This post could easily slide into my "Being 50" blog but it's fitness related so I'm sharing my thoughts on this rather neglected blog instead (if someone paid me to write this kind of stuff I'd gladly pump it out daily. Just a thought, future employer.) Plus I said I wouldn't whine and complain on my "Being 50" blog and today's entry has a bit of that going for it. In a humorous way, of course. I hope.
So, since turning 50, my fitness routine has not changed. I am still training for running events: 30K Around the Bay happens at the end of next month, which leads up to my second full marathon (Mississauga Marathon) in May. Some 5 Peaks trail running events are scattered throughout spring and summer, as well as the good ol' MET CON BLUE in June, just for fun. Probably another half marathon or two between spring and fall. It all gets me so charged up. Still loving it.
I swear, since turning 50 last month, MY BODY IS DRIVING ME CRAZY. It hurts, all over. Excuse my language, but WTF. My upper arms and shoulders hurt, my hips ache. To give you an example (Go ahead, laugh at this. If you picture it in your head, you can't help but not laugh. I won't hold it against you. I think I should ask my gifted artist of a daughter to illustrate what I am about to describe.): It is hard for me to take my top off. Yes. It's true. When the pain was at its worst, I could manage to pull a top to about nose level, then I would have to get my 11 year old son to help me pull it over my head. The first time it happened, I thought, "You've got to be f---ing kidding me. WTF. WTF. WTF." When my arms are crossed over like that, they refuse to let me lift them higher than shoulder level. A couple of people have told me it's my rotator cuff. I Googled it, (of course, because we all love to self-diagnose now, don't we?) and yes, it sounds like that could be the issue. So I really should get that checked. Either that or start yanking all my tops and bras over my hips and butt. Sometimes that works, but not all my clothes are made of Spandex.
OK, so on to my next whiny complaint: ever since a 20K long run a couple of Saturdays ago, my hip joints have been aching. Joints again. I think "old age" when I say joints (as opposed to what I would have thought in my early 20s). So…I feel like I suddenly have acquired (ouch, I just moved my left arm while typing this and got some elbow pain. Holy frig. WTF.) joint pain issues all over my body.
During an indoor run around Base Borden track this morning my good running friend and neighbour Janate suggested a few things and I tend to listen to Janate because she is healthy and fit and also an exceptional nurse (the job cuts in nursing sound like an absolutely disastrous idea for our province, by the way, but that's a whole other blog). So, number one, I need to go for an annual physical. Missed last year's because my amazing women's doctor decided to retire the exact month I was due for my appointment. Number two, it may be time to ditch the running shoes for new ones. They do have several hundred kilometres on them. That could account for the hip pain. Number three, I never hydrate as much as I should. Not replenishing properly with fluids and electrolytes can cause aches and pains. When it comes to the arms, I likely overdid it with weight training and then continued to train through a nagging pain instead of resting. I might have torn ligaments and developed scar tissue and then re-injured the same area instead of resting it and letting it heal.
And of course, like I always say, I really should follow a yoga practice. That could solve everything, probably.
In the meantime, I have booked a massage for tomorrow. I am kind of in "interviewer" mode for massage therapists. I need to find one who works with sports injuries. There's a phrase I never thought I would use as it relates to me: sports injury. Wow, kind of feel like a jock. My 11 year old future soccer superstar son would laugh if he read that. Yet at the same time, I'll bet he'd be happy if he didn't have to help his mom undress. (And yes, I could ask my husband to do that, I mean let's face it, it could be a rather sexy predicament, right? Unless it's helping me out of my sports bra after a 25K run. Eww. Yuck. I wouldn't even let my son suffer through that. But by the time I am getting my jammies on for the evening, he's already in semi snooze-mode in front of the TV. Again, food for thought for another blog about 50-something married couples...)
Gotta change out of these workout clothes now. Wish me luck.