How Far The Mighty Have Fallen

I just can’t get the legs to move right. More specifically, the right leg. Almost ten months to the day post-scope, weeks at a time of low-activity, mostly rest/partial rest and several weeks–going on a couple months–post the final bumper-injection it feels almost exactly the same as it did when I first pulled up short and went to a doc a little over a year ago. Amazing what a tiny meniscus tear can do. 

It’s a near constant hurt; sharp, isolated. Similar to what you feel when you bang your funny bone or catch that end-table corner with the knee. A quick grimace then you move on. Only it’s a grimace with every foot strike. With three run events completed this past fall and a couple more on the horizon this winter I don’t feel any better or worse than by doing nothing. Unable to yet keep up with two of the three local running groups (the third is just not up to the task) I’ve been back to mostly solo for several weeks. Several other groups dot the metro area but logistics simply act against me. Solo. No fun I can say. 

Determined to get back into shape enough to hang onto the tail of my preferred group and staring at a long holiday trip I dedicated last week to some hill work. I have mostly closed the chapters on both speed work and hill repeats—-but rolling up and down hills as part of runs seems to be ok as long as I gingerly descend. That’s probably going to be the most efficient way to get back into shape through the winter while it’s right on the edge of too cold to bike much. By too cold I mean this area is ripe with black ice–on a regular basis. No snow–but just enough drizzle and rain to overnight freeze rendering the trails a life hazard. And forget about trying to navigate traffic with patches of ice on streets. So grind up a few hills to kickstart the heart rate till spring or until I can grab onto the back of my preferred running group; whichever comes first. That’s the plan.  

Probably Quartzite – Rock Creek

My loyal training partner, Samantha, has been the true beneficiary of my dilemma. She’s sleeked down to the point her hips bones are starting to show! Yikes–I’ve been jacking up her feeding but not enough apparently. We did the neighborhood a couple days this week and hit a couple other places in pursuit of variety. And find it we did. 

One day we landed at my all-time favorite park–ever. If I had to design a park it’d be like Rock Creek—-even the traffic, as horrible as it is, can be excused because of the weekend car-free zones. From the trees to the trails (paved & unpaved) to the horse fields to the shelters to the historical markers to the variety of topography it’s tough to beat. Maybe put a coffee stand, or three, somewhere. God it’d be great to sit under a shelter with a cup after a ride or run and people watch.

No Snow in RockCreek!

 Makes it much less creepy than my usual sitting on a picnic table.  For as incredibly dense as the foliage is and as urban as it is it’s considered a relatively safe place. Some may disagree–the occasional incident happens and recently a dead body was found in the park. I’ve always felt safe even when completely alone deep in the trails.
Trails thick with leaves it was a challenge to look around and enjoy the views while watching for barriers. Almost struck the right balance—I only tripped and fell once. It is, after all, Rock Creek Park.   A beautiful full forward somersault loaded with Sam hopping around me, me cursing, bruised leg and scuffed hands. Fortunately a felled tree would have kept me from rolling further down the hill had it come to that. After dusting off and making sure only Samantha was a witness I doubled back to look for the culprit. Pretty sure it was this rock hidden under the leaves.

Stone Bridge Over Bull Run

Old Stone House – Matthews Hill

Another day we headed a bit out of the beltway for a change of pace. We landed at the site known for giving Confederate General Thomas Jackson his better known moniker of General Stonewall Jackson. Over 5000 pristine acres just a few miles west of the edge of noise and traffic hell that defines the D.C. area. With the damp fall we’ve had so far I prepared plenty–change of clothes and towels. Forgot a spare pair of shoes which won’t happen again. With early dusk we only had time to complete one of the sets of trails so we opted for the First Manassas Battlefield loop, mostly because it’s less easy to get lost on the off-the-path horse trails than the Second Battlefield trails. Within a quarter mile mud was spattered on my shins and calves. Within half-mile my socks were drenched and a nasty brown. Fortunately deep in the woods much of the snow remained–sort of. We ran into four other runners–two singles and a pair–, two dogs and four tourists. Perfect–a rare occurrence without ankles to elbows people when out for a run.

End of my week of (relative) hills gave me just over 1000 feet of climbing. Yikes–I have a long way to go if I think a few hills are really going to get me where I want to be:

Ave Pace: 9.15
Total Time: 4 hrs, 18 minutes
Ave HR: 151
Calories: 3956
(low, low pace + high relative HR = decent hills)

In Flight @ Manassas Battlefield

Took five days to get those meager results. Three years ago in a five hour period in a single day I had more than 6500 feet of climbing. Be tough to ever get back to that level.  While I once had myself fooled it’d last forever—unbeatable (you know, relatively speaking…) Good thing a few other distractions have come up to occupy my time.