The Pain Debate

A few days ago I watched a runner struggle to complete an 8-mile run due to what appeared to be severe knee injuries. As a result of her injuries she ran nearly straight-legged, as though her legs were stilts. Watching this run made me wince. I still don’t know how it’s even possible to run without bending your knees at all.

It is often a mistake, I think, to label “pushing through injury” a virtue. For many, though, pushing through pain is not only a virtue, it is a badge of honor. I do wonder if it is linked to the post-Industrial quest for something better in the distance, a quest that requires an eternal struggle for more.

Pushing forward in spite of injury rarely if ever improves anything. Doing so is often the equivalent of jogging on a high-speed treadmill, or jogging underwater in the midst of a powerful ocean current. Any attempt to move forward will just throw you back more violently.

I think of a story that I read in the book The Way of the Ultrarunner. A Kenyan runner was brought to England in order to run, and hopefully win, an ultramarathon event. At the event he was comfortably in the lead with over half of the race complete when he suddenly stopped. He grinned and didn’t appear to be in pain. When asked why he stopped he replied, “I hurt my toe.”

His sponsors could barely contain their fury. Hurt his toe? Of all the things elite athletes have powered through over the years… why would an established marathon runner stop for a sore toe? Yet his fellow Kenyan runners praised him. They saw the good in prioritizing and cherishing his body.

In the debate between which is better, I lean towards the Kenyan runner’s approach. I think back to two incidents from my adolescence:

In the first incident I was at a high school swimming practice. In the middle of a long swim I developed what felt like a severe stitch in my side. It was piercing to the point that I struggled to breathe. I stopped swimming and climbed out of the pool. An assistant coach was running the practice and quickly barked at me to resume the workout. I left the pool anyways. I trusted my instinct, which told me that something was wrong.

“Just get in the water, it’s nothing you can’t toughen out,” he kept saying.

Though he was furious, I felt that I did the right thing. It can be difficult when a figure of authority has a conflicting opinion to your own, especially when you’re young. Yet life is short and health is shorter still. What if the issue was catastrophic? Is finishing a boring swim practice worth permanent injury?

In the second incident I was a bit older. During a high school flag football game, I took a nasty fall on my elbow while sprinting. A golfball-sized swelling developed on the elbow and I could not bend it for several days. I do recall seeing a doctor for it. Eventually, after the swelling eased a little, I was pressured to compete at a swim meet, though the elbow had not fully healed. It still didn’t bend without pain. Yet I felt immense pressure to compete from all sides; in fact, I don’t think there was a single voice in my ear telling me not to compete.

I did reluctantly compete through the injury, and in retrospect I regret doing so. The elbow healed, but the muscle healed a bit oddly around the bone, and now there is a popping sensation, albeit a painless one, each time I bend the arm. It was not until recently that I visited an Orthopedic who assured me that although the injury healed a bit oddly, it would never cause an issue (just a harmless “pop”).

And what if the injury did not heal well? How much would I have regretted giving into social pressure and competing through my injury then?

You often walk a fine line when deciding whether to exercise through pain. You can feel immense pressure from both peers and from time itself. Maybe there is a marathon in two months and you suddenly develop an ache in your right knee. Do you run through it? Do you find a method of strength training to address what might be a physical deficiency causing the injury? Do you make a change to your technique that potentially minimizes the chance of the injury worsening?

Whatever you do, I believe there is virtue in erring on the side of caution. There is a time to maximize effort, and it’s not when you’re injured. You cannot opt to return to a routine that caused your pain in the first place. It is pointless to resume the activity that caused your injury without at least first evaluating whether you can make an adjustment that may prevent recurrence.

I admittedly find caution to be difficult. I often want to challenge myself. I often have a little voice inside my head saying, “If you can just overcome that pain in that one little part of your body, you can make it.” Admittedly, I’ve also had instances where I pushed through an injury that was fairly severe (and paid for it for months afterwards).

My own history has shown me that caution rewards more than risk when it comes to injury. Hopefully I can find the courage to stop myself on a run in the event of a hurt toe.

Rehabbing a Collarbone Break - Part 1

Today I returned to an Orthopedic doctor to check on the progress of my collarbone break. It had been two weeks since my last visit. The break occurred four weeks ago and I’ve been in a sling ever since.

Obviously, I was hoping that the bone has healed enough to rid the sling and resume normal activity.

I had some initial x-rays done on the bone, and a long wait in a patient room followed. Finally, the doctor entered.

“You’ve healed really well. The bone has reattached successfully, and I see material bonding the break together,” the doctor said (I’m paraphrasing). I cannot recall if he used the word “froth” to describe the material that reattaches bone, but I’m fairly certain it was this word. “You can take off the sling for good.”

The sling is gone! He then had me stand while he inspected the collarbone.

“I don’t see a knob there anymore. That’s a good sign. It looks exactly the same as your left collarbone. That means it really healed well.”

The doctor led me through a series of mobility tests. It was my right collarbone that broke, and my right arm had a fraction of the mobility that my left arm did. I was unable to lift the arm over my head, for example. I felt pain in almost every movement.

“You’ve been wearing the sling well. That’s good,” the doctor said. “The bad news is you have frozen shoulder. All the pain you’re feeling now is from your shoulder, not your bone. It’s from wearing the sling for so long and not moving the arm.”

I agreed to six weeks of physical therapy to regain mobility in my right arm. After six weeks, I’ll have a follow-up appointment with x-rays to confirm that everything has healed perfectly.

“You can perform basic stretching and mobility work, but don’t lift weights. Don’t lift anything more than ten pounds. A can of soda is okay. A gallon of milk is not. The bone is still healing,” the doctor advised.

“How about light running?” I asked.

“Running is fine,” he said. “You’re good for that.” I was relieved to hear that.

“And cycling?” I asked.

“Just don’t fall,” the doctor said with a smile.

I won’t ride a bike for a few weeks regardless. A fall right now would be too catastrophic.

It feels great to be out of the sling. Six weeks of physical therapy hardly seems like the end of the world!

I had a Starbucks latte as a celebratory beverage. I am “active” again and will resume running tomorrow.

Obviously there is still a lot of rehabilitation ahead, but everything could have been worse. The glass is half-full. The bone could have displaced further. That would have required surgery. I could have also had a worse concussion. The mind is a terrible thing to waste. As it was, I regained my senses quickly.

Six weeks! That means my final date of rehabilitation is January 13th, 2023. This is the date that I will have my final appointment with the Orthopedic and final x-rays to confirm that I am healed. Oddly enough, I finished physical therapy in 2021 around the same date. I cannot recall whether the final day was January 13th, but it was very close.

Now here’s to hoping I don’t end 2023 in the same manner!

The Weekly Plunder: Week 4 - Message in a Bottle

A blog is not a diary. It’s more like a message in a bottle that you send out to sea. You don’t know who will read it or if anyone ever will. Someone may find it in a day, in a year, or never. And what they think of your thoughts… is anyone’s guess. But they read your thoughts and perhaps they connect on a little of it and think, “Whoa. There’s another person someone out there in the world who’s kinda twisted, like me.”

What I’m doing: I’m selling a lot of my belongings. On reflection I’ve realized that many of them were purchased out of vanity. It’s easy to intellectualize and justify traits such as vanity and narcissism. “I bought the product because it’s sustainable,” we may tell ourselves upon purchasing overpriced pants. But the most sustainable place is a thrift shop. One day I’d like to rid myself of my vanity.

What I’m watching: Dawn of the Dead. It’s a zombie film that’s not actually about zombies. It’s about human nature. Both humans and zombies unconsciously flock to the shopping mall.

What I’m listening to: “One Night in Tokyo” by Beast in Black. It’s just stupid fun.

What I’m reading: Patagonia magazine. My favorite story is about a woman who loses the love of her life from a snow avalanche. She had planned to have kids with him. After his death she manages to freeze his seed and have it transported to a medical facility. After getting permission from her dead lover’s parents she proceeds with in vitro fertilization on herself. The first two attempts fail, but the third attempt is a success. She has her lover’s child 15 months after his death. Now that is a ghost story.

What I’m thinking: Write yourself a message in a bottle and send it out to sea. Maybe a shark will devour it or an otter will use it to club its prey. Or maybe it’ll land on a desert island and someone will read it and think, “Whoa. What a story there is in the life of this person!”