Torture Report: Two Steps Forward …

(G): Let’s call it what it is — torture. It seems I have developed a nagging case of plantar fasciitis that threatens to either make me lose my mind or take up all my time with stretching, icing, rolling and the like.

After last week’s 5-hour run my foot was a little banged up. Not all that surprising since I have been nursing this foot issue for a few weeks now. I got extra cushy shoes. I was stretching my foot fairly regularly but not enough.

Begrudgingly, I walked a mile on Tuesday and opted out of my workout. I thought a day of rest might do the trick. I continued to run the rest of the week and while my foot was predictably sore and tight in the morning and post-run it really didn’t bother me while I ran.

I bought some nifty compressions socks for PF and while they help they aren’t giving me relief in the heel, which is where my pain is focused. I’ve tried and returned several items in the last week all while stretching, massaging and on and on.

Then on Friday the foot ice baths began. Holy freeze your foot off!! This is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I have iced my foot and many other body parts but I have never immersed my foot in ice water with what seems like a million ice cubes. For the first minute it almost gives you an ice cream headache. It’s so cold it’s nearly painful and after about 2 minutes you start to really feel like you’re losing it. At the halfway mark, I am not sure if it feels better or you just know you’re almost there. After 5 minutes my foot is so cold that it takes nearly 30 minutes to warm up. This is dedication to the cause. It’s ironic how much I will torture myself so I am not in foot pain so I can go run a lot of miles so I can experience overall, general pain.

It’s a bit up in the air at this point if I am going to have to bail on the first race of the year. I know for sure I don’t want this to be a chronic pain all year so I am willing to give up one race to salvage the rest. My physical therapist thinks I can still rally so you’ll have to stay tuned to find out how it all works out. I am curious to see which way it goes too!

The rest of the week, aside from foot pain, went well. My training is beginning to slow down and you know you’ve reached a sick point in your efforts that you get excited that your run on Saturday is “only” 90 minutes and on Sunday we were down to three hours. It’s all very twisted, I understand.

A rainy start to our 15-miler but still all smiles.
Out on the the trail finding peace.

And if all of this isn’t enough mental anguish, Swaggy J has decided he’s going to provide me with some mental training lately. On some of our “shorter” runs he’s waited till the end when I can nearly taste the joy of stopping and he says, “Oh let’s round up to the next mile.” That’s great when you’re at 9.8 miles but on Sunday we were 14.4 miles in and he wants to round up? I really hate that. It doesn’t matter what distance I set out to do once I hit it I am done. But now, Swaggy is messing with my mind. So on to 15 miles we ran.

It’s torture all around but if I can hit the start line on April 8 it will all be worth it. And if I can’t, it will probably all be worth it with a dash more torture mixed in.

(L):  Do you ever wonder why every time you take two steps forward it must also involve two steps backward?  That is how I feel this week.  After two weeks of being really good on my eating and working out I had lost 5 pounds.  I was pretty stoked.  And then I weighed myself yesterday and I had gained back two pounds.  I didn’t even hold steady.  This is why I LOATHE the scale.  The reality is I feel pretty good.  I have been doing everything right and then I go weigh myself and I want to take a flying leap into a bowl of brownie batter.  My hubby, meanwhile, drank an entire bottle of wine by himself and nothing happened.  He is down 6 pounds and holding steady even with alcohol on board.

So, I made brownies.  I licked the spoon, bake them, smelled them and let them sit on the counter.  My daughter started eating them.  Once that first brownie has been removed it’s much more difficult to stay out of them.  I opted for not wasting calories on dinner for a brownie.  I realize not all calories, carbs and fat are created equal, but it was worth every bite and no I didn’t weigh myself the morning after.  Instead I made a protein shake and started pounding my water.  I am annoyed, but I will not be deterred from the greater goal which is fit, fabulous, and 47.  I am inching ever closer to one of those goals and I will give you a hint.  It’s not either of the first two.
Onto the second part of my weekly torture and that is working out.  Some weeks I LOATHE working out just about as much as the scale.  I always like how I feel once I get going, but dragging my sorry butt outside or to the basement is often the most difficult part.  Seeing as though I have been doing my 30-minute interval training and eating clean and I gained 2 pounds this last week I decided I needed to up the ante.  My middle daughter was raving about a 45-minute interval running workout she was doing so I decided to give it a whirl.  I think I need more than 30 minutes to get my metabolism running at full speed.  As with any interval workout their is always something you are building up to: that nasty little peak performance part where you have to run 10mph at the steepest incline the treadmill dares to go.  Okay, you don’t really have to run that fast, but it is a pretty hefty incline.  Anyway, I will keep this going and see how my two-step dance with the scale likes this new routine.
Sunshine & Sarcasm,
Lowi & G

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