Sunday, July 20: Rest.
Monday, July 21: Cross Training.
After being forbidden from running until I saw my PT again thanks to my back pain, I dragged myself to the gym and withered away on the elliptical once again. My back felt a little sore, but not at all like it had felt Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. Moving in the right direction!
Tuesday, July 22: Dance.
My back didn’t bother me at all on Tuesday, which was great! My knee, however, was a disaster zone. I sat too much at work and paid for it. Moving around helped a bit, but my knee was sore throughout dance, after dance, and actually stayed sore through Wednesday morning. Not ideal. BUT BUT BUT you guys! Let’s not worry about my knee. Let’s talk about the REAL news from Tuesday.
As I waited for hip hop to begin, my teacher called me to tell me he was running late and wanted to know if I could warm up the class. These sorts of things have happened before, but there were always dancers more advanced than I in class that he’d ask to do the warmup. None of them are in class this session, though, so the responsibility fell to me. This, in and of itself, would’ve made Tuesday the best day of my life, because all I’ve wanted for so long was to feel like a legit dancer, and nothing makes you feel legit quite like having your teacher trust you to warm everyone up. BUT THEN, when I went to turn off the music I had playing on my phone:
My teacher ended up not making it to hip hop at all (but did show up for breakdance, thank goodness), so I subbed for him for the entire length of class. aka Tuesday was, without question, THEE biggest moment of my dance life up to this point, and possibly of my life just in general. I taught class! ME!! It was so exciting, you guys. I’m still not over it.
Wednesday, July 23: Cross Training + Physical Therapy.
By this point in the week, my back felt a lot better, but since both my PT and the PT I saw last Saturday told me to not run until after my next PT appointment, I, once again, put in some time on the elliptical. On the bright side, I’ve read so much Runner’s World over the past few weeks thanks to all my elliptical time. I’m still wildly behind, but at least I’m making progress!
After the gym, I went to the PT. He didn’t seem all that concerned about my back, but since my PFPS didn’t magically go away over the course of the week, he told me I needed to make an appointment with my sports doctor. Boo, hiss, etc. So long, hard earned money. I barely knew ye.
In addition to giving me a nice collection of bruises along my IT band, my PT hooked me up to the E-stim machine on Wednesday. I long ago lost track of how many visits I’ve paid to PT, but never in my time there have I had E-stim. To be honest, if I never have it again, that’d be quite all right with me. Maybe I’m just crazy, but I didn’t enjoy having electrical currents shot through my legs on five second intervals for 10 minutes. It was weird and uncomfortable and I didn’t like it one little bit.
Thursday, July 24: 6 miles in 1:03:03 for a 10:30 pace.
Meh. My PT said it’d be fine for me to run on Thursday, so I did, but it definitely could’ve gone better. My patellar tendon in particular was quite sore, and my toes went numb, because of course they did. I really debated whether or not I should do all six miles, but I didn’t feel injured enough to not do it, soo…I did it. Having such a lousy run after a week off put me in a rotten mood, though, and did not do me any favors in the confidence department.
Friday, July 25: Physical Therapy.
Good thing: I did not acquire any new bruises at PT, and my PT gave me permission to run on Saturday. Bad thing: my PT did Astym on the bottom of my foot, which is THE WORST. Guh. Astym is this rehab technique where the PT basically scrapes at your muscles/tissues/whatever, and while I’d never use the word “comfortable” to describe Astym in any location (and I’ve had it all over the place — my hip flexor, my knee area, my IT band, my calves, my foot), it is FAR AND AWAY the worst on the bottom of my foot. Somewhere in the growing up process being ticklish stopped making me laugh and just instead made me wildly uncomfortable and squirmy, and that’s basically how I feel when I have Astym on the bottom of my foot.
Saturday July 26: 5.8 miles in 1:00:18 for a 10:24 pace + 6.2 miles in 1:03:17 for a 10:11 pace.
I ran the BTN Big 10K on Saturday (the 6.2 — recap coming tomorrow), but had 12 miles on my schedule. At the delightful hour of 5:15 a.m., I met up with another girl in my CARA pace group, and we ran from Fullerton to the race site at 18th Street to make sure we hit 12 miles for the day.
I did this last year as well and really don’t mind breaking up the run this way (I also think telling my PT, “Well, yes, I’m running 12 miles, but they’re not 12 consecutive miles,” helped my cause for getting clearance to run 😉 ). Not only does it make me feel SUPER hardcore to arrive to the race and be all, “Yeah, I actually ran here *brushes shoulder off*,” but this year in particular it was fun to do that with company. We kept each other on pace and chatted the whole time, which made the hour fly by. Most importantly, I experienced zero knee pain or foot numbness on the run (and the subsequent 10K). Woo! I also went to dance later in the day, because obviously 12 miles was not nearly enough activity for one 24-hour period (and I needed to use up my last class credit before it expired).
So. Who knows what’s going on with my body. I have an appointment with the sports doc this week, where I’m hoping I’ll get a simply confirmation diagnosis of PFPS (and be sent back to PT, I imagine) and be on my merry way. Though my knee has started to cooperate more on runs (Thursday being an exception), I still have a lot of trouble sitting for extended periods of time. I was on the train for a little over half an hour on Saturday, for example, and when I got off I genuinely didn’t think I’d be able to walk the few blocks to my destination. Even though my knee pain isn’t impacting my running all that drastically at the moment, it’s definitely impacting my general life, and I’d prefer for that to not be the case.