#390: Groin Pulls and Other Injuries

Not Pennsy's Groin

Pulling your groin... it's always sounded a little obscene to me. I guess I was never really sure where my "groin" was. I thought of it as the general area of the crotch, as in "he got kicked in the groin. Actually, the groin muscles are part of your hip adductors. They help you close your legs. I learned this when the surgeon implanted an IVC filter through a vein in my groin. Long time readers will remember the day I had my bikini line shaved for the first time. To be honest, I haven't given my groin much thought, since then, other than the standard cleaning and maintenance that any responsible owner give to his equipment.

But on Wednesday night, I pulled my groin while swimming. I'm trying to think of a wussier sounding sentence. Swimming is the exercise we recommend to people who are old and stiff. People with arthritis can swim. People who are already injured can get into the pool, for Pete's sake. But there I was, doing the Breast Stroke, which is basically a resting stroke, when I snapped my legs together and felt a sharp, burning pain from my hip to my inner thigh. My first thought was, "Oh, so that's what a groin pull feels like." My next thought was, "This had better not screw with my running." And finally, the killer: "You wuss. You just pulled your groin SWIMMING!"

I leave it to you, Dear Reader, to contemplate the experience of treating your injured groin with ice packs.

When I was in high school, my friends Bobby and Dwight were always convincing me to "go out" for one team or another, with fairly consistent results. There was the basketball tryout where the coach pulled me off to the side and suggested I go out for wrestling. The night on in the throwing pit when I discovered I could not safely predict the direction I would be hurling the discus. There was the week of wrestling where I discovered the humiliation of trying to throw a young man who appeared to be fastened to the floor with lag bolts through his feet. Then there was the night I went out for swimming. I don't know how many miles Coach Troy made us swim that night: 12 or 15, I think. I remember being passed a lot by guys who had propellers for feet. I remember feeling like my legs were made of burning jello, and missing school the next day because I could not move any of my limbs. But mostly, I remember handing Coach my excuse for being absent. In perfect cursive, Mum had written, "Sore from swimming." He read it silently. Looked up at me. Read it aloud, softly, so as not to embarrass me, for at heart, he was a kind man. Then his eyes filled with a kind of tender pity, as if I had missed school so I could travel to San Francisco to try on prom dresses. Swimming was never really the same for me after that.

Still, when I joined the Y, the pool beckoned. I used to be a decent swimmer, and I wanted to keep my cross-training options open for the days when I wasn't running. Mrs P found me some trunks at the Goodwill, I picked up a pair of those weird goggles at Meijer, and off I went to the water. It soon became apparent that I had forgotten a great deal about swimming.

Where are those tree-huggers when you need them?

My endurance is pretty good for a fat old man. I can run for a couple of hours and require no medical attention at all. My first 25 meter length of the pool at the Y left me wondering if they would have to drag me up onto the deck to administer CPR, or if they could just do it while I lay on the bottom. My heart pounded so hard I could hear my pulse. I gasped for breath with my elbows hooked on the edge of the deck, hoping the people from Green Peace would find me in time. I could not believe I could get so tired so fast.

I've been practicing since then. Asking for advice. Watching YouTube. Studying the dolphin-like 10-year-olds who come to swim practice after school. I'm getting better. But today I have this little twinge in my groin and I don't want to aggravate it, so I'm giving it a rest. I've missed a training run, and I'm in a grump.

Which prompted me to think of other injuries I have sustained in my long and storied athletic career. Other than the sore knees I experienced when I first started running, I have had only one injury on the road. I strained both my Achilles tendons during my first 5K, which is its own funny story. I once strained a shoulder doing a bizarre exercise where you hold a medicine ball up over your head, then throw it down to the floor as hard as you can, catch it, and repeat. I've never had more than a blistered ring finger from lifting weights. And the only injury I sustained during my LIVESTRONG at the YMCA training was from doing a stretch where you lie on the floor and cross your leg over your body, twisting your hips into a sort of screw shape of which my sacroiliac joint did not approve. Then of course, there was the bout of Pickleball Shoulder I experienced recently. The less said about that, the better.

 

The upshot here is that discounting poor conditioning or male stupidity, I have never been seriously hurt while running.  I give credit for that to the techniques and philosophy of Jeff Galloway. Using walk breaks early and often has enabled me to keep going without pain or injury. An important part of this approach to training is respect for recovery days. So I want to cross-train. I want to do something besides run that will keep my metabolism cooking. It's just that all these exercise things are so dangerous. Cycling, for example, wears me out almost as fast as swimming, and involves Pennsyltucky drivers, a notoriously aggressive breed.

I'd try shuffle board... but I hear it's really hard on your knees.

Peace,

Pennsy

#388: Exercising Together

The Loneliness of the
Long-distance Runner

I am learning the beauty of exercising with somebody else. I like the solitude of running alone. It gives me a chance to meditate without the distraction of other runners who are usually pulling away from me into the distance. I like hitting the weight room where the most complicated conversation is usually a grunt of recognition of a request for a spot. Still, there is joy to be found in numbers.

The Club with the Worst
Initiation Ever

My first and most important attempt at working out with a group was with my LIVESTRONG at the YMCA class. I signed up because they offered me a free 12 week membership, but before long I realized the power and encouragement that comes from working out with people who celebrate and uplift one another. People kept telling us how inspiring we were. I don't think they realized how much we inspired one another.

The Striders were kind enough to
wait for Pennsy so he could be
in the picture

I kept reading about how finding a running club can help you, and I found John's Striders: a local group affiliated with Lexington's John's Run/Walk shop. I joke that I don't really run with the Striders, I run behind them. But even in the back of the pack, I find people who struggle and overcome. My first time out with them was on a 13 mile run among horse farms. Three of us trailed along together for most of the run. Both my companions from that day have now finished marathons, and I look forward to joining them. Other times, I only see my fellow Striders in the pre-dawn darkness before they leave me to trot along behind on my own. Just knowing they're there can draw me along through the end of a tough run. And of course, there's my friend Bob who runs with a nasty limp and a pacemaker keeping his wounded ticker going. You'll find us chatting in the morning mist while our speedier companions inspire us. Cardiac Bob and Cancer Bob: Someday, we'll make a buddy picture.

ZUMBA!

The YMCA has shown me a whole other world of exercise thorough the dozens of classes that go on there all day, every day. My membership gives me free access to most of them, and I have really come to enjoy dropping in on whatever class is going on when I have an hour free before or after work. I've taken spinning classes, which kill my quads in a way that running never has,)After a spin on the treadmill, I enjoy Yoga classes with a Buddha-like instructor who is equal parts forest nymph, giddy cheerleader, and Zen master. Pilates always challenges me, and I really like the fact that I can do a little more each time I get on the mat. TRX give you an awesome workout, and I use the term literally. I am in awe of Coach Carrie and my classmates as they fling themselves through movements that leave me panting on the floor in a puddle of my own sweat. And if you don't like Zumba, there is probably something seriously wrong with your soul.

 Solitude? Yeah, right

Then there's the pool. I've always found swimming to be the most solitary of sports. I splash along with my awkward strokes, goggles fogged, barely finishing each lap while some 80-year-old in the next lane does her Esther Williams impression for what seems like miles at a time. Then, Mrs P started taking swimming lessons.

Swimming lessons were a part of my childhood. Every summer, the kids in my hometown would gather at Dormont Pool where patient grown-ups taught us to put our faces underwater and blow bubbles. We gradually progressed, year by year, to the diving boards on the deep end. Mrs P never got that chance, Now, in our dotage, we are sharing the experience of her learning to swim. She meets with Mr. Ted on Saturday mornings, then we go to the Y together a couple times a week so she can practice. Yesterday, we shared a lane. I swam my labored laps while she practiced her drills. It won't be long before she's a stronger swimmer than I am. She loves the water. We've finally found an exercise we can enjoy doing together. Last week, we even took a water aerobics class. She laughed like a child, and I fell in love with her every time I saw her chlorine-soaked smile.(She has taken to devilishly pinching my bum under the water, which is also a plus.)

It doesn't have to be like this...

If you're reluctant to exercise with someone else because you're embarrassed about your body, or worried that you won't be able to keep up, or for some other reason, I encourage you to get over it. I remember the shame of high school gym class, but I have found that grown-ups are much more encouraging. Nobody's ever made me feel bad about myself because I can't fold my legs like a pretzel or cycle for an hour without collapsing across the handle bars. There is joy out there alone on the open road, but there is joy in the mirror lined walls of the exercise studio, too. The only way to keep exercising is to find something that's fun. And there is fun to be had in the company of other people who are fighting for their lives, just like you.

Peace,
Pennsy

#367: Great Workout

My day started with some letters and paperwork that needed attending to. Then I got a message from a friend about a really attractive acting opportunity that I won't jinx by going into right now. Then, I packed my bag and hit the gym.

I started with some boot-camp style circuit training. Squats, lunges, and presses with weighted bars, Swiss balls and dumbbells, laps around the basketball court, lots of belly and butt work that made me sweat and swear. I worked with a couple of friends from the LiveSTRONG group and our trainer, Carrie. I don't know when I've ever loved and hated a pretty woman as much as I do Carrie when she's pushing me to do "Just one more."

Then it was time for my run and it was a good one. Here's my log entry:

81 degrees. 4.03 miles/43:31 @ 2:13 PM. Legacy Loop. Adidas. Intervals. Podcaster 178 BPM intervals. Splits: 11:09, 10:27, 10:38, 11:00. That's a pretty high cadence for me, but I was able to sustain it. Miles 1 & 4 include warm up and cool down.


 I ran it much quicker than usual. I used Podrunner, to keep my cadence. You know I'm not a big fan of running with headphones, but I find that the steady beat of these specially designed mixes let me run and not have to think about speed or pace. Won't use them on the road, though. It's really good to be able to hear what's coming behind you when you're alone out in the country at 6:30 in the morning. Still, the music can be very relaxing. I'm sure I'm going to fall asleep while running someday. Now that will be worth a blog post.


Then it was back to the gym for some weights.

Exercise	Weight	Sets	Reps
Deadlift	155	2	15
Shoulder Press	40	2	15
Step Up	40	2	15
Lat Pulldown	130	2	15
Reverse Crunch		2	25

HTML Tables

I have one more week of these New Rules for Lifting Break-in workouts, then I'll take a rest from the weight room and taper my runs in preparation for the Half-Marathon on the 23rd. After that, I'm going to cut down to three runs a week, and hit the weights hard. I'd like to build more upper body strength while my legs recover in November.

I dressed and went to the pool for some cool-down, but the joint was full of firefighters training for water rescue on one side, and some sort of little kids' swim team that appeared to be made up of tiny human/dolphin hybrid creatures on the other. A couple of them must have had motors. There is something so beautiful about a really fine swimmer. The strokes are so smooth and efficient. The body seems to slip through the water. I stood enjoying them for a few moments, but old guys watching little kids in swimming togs are more suspicious than they used to be, so I went to the steam bath for a little stretching.

OK, I have been in the sauna. I guess it's good for you. It smells like the woods in there, which I like. The steam room? That's just weird. I suppose it's good for opening up your lungs, and I'm sure it must be fantastic for your complexion, but I just found it creepy. Maybe if there had been a few more fat old man wrapped in towels...? A soggy cigar or two? I wandered out and slipped into the Jacuzzi. Now this, I like.I love the hot water. I adore the bubbles. I even sort of enjoy the camaraderie of sitting in a big bathtub with a bunch of strangers. The thing is, all that full-body hydro-massage does something to my blood pressure. When I stand up out of the tub, I have to make a bee-line for the nearest bench before my spinning head blacks out and I fall crashing to the tile floor. I don't understand why this happens, and these head-rushes don't scare me as much as they used to, but I still need to be careful. With all the blood thinners I take, a hard crack on the skull could be pretty bad. Even if the place is filled with firemen.


Tomorrow is a rest day, then I'm joining the Striders on Saturday morning for a long, slow 16 miles: my last long run before the race. I feel fantastic. I know I can finish this half-marathon. I just have to make sure I don't get worn out or hurt between now and then.


For now, it's time for some beauty sleep. And maybe a couple of Tylenol wouldn't hurt either.


Peace,
Pennsy

#362: Iron, Asphalt, and A Beautiful Weekend

It is Sunday night, and I really needed my day off. I didn't need to see my Steelers get their lunch money taken by the Ravens. That was just ugly. Mrs P's chili and a beer helped soften the blow.

After the game, we loaded Jake and Clare into the back of the Honda and drove off to see the Bluegrass. It was a perfect day. The bright afternoon sun shone on the golden, empty corn stalks. Thoroughbreds lazed in pastures. Clare got car sick. OK, it was a perfect day except for the puking. And the ball game. But the truth is, Mrs P's company more than made up for it.

Friday's Resistance Workout

Exercise	Sets	Reps	Weight
Squats	3	15	135
Deadlift	3	15	155
Assisted Dips	3	15	75
Wood Choppers (R/L)	3/3	15	120
Row, Bent Over (Db)	3	15	30

HTML Tables

Friday, after class at the Y, I hit the weight room. I wanted to do some of the classic bar bell exercises that I love so much. I also tried the assisted dip machine for the first time since my surgery. My triceps are still burning! Carrie and Melissa are weaning us off of the machines, and I couldn't be happier. I prefer free weights. It's great to be moving real iron again. Once I finished my workout, I hit the pool for a short few laps, just to cool down. That night I set my running clothes out so I could jump out of bed and beat the UK football traffic for my long run. Then we got a distress call from a friend and I wound up staying a lot later than I intended.


Saturday's Long Slow Run
72 Degrees. 11:22 AM. Legacy 6mi out and back. 12mi/2:57:11. Pegasus. RWR: 1min/mile (till HR <130) Splits 12:53, 13:26, 13:22, 13:25, 13:40, 13:28, 14:02, 13:47, 14:10, 14:10, 15:10, 15:10. (4 long walk breaks in the last two miles)

After sleeping in, and waiting for my digestive system to do its morning duty, I got a late start on my 12 mile run. It was the hottest part of the day, but hardly hot compared to what I've become used to. I went 6 miles out on the Legacy trail, then 6 miles back. it was a beautiful day. After my run, I drove home, made a smoothie, and slept for a couple of hours, then our friend Tami called to say she had a coupon for Tony Roma's, and we all went out for ribs. Just a great day. And by this morning, I was ready for a day off.

I learned something from that long distance.Two weeks ago, I finished 8 miles of a 10 mile run when I ran out of energy. I walked most of the last two, and was cramping in my thighs by the time I was finished. Yesterday, after two more weeks of training, I ran right through that 8 mile mark. I had finished 10 before I really slowed down. Galloway says that the best way to beat "the wall" (that place near the end of a run when you run out of gas, but have to keep going anyway,) is to train at distances longer than the race you're going to run. So here's my plan. I want to get my long runs up to at least 15 miles. I'll know I can run the half without bonking at the end. And my conditioning will be strong enough to get me there. At least that's the plan. I'll keep you updated...

And Finally...
One for the Five is flying along. We've now raised $1325. I am so proud of my friends and family, even some folks I've never met have pitched in. I'm determined to finish this Half Marathon. And I'm determined to raise at least $2000 for the Markey Cancer Foundation. We're going to do it, and we're going to make a difference. I hope you'll decide to contribute. You can click the link and contribute online, or you can send a check to me directly. Make it out to "Markey Cancer Center Foundation" and send me an email so I can get you my mailing address. We're going to be a great team.

Peace,
Pennsy

#355: Under the Weights, In the Water, and On the Boards

For most of my life, "muscle confusion" meant muscles asking, "hey, why are we moving all of a sudden?" Now, that I'm running, my muscles are more likely to ask, "hey, are you just going to sit there typing all day?"

Muscle confusion is a popular trend in training based on the principle that your body adapts very quickly to stress. If you do the same exercise over and over, your body learns to perform it more efficiently, and it has less and less of an effect on your growth. Eventually, you hit the dreaded "plateau" where you're doing everything right - eating clean, running long, sleeping deep, lifting heavy - but you don't lose weight, you don't get any faster, and you can't pull that new, heavier dead lift. You're stuck. How to get unstuck? Try cross training.

That's what they tell me, anyway.

Elliptical trainer

Since starting LIVESTRONG at the YMCA, I've been doing all kinds of cool stuff. The trainers have me doing cardio on the elliptical machine. That's cool, because it works my legs in a very different way than running does, and gives me a workout without interfering with the recovery day between runs that is so important to my old joints. I liked the machines at my first gym, Promatx, because they seemed to have a nice long stride that fit my legs. Many of the other machines I've tried seem to have shorter steps that make it a little harder for me to keep my balance. It took me a while to find a setting that let me work the foot pads without bumping up and down, but I think I've finally got it down. The elliptical is a funny machine. It's easy to fake it... lots of people watch TV or even read while they're working out. On the other hand, if you set an aggressive goal like maintaining a high pace or heart rate, you can really break a good sweat on the thing without banging your knees and hips. Sure, I'd rather  be running, but working those big muscles in the legs and butt, as well as the big one inside your chest, can only help when it's time to hit the road again.

Chest Press machine

I've never been a big fan of the weight machines, I find them restrictive and a little boring compared to free weights. On the other hand, when a group is training together, like we do, it's a lot easier for the trainers if we're all on machines that are easy to teach, easy to execute, and easy to adjust. Carrie and Melissa, our trainers at the Y, have designed a program for me that emphasizes balance between upper and lower body. My legs are pretty strong thanks to the running and the amount of weight they got used to carrying around on a daily basis for so many years. My upper body is much weaker. During radiation, I lost a lot of muscle mass in my shoulders and chest. I've never been very macho at the pull-ups/dips/push-ups stuff anyway. Hard for those little arms to haul that great big bottom around. The other thing that wants attention in my upper body workouts is my right shoulder. The nerves and muscle the docs had to remove around my tumor has given me a very limited range of motion in that joint. We're working very gently with very light weight to make the muscles that are left stronger so they can compensate for what's missing. It's pretty stiff and sore a lot of the time, but I'm going to keep working on it. I lose a lot of value around the house if I can't reach the top shelves anymore.

Dormont Pool, Dormont PA

Then there's swimming. I haven't been in the pool for a long time.  I remember swimming on a regular basis at Westminster, when we had to pass a swimming class as an all college requirement. From the time I was a child, swimming was considered a skill that everyone was just supposed to have. Not that I ever expected to be adrift at sea, but if I were, I'd be able to cope. I remember reading about JFK's long night swimming miles to save his crew from the PT-109. I'm no Mark Spitz, but were I on Tom Hanks' raft, I could have saved Wilson. We went to Dormont Pool all summer, back when summer actually lasted three months but felt like 10 years. All of us took swimming lessons starting with putting your face in six inches of water and finishing with lifesaving training over at the deep end. Swimming was a given. As I grew older, I swam less and less. I splashed around in the ocean a couple of times. One summer, Jim Ripper and I paddled across Lake Chautauqua. On my first tour with the National Shakespeare Company, we managed to swim in all five great lakes. Huron is surprisingly cold, even in August, by the way. But I've never been a lap swimmer. I found it too tiring and a little bit lonesome. That black line down the middle of the lane was just never enough scenery to hold my interest. Of course there was the biggest obstacle of all. When you're 200 pounds overweight, swimming trunks just aren't your best look.

Bemus Point on Lake Chautauqua, NY

So, there were a lot of things keeping me out of the water, but after a long sweaty workout, that pool at the Y just looked too good. I went to Meijer and found trunks on the clearance rack, then bought myself a pair of those weird little goggles. The good thing about swimming is there is a lot less tempting gear to by. Running culture is full of garments and gadgets that sneak up on you, once you're hooked on a sport that is only supposed to require a tee-shirt and sneakers. I already have a watch to count laps, and don't feel the need to wear a little rubber cap, so  my swimming spending was pretty much done. I was ready to give it a try.

I got to the pool about an hour before class. I took my shiny new suit and goggles out of my bag and padded naked to the shower. Even though the pool is chlorinated enough to take coffee stains out of a white shirt, it just seems like common courtesy to me to rinse off before jumping in. I pulled my trunks on and tightened the drawstring, then put the black goggle thingies over my forehead like I'd seen them do in the Olympics. I realized that I had never worn these things in my life, and wondered how stupid and bug-eyed I looked. Then came the few steps to the door, and out onto the tile pool deck.

Fat Man Swimming

The pool is inside, but there are huge windows on one end of the room. You can see the sun and the grass. The Legacy trail crossed at the far side of the field, so you can see runners and bikers knocking out miles in the sun. The pool is 25 meters long, and during the afternoon there are two lanes designated for lap swimming. The rest of the pool is for summer camp kids who laugh and splash and dunk each other: stuff kids have been doing in the water ever since our ancestors crawled out of it, I guess. I put my goggles over my eyes, jumped into the shallow end and got three surprises. First, the water is warm. Like bath-water warm. Those big windows produce a greenhouse effect that I hope is as effective in the winter as it is now.Then there was the depth. It's only three feet deep. Sure, the water slows you down, but you're still jumping down onto a concrete surface in your bare feet. It's a little jarring. Finally, there were those goggles. Remember how afraid I was that I might look foolish in them? That issue was settled when I splashed into the water and they flew up off my face, twisting crazily around my head. I looked around to make sure nobody saw how stupid I was, and then pulled the little cups back over my eyes. Then I took a deep breath, turned my back to the side, and pushed off down the lane.

I tried out all the strokes I learned as a kid. The breast stroke was always my favorite. I swam it smoothly and slowly, pleased with the way my body slid through the water. The elementary backstroke was probably the second one that my dad taught me, and I always liked it because you could see the sky while you swam. The side-stroke and the front and back crawl strokes were not so successful. They all require a degree of shoulder rotation that I just don't have anymore. So I stuck with the wide, underwater arm strokes. Nobody is going to confuse me with a competitive swimmer, but I do go forward instead of downward, so that's a plus. As I grew more comfortable in the water, I made my strokes a little longer, pulled the water a little harder. I could feel my sides and back working to move me along. Before I knew it, I had  been swimming for 20 minutes. My heart is strong, my breath was even, and my muscles felt energized. I popped into the sauna for a couple minutes, then went back to the locker room. After spinning the water out of my suit at the extractor, I rinsed some of the chlorine off in the shower and padded back to my locker. How about that? I just went swimming!

I think it's a great way to train between runs. Swimming is the lowest impact exercise I can imagine, and there's no question that it's a full body workout. You don't sweat. You don't get blisters. I won't say I enjoy it as much as a run in the woods, but I do like the sound of the water as I move along through it. It's good to be back in the water in a body that can actually move through it without gasping for air.

Tonight, I'm doing the Midsummer Night's Run 5K downtown. I'll be running with some friends, which will be a new experience for me. I'm usually a loner. The forecast is for fairly mild temperatures today, which means less than 100 degrees lately. It should be pretty pleasant by the time the gun fires at 8:30. Mrs P will be there, and Mum is going to see me run for the first time... first time ever, I think. I don't usually think about spectators when I run, but knowing she'll be there cheering me on makes this one kind of special. Not going for any PR tonight. Just a nice run with some nice folks.

Click the poster for info and tickets

My cast moved today's rehearsal so I could get out in time to run. They are so generous and kind to me. It just makes me want to work that much harder. I know I promised to blog more about the rehearsal process, but I've been pretty distracted lately. I'll try to fill in the blanks in the next few days, but in the meantime, just know that End Days is going great. The show is dangerously close to being really special. Actors' Guild's last show was completely sold out before opening night. Don't get closed out of this one. I hope you'll come see it if you're near Lexington.

Peace,
Pennsy