The dog that didn’t bark…

When Coach Josh fell in stride next to me in mile six of Saturday’s run, I was able to report delightedly that my quads, hamstrings and glutes all hurt.

The big news, as veteran mystery readers will realize, is the dog that didn’t bark. My ilio-tibial band, bane of my existence for the last six weeks, was blessedly silent. The good news is, I can run and feel merely tired, rather than crippled. Bad news is I’ve blown five weeks from the middle of a 20-week training program.

But oh, what I have learned!

For example, I have good feet. This is worth knowing, and it came to me from Dr. Riccardo Tersigni, a chiropractor at Sport & Spine Rehab in McLean, with which TNT has a deal. Nice guy, checked me out, verified that there’s nothing anatomically weird going on, all my joints and muscles seem right, though I’m apparently a little weak and wobbly in the hips, which may be what’s causing the upper leg motion that’s stressing the ITB. He had a variety of exquisitely painful cures to offer, but no hard sell. He was happy to agree that if I got tired of pain, all I had to do was cut back on the activity causing it. (“Doc, it hurts when I do this…”)

It’s always refreshing to encounter that attitude in a health practitioner.

I also hooked up with a personal trainer at my health club who’s working with me on some balance and core strength exercises. Plus I’m doing stretches and the foam roller morning and night. Although the fancy, targeted ITB brace was useless, an ordinary elastic knee brace from CVS seems to be working. At any rate, SOMETHING seems to have helped. Gone are the sharp, stabbing pains from ankle to hip on every stride. In their place, just the normal aches that come with exercise.

Still, the longest distance I have done in training so far is six miles, and I have a 13.1 mile event six weeks from yesterday. I’m increasingly confident that I will finish the distance (a) upright and (b) the same day, but there’s no denying I’m way behind.

I’m not behind in my fund-raising, thanks to the many friends and colleagues who have stepped forward with generous donations. As of today I have exceeded my commitment of $1,800. A number of donors have cited personal connections or experiences, simply reflecting how wide a swath blood cancers cut in our world.

To those who have already given, thanks. Anyone else who’s pondering: Don’t think we have to stop at $1,800. You keep pushing that number up there, and I’ll keep going one more mile each weekend, and we’ll accomplish something important together.

Drop by http://pages.teamintraining.org/nca/zooma11/jmckeonymw to donate today.

OMG! ITB TMI

Any time you reach a halfway point, you’d better be prepared to dodge some flying metaphors. We all know that well begun is half done and half a loaf is better than two in the bush, or something. And thanks to Yogi, we know that half the game is 90 percent mental. But we also know that half-baked ain’t good and a halfway house is not a place to take your shoes off and stay a while.

So how does my half marathon quest look from halfway along? Answer: harder than expected. I had thought, having done a 10K (6.2 mile) race not that long ago, and regularly logging two or three miles in exercise runs, that building up to 13.1 miles over 20 weeks would be very do-able. That was before my right Iliotibial Band made its existence known.

The ITB is a band of tough fibrous tissue that runs from the hip to the outside of the knee. It exists, apparently, for the sole purpose of hurting when you run too much. It first tapped me on the shoulder during our five-miler on the National Mall on February 26 and has been a steady presence ever since.

Running uphill isn’t good for it. Neither is running downhill. The only real cure, it seems, would be a month of complete rest, but that ain’t in the cards. So, with the help of Coaches Mark and Josh, as well as the vast international runners’ gimmick industry, I have adjusted my mantra from “eat my dust” to “breathe in, breathe out, move on.”

And I’m not kidding about the runner gimmicks. I’ve bought a foam roller to stretch out my ITB, a process so painful I have to remind myself I’m doing it so my leg won’t hurt. Plus an elastic brace for just above the knee to hold the ITB in place so it won’t rub. Come June 5 in Annapolis, I’m going to look like Kevin Costner in Tin Cup.

I’m giving the leg complete rest this week. No running at all before Saturday. This will also give me time to nag the folks who have promised financial support but not come through yet. I’ve filled out my re-commitment papers for TNT, which means I really am going through with this. I will try to find a reasonable middle ground that will get me to the finish line as something other than a limping, staggering mess.

It will probably turn out alright. But remember, Mother Nature always bats last.

And remember, your contributions will not only ease my pain but help fight blood cancers and support some people who are facing real ordeals, every day.