Runner's Walk Of Shame

What is it they say about life giving you lemons? Take them and throw them on the ground and jump up and down on them until they are mush. Yeah... that sounds about right. 

Yesterday, my friend Amy and I ran up Jesusita. On our way back down, we talked about the "Runner's Walk of Shame". C'mon, admit it: If you have ever been a runner, you totally know what I'm talking about. That moment when your hip cramps up or you realize you didn't fuel properly for a 2-hour uphill run. You push past the pain, but you notice that your pace is getting slower and slower. Then it happens. The running turns to jogging and the jogging turns to a slow-motion Baywatch Pamela Anderson bounce and that... well, that turns into a walk. You pout. You kick the rocks you pass. Grrrrr. You are disappointed in yourself and feel like a failure. Stop denying it... you KNOW that feeling. You relate to that feeling.

This morning, I committed the dreaded  Runner's Walk of Shame.

It all started two days ago. My friend Zack invited me to go run the route to his new trail race series with him. It was a long bike day for me, but I asked my coach if I could swap it out and do half my bike and the rest as a run. He kindly agreed and switched my training plan for me.

Maybe it was the three cups of coffee I had chugged that morning; maybe it was the lack of water in my system; whatever it was, my calf started cramping in the middle of the run. I've never experienced a calf cramp before. I wasn't quite sure what to do about it. I went home and foam rolled. No problem, right? Except it was a problem. Foam rolling it sent pangs of compressing, pulsing pain throughout my right calf.

The next day, I taught a 70-minute cycle class. That was followed by an hour of Pilates. After Pilates, I met up with Amy for that trail run. After the run, I went to the pool to swim 2,600 meters. I noticed the firmness of my lower leg during Pilates, but didn't think much of it. It was not until the trail run that I felt the heat. Shoot, shoot, shoot! Girl, what are you doing? We got to the top and Amy asked how I was doing. I slapped my calf and it felt like wood... in fact, it looked like wood. There was no shake, no wobble, no movement... The problem was clear: My legs are obviously stronger than my arms. Must be all those stadiums, cycle classes and squats. Just call me the calf master.

I remember walking up the stairs with Miriam at Monica's wedding. "Whoa girl," she said. "You have fantastic calves." Yeah, I do. Actually, that was the first time I realized my lower legs were stellar. Thanks for that confidence booster, Miriam!

On to the main story: Last night, I talked to my coach about my morning track workout. "I think you should do it," he said. "But I want you to chug 10 ounces of water before bed and 12 ounces at 4:30AM, an hour before your run." I followed his advice, but when I woke up this morning, I could tell immediately that today was not my day.

"Shake it off, Ash," I told myself. "It's all mental." So I ran to the track. The warm-up felt okay. I was stiff, but nothing seemed too out of whack. Rusty gave me the workout and I joined my group to run 8x200. Odds at :40, Evens at :50. That felt okay, even though I was at the back of the pack. My calf was very tight and my hip kept locking up, creating a weird cave-in of my knee as my right Mizuno hit the track. Next on the menu was a 2k, 4x800's and another 2k. No problem. I could get through this.

Then the first lemon was given. Two-hundred meters into my first 2k, my hip totally locked up and I caught myself and slowed down to a jog. I looked ahead to the group ahead of me... almost 100 full meters in front of me. I heard two runners breathing hard behind me. I pulled over to the football field. Ahh. This hurts. I galloped up the green pathway to Rusty. He looked confused.

"I can't do this. My hip is bothering me; I'm going to go see Kelly today."

I walked off the track and straight to the gym for a good foam roll. I thought that would help make the rest of my 3-mile run home a little bit easier, but an 11:00 mile was the fastest I could muster before the pain took me out. I sucked it up and ran it home. Stupid lemon. It had better start squeezing out some juice before Sunday.

On a positive not, here is my lemonade for the day: There is some evidence that big calf muscles can help you run faster. Woohoo! And life is wonderful once again. http://www.livestrong.com/article/437390-does-having-big-calf-muscles-make-you-faster/