Don’t Stop Moving

These two knees took me all the way to Coney Island!

I’m not going to lie. I was terrified. I babied my knee all week but I knew that didn’t mean it had to cooperate. And it’s not like it’s just my knee I’m negotiating with. I’ve got these lungs that need to fit all the air in that I need. Let’s not forget about this heat either.

We started at Prospect Park, as usual. Well, not as usual. Saturday was my turn to share my Mission Moment. I haven’t done much public speaking since my teaching days and this kind of public speaking is a whole different kind of monster. I knew I had to try to push my emotion out and that’s always been where the written word has come in for me.

I’m going to share my mission moment with you soon — I wrote it first, of course. But I’ll tell you now that it went over pretty well. It’s hard to tell with those kinds of things anyway.

Coach Jim gave out salt packets; I think they were from Wendy’s. My teammate, Rachel, and I tore them open, cheers-ed, and took them down. It tasted like…salt. Bottom of the bag of pretzels salt.  I washed it down just before we ran off but the tasted seemed to linger on my lips the whole run through.

Funny thing about this run is that the longest stretch for me was the first couple miles. It felt like it took us forever to leave the park and knowing that the park wasn’t even a third of our distance that day was discouraging. Plus, I was waiting. I was waiting for my knee to say stop.

Once we hit the road, we were all still pretty clumped together. Eventually we spread out more, but it’s always nice to see familiar faces. To know you’re all going to the same place. We ran along Ocean Parkway, which was a great, fairly shaded route. It does have the stop-and-go of street running, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the trip to the Promenade. Plus, I was prepared this time. My personal rule: DO NOT STOP MOVING. When stuck at a cross walk, I jogged in place — eventually, when I was tired, it turned more into a march/stomp in place. I felt like a dork, but I already had the fuel belt on, so what did I have to lose. I didn’t care anyway. I needed to finish the run and I knew if I stopped moving, my knee would not want to start up again.

A while back in training, the coaches told us to take smaller strides because it put less pressure on our bodies. We did some running to test it out and it felt a little to difficult to think about. But on the trip to Coney Island, I was taking small steps. I was thinking of what my physical therapist said. Pull in your abs. Keep them tight. It was hard to tell where my abs were for most of the run because of the fuel belt. But when I took the small strides, it was easy to keep everything in check. Keep my IT band right where it should be.

There was a point, I’d say halfway through, when I listened to my body. I asked my knee if it hurt. It said no, it was tight, but okay.  At five-ish miles, I figured we were safe. I decided I was going to make it the entire way. Once I made that decision, the run was smooth and dreamy. I felt invincible, in a way. (Kind of like how I feel in the rain when I wear my galoshes.) It’s never been a mental barrier to get farther so if my knee was ready, so was I.

By the time I made it to the boardwalk, I was by myself. I had about another mile or so to go to the Brooklyn Cyclones stadium and back. It was hot up there and no shade to hide behind. I actually haven’t run much by myself since Team in Training started. It was nice to have a few moments that way. Just me in the heat, seeing it through. I can’t imagine doing this without my team, but it was a good reminder how individual our challenges can be. Coney Island was a win for me. A win I needed to keep this up.

When we finished up the run, we all headed down to the ocean. Some of us jumped in, some waded, but we all pretty much ended up soaked in freezing water. My mentor dipped me to my shoulders so I’d stop complaining about the cold. Then a teammate dunked me all the way in, not even sparing my hair.

We sat on the beach for a bit, then headed to Beer Island for a drink.

Slowly, I faded. My energy zapped by the run and the heat. I entered the sleepy post-run daze that I’m starting to become familiar with. I don’t even mind it. In fact, I can’t wait to feel it again.

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