Hope is a potent thing

Warning: this is a longish post about running

I have been struggling with running since I fractured my pelvis in 2018. I started recovering from that, and of course got derailed by breast cancer in 2019. I was coming back from that and broke my foot. And as I’ve been trying to come back from that, I’ve been really slow and struggled with my heart rate.

There’s a sweet spot for aerobic work; my Garmin watch has my aerobic range from 138-ish to 153 beats per minute. Threshold (which means I’m working harder but not necessarily building fitness) starts at 154 and goes up to 170 (I think). Above that, is maximum and that’s not good at all. That range is one of the reasons I stopped taking tamoxifen, which is the drug my medical oncologist wanted me to take after the lumpectomy and radiation. But I had serious heart rate issues and my heart rate would spike to 180 and higher within the first 30 seconds of my run.

So all of that is background and I’ve posted it elsewhere. This isn’t about the past but about what I’ve been doing. 

My heart rate was still not great this winter, partly I’m sure to having lost my baseline fitness. I’ve been doing strength and cardio work ever since my orthopedist cleared me to do that, it’s not that I lost all fitness. But I lost running fitness.

I’ve been determined to build my running base slowly and safely so I’ve been running 2-ish miles about every other day. But my Garmin would show that my dang heart rate would spike. I dealt with that by pausing my watch and my run and waiting, usually about 15-20 seconds, until I thought it was low enough and then resuming the run and the watch. 

But that’s discouraging. Sure my pace was OK, not great, not where I was but I felt like I was making no progress and what’s worse, I was not enjoying running. Yes, I run for fitness but I also run because I love it.

I was telling Ben about this last weekend and he suggested just not looking at my watch—well actually, he suggested not wearing the watch but nah, that wasn’t going to happen. So his second suggestion was to not look.

Last Monday I did just that. I ran for fun, by how I felt and as I posted on Strava, I felt amazing. My times were still slower than I’ve been, which is to be expected, but I didn’t stop once and my heart was A-OK. 

I skipped running on Wednesday (I was tired) and did HIIT instead (see? Listening to my body right there), weights Thursday and then Friday I ran, again without looking. And wow, my time was faster than Monday and my run, even by Garmin’s standards, was productive. The photo on the left is from Friday's run.

Today I decided to run a bit slower, see if I could do that and know I was doing it by how I felt, and to run a bit further—mission accomplished AND my times were much better than I expected. Photo at the bottom is from that run.

All of this gives me hope, and hope is the best training tool there is.

How they play

 The COVID kittens aren't always Shittens.

The price of admission

I’m 99% certain Stevie was removed from her mother too early. Since we first got her, she’s suckled and kneaded the cat beds, the little blankets we have tossed around for the kitties to sleep on, the bathmat—you name it, she’s probably suckled and kneaded it.

She’s about seven months old now, has gotten to 9.3 pounds (!) but hasn’t outgrown that suckling. In fact, it’s gotten more destructive probably because she’s bigger and stronger. 

So far, she’s chewed/suckled holes in our new bedspread (which is now covered by a blanket), the blanket covering our new bedspread, a pillow sham that matches the bedspread (yes, also new), one of Kent’s running socks (Icebreakers, they weren’t cheap), and sock of mine, a merino wool one from Feetures. Scroll down to see pictures of all the damage.

She’s also obsessed with shoelaces and destroyed a lace on my brand-new running shoes. Plus, she’s chewed the ends off a couple of ties in hoodies we own.

That doesn’t include the damage both girls have done with their sharp murder mittens. We’ve replaced the sheers in our dining room and hung the new set so that they cover about 2/3 of the window; they’ve used my old crappy office chair as a climbing post; they practice shredding on the leather bench at the end of our bed; they also started shredding our fairly new yellow upholstered chair in the living room. They’ve done all of this despite the bazillion toys we have around, the two cat trees with sisal rug fibers for awesome clawing, the cardboard lounger which is perfect for shredding, etc. etc. etc.

Last Friday, we took them to the vet to get Soft Paws put on. But after consulting with them, we’re going to get their nails trimmed at the vet’s every month. Turns out those Soft Paws don't last very long (like one to four weeks) and require the kittens being under anesthesia to put them on. The vet tech I talked to strongly urged us to do regular nail trims; she can get a much closer trim than we can, and the kittens can be mad at her and not us. I can trim Stevie's nails, no worries, but Annie (now 8 pounds) absolutely loses her mind and wails in such a heartbreaking manner, which also upsets Eddie. So we'll let the vet do it. 

I hope it helps. It’s also a good thing they’re cute kittens with big purrs. 

Here's the damage: you can see I've knotted my severed shoelace together, just hope it doesn't come undone on a run. I'd probably trip and fall.

Example of how she's bitten the blanket that's covering the bedspread (which is chewed, not neatly severed like this). Her teeth are as good as scissors, aren't they?

Here's the chewed pillow sham. Jerk.

She went to town on my poor sock. Not shown is Kent's running sock, which suffered less damage but still had a giant hole chewed through the sole.

Fortunately this chair is basically trash already, but still! 

And so much for having our gorgeous yellow armchair. Instead we have three bathmats and a cat cubby. Welcome to my world.