Walk Bike Run

Walking is my first love, when it comes to exercise. I still love it, though it's not enough. I like getting my heart rate up and the total trance that comes from running. Walking is ruminating, thinking. I can listen to a book while walking, but running requires music and rhythm - talking books are too distracting. But I still love walking. 

Potomac River south of Alexandria

Growing up in Ann Arbor, from second grade on, I walked to and from school by myself, just 5-6 blocks. Sometimes with a friend, more often by myself. I would sometimes take detours, a parallel path, a block or two out of my, discovering the joy of discovery. It doesn't take much of a detour - just another street over - to give that little jolt of exploration that I love.

When I was eleven, long distance bike rides became my thing. I don't know how much my mother knew about what I did, but I would head off with a map and be gone for a few hours. I think, now, looking back, I did go at least five miles away, across town and across the river. Always by myself. (This was during my loner period when my joined-at-the-hip sole best friend had moved away, and new friends had not yet replaced even a fraction of our time together.) I know my mother knew I was looking at a map, but I don't remember any resistance or quizzing about the nature of my adventures. As we were in the middle of packing to move to England for a year, readying our house for renters, perhaps she was focused on other things and just glad I was out of her hair. Or, perhaps, she actually knew pretty much what I did and was glad I was out of her hair. Supervision of kids was different then.

But I discovered the joy of long, slow, walks by myself during that year in England. After many arguments about the infrequency of buses after school, the (lack of) need for my older brother to wait and go with me, finally, I was allowed to walk the couple of miles home by myself. I still have images from these walks. Again, I consulted a map, but only at home, not while out walking around. I don't remember from the bike rides or walks ever any fear of being lost.

My bike riding times have mostly coincided with times I was dog-less, or had an elderly dog that wasn't a good walking companion. Sadly, my big oaf of a dog is reaching that point now, again. It's time to take the bike to the shop and get it fixed up to be rideable again.

After my first health crisis - disabling sciatica - I signed up for a LONG walk - the 2-day Avon breast cancer walk. Friends at work were doing it for the cause, tbh I was doing it for the adventure. The event was walking a marathon the first day, sleeping in a tent, and walking a half marathon the following day. I trained, a lot, and did some 20+ mile walks in advance of the event. But if I did that, that was all I did for the weekend. It was too time consuming.

I discovered running only a few years ago - within the time of this blog, in fact. Here is the first post - December of 2011. I bought a treadmill, and started to run inside before venturing outside. But I discovered running outside, and it's so much more efficient that walking. Cover more territory, see more things, get that heart rate up high. So far, my farthest run has been just over six miles. I'm not sure I have ambition to go beyond that, but I sure would like to get back to that.

But I'm recovering from the knee surgery, and walking is by itself difficult. So I'm back to my slow rambles, but I'm finding cool new places to go. Today, dropped my kid off pretty early at the airport, and continued south to Old Town Alexandria. Maybe five years since I've been there? There is an improved path along the waterfront, and new city parks, reaching all the way down to the bridge.  I got about four miles in, very slow, and towards the end, painfully slow. But it reminds me how much I enjoy just walking and looking. No need to shop, no need to eat, but just look and keep moving. I'm looking forward to running more, but walking will be part of things too.

Knee Surgery

Dressing for the hospital

So, Thursday. I had my knee "done", as we say.  I had a torn meniscus, and also have significant arthritis in all my joints, so success is uncertain. But it was limiting me. I could walk, it didn't hurt when I was just sitting around, but it was limiting me. I couldn't run. I couldn't go down very many stairs. I couldn't drive a spade with my foot. So I did it.

My brother-in-law dropped me off at the hospital and remained on-call to pick me up for this out-patient procedure. Everyone was so nice!  They kept asking how I was, and chuckled as I whined about my dreadful no-coffee headache. Within an hour of walking through the door, I was in the operating room and going under. The plan, which apparently worked out, was to trim the torn meniscus, smooth out the arthritis-roughened areas, with just four little incisions at the corners of my knee.

The next thing I remember was the recovery room, where there was a very rough few minutes - absolutely no idea how long. My knee hurt like hell. They pumped drugs into my IV, and asked every few minutes for a number to describe the pain (a 9 to start!) and pumped in more. I tried and couldn't focus enough to meditate, but I still thing the attempt was useful. In the meantime, I remember through a haze the surgeon came by - and I remember him saying "no surprises" but nothing else - and the nurse started up a conversation. How come I'm so healthy? Why is is that despite my (apparently advanced) age (and, unsaid, heavy body) I have no co-morbitities? I'm a runner? That must explain my low heart rate. She hopped on the phone to the nurse in the next stage to say "Bringing in a 63 year old knee patient. Don't worry about her heart rate. and blood pressure. She's a runner.". I got wheeled into the next room as my nurse from the previous stage was writing down the name of my trainer at the gym.

As long as he doesn't touch the actual knee, it's nice

Amusingly, the next nurse took it up right at the same place and also wrote down the trainer's info. By then, I was in a happy haze from the drugs, and finally got an actual cup of coffee, with apple juice, water, and graham crackers. I called my brother-in-law, got dressed, and was wheeled out to the car clutching my percoset from the hospital pharmacy and my ice bag.

I walked into my house, with my brother-in-law propping me up. Ensconsed on the couch, I visited with him, looked at the internet on my phone, and remembered the admonition to not sign any legal documents for 24 hours after anesthesthia. I felt fine, but decided the admonition pretty much should also apply to social media.

Later that day, my niece came over to stay for a couple of days. The night and the next day are a haze of disordered thinking and weird dreams, with no great pains as long as I didn't move wrong unconsciously. I hated the haze, but I had been warned by knee surgery veterans to not let the pain get ahead of the drugs. I kept a log on the white board on the fridge in my kitchen: when I took the perc, did the math for soonest I could take the next one, and wrote that down as well. The night of the surgery I got up in the middle of the night to take the next one on the dot, turning on the kitchen light, double-checking the written-down time against the clock, reading the pill bottle label to verify the right thing before taking it. But, by mid-afternoon I was stretching the percoset out. The drug has tylenol in it, so I didn't want to jump into tylenol without a taper on the perc since I'm hyper about tylenol and liver damage.  Mid-afternoon of the day after the surgery, just over 24 hours from the operating room, I walked around the block. SO slowly, but still. I used hiking sticks (actually, a hiking stick as a cane), which helped both steady me and take pressure off the knee. I did this for the ability to be able to move - I needed to move! Even though it was raining, the fresh air and the sense of accomplishment were fabulous. Ice every hour while sitting still. My niece and I spent time with movies and TV. I got 4,000 steps for the day! I had laid in supplies of both vegan and non-vegan comfort foods, and we each prepared our own, relying heavily on the microwave.

Size of a volleyball

The next day, yesterday I guess it was, the big move was taking off the bandage. It had effectively immobilized the knee joint itself - I could walk but not bend. Tight when it went on, it was loose and droopy because swelling had gone down. I have the impression the knee plus bandage was basketball sized when I left the hospital, and was down to a volleyball size when I unwrapped it. SHOWER and then four little bandaids over my four little incisions is the only dressing I have. Crazy. Still swollen and visibly bruised.

Tylenol and ice. A trip with my niece to my new basement gym (slow on the stairs, "down with the bad, up with the good", each step with two feet on it). Besides the prescribed exercises, back exercises and some upper body. Five minutes on the treadmill, at two miles an hour.

I can't drive until I'm comfortable bending and flexing the knee - it's my right leg - so we took a Lyft to downtown SS and had a late lunch at the diner. I had thoughts of walking around, but it was pouring and I thought better of it, so we swung into a pharmacy for bandaids and took the ride home. (I did shuffle around the block again when home.) Another movie (willing to rent from prime to catch up on things I missed in the theater) and an early bedtime because I had no nap. Never needed the percoset all day. The surface stings, the underneath aches, but it all feels better for moving and with tylenol and ice it's certainly tolerable. The big thrill was with my bandage off, I was able to roll over onto my side to sleep. Hard to describe the comfort and joy that gave me, after two nights wedged on my back with pillows under my knee and elevating my foot. I got 4,500 steps for the day.

So now I'm on my own, more-or-less back in my right mind (no wise-cracks, please) and aiming at even more exercise and activity today. In fact, while yesterday involved watching movies and reading books, I think today may involve turning my attention to productive pursuits - like enhancing my paltry prep for Christmas. They are not expecting me back at work until Wednesday. I may Uber in, but I'll put in an appearance at the office then. Also likely to sign on work computer and review emails tomorrow or Tuesday, and perhaps Uber out to see my mother tomorrow (based on pouring rain, I'm begging off today). I'm focusing on me and getting better, but frankly it isn't that time consuming and I'm just a bit bored. The most difficult thing I'm doing is trying to satisfy my fitbit that I am moving sufficiently every hour of the day - getting up and taking about 250 steps, which usually leads to other waving of arms and bending of knees before I sit down again.

I'm looking forward to being able to do lunges and squats. Quite a ways off, but part of my goals.

Not-so-Silent Retreat: The Hikes

We went on one or two "hikes" every day. Real hikers would perhaps scoff - we didn't rack up much mileage. But the trails were rocky, dusty, vertical, and sometimes directly through streams. I thought it was a great balance of activity and chilling. I need both.

The first afternoon, we took a stroll through a canyon where the highlight was a chance to climb on a rock wall above a waterfall. It was also my first exposure to how life is experienced when social media is not just for fun, but how one earns a living. Our professional photographer - and all of us - had to capture all kinds of moments to be used in posts that included tags for various sponsors. This was not annoying, just different. I'm getting more used to the fact that without pics it didn't happen, but in this case, it was not solely for fun - but it was always fun.  When we got to the rock climbing part, not everyone went up the wall, but I did. The difficulty was minimal, though as always the challenge is some transition in balance from using my arms to relying on my legs to hold me up.

The stream was mostly dry

I did that too

Social media life

The next day was a much more challenging slot canyon with a much taller waterfall.  It was truly scary, but we all did the climb at the end. First, however, we ascended a canyon with a very cold stream running through it, often forced to walk through the water directly. We had loaner hiking boots from one of the sponsors, Merrell. We also had hiking sticks (like ski poles) which I used for the first time. I have been reluctant to use poles because I think they look nerdy. But, balancing on rocks in a swiftly moving stream, I welcomed the extra help in balancing. I also found them useful for taking pressure off my knee when going up or down big steps.

The path is only through the water

Trying to improve my selfie technique - remember to smile!

Bits of sunlight changed the temperature

Gaining confidence

Slow shutter speed

Steep sides

Claiming it as my own

Yes, we did a bra shot

After chilling back at the house for some hours, we headed out to a place with big rocks for yoga at sunset. No pictures of the actual yoga, as I was doing it. Just the big rocks and big sky.

The next morning was literally up well before dawn to go into Zion National Park, climbing in the dark to a scenic overlook to watch the sun rise. This was absolutely the most amazing time. We had the spot mostly to ourselves, because of being early birds. There was a huge backup to get into the park we saw on our way out.

Not quite light

I could actually see the line of the sun move on the hills

Feeling on top of the world

This was pretty high up

The light is about to come

Everything is fabulous

More light

More yoga was done

Great spot for a pose - always paying attention

After dawn, we made one other stop in Zion to see some petroglyphs.

That evening, post chilling and before dinner, we did a trail run just a couple of miles from the house. My knee didn't actually let me run for more than five minutes. (I've got to get that fixed.)  Mirna the ultra-runner gave us tips and coaching. Since I didn't run much, I also spent time admiring the plants.

Trail

There was a very steep hill at the end

Datura

The last full day was extraordinary in a different way. We were going up a very steep canyon. It involved giant steps up rocks, requiring hands for me, and my knee simply couldn't do it. I said I was going to turn around, but due to a slight fear of thunderstorms causing a flash flood, everyone came with me. After the shorter-than-planned hike, we drove through the home of the FLDS (the splinter group of polygamists and pedophiles who think the LDS, Mormons, are not conservative enough. Since a series of arrests and trials, the world has come to this place, and it is slowly opening to the world. We did not actually see many people, perhaps because it was Sunday, perhaps because it was hot.

Enjoying the moment

A random arch

Apparently one is required to strike this pose when wearing this shirt

Perhaps the most brilliant day

 We headed in the cars towards a scenic overlook that required less climbing and that would be above any floods. But we stopped before reaching the spot, because the road was rough and it appeared there was a serious rescue of a mountain biker underway, involving many high speed vehicles. This random desert moment proved surprisingly emotional.

This patch of desert is the back door to Zion

We felt the end of our time coming soon

Community

Better selfie?

The final morning, the clouds and the rain were coming. We took a walk through cinders up the side of an ancient volcano. More yoga was done. Then were were done.

Early

Cholla cactus

Bye