Friday, July 5, 2013

like spinach for Popeye


Running with low iron is an exercise in beating your head against the wall. It will make you forget everything good about the sport and make you contemplate hanging up your running shoes. (For good this time, I mean it!) Racing will seem like a distant, fond memory, and feeling refreshed after a run will feel like an impossible dream.

I should know, because about once a year I find myself doing all of the above. Don't ask me why, after 5 years of this, there's a delay in my perception and understanding of what's going on. Why isn't it the first think I think of when things start to go awry?

Maybe it's because iron is a sneaky bastard. Iron doesn't just wake up one day, tell you it's all finished here and that it's time to move on. Oh no. It sneaks around behind your back, quietly inching its way out of your body, little bit by little bit, leaving you with the feeling that you simply must be going crazy. You just need a little more sleep, right? Maybe you need to eat more? Maybe you're under too much stress at work? Or, (gasp), maybe you're just getting OLD.

Maybe. Or maybe you just need some freaking iron, smart girl. You know, that stuff you run out of every year? You remember, the brown liquid in the IV bag slowly dripping in to your arm? The reason you went out and found yourself a new PCP that has a clue about runners?

Yeah, that stuff. The good stuff.

After working really hard with my PT in May and June to get my Boston biomechanical glitch back under control, but still feeling like crap on my runs, I finally got my iron checked.
You can guess the results.

I've now had my two IV iron infusions and the difference is astonishing. As usual. I don't know why it's still astonishing to me when it happens every year, but there it is.

Having iron doesn't make you fit, of course, but it makes it so you can train, and that first run after the iron starts to sink in is like magic. It's like lifting a hundred pound weight off your shoulders that you didn't even know you were carrying. It's like being vindicated when everyone thought you were crazy. (See? I knew running could be fun.)

So yes, I wasted some time in May and June, struggling along at 40-50 miles per week with no energy and no workouts in sight. I had to cancel the summer race plans that I'd been excited about and pretty much throw out the training schedule I'd written.
But now that I'm starting to feel like myself again, I can't say that I care too much. My plans will get revised, new and exciting races will get added to my schedule, and I will love running again.

(That's right, Hood to Coast, I'm looking at you. I believe we have some unfinished business from last year.)


Oh, and one more thing: if you're a distance runner and your doctor tells you that ferritin above 11 is just fine, do yourself a favor and start looking for a new doctor.

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