On Acceptance & Healing Post Injury: http://neverstopexploring.com/2016/01/22/the-north-face-ultrarunner-stephanie-howe-talks-acceptance-and-healing-post-injury/ Having trouble with acceptance. Stuck on frustration and anger. It’s been over 2 months since I went for a proper run. I can’t say I've reached anything remotely close to a peaceful state of acceptance. At this point only sheer force of rational will is keeping me fairly disciplined about letting my knee heal fully (then wait 2 more weeks) before I run again. Not acceptance. Every day I take all the frustration driven impatience and force myself to think it through: The quickest way to running at my peak again is to let my knee fully heal, until it feels *the same* as my other (healthy) knee, no difference in swelling or pain, and then wait two more weeks just to be sure. Despite icing, every night I go to bed knowing I still can’t run, and every morning I wake up (sometimes hours too early) to the same. I cope through a mental exercise of gratefulness. Breathing deeply I am grateful for overcoming asthma as I did the past year (by running, ironically). I am grateful that I can walk smoothly, even quickly, without pain or asymmetry. That works for a while, and eventually the frustration returns. Fortunately I have found exercises that are fairly easy on my knee, yet strenuous enough to push myself physically. I am grateful for stationery body-weight exercises. I am grateful for being able to do yoga, by myself or in a class. I am grateful I know my body well enough to adjust poses as needed. I am grateful my knee has recovered enough to boulder. I try to relax, reflect on all the feelings of anger and frustration, and use them to build motivation, drive, and intensity into workouts like a deck (tantek.com/t4fL2), or Sebastians (tantek.com/t4fT1). I confess the anger helps me push through, to keep pushing despite feeling short of breath, or muscles burning with fatigue. Setting a PR (personal record) this way is bittersweet. Whether by a few seconds or burpees, every such PR feels great. And yet, it’s hard to fight the feeling that it was achieved partially as a response to something negative. I’m not sure what else to do. I’m too stubborn to just give up, which is what “acceptance” feels like. Maybe it’s this emotional cycle that I should accept, rather than my injury. Nearly every day now I feel improvements in my knee. A little less pain or soreness in the morning. A little more flexibility and range of motion in yoga poses. Or walking a flight of steps, not realizing til afterwards that there was no pain. I am grateful for healing. I am grateful for the knowledge that I will run again some day, and when I do I will be stronger than ever before. I try to appreciate these improvements and yet it’s still too easy to feel impatient and wonder. When will I be able to run a mile around my neighborhood again? Run to and in @Nov_Project_SF? Run up & down hills? Train for my next race? Will I recover in time to train for my next race? (Bay to Breakers in May). I can already tell those last two weeks will be the hardest.

On Acceptance & Healing Post Injury: http://neverstopexploring.com/2016/01/22/the-north-face-ultrarunner-stephanie-howe-talks-acceptance-and-healing-post-injury/

Having trouble with acceptance. Stuck on frustration and anger.

It’s been over 2 months since I went for a proper run.

I can’t say I've reached anything remotely close to a peaceful state of acceptance.

At this point only sheer force of rational will is keeping me fairly disciplined about letting my knee heal fully (then wait 2 more weeks) before I run again. Not acceptance.

Every day I take all the frustration driven impatience and force myself to think it through:

The quickest way to running at my peak again is to let my knee fully heal, until it feels *the same* as my other (healthy) knee, no difference in swelling or pain, and then wait two more weeks just to be sure.

Despite icing, every night I go to bed knowing I still can’t run, and every morning I wake up (sometimes hours too early) to the same.

I cope through a mental exercise of gratefulness.

Breathing deeply I am grateful for overcoming asthma as I did the past year (by running, ironically). I am grateful that I can walk smoothly, even quickly, without pain or asymmetry.

That works for a while, and eventually the frustration returns.

Fortunately I have found exercises that are fairly easy on my knee, yet strenuous enough to push myself physically.

I am grateful for stationery body-weight exercises. I am grateful for being able to do yoga, by myself or in a class. I am grateful I know my body well enough to adjust poses as needed. I am grateful my knee has recovered enough to boulder.

I try to relax, reflect on all the feelings of anger and frustration, and use them to build motivation, drive, and intensity into workouts like a deck (tantek.com/t4fL2), or Sebastians (tantek.com/t4fT1). I confess the anger helps me push through, to keep pushing despite feeling short of breath, or muscles burning with fatigue.

Setting a PR (personal record) this way is bittersweet.

Whether by a few seconds or burpees, every such PR feels great. And yet, it’s hard to fight the feeling that it was achieved partially as a response to something negative.

I’m not sure what else to do. I’m too stubborn to just give up, which is what “acceptance” feels like.

Maybe it’s this emotional cycle that I should accept, rather than my injury.

Nearly every day now I feel improvements in my knee. A little less pain or soreness in the morning. A little more flexibility and range of motion in yoga poses. Or walking a flight of steps, not realizing til afterwards that there was no pain.

I am grateful for healing. I am grateful for the knowledge that I will run again some day, and when I do I will be stronger than ever before.

I try to appreciate these improvements and yet it’s still too easy to feel impatient and wonder.

When will I be able to run a mile around my neighborhood again?
Run to and in @Nov_Project_SF?
Run up & down hills?
Train for my next race?
Will I recover in time to train for my next race? (Bay to Breakers in May).

I can already tell those last two weeks will be the hardest.