Run For Your Life

So, what do I do after a day of wellness and self-indulgence? I go out and run 9 miles, setting a 10.8 minute pace, which translates into a middling 5.55 mph.

How do I know all this? I found a great website that calculates your caloric burn at Run The Planet: http://www.runtheplanet.com/resources/tools/calculators/caloriecounter.asp

I'm not crazy about the near-11 minute pace, but it could be worse. At least I am UNDER an 11-minute pace and I knew I ran faster on the first half going out than on the return leg.

Still and all, not bad for a 52-year-old guy whose doctor advised him not to run more than four miles a day. Heck, I didn't think I'd be able to run more than five or six miles in a single outing at this stage in my recovery. It's only been two months since the end of my steroid injection treatments.

I have to say, however, my SI joint and hip ball socket are on fire, and the right thigh is cramping. Ice and Meloxicam are the order of the day, with a side dish of Tramadol and a muscle relaxer, along with some good old-fashioned stretching.

And Gatorade to replenish those pesky electrolytes.

Speaking of: As I pulled a Gatorade out of the fridge after my run, I flashed on the scene in "127 Hours" where Aron Ralston, his arm pinned to a canyon wall by a medium-sized boulder, remembers the bottle of Gatorade he left in the back of his SUV. Great movie. Never leave home without your Swiss Army Knife, because a cheap-ass multitool just doesn't cut it.

Fish gotta swim. Birds gotta fly. I gotta run.

As far as the swimming goes, so far it's been very good for me, toning the abdominal and lower back muscles, working on my upper body. More than likely I will hit the pool later in the day for some laps.

As I close, I'm left wondering what to play for you. "Once in a Lifetime"? "I Wanna Be Your Dog"? How about "Lust for Life"? That seems appropriate.

Life ain't a track meet. It's a marathon.

I thought I'd give everyone a break from all the whining about back aches and hip problems and knee pain until I had something substantial to report.

Now, I do. I'm back to a regular running schedule -- four miles a day, three days a week just to get back into the groove, and I've already dropped my pace by almost two minutes -- from well over 12 minutes to just under 11 minutes. It is a good feeling to move along at a 10:30 pace, even if it's a far way off from the under 9-minute pace I need to set for myself to beat certain people I trash-talked last week.

The biggest news is that for the first time since I began running again, I didn't have that hip socket pounding that had been plaguing me, and my SI joint didn't flare up. That is true progress.

I had laid off running for about a month over the holidays. I was having serious hip pain on both sides, right above the posterior saddle. And the SI joint, blah blah blah. I fought it with anti-inflammatories, ice packs and pain killers and just good old fashioned slackitude. Nothing like lazing around for two weeks watching TV, reading books, eating junk food and guzzling red wine for proper R&R.

But when I got on the scale and saw my weight had climbed over 210, I had to take action. I decided, Fuck this pain, it's just something I'm going to have to live with, laced up my running shoes and hit the road. And it felt like hell, the femur grinding into my hip socket, sending sharp stabbing pain into my SI joint.

Ice and Tramadol followed.

Two days later, I went out again. Ran four miles. Pounded away like a lumbering ox. Ice and pills.

Saturday, I had my first breakthrough. Ran four miles at a 10:35 pace. Ice. Pills.

Sunday. Forty minutes of yoga. No running. No ice. No pills.

Monday. Every muscle in my body ached from the yoga.

Today (Tuesday): Ran four miles. Feeling no pain. Yet.

And now, Ice Cube has a message for ya.

Hips Don't Lie

My body is an ever-loving mystery. All the aches and pains, the quirks, the routines I need to adhere to so I can get out of bed, straighten my back and walk into the kitchen to feed the cats and make the coffee.

As I get older, things happen that can only be explained by the phrase: "Welcome to middle age."

Case in point: I ran four miles this morning. No problem. Actually felt pretty good except for the depressing fact that it took me 45 minutes to run what I used to do in 35 or less on a good day.

Now 45 is a good day.

So I showered, dressed for the day and went into the kitchen to unload the dishwasher. And wouldn't you know it, my hip socket popped something fierce. Not "Ive-fallen-and-can't-get-up" fierce. But just the same, I had to go hobbling to the medicine cabinet for some meds: Metaxalone and Tramadol. 

After I threw down the meds, I hobbled back to the kitchen, pulled an ice pack out of the freezer and eased myself onto the couch for some R&R. 

And it set me wondering: how is it I can run four miles without a hitch, but when I twist or pivot from one side to the other, my right thigh bone feels like it's popping out of my hip socket.

My former primary care physician said it's arthritis, and that the only cure would be surgery.

I don't think so, and that's why he is my former primary care physician. I mean, what is it about doctors who think the answer to everything is surgery?

Now that I've had this series of steroid injections for my SI Joint, it's time to focus on the hip socket-thigh joint. Deep tissue massage has relieved the symptoms to a degree, but there must be something else going on. 

And don't tell me it's just middle age.

So now, for your listening pleasure, Shakira:

Shakira ~ Hips Don't Lie @ Yahoo! Video