Stupid Psoas

I’m not running right now. I’m five months away from the big day. I’m supposed to be training for the Vermont 100K.
This was going to be an ‘inspirational’ post about my new eating habits. About all the deep powder days we’ve had.
But I’m friggin injured. The crappy truth is my brain is telling me it’s forever.
My psoas is messed up. It’s either a torn muscle or a bursitis.
And I’m mad. It hurts all the time now. I walk with a limp. My quad won’t lift my thigh. My right butt cheek is on fire.
I love running. I love the routine. I love the fight. I love being tired from a long run. You get the picture. And I’m not running. I’m not even able to walk the trails.
I’m on a strict diet of rest, ice and anti inflammatories. There’s nothing else to do. I’m going a little nuts. I’m playing a lot of Solitaire and petting Aggie.
So I pray. I pray for healing and patience.

Those are a lot of ‘I’ statements. Sorry.
In the grand scheme of things, I know in my heart, I’m incredibly blessed. This is only temporary. There are lots of folks out there with a hundred times worse health issues. I’m sorry if this is an inconsiderate post. I know you guys will set me straight and get me off my pity pot.

Thanks for letting me vent,


Flu, Round Deux.

The flu is all over the news. I’ve been doing a bit of eye rolling over all the fuss. Granted, I was sick for an unprecedented two weeks in early December. No biggy.
Hahaha. The joke’s on me. I’m the proud recipient of a second dose of the flu, only five weeks after the first. What?!?! Okay, I’m going to use my least favorite acronym……WTF?!?! Who gets the flu twice in a winter, huh? I’m healthy, I take tons of supplements, 3,000 mg of C, very little processed food and tons of raw veggies. AAAARRRGH.
AND I CAN’T TRAIN. Have I lost perspective? I know there are those who have it worse. I know it’s temporary, but I feel like I’m having to pay a bill I already paid. Crabby, I know.
On the upside, I don’t feel nearly as terrible as I did last month. In only two days, I’m up, sipping a toddler size portion of coffee and eating toast. That’s a lot to be grateful for.
Okay, I’m done boohooing. Thanks.
So, while between naps and some SyFy channel, I created a Tumblr account, My Tumblr account is strictly visual. Just photos. For those of you that follow me here, you may recognize the photos I post on Tumblr. They’re fancy re-dos of the pics I post on WordPress plus some non-running images I’m working on.
While I’m shamelessly promoting myself, my twitter handle is @vttrailgirl.

Thanks for reading (my boohooing),

Oh, Go Run, will ya?

Here in Southern Vermont, we were spared any of Hurricane Sandy’s wrath. We had been prepared for the worst, per TS Irene last year, but received only heavy rain and wind.

Earlier in the day, I read a runners blog out of NYC. She wrote about gratitude and the strength of fellow New Yorkers’ resilience post-Sandy. She loves her town and it shows. She said, and this is big, that the she wasn’t concerned right now about whether the NYC marathon was on or not. She has bigger fish to fry. Wow.

I spent the first 17 years of my life in Manhattan. I don’t often consider myself a New Yorker, unless its to brag. It is an origin of convenience. Or whatever. I never loved NY, it was just where we lived. But, somewhere, deep in my DNA is New Yorker. On 9/11, the first person I wanted to talk to was my mom. In 2001, it had been 10 years since we moved to VT. But, I ached for my city then as though I’d never left.

I’m feeling a similar tug to NY today. The pictures I’ve seen, the posts, TV coverage are all unreal. I feel frustration and anger and sadness. And all I can do is pray. It has to be enough.

So, what does this have to do with running, you ask?

I took a whole week off of running, without really meaning to. After my long run and then the CHaD race, my shins felt like they had daggers in them. Every.step.hurt. I didn’t want to stop, but I HURT. I hiked, I stacked wood, I cleaned (aggressively), I raked more leaves than any one person should. I walked. But, none of it is running.

And, I started to get bitchy. Really bitchy. Stop chewing so loudly bitchy. I started thinking maybe I didn’t need or like running anymore! WHAT!!!?!!! Okay, enough, go run. Slowly, gently.

This is the trail that started it all.

Mile and a half in, and no shin pain. Amazing. I guess I did need some time to heal.


Ahhh, and I’m back. I love these trails. They are my GF bread and butter. I can feel my mood lifting. I’m pushing out the heartache and the depression.


My gratitude is rising. Aggie is happy to run. I’m happy to run. I don’t feel as messy as I did. And less hopeless and helpless. Thank God for running. This was a short three mile run. Just enough to get moving and not re-injure. And to get my head screwed back on. I love running, I’m passion about it, and I better appreciate what I gots while I gots it. Before its gone. Big sigh of relief. And it works to help get me out of the way of me.

I think I’m more available for prayer for my fellow New Yorkers now.

I’ll always love you New York.- Ryan Adams