramped up my crotchal hygiene but I still have issues. (That was probably the understatement of the century.) So I switched my chamois cream/lube. I've been using Bag Balm. It was originally used for sore cow udders, but it works great as a chamois lube. I basically spread it on with a spatula because I like to be good and slippery (not really, but I use a lot.) The nice thing about it is it has an antiseptic element that helps deter infection. It's also relatively cheep and easy to find making it OK to use in massive quantities. I have also read - depending on the cause of your saddle sore - in this case an ingrown hair - that acne cream with benzoyl peroxide can help. Desitin diaper cream is FL's chamois lube of choice at the moment. I would seem to make sense to me as it did wonders for my kids' diaper rash and it's baby friendly so it's mild. I have read pros and cons about using rubbing alcohol and some other treatments. Whatever you do - DO NOT pop, squeeze, cut, pick, lick, rub or jab with pointy objects at a saddle sore. You are only asking for trouble and you DO NOT want trouble down there. You are not a surgeon or a butcher so don't play one between your legs. (And if you are a surgeon or a butcher - still don't mess around down there.)

Again, I can't repeat this disclaimer enough, read the articles yourself and if things are really bad in your "nether regions" see a doctor, stop whoring around (men and women) and DO NOT reference me as any sort authority on the subject. I really only decided to write this so I would have a reason to type "crotch" and other euphemisms multiple times.

Now, what's been working for me is the Bag Balm as a lube during rides - again, MASSIVE quantities. Then I shower and service the undercarriage with a nice mild soap. Dry the "area" thoroughly with my wife's towel - I don't want that nasty rot all over MY body. Then apply a little Neosporin + Pain Relief (or a generic equivalent - I've used both.) It's not like a shot of Novocaine to the "crotch" or anything, but it does treat the pain effectively. Some people are helped with a little careful "landscaping" in the area thereby eliminating the "steel wool effect."

As I am sure you're all interested in the state of my "taint" - it gets better when I'm not riding and then gets irritated on longer rides. It's not as bad as it used to be when I'm riding. I actually went with a softer, tri-specific saddle which allowed me to bring the nose up a bit so the saddle is more flat and that has helped. It's different for everyone.

To follow up on my sunscreen post from a few days ago. I had to pick up a new helmet with larger vents to keep my melon cooler. First long ride (4.5 hours) on a sunny day and I neglect to put sunscreen on my forehead. Looking in the mirror I can see three nice red racing stripes. Larger vents let in more sun. Sun burns - especially me. I am dumb.

My tiger stripes were light (my wife didn't ridicule me until I pointed them out to her) and faded quickly, although I have been wearing a hat when I am out so I don't look like a total moron. Good thing that Scape sunscreen works so well and doesn't run into my eyes. Looks like I'll be using a lot of it.

Man Down!

That "man" would be me.

I was out for a run last Friday - 8 miles keeping it in Endurance Zone and finishing fast the last mile as directed. I mean I was finishing really fast - 6:45/mile fast. When suddenly I was airborne - arms stretched out like Superman - and then I was slamming chest first into the ground and listening as the wind was knocked out of me. UNGH!

After I came to a stop and realized I couldn't breath, I rolled over on my back and simultaneously stopped my watch. I lay there for a second while I started breathing - checked to make sure I had all my shit together - teeth, chin, lips: check. Palms: right one shredded, left one sore and dirty but no blood. Knees: surprisingly only mildly scraped. Nipples: intact (Thank you heart rate monitor/nipple protector.) I couldn't believe my face didn't make contact with the ground - them is some strong neck muscles. And then I saw the culprit.

When I was tying my shoes prior to my run I said to my self, "Huh, that one loop looks kind of big. I must be tying my shoes tighter or something. I hope that doesn't flop all over the place and annoy the shit out of me." That little observation came back to haunt me, for as I was flying home on the last mile my toe caught in that oversized shoelace loop and sent me sailing, body-slamming to the ground. Hilarious? Probably, if anyone saw it, but I didn't see anyone around. Painful? Most assuredly.

Being the dedicated age group triathlete with a ball buster for a coach that I am, I got back up and finished my run. That last mile - 6:49. Tha's right!

Ah, but there is more. I biked for over 3 hours on Saturday - easy no problems. Then Sunday I was all excited to run again - 9 miles alternating Endurance Zone/Steady State Zone. It took a while to get going, then it started to hurt. Finally at mile 5 I felt like someone had stuck a knife between a couple of ribs in my chest. And it hurt the rest of the day. So I went to see the doctor this morning. You will all be disappointed to know that I do not have broken ribs - not even worth an X-ray. Probably bruised or pulled some soft tissue - whatever. So now I have to endure being called a wuss (or worse) from my coach. (I'm just kidding - she is very supportive.) (not really - she is really kind of horrifying.) And listen to my wife chuckle every time I wince because she knows what wimps middle aged men are - she works with them every day. I get no respect.

I don't even get good scabs to pick. This was the worst injury ever!

Blaaaaaahhhhhh-rrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!

Well, it's that time of year. The time of year when I start to question what the hell I am doing with my life. That, or it's seasonal affective disorder, but I prefer the obsessive navel gazing and questioning the choices in my life because it makes for a better (or sadder or more self-indulgent - definitely self-indulgent) blog post.

Winter seems so ridiculously long at this point. I know! No one is holding a gun to my head keeping me here, but, as I have pointed out before, all my stuff is here and I really hate moving. And when I say "stuff" I am including my wife and kids and dog and my emotional baggage - you know, the "stuff" I have become strangely and strongly attached to.

Come mid-April it will be two years since I was laid off from my full-time job as a commercial interior designer. At this point though, everything gets rounded up, so - it's been two years since I had a job. I have done some other things in the past two years, but seeing as those were short-term and part-time they don't seem to register or count.

A thought just occurred to me - didn't I formulate a plan for the future a number of weeks back? (The same thought probably occurred to you way before it occurred to me and I appreciate you sticking with this post as this is territory we have trampled before.) Yeah, the plan. OK I just need to work the plan. All right - enough of this then.

Injury update

I will have my next PT appt. on Wed. Since my initial appt. I have been doing my exercises and feeling major improvement. I now walk up and down stairs without pain. I rode the trainer for 90 minutes and felt no residual effects later in the day as I had been - my ass still hurts, but that is just my boney butt. I will do a short run this afternoon and see how everything feels after that. This evening I do my exercises again - twice a day, already did them this morning.

This past Saturday I was supposed to run the Frozen Half-marathon (see Steve in a Speedo's report here) but opted to pass so as to not aggravate my injury or my wife or both. It was a very wise decision as the weather was less than ideal - rainy (gross,) cold (miserable) and potentially icy (dangerous - for me anyway.) I am also happy to report that neither my injury nor my wife were aggravated Saturday morning. (My wife may have been aggravated, but no more so than usual. She is married to me after all so a constant level of aggravation is included with this premium package.)

Travel update

This past weekend my lovely wife celebrated her 40th birthday. This weekend we will really celebrate it with a trip to Vegas with two of her college girlfriends, one of their husbands and a 5-month-old baby. I know and love all these people (except the baby - we've never met) so I am looking forward to a good time. I hope to have some pictures and words to prove how much fun we had. And since I am "Sober Cab" nothing is off-limits. Mmwhahahaha.

January - The Perfect Month to F**k Yourself Up

Not in a good way.

I feel like I'm training like total pro (as in a "pro-fessional triathlete" not as in a "pro-stitute") these days. I have a coach, I had a couple of days with multiple workouts, I am constantly hungry and my leg is fucked up. It seems like January is the month when serious athletes and triathletes get hurt. Just to name a few: Chrissie Wellington has a fucked up hand from falling off her bike on a patch of ice, Lauren Groves has lost the use of both arms after doing an endo in Maui, Beth Shutt is laid up, Erin is laid up, Steve in a Speedo - in pain. Frayed Laces - nursing a sore ITB (but she runs ultras so she should get over it.) Kerrie was "hurt" with a hip flexor that wasn't firing, but I call "bullshit" because she ran a sub-3 hour marathon. (Of course now she claims to not be able to walk so good.) Tasha got a new rack, so her situation is a little different, but I like to acknowledge all the walking wounded out there. Meg - gimping. D - just has "issues." I am not sure they are really "injuries" but I like to include all manner of maladies happening in January. (D - I kid. I am just jealous that you only have to worry about one sport.) I am sure I have forgotten many others who are feeling less than 100%, suffice it to say you are forgotten but not forgotten (whatever, you know what I mean.) So, I must be a "serious triathlete" because I, too, am hurt in the month of January.

Today, I bit that bullet that is healthcare and went to see the doc about my bum ITB/knee/hip. I followed the whole "keep going until it affects your stride, stroke, etc." rule of thumb and this morning at masters I just couldn't take it any more. It hurt to kick and push off the wall and swimming for me has NEVER hurt. (My fly was rocking today though.) I have an appointment with a PT on Friday morning. This will certainly be a new experience. Until then I am on easy spinning, easy running and swimming - as long as it doesn't hurt. I was also supposed to run the Frozen Half Marathon on Saturday, but I will be sitting this one out. It was a "fun" race and I don't need to push it. The weather looks to be questionable with rain/freezing rain a 70% possibility. Why would I want to run in that crap anyway? So, thank you ITB, your discomfort has saved me from different discomfort and misery that would be running in freezing rain.

Let's hope that come February everyone is feeling better and not all sitting around talking about their various aches and pains like a bunch of blue-hairs and gummers at a 24 hour bingo tournament. And let's hope my insurance covers this PT, because that would be more painful than anything my ITB could throw at me.

My Friend Vic

My back is back.

Friday morning I was standing at the bathroom sink brushing my teeth (you will all be thrilled to know oral hygiene is very important to me) and as I leaned forward just a little bit the small of my back went "ZING!" and almost immediately I started walking like my 80 year old grandmother (before she died, god rest her soul.) For what ever reason my back/ass/piriformis started to spazz out. This is just getting ridiculous!

I walked around gingerly for most of the day and popped fistfuls of Advil while yelling at my kids for reasons unknown to them (a sore back makes me really crabby with a short fuse.) To make matters worse, I had a 16 mile run on my schedule for the next day.

Welcome, Vic.

A couple of hours before bed I welcomed my friend Vic into my treatment plan. Vic has seen me through a wide range of painful situations - physically painful, not emotionally or psychologically (my friend Porn helps me in those situations. Ha, I kid. But not really. I am kidding about that, too. But not entirely. I am totally kidding.) Now, I LOVE Vic. He always makes me feel better, relaxed, mellow, totally chill.

Vic doesn't have the same affect on everyone who looks to him for assistance. My sister gets "dangry" with Vic. (You, know 'drugged and angry.') Vic makes other people I know barf. I always offer to take Vic off those poor people's hands. Vic gets about $50 per "session" on the street, but I could never part with my dear, dear friend at any price.

I had Vic make another visit right before bed. Then, at about 3:30 in the morning I was awoken by my aching back - AGAIN! That is IT! I creakily made my way to the bathroom where Vic hangs out and had a double meeting. Then I drifted off to sweet, slightly psychedelic dreamland.

Running with Vic.

My alarm went off at 5:00 AM. Mmmm - mellow. I got up rather easily, got dressed, made myself something to eat and drink and then headed out to meet my running partner. My back felt great (as did the rest of me.)

I pull up to CS's house and she hops in the car. I ask her how she is doing, where are we going, etc. etc. and then I realize that I am YELLING EVERYTHING. I CAN'T CONTROL THE VOLUME OF MY VOICE. I apologize and get it back under control and THEN I REALIZE THAT I AM AGAIN YELLING EVERYTHING I AM SAYING. Then I come clean. "CS, I am sorry I am talking so loud," I whisper, "I am whacked out on Vicodin." She laughs - nervously - I am driving after all.

We get to the starting point of our run and hit the trail. As before, my back doesn't bother me when I am standing, walking or running - it only hurts after I have been sitting for awhile or lying down on something too soft. Vic don't fail me now.

I must point out that it is completely false to label Vicodin a "performance enhancing drug." My legs and body have never felt so strange during a run. I felt like everything was on a 5 second delay. Truly weird. Luckily about 45 minutes in everything was back to normal, but those first miles were trippy - and not in a particularly enjoyable way. I also think I kept talking too loud.

Vic is still my friend. I am sure he will visit again when I have a migraine, a tweaked muscle under my shoulder blade or more back/ass pain. I just hope he doesn't come back anytime soon and I hope I never have to run with him again.

Knock on Kwood

I ran 11 miles this morning. MS wimped out because it was just going to be her and me and I sent an email last night saying I was not sure how far I was willing or able to go. Turns out I was willing and able to go 11+ miles at an 8 minute/mile pace. My easy pace is supposed to be 8:18. And that 8 minute/mile pace was the average for the whole 11 miles - my first mile was 8:50 and my last mile was 8:11 but everything in between was 7:44 to 7:46. I had one mystery mile in there that was really slow, but that was because caffeine betrayed me again and I had to make an emergency stop and I forgot to stop my watch right away.

No discomfort running and no increase in discomfort since - I actually feel better and looser. I will continue to be careful, but I think I can get through without too much trouble. If I do run into trouble, my kind doctor gave me a prescription for vicodin (already filled.) Mission accomplished. (Kidding, but not really. OK, yes, I am kidding. Kind of. Not.)

What a Pain in the A**!

Literally!

Thursday after my promising run I sat on the sofa and worked on my laptop. When I got up my hips were kind of stiff and my lower back was kind of tight. I didn't think much of it. Since getting back into marathon training mode I have been religiously doing my core strengthening routine and didn't miss a session despite my discomfort. By Friday night I was getting out of a chair like an old man. My lower back was so sore and stiff. I was supposed to run 14 on Saturday morning, but was saved by crappy weather. I figured I would just postpone until Sunday.

As the day went on my back was worse and worse. I was taking fistfuls of Advil. And groaning. I decided to go for a short (4 mile) run at an easy pace. It actually felt fine. Then I got home and sat around and it got worse. Saturday night was miserable. My back was so bad it woke me up at 3 AM. I could not get comfortable and I could barely get myself standing upright when I got out of bed. It got so bad I took my last vicodin and hoped for relief.

While I waited for the vicodin to kick in I started to panic. I have a history of chronic back pain. When I was about 24 I had surgery for a herniated lumbar disk. Since I have been running, however, my back has never felt better and if it does feel sore, I go for a run and it feels great. This was very reminiscent of my experience prior to my surgery.

I started to self diagnose. My back really hurt right in the small of my back. Prior to surgery I had sciatica so bad I almost couldn't use my left foot, but I never felt pain in my "back." What I was feeling now was actually a good thing. It meant it was more than likely muscular. My hamstrings felt super tight, but they didn't hurt. My ass hurt. I did a little research on Runner's World, re-read Frayed Laces piriformis saga and did a little self assessment.

Yep - piriformis syndrome. I had upped my mileage and intensity too quick. Dumb.

I tried to do the recommended stretches but just could not do them. I was so tight and sore. Sunday, I skipped church since I couldn't sit for any amount of time and then stand up. Time to call in the pros - I went and got a massage.

I spent the good part of the noon hour with some strange guy's elbow planted firmly in one buttock and then the other followed by him digging deeply into my various hip flexors. Neither experience was nearly as enjoyable as it might sound and I hopefully won't have to do that again soon. But it helped a TON. (Thanks, John.)

It didn't "cure" anything, but loosened everything enough to allow me to stretch, which has already brought huge improvements.

Half-pigeon, frog prince and other hamstring and glute stretches are on the menu a few times a day until after the race. I have to dial back the mileage and intensity this week and then ramp back up more gradually. Back to basics.

Rookie mistakes, what a pain the arse.

Injury Free No More

OK this is such a minor injury that compared to what Maggs is dealing with it barely counts, but for me it counts because I rarely get injured and this kind of hurts. (Oh, and I am currently wearing a skirt and painting my fingernails a sparkly shade of pink.)

I took the dog (the three-legged beast that he is) for a walk last night. As I was crossing our street - which is torn up right now and looks like some hillbilly thoroughfare or trailer park alley - my foot slipped out of my flip flop and I stepped down on a big pointy rock. Hard! Right in the middle of my heel.

The dog - eyeballing me. (The chess board is just a prop so we look all intellectual.)

My street - it's kind of third-world-ish right now.

The rock - or a near relative.

So now my heel is sore. I was supposed to go for a tempo run this morning and decided not to after waking up and realizing that my foot still hurt. (Hold on a sec, I have to hike up my skirt.) I could do a track workout this evening, but that might put my wife over the edge. I may just write the day off to "injury" and run tomorrow. 

It's OK, I'll get through this. I have lots of support and a positive attitude and this shouldn't affect my training. (Sounds like I lost my foot rather than have a minor bruise on my heel, doesn't it? I am such a little girl.)

The Pain of Owning a Dog

A couple of days ago my calf was sore. I rubbed it to try to loosen it up. Just touching it made it hurt worse. Then I had my foot up on the table and I saw this:

The day before, Apollo and I had been playing in the backyard and he came tearing around our big tree and smashed his cement truck size head into my leg. I jokingly told him, "That's gonna leave a mark." Turns out, it did.

20 Miles - Check

What a perfect way to start a weekend. Run 20 miles. This was our first 20 miler of this training cycle and it went extremely well. We negative split the run and negative split the last six miles with the last mile being our fastest by a big chunk. It really shows our fitness level at this time is very good. Running for three hours wouldn't be complete without hilarity and pain. 

Since I have the Garmin, I keep track of the pace and the distance. As we are are getting very close to the end, I am starting to pull away from MS and LF just a very little bit (like 6 feet.) I am staring at my watch waiting for it to read 20.00 and calling out the distance. "19.95, .96, .97, .98, .99, 20.00. That's it."  From behind me LF yells at MS, "Don't stop yet! We have to run to Todd!" I think I heard MS roll her eyes.

When we got back to the car I announced that I was feeling a little bit a of a hot spot on my left heel. I jokingly said, "Let's see if this is a big bloody blister." Then I saw this!

I never get blisters - or never used to get blisters. Apparently I brought home some sand from the beach and it did a little work on my foot. Who knew? It really didn't hurt, just felt like I had a little rub in my shoe.

Needless to say, I had to do a little surgery when I got home. 

Look carefully, the needle is about a 1/4" in there.

That is a lot of liquid. No wonder I feel a little dehydrated.

Luckily, I don't run again until Tuesday. It should be pretty good by then.