Tag: injury prevention

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The Not-So-Great Shoe Debacle (But Progress Was Made)

Written 08/20/2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, I was rudely awakened—not by an alarm, but by a rebellious cramp in the back of my left thigh. A charming start to the day, really. My prime suspect? The shiny new pair of running shoes I recently introduced to my feet. It’s like they met on a blind date and instantly agreed they were not compatible.

The shoes are the same model as my last beloved pair, so in theory, this shouldn’t be a big deal. But as every runner knows, shoes have personalities. Some are loyal sidekicks, others are just fancy-looking foot traps. I guess mine are still deciding which path they want to take.

Despite the cramped beginning (literally), I laced up and hit the road. My ankles still muttered complaints from previous runs, but they didn’t outright revolt. So… small victory? The pace was slower than I’d like, but hey, I made it through the entire distance without feeling like my lower limbs were on strike. That’s progress. Limping progress, but progress nonetheless.

Honestly, I expected to be breaking in these shoes faster. I’ve already had two failed attempts at conquering a 10K with them—both derailed when my ankle started sending distress signals halfway through. But today? Today felt different. Not “I can crush a marathon” different, but “maybe I won’t need to ice my feet for an hour” different. It’s the little things.

My wife, the wise one, reminded me that all shoes need time to mold to your feet—and feet, in turn, need time to stop being drama queens. She’s right (as usual). So, I’ve decided to stop glaring at my shoes like they’ve betrayed me and start giving them the benefit of the doubt. Patience, grasshopper.

In other athletic news, my planking routine is going strong-ish. I recently had to reduce the time a bit—mainly because my abs filed a formal complaint—but I’m still going for over 3 minutes. That’s miles better than where I started (which was more like “floor faceplant after 30 seconds”).

Like everything else lately, it’s a jagged progress graph. Some days I feel like a fitness superhero. Other days, I feel like I’ve been defeated by a foam mat. But I’m learning that “hard but doable” is actually the sweet spot. It means I’m pushing myself, but not to the ER. So here’s to small wins: less foot rebellion, slightly happier ankles, and core muscles that are screaming just a little less. With a little luck—and a little more patience—Friday’s run might just feel like the start of a comeback.

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The 10K That Got Away: A Tale of Ankles, Alarms, and Accidental Discipline

Written August 18, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, both my wife and I woke up at the same time—a rare planetary alignment in our household. For her, it was her actual wake-up time. For me? It was two hours before my alarm, the sacred hour when dreams are supposed to bloom… not bloop. I tried to fall back asleep like a good little dreamer, but alas, my body had already hit the eject button.

So, naturally, I did what any sensible person does when denied sleep: I laced up and prepared to run 10 kilometers before the sun could even stretch.

You might recall that my last attempt at a 10K in new shoes didn’t quite go the distance. The shoes were brand new, but apparently, my ankles didn’t get the memo that they were identical to the old pair. (Same brand, same model—clearly not the same vibe.)

Determined to try again, I set off with 10K ambitions and a full tank of optimism. By kilometer seven, my left ankle started waving a little white flag. The sensible voice in my head—who I usually ignore—reminded me that no weekly 10K is worth a long-term injury. Especially since I watched my wife limp dramatically through that exact lesson last winter, I bowed out at 7K.

By lunchtime, I noticed muscle pain blooming like a confused flower around my ankle. My theory? Some heroic micro-muscle-tearing action is going on down there. You know—muscle damage, recovery, gain. Classic fitness folklore. If pain equals progress, my ankle deserves a medal.

What’s strange is this: the shoes are a clone of my last pair. Either they’ve been secretly replaced by a trickster model, or I’ve simply forgotten what it felt like to break in the old ones. Memory is a funny thing—especially when it’s limping slightly.

I was a little bummed to cut my run short. I only run one 10K a week, so each one feels like a test. A test of speed, stamina, and occasionally, ego. But doubling up on 10Ks would be asking for trouble—especially with my summer lawn mowing habit. One mowing session = four pounds lost. If mowing were an Olympic sport, I’d be in training camp.

Because of my kidney issues, I can’t load up on protein like a bodybuilder. My dietary rebellion? Homemade yogurt. It’s not steak, but it does its job. My weight’s been steady. My enthusiasm, less so—until this running thing took hold of me.

Honestly, I never thought I’d fall for running. But here I am, haunted by the ghost of an incomplete 10K and feeling twitchy when my weekly kilometer count dips. Do I like running now? Or have I Stockholm Syndromeed myself into it? Hard to say.

Despite the ankle twinges and lost sleep, I felt like I had two bonus hours today. More energy, more time, more me. Maybe this is what my wife experiences every morning. She’s been living in the secret bonus level of the day—and I finally got the cheat code.

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Breaking in New Running Shoes: Why 5K Felt Smarter Than 10K

Written August 17, 2025

Reviewed 8/26

Hello ,Dear Readers,

This morning I laced up my brand-new pair of running shoes, ready to conquer a glorious 10K. The shoes looked sharp—clean, crisp, and full of promise—even though they’re identical to my old pair. (Funny how a new version of the same thing feels so much more exciting. Humans are weird that way.)

But here’s the plot twist: I called it quits at 5K.

The reason? A deadly combo—rising heat and the dreaded “new shoe syndrome.” My left ankle kept threatening to roll with every stride, and I wasn’t about to limp home like a tragic marathon meme. New shoes are stiff, unyielding, and about as cooperative as a cat during bath time. My wife usually ends up with blisters. I, on the other hand, get sore feet and near-miss ankle sprains. Either way, not ideal for the long run.

I’ve been down this road before. Every new pair puts me through the same initiation ritual. Still, I secretly hope that one day a new pair of shoes will turn me into Usain Bolt overnight. I’ll never forget my first authentic running shoes—the way they felt so light I swore I’d dropped five pounds just by lacing them up.

For now, my old pair graduates to “walking shoe” status, still good enough for daily steps but no longer up for the big leagues. The best part? My running app now tracks mileage per shoe. No more clunky Excel logging. It automatically records distance, pace, and ties everything neatly to the shoe’s lifespan. Pretty slick.

I’ll admit I was a little disappointed. I wanted that solid 10K, especially since recent Saturdays have been hijacked by other plans. But next weekend, I’ll try again. With the laces cinched a little tighter and the shoes a little more forgiving, I’m hopeful they’ll finally cooperate.

Until then, I’ll settle for the small win: no blisters, no twisted ankle, and a shiny new pair of shoes with their whole running life ahead of them.

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Good Morning, Cardboard Chaos and Core Pain

Written May 10, 2025

reviewed 5/24

Hello Dear Readers,

Today I woke up with my body sending out what can only be described as an RSVP to the Pain Party. Most notably, my left shoulder/back area felt like it had gone a few rounds with a grizzly bear in its off-season. Every deep breath came with a charming reminder that, yes, I am no longer 22, and yes, running with sore muscles is about as fun as assembling IKEA furniture without instructions.

My grand plan was to knock out a casual 10k before heading to my sister’s shindig this afternoon. Reality, however, had other ideas. After dragging my slightly disgruntled limbs through a 5k, I waved the white flag. Enough was enough—this wasn’t the Olympics, and I wasn’t trying to impress Zeus.

When I whined—uh, consulted—with my wife about the mystery ache, she casually mentioned it might be from my recent plank marathons. Apparently, the floor space I’ve been using is less “yoga studio” and more “cardboard jungle.” Ever since we got back from Indiana, I’ve been buried in a sorting spree of my ancient Magic: The Gathering cards. Yes, the relics of my nerdy youth have staged a comeback, occupying approximately 47.3% of my study floor. (I measured emotionally.)

Now, my wife is not a fan of clutter. She approaches “stuff” with the same energy Marie Kondo would use to evict a raccoon from a linen closet. So, naturally, I’ve been trying to downsize the collection. Thankfully, a colleague of hers wants some of these dusty treasures. Apparently, old cardboard can still spark joy—or at least a trade.

The real issue? Sorting thousands of cards takes room. A lot of room. So I’ve been planking between booster packs and binder piles like some sort of core-strengthening archaeologist. My wife suggested—read: strongly recommended—that I plank in her room instead, where there’s actually space to extend my limbs without risking a landslide of mana.

Why didn’t I take her advice earlier? Well, I’m stubborn. Also, it felt like cheating on my routine. But considering my left side now feels like it’s been betrayed by my own ribcage, I’ve rethought my loyalties. She’s probably right. (She usually is. Don’t tell her I said that.)

I cleared a bit more space today, and voila—planking is no longer a game of human Tetris. The pain has subsided after some careful stretching and a moment of self-pity. Once I finish sorting the last of the cards—hopefully by mid-May—I’ll officially reclaim my floor and return to planking with dignity (and less groaning).

Lesson learned: Sometimes it’s better to abandon your makeshift gym and just listen to your wise, clutter-hating spouse. Especially if you enjoy breathing pain-free.

Until next time, stretch wisely and store your cardboard carefully.

—Your slightly sore, slightly wiser blogger

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Rest, Recovery, and Rediscovering My Run

Written December 26, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

I skipped my Wednesday run, which felt like breaking an unspoken rule in my routine. Why? Because my knee decided it was time to be the squeaky wheel—or, in this case, the squeaky joint. That makes three full days off from running, and honestly, I’m okay with it. Here’s why: I’ve seen what happens when you don’t give your body time to heal. My wife once pushed through an injury, thinking she was invincible, and let’s just say her recovery became a long-term project. I’d rather learn from her experience than repeat it. 

When your knee is unhappy, you suddenly realize how much you depend on it. For instance, going down the stairs earlier this week was like walking a tightrope while juggling knives—not exactly graceful. It was a sharp reminder to pay attention to the signals my body was sending. On Tuesday and Wednesday, every descent was a little “ouch” here and a little “yikes” there. But today? The stairs and I are back to being friends. My knee no longer complains, which I’m taking as a good sign.

This forced break has been an interesting shift. As a runner, rest days feel like a guilty pleasure, like sneaking a second slice of cake when no one’s watching. But sometimes, your body needs that slice of metaphorical cake—or, in this case, a few days to repair itself. Skipping runs isn’t easy for me; I love the rhythm of hitting the pavement and the mental clarity it brings. But I’d rather take three days off now than risk being sidelined for weeks later.

Rest has its perks, though. I’ve caught up on some reading, spent more time planning my next running goals, and even got an extra hour of sleep here and there. (Who knew recovery could feel this luxurious?) More importantly, I can feel the difference in my knee. It no longer twinges when I walk downstairs, and it’s not screaming for attention every time I move. That’s progress I can celebrate.

I’ll lace up my running shoes again tomorrow, and I’m hopeful it’ll be a smooth, pain-free return. With three days of rest under my belt, I feel like a sprinter at the starting block, ready to channel all my pent-up energy into a fast, satisfying run. There are no guarantees I’ll break any records, but hey, after days of forced patience, even a moderate jog will feel like a victory lap.

If there’s one takeaway from this experience, it’s this: listen to your body. Rest isn’t the enemy—it’s the secret weapon for coming back stronger. Whether it’s your knee, your back, or just a sense of exhaustion creeping in, sometimes stepping back is the best way to keep moving forward.

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Navigating Fitness Goals: A Professor’s Perspective

Written on February 26, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

As the year began, I embarked on a fitness journey, meticulously crafting an exercise regimen to meet my annual objectives. This endeavor progressed smoothly until an unexpected setback occurred—I sustained an injury during my workouts. This incident led me to realize that perhaps my physique had yet to adapt to the demands of my newly formulated workout plan. Upon resuming my entire exercise routine, I recognized the necessity to reassess and adjust the intensity of my schedule to better accommodate my current physical capabilities.

The essence of achieving any goal lies in creating a memorable and trackable strategy. This is a lesson I frequently impart to my students at the university. Despite its apparent simplicity, it’s astonishing how often this principle is overlooked, resulting in many falling short of their ambitions. When I applied this methodology to my fitness regimen, the tangible outcomes began to manifest, prompting a thorough evaluation of my previous efforts and outcomes.

Reflecting on my journey, it became evident that my earlier injury likely resulted from overly ambitious increments in the weights I used for curls. After conducting thorough research and contemplation, I devised a more calculated approach to increasing weights. I resolved that only when I could complete 25 repetitions of a curl with a given weight without interruption would I consider advancing to a heavier weight. Conversely, I would reduce the weight if I struggled to perform at least 15 curls. My daily target would be between 20 to 25 repetitions, with Saturdays designated as the day to assess whether I was prepared to elevate the intensity of my workout.

This revised strategy serves dual purposes. Firstly, it ensures that I do not prematurely escalate the difficulty of my exercises, thereby mitigating the risk of injury. Secondly, it provides a structured framework to consistently monitor my progress and adjust as needed. This balanced approach encourages gradual improvement while safeguarding against the pitfalls of overexertion. The actual test of this method’s efficacy will be observed in the coming months as I continue to navigate the challenges and triumphs of my fitness journey.

In retrospect, this experience underscores the importance of listening to one’s body and acknowledging the signals it provides. The journey toward fitness and health is uniquely personal, requiring a bespoke approach considering individual capabilities, limitations, and aspirations. By adopting a more reflective and measured stance towards exercise, I am hopeful that I will achieve my fitness goals and foster a sustainable and enjoyable relationship with physical activity.

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Becoming a Stronger Runner: Adjusting Plans and Embracing the Weather

Written on February 18, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

As I reflect on my running and fitness journey, I can’t help but acknowledge a subtle but significant transformation: I am slowly but surely becoming a better runner and, undeniably, more potent than I was last year. This realization isn’t just about logging more miles or lifting heavier weights; it’s about intelligent adjustments to my training regime and a deeper understanding of my body’s capabilities and limits.

Setting a rigid schedule for increasing weights and repetitions might be the key to consistent progress. However, experience has taught me that a more flexible approach, one that’s tied to my ability to meet my current targets comfortably, is far superior. Last year, I adopted a rule where I would only progress to a more challenging exercise level after completing my routine ten times. This method, grounded in patience and persistence, enhanced my strength without overburdening my body. It’s a strategy I plan to carry into this year’s workouts, mainly to avoid the pitfalls of injuries – a lesson learned the hard way following a recent setback.

Weather, I’ve come to realize, plays a more crucial role in my running routine than I once thought. Living in the southern United States, Nashville provides a favorable climate for year-round outdoor activities. Yet, we’re not strangers to the occasional cold snap. Just yesterday, an unexpected drop in temperature cut my planned 10k run in half. The cold tests my endurance by forcing my body to expend extra energy to stay warm and challenges my willpower. Despite these hurdles, the beauty of residing in a Southern state like Tennessee is the brief nature of our cold spells. The forecast promises more agreeable, spring-like conditions, even in February, allowing me to look forward to resuming my complete exercise regimen.

My wife and I’s previous life in Canada puts these minor inconveniences into perspective. With their relentless cold, the Canadian winters made outdoor activities a much more daunting endeavor. Hence, Nashville’s climate is far more conducive to maintaining a consistent running schedule, and I remind myself not to dwell too much on the occasional chilly day.

Ultimately, the cornerstone of my journey is continuous health improvement. My commitment to exercise remains unwavering despite the challenges, including weather fluctuations and injuries. This path isn’t just about achieving personal bests or attaining specific fitness milestones; it’s about the enduring benefits of a healthier lifestyle and the joy of embracing every step of the journey, regardless of outside conditions.