Dealing with Loss of Fitness

I have 8 more weeks left of grad school. I finally finished the required 500 clinical hours that left me with little time to train for anything, let alone just exercise. Lack of physical activity means more to me than just loss of training, though. It means that I have lost much of my stress release, which is crucial for a nurse.

Nursing is a stressful career, because nurses deal with the lives of people on an everyday basis. The care we provide affects us and our patients on a physical, emotional, and, many times, spiritual level. Yes, it is rewarding in so many ways, but that doesn’t prevent the stress from creeping in and gnawing at our psyche. And while exercise does not prevent the anxiety and stress I feel during my shift, it does help me get a grip on it. Physical activity helps with resiliency. It makes me hardier; therefore, not being able to exercise caused me additional stress on top of removing some of my ability to deal with said pressure. In other words, there was a lot more chocolate ingested in those months!!! Chocolate became my inefficient coping method.

In regards to training, I am now realizing how tough it is going to be to get back what fitness I had lost prior to school. Not to mention, lose the 15 -20 pounds that I gained during grad school (I did mention how mini Twix and Snickers replaced exercise as a stress release those months…). In December I would officially begin my 50-mile training, but will I be ready by then?

I recently finished a 10k race with my older brother, Kevin, on October 14. It was his first 10k race and, though it certainly wasn’t my first, I was nervous that I would not be able to finish it due to lack of running and he was so excited to run this race together. Siblings united. I remember when he “dollnapped” my Cabbage Patch Kid when we were children. I would chase after him, anxiously trying to get my doll back from the clutches of my older brother who sought to antagonize me as many times as he could (Alas, he has matured since then. Ha! Ha! Love you brother!!). Back then the only time we ever ran together were when I was chasing him or vice versa, usually with one of us yelling or threatening to tell mom or dad. This was the first time we would be running towards a common goal together. I couldn’t let him down.

At the start of HB Surf City 10 10K. I may have looked confident, but I was honestly nervous!

He told me his goal was to finish at a 10:30 or 11:00 minute mile pace. No problem. It was a flat, fast course, right?? I can manage that. We ran the first mile at a 10:38 minute pace. He was keeping up with no issues so I decided to go a little faster with each mile. I was so proud of my brother! He was smiling and keeping up with the accelerated pace while I, on the other hand, was trying to control my respiratory rate to no avail. I didn’t stop, but I was secretly hoping Kevin would ask for a walk break so I could take a breather without feeling like it was my first 10k instead of the other way around. We ran through the finish line at an 8:47 pace. My brother looked like he could easily run another 6 miles while I looked like I narrowly escaped being in respiratory arrest. I couldn’t believe how hard it was to run a 10k now when I had run a 50 miler in 2016! How quickly one’s fitness fades!

Kevin and I flashing our medals – October 14, 2018

Since that race I have done a few more training runs on the trails. Last Sunday, I tried to run 15 miles with my boyfriend, Chris. We started at Sycamore Canyon trailhead in Whittier, which leads to Sycamore Switchbacks. And, yes, it’s as evil as it sounds. I silently cursed myself for suggesting this trail. While it is not as bad as the 99 switchbacks at Mount Whitney, it is still an exhausting task. At least for me it is. Of course, Chris zoomed past me and I spent most of my time glaring at his back while my pace got slower and slower and slower until I finally reached Rattlesnake Ridge Trail where he was patiently waiting for me, looking unperturbed by the hideous ascent.

Sycamore Canyon Switchbacks (Whittier, CA)

We then proceeded to run (or in my case, hike/crawl) towards Nike Hill to get more mileage. I was beginning to feel like I needed to be institutionalized because who in their right mind would want to do a trail with the word, “hill”, in it after finishing another trail that contained the word, “switchbacks”, in it. Nevertheless, we ran down Nike Hill and I was feeling pretty good at that moment, because, you know, it was downhill as opposed to uphill. Usually, this would be the end of my run and I would be happy to walk to my car across the street, but since this was mile 7 and I had another 8 miles to go (not to mention, my car was parked at another trailhead), I was not in a celebratory mood. Running down Nike Hill meant that I had to hike back up, because I certainly could not run it at this moment. Chris couldn’t run it either, but his legs carried him up quicker than mine. Plus I had to stop and hyperventilate a few times! When will this get easier?

Chris and I taking a photo break (Whittier, CA)

When I finally reached the top of Nike Hill, I knew I was tapped out. I couldn’t make it all the way back to Sycamore. I ran/hiked the best I could through the woodchips. We were heading towards Coyote Trail, which was part of the course I take when doing my 5-mile loop at Hacienda Hills. I knew Coyote Trail was mainly downhill towards the Hacienda Hills trailhead with a few small inclines. I also knew I could cut out 2 miles if I went this way. Some people may call this cheating, but I was thinking along the lines of survival!  I told Chris my plan. I would continue on Coyote and wait for him down at the Hacienda Hills trailhead. There was a water fountain and a shaded bench there so I knew I would be ok. He would continue on back towards Sycamore and pick me up afterwards. He agreed and I ran down the familiar trail, dodging hikers and unleashed dogs. I ended up doing a little over 12 miles that day. It was a tough trail run and I was not prepared for the hardship. However, one good thing came out of it…I didn’t trip this time!

What a view! (Whittier, CA)