55:49 Vs. 38:02

When I saw my first surgeon, or and even my primary physician, there were a number of things that I was cautioned against doing. Chief among them was running. Running is considered a high impact activity and is firmly in the "not allowed" category given the circumstances. I was pretty sure that I was fine with this idea, given that running didn't really take off with me. Every mile was a struggle to attain, I had to recover longer after every training run, I never got my lungs to cooperate even if my body felt nearly ready. My relationship with running with contentious at best, but today that was tested.

A friend who is a brewer (find him at #runbrewerrun) signed up for a 5K and a few of us signed up in support and to have a good time. This was pre-surgeon and I thought that I'd be prepping alongside my husband, but obviously that changed in a hurry. We got up before dawn and got ready to go with a chill in the air and the promise of a pint in our a-little-early-for-a-drink future. After a several false starts (how did we all leave our race bibs at home?!) we managed to make it to the start not only on time but in time to get a wristband for the after race drink. With all of us sporting Alta Brewing T-Shirts we all queued up in two different positions with my husband, our brewer friend, and our other friend at the front ready to run. My best friend, her dog Pearl, and I started out at the back with plans to walk as we both have firm directives to keep our place at steady walk for medical reasons.
It was cool, sunny, and there were some great hills to help stretch things out. It was a loop so we got to high five the other half of our party as they passed in the other direction which was great! But something came up: For both my friend and I, this was the first running event that we had both been to without running. We weren't allowed to join everyone else as they ran across the finish line, we couldn't keep up. We briefly discussed running when we got there, but agreed that it sounded painful. I've been replaying something that the hip dysplasia institute published regarding running: a shallow hip socket is like a nut cracker, and every time you run it's another crunch.

Afterward we went to Snooze for brunch and looked up our race times while we waited. I thought that something was wrong with mine because it kept telling me that I was 25, but that wasn't it at all. That was another beer run that I did back in 2013. I had a finished time of 38:02, and I wasn't even in great condition at the time. After more searching I found the right race and it was sitting at 55:49 and I can't deny that it stung a little. That contrast highlights the change between where I was then and where I am now, and I will never be able to go back, but it's going to be ok.

                                          Before (This was the first time I felt like a runner)

                                             After (This was the first time I felt supported)

 In the end it was a good day, we had a good time, Pearl got a medal for finishing, my husband ran his first 5K, and it was beautiful day. It's just some processing that needed to happen. Just because you can't go back doesn't mean that you can't go forward. 

In other news I meet the new surgeon Friday morning, fingers crossed for good answers and surgery in plenty of time for a pilgrimage in April!