Running Like a Girl

by Alexandra Heminsley

  We turned in to Golden Gate Park at mile eleven, and I looked around at the natural beauty, stunned that I had made it here, that I was allowed to run this course. We passed waterfalls, unfamiliar tree types, and even a few buffalo in a field. After a few more loops, we came to the bay again. There were waves lapping on the beach at the side of the highway. The sea looked so infinite, so inspiring.

  As the miles passed, I began to feel the ache of the distance I had run, and I started to feel drained by the effort. The flight, the homesickness, and the miles yet to come all seemed to be rushing at me. A wooziness came over me, and I gripped my phone tighter, willing some more messages to make their way to me. Again I felt far away from home and desperately lonely. But I kept going, one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other, keeping time with the waves. My energy was ebbing with the tide, and slowly, slowly, I felt myself lapse into a walk.

  “No, darling, no!” said a voice to my right. I turned and saw a small, wiry woman, maybe twenty years older, smiling at me.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “You don’t walk, darling!”

  “I don’t think I can go on. I just feel so tired.”

  “No, darling, keep going, I’m with you.” She had a strong South American accent. I asked her where she was from.

  “El Salvador, darling, but I run all over the world.”

  “Wow, really? This is the first time I’ve run abroad. How many marathons have you done?”

  “Fifty! All over the world! I love to run.”

  Her smile seemed as broad as the beach itself. Yet I felt horrendous. I thought perhaps I was going to be sick, as water started to course down the inside of my mouth in a way I had previously experienced only after a teenage night of too much cider.

  “Come on, darling, it’s less than two miles. We’re going to do it. You and me. You are so special. What’s your name?”

  “Alexandra.”

  “Alexandra! Like Alexandra the Great! You are so special, keep going, keep going.”

  I was swallowing hard, trying to keep myself from being sick. I seemed to be seeing things in black and white as my vision blurred. Was this hitting the Wall? Wasn’t that meant to be earlier in a race? Why was I . . . so . . . very . . . tired?

  My eyes opened with a start as I felt her grip my hand.

  “We are nearly there, Alexandra! Look at the colors! Let’s keep looking at the colors. Look at the yellow shorts. Can you see the bright yellow? Wonderful! Oooooh my! Look at her socks! Pink kneesocks, well I never! See the sky, Alexandra, see how blue the sky is now. Keep going, keep going.”

  And so she continued, holding my hand, coaxing me on like a child. I looked at the colors. I loved her. I wanted to be home.

  “Look, Alexandra! We are nearly at the end! There will be firemen there. And necklaces. You are going to make it. You are so wonderful, such a special girl. Look at the colors, keep your legs steady, here we are.”

  I saw the balloons that marked the finish line, and I stared until I reached them, propelling myself forward with force of will alone. It seemed that someone had kicked me behind the knees. As the balloons grew closer, my relief was so intense that I could barely keep myself upright.

  “Thank you so much thank you so much thank you so much,” I sobbed, squeezing her hand. Finally, we crossed the line, holding hands above our heads. I collapsed into the arms of one of the tuxedo-clad firemen standing there and accepted the Tiffany’s box he handed me on a silver platter. My marathon prize was not a medal this time but a necklace. I grabbed my friend and some of the others I had finished alongside, and I wept.

  Sitting in the departure lounge at the airport the next day, I felt my phone ping, announcing an e-mail. I recognized the name in my in-box, but in my exhaustion, I couldn’t quite place it: Kathrine Switzer. I opened the message, and only as I read it through the second time did I realize who it was from. Another of my marathon heroes, this time congratulating me on my marathon time. I had written to her months before to request an interview, and only now had she gotten the chance to reply. As a fellow runner, she knew how much it would mean to me to look up my time and congratulate me. My disappointment at a speed no faster than my Brighton marathon result turned to pride.

  I felt a surge of new awareness: I was a runner for life. No matter what else was going on around me, no matter how long the gaps between my runs, no matter how high, how long, or how fast my races were, I was a runner. Once you have taught yourself that running isn’t about breaking boundaries you thought you could never smash, and realized that it is about discovering those boundaries were never there in the first place, you can apply it to anything.

  I sat in my seat on the plane, gazing out the window at the bay below, and put my hand up to touch my necklace medal. Was that the Golden Gate Bridge we were flying over? I stared, hoping, until we were above the ocean. I flicked through some notes and found a quote I had scribbled down. It was Julia Chase-Brand talking about her famous road race, the only woman among a sea of men: “Finishing that race was a defining moment for me. If I could handle that pressure, I realized I could go ahead and live my life as I wanted. I could do anything.”

  All of my races, my quiet solitary runs, my ridiculous rainy ones with friends, they all involved shifting a bit of blood around and getting my legs to take me from one place to the next. They had also been about so much more: the shame overcome, the courage discovered, and the exhilaration reached. Running had made my heart bigger, but only now did I understand in how many ways.

  PART TWO

  That was my story, and this part shall be about making it yours. Here are the answers to the queries I tormented myself with while I learned to run, as well as some extra ones I have been asked over the years. I was lucky to have my father for advice, but there were some questions he just couldn’t deal with. I have been that woman typing “What happens when you run with big boobs?” into the search bar in the dead of night, and I have spent more hours than I care to count in running shops and at event expos, trying to work out what certain pieces of gear are for. Here is what I have found on my adventures.

  Running style, fear of injury, and mystifying gear: It’s all here. There is only one thing I could not find a solution to, and that is getting your period on the day of a big event. In running, as in life, sometimes it just happens—it’s down to you to get on with it. Lots of tampons, lots of painkillers, and the certainty that those post-race carbs will taste even better are yours for the taking. Keep your head high and run like a girl.

  12

  Head over Heels

  Listen to your body. Do not be a blind and deaf tenant.

  —Dr. George Sheehan

  Those who don’t have the guts to admit that they don’t fancy running often enjoy telling runners about the damage they’re doing to their bodies.

  Those who have a loved one who runs often worry about them being safe and well.

  Those who run often let their imaginations run away with them when in pain.

  Rumor and schoolgirlish whispers can create horrific anxieties about what is going on in your body when you are in pain. Sometimes you just want to be reassured that you are not being neurotic for seeking help about a physical sensation that is entirely natural. Sometimes you need to be told that you’re not being idiotic for ignoring a potentially dangerous problem. It is difficult to tell what is a niggle or a natural development in your body and what is a real issue. Crippling pain can just as often be the result of panic, or simply needing a stretch, as it can be a lasting injury.

  I spoke with Anna Barnsley, a physical therapist who has worked with runners and professional rugby players. She has also taught other physios and continues to run her own practice while following all of the latest research in her field. We did our best to get to the bottom of the top ten running myths. She is not only a hugely experienced physiotherapist and a fascinating coffee date but also a very patient woman who remained unfazed by my scrappy list of
questions and medical vocabulary that wouldn’t put a six-year-old to shame.

  The single most important thing she taught me is that pain and your state of mind are intricately linked: Pain does not come from your tissues but from your brain. This does not mean that pain does not exist, because we have all felt it, but it is important to remember that it is produced in the mind. Anna explained that it’s the brain’s decision to create pain each and every time something painful occurs, and that decision is based on perceived threat. The threat can be compounded by all sorts of other stresses, creating the vicious cycle of leaving the house for a run in terror of feeling pain and thereby creating pain.

  The Truth Behind the Top Ten Running Myths

  1) Running will destroy your knees.

  I don’t run because I want to be able to bend over when I’m eighty.

  Every runner has been told this by some smug twerp who doesn’t have the balls to admit that he prefers watching the E! channel or playing Grand Theft Auto. These are both admirable pursuits, but don’t pretend you chose them because of knee pain.

  Each and every one of us will get wear and tear on our knees whatever we do in life. Some people will get more than others because of their individual biomechanics and some because of their lifestyles. We’re all made differently, but we also use ourselves differently. Injuries will rarely be on account of one or the other; they will almost always be a combination of what we’re born with and what we do with that. There will always be exceptions to this rule and those with serious injuries that rule out running. But running is not a hobby that ruins knees. In fact, it’s often one that alerts us to more serious problems with our biomechanics and gives us the chance to deal with them before we’re hobbling for good. For example, if I had never run, I never would have known about the problems I was carrying around in my pelvis, and I would have come a cropper later in life. I still dread to think what my pain level would have been had I gotten pregnant before the problem was rectified and I’d had something heavy to carry around in a pelvis that was in the wrong place. For the sensible recreational runner, there should be no significant problems. For a further look at knees, see the section on iliotibial band pain on page 166.

  2) The high impact of running will give you a saggy face and a saggy behind.

  Someone who runs a well-respected beauty salon asked me to find out if this is the case, as so many of her customers say they won’t run because they dread getting a saggy face. Women regularly tell me statistics with great confidence: Running creates “twelve times normal gravity” on your face, as though the skin’s elasticity is bouncing around like a pair of unsupported boobs. I don’t know how this could be measured or what it means and neither did any doctor or expert I asked.

  What I do know is that there is a level of what is called “oxidative stress” created through exercise. Oxidative stress is the production of free radicals in the body as a result of exercise, which can cause some damage to the skin’s elastic fibers. But all of the other advantages that running provides—improving circulation, getting fresh air, reducing stress—boost your defense against free radicals, which easily counteracts that. The argument that oxidative stress ages runners is usually made by the kind of woman who tells you sternly, cigarette in hand, that you should eat only organic chicken, as factory-farmed is so full of chemicals. The single greatest threat to any runner’s face or skin will always be sun damage. Sunscreen is the answer, not giving up running.

  As for the saggy behind—it’s bullshit. Running, especially up hills, is pretty much the best thing you can do to have a great bum. Even more so if you’re supporting your training with some squats. People who tell you otherwise need to stop talking out of theirs.

  3) Running will make you look like a man.

  The debate about what is or isn’t “ladylike” or “manly” is touchy and subjective. What one of us finds deliciously toned, another finds threateningly strong, and where some see femininity, others see weakness.

  Assuming that people mean “very muscly” when they say “manly,” rest assured that there is nothing specific to running that does this to you. Running is largely an endurance sport, which will build up your slow-twitch (or white) muscle fibers. Our muscles are composed of both slow- and fast-twitch muscle fibers: The former allow our muscles to take on energy on the move and convert it to motion; the fast-twitch (or red) fibers allow us to store power when we are at rest and put it into action in an instant.

  Slow-twitch muscle fibers do not enlarge the muscles, as can be seen from the physique of Paula Radcliffe or Mo Farah. Fast-twitch muscle fibers do visibly enlarge the muscles, which is why a sprinter like Usain Bolt looks so much bulkier than a middle- or long-distance runner. Genetically, sprinters tend to be born with a larger number of fast-twitch muscle fibers, which is why those runners incline toward that discipline; likewise, long-distance runners in reverse.

  Ideally, a recreational runner wants to develop both types of muscle fibers. Running hills and interval training are as essential to preparing for a marathon as completing the long runs. Interval training is the practice of repeatedly running shorter distances much faster than usual, with gaps for recovery in between. It is essential for improving cardiovascular fitness and breaking up the repetition of the long runs. The fartlek, which means “speed play” in Swedish, is interval training’s more relaxed sibling, and it involves running fast bursts within the same run, rather than the more formal stop-start intervals. Integrating fartleks into your training routine will give you the instant power to accelerate through a low patch.

  The bottom line is that taking up running won’t turn you into Rocky. And even if it did, that would be your choice.

  4) Running will make your boobs sag.

  As discussed in the chapter on sports gear, running can indeed stretch the ligaments supporting your boobs, especially if you’ve got larger ones.

  A bit of jiggling is okay and entirely normal. While a horribly restrictive, too small bra could affect your breathing, the swinging figure-of-eight motion made by a truly unharnessed pair of boobs is not ideal.

  The solution is simple: If your boobs can’t move around too much when you’re running, they can’t get stretched too much. There are amazing sports bras out there. Get involved.

  5) Running makes your knees sound and feel like crisp packets.

  It is a common sensation to hear or feel a slightly unnerving crunch or clicking noise in the knees on squatting or rising from a squat. This is called “crepitus.” Despite sounding alarmingly close to “decrepit,” it is not particularly dangerous. It usually originates from the patella-femoral joint, which is the interface between the kneecap and the trochlear groove of the femur, or thigh bone, which the kneecap glides along when you bend and straighten the knee.

  If crepitus occurs without pain—which it does more often than not—then it is absolutely nothing to worry about. It is not something that will get worse over time, nor is it something specific to running.

  However, if you are running a lot and it starts to become associated with pain, you should get it looked at. It could be your kneecap dragging on your femur and causing a bit of grinding, or it could mean that the cartilage at the back of the kneecap is wearing out. These are conditions that need to be treated by a professional.

  The problem is often a biomechanical issue in which the kneecap is being dragged out to the side by structures on the outer thigh and lateral quadriceps—the latter can often become enlarged by exercise, which in turn causes rubbing that wears at the cartilage.

  The noise does say “Danger!’ ” very loudly in one’s brain, making it hard to ignore, but the situation is not usually as bad as it sounds.

  6) Running’s type of cardiovascular exercise is no good for weight loss.

  The fat-burning zone that equipment in fancy gyms or swishy personal trainers refer to is any period of exercise when your heart is working at 60 to 70 percent of its maximum rate. This is probably what you feel lik
e on a slow run, the sort of jog where you might admire the leaves on a tree or the bottom of someone running ahead of you. This pace indeed burns more fat than when you are exercising at a more intense rate. However, a slightly higher heart rate uses up far more calories, which is most important for weight loss.

  So while there is some truth in the suggestion that running does not always work your body within the fat-burning zone, that does not mean it is no good for weight loss. Far from it.

  7) Running makes you wee blood.

  The kind of fuss I would make if I saw blood in my urine doesn’t bear thinking about, so the fact that some long-distance runners see it as normal rather frightens me.

  Seeing blood in your urine is not normal. It is not entirely uncommon in extreme athletes, but for the rest of us, it is indicative of a problem, not a nice blast of hard work.

  If you pee blood after a long run, you need to make a doctor’s appointment to check out your kidneys immediately. It is not known why blood is sometimes seen in urine after extreme exercise—the current thinking is that it might be to do with the way red blood cells break away during the exercise—but in an average runner, it is more likely to indicate kidney problems, dehydration, or overuse of painkillers, which are harsh on the stomach and kidneys.

  Running does not do this to you as a matter of course, and it should never be ignored.

  8) Running makes your wee smell of ammonia.

  Running—or any extreme exercise—can make your wee smell of ammonia. But it shouldn’t. If you get a whiff of that distinctive smell when you go to the bathroom, it means that you are carbohydrate-deficient and need to look at your diet. The smell is caused by the breakdown of muscle protein and is a result of running without enough of the right kind of fuel.