One final down, three to go! But man, was that horrible! I don't understand how most of the material on that exam was to be answered, since he never went over any of it in class. O well. I'll hope and pray for that life-saving curve to pull me out of the depths of a 50% to get an A!.... wishful thinking. I love the feeling of finishing a final though, no matter how horrible the test went. I'm just glad I never have to open a textbook labeled "Ion channel measurements of excitable membranes" ever again in my life. Bioelectricity was way over my head.
So now, after my ten minute trudge through the snow to retreat down into the cave that is my basement living room, I'm feeling extremely close to freedom, even though I'm only a fourth of the way there. I'm so excited to see The Damnwells in concert this Saturday in Chicago! They're easily one of my favorite bands, and also a band that deserves a lot more recognition and fame than they receive. They truly are an undiscovered gem in a world where fake plastic jewelry is the fad. I also get to see my cousin, one of my favorite relatives. I always love hanging with him, as he exudes the mindset of college as he lives in the professional world.
The only thing I'm not excited about is my damn hip. I'm getting shooting pains in the area even when I'm just sitting! The healing process for my stress fracture is such a bitch, as there is absolutely nothing you can do that doesn't cause some stress on the hip! I should probably rent a space ship and exist in a zero-G state for about a month to allow it to heal. Instead, I have to walk to class, sit on uncomfortable couches, and sleep on my side, all compounding to hinder healing and increase pain. Looks like I better accept that this injury is not a quick fix, and dig in for the long haul. My optimistic projection at this point is that I will be back to running in late February with the hopes that I can be in shape in time for Outdoor season which starts in March. We'll see how that goes.
Alright, I can't stand to sit here any longer because my hip hurts. I'll probably write more later, but I must study.
Tschüß
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
SNOW!
The ground is a blinding shade of brightness as fluffy, dry, white powder changes lawns from green to white, leaving only black borders for those brave enough to explore the sub-freezing tundra. It snowed all of last night, starting around 9pm, rendering driving inadvisable and outdoor activities uncomfortable. I always love the first night of snow covered earth, as the whiteness reflects enough light to illuminate my entire bedroom! However, the first snow also usually brings out an aversion to be outside, thus the unwillingness to complete my daily run. This year's first snow is so odd, though, as I feel no enmity towards the run-ruining, half-foot deep white blanket. Instead, it simply brought me closer to the warm feeling of fireside Christmas songs coupled with party mix and the smell of pine in my living room at home. Too bad the horrible monstrosity that is final's week presents a formidable challenge to surpass before liberation from my scholastic endeavors of 2010.
Another event that occurred last night was a failed attempt to have a going-away party for a teammate of mine. After much deliberation, I'm sure, he's decided to head back east to his hometown. The news of his departure from the team, which I heard not three weeks ago, was a slap in the face. I feel so distraught over the matter. As he is just a mere sophomore finishing his second season of XC, and I have been anything but consistently healthy, I've had little to no contact and bonding time with him. It's quite a loss, too, as I see myself in the way he pursues his athletics. He is extremely dedicated to the cause, always working to improve, going above and beyond his bodies limits to better the team by any means possible. He's selfless and strong. He holds himself accountable for his performance, and wants nothing less than his absolute best every day. He's become a role model for me, and it destroys me that I don't get to train with him when I finally get myself out of this rut I've become accustomed to. I wish him the best of luck back home, and I'm sure he'll be amazing at whatever he decides to pursue.
However, the party to send him off in style was extremely unsuccessful. After a teammate purchased $155 worth of booze for a mixed drink that was 10% by volume, hardly anyone stayed to dance and party, which in all honesty was the best possible outcome. The house was vacated a little before 1 am, and I happily got to sleep immediately. Unfortunately, today came WAY too soon, as studying is the majority of my schedule for the next 5 days. Speaking of that, I'll write more later... but for now Bioelectricity and Biomaterials are calling my name.
Another event that occurred last night was a failed attempt to have a going-away party for a teammate of mine. After much deliberation, I'm sure, he's decided to head back east to his hometown. The news of his departure from the team, which I heard not three weeks ago, was a slap in the face. I feel so distraught over the matter. As he is just a mere sophomore finishing his second season of XC, and I have been anything but consistently healthy, I've had little to no contact and bonding time with him. It's quite a loss, too, as I see myself in the way he pursues his athletics. He is extremely dedicated to the cause, always working to improve, going above and beyond his bodies limits to better the team by any means possible. He's selfless and strong. He holds himself accountable for his performance, and wants nothing less than his absolute best every day. He's become a role model for me, and it destroys me that I don't get to train with him when I finally get myself out of this rut I've become accustomed to. I wish him the best of luck back home, and I'm sure he'll be amazing at whatever he decides to pursue.
However, the party to send him off in style was extremely unsuccessful. After a teammate purchased $155 worth of booze for a mixed drink that was 10% by volume, hardly anyone stayed to dance and party, which in all honesty was the best possible outcome. The house was vacated a little before 1 am, and I happily got to sleep immediately. Unfortunately, today came WAY too soon, as studying is the majority of my schedule for the next 5 days. Speaking of that, I'll write more later... but for now Bioelectricity and Biomaterials are calling my name.
Friday, December 10, 2010
My life as a wastebasket:
What to do today, world... Such a vast expanse of time void of any and all obligations is such a novel occurrence. Let's see... I have no schoolwork or studying to do--yet. I have no errands to run, things to buy, or people to see. However, the strangest missing piece is the lack of cardio. It's going to be weird for the next few weeks trying to figure out what it is other college kids do during practice hours. I wonder if I'll be able to make the transition into boredom seamlessly.
But man... this is only my third day off, and already I feel downright worthless. I meander about my basement like a zombie, with a direct line to my bag of chips and the remote. I stare endlessly at the 40 inch screen with only intermittent pauses to gaze the 13.9 inch screen of my macbook. There is nothing on, but I continue to watch. I've been to the same websites over thirty times each today, and surprisingly, nothing has changed. I'm stuck in this dungeon of inactivity, too lazy to bathe for the first time in days, and without the proper motivation to arise and saunter towards the refrigerator to grab yet another coke. Hopefully my roommate will come out of his room soon so he can snag one for me...
To amplify my discontent with my current predicament, I got a brief glimpse of the outdoors this morning as I went to my car. Although dreary, bleak, overcast and breezy, the world has never looked so irresistibly titillating through my eyes. The creaks and groans of winter's leafless trees are like sirens in the ocean, a cacophony of wooded voices calling out to me. The fifty degree breeze fills my lungs with the scent of a post-snow warming with the passing of yesterday's sub-freezing high, even with the lack of a bright white blanket slowly melting over the trails I long to traverse. The distinct smell of track season was the nicotine to my addiction. I wanted nothing more than to lace up and run until total exhaustion.
But that was a passing glimpse of a time two months from now. At present, I am confined in these walls by a tiny little fatigue in a non-weight-bearing bone. The path ahead looms, arduous and formidable. Let's hope a friend-filled Christmas break will get me through the mental anguish.
As for now, I must commence doing nothing, perhaps head over to a party and observe the drunks in their natural habitat, engorged with two kegs and the prospect of carnal pleasure. Let's hope I get a few good pictures/videos, or at least a good story out of the night...
But man... this is only my third day off, and already I feel downright worthless. I meander about my basement like a zombie, with a direct line to my bag of chips and the remote. I stare endlessly at the 40 inch screen with only intermittent pauses to gaze the 13.9 inch screen of my macbook. There is nothing on, but I continue to watch. I've been to the same websites over thirty times each today, and surprisingly, nothing has changed. I'm stuck in this dungeon of inactivity, too lazy to bathe for the first time in days, and without the proper motivation to arise and saunter towards the refrigerator to grab yet another coke. Hopefully my roommate will come out of his room soon so he can snag one for me...
To amplify my discontent with my current predicament, I got a brief glimpse of the outdoors this morning as I went to my car. Although dreary, bleak, overcast and breezy, the world has never looked so irresistibly titillating through my eyes. The creaks and groans of winter's leafless trees are like sirens in the ocean, a cacophony of wooded voices calling out to me. The fifty degree breeze fills my lungs with the scent of a post-snow warming with the passing of yesterday's sub-freezing high, even with the lack of a bright white blanket slowly melting over the trails I long to traverse. The distinct smell of track season was the nicotine to my addiction. I wanted nothing more than to lace up and run until total exhaustion.
But that was a passing glimpse of a time two months from now. At present, I am confined in these walls by a tiny little fatigue in a non-weight-bearing bone. The path ahead looms, arduous and formidable. Let's hope a friend-filled Christmas break will get me through the mental anguish.
As for now, I must commence doing nothing, perhaps head over to a party and observe the drunks in their natural habitat, engorged with two kegs and the prospect of carnal pleasure. Let's hope I get a few good pictures/videos, or at least a good story out of the night...
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Persistant Prognoses
I am fully aware that a stress fracture takes time to heal, and that time must be filled with rest. However, depending on the fracture, rest can mean a variety of things.
So going into the doctor's today I had a theory that my cross training was the root of the healing problem. After much cyberchondria, I located a menagerie of running blogs with athletes experiencing similar pains and problems. The general consensus was that the pubic ramus, a non-load-bearing bone, was aggravated by more than just the pounding that results from running. Many sources said that the pubic bone can be stressed during the action of hamstring flexion. So, since I was in pretty bad pain after the past couple of days post my first light jog, I decided to out logic this conundrum.
I've come to the conclusion that all of the cross training, whether in the pool or on the bike, was minutely but constantly aggravating the stress reaction, allowing the bone no adequate time to heal. Solution: The upcoming Christmas break is gonna be filled with a few weeks of little to zero motion of any kind. Cross training will have to wait.
The end prognosis of the doctor was exactly the same as a month in a half ago; Cross train as pain tolerates, and wait for the bone to heal. However, at this point in my life, patience is hard to come by. I'm beginning to see the end of my college career, and there is precious little time left. But if I've learned anything from injuries in the past, the best way to deal with the uncertainty, frustration, and torture is to sit back, relax, and enjoy each day as it comes. And speaking of enjoying each day, I think I'll end this one with a few hours of Zombies. This Xbox will be the bane of my final exams...
So going into the doctor's today I had a theory that my cross training was the root of the healing problem. After much cyberchondria, I located a menagerie of running blogs with athletes experiencing similar pains and problems. The general consensus was that the pubic ramus, a non-load-bearing bone, was aggravated by more than just the pounding that results from running. Many sources said that the pubic bone can be stressed during the action of hamstring flexion. So, since I was in pretty bad pain after the past couple of days post my first light jog, I decided to out logic this conundrum.
I've come to the conclusion that all of the cross training, whether in the pool or on the bike, was minutely but constantly aggravating the stress reaction, allowing the bone no adequate time to heal. Solution: The upcoming Christmas break is gonna be filled with a few weeks of little to zero motion of any kind. Cross training will have to wait.
The end prognosis of the doctor was exactly the same as a month in a half ago; Cross train as pain tolerates, and wait for the bone to heal. However, at this point in my life, patience is hard to come by. I'm beginning to see the end of my college career, and there is precious little time left. But if I've learned anything from injuries in the past, the best way to deal with the uncertainty, frustration, and torture is to sit back, relax, and enjoy each day as it comes. And speaking of enjoying each day, I think I'll end this one with a few hours of Zombies. This Xbox will be the bane of my final exams...
Who reads a blog, anyway?
Ooh look! A website like Twitter where I do not have to limit my rambling thoughts to a maximum of 160 characters! What a beautiful invention! Well, not really. I hate Twitter unless I'm checking up on a favorite band, and this blog is just a manifestation of my boredom coupled with my irresistible urge to explain my bad luck to some unsuspecting readers. Perhaps it's all due to my journalistic core rising from the ashes of my now engineering filled world. Anyhow, this blog is not meant to find followers, make money, or complain to the anonymous of the internet. It's simply a way for me to vent in the only way I truly know how: internet notes with absolutely no purpose.
So let's see... I'll give "readers" a brief rundown of my predicament. In no means is this a comprehensive review of my life, but rather an overview with the intention of portraying the world in my perspective. I'm a runner at Mizzou who had a hell of a high school career. Freshman year of college, I had a few great cross races, then slid into track with a few victories, some quick times, but ultimately the indoor season wore me out, as I had never experienced racing in a large, dry, warehouse-like building on a tiny little banked oval. Outdoor started with a bang, as I ran 3:54 and change in the 1500 in 30 degree windy and sleety weather. However, that was the last actual race I've ran, and that was March of 2008.
After the race, I got sick, took antidepressants to try to fix it, wound up having no energy and limping through an unproductive outdoor season. The summer brought a diagnosis, steroids, and lots of rebuilding time, as my ulcerative colitis had pretty much destroyed my body's ability to recover. I tried running the '08 cross season, but got worked... bad. I then redshirted outdoor that spring in the hopes that a break was all I'd need. I was wrong. The following cross season I was inconsistent, but I managed to score, race alright, make it to conference, and mold myself into the best shape I'd been in since high school. The track season was approaching and I couldn't wait to race. However, an Achilles tendon injury during the first race in January left me sidelined until March. I was almost ready to rebound for outdoor season, when a freak knee bruise turned rouge, and became an unbearable bone bruise that required a PRP injection and months off. There went another year of track.
So naturally, I trained my ass off this past summer. I was fit rolling into cross season, but due to a group decision by the Missouri staff and athletes, a mass redshirting extravaganza took place this past fall, leaving me to race the home meet unattached. The next race on my schedule was out at Bradley University in Peoria Illinois. I drove myself 5 hours out to a golf course only to have my hip lock up 1000 meters into my second 8k of the season. I limped around the course, fuming and in pain, but the prognosis as of then was a simple muscle spasm. As the days went on, the hip did not heal, and ultimately an MRI pointed out a non-load bearing stress fracture: just what I was searching for.
The following weeks of October and into November, the stationary bike has been my life. I've already spent a full day on that horrible creation, and was about to escape its tormenting grasp a week ago today, but an inconsequential 10 minutes of 30 seconds jogging and 1 minute walking would bring to light the fact that the fracture was not healed. In fact, as of today, I'm in more pain than ever. A doctor's appointment tonight should destroy any plans I have of running indoor again this year, but I haven't given up all hope yet. There's always a faint light in the distance, no matter how formidable or lengthy the tunnel of life may be...
So let's see... I'll give "readers" a brief rundown of my predicament. In no means is this a comprehensive review of my life, but rather an overview with the intention of portraying the world in my perspective. I'm a runner at Mizzou who had a hell of a high school career. Freshman year of college, I had a few great cross races, then slid into track with a few victories, some quick times, but ultimately the indoor season wore me out, as I had never experienced racing in a large, dry, warehouse-like building on a tiny little banked oval. Outdoor started with a bang, as I ran 3:54 and change in the 1500 in 30 degree windy and sleety weather. However, that was the last actual race I've ran, and that was March of 2008.
After the race, I got sick, took antidepressants to try to fix it, wound up having no energy and limping through an unproductive outdoor season. The summer brought a diagnosis, steroids, and lots of rebuilding time, as my ulcerative colitis had pretty much destroyed my body's ability to recover. I tried running the '08 cross season, but got worked... bad. I then redshirted outdoor that spring in the hopes that a break was all I'd need. I was wrong. The following cross season I was inconsistent, but I managed to score, race alright, make it to conference, and mold myself into the best shape I'd been in since high school. The track season was approaching and I couldn't wait to race. However, an Achilles tendon injury during the first race in January left me sidelined until March. I was almost ready to rebound for outdoor season, when a freak knee bruise turned rouge, and became an unbearable bone bruise that required a PRP injection and months off. There went another year of track.
So naturally, I trained my ass off this past summer. I was fit rolling into cross season, but due to a group decision by the Missouri staff and athletes, a mass redshirting extravaganza took place this past fall, leaving me to race the home meet unattached. The next race on my schedule was out at Bradley University in Peoria Illinois. I drove myself 5 hours out to a golf course only to have my hip lock up 1000 meters into my second 8k of the season. I limped around the course, fuming and in pain, but the prognosis as of then was a simple muscle spasm. As the days went on, the hip did not heal, and ultimately an MRI pointed out a non-load bearing stress fracture: just what I was searching for.
The following weeks of October and into November, the stationary bike has been my life. I've already spent a full day on that horrible creation, and was about to escape its tormenting grasp a week ago today, but an inconsequential 10 minutes of 30 seconds jogging and 1 minute walking would bring to light the fact that the fracture was not healed. In fact, as of today, I'm in more pain than ever. A doctor's appointment tonight should destroy any plans I have of running indoor again this year, but I haven't given up all hope yet. There's always a faint light in the distance, no matter how formidable or lengthy the tunnel of life may be...
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