Spring Roll

Wow! Coming back from my morning pace run, I realized that it has been three years since I ran my first marathon, the Mad City Marathon in Madison, Wisc.

I ran a respectable 4:36 that first time out. I also met elite marathon runner Chuck Engle, who's always encouraging his running friends on Facebook to run more.

Six months later, I ran my second marathon, the Space Coast Marathon right here in Brevard County, Fla., my home for the past seven years. I improved considerably, pulling down a 4:06 -- my PR to date.

This anniversary got me thinking about another anniversary that looms ahead like a laughing skull: Labor Day Weekend, when I ran my last marathon two years ago. I blew out my hip at Mile 20 and haven't been the same since.

Eventually, I found a doctor who recommended a series of epidural steroid injections right into my Sacro-Ilial joint. That treatment plus regular visits to the chiropractor and massage therapist, have made running possible. But I am going to need physical therapy to deal with some ongoing joint dislocation issues if I ever want to run another marathon.

And that is the goal. I don't want my sad, tragic performance at the Tupelo to be my last.

But every now and then, life throws you setbacks. The gall bladder surgery set back my training by more than the two weeks it took to recover. Before surgery I was running sub-9 minute miles. Now I'm lucky if I can run two miles straight at a 9:30 pace. But I'm improving, cross-training with bike and swim to rebuild those thigh muscles needed to bring a spring back to my gait.

Spring is all important. You want to strike mid-sole or on the balls of your feet, push your feet off the ground and lift your knee forward, driving ahead with a slight gravitational tilt for maximum efficiency. It's something my running coach taught us over 30 years ago, and it still holds true today. Check out this video on the New York Road Runners website. It is the same technique my cross-country coach at Northport High taught us back in 1974 and I am glad to see it still holds true. I like to call it the Spring Roll.

Form is so important to avoid injury while improving pace and endurance. Run more.

And run like hell.

Going the Distance

I like to run in the fog in the early morning before dawn. There is a quiet to the city, a stillness. Being the only one on the road as the fog rolled in this morning made me feel like the sole inhabitant of the universe.

At least until I hit the Melbourne Causeway and encountered several walkers and a few high school track runners.

By then the fog was thick, and the moisture suspended in its fabric like big fat raindrops

Maybe it was because of the fog I pushed the envelope a bit this morning, running 5.5 miles instead of the usual four. That qualifies as a long run for me, and the first run over four miles in about four months.

And it's the first time in months I hauled my butt over the Melbourne Causeway and back.

I'm not going to crow about my performance, running at just about a 10:45 pace. The important thing is I did it, without strain or injury to my back or right hip. That alone is worthy of a victory lap.

This week is another milestone: two months since my last epidural steroid injection into my right SI joint and hip. Two months and I feel better than ever. Not perfect, mind you. But if I can sustain this regimen and keep working on my pace, I should be close to my old performance standards in a few months.

On another note, had my annual physical. Everything is working great: Kidney function like that of an 18-year-old, great liver function, and a heart like a horse. Glucose a bit elevated, white cell count down a bit. But nothing to worry about. Keep running!

And now, let them eat Cake!

The Deep Freeze

I couldn't believe my clip odometer when it read that I'd run 4 miles in just 22 minutes. No Way! That would put me in Chuck Engle territory. Jim Thorpe.Frank Shorter. Jim Ryun. Alberto Salazar.

Something screwed up inside my ODO between 6:28 a.m. and 6:50 a.m.

Soon as I got into the house I checked the time on the microwave oven. 7:07 a.m. OK, so that's 39 minutes from the time I started my ODO to seeing the clock on the microwave. Even that would be respectable -- my first 4-miler in under 40 minutes!

But taking into account the ODO and microwave are on separate schedules, and the five minutes it took me to stop, grab the paper and unlock the door, pet the cats and take of my gloves, I think I can safely subtract four to five minutes. Thirty-four minutes would be an 8:30 pace! OK, let's say 35 minutes just to quell any skeptics out there. That is still breaking the 9:00 pace barrier.

And, it's nine minutes faster than the 43 minutes it took to run the same same distance yesterday.

I have not run four miles in less than 40 minutes since I can remember. To run it at a sub-9 pace, even more astounding! Give me a moment, I am obviously not finished being amazed at my progress.

I give full credit to the freezing fucking weather this morning. Two long-sleeve sweaters, fleece jacket, ski cap and gloves below 30 weather! In Florida!

And my doctor's care. Those steroid injections into my right SI joint over three months really worked. And the daily regimen of anti-inflammatory drugs. Does Meloxicam qualify as a performance-enhancing drug. What about a glass or two of Malbec the night before?

I hadn't planned to enter a 5k until the Melbourne Spring Arts Festival in April, but at this rate of progress, I think I'll sign up for that race February 5 my friend Rick was telling me about.

And now, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band have a few words for you.

Master of the Universe

OK, so I am not the fastest runner in the universe. Never was. Not even in high school.

But I wasn't the slowest, either.

And as a middle-aged adult, I was putting in respectable times, 22-23 minutes for 5ks, finishing the first half of a marathon in under two hours, hitting a personal marathon record of 4.06 two years ago at age 50!

So when this hip injury sidelined me, I was bummed. I was on my way to breaking the four-hour marathon!

But I had to stop running for a year, until I finally got diagnosed with a Sacro-ilial joint injury and got referred to a specialist for steroid injections. He told me to stop running until he was through treating me.

After my last steroid injection, he advised that I could run again, but not all out like I used to run. Two-three miles at the most. He said my disks were so shot, running for me was akin to riding on the rims of a car after the tires had blown.

I wouldn't want to take a car like that out to Daytona, would I? 

I've got news for him:  I couldn't if I wanted to.

Now, I find myself running at a 10-11 minute pace, barely covering 3 miles in under 40 minutes. I suppose that is what my doctor had in mind when he said to "use it, but cruise it."

Today was my fourth run since he gave me the green light. I'd say my pace has picked up since that first run, and the pain doesn't increase after a run. Those are good signs. My goal is to slowly and steadily improve my pace to under 10 minutes a mile.

Ultimately, I want to get to where a 9-minute pace feels like cruising, not racing.

And I want to lose another 20 pounds. I reached 205 this morning, good for 6'1" but be better. I still feel like I'm holding a 20-pound bowling ball in my lap when I sit down.

Slowly, once again, I am becoming master of my own universe.

Now some Pulp:

Master of the Universe

OK, so I am not the fastest runner in the universe. Never was. Not even in high school.

But I wasn't the slowest, either.

And as a middle-aged adult, I was putting in respectable times, 22-23 minutes for 5ks, finishing the first half of a marathon in under two hours, hitting a personal record of 4.06 two years ago at age 50!

So when this hip injury sidelined me, I was bummed. I was on my way to breaking the four-hour marathon!

But I had to stop running for a year, until I finally got diagnosed with a Sacro-ilial joint injury and got referred to a specialist for steroid injections. He told me to stop running until he was through treating me.

After my last steroid injection, he advised that I could run again, but not all out like I used to run. Two-three miles at the most. He said my disks were so shot, running for me was akin to riding on the rims of a car after the tires had blown.

I wouldn't want to take a car like that out to Daytona, would I? 

I've got news for him:  I couldn't if I wanted to.

Now, I find myself running at a 10-11 minute pace, barely covering 3 miles in under 40 minutes. I suppose that is what my doctor had in mind when he said to "use it, but cruise it."

Today was my fourth run since he gave me the green light. I'd say my pace has picked up since that first run, and the pain doesn't increase after a run. Those are good signs. My goal is to slowly and steadily improve my pace to under 10 minutes a mile.

Ultimately, I want to get to where a 9-minute pace feels like cruising, not racing.

And I want to lose another 20 pounds. I reached 205 this morning, good for 6'1" but be better. I still feel like I'm holding a 20-pound bowling ball in my lap when I sit down.

Slowly, once again, I am becoming master of my own universe again.

Now some Pulp:

Hard Eight

Gamblers have a term for betting the dice will come up double fours in a craps roll. Hard eight. The odds are so enormous that the payout is huge. There's a great character study of a film by the same name, directed by Paul Michael Thomas. It stars John C. Reilly and Philip Baker Hall and Gwyneth Paltrow as a hooker with a heart of coal.

Hard eight is what I ran Sunday evening. For me, it was the first time in more than a year that I ran eight miles without stopping, and ran it at a sustained pace of about 10 minutes. Not bad considering I laid off running for a year and am being treated for a SI Joint inflammation, which was misdiagnosed alternatively as diskitis, lower disk protrusion and rheumatoid arthritis. It's an inflamed joint, and the anti-inflammatories I'm taking have knocked it down enough that for the last four weeks I've been able to run four times a week, with at least one big run thrown in the mix just to see if I can do it. I can do it.

The first few times were tough. I'd run two miles, rest, maybe walk a bit, jog over the causeway, rest, walk a bit, and do the same on my way back. Last week I managed to run over the causeway without a break, a full 3.7 miles. I stopped for a water break, stretched and ran back over the causeway, took one more water break, and then home.

After two days off, with about 240 miles of driving to West Palm thrown in, a barbecue, some kayaking, much beer drinking and a depressing night watching the Gators get torn to shreds by Bama, I was back home Sunday, doing the laundry and decided to lace up -- still running in my year-old-plus Brooks Adrenalines. I can safely say, without any doubt, after tonight that the spring is shot, and I need new shoes.

For some reason, I felt pretty pumped. Bouncing off the balls of my feet, shoulders back and cruising along pretty nicely, until some kid motored by me like I was standing still. I decided to push up my game. I leaned into the causeway incline and kicked it at the top, then settled into a nice amble on the decline. By the time I got to Douglas Park, I thought, why not go all the way to the four-mile point before turning around. Why not go the whole eight mile?



My second attack of the causeway was better than the first. I drove up that hill as hard as I could, and when I got to the top I pumped it before easing into a nice trot down the hill.

The rest of the run was mostly flat with little ups and downs, and it was getting on twilight. A nice time to be running when the weather turns cool enough here in Florida. So I just kept pushing myself, willing the piriformis to loosen up and quit acting like an old codger. I ran the last half mile or so balls out.

And I finished in under 90 minutes. Maybe even 80. I should get a watch. But that means I was running right around a steady 10 minutes for a whole eight miles without stopping, except for some water at the halfway mark.

For me that is a huge milestone on the road to recovery. I was lucky to plod through four miles in 40 minutes or longer when I started running again two months ago. Running eight miles in a little over 80 minutes is huge for me, and that is saying a lot. I mean, my best running time about three years ago was a 5k where I broke 23 minutes -- my best! I used to run seven miles in 54 minutes during workouts. My time at the half-way mark for the Space Coast Marathon was 1:52, and my pace for the entire run was 9:27, for a 4:07 finish.

 It's possible that three months from now, with a couple more steroid injections, ice packs, massage therapy, yoga  and chiropractics, I could be close to those old times. It's just as possible I may never hit that 9:27 pace again, but I'm not saying I can't do it, either.

Now, for something a little different, a great scene from Hard Eight, where the duelling Philips -- Baker Hall and Seymour Hoffman -- test their wills against each other over a craps table:

Rehab 101

So, now that I'm running again, and feeling better than I have in a year, I've got to resist the temptation to fall off the wagon so to speak, and go full out on my workout regime.


That's not to say I haven't pushed the envelope with a couple of longer runs, and one really serious workout this morning where I pushed up my pace, chugged up some hills and ran as hard as I could till I felt like hurling.


That being said, I realized that there are several really good rules to follow when recovering from an injury, especially the epic SI joint inflammation that I've been dealing with.


RULE # 1: Listen to your body. Respect its limitations. You can't just go from laying on the couch for a year to putting in eight-mile runs every day. Run your best, but when the piriformis pings or the knees ache, stop and stretch, walk a bit, and ease your way back into a comfortable pace.


RULE # 2: Drink. Lots. Of. Water. The muscles like water. They need to be bathed in fluid, according to an article read in a recent issue of Running Times magazine.For two hours after a run your body is still in recovery, even as the metabolic rate slows down, according to Julia Lucas. So drink up.


RULE # 3: Feed your body. You've just had an intense workout, and you've robbed your body of lots of nutrients as a result. I like taking a multi-vitamin after a tough workout.


RULE # 4: Take it easy. The hard part is over. Relax. Enjoy yourself. Do some gardening. Read a book.


RULE # 5: Treat yourself. After my nine-miler Thursday, I had a 15-minute deep tissue massage and a chiropractic adjustment. I allowed myself a full 48 hours to derive the benefit of that massage. The New York Times just reported on a study that shows one massage session can cause amazingly beneficial biological changes. As someone who had one of the most excruciating but most beneficial massages of my life, let me say, Om.


RULE # 6: Take your meds. I don't care what other doctors may have to say about the subject, but I'm a firm believer in a doctor-supervised medical treatment as part of any recovery program -- in moderation. The meloxicam (anti-inflammatory) I take every day works on the SI inflammation, along with the massage and the regular stretching exercises. If I need to take a tramadol or muscle-relaxer to ease that piriformis ping, so be it.


RULE # 7: Stretch. Always incorporate some kind of stretching as part of your recovery. I do a combination of yoga and physical therapy positions I've learned over the years. The worst thing you can do is sit around and stiffen up.


RULE # 8: Ice it down. If it aches, alternate ice with heat to reduce the inflammation. It works.


And now, "Body Rock," by Moby:

Better Living Through Chemicals

When I got the injection into my SI Joint (left), I thought I would be tossing out my meds, the ones that have been keeping me going the past few months as I dealt with this excruciating lower back/hip/butt pain.

But the post-procedure instructions had a sentence that meant worlds: "Continue your previous medication."

The technician in the doctor's office, whom I shall call X-Ray Annie, said I should keep taking my meds, but only the pain pill and muscle relaxer "as needed."

Sweet.

For the record, here's what I've been taking:

• Meloxicam, 15 MG
• Tramadol, 50 MG
• Metaxalone, 800 MG

Meloxicam and metaxalone sound like two ancient Aztec potions meant to raise the spirit of Quetzacoatl, and should probably chased down with mescal, but the doctor recommends against combining any of these drugs with alcohol.

Meloxicam is a pretty mild, non-steroidal anti-inflammatory which can have some effect on kidney function output if I take it too long. It appears to cause severe kidney damage in cats.

Metaxalone, a muscle relaxer that goes by the trade name Skelaxin (sounds like a Swedish diuretic or weight loss medicine?), is the gold standard. It doesn't make me drowsy, so it's good to take during the day. I can work and function pretty well on this medication, whereas even if I took one Flexoril at night before bed I would be groggy all the next day. Sometimes they make me hyper. Relatively few side effects, and even the people who invented it don't exactly know how it works except that it has some liver interaction.It a

Tramadol is bliss. It's an opiate-based painkiller that does the trick and still leaves me coherent and bright-eyed. Actually, I've noticed my pupils are like pencil points when I've taken one of these. Gotta watch it, could affect the kidneys.

I will keep taking the anti-inflammatory meds, as long as it takes until the inflammation is knocked down. And I promise to take the muscle relaxer and pain meds, only "as needed."

And now for your listening pleasure, "Sex and Drugs and Rock'n'Roll," by Ian Dury and the Blockheads:

The Roadkill Report

The SI Joint injection today was a big succes. The doctor gave me two valium to loosen up, and then shoved a needle full of fun into the crown of my sacrum, and another needle into a bone spur sitting on my ilium. Instant relief!

But drowzy! Man, I slept for three hours after I got home. The doctor recommended 24-48 hours of rest before resuming normal activitie

So while I'm shut down in recovery mode I think I'll answer some fan mail.

Dear Jeffro:
"Have you ever stumbled over a gator or slipped on roadkill?"
Frank Garza, Northport High School, Class of '76

Well, Frank, that is a really good question. As you know, both alligators and roadkill are savory delicacies among the true Floridians, the "cracker." Or as they say down here, "Dem's good eatin!"

As a longtime resident of Florida I've lived from Miami to Tallahassee, from Gainesville to Port St. Lucie. I've pulverized slow-moving pidgeons on the morning commute, and have smeared armadillo meat across the tarmac.

As a runner, I've seen a lot of those guts and gizzards up close and personal. Recently, I saw a small corn snake that was barely beaned in the head, but enough to kill it. Remember the difference between the benign corn and the deadly coral snakes: "Red touch yellow, kill a fellow. Red touch black, venom lack."

I also saw a gathering of turkey vultures or buzzards murdering something totally unrecognizable on more than one occasion.

They're fascinating creatures, actually. Nature's death scene cleanup crew. Only without the van, toxic chemicals and snug-fitting coveralls and gloves. I mean, they sit on the road, picking at dead rotting flesh until the only thing left is a grease stain. That is some serious, ruthless efficiency.

And they remind me of the vultures in the Disney movie, Jungle Book. You know the ones, the ones with Liverpudlian accents drawn to look like the Beatles, complete with mop tops!


Anyway, Frank, I came close to stumbling over a gator just the other morning. I was running along this quiet residential street that winds along Crane Creek, when I hear this crash through the rushes. I turned quickly enough to see a four-foot gator splash into the creek. Coolness.

And now, since my birthday is coming up and we been talking about roadkill, here's a video from the Drive-by Truckers (note the 40 Watt Club backdrop):

An SI Joint (Burnin' Down The House)

This is it, the day I go in for my steroid injection into my SI Joint. Ironically, my lower back and right hip feel better than they have in months. I have almost no burning or pain in the hip and butt, but no matter.

I'm doing it.

My neurologist explained that the inflammation is like a room on fire in a house. The injection will put out that fire before it spreads throughout the house and burns it down completely.

The attached video explains it pretty clearly, but you'll have to put up with a commercial from the Mormons first.

I've tried for a year to get this thing right, and my chiropractor and massage therapist have been very helpful pinpointing the pain and easing it through manipulation and massage. My chiropractor called it months ago -- telling me the pain was coming from my SI joint.

But they've taken me as far as they can on this, and now it's time to knock it out thoroughly and decidedly.

The doctor will first inject me with lydocaine to numb out the area, then inject a steroid stew into the crown of my right sacrum. I should feel the effects almost immediately. Here's hoping.

And so, here's a great video by the legendary Talking Heads:

Like A Sauna In Here

Running this morning, started at the crack of dawn to avoid the heat. Still spritzing like crazy.

Feeling well enough to tackle the causeway, and just as I'm heading up the eastern incline, two or three dolphins break the surface of the Indian River Lagoon, their black-purple backsides glistening like eggplants in the orange dawn.

Ancient Greek mariners read it as a sign of good fortune when dolphins followed their triremes out of the harbour. I look on their presence as fortuitous as well. Only one song I know of uses the word triremes, by the way, and that's "Deeper Down," by Wilco.



I logged 7.5 miles this morning, got lapped by the high school cross country team and sweated like a whore in church. I guess it's the humidity after all.

Capped the morning run off by chasing down a meloxicam  (15 MG) with a mango/strawberry smoothie. Yum!

Tomorrow's the day I'm scheduled to get a steroid injection in my SI joint. Can't wait. Hope to give the meloxixam, tramadol, and skalaxin the big kiss-off.

This morning's running song is "It's So Humid,"  by 2 Live Jews. Enjoy. And Mazel Tov!

1

The Devil's Backbone

"Ouch! I think I done broke my sacro-crackerjack!"

Had my epidural consult with a neurologist/radiologist today. Nice guy. Very informative. Tells me what's going on is I've got a lot of cloudy inflammation obscuring what should be a nicely defined line in the joint between my sacrum and ilium bones on the right side of my hip. Where there's smoke, there's fire!

That's the old Sacro-iliac, see song references to "The Hucklebuck," the "Lewis Boogie," "Rub It In," and "The Message."

By the way, if you're tired of doing the Booga-Loo or if you're scared of The Swim, you might want to do the "The Sacro-Iliac," by 10 cc.

Anyway, he explained as he viewed the MRI taken in July, I've got a lot of wear and tear on the old spine. Some disk compression, some outright disintegration in the case of one disk, and some still healthy disks, notably the ol' L4-L5 that had been operated on 13 years ago after it blew out while lifting a Sunfish sailboat onto its trailer. Sunfish is the most popular single-person sailing boat in the USA. Go to the Wikipedia article here.

He also saw some mild facet arthritis (facets are the little hooks that link together on the spinal column) and some bone wear, but nothing unusual for a guy my age.

"I can tell you've done a lot of living, and never missed out on an opportunity," the good doctor told me with a wink and a grin. Made me feel a bit devilish, as if he could read all my sins like a map etched all over my spine. Ah, well. Yes, I've abused the old body running, mountain-biking, dropping out of airplanes etc.



But he didn't see any real problems with disk protrusions, and recommended an injection right in the upper part of the ilium. It should douse the inflammation and mend the old hip joint.

I return in one week for the first of my injections. And afterwards, I should be up and running again in no time.

Oh, P.S. I ordered a copy of the MRI and will post as soon as it's available.