I feel like I’ve been on a roll with my running workouts lately. They’re steady and consistent. I’ve been running three days a week, and usually doing yoga at least one day a week, taking a rest day, and filling the other two days with good swimming or spinning cross-training workouts. The runs are at a level of mileage that I’ve always felt should be a base: five or six miles two times a week, ten miles on a weekend. I feel good and primed — and, a bit wary.
Three months ago, I tested positive for Lyme disease. The positive diagnosis came seventeen days before the Twin Cities Marathon, for which I had been training, and about four or five weeks after I had felt my body steadily weakening. The weakening had puzzled me because it was accompanied by the usual signs of overtraining — body aches, joint pains, and fatigue — coupled with strange fever binges that would flare up in mid-afternoon, be quelled with steady doses of Advil, and stay quiet through the night and early morning until the flare-ups repeated in mid-afternoon.
Overtraining is a common condition among eager recreational athletes. The only issue is that I was not overtraining. If anything, I was under-training. I was being mindful of my age, the summer heat, and the fact that I had completed a triathlon just a few weeks earlier. I wanted to finish the Twin Cities Marathon in five hours or less, but I also wanted to finish it safely and with a genuinely honest smile on my face. A smile that said I had done a good job and had had a good time in the process.
The Lyme diagnosis provided the answer. I was not overtraining. I was afflicted with an infectious disease. I went on antibiotics immediately, and after about two days, felt well enough to resume what I could of training. I completed a 20-mile long run thirteen days before the marathon, which was cutting it close but still far enough in advance to do a reasonable taper. I enjoyed a long road trip from my home in upstate New York to the Midwest with my husband, stopping to see my parents en route. We spent four days in the Twin Cities visiting my husband’s parents, my sister, and several other friends while resting and preparing for the marathon itself. He finished in 4:14:56, a personal record. I finished in 5:08:38, eight minutes over the desired finish and with a smile in my face. A smile that said I had done a good job under the circumstances and was going to start training as soon as I could for the next marathon. I was — and am — determined to try and finish under five hours.
So far, so good. I rested my body, and resumed running after about a week’s rest. I began with very short, gentle runs of one to two miles, and built myself up gradually a week at a time. When a friend asked me if I was interested in trying a five-mile trail run on November 1 — an event known as the Fallback Five — I hesitated for a minute, then threw in my hat. I was ready. We did the run together, and I had a blast. Through November, I built up my mileage slowly but steadily, hoping to get to ten miles by the end of the month. I got there by November 22, doing 11 miles on that day. I followed that run with a “marathon in a week” during Thanksgiving Week, putting in a 5, 7, 4.25 and 10 miler. Last week, I logged a 5, 6, and 10 miler. And this week I am eyeing a 15 kilometer fun run, after doing 6 miles today.
So I feel like I’m on track, but I also find myself feeling hypersensitive. Is it odd that the last mile of every run is clocking in a minute slower than the previous ones? Or is that simply a sign of me feeling cold and ready to wrap up the workout? Are those aches in the calves a sign of potassium deficiency? Or do I simply need to stretch more? Is the need for as much as nine hours of sleep a sign of the Lyme returning? Or is it simply a natural need for rest?
I find these questions interesting because I think they speak to the nature of how we can use our workouts to gauge our overall sense of wellbeing and life. Alongside the slower miles is diminishing daylight and the onset of night, a night that comes early two weeks before the Solstice. With the muscle aches comes a longing for warm soups and hot baths, a symptom of winter. And with the fear of Lyme returning? I think that perhaps is a quest for long-term health.
Moving Your Body 