Crawling? No, Running Out of My Cave

Limping into the doctor’s office at OHSU, I repeat to myself “Stay positive.  Stay positive.  It could just be a pulled hip flexor.”   However, the realist in me knows this feeling.  I know the feeling when I go out for a test run and I feel a sharp throbbing pain in one specific spot.  I know that feeling when the pain runs deeper than the muscle.  Sure enough, the doctor informs me “stress fracture at your right lesser trochanter and subtrochanteric femur” and points to some place where my leg and hip attach by the groin. Crap.  

Me on an actual roller coaster at the Santa Monica Pier

I manage to keep the tears from falling while in the doctor’s office, but the minute I step outside and phone my mom, I let it all out.  I needed to release my emotions.  I could accept the six to eight weeks off of running.  I could accept the science of how it was not so much an impact stress fracture, but closer to an acute fracture where my psoas yanked too much on my hip due to muscle weaknesses. But, I was overwhelmed with shame. I felt weak. How had I let this happen?  

The mental roller coaster of an injury is significantly more bumpy than the physical.  The physical healing process resembles somewhat of a linear line.  However, the mental aspect follows a more sinusoidal curve.  Throughout the last nine months, I have felt at the very bottom of the sinusoidal curve.  I have also had moments where I was just at the peak, but quickly fell back down due to another setback.  I have had moments where even the positive person in me could not see a light at the end of the tunnel.  

Can't run, but I can trudge through snow melt - Oneonta Gorge, OR

Yes, these months have reminded me of the importance of finding happiness without running.  Yes, these months have forced me to find a sense of worth without being a runner. Yet, they have also proved just how much I love the simple act of putting one foot in from of the other.  The hard workouts, the company of friends, and the competitions are all special.  But, what I am truly head over heals for is the simple act of “the run.”

Let's be real...I relied on countless carnitas-filled
meals to power me through

If I had to choose three words to describe myself, “tenacious” would be one of them.  I was not going to give up on running.  I do not regret all of the money and time I dedicated to the physical therapy appointments, plane flights, blood tests, iron infusions, chiropractic appointments, acupuncture appointments, or naturopath appointments.  I warmly welcomed needles (clearly had to combat my phobia of such), herbs that tasted like dirt, and burns from shock-wave therapy. I was determined to get better and I was determined to run again.

Today, I have the opportunity to run.  Am I still combating a bit of fear of injury?  Sure.  However, just like falling in love with someone, when you conquer self-doubt and you allow yourself to be vulnerable, that is when you cultivate a spiritual connection.  

I am so thankful for my family, my friends, Drew Hohensee at Kinetic Integration, the team at Maximum Mobility, Sean Dailey at Therapeutic Associates, Sarah Carter at Vitalize Acupuncture, and my amazing sponsor, Garden of Life, for supporting me throughout this bumpy road.

GOL products that fuel me from the moment I wake up to right before bed!

Fueled By Love

At the Sacramento Olympic Trials post-marathon after-party at the City Tavern in Los Angeles, I made a confession.  Originally a stranger I had admired in the running world, and now a dear friend, Kaitlin Gregg took my confession.  I admitted to her that almost a year ago I had read one of her blog posts.  In her blog, I read a quote that resonated with me.  I decided to copy her words and paste them into a post-it note on my computer desktop that I would see every day.  Kaitlin wrote “Running joyfully is my mantra - I believe that you can reach your potential when you run with gratitude and full of happiness."  Her words are not particularly revolutionary or advanced, but they are simple and authentic.  Although I saved that quote long ago, I think now more than ever, I understand what Kaitlin is saying.  The past month has revealed these words to me in profound ways.     

Logo designed by Reba Brammer and photograph by Andrea Corradini

In my five week marathon preparation, I struggled with fueling.  My sensitive stomach rejected every Gu, gel, or chew I tried to force down.  I approached race day not fully confident in my fueling abilities, but I knew I had a much more powerful source of fuel.  I was fueled by love.  I was fueled by the love from the coworker who never hesitated to jump in on my twenty-two mile long run on his lunch break.  I was fueled by the love from the woman who dedicated her Saturday morning to biking alongside me and two other women providing us water bottles, gels, and encouragement.  I was fueled by the Facebook messages and text messages from people expressing how proud and inspired they were by me.  I was fueled by generosity of the Oiselle woman who offered her water to me when I couldn’t make it to the next fuel station at the trials.  All of these moments and all of these people are the reasons I get to run and I get to run joyfully.  

Running alongside teammates Lauren Johnson and Carrie Dimoff and biking hero Fraiser Opel at Sauvie Island, OR

It may be surprising, but even though I finished far from my time goal and was forced to walk a handful of times due to dehydration, I loved the experience.  I knew going into the race that the marathon would be nothing like the half marathon.  It’s one thing to expect it, but it’s another thing to live it.  The marathon IS a whole beast of its own.  The marathon is not just a reflection of who you are as a runner; the marathon is a reflection of who you are as a person...and that is why I refused to quit.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I definitely considered dropping out and I fully understand why over 25% of the women dropped out.  I fully respect these decisions.  However, for me, I could keep moving.  It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t fast, but I could keep going, so I had to keep going.  When my body shut down and forced me to stop, walk, and regroup, the fans rallied and roared in cheer when I mustered up a stride.  I am thankful for all of the support and encouragement by those standing for hours in the hot LA heat, those hovering over their NBC Sports app tracking my splits, and those who have helped me get to line up with America’s best marathoners.

Side by side with Bowerman Track Club teammate, Carrie Dimoff
Photograph credit: Salty Running

Now, as my mom frequently reminds me, “Hold on to those feelings, Liv!”  Mom, I’m holding on.  As always, thank you to my family, friends, coach, and teammates who helped me reach one of the many significant stepping stones in my running career.  And like my Dad chants (see video below), Pickle is still on the run!

Third Time's A Charm

“Where am I going now?”  I frantically texted my coach after my race at the Las Vegas Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon.  After coming 25 seconds short of the Olympic Trials Qualifying time in San Jose, I was encouraged by other athletes to race in Vegas for a fast, flat course.  At the ten mile mark at Vegas, I was about 20 seconds under pace for the OTQ.  However, Mother Nature came in like a ton of bricks. I hit a 45 mph head wind on the final 5k.  I was hardly able to move.  I crossed the line more frustrated than disappointed.  I had come to Vegas determined, confident, and ready to get the job done.  After San Jose, I knew I could physically run the necessary time, I just needed to execute.  Strike two.  

Rather quickly after the race, it became clear to both my coach and me that Jacksonville was the next place to go.  Richard Fannin, the race coordinator and one of the most enthusiastic supporters of distance running, had reached out to me prior to Las Vegas asking if I had interest in racing in Jacksonville.  He had a mission.  He wanted to create a race focused on helping as many men and women achieve the OTQ.  His mission became known as “The Olympic Trials Marathon Project.”  He brought in elite runners from across the country who already had achieved, or were on a quest to achieve, the OTQ.  He brought in top runners Brianne Nelson and Esther Atkins to help pace a pack sub 1:15.  When I learned about this unique opportunity, I knew this was where the magic would happen.   

At baggage claim in Jacksonville, I met fellow runners and, instead of being eyed up and down, I was greeted with warm smiles and questions about who had the standard and who still needed the time.  My apprehension about sharing a suite with three strangers, let alone three of my “competitors,” eased after meeting roomies Stephanie Dinius, Rosie Edwards, and Rachael Brewer.  It was like stepping into a kennel full of cute, happy puppies.  We exchanged info about our backgrounds, our goals for the race, our foam rollers, and our trail mix.  There is something about sharing a pivotal experience with someone that expedites the bonding of friendship.  A specific memory that stands out to me was the night before race day.  It was going to be a 5:00 am wake up call, which for me, was going to feel like 2:00 am Portland time.  Like many, I often have trouble sleeping the night before races. I lie in bed and my mind wanders to the race.  I begin to think “what if.”  Even an ounce of fear can be a dangerous rabbit hole. Thankfully, my amazing roomie Steph must moonlight as a “Runner Night-Before-Race-Day Whisperer.” With a few calming words, she had me cutting Zzs.  It wasn’t so much what she said to me that proved helpful, but rather the realization that she genuinely cared.  I can’t thank her and the other women enough for creating an energy that fostered positivity.

“Brrrring brrrrring!” went my iPhone alarm promptly at 4:57 am.  The time between waking up and getting on the bus to the start line was a blur.  Gulping down my French press, quickly forcing down a banana and a bar, and making plenty of trips to the bathroom, I completed my pre-race routine.  

At the start line, I met Steph’s gaze.  We nodded at each other.  It was go time.  The gun went off and soon after I heard Brianne Nelson holler “OTQ women here!”  I placed myself exactly where I wanted to be, on Brianne’s left shoulder.  My plan was to stick on Brianne’s shoulder and let her do the work.  I wasn’t going to worry about my Garmin, what the clock showed at every mile, or how I felt.  It was me, Brianne, Brianne’s left shoulder, and a pack of women all working together to chase a dream.  We were individuals, but we were a team effort.  We were in a race, but we weren’t competing so much as we were supporting.  I told myself “this is something special.”  

The pack! (Picture Credit: Wendy Shulik)

There were a few moments during the race where I thought: “This is it.  Today is the day.”  I felt like I was finally going to get the time.  But, I quickly questioned it.  Sometimes, when I want something so badly and have tried over and over again, the idea of actually achieving it seems unobtainable.  It’s not a matter of doubting my abilities, but a matter of doubting the manifestation of a dream truly coming to life.  

Esther, Steph and me under the tent post-race

Turning onto the track with 300 meters to go, I could hear my mom’s voice in my head.  Her voice was so loud I honestly thought she was perhaps standing in the infield.  She was yelling, “Use your arms, Liv! Use your arms!”  Pumping my arms as hard as I could, I approached the straightaway.  For the first time, I saw a clock that made me smile rather than crumble.  1:14:00...1:14:10...1:14:15 and boom! I felt a rush of joy.  I did it. Within five seconds of crossing the finish line, I found myself embraced in Richard’s bear hug.  Then, I started hugging everyone and anyone around me.

As cheesy as it sounds, I truly believe in the saying “it takes a village.”  Yes, it was my body that crossed the line in 1:14:15.  Yes, “Olivia Mickle” shows up in the results.  But, my name is there thanks to a huge list of people.  The result is a reflection of the support I receive from my family, my coach, my friends, my massage therapist, my physical therapist, the guys who happily let me drag them out to help me with my workouts in exchange for beer, my coworkers, and my partnerships with Roll Recovery and Seed Oil Company.  Thank you all for helping me achieve this goal of mine and I line up on February 13th in LA with all of you behind me.  

This is my happy face. (Thank you, again, Wendy, for capturing this moment!)