Morning glory

I am not sure how others feel about this, but whenever I hear the term run (or workout) and morning in the same sentence I think - wow - committed!  I am a middle of the day kind of gal and fail to comprehend how people can be motivated enough to torture themselves so early on. Well, I became that person last Friday and will do so again tomorrow - certainly not by choice, but by circumstance.  When faced with being an extra hour early at the office (because of my husband's work schedule) I decided to get my butt to the gym to complete a run.  Last week my feet hit the treadmill at 6:30 am and to my utter shock, plenty of other people were already there.  The gym was certainly not as busy as it would be at lunch, but there was a decent sized crowd.  This was both comforting and horrifying - how can one willingly move at a faster-than-shuffle pace at such an early hour?  Looks like I was just as sadistic as the others - the difference being that my enjoyment level was zero.

One would think that 45 minutes would be sufficient time to complete a 2k walk/run.  Well, not if you have IBS!  This is when the gym membership becomes really worth it.  The bathrooms are in close proximity, your husband does not have to be on stand-by should you come close to losing your ... and you do not have to do the strip and dash as you waddle through the door on your way to the toilet.  The only thing you really have to plan is a treadmill with an easy exit, preferably with no one on either side should indications of your issues escape your control.  Also, you must leave the treadmill quickly enough that it looks like you are a puker (to my thinking this is the only acceptable excuse for not having time to wipe down your machine and is more socially acceptable than the truth).  You must also move with efficiency, but not enough that you pass wind in your heightened state of emergency.  Keeping this in mind, I endeavoured to complete my run.  I lasted 12 minutes - eight of those being my walking warm-up and four minutes of running.  At the 12 minute mark I ran like any good puker straight for the toilets.  Afterwards I decided to give it another go, of course, my treadmill strategy went completely out the door as more people had arrived and I lost the treadmill I had so carefully chosen.  I hopped on for the second time, feeling confident when the rumbles began to start - I pushed myself as long as I could (eight minutes of running) hoping it would go away if I just ignored it, however, that was not to be.  Off I ran for the second time to the ladies room, by the time I made my way out again it was 7:15 and time to go to work.  All of that effort for a total of 12 minutes running and 8 minutes of walking and two measly sprints to my porcelain home.  

Tomorrow I will try this again, but, I was reminded last week of one of the reasons why I hate the morning.  My IBS is at its very worst and is extremely unpredictable.  The only part that is predictable is that it will happen despite my best efforts.  So, if you are at the gym tomorrow morning and see a red-head launching herself off the treadmill and barreling toward the ladies room, please clear a path for all of our sakes!  

Me and my Tragically Hip

It has now been 22 days since I hurt my hip.  I have iced, I have heated, I have foam rolled, I have pill-popped, I have walked, I swam laps, I have rested, I have yoga-d.  I have been massaged, cracked, lasered and will soon have physio.  I have very little patience left.  In other words, I have not yet recovered from what we originally thought was bursitis, but what now appears to be a medical mystery.  I also regretfully acknowledge that it is unlikely that I will run or walk the Bluenose 10k on May 20.  I was given the go-ahead to attempt a run on Saturday; never in my life would I have expected to anticipate a run with such glee.  And instead of my usual “cursing out the run”, I cursed out my “tragically hip”.  (Tragically hip is the latest in a string of names that my husband uses to refer to me or my wide array of weird health issues.)  So, to say that the run was unsuccessful would be an understatement.  I started off sore and ended up far worse, to the point that I could no longer run, and barely walk to make it home.  And the total distance?  A whopping two kilometres.  My chiropractor suggested I rest this week, including no yoga.  I thought that yoga was resting!  I am going crazy here.  I negotiated with her and won the pleasure of riding the recumbent bike at the gym along with upper body weights.  Not the most exciting of prizes, but I will take it.

I realize that many runners face injuries, so, maybe this is just part of my path in learning how to run, however, I must say that I am pretty peeved about this whole affair.  I was not yet at the point where I enjoyed running, but, I was certainly noticing some progress, and that is pretty close to enjoyment.  I am extremely frustrated, however, I am trying to find some positives.  Running has actually been very rewarding thus far – I have slowly gained more control over my IBS.  It has been a long time since I mad-dashed to my apartment, or sounded like a band of trumpets while running down the street.  Running has introduced me to new communities both on and off-line and has helped me to bond with people in a way I did not expect.  It also fell upon my various running partners to get to know me in ways they never anticipated.  Few people can expect to “talk shit” quite literally with their running partner; they now have that claim to fame.  I have had responses from surprising corners regarding the blog and IBS in general.  It is very rewarding to hear that people can empathize with the situations that I encounter and that they are willing to connect with me to share their perspective.  Thanks to those who have been reading and thank you for connecting with me throughout this process.

I suppose the blog will have to focus a little less on the running part and more on the runs – much to your chagrin.  I will update you on the progress of my tragically hip; however, stay tuned as I begin to share some of my greatest moments as a girl with IBS.  Hopefully they will make you laugh; I can safely say they likely made me cry.  This is where you will really get to know about the glamorous life of poop-zilla.  So, get ready, because you will hear about my late arrival to my wedding, my close-call on my honeymoon while in Antibes, my very first camping trip, and of course, the Mexican hat incident of 2011. 

The F word...

If you have been diagnosed with IBS you have likely talked a lot about the “F” word – F.I.B.R.E.  I feel confident enough to say that you were likely told to increase your fibre consumption, no matter the type of IBS you happen to have.  Fibre appears to be the centre of the IBS universe and at the forefront of the minds of our medical professionals.  It is often touted as the cure-all for IBS.  I am about to tell you how fibre is quite literally a pain in my ass; it is both friend and foe.  Fibre is like that person that you walk on eggshells around, too much one way or the other and this fickle friend will make your life miserable. 

It took me a long time to figure out fibre and it required a lot of help along the way.  It took specialists, a surgeon and one amazing dietitian to help me understand how fibre affects my body.  This journey also included extensive food journaling, diligence and patience to gain the understanding I now have today.  

How much fibre do I eat in one day?  Fifteen to nineteen grams (15-19g), however, I prefer to hover in around 15g.  How much should you be consuming?  According to the Dietitians of Canada, adult men should consume 38g per day and women are recommended 25g.  For those of you without IBS, you will likely be shocked at my daily intake, and some of you will likely deem it to be unhealthy…  this would not be the first time that I have heard this, and it will certainly not be the last. 

A low intake of fibre allows me to manage my symptoms and maintain a routine of three to four “movements” daily.  However, this does not mean that I do not have flare-ups at this level.  I think I hit six, seven and eight washroom trips on three consecutive days last week at my normal intake level.  So, what I am telling you is, often, IBS is kind of like gambling.  Sometimes you are cautious and win big, sometimes you throw caution to the wind and you win big, and sometimes, no matter what you do, shit happens.  What I do know for sure is that if I go above this threshold I might as well pitch a tent right beside the toilet.  

One extremely important fact to keep in mind is that everybody is different.  My fibre RDI may be the same, lower, or higher than yours, and that is okay.  Everyone reacts differently to different foods and that also applies to those who do not have IBS.  So, when it appears as though someone is judging you for eating things like gasp – white bread – keep in mind that, if it is easier for you to digest than whole wheat bread, then eat the white bread.  Eating things like whole grains can be just as unhealthy for someone with IBS as for someone else who shuns white bread.  If it makes you use the washroom all the time, forces you to take medication and/or causes weight loss and additional stress, then, this choice is unhealthy for you.   

• Never be ashamed of the choices you have to make in order to lead a healthy life. 

• Never forget that healthy is not a static definition; it is just as unique as you are.   

Be sure to talk these things over with your doctor, or, get referred to a dietitian.  If you do not gel with your dietitian, ask to be referred to a different one.  That is what I did, and we ended up meshing really well and I was able to learn a lot from her. 

Fibre is a beast of its own and a bit cumbersome to tackle in one post, so, I will begin a series of posts relating to fibre so that we can work through this issue together.  If you have specific questions relating to the f word, contact me and I will ensure I cover it at some point throughout the series.  In addition, feel free to share your experiences about keeping it regular!

Turning over a new leaf...

Today I took my lazy self out for a run.  It was not a great run, total distance was 3.97 km.  Total running distance was likely 2.8 – 3.0 km.  

It was all I could do to push myself to run as much as I did.  I think my body is punishing me for not training as much as I should have, and my body is right, I do deserve it.  I was physically capable of running at any point in time but was too lazy to drag myself out there.  Given these facts, I think this week will be rather painful as I try to get myself back to my regular running self.  I am trying to turn over a new leaf in an effort to be more motivated.  This will encompass actually getting things done and doing my scheduled runs and workouts, which will definitely include one session at the pool.  I will not be hitting the pool more than once a week as I am allergic to chlorine, so until I can determine whether or not my skin is going to react badly I will keep it to a minimum.  I want to start pool training so that my endurance is back to normal in time to start swimming in the lake as soon as it is warm enough. 

Aside from the disappointing performance today, I did partially enjoy the run.  I ran in Point Pleasant Park in Halifax, which was really nice for a change.  I am used to running on pavement, so running on crushed gravel and trails was a welcome change.  It is amazing how much lower impact it was!  As it is Easter Monday, there were many people out with their dogs, their children and there were a ton of runners out there.  

The squirrels were out in full force!

Halifax Harbour...

Part of the Cambridge Battery in the park.

 

The other great thing about the run was that I did not feel rushed.  I did not have to work because of the holiday, so I dropped my husband off for his shift and then hit the trails.  Now I am finishing this post and slowly getting ready for another wedding I have to perform this evening.  It appears as though wedding season has officially begun!

In terms of the IBS, I felt that familiar urge during the run but worked through it enough to do a bit more before I really felt like I might keel over from exhaustion.  I did go to the park prepared with extra Kleenex in hand in case I had to use the facilities.  I was, however, hell-bent on not using the washroom as many of the “washrooms” are actually outhouses, and quite honestly, I am a bit too prissy for that.  I can safely say, though, that I have noticed steady progress since I began running.   It is very rare that I actually stop my run to use the washroom; normally I can run through it long enough to complete my target distance.  I attribute this to the extensive amount of planning that goes into a run.  I plan my meals around the run in terms of what I eat and how far in advance I can eat it.  This is part of the reason why I do evening runs, and unfortunately, why I eat so late at night.  I cannot eat any less than 1.5 hours before a run, otherwise, I will not have enough time to digest and use the washroom before I go.  But, all of this planning is definitely better than the alternative, Princess Poopy Pants?  No thank you!

Deep Cold

Unlike some of the other bloggers I have been following, my Saint Patrick’s Day run was not overly exciting.  I did not run in a race, but I certainly felt like it was a race to try to fit in my run amid our errands before the festivities could begin.  My Saturday run consisted of me heading out in far too many layers for what I soon realized was an absolutely gorgeous day.  I did a short run, around 2.5km to my favourite flower shop, The Flower Shop, to pick up a bouquet for a friend’s birthday.  On my way I saw many revellers and a sea of green in front of our downtown watering holes. 

According to my “coach” (Nike+), I was supposed to do a longer run today (4.5 km), so I headed out with a friend at lunch.  In all honesty, I was ready to head home from work, because the “runs” seemed to be consuming my day, but I thought, if I’m going to make another deposit I might as well run, at least it will happen more quickly!  With that, I donned my running tights, which felt extremely inappropriate in the hallway at work, and we were greeted by another beautiful day on the East Coast.  I forgot a jacket, so only had a tank and a long-sleeved shirt, but this was definitely enough.  The run was great; my friend is more advanced, but was nice enough to humour me throughout and even allowed me to do 10:1 run/walk intervals.  What a relief that one-minute is!  This was also the first time I went for a run during work and I must say it was pretty fabulous!  I was longing for someone to wheel me back to my desk post-run, but after an hour or so I felt really energized and so pleased that I went. 

It was not until after the run that things went awry.  Two words for you: Deep. Cold.  Being the genius that I am, I decided that since I would not be able to ice my shins immediately following my run, I thought I would do the next best thing, use deep cold gel.  For those of you who are not familiar with it, it is a blue gel that does some sort of chemical magic when placed on the body and acts as ice once applied.  So, off I went to the ladies washroom to change in one of the stalls.  I felt very prepared – wipes to wipe off the sweat (and eventually the gel), deodorant, new sets of undergarments, work clothes and the tub of deep cold.  In order to give you a complete understanding of what I am about to describe, I must tell you what my work outfit consisted of: dress (I later found out a colleague was wearing the exact same dress – what are the chances?!), tights without feet.   I assessed the situation and approached the application of the deep cold very strategically – I put the dress on first, prepared several wipes to wipe my hands with and applied the deep cold.  What I forgot to think about was that the deep cold really needs to dry, or “set”, before you put the tights on; this was a huge problem for two reasons:

1. I was overly generous with the gel; and

2. I had a conference call in five minutes. 

… I assume you have all guessed what happened next.  Once I realized what was about to happen I had no choice but to pull up my pants, knowing full well I was about to disperse deep cold gel all over the lower half of my body.  When I say all over I mean all over, all over my legs, butt and “other” regions.  Not only does deep cold make you cold, but it also makes you tingle.  Think about that for just a second.  Here I am at work, my lower body is numb and a-tingle all at the same time.  Not good.  I will have to come up with an alternative solution for future applications.