injured runner | My Romance With Running

December 22, 2016
by Amanda Broughton 8 Comments

Getting to know your groin- Pelvic injury #2

I’ve managed to get another pelvic injury just in time for summer! I’d like everyone to get to know my groin even more intimately because it might help you out if you have the misfortune of getting these symptoms too.

It’s because of my injuries that I know any words with more than four letters, and I’d like to teach you about the latest one I have added to my repertoire, osteitis pubis! These two words have made me even more intoxicated by the exuberance of my own verbosity than I was when I learned how to spell phlegm in 3rd form.

Me and my pelvis in happier times at the Auckland Marathon with my friend Emma

It took a few weeks of odd symptoms before I was in any real pain with this injury. When your stomach hurts during a run you have to determine if it is discomfort from an impending poo, period pain, or (aghast!) a serious injury! My first symptom was that I had sore abdominal muscles to the point that it hurt me to laugh, a grave issue for one so hilarious.

My adductors were getting really tight after running, and no amount of stretching would loosen them off, my legs just wanted to snap closed. I blame my excessive chaffing during the Auckland Half Marathon on these tight adductors.

On a long run one Sunday my groin area started to really hurt. I stopped to stretch and started to palpate the area with my finger tips, assuring my friends that I was not taking a break to masturbate. I shuffled back home in pain and cut the run short, something was definitely not right.

I went to see my physiotherapist Fiona and once I told her my symptoms she confirmed what I may or may not have been googling before my appointment-

OSTEITIS PUBIS- an overuse injury characterised by tissue damage and inflammation to the pelvis at the site where the two pubic bones join, resulting in sharp pain right down the centre of your fajita. It is caused by repeated trauma, such as running 140km a week, however, it is not uncommon for a specific incident to trigger the symptoms.

Possible causes of Osteitis Pubis- (taken from reputable medical source)

Skipping your scheduled Brazillian wax for two months and having a larger than usual amount of pubies on your pubis
Repeated trauma to the Pelvis including running 396km in a month, roundhouse kicking people to the face, and vigorous mating
Wearing one old shoe that has done 900km on your left foot and a brand new shoe on your right foot, for a few months before you realise it’s a bad idea to buy identical shoes
Running in reverse and falling backwards over the top of a park bench, landing hard on your PELVIS resulting in trauma.

Resulting bruises from park bench bashing

I have a suspicion that it was the park bench incident that caused this injury, and the above bruises that hung around for so long that I bought new socks to match with them.

To make sure I got lots of tips for a speedy recovery I went to see the podiatrist who said that I need to strengthen my glutes, specifically my right one.

‘So exactly how weak are they, how much will I need to strengthen them?’

‘For the left one, ideally around 400%’

Four H U N D R E D? Not like four? Ya sure about that?

I’ve been managing my injury by doing the following:

Cutting out all speed work

Taking a rest day if I have any pain whatsoever

Buying new running gear. GOLD running gear.

Running on soft surfaces

Running for fun instead of racing

Binge drinking the night before a race so that the urge to regurgitate my drive-thru McChicken is greater than my urge to run fast

Aquatic jogging

I really dislike aqua jogging. The only thing good about it is watching people flailing about in the slow lane. Don’t get me wrong, I would look just as bad trying to move through water. But I’m not, I’m watching other people suck at it, and I will enjoy frantically paddling and barely moving, supported by my bright blue foam belt, bobbing around upright and superior amongst the elderly. You also need to have sorted out your two months of skipped brazillians if you are going to be wearing swimming togs.

Because I have been running for a few years now, I know my body and I know when something is not right. I know the difference between pain and discomfort, and in this case that has saved me from potential months off running because I went to the physio as soon as I was in pain. I am managing this injury well, and plan to be running a little bit over the summer then back in to high intensity and higher mileage before my friend Hinano gets too fit and steals back all my Strava CR’s (So April at the very latest!).

Hip -Hip Hooray for Pelvis recovery!

February 16, 2015
by Amanda Broughton 7 Comments

You’re Crowning! I can see a head!

A week ago I was about to graduate from my ‘back to running’ program. I had been sticking to it for 95% of the time, for 90% of the program before I was placed at the start of the Blue Lake Trail in Tarawera, with a fly trail honey in a LuluLemon crop top and matching speed shorts.

Bambi running through the forest

Sunshine, pungas, a crystal Blue Lake, runboners coming from all sides after watching a few hundred crazy people run an Ultra Marathon. The mood was set, the odds were stacked against me, and I cheated the program.

A view of Green Lake from the Track around Blue Lake. You’d go there.

Running across the beech forest floor in my favourite yellow shorts, shoulders burning in the heat, sweat trickling over my lips and Hinano yelling ‘This is the banana I remember!’ as we circled the lake with fresh legs, floating feet and Colgate grins.

About ten minutes in to the glorious dream-sequence of a run I tripped on a rock/my runboner and landed almost exactly on the right side of my Pelvis. LOL. (Is Cry Out Loud a thing?) Very COL to land on the fractured side, good show.

The tiny drips of blood don’t do justice to the pain, I swear.

On Sunday the 8th of February at 9.54am, covered in blood, crying, and blinking in the bright light, Amanda the runner was re-born. She arrived two weeks early but is healthy and gaining weight. A special thanks to Hinano Andrews Runwife for overseeing the rebirth and ensuring a smooth delivery.

Aside from a few scratches I didn’t have any pain after a steady hour on the trails, you could not wipe the smile off my face that day.

I had taken the recovery very, very slowly, and I think to finish the most boring running program in existence would have been a little pointless as things have well and truly healed. Hear that? The sound of justification, let it echo around the room and bounce off the piles of running shoes on the floor and the race numbers hanging from the wall.

Squeeeeeeeee!

I am being really cautious in starting to train again, it would be easy to try pushing myself to go faster and longer but that will come back eventually. I have a new program to follow, and aside from actually STICKING TO IT AMANDA the key points are;

Increase mileage by only 10% per week
Don’t do any hard runs up or down hill. (As long as you don’t get a CR then it isn’t a hard run)
Listen to Kevin, Inge, and all the other people who know all the things
Keep up with the cross training (cycling, swimming, aqua jogging)
Buy new running gear because if I look fresh I will run fresh
Bitch out while I can. I do one KM repeat while my training group do five and I expect just as much if not more praise.
Spend my next pay on a new Garmin. Because cadence. And because if I get lost driving around Rotorua I probably need extra help with navigation.

Seven months ago my km repeats were around 3.33, now they are about 3.49. It’s not bad really, it’s the fact that you do them on a track where fifteen seconds looks like half a lap and by the time you finish your rep everyone else has had time to put on party hats and get stuck in to a chocolate cake.

http://instagram.com/p/zDgytkDqRF/

I am a lot more aware of imperfections in my form, and have been spending a lot of time on flexing my ~~guns in front of the mirror before I run them off in training~~ hip flexors, they are so incredibly tight right now. Physio knows best, and I have been working hard on getting things functioning properly so that I don’t get injured that badly again.

I am back to where I was a little under 2 years ago in terms of total mileage per month, but a lot slower, and not running as far. I have done it before, so I have the experience and I know I can do it again.

After my third steady run I have managed to somehow spit into the inside of my sleeve so I can tell it’s going to be a lot of fun getting back in to training. The spit, the snot, the chafe, the blisters, the toenail fatalities. Running I have missed you!

January 5, 2015
by Amanda Broughton 6 Comments

A Running blog by a non-runner

I’ve just passed the six month mark post-pelvis-phuck up!

I thought that when I went to Fiji in November that I would be running around the islands underneath palm trees at 5am before the sun got too hot. I thought that I would be building back up to doing a half marathon by February.

Like hell.

Having a mope with my duty free puku by the pool in Denerau Fiji

Lately I have been asking myself why I am even bothering with the rehab to run again. What for? I can walk, I can swim, I can binge watch three seasons in a weekend of Sons of Anarchy, I can do so many other things, so why focus on trying to do that one thing that my body doesn’t want to let me do? I’ve been swimming so much that my back won’t zippity zip in to my dresses. I simply can’t reach across it’s vast expanse of rippling muscles to sunblock the entire thing, resulting in patchy burnt bits.

#BigRippedBackProblems

The Podiatrist filmed me running in December so that he could see how everything was working post-injury. It feels a bit weird running, my knees get sore, and my vast muscular back has a big kink in it, but I just thought that was something to do with being unfit. Or perhaps since I’m all super buff now it’s just too much weights, not enough speed work?

I watched the video the podiatrist made, and to be putting it mildly I look like Quasimodo. He made me tuck my singlet in to my shorts for the film, just in case I had some swag left, he cleared it all right away. Everything is tilting at odd angles, and my style is completely different to when I could run. I can’t run! The Physiotherapist’s words from the day of diagnosis echo in my ears like the ghosts of Pelvis Past, ‘When you can run again, it will be like you have never run befoooorrreeeee. Neverrrrrrrrr’

I hate when other people are right, and you can specifically remember the words they used when you were scoffing at them for not being right. Good brain, remember that so you can rub it in.

I know how both the Stallion and the Donkey feel

I think it takes an afternoon of whining and tears, followed by a stern lecture to get back on track sometimes and realise how far you have come in recovery. A friend reminded me of this; Successful people always deal with failure, that failure is a part of what is making them successful. The ability to deal with it, learn from it, and move on is why you succeed. You can play it safe, don’t take any risks, and you’ll never have to fear losing something.

But why would you want to do that? If you’re pushing your body to it’s physical and mental limits, you’re going to have to toe the line, and you’re going to cross it a few times before you figure out exactly where it is. And then, of course, the line will move.

My walkrun program has been progressing at donkey’s pace. Every third day I put on my running kit, lace up my shoes, strap on my Garmin and walk to the top of my street to a grass field. I walkrun laps of it according to the dreaded program. I feel ashamed to be walking and jogging in a continuous loop, I should be out around the Bays dodging balance bikes, overtaking people doing intervals, jumping over dog poo smears and yelling ‘SCUSE MEEE! as I stealthily run up behind elderly women on their lunch time power walks.

The grassy field/prison where I complete my walkruns

Because I’m not going to be running a 90 minute half marathon any time soon, I’ve decided that six months off is enough to completely reset my relationship with running, and start fresh.

I’m going to hide my Tarawera T-shirt, my ~~participation~~ First female in my age grade with the initials ACB medals, my hydration pack (don’t need water for a 5km run kids!) and my heart rate monitor. I’m going to plead ignorance when someone asks me the difference between trail shoes, racing flats, road shoes and red bands. I’m going to run 9.87km with my Garmin and not understand why one should just run another 130 metres. I’ll stare blankly at people when they ask me what my PB is, ‘Oh it’s Fix and Fogg, I have half a jar of Pic’s Peanut Butter in my condiment cavalry too!’.

I can’t wait to ask the seasoned runners ‘How far is a marathon?’ and my favourite, ‘How fast do you run?’

Hi, my name is Amanda. I’m new here! Any advice you have on how to run would be much appreciated.

November 25, 2014
by Amanda Broughton 6 Comments

Recovering from a stress fracture Act II

Have you ever been really drunk when it wasn’t quite appropriate, and convincingly tried to act sober?

COULD AN INJURED PERSON DO THIS?

You manage to convince yourself of your sobriety immediately, (Pah, thish ish totally buhlievibble) but others who are not suffering the effects of overindulging, can see right through the facade.

I had been employing a similar tactic to this when visiting my perfectly able bodied Sports Physician Ruth; trying to look un-injured. She must have been well use to the scent of strapping tape and ibuprofen, last night’s pool chlorine still seeping from my pores while I attempt to walk in a straight line with my floppy drunk leg then stand on one foot, roll over, and beg.

I went to see Ruth for my check up last week, sixteen weeks after I first got my stress fracture. We sat in her office, with pictures of New Zealand Olympic Athletes covering almost every wall, staring out at me with their He Man quads and their exclusive Olympic Ring tattoos. Ruth performed the sobriety test for what must have been the fifth time now, I wasn’t sure I would nail it, but here goes.

Stand on one foot and sit down, left, then right

Jump up and down on your left foot, then your right

Lie on your back while I poke your Pelvis and rotate your leg/hip area.

She handed me my report card, it’s a pass! Then came the prize, ‘You can start your walk to run program, but I want you to see the podiatrist first to check your running style’. I bounced out to reception and booked in to see the podiatrist, the closest appointment they had was the 15th of December. Nobody can contain a run boner for that long. Nobody.

I phoned Mr Podiatry myself and got an appointment for the upcoming Sunday. I would need to run to be able to have him see my running style. A PARADOX! Don’t run until he sees you run. Run a little bit beforehand so he can see how you run and you’re not totally gammy from four months off. What to do?

This is what ~~the back to running program~~ FUN looks like!!

The instructions are to do each level of exercise four times, with a day in between each runwalk. Under those instructions this program will take me ten weeks, which seems like an incredibly long time. Anyone who has trained me or trained with me will tell you straight away that I am terrible at sticking to a program, but with this one I am going to break (or heal) the mold.

Ben came with me for runwalk #1. We drove out to Owhiro Bay, one of my favourite places to run and did a few stretches before starting off on the 9 minute walk. As the timer got closer to 9 I was counting down the seconds until I could start that glorious golden minute of running, 8.57, 8.58, 8.59, RUN!

Owhiro Bay

Wind not quite in my hair, legs feeling like they have aged while they have been in storage, over thinking every step, trying to enjoy that little burst of activity before the sixty seconds ended and I was back to a walk. I was really excited about starting a new stage of rehab, and I still am but with each step you have a new ascent, you start from the bottom and you climb all over again until you can see the next peak.

I still have a long way to go to get back to where I was in July, but look how far I’ve come already!

My recovery calendar

I have been marking this calendar off with my Sharpie each morning pre-porridge/paper/poo, and watching as the days and weeks fall behind, the bad days disappear and the milestones keep coming.

Crutches are gone after 8 weeks
I can swim using my legs, and I can Aqua jog, cycle, you name it!
I CAN RUN! I run across the road to beat the lights, I chase people, I run in to the ocean
I don’t cry any more, not about being injured anyway. Just over tear jerking X-Factor performances on Youtube

The fact that I can walk 2 km to the pool, swim with my new legs then walk all the way back is a pretty big deal. No more Taxi rides, no hobbling to catch the bus and no more crutches skidding on the slick tiles in the pool. Every day I’ll get a little stronger, and eventually I’ll be back and chasing those PB’s, and having adventures on trails again with my running buddies who I have been missing (and have surely been missing me) so much!

November 3, 2014
by Amanda Broughton 18 Comments

Practical travel tips for visiting the land of Pool

My first memories of swimming are at the Takitimu Community Pool in Ohai. I was five, my little legs couldn’t reach the bottom and I would hold on to the rail all the way along the edge of the pool. I flat out refused to put my head under the water (it ruins your curls). The pool was heated with coal from the local coal mine, and instead of inflatable toys or floatation devices to play with we had wine bladders. Whoever took it upon themselves to drink enough goon sack to give those twenty little kidlets some pool toys should be made Mayor of Ohai, a job well done. As far as I know, nobody went on to become a competitive swimmer, but everyone is pretty decent at drinking booze.

Freyberg Pool in Wellington, where I am attempting to become a local

Not being able to swim well is only half the problem when embarking on an adventure to the land of Pool. It’s like travelling to a foreign country, where you must learn the customs, the language, and the politics of the Poolinese people.

Pool tourists can unwittingly offend local Poolinese by violating beliefs of their culture without ever intending to. If you’re planning to swimingle with the locals, do your research first so that there are no awkward misunderstandings.

BEFORE YOU GO

Put your togs on underneath your clothes to save on time and potential nip-slips in the changing room. Forget to pack spare underwear. Remember to pack a pair of unused and un-adjusted goggles, a swimming cap, an inappropriately sized towel and something to drink; the water that you swallow doing laps isn’t the best for hydration.

My pool kit, complete with souvenir Wellington Marathon towel for proof of sportiness

Travelling is always more fun with a friend, so grab a mate who you are pretty sure is a terrible swimmer and totally foreign to the land of Pool. This way you can sympathise with each other, and band together if the locals give you any stick.

Check the lane timetables so that you don’t turn up at 6 am to start Aqua Jogging only to find that all the lanes are chock-full of swimming squads, and there is no space for you to meander along with your floaty belt apparatus.

TOUR GUIDES

For $30 per half hour (or thereabouts) you can enlist the services of a local to help you to get acquainted with the pool. The tour guides can spot a tourist a mile off, and the good ones will notice you struggling and come to offer their help. This is how I met Dougal, my lovely, patient swimming tutor. With his expert knowledge I have been able to go from swallowing 3 litres of water over 11 lengths, to drinking a mere 500ml over 54 lengths. You may also be able to arrange payment for your tour guide using wine, the Poolinese seem to enjoy this beverage.

Dougal is a life saver!

ETIQUETTE

The land of Pool uses a class system, and categorises people in to slow, medium, and fast. There is also a lane for Aqua Jogging which at times will attract the people who are not coordinated enough for the slow lane. These people are of great value as they become spectacles for the upright bored-out-of-their-minds aqua joggers.

Use the appropriate lane. If you are doing one of the following strokes; breast stroke, dog paddle, or ‘bird caught in fishing net’ then please do not do this in the fast lane. The fast lane is that magical lane right in the middle of the pool, where people who have huge backs and tiny waists frolic, have hilarious banter, and glide through the water like Maui dolphins. If you are new you should stick to the slow lane, where you won’t feel ashamed about taking breaks after one lap, and most of your fellow lane buddies are also more like eels in the gutter than dolphins. These eels will become your new tribe.

Treat the lanes of the pool like the lanes on a road; pull over if you are holding up traffic, or have bad fumes escaping from your exhaust.

LANGUAGE

What kind of lingo do the Poolinese use? When most of your time is spent underwater or gasping for air it is hard to hold a conversation, much less pick up some of the local dialect. Here are a few terms to get you started;

Pull: Place a foam buoy between your legs and pull using just your arms. This lets you focus on training your arms, and your body position. Pull sounds like Pool in Kiwi speak. I must say it’s pretty disappointing when a Pool Boy is a Pull Buoy.

Kick: Use a kick-board and just kick, with your legs. This is slower than a legs/arms combo so remember your lane etiquette.

‘You go ahead, I’m just kicking’

‘No no you go ahead, I’m slow, I’m just arms-ing’

Apparently ‘armsing’ is not Poolinese lingo.

Laps: My logic, and my fondness of rounding up tells me that one lap is one length of the pool. This was challenged by a Poolinese girl I had befriended by the name of Sophie Lee. She said ‘I will just do ten more laps’ then did twenty! What the flipper? I don’t want to change my definition so won’t be checking this one with any of the locals.

Tumble turn: What people who don’t need an excuse to rest do when they reach the end of the pool. It’s an aquatic roly-poly and when you tumble towards the wall you work it out so that you are spat back out facing around the other way and you can keep swimming.

Goggle marks: Proof that you have been swimming. You won’t get sweaty pits or crotch as you do with a gym workout so this is how you let people know you’ve been working out. The severity of the marks will let the Poolinese know exactly how fresh you are to the land of Pool.

Swimming nOObs are not unlike kickboxing nOObs in this respect

DRESS CODE

Traditional dress around the pool complex is quite minimal, less is more when you are dragging yourself through water. It is also possible to wear a combination of tight lycra, latex, and rubber while slapping things and still appear conservative in the context of a pool.

Wearing a bikini to swim lengths is like running wearing a bikini; if you have loose bits then things tend to fall out of it. I recommend investing in a one-piece that has no chance of untying mid-length, or a sporty two piece with a crop-top to hold things firmly in place.

For the men, get yourself a pair of Speedos, these are also known as DT’s. DT stands for Dick Togs, I learned this from my Australian friend Matthew who owned a bottle opener that was a pair of kangaroo gonads complete with original hair. He celebrated the masculine physique and if you too want to celebrate all things manly then a pair of these togs will suit you down to the grundle.

A fabulous example of DT’s as street wear by LMFAO

It seems to be generally accepted in the changing room of the pool that it is a no pants zone. Don’t worry about people looking at your rudey bits, nobody cares! The Poolinese people like to test their flexibility in the changing rooms, lifting legs on to high surfaces, and without the shackles of underwear to prevent them getting that extra millimetre of stretch in there. You too can participate in the stretching and flexing, just check the location of the mirrors first, please.

DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

#1- It would have to be drowning. Take precautions against this and get a few swimming lessons. I have been seeing Dougal every couple of weeks and have avoided drowning so far.

#2- Always assume that everyone is naked. Be cautious when running in to a shower cubicle that it is not already occupied by another nude Poolinese person. No surprise hugs in here.

#3- Hitting people. This doesn’t happen (often) while running, but kicking and poking people in the pool is a regular occurrence. If you are slow, you will be hit.

BEST POOL SAFETY TIP:

DO- Ask for advice from friends that have been to the pool. Ask experts and newbies so that you know both what you are supposed to be doing, and what you will end up doing accidentally.

DON’T- Expect to just nail a swimming stroke like you would a run. This sport isn’t a ‘turn up on the day and just do it’ kind of sport. Unless you have gills, just don’t risk it.

Have you got any advice for someone new to the Pool? Will I ever get to swim in the fast lane?

October 2, 2014
by Amanda Broughton 10 Comments

How to break up (gracefully) with running

We’ve all been there.

You think things are going really well in your relationship. You’re happy, you’re shouting at the top of your lungs about how in love you are. You’ve built up a tight knit circle of friends around your relationship, and you can imagine yourself growing old and still being just as much in love as you are now.

Then it’s sprung on you. Things aren’t quite as perfect as you thought.

If I could pick one way to be dumped by running, I guess it would be a majestic, meaty, long run with spectacular views, hills, and slightly overcast to add a bit of moodiness. It would most definitely just the two of you alone, just you and running.

I felt it in my heart that Sunday that things might be over. Things felt strained, something didn’t feel quite right and we parted ways earlier than planned. The next day at the physio things were bad, but salvageable. A groin strain, it would just be a few days. A few days apart and then everything will be back to normal.

My life is ooooverrrr

I am finding this breakup really hard, much harder than any break ups with human boyfriends. Running and I were quite steady for almost two years, it was intense! I would get out of bed for running at 4am, I’d stand in icy water reciting the alphabet, I’d go out at 6pm in the rain while everyone else is at Friday drinks, I’d do anything for running.

I know that others will have to go through this at some stage, so I’m offering my advice on how you can survive a break up.

1.Go on the rebound

Rebound with more pew pew than the 10c bouncy balls that you use to get at Paper Plus. Put your fingers and toes in every pie you can find and try any sport that your injury will allow you to do.

Do three sports in a day, do two at once, dabble in things you had never dared to do before because you didn’t understand them. Work out those body parts that you never knew existed, and embrace the things you ‘hated’ because you sucked at them.

I have discovered swimming, and although I can’t use my legs yet, three sessions a week over the past month has meant I have improved a lot and I’m really starting to enjoy it. The first few sessions were painful because I had terrible technique, no goggles, a bikini that liked to untie itself mid-length and I thought I could breathe underwater, but I am getting there! Pool etiquette is quite different to gym etiquette, I’ll elaborate more on that another time.

I find it hard not to be active, so swimming has been fantastic. If you are wondering why I try to keep going despite being injured, have a look at the person who half of my genes come from;

MUST. KEEP. CHOPPING.

2.Make a playlist

It’s been nine weeks and four days
Since you took my running away *cue single tear*

You will need a lot of Jeff Buckley and James Blunt to begin with, that will get the self pity going and make you feel as down and as desolate as possible. If that doesn’t make you cry in to your Weetbix, follow up with a few of these gems.

Cry me a River– Justin Timberlake
Everybody Hurts– REM
Nothing Compares 2 U– Sinead O’Connor
Hurt– Johnny Cash
Swear it again– Westlife
All by myself– Celine Dion
Iris– The Goo Goo Dolls
Never had a dream come true – S Club 7
Someone like you-Adele
Landslide– Dixie Chicks

3.Vent wisely

If you need to rant, do it to a close friend and keep it short; treat any rants like a speed session. They are necessary once a week to keep you sharp, bang it out and it’s done. Nobody wants to hear about how horrible your life is on Facebook or otherwise, because when you really think about it, it isn’t.

Don’t publicly announce your hatred for your ex-sport, because you’ll regret it later. Saying these things publicly means they can’t be taken back, and people who bear witness will remind you long after the feelings have gone, what you said. If you say bad things about running you will get bad running juju and never run another PB.

I am good at internalising the bad thoughts and only letting out the good ones. I might be smiling on the outside, but inside I’ve been running through a list of my FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFavourite expletives for the past nine weeks.

4. Set some new goals

I cried every day for a month when I was first injured. I was really embarrassed about being so upset at ‘nothing’, and the goal I had was to get through the day without any tears. That was a stupid goal! So I set myself some better goals and stuck a large calendar to my wall, this is how they are progressing so far…

Cycling – ~~in four weeks~~ No way Jose, sitting on the fracture is not happening quite yet
Aqua jogging – ~~four weeks~~ It looks like a crap time anyway, freestyle even sounds cooler than ‘Aqua jogging’
Losing the crutches ~~– 2 weeks~~ It’s been 7 weeks and we aren’t looking too good…
Being completely healed! 11 weeks (Holding on to hope…)
22″ arms – almost there! Really, I am so close.
3minute long side planks, oh hell yeah. – I’m up to 1 minute 20!

Ten inches to go!

5.Hold a funeral

Invite all your running friends. Write a eulogy. Make terrible bland sandwiches on dry white bread and serve them with lukewarm milky tea from an ugly urn. Put all your running shoes in a pile and burn them, use stinky old gym gear to fuel the flames. Make sure you get the running friends to remove their shoes at the door, ‘as a mark of respect’. Secretly burn all of their shoes too. Spread the ashes from the shoes around your favourite running routes, at the gym, and at the track. Make sure you loudly refer to the ashes as your old boyfriend when you are doing this. It’s ok to let yourself grieve, you have lost mobility, independence, time with friends, and you have nothing to brag about on Facebook any more.

6.Meditate, don’t medicate

It’s very easy when you no longer have to get up at 5am to fit in a run, to sleep in until lunch time. It’s very easy to have another wine, when you think ‘Oh, I really don’t have a reason to be vertical before 10am’, and then as if by magic, you start reverting to your student days. It starts with one beer and quickly escalates to ladling cheap vodka and apple sours from a bucket. Lying in bed is helpful if you need to rest, but doing it hungover isn’t much fun. Do something more relaxing, like watching re-runs of Full House, reading a book or have staring competitions with your cat. Retail Therapy is also nice.

Amanda is modelling a new swimming cap and togs, what did cripples do before online shopping?

7. Reclaim your pre-running habits

As above, hello vino! Remember those people you use to stay in touch with before you started putting running first? Family I think I use to call them, and there was another one called Boyfriend. Get re-acquainted with them. Read a book.

8. Stop telling the story

If I had a pre-2006 NZ 50 cent piece for every time someone asked me what happened, I’d sit on Oriental Parade with the sack of coins and throw them at the heads of the people running past.

‘What happened to your foot?’

‘I have a stress fracture in my pelvis‘

‘How did you do that?’

‘Running’

‘What? Did you run in to a pole or off a cliff?’

“Did little Benny Terry do that to ya?’- (followed by an exaggerated wink and a dopey laugh haw haw haw)

I then launch in to the reasons one can get a stress fracture, recovery time, getting stuck in door frames with my crutches and how nice the weather is outside, oh you just got back from running in it? WELL THAT’S FANTASTIC! GOOD FOR YOU! TELL ME MORE!

9.Learn a new skill

I have been doing, of all things, tutorials on how to paint my nails on Youtube. It never occurred to me that people have nice hands and nails because they spend time looking after them. I think running themed nails will have to be next…

10. Be patient

The feelings of hopelessness will fade, and one day you’ll wake up and realise that you haven’t even thought about running for a week. That week might not be the week that you were supposed to be at National Road relays, or any of the weeks you are working inside a gym, but that week will come. It might only come when you’re 89 and suffereing from memory loss, but it will come.

Have you ever had an injury? What helped you get through it? How many people did you murder?

September 2, 2014
by Amanda Broughton 19 Comments

Throwing a pity party, and cleaning up afterwards

I’ve thought a lot while running, about how much I love to do it, how rewarding it is, and how when you dedicate yourself to something so fully, how great the rewards are that you get in return. I’ve thought about how it’s helped me through depression, and changed me from that person who would hide in her room all day, to someone who runs outside in a crop top and posts pictures of her crotch on the internet. I’m so grateful for the ability to run, and I was so caught up in it that I never thought about what would happen when it was gone.

On Friday two weeks ago I went along to the physio. I’d had the X-rays, I’d sat through a vey lubey ultrasound in a variety of awkward positions, and every possibility of injury had been eliminated except for one thing, which was the only thing that it could be. It wasn’t the best news, but it wasn’t the worst

‘You have a stress fracture, most likely in your pubic rami. Mentally prepare yourself for not being able to run for the next six months.’

I picked this picture because the red makes it looks really sore.

After delivering the news the Physiotherapist then did some release work on my right quad with needles. I feebly pretended my tears were because of the needling and electric pulses making my leg convulse, but it wasn’t. I was pretty devastated. The Physio handed me some racy yellow crutches with instructions not to put any weight on my right leg and off I hobbled.

People like to remind you that there are other things that suck more than not being able to run for six months, ‘It’s not like you have cancer’, ‘You can still wipe your own ass’, or ‘At least your birthday isn’t on Christmas Day and people only ever give you one present’. These are people that don’t run, who see running as evil, to be avoided, and who have never felt the joy of a bag of jelly beans melting through the pocket of their tights, or the wind blowing their spit in to their ear.

To the runners, you might as well have lost the entire leg. They offer their condolences, they know exactly how hard you worked to get your running to that level, and they know that feeling you chase that you’ll now miss out on until your body agrees that you can run again.

Technical stuff

To properly diagnose a stress fracture you need to get an MRI, as it won’t show on an X-ray until the bone starts to heal. Two weeks of yoga, spin class, Pump, and walking a few kilometres each day meant that my stress fracture was definitely NOT starting to heal. To get an MRI, you must see a physician (you can’t be referred to get one from a physio or GP). I went to see Ruth Highet, a well known Sports Physician in Wellington. I took an instant liking to her when one of the first questions she asked was ‘ What’s your PB for a 10km?’ None of this ‘Why do you run so much?’ nonsense, this was someone who I could relate to.

See the white part on the upper left corner, that is the stress fracture

Ruth showed me my bones on the screen and said that if I had gone for one more run I would have completely fractured the bone, so I guess I am pretty lucky in that respect.

How does one get a stress fracture in the pelvis? There are many reasons, there may have been 120 reasons why I got one, here are a few contributing factors and I am sure all of these helped me to get my stress fracture.

Your running shoes aren’t right
Running style is not perfect
Your headband didn’t match your shorts
Too much pelvic thrusting. Wink. Cough. Elbow elbow.
Increasing your mileage too fast
You have a vagina (only females get these ones, lucky us!)
Poor or inadequate nutrition
Running 120kms a week

Ch ch ch ch changes

I have noticed changes in my body already, I FILL an A cup bra now! Badonk-a-donk. I have no visible abs any more, and my right leg is slowly shrinking and losing muscle definition with not being used. I’m beginning to look and feel squishy and lop-sided, like a pair of room temperature testicles.

I used to pride myself on munching down a giant bowl of porridge for breakfast, a foot long subway for lunch, then an entire pizza for dinner, and snacks, and pudding included. We went out for lunch on Saturday, and I had my first DNF in almost two years, I just couldn’t finish my fries. I felt so defeated, leaving that food there on the plate. Those perfect hand cut crispy potato fries with their spicy tomato sauce, lonely, and going cold, destined for the scrap bucket when they should be in mah belleh.

I have not dealt with my loss of mobility very well, and I feel really pathetic for it. Where did that strong person go? The one that could conquer mountains, the one that people told ‘You inspire me’, and why has she been replaced with this sad girl who cries and can’t finish her fries? It has been a challenge getting use to using crutches, and a few times I have thrown them away in frustration, only to have to crawl to get the dumb things back. I also get a little envious of people who can still workout, which is hard to avoid when you work inside a gym!

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I haven’t hit anyone with my crutches. Yet.

I think part of why I got so upset with being injured, is that I thought my happiness was directly tied to my running, and if I stopped, I would become depressed again. One day leaving the sports doctors I walked/ crutched out past a group of people playing basketball. They were all different shapes and sizes, some tall, some wide, some scrawny, and all giving each other absolute hell and having a damn good game, in their wheelchairs. Watching the little people in wheelchairs be sandwiched by the big ones and have the ball stolen from them, and seeing them keep playing with the same determination made me feel a whole lot better about my own situation, and I didn’t cry again after that.

Yes, I did buy this dress to match the crutches.

What I can do now (2 weeks in to recovery)

Swim in the pool with a pool buoy only using my arms
Very isolated glute exercises
Side planks- my most hated exercise
Crunches on a bosu ball
Arms, every day. Arms.

What I am working towards

Cycling – in four weeks
Aqua jogging – four weeks
Losing the crutches – 2 weeks
Being completely healed! 11 weeks
22″ arms
3minute long side planks, oh hell yeah.

Happy recovery to me, happy recovery to me!

August 24, 2014
by Amanda Broughton 23 Comments

What missing toenail?

I mentioned in a previous post that I was sure I would see the death of my big toenail a few months after Tarawera. I’m always right, and I was right, as always, about this.

My toenail did die a very slow, dirt and unidentifiable particle collecting, undignified death. There is no getting around how ugly my toes look right now. The nail is making a slow comeback; it’s going through an uneven, lumpy Franken-toe awkward puberty stage right now. My feet weren’t ever model material, but with the added element of missing toenail making a return, something had to be done.

I’ll show you ten ways that you can disguise a missing toenail and have pretty, socially acceptable, non-vomit-inducing feet. If you haven’t been lucky enough to have this happen, keep a few tricks up your compression sleeve for when it inevitably does.

What missing toenail?

Click to zoom in for more yuck

Covering the offending digit needn’t be a chore. You don’t have to put in too much effort really, depending on the circumstance, the occasion, and who you think might see your toe it can be a very simple fix. Let’s begin with a few very basic ideas.

1. Wear socks with bananas on them

Socks are unisex, and come in an array of colours, patterns and textures

Socks are the obvious solution, but what if you’re going to the beach or the swimming pool and your latex swimming socks don’t match your outfit? I have a solution for you!

2. Paint your toenails

Sexy red nail polish. You can’t even tell that one toenail is a jagged half grown mess

Nail polish is fairly cheap, comes in lots of colours, and will stay on your toe until the nail eventually grows out if you are too lazy/busy/carefreeYOLO to remove it, it’s hardy stuff. It sticks to anything light coloured or expensive but will not stick very well to skin, and if you try to paint a ‘fake’ nail on to your skin patch it will only rub off after a couple of days.

3. Add glitter to mask any imperfections

Ruby Slippers!

4. Add a little more glitter

Very glitter! So Sparkle. Wow.

If the toenail flaw is still a bit obvious, you can always go a step further. Apparently you can just put makeup on your feet, this would also do away with your sock tan. Can you do smokey eyes on feet?

5. Pretend a child painted your toenails for you

My imaginary child painted my toenails last night, soooo cute!

When disguises won’t work, the next step to take is to create a diversion. Draw attention away from your gammy toenail by getting people to focus on something else, like how strange you are.

Some of these ideas are only workable in very specific scenarios and cannot be used in everyday life.

6. Toest

Out for a bare foot breakfast? Try some Toe Jam.

7. Toeblerone

Someone’s been through duty free!

8. Potatoes

Roast, baked, mashed, so versatile

9. Toepographical map

Bet you barely noticed my missing toenail here.

10. Eskitoe Pie

For those ‘Can’t beat Wellington on a good day’ days

I hope that you find at least a few of these useful, and if you have your own ideas on how to disguise those runner’s feet and missing toenails, please comment and let me know.

Note: Because I am injured, less time on feet (8+ hours a week) means more time on my hands, hence I have been in many different social situations requiring toe disguises.

I took away a few lessons from this time photographing my feet

If you have a fractured pelvis, take off your beige pants before painting your foot green or it will be difficult to wash said foot in the shower
Acrylic paint washes of skin, or toenail, not patches of toenaily skin.
Chocolate, glitter, and jam also stick to toenaily skin and are very hard to wash off
Don’t tell people that you ate the toest, they will think you are yuck. (Why waste perfectly good peanut butter?)
Ice cream on your toes for five minutes will make them numb and give you chilblains

My Romance With Running

Stories about running

Tag Archives: injured runner