Revelation on the Run: Am I Just a Masochist?

Hello, it’s me -sorry to disappoint, I’m not Adele. But I’m temporarily ending my hiatus from blogging. Truthfully, this is the amalgamation of the musings of 3 separate post-runs within 2 weeks. I thought I could publish this after the first time I wrote it, but I didn’t think it was good enough and had more pressing things to do. But alas, third time’s the charm. So here we go.


Photo Courtesy of Gerry Brady (CC BY-ND 2.0)


According to the Oxford dictionary: “(In general use) the enjoyment of an activity that appears to be painful or tedious”

I think the ultimate question that all runners will ask themselves one day is: am I just a masochist? It may be when the alarm goes off in the darkness of the supposed “AM”, first 5 minutes of a freezing/raining/hailing/snowing/etc. run, amidst a long run, last lap of a mile repeat… you name it. At some point, every runner will ask themselves this very question, especially when they secretly take pride in the “my sport is your sport’s punishment” slogan.

I could come at this question from a bunch of different perspectives, but I’ve only got less than 15 minutes. So let’s just get to my endorphin-driven epiphany.

I’m not talking about any specific sort of physical pain. I don’t enjoy the onset of a blister or jolting moment of a muscle strain. As I can finally comfortably call myself a “recreational athlete” in post-competitive life, especially as I’m not committed to any competition this year, the question is, why do I crave being short of breath, doubled over, and questioning life? Is it the endorphins? Feeling of accomplishment after overcoming a physical challenge? Ticking a check in a to do list? Burning calories? Getting some much needed oxygen to my brain after long bouts of studying?  I’m not that familiar with the neuroendocrinology of exercise to know whether there’s a dose response, i.e., more of X produces more of Y, between exercise intensity or duration and all the “feel-good” hormones, e.g., dopamine, serotonin, endorphins. But I’m sure, instead of a puke-worthy 800m repeat workout, anyone could opt for an easy run, let alone an easy walk to reap the same mental benefits.

As human beings, we crave sensory feedback. It connects to the whole debacle of needing to feel sore in order to feel like we’ve achieved something from our workout. And it’s something that is always challenging to explain to clients that don’t understand that feeling “the burn” especially for “core exercises” isn’t always indicative of productivity in strength progress or what have you. I think it highly depends on both your short- and long-term goals, e.g., I’m not going to push it hard in this tempo workout because I need to be ready to actually go “balls out” in tomorrow’s track workout. My short-term goal is to put in quality work without taking away from the more important workout tomorrow, while my long-term goal is to peak for races later in the season.

As athletes, we know the pain cave, the dark place. Some fear it, but inevitably welcome it because it means that we are pushing our body to its limits. A former teammate of mine began to return to running by going at it on the treadmill after school without any specific goal but to run herself to the ground so it felt like she did something.

In this video featuring the 2015 CrossFit Games champions, Katrin Davidsdottir says, “[I try to] maximize the effort that I put into everyday so when I go to bed then I know that that was all that I had.” While Ben Smith, who owns a box and programs his own workouts which entails fitting as many workouts in a day as possible, says, “I just train til I can’t anymore.” (For fun, I think if I did CrossFit, I’d also be a little overdramatic like this.)

My run today (2nd of 3 that led to the completion of this blog post) was an interesting one. I was tired enough overall that for once, my mind was blank and I just cued into my body every once in a while, especially once I picked up the pace. But it was likely one of my best runs in speed and mileage in quite some time. I could attribute it to a number of factors, such as an extra hour of sleep after baselining 4-5 hours of sleep every night the last while, a cold but sunny morning, some optimal combination of coffee and breakfast. But I think a lot had to do with wanting to push hard in order to deal with my stress of late. I felt more drive and vigor to push the pace. It wasn’t like I wanted to outrun all the things on my infinite to do list. It wasn’t like I wanted to make myself hurt on purpose. It wasn’t like I was trying to reach some goal within the run, distance-wise. I just wanted to feel. Something. Feel something purely physically stressful and not mentally stressful.

This isn’t limited to running either though. At the gym, call it a “finisher”, “metcon”, etc., putting some combo of exercises together at the end of my workout in an AMRAP-fashion (as many rounds as possible) allows me to physically give it my all that day. Being an endurance athlete for so long, it’s something familiar to me. Something maybe even that feels within my control. Because I know I can handle it physically when it seems that it’s questionable whether I can handle everything else in my life. But that pain from physical exertion -I know I can handle it because I’ve done it before. Maybe it’s just a safety method to say that if everything else fails today, at least I know that I gave it my all in my workout and can validate my self-worth and efficacy. It sucks in the moment and I may even doubt whether I can do another rep, but it reminds me, both physically and mentally, that I can handle the worst.

So call it my sick, coping method. Call it my own medicine to keep me sane and healthy mentally. Though in my experience with anxiety and depression and hearing from my own friends, if you’ve tread too far into the waters of that realm of mental malaise, then exercise may not even feel the same anymore; the “cure-all, feel-good” hormones either don’t get produced sufficiently or your body can’t respond to them. Think of it as Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus in the brain, where receptors don’t seem to respond to the hormones or neurotransmitters. (Though be weary that I have no scientific evidence to back that up, I just made that up on the spot as an analogy.) But luckily, lifting and especially running has been a way for me to cope this semester. People can say, “Oh, well at least it’s a healthy way to cope, it’s not like you’re smoking.” But when individuals appear to eat “healthy” with lots of vegetables and lean protein, or exercise quite devotedly, by no means does it reflect a healthy relationship with their body and that practice.

I run because at its purest roots, the sport never changes; no matter what age, fitness level, stage in life, etc., that you start your running journey on, on any given day in any location in the world, it can take you to new heights that you never would have seen, nor thought possible to accomplish otherwise. And I think in this way, your relationship and reasons for running is dynamic throughout life. True runners may breakup with running for a while, be it of choice or not, and come back to it years down the road to gain different things from the sport.

I wouldn’t call myself a true masochist, but through exercise, I can test my pain tolerance for the day to see if I can come out of the pain cave okay. It’s a reminder to myself that withstanding discomfort and stress in life, I can do this. For once, that is my relationship with running; it’s my form of therapy.


An Injured Athlete’s Mindset: A Bipolar Beauty and Beast

Photo by Andrew Mason obtained from Wikimedia Commons

“When we define ourselves by what we do and what we accomplish, we set ourselves up for a difficult moment when we can no longer do and accomplish what we used to.” – Jason Dorland

Take out 15-20 hrs of training/week. Turn down 2 coaches for lifting and running. Scratch the 1 race that I’ve been dreaming of for 8 months. Take away running, riding, lifting. And swimming, which my shoulders haven’t earned back yet. All of which have been taken away from me, completely out of my control. So after deducting all of that, what do you get? An athlete that’s been called to pursue other things but one that will always chase after the dream. That sounds pretty optimistic, right? Well, it took me almost 2 months to get to this place of mind.

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t miss running every day. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t itch to run and hear nothing but my breathing and footsteps. When I’m walking home without heavy bags on my back and in my hands, and the air is warm and welcoming to my skin, I reminisce how this, this is the perfect summer weather that I’ve always run in. When it’s raining and kind of humid, or when it’s 9pm and actually perfect for a run- I remember when those would be the exact times and conditions where I’d be running. Even when it’s been rainy, I reminisce the wet slogs out there. And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t miss it.

Being injured sucks. It’s simple as that. Always has, always will. I’ve come to realize that this summer, is my summer of injury. It hasn’t been easy but I’ve realized the curse that comes with being a driven athlete. Through my story so far, I might be able to share some things to help give insight to those that know, treat and are the injured athletes.

My timeline begins from the fall of 2014. I had just finished my first sprint triathlon in early September. Things weren’t perfect heading into the race, as I spent most of my training in the pool and bike. I wished that I had done more brick workouts, and especially spent more time honing my running speed. School and work limited my training, so that was that. But worst of all, I came back from a family road trip and had this weird pain in my right shoulder in extension and external rotation. I got treatment for what I could, with a week or so left, was all taped up and didn’t feel the pain when I swam on race day. So that was all good besides maybe some nutrition issues that led me to wanting to puke my guts out right after I got out of the lake, and it didn’t stop until an hour after the race. My next goal was just to get healthy again, as I discovered that I had dynamic instability in both my shoulders, but worse in my right. From there, I looked to try to figure out what was the next race that I could do. I was hungry to return to focusing on running since I hadn’t gotten in much running in the summer, so I looked to Squamish 23K at the end of August 2015. It was a perfect challenge and I was excited.

Fall and spring semesters were incredibly heavy and I knew I wouldn’t truly be training for Squamish until spring exams were done. I only had time and energy to hit the gym, so that’s what I did, 2-3 times a week in both semesters. And I also began to work on improving my olympic lifts, getting help from a coach. I’ve always loved lifting weights, but I’ve always done it for the purpose of performances external to the gym. Everything I’ve done in the gym has always been geared towards becoming a better, stronger and faster runner. For the most part, I never lift or do core work just to do it. It’s always been done for the purpose of becoming a better athlete in my sport. So even though I could only hit the gym, I still had one goal in mind: feeling strong while racing Squamish 23K.

In the spring, even though I did revel in the fact that my shoulder stability was increasing and lifting PRs came steadily, what motivated me all the time, even during my studying, was my dream of being free in the summer and running. I dreamed of runs feeling easy, rhythmic and smooth. I dreamed and craved of ripping off 400m repeats and cranking out mile repeats. I dreamed of slogging on double days and getting winded from a hard long run. That’s what kept me motivated through assignments and exams. I was dreaming and waiting to feel like a runner again. And I waited for 8 months.

I thought this random foot pain, that I experienced when I started to run again, was a simple fix, like the other times I randomly had a localized niggle in my foot. I thought it’d be a done deal within a treatment, just like the other times. It appeared to be a more complicated issue, stemming from studying and writing papers for a couple of weeks without a physio appointment. I was all twisted, my left glute wasn’t firing as well as it needed to be, and it seemed like a simple loading issue that caused my foot pain. Unfortunately, as the pain subsided and problems were fixed, my walk runs still brought on burning fatigue in my left arch. And hearing about the permanent laxity or instability in my left hindfoot left me in despair and confusion. (I have a blog post in my drafts vault that addresses this in greater detail in relation to footwear and how I may have to retract my mission to transition into minimalism.)

Nearly a month ago, I left a free and very brief injury assessment with a pedorthist at a complete loss. So much so that I went crying straight to my coach. (Not actually crying, but theoretically, pretty much.) This sudden pitfall left me to face my demons again. The same ones that tormented me in my grade 12 year of track when I struggled with a mysterious posterior knee issue for 6 months -until it turned into a full blown grade 2+ hamstring strain. 3 days before city finals.

Adding insult to injury (well, injury to injury), out of the blue, I flared up my ulnar nerve pretty bad from a harmless, routine workout at the gym. It was the worst flare up since my initial nerve entrapment 2 summers ago. This put riding on my road bike to work out of the question.

In this spiral of troubles, I learned that there are two faces in every injured athlete.

Note: Of course, I’m making sweeping generalizations about all athletes. But from my former track teammates that are still varsity athletes or former varsity athletes, I’ve seen this in them as well and I’ve discussed it with a couple of friends also currently injured.

The injured athlete is a beauty that practitioners love. He or she will follow your instructions and do your prescribed exercises and stretches. We tell ourselves that if this is what we need to do to get ourselves back to doing what we crave and love, then we will do every single rep that you tell us to do. We will face the monotony that is rehab, but we will always get the work done.

I ask myself, “How bad do you want it?” And I’ll grab my theraband or what have you, and I will make sure that I don’t miss a day of rehab. Because each day is a day to get myself that much closer to running again. If you love your sport enough, you’ll be alone pool running in the dive tank or at the public pool with kids splashing and seniors swimming. (Interestingly enough, I’ve been accompanied by several injured track athletes in the pool this semester.) Every day is a chance for a comeback to erase the misgivings about your body.

The beauty tries to stay truthful, patient and optimistic. And tells him or herself that, they’re getting stronger each week and will soon return better than ever.

Once an athlete realizes that he or she is out for more than 1-2 weeks, it’s a depressing blow to take. It requires time to digest and accept. I’m sure I could list out distinct phases, but the beginning will always be slight denial where you’ll come up with an arbitrary number of days or weeks that it’ll take before you’re back in your sport. The imaginary number comforts you. When things aren’t progressing as you wish they did, then things start to get iffy. It’s a dark cloud each day when you are constantly reminded by your body that you’re not healthy yet. The beast easily gets jealous as others are carefree and able to be active. The beast loathes that his or her body keeps failing.

Once time stretches even further and the injury is so complicated that it can’t really be defined into a number before you’re back, questions start. Questions appear to determine what you could’ve done to prevent this. Questions appear to determine why this happened. Questions appear to determine whether your body was meant for this sport or not. Questions appear to determine if this fight and push to return ASAP is even worth it anymore. It gets tiring each day to be so optimistic and to be checking your progress, only to be let down every time. Questions appear to determine if you should just -let go.

Since it’s summer and I’m not in a full load of courses, I definitely have more time on my hands. So I notice that I actually have free time, which was supposed to be filled up by running. It wasn’t supposed to feel this way, because I was expecting time to become relevant to running, like back in highschool and in my first year of university on the track team. Each day would be dictated by running: easy day and strength, intervals or hills day, long run day or recovery day. How I ate, what I ate and when I ate would be dependent on each day of training and each workout. Take out that training and routine… and everything comes to a standstill. The strict routines and dependency on running becomes murky. Things that were so concrete and defined by running now weren’t.

In Chariots and Horses, Jason Dorland writes, “I was once part of a group of individuals that could do things that only a minute percentage of the world’s population could. Now, I’m just an average person with an average life.” This might be a pompous statement, but as a competitive athlete, you can’t help but have that mindset sometimes when your sport is taken away from you. When I first came to face this truth that I was struggling with… I realized that I felt unfulfilled. Days felt empty. I probably didn’t even feel truly happy. Most of the time, I felt mediocre that my summer didn’t start off like I had dreamed of. When I came to really evaluate when I could be running again and actually training for Squamish, I had to be mature and think. And I realized that, Squamish demanded too much and even if I lacked in aerobic capacity by race day, odds were, my foot would likely not be conditioned for 4+ hours on the trails. So, through a rough process of letting go and a change of heart… I made progress in a different way.

Abbey D’agostino, one of my role models, said in her Flotrack interview, “[when you’re injured] you really learn what your motivation is when you’re like, sucking it up by yourself in the pool… if your running is all have you and it’s not going well, it’s going to be so much harder to recover and come back stronger.” I first had to keep telling my running coach that I wouldn’t be able to join him yet. And I had to keep pushing back my imaginary return date. Then I had to turn down my lifting coach for the summer. Then I ultimately had to tell the race director that I could no longer race. Finally, I had to see what I have beyond running.

It wasn’t easy, but it’s taken tremendous pressure off me, not having to rush my return to training. In the last month, I’ve made substantial strength gains in my feet as I’ve been doing my strength work on both feet. It’s taken weeks of consistency and drive to embrace the monotony and lack of excitement to work on foot intrinsics. But I’ve always made sure that I’ve done my rehab, to the point of blistering and burning off skin from my toes when doing barefoot strides on the hot turf in the sun.

Thankfully, things seem to be coming together this week. My ulnar nerve has finally calmed down that I’m quite sure that after yesterday’s acupuncture treatment, I’m good to go. I’ll be quite careful and won’t ride until I have a solid week free of symptoms. Maybe even 2 weeks if I’m paranoid. And, most importantly, I’ll be getting my orthotics on Saturday. If that doesn’t prove to solve my issue… then I’ll have to re-evaluate and start from scratch. But I won’t fret for now until I see what happens.

As I was reading another runner’s blog, I suddenly remembered a Dr. Seuss book that my coach gave me at the conclusion of my grade 12 track season, continuing the tradition where the coaches give all captains a gift.

wpid-wp-1435285662077.jpeg One of the things that my coach wrote inside was, “If all else fails, consult the book; it will guide you to happy and healthy.”And in the book, Dr. Seuss says, “Your brain and heart will guide you all that you do.”

I don’t know that I have any answers or great tips to give. But as athletes, we’re a different breed with different demons to deal with. One coworker of mine commented on how she sees this all the time. And people say, “If I can just do another Ironman. Just one more race. Then. I’ll be happy.” It’s that need of achievement to feel fulfilled. But she said if that’s what we think will make us happy, and we can’t make the decision to be happy in this very moment, then there’s something wrong. It’s a mind boggling dilemma. At least for me right now, it’s not even about racing anymore. I just want to be able to go on runs, to feel like a runner again. I love running and my heart says that I’m not ready to give it up.

Just like Abbey D elegantly says, I’m a person of faith. I’m pretty sure that this time of physical misfortunes has meant to be a wake up call and lesson for me. But despite that, I know that the lesson isn’t for me to necessarily give up on my dream of running and tackling 80km+ weeks. I’m just an athlete that’s been called to pursue other things but one that will always chase after the dream. Once a runner, always a runner. #trialsofmilesmilesoftrials

6 Things That CrossFit Games Athletes Taught Me


Photo by Rose Physical Therapy Group obtained from Wikimedia Commons

Regionals are heading into week 2 this weekend, featuring Califonia, East and Pacific regions. Like most CrossFit (CF) Games fans, I tuned into last weekend’s 3-day regionals, tracking 2014’s Women’s Champ, Camile Leblanc-Bazinet AKA CLB and many other well known names. I’ve only been following the CF Games for nearly a year now. I started following the 2014 Games in mid competition. I just wanted to watch something on YouTube and the live broadcast was on. I liked olympic lifting and since CF had it incorporated, I decided to tune in. I had heard about CF and Rich Froning before, but I was never caught in the trend – until I started watching the events go down in Carson. I was immediately sucked in and swept away by the competitive vibe, “coolness” of the events and most of all, I was in complete awe of what these athletes were capable of. The big headliner revolved around Rich Froning, who I had heard was supposed to be some unbeatable super human. Yet this guy was apparently in real risk of being dethroned. On the women’s side, I saw Kara Webb, who I had never heard of before, not being able to finish Midline March. My heart sank when commentators said it was a nerve injury. It’s not something you can just muscle through without possibly risking permanent damage. I had struggled with an ulnar nerve issue myself, so my heart broke for her. So you see, the allure isn’t just the fast paced competition. There are stories. And CrossFit is full of them.

Today I widely follow a number of CFers on social media. However, if you ask me if I would crossfit myself, that’s a whole other discussion and will be an upcoming blog post. I think I easily have the heart and competitive drive to do it, but I don’t think I’d ever truly crossfit, for reasons I’ll discuss in the future. If you missed the noise recently on Dr. Stuart McGill’s take on CF, click here. Whether you crossfit or not, know someone that does crossfit, disagree or agree with CrossFit, I think we can all agree that there will never be an end to the discussion of whether it’s “good” or “bad”. I am probably among a certain voice that says that there are both positive and negative aspects in it, and just like any other sport, there are always risks of injury. I for sure am a huge fan of CF Games athletes because I admire them as athletes and human beings. (Note: I don’t discriminate against athletes that don’t make it to the Games, it’s just due to social media and sponsors that I mostly hear about the better known athletes.)

Another reason that I’ve come to love CF is that I’ve learned a lot from the athletes about many things, not just concerning how to be a better athlete, but a better person too. Last summer, I was just getting better and feeling good again, after suffering one of the most trying semesters in Spring 2014. (More on that later in future mental health blog posts.) In retrospect, CF might’ve actually helped me deal with anxiety and more. Here are 6 lessons that I’ve learned.

1. Laughter is important. So is having fun.
When I watched the CrossFit Games Team Series in the fall, it was very apparent to me that these amazing, professional athletes are silly and like to have fun. Even though things can get very serious in training and competition, they still like to goof around with each other. You can easily also take a look at any of the videos that captured the 2014 Games behind the scenes and you’ll see it too. Being a CrossFitter that goes to the gym most days and lifts weights, throws med balls, ergs on the rower, etc., and seeks out the “dark place” or “pain cave” each time isn’t exactly the happiest time filled with laughter. And neither are the days when barbells feel heavy and you can’t nail your snatches. I honestly never realized the importance of laughter until my own laughter receded in Spring 2014.

2. Balance in life, beyond CF.
If you watch CF’s video on how the sport has evolved, you’ll see the ambassadors of the sport speak the truth behind the glitz and glam that we all think that professional athletes live in. CF is a very demanding sport and Rich Froning is known for doing multiple workouts each day. If he’s not working out, he feels guilty. Games veterans like Froning and Jason Khalipa know that there’s more to life beyond CF. They are fathers, husbands, business owners, etc. And although they take their sport very seriously, they make conscious efforts to also recognize that their careers in this sport won’t be forever and that they need other priorities in life too. We all know that balance is key, but hearing it from them really hits the message home.

3. Sacrifice
One of my role models and favourite CF athletes is Julie Foucher. If you watch CF’s feature video of her, you get a taste of what it’s like to be a medical school student, and a 4 times Games athlete that has never finished outside of top 5. She took a break from competition in 2013 for school reasons. And this year is her last year of competition before she commits fully to her studies and career. It’s mind boggling to imagine what kind of disciplined athlete and student that she must be, by always making sacrifices to train enough and also study enough to excel in both realms.

4. Truly loving what you do.
If you’ve ever heard interviews from Dan Bailey or Michele Letendre, you’ve heard of their comments about their contemplation of when to call it quits. Michele said in one of the videos that she was very close to ending her competitive career because she wasn’t enjoying it anymore. Luckily, her spark for CF was regained and led her to a 4th place finish last year. Honestly, this is such an important concept, whether you apply it to sport or other aspects of life. If you don’t enjoy what you do, you’re not going to be a happy person when you’re forcing yourself to do something you dislike, day in and day out. This is a good reminder to check in if you truly love what you’re doing each day.

5. Constantly evaluating and adapting your goals.
Since the Games and Regionals are multi-day competitions, athletes have to keep changing their strategies and goals. Sometimes you really have to stay realistic and ask yourself if you think that your goal is still obtainable. This forces you to stay true to yourself and leads to greater success. Again, this is applicable to many aspects in life.

6. Using your dark place as a prime strength.
Back when I competed in XC and track, when any of my teammates asked me why I was nervous before races, I would always answer that I was afraid of the pain and having the wheels come off. It probably took until university when I finally realized, that pain was actually my strength. I don’t know that there’s ever a workout that CFers do that isn’t brutally painful. If you don’t like pain, then CF may not be for you. Josh Bridges prefers to train by himself and embraces pain as his strength. As I’ve grown as an athlete, I now know that I’m no longer afraid of the pain and know that I can endure it.

“The truth of the matter is, very few CrossFit Games athletes make a full time living just off of CrossFit Games… Anyone that makes it to the CrossFit Games have made a lot of sacrifices in their life… when everybody else is doing X, Y, Z, the Games athletes are training, pushing to get better at something.” – Jason Khalipa

“If you want to beat me or Michele, you don’t just have to be like good and manage all the skill and weight… you have to be willing to die. You have to be willing to leave it all there… we’re going to go in that really dark place.” – Camille Leblanc-Bazinet