Listen to the Ali on the Run Show!
- Wow! This is amazing, and @ckreiswirth is amazing. 💕💪🏼 https://t.co/1dwtjP5ZUd about 3 hours ago ReplyRetweetFavorite
- https://t.co/jI3MaXItKw 10:50:55 AM August 22, 2019 ReplyRetweetFavorite
- Such a fun read about the woman who inspired the new movie (which I can't wait to see)! via @runnersworld https://t.co/okB7XKpdvs 10:40:10 AM August 22, 2019 ReplyRetweetFavorite
- August 21, 2019 by AliAli on the Run Show Episode 164: Carrie Kreiswirth, Breast Cancer Survivor & Marathoner
- August 19, 2019 by AliAli on the Run Show Episode 163: You Can Run a Marathon with Alexi Pappas
- August 14, 2019 by AliAli on the Run Show Episode 162: Allie Ostrander, Professional Runner for Brooks Running
- August 13, 2019 by AliA Tuesday in the Life
- August 7, 2019 by AliAli on the Run Show Episode 161: Lauren Fleshman & Jesse Thomas
My Trick For Snapping Out Of An Injury-Induced Funk (Plus A Giveaway!)
We’ll get to the giveaway part in a minute. Here’s a hint: It’s food.
But first I’m going to tell you some stories about how I did not get taken off the injured list overnight.
I hate waking up and hitting Snooze.
When I could run, I never used the fancy little Snooze function on my alarm.
Why sleep more when I can lace up my Brooks and run in Central Park?!
But now that I’m sidelined, I’ve been smacking my alarm clock every single day — not normal behavior for a self-proclaimed morning lover.
Eventually I’ll get up and do some core work or an On Demand fitness video. Today it was Ultimate Abs, which I’d like to rename 16 Minutes of Ultimate Boring. Was my core quivering by the end? Yes. Was I drenched in happy sweat with a 10-mile tally to start my day? No.
I’m tired of writing about being injured and how much I think it sucks. (My guess is you’re tired of reading about it, too.) I miss writing really giddy, excited posts wherein I analyze my splits and post pictures of the sunrise from the Reservoir.
These past few days have been crazy, and until today I almost forgot about the fact that my entire left side feels broken. I’ve gone back and forth to Rhode Island twice — once on a very plush Amtrak train for a wake and another time in a much more convenient car for a funeral. It’s been an emotional week for sure, and running hasn’t been the first thing on my mind.
I haven’t slept a whole lot — the train got into NYC one night close to 3 AM, and when we drove to Rhode Island we were up at 3:30 AM to hit the road — and at some point this week I managed to make my April dish (I cook exactly one time each month), which was a Chicken and Broccoli Rice Bowl and it was good.
I know it was good because it had melty cheese in it, and Brian ate the whole thing. I did, too, but I always clean my plate. Or bowl.
Today, though, I woke up and was going to go to spinning. I wasn’t feeling it, so I snoozed.
An hour later, I got up to stretch, foam roll, ice and attempt to get six-pack abs. The fact that I chased my workout with a massive bowl of chocolate-covered oatmeal probably didn’t help my washboard ab goal, but it was tasty.
As I showered and got ready for work, I started to slip back into my semi-depressed state. I let my hair dry while I scrolled through my Twitter feed and read about everyone’s amazing, incredible, SO FAST AND PERFECT morning runs. That was fun for me. I’m psyched for you guys. And then I tried to get dressed and realized that my beloved Frye boots have gone missing. My beautiful, finally broken in, post-marathon reward, I’m-buying-these-even-though-I-can’t-afford-them boots. They are nowhere to be found, and I wanted to wear them today.
Not being able to find my dang boots pushed me right over the edge this morning. Lauren can explain the feelings more eloquently and less whiny than I can, so read her post. Or read Aron’s, which is also significantly less bitchy and complainy than mine.
I miss my morning routine. I miss rushing around to get to work because I decided to tack on two extra miles in the park. I miss my Garmin tan. I miss my running friends and I miss Engineers’ Gate. I even miss the tennis court bathrooms.
I’m trying to stay positive. I really am. I know this pain isn’t going to stick around forever, and I’m refusing to run until I feel absolutely ready. And most times, especially because I’m keeping so excitingly busy, I’m doing OK with the injury thing. I hate to say it, but it kind of helps that a lot of my friends seem to be injured right now, too. I don’t want them to be! I want them to be feeling amazingly well and fast. But having people I can commiserate with and compare X-ray and ART notes with has been really helpful for me.
Plus, there’s still so much I can do, like cross train! I love spinning and strength training, and though they’re nothing compared to running, they’re still things I’m able to do.
Last night, in fact, I got back to the city and got to chat with and take a class with celebrity trainer Harley Pasternak.
I thought he’d be all crazy and intimidating and would scream at me a lot, but he was super cool and I loved the workout. I’m sore today, so that’s good.
The workout was fun, and I left feeling like my normal self.
Now I’m done talking about injury. Just like that. Officially snapping out of it…for now at least.
One trick I’ve been using on myself is to give myself a period of time during which I can be sad, frustrated or angry. I can cry a little, and I can pout — but only for a few minutes. For some reason I seem to get saddest on the subway. I guess that’s where I do my most personal thinking, when I’m wedged in a subway car in between the angry businessman, the lady eating a McGriddle Something for breakfast and the homeless guy convincing me he needs my money, even though all I have on me is a debit card.
So I get one song.
If I feel sad, I let myself feel sad for the rest of whatever song is playing on my iPod at that time. When the song ends, I have to think happy, positive things and get over it. What’s the use in being pissy for longer than four minutes? Nothing. It’s a waste of my time and energy.
And so I move forward, and even if my smile is forced, it’s still a smile.
Another trick: Make someone else feel good! Putting a smile on someone else’s face inevitably puts a goofy grin on my own.
So how about a giveaway?
I will never give away a product I don’t genuinely love, and my latest obsession (how late am I on this one?) is Greek yogurt. Chobani, specifically. I changed up my diet a little since my last Crohn’s flare-up. Whatever I was doing wasn’t working, so I wanted to tweak a few things.
That meant no more Entenmann’s Deliciousness for breakfast every single day. Sad and tragic, I know. But I wanted to test some things out, and starting my day with a bar of chocolate and sugar maybe didn’t seem like the smartest idea.
I always hated yogurt because I thought the texture was gross. Turns out, if you dump a bunch of granola in the yogurt, you have a crunchy snack that is filling and good.
No one is paying me to say this. I wish they were. I just actually like Chobani — blueberry and strawberry are my favorites, and I’m a sucker for the new little kid kind with chocolate in it — so I thought I’d hook you up and let you enjoy it as well. (Also, I’m a Featured Blogger today on Chobani’s site, which makes me feel cool. I may have a broken leg filled with cholera, but I can still eat yogurt!)
Want some Chobani? Like a whole box of it? OK. Let’s do that.
TO ENTER: You know I’m not going to make this difficult for you. No Twitter following, Facebook Liking or “Go to this website and pick a product and OMG tell me which one you want” stuff. That’s difficult. Winning yogurt should be easy. So, just leave a comment here with one happy thought. The happy thought can be “I’m getting a puppy tomorrow” or it can be “I like yogurt.” Simple. Good luck!
Oh and by the way, when my leg feels better and I’m back to running, shit’s going to get crazy on this blog. Get ready for an overload of exclamation points, sunrise photos and ALL CAPS DECLARATIONS OF MY LOVE FOR THE BRIDLE PATH.
(Also, I just want to point out that I was cranky when I started writing this post and now, for some reason, I’m in a significantly better mood. This crap is therapeutic, I swear.)