Amy Reinink

I’ve found a way to appreciate every step of your run that doesn’t require a trip to a Buddhist running camp, or require any annoying mindfulness exercises. It’s called run-walking, and it has a hidden benefit of being an excellent way to come back from an injury or other training hiatus.

Here’s how mine went last night:

A few runner-friends also rehabbing from injuries, illnesses and pregnancies (we kind of run the gamut) and I met our whole running group at Pacers Silver Spring for our regular group run last night. We set out on the planned route, alternating five minutes of walking with three of running, turning around to head home after about 15 minutes.

The magic is this: Every time we stopped running, I pouted, and wondered whether it had *really* been three minutes. And every time we got to the end of our five-minute walk, I was chomping at the bit to run again. It was like reliving the joy of the first minute of that first post-injury run over and over, and at the end, adding an extra 30 seconds or so felt like a treat—like someone had handed me an ice-cream sundae (I don’t know about you, but this is *not* the way I usually feel when I add time to the end of my run).

While running the heck out of a route serves as its own form of catharsis, I’m totally appreciating every step of my comeback.

Have you done this run-walking business? How did you transition back to full running? Did running only part of the time give you a new appreciation for the sport?

On Saturday night, Steve and I hosted a party for our ski-patrol candidate class to celebrate the end of a successful ski season (OK, I was mostly just celebrating it being over … but we all had fun and ate cake, so same difference, right?).

Brownie cake with homemade buttercream frosting heals all wounds.

It was great getting to see our classmates, with whom we’ve shared dozens upon dozens of intense, stressful nights over the past year, in a more relaxed setting. Even better, a few of the instructors who volunteered their time over the past year to teach us made the trip to Silver Spring to help us celebrate.

One of our classmates had the thoughtful idea to bring awards for everyone. Steve won “rig pig,” for responding to more injury accidents, or “wrecks,” than anyone else. I won “bionic patroller,” for having more body parts made of titanium than anyone else.

Earlier that day, I had a glorious, triumphant run-walk with a friend. At the time, it felt effortless and smooth. On Sunday morning, though, I woke up sore and swollen, which led to some serious self-pitying.

As I half-limped into the kitchen to make myself an espresso, I caught a glimpse of our two awards hanging from our corkboard. Imagining myself as some sort of gimpy superhero had two effects: I laughed at myself (always healthy!), and I realized that a gimpy superhero … is still a superhero.

Also motivating me this week:

The video of Heather Dorniden’s 600-meter dash in the Big 10 Indoor Track championship a couple years ago. Because the cheers are loudest after she falls, then picks herself back up again.

Everyone’s experiences at the National Marathon and National Half Marathon on Saturday. Reading about how all my running buddies tackled the early hills, cruised down the late flats and generally triumphed over physical and emotional hardships to make the race happen brings back good memories of my own experience at the National Half in 2009. Congrats to all finishers—you guys are amazing!

What’s motivating you this week?

In early February, I was licking my wounds and regrouping after my ACL reconstruction surgery, and I needed a playlist that took ownership of those wounds. I posted the Injured Reserve Playlist, and listened to songs geared toward the injured underdog as I coaxed my quad back to life and healed a badly bruised soul.

I’m still a long way from getting back to “normal,” and I’m still working my butt off in physical therapy to regain full function. But I’m starting to see real progress—yesterday, I did a run-walk to the post office during which I jogged for about 15 minutes! I could have gone faster had I walked, most likely, and today, I kind of have shin splints (yeah … the ones you get when you’ve never run before), but I felt a little bit like myself again. Here’s the playlist that will serve as the soundtrack to my comeback:

Mama Said Knock You Out – LL Cool J. I love this one for the very obvious opening lines: “Don’t call it a comeback/I’ve been here for years.”

How You Like Me Now – The Heavy. The title alone implies improvement and forward motion!

One week after my first run back after ACL surgery, my jubilation has faded to the reality that it’s going to take a looong time to get back to anything resembling normal running. I started with five minutes on the treadmill a week ago, confident that I would quickly, comfortably and safely add minutes. A week later, I’ve added one minute. One. Any more than that, and I’m scared the swelling and soreness I feel already will increase exponentially. And since my run-to-recovery ratio is roughly 1:30 (for every one minute of running during the day, I can count on 30 minutes of icing and elevating that night), that’s not something I’m interested in.

That said, I used this past week to formulate some goals—for my comeback and beyond.

For now:

Perform every exercise in PT to its fullest. This is the No. 1 thing I can do to get back to the life I want to lead, in which I run, ski, backpack and otherwise play outside with abandon.

Strengthen my VMO and hamstrings. Strengthening my VMO (the muscle that runs on the inside of the quad) and hamstrings will help me avoid another ACL tear. This is a very, very good thing.

Swim at least twice per week—preferably three. Gradually start adding one long swim per week, starting with a 5,000-yarder, to train for the 4.4-mile Great Chesapeake Bay Bridge Swim. I happily managed a 4,000-meter swim last week, and upped my two other “regular” swims to 3,500 yards. (Yards vs. meters depends on which pool I visit).

Stage a *smart* running comeback. Come back safely and slowly, starting with adult-supervised treadmill running in physical therapy and/or run-walks. I promise, promise, promise I will not add minutes or mileage until my current minutes or mileage feel fabulous.

Lift (outside of PT) at least once a week, using the assisted pull-up machine for 3X10 reps. Continue my pull-up training plan until I can do several at a time.

Try one new, in-season fruit or vegetable per week. When, and why, did I give up on this? In recent weeks, I’ve tried a sunshine squash and Jonagold apples from the farmer’s market.

Long-term:

Find my center of balance. During my one day of ski and toboggan training before a season-ending ACL tear, my fantastic instructors immediately identified two major areas for me to work on: I need to keep my upper body quiet while my legs do the work, and find my true center of balance on skis. Obviously, the fact that it looks like I’m trying to conduct a symphony orchestra with my ski poles while skiing bumps didn’t help with balance (ever try waving your hands wildly while balancing on the BOSU?). So every time I do a balance-related exercise in PT—squats on the wobble board, hurdles, etc.—I obsess about keeping my upper body quiet.

Master the single-leg squat. See above—once I find my center of balance, watch out!

Master the pull-up. Just because it bugs me that my shoulders are perfectly strong, but this simple exercise has always eluded me. See above.

Beat my previous leg-press record of 300 pounds. Men’s Health says being able to leg-press 2.25 times your body weight is a good measure of overall fitness. Since I’m I’m already back to doing reps at 300 pounds, I’d like to beat this benchmark.

Resume speed workouts with gusto to train for a 5K or 10K. A PR in either distance as a result would be nice. But I’m going for process goals here, and I’m going to start by simply promising myself to do one speed workout a week, once I’m able to.

Start performing plyometric exercises to develop agility and speed ahead of next ski season—and to ensure this doesn’t happen again. Female athletes are horribly susceptible to ACL tears. I’m determined to do everything I can to avoid being a statistic again. Check out this great profile of the Boulder Center for Sports Medicine’s “Girls Can Jump” program. Stay tuned for more on my invincible-ACL strength-training program …

What kind of goals are you working toward right now?

Whitetail has been closed for more than a week now, and I’m thrilled to be looking forward to the beginning of the next ski season rather than slogging through the remains of this past one, which saw my ski-patrol training postponed thanks to a wayward, ACL-tearing snowboarder. In a complete reversal of how I usually feel at the end of the ski season, I’ve been overwhelmed with relief and contentment since closing day—no more rubbing my own face in the goal I wanted so desperately to achieve!

Now that I’m no longer traveling up to the resort every Saturday and watching all my friends go play while I stay inside, I’m able to see my training, which I’ll resume in December, as a positive motivator rather than a weight on my shoulders. There’s one image that motivates me more than any other: That damn red coat, which signifies full patroller status, and which eluded me this season.

So great was my obsession with the red coat during the season, it once haunted my dreams. Literally. Steve had worked a shift at Whitetail, and got home after I’d gone to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, and happened to see his super-cool red vest (even better than the coat) hanging over a chair at the kitchen table. I barely slept again that night. The next day, at one of my physical therapy sessions, I flipped open an old issue of Real Simple to find an eerily fitting fashion spread about the supposed “color of the year,” titled “Seeing Red.” Unbelievable. But just like the ski season, I’m now seeing the red coat as a positive motivator rather than a visible symbol of my injury-spurred inability to live the life I want to. I picture it hanging in my closet when I grab my running shoes to go lift. I imagine myself wearing it while skiing the bumps when I do squats on the wobble board in physical therapy. Here’s what else I’m picturing while I’m working my way back to normalcy:

Skiing at Mount Hood this summer. The Oregon resort has snow year-round thanks to a huge glacier, and I have my eye on its adult mogul camp in late August. It costs $1,175 for the adults-only camp Aug. 28 to Sept. 3, and includes everything—room, board, even your ride from the airport!

Michelle Parker, a pro skier who wrote extensively about her own ACL reconstruction and ensuing therapy. She’s back at it now, skiing harder than ever, which reminds me that I will be, too. Also, she talks about stuff like “balancing your skier thighs out with lots of hamstring and V.M.O. (the muscle that runs on the inside of the quad) exercises.” In other words, this pro skier who hucks huge cliffs speaks my language.

The StairMaster. My first day in physical therapy, a high-school basketball player was finishing up on the StairMaster as I was getting ready to start it. She was muscular and fit-looking, and I imagine she’d kick butt on suicides. She audibly groaned in exhaustion as she got off the machine. I have not had a single experience to contradict hers. The StairMaster, when done on a high level, is SO HARD! I took my pulse (which is normally creepy-slow) after finishing the other day, and got 190 for my heart rate—supposedly my max at age 30.

The terrific chocolate-chip cookie-dough “blizzard” on Oh She Glows. One word: Yummmm.

Finally, my friend Alexis, who’s battling breast cancer. You can read her full story on her blog, Brave and Bubbly. Or you can trust me that she’s a brave and amazing woman who deserves your vote in a contest to be a bat girl for the Orioles May 8. As she says in her profile, she’s a rookie in the fight against breast cancer who’s confident she’ll dominate all nine of her “innings” (four rounds of chemo, five weeks of radiation). Click here, then look under “A” for Alexis to vote for her!

Alexis is one of my two best buddies from middle school. She’s in the middle.

What’s motivating you this week? When’s the last time you took a difficult situation and found motivation in it?

I’m all about the joy of exploration, whether it’s trying something new, rekindling a love for something old or simply pushing your boundaries and getting out of your comfort zone. Here’s how I’m planning to do all of the above this weekend:

I’m taking part in D.C. Fit Week by attending a Total Body Circuit class at Northwest Sport & Health Club in Tenleytown at 9 a.m. Tuesday. Click here to check out other free classes offered throughout the city next week.

I’m putting up my dukes. After two women were beaten and raped at the Bethesda store last weekend (full story here), I couldn’t decline an invitation to attend a a free Self Defense for Runners seminar at Lululemon Athletica Georgetown at 11 a.m. tomorrow. I’ll be sure to share any interesting tips I learn there.

I’m mixing up my running comeback. In the past, I’ve always started my running comebacks with several minutes straight of running on a treadmill, with a slow buildup in time and distance. That went OK on Wednesday (despite needing to ice my knee at least 30 minutes for each one minute I ran), but I think I’m going to try run-walking instead, per some advice I got while writing Tips to a successful running comeback for the January/February issue of Women’s Running. I’ll start by alternating five minutes of walking with one of running for 30 minutes. I’ll gradually increase the running until that’s all I’m doing.

I’m relishing the spoils of past explorations. Back in October, I wrote about how I busted out of my comfort zone with a kayaking-camping trip to Assateague Island, off Maryland’s Eastern Shore. My story about the trip, Rip & Go, Assateague Island’s Pine Tree Loop, is now live on Backpacker Magazine’s website—reading it makes me feel like I got to take the trip all over again!

How are you mixing it up this weekend?

I won’t bury the lede: Today, for the first time since I tore my ACL Jan. 8, I ran!

It was five minutes on the treadmill at 10-minute mile pace, but the euphoria I felt was closer to breaking the tape at the Boston Marathon. I listened to Muse’s cover of “Feeling Good” on my iPod for the whole half mile, and felt so grateful to be well enough and strong enough to run! I appreciated every footfall: each powerful heel strike, each joyous push-off.

It’s been almost 10 weeks since my ACL tear, and almost seven weeks since my ACL-reconstruction surgery. In other words, it had been a while, and ever since my doctor mentioned running around the six-week mark, I was eying today’s appointment eagerly.

After confirming that my ACL graft is “ka-thunking” properly, my doctor mentioned casually that I could run. It wasn’t 30 minutes before I was on the treadmill.

That wasn’t the only piece of good news today. I upped my single-leg-press weight to 100 pounds for my injured leg, and got cleared to do butterfly kick and to push off the wall while swimming (no more weird, middle-of-the-pool flipturns!). I also got a dismissive, “of course you can” hand wave when I asked about potentially running six-ish miles in a two-person half-marathon relay at the New Jersey Marathon in May.

I’m reminded, as I was after wrist surgery last year, of what Ernest Hemingway wrote in “The Sun Also Rises:” That a man goes broke “gradually, and then suddenly.” Though it’s been a long road back to anything resembling normalcy, every gradual baby step on that road led to one sudden, victorious run on the treadmill today.

I am equal parts triumphant and embarrassed today. Embarrassed because as a person with strong shoulders who took pride in beating all the boys at push-ups in high-school gym class, this is a goal I should have achieved long ago. Triumphant because yesterday, I did a pull-up!

I’ve been trying—OK, fine, *wanting*—to eke out a single pull-up for years. But last year, I realized it wasn’t just about shoulder strength, but also grip strength, of which I had none. So I got busy with my Black Diamond forearm trainer. That, plus my work on the assisted pull-up machine at the gym, paid off yesterday.

I was doing sets of six pull-ups with 10 pounds of assistance when I realized 10 pounds is really not a lot of assistance. So I tried one without assistance—and did it!

This is motivational for me because it proves something all endurance athletes know: If you pick a sensible training plan and put in the work to complete it, you can accomplish pretty much any athletic goal you set out to. It’s a timely reminder, too—I was in the gym yesterday because I still can’t run or ski or otherwise play outside. But I know that if I keep following my PT plan to strengthen and rehab my right leg, I’ll be there soon.

By the way, at six-plus weeks out, my PT lineup is actually worth sharing as a workout. I did a slightly revised version of this workout on my own at the gym yesterday, doubling my time on the StairMaster (SO HARD!) and using a leg-press machine that isolates each leg rather than doing straight-up single-leg presses.

Single-leg quad extensions – 40 pounds, 4 sets of 10 (it’s getting stronger!)

Single-leg hamstring curls – 35 pounds 4 sets of 10

Single-leg press – 90 pounds, 4 sets of 10 (or 210 pounds on the aforementioned machine that lets each leg work independently, but simultaneously)

Medicine-ball throw—at trampoline, while standing on right leg on wobbly thing- with 15 lb. medicine ball

Single-leg squat – 4X10

Squats on wobble board, placed diagonally – 4X10

Hurdles and side shuffle with machine – 5X, each way

Stairmaster – 15 minutes of intervals, at the highest level you can handle (again: SO HARD! I broke up my 30 minutes yesterday into two sessions)

Treadmill: walking backwards – 5 minutes

Stool scoot – two laps around room. I literally sit on a stool with wheels, and scoot myself around the room using the heel of my injured leg.

Calf raises – three directions – 2X15

Leg lifts – 11 pounds – all four directions

T.K.E.s I do these with a gray TheraBand to strengthen the V.M.O. muscle, which runs along the inside of the quad. My physical therapist says this is the first muscle to go and the last to come back in ACL rehab.

Of course, I supplemented all this with a healthy dose of core and upper-body stuff—including lots of pull-ups, some assisted, some not. Want to train yourself to be able to do one, too? Try Women’s Health 12-week plan, which starts with a flexed-arm hang and takes you through negative pull ups and mini pull-ups.

Today, I’m still patting myself on my (very sore!) back for my accomplishment. What accomplishments are motivating you this week?

Whitetail closes for the season on Sunday. For me, the last day of the season was last Saturday, as I’ll be out of town this weekend.

I had planned a long and reflective post about what I’ve learned this season, which consisted of hauling my gimpy butt around the mountain, and rubbing my own face in a goal I could no longer achieve (i.e., completing the ski-patrol training I started back in August, but could not complete because of an ACL tear, which came courtesy of a snowboarder). But I’m kind of bored with that. No matter how you spin it, it’s a little bit depressing and disappointing. Instead, I’m going to end the season briefly, with a pertinent quote and some fun photos.

This Ralph Waldo Emerson quote is sometimes the only thing that puts my anxious mind at ease before bedtime. Just substitute “ski season” for “day:”

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

And now, some photos, from Whitetail’s annual Heroes of the Hill ski race. Several four-person teams competed in the dual-elimination relay race. My candidate class put together a team, which included one candidate-to-be who was kind enough to take my place (each team must have one woman … making chicks on sticks a hot commodity the week before the race!).

Since our class motto is “Drop Your Drawers,”  the skiers raced in long underwear and boxers.

Look at Steve go!

Another classmate and I watched from the sidelines. When our team got on deck, we cheered our heads off, and dropped our drawers, too. Sweet Steve suggested that racers tie cravats around their right legs in a visible shout-out to my gimpy knee.

Pants-less group shot.

Our team didn’t win, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say we had the best costumes.

And now, by popular request, the story behind “drop your drawers:”

During a discussion about anaphylactic shock in our Outdoor Emergency Care class, a classmate asked for clarification about how to assist a guest in administering an EpiPen. Here’s how the discussion went down:

Instructor, simulating anaphylactic shock while standing in front of the class: Oh, no! I’ve been stung by a bee! Good thing I have my EpiPen! Now, what are you going to tell me to do?

Classmate, sitting in the front row: Pull down your pants.

The EpiPen *is* administered in the thigh, so it wasn’t necessarily bad advice. Still, the blunt command to “pull down your pants” became infamous in our class, morphing into “drop your drawers,” and leading to all of us standing on the side of a mountain in boxers in the middle of the winter.

Do you seek closure at the end of tough times? Or just finish each day (or season, or race, or whatever) and be done with it?

I love me some chili. I’ve posted recipes for turkey chili and chicken chili, and am currently head-over-heels in love with a new recipe for it: Black Bean Chili with Butternut Squash, courtesy of the terrific cooking blog The Bitten Word. The recipe comes from Bon Appétit‘s February feature on the “United States of Chili,” featuring recipes from California, Ohio, New Mexico and Texas.

This is a great way to enjoy the last of the local butternut squash at local farmers markets. But the peppers in adobo sauce and the black beans also give it a bit of a Caribbean flair, making it appropriate for the transition to spring. I simplified it a bit, leaving out the bulgur and using canned black beans. The results are below:

Check out The Bitten Word's photo to see how appetizing this *actually* looks!

Amy’s Easy Black Bean Chili with Butternut Squash

• 8 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1 2 1/4-pound butternut squash, peeled, seeded, cut into 1/2-inch cubes (about 3 cups)
• 4 cups reduced sodium chicken broth
• 2 1/2 tablespoons chili powder
• 1 tablespoon ground coriander
• 2 14.5-ounce cans fire-roasted tomatoes
• 1 can black beans, rinsed
• 2 canned chipotle chiles in adobo, minced
• 2 teaspoons dried oregano (preferably Mexican)

Saute garlic and butternut squash in a bit of olive oil. Add spices, then chicken broth. Bring to a boil, then lower heat. Add beans, tomatoes and diced peppers. Simmer until you’re too hungry to wait any longer. Serve with your favorite chili toppings: Mine are cornbread, sour cream, cheese, cilantro, honey and hot sauce.

Just to mix things up, I made my second batch using sunshine squash, a variety of Kabocha squash found at the Takoma Park Farmers Market last week. It’s part of my long-forgotten goal to try one new in-season vegetable per week. The only problem with the switch: The two squashes taste so similar, smooth and sweet, I couldn’t tell the difference!