Week Four Post-Op

 

After 3 weeks and 1 day, I was officially given the approval to wean off the crutches from PT.  They told me I could go down to one crutch for a few days and then to no crutches, but I wound up skipping the one crutch phase.  I tried it for a few hours around the house and it just felt awkward.  I felt better just slowly walking normally, so that's what I did.  PT had me doing "gait training" where I would walk backwards, side step, and make sure that I was walking without a limp.  They told me to take my crutches with me outside or if I went anywhere such as the store.  I was comfortable walking in the house, but being out in the world without the crutches felt like too much too soon, so I was happy to follow that advice.  I continued going for my crutch walks this week, but I was getting a cold and feeling a little run down, so I only "walked" 3 days for approximately 5 miles.

On my second full day off crutches I walked normally around the house, drove myself home to get my mail, did some laundry at home, and then at the end of the day that big tendon that runs down the inside of my leg was little sore.  I used The Stick on it and that felt good.  The joint itself felt fine, but tendonitis is supposedly a common side effect from this surgery, so I'm trying to be really aware of that and stop and take care of small issues before they become big problems.  I was just so happy to be able to carry my own coffee cup (or beer!) around the house again.  

 

You have to treat yourself to good beer during recovery!

 

On Saturday it was so nice outside and my walking felt that it was progressing well enough indoors to go for a VERY short jaunt outside without the crutches.  It was probably not much more than 1/10 of a mile.  It was slightly scary and my leg felt clunky and heavy, but I walked about 4 houses down the street and then back.  (Normal suburbia type neighborhood.)  It didn't hurt, but I wasn't trying to push anything.  I was walking very slowly at this point.  I just couldn't move very quickly and I had to concentrate on each footstep.  The dog and I had a good time sitting on the deck in the sunshine later that day after my big outing.  

It's a hard life.

This week was the first week I was able to put my own socks on.  I would sit low (think toilet) and take the foot of my operated leg and place it near the opposite leg's knee. It was still a bit of a struggle, but I was able to do it.  It was easier for someone else to tie my shoe on that foot, but I could have done it if needed.  Every day seemed a little easier and every day I woke up with slightly more range of motion and less pain than before.  If I moved in a weird way or twisted wrong, I would get a little jolt of pain, but over all I didn't have pain in my daily motions.

Since I was told I had no sleeping restrictions, I very carefully rolled over to my operated side one morning to test the waters.  I probably laid there for 10-15 minutes.  It felt weird, but not painful.  Kind of like Princess and the Pea.  I could feel something was off, but it was very slight.  I was still taking my good leg and hooking it underneath my operated leg to get into bed every night, since I didn't want to stress my hip flexors too much. 

Week Three Post-Op

The beginning of week 3 felt pretty similar to last week.  I still couldn't walk, I still couldn't put on my own socks/shoes, and I was still spending most of my time in the recliner on the laptop or watching Netflix.  I could, however, crutch walk.  So crutch walk I did.

Monday: 1.3 miles
Tuesday: 1.5 miles
Wednesday: Rest
Thursday: 1.8 miles

Friday: 2.1 miles
Saturday: 1.3 miles

Sunday: 1.3 miles

Apparently it's a little weird to most people that I was going for "walks" on crutches.  A FedEx truck honked at me, lots of people initiated conversations from their yards, kids stopped and stared, and one guy in a car even slowed down to tell me that I was "ambitious."  But I am happiest when I am outside, so I was glad to be out there.  My wrists did get a little sore toward the end of the week though.  And I was building up plenty of arm muscle!

I don't remember any big accomplishments this week, but every day I still felt a little stronger, moved a little easier, and had less trouble doing every day things.  I read that a lot of people seem to hit the doldrums during this phase in recovery, but I felt okay.  I just kept getting outside and trying to keep myself occupied.  With my dad's help, I baked cookies one night.  Toward the end of the week, I remember cheating on my crutches a little and taking a step or two in the kitchen without them.  I was feeling ready to be off them, especially since at PT I was able to comfortably balance on my op leg.  PT exercises that week included the same as the previous week, but adding in more weight shifting plus bridges. 

Week Two Post-Op

I started PT this week at 8 days post-op.  I scheduled my appointment with the same PT who I had worked with pre-surgery, hoping that her knowledge of knowing me beforehand and seeing my struggles would be helpful.  The first session was pretty uneventful.  I told the story of how I wound up making the decision to have surgery and we did some light range of motion exercises as well as more glute and quad tightening.  I also laid on my back and did heel slides.  The ROM exercises included log rolls and laying on my stomach with my knee bent at 90 degrees and slowly swinging my foot outward and then inward like a pendulum.  My dad would help me with this exercise at home.  Even though it had only been a week, she had me doing some weight shifting too, to start loading my operated leg.  She had me stand on it full weight bearing once, but that was kind of scary even though it didn't cause any pain.

This was the week I started going on short crutch walks around my neighborhood.  The weather was finally starting to get warmer and the snow was melting, so I was happy to get outside.  I started out by crutching down the street and back.  Then around around block.  Then a little longer than around the block.  My energy was starting to come back and I was anxious to do something.  I'm not very good at sitting for long periods of time; probably part of the reason why I run so much.  I crutch walked 3 days this week for a grand total of 2 miles.

At day 10, I went for my first follow up appointment.  Turns out my surgeon was on vacation that week, so I would just see his PA.  The PA said I looked good and took out my stitches.  This didn't hurt at all; I could hardly even feel it happening.  I asked about transitioning off crutches and he told me that even if I was feeling good that I needed to stay on them to protect all the work that was done in there.  It was a pretty quick appointment, as Dr. Keene wasn't there to go over everything with me.  I would see him at 6 weeks post-op for all the details. 

I started sleeping better as I got more comfortable sleeping on my side.  My lower back pain also started to go away this week, since I was moving around more and sleeping in a more natural position for me.  I was still biking with no resistance with no issues at all.  I still wasn't holding onto the handlebars, but just sitting straight up and biking.  I felt that pinching sensation when I leaned forward, so I figured the handlebars would come with time.

One of my friends came to take me out to dinner and get me out of the house one night.  It felt good to go somewhere and to be out in public.  I was a little worried about sitting on a hard restaurant chair for so long, but it turned out to be okay.  I was a little achy toward the end, but over all it didn't really hurt.  Having a beer didn't hurt either!

First Week Post-Op

Surprisingly, the first few days were easier than I expected.  I was prescribed narcotics and a hefty dose of ibuprofen, but I stopped the narcotics after just 2 days, with essentially no pain transitioning to just the ibuprofen.  (Dr. Keene prescribes the ibuprofen not just for pain, but as a precaution to stop the bone from growing back.  I had to take 2400mg a day for two weeks.)  Going to the bathroom was still challenging, mostly due to the stiffness of my bandages and not being able to bend my leg much.  I was also stuck in compression stockings on both of my legs for a few days. 

Being on crutches was annoying, but not as terrible as it could have been, as I was allowed to be partial weight bearing on my operated leg.  My paperwork said that I would be on crutches for 2-3 weeks. 

I had a few simple PT exercises to do at home for the first week by myself.  Things like ankle pumps and tightening my glutes and quads.  I wouldn't start formal PT until 8 days post-op.  I had read that Dr. Philippon had his patients on the bike with no resistance less than 24 hours after surgery, so that was my plan.  If one of the best hip surgeons in the country had his patients doing it, I'll be damned if I wasn't going to do it too.  My parents were skeptical, but Dr. Keene gave me the okay, so they helped me up on the bike.  I had the option of my mountain bike on a trainer or the stationary bike downstairs.  I chose my normal bike on the trainer.  I definitely needed someone to help me as well as a small stool to get on for a while. My first time was awkward and very difficult to get my operated leg all the way around.  I was very hesitant and doing a full rotation was comically slow.  A good tip is to raise the bike seat as high as possible and don't reach for the handle bars at all.  I held onto the wall next to me for the first few days.  Days one and two I didn't do much spinning; I just oh-so-slowly rotated my leg with the help of the pedals.  Then on the 3rd or 4th day, I could magically pedal like normal (still holding onto the wall.)  Then I really felt like I was getting some good range of motion work in.  Once the bike felt more comfortable, I transitioned to three 10 minute sessions a day.

I spent most of my first week alternating between sitting in my recliner and laying on my stomach on my bed (which you are supposed to do to gently stretch your hip flexors.)  When I was in the recliner, I tried to remember to turn my ice machine on.  I had no swelling that I was aware of.  I think the ice and elevated legs helped with that.  After a few days of sleeping on my back and spending most of my time sitting/laying, my lower back got very achy and painful.  I didn't have any hip pain, but my back acted up for the first week or two.  It didn't start to feel better until I started sleeping on my side and getting up and around more.  I think it was around day 5 or 6 when I started rolling over very carefully to my non-op side with a pillow between my legs to sleep.  I was told I had no sleeping restrictions, but it still made me a little nervous since so many other surgeons make their patients sleep on their backs in these crazy feet booties for up to two weeks.

I took my first shower 3 days post-op and it was utterly exhausting.  I felt more drained afterward than if I had gone for a 20 mile run.  My mom had to help me take off my layers of bandages and then tape me up with Glad Press and Seal over my incisions.  Getting in and out of the tub was challenging as well.  The easiest way I found to take a shower in a standard bathtub was this: Put a stool in the bathroom right next to the tub.  Sit on the stool and have someone help you swing your legs around into the tub.  Stand, shower, use the stool for support to turn around, etc.  When getting out, stay standing in the tub and put the stool outside of the tub.  Sit on the stool and have someone help you swing your legs out of the tub.  Now if you have a nice walk in shower, then you're luckier than me! 

My big outings during my first week were crutching down the street and back for a "walk" and my dad driving me home to my house to get my mail.  It felt so good to go for a drive in the car after being stuck in the house for days!

Excuse me, I believe you stole my spot.

My parents were in charge of walking my dog.

Happy Hip Arthroscopy Day!

Despite the horrendously cold and long winter, surgery day approached before I knew it.  I was not a surgery virgin, so I wasn't nervous about going under/general anesthesia or the whole surgery process.  People kept asking me if I was nervous, and my reply was always, "I'm not nervous for the surgery itself; I'm nervous about the long recovery!"  It was an outpatient procedure and I was happy not to have to spend the night in the hospital this time.  My surgery was scheduled for 7:30am (first of the day), and we were instructed to arrival at the hospital at 6am.  My mom was going to be with me for the day and I was going to temporarily live with my parents post-surgery while I recovered.

We were taken back to what would be my room for the day.  I was instructed to take off everything and put on a gown and robe.  The anesthesiologist was the first person to arrive and we chatted for a few minutes.  I let her know that it was not uncommon for my resting heart rate to get into the low 40s.  We also discussed how I had gotten nauseous after my previous surgery and this time around I was given a small patch to put behind my ear, which ended up being a great idea.  I had no nausea at any point. 

Dr. Keene came in shortly afterward and signed his name on the hip he would be operating on.  A nurse came in and started my IV and then it was basically just a waiting game.  Finally we were ready to go, and I said goodbye to my mom and they wheeled me away.  I remember being wheeled away and getting moved from the bed to the operating table, but after that it was lights out and magically I was waking up hours later in recovery.

Upon waking, the pain wasn't bad.  I think I rated it as a 4.  They wheeled me back to my room and my mom was there.  I was given my phone and able to update facebook and reply to some text messages and let my boyfriend and others that I was indeed still alive.  At some point the anesthesiologist came back to check on me and informed me that my heart rate did get down to 42 during surgery.  I'm glad I warned her!  I had great nurses during this time who were very sweet and attentive.  I was given a slushie (melted popsicle and sprite mixed together) and animal crackers.

Dr. Keene came in a while later to give us the updates on surgery.  He shaved down part of my femur, shaved down part of the hip socket, cut away a small part of my labrum and stitched up the rest of the labrum with one anchor.  My labrum had been torn from about 12 o'clock - 2, which is one of the most common places for it to tear.  He told me that my cartilage was bubbled and irritated from where the femur had been hitting it, but that there were no signs of arthritis and that was he optimistic about my recovery.  I did not have any microfracture done and he did not need to release my psoas.  All in all, pretty much what I expected. 

Since this surgery is outpatient, they want you to try and get up and get moving fairly early so you can go home.  I had to go to the bathroom, so they encouraged me to use the crutches to get myself to the bathroom about 20 feet away.  I tend to be an easily fainting person and have been known to get light headed from next to nothing.  Well, I made it to the bathroom, but I got extremely dizzy when I got there and had to sit on the toilet with about 3 nurses putting cold compresses on my head and neck while I rested.  Instead of having me crutch back, they sat me in a wheelchair and wheeled me the short distance back to my room.  They took my blood pressure and it was 90/55.  Oops.  Way too early to be getting up.  I drank more soda and ate more animals crackers while I rested and they pumped me full of bags of fluid.  When I got up the next time an hour or two later, I was able to successfully get to the bathroom and back.

Being able to support myself on crutches without fainting meant it was time to go home!  I would say we were probably home by 4pm, as my parents don't live too far from the hospital. I don't quite remember what I did that evening, but it probably involved sitting in the recliner with a laptop.  I was able to go to the bathroom by myself, but it was a bit of a struggle.  My hip was quite bandaged up, as well as having the pad to my ice machine underneath all the bandages, and it made me quite bulky.  The ice machine was pretty neat.  It looked like a cooler with a tube attached to a big pad.  You filled the cooler part up with ice and water and plugged it in and cold water would circulate into the pad that was wrapped around my hip.  It felt amazing. 

That night I was able to sleep in a bed.  The easiest way to get into the bed was taking my non-operated leg and hooking it underneath my operated leg and using my "good" leg to lift my lower half onto the bed.  I laid on my back and stuffed pillows underneath my knees and on my sides and slept fairly well like that.  (Probably thanks to the drugs more than anything.)

The Mystery Injury Solved: Labral Tear and FAI

My pain first started in June 2012, at around mile 15 of a 100K trail race.  It was a very dull ache in my left groin that was mild, but nagging and annoying.  I don't think the distance had anything to do with bringing on the pain; I think it was just a coincidence.  Had I not run that 100K, I think the pain would have started during a routine run later that summer, but luck has it that it started for me at the beginning of a day I was going to run for 17 hours.  I had run a 50K just three weeks before with no issues and about a month before that had finished a 50 mile race feeling great.  So while it would be easy to blame the distance, I honestly believe it was just strange timing.  The 100K was my big race of the summer, and I finished it, despite running for the next 47 miles with an ache in my groin that would turn out to never leave.

Later that summer I took time off, hoping rest would be the cure for this annoying ache in my groin.  It was probably 4-6 weeks of very reduced activity and I started to feel better, so I resumed running in August.  I was scheduled to pace a friend at her 100 miler in September and needed to get my mileage back up.  I don't have a whole lot of memories from that time, but I must have felt a little better because I continued to run.  I ended up pacing for approximately 12 hours for my friend, but I popped ibuprofen a few times during that run to quiet the ache in my groin and I stopped earlier than I wanted because of the pain. In October I ran a 50K, paced at 24 hour race over night, and finally ran a half marathon the first weekend in November.  The half marathon was ugly and painful.  I knew it was going to be my last run for a long time.  I limped for a few weeks after that race.  For the next 4 months, I would not run at all.

I finally broke down and saw my doctor in December 2012.  She sent me for X-Rays of my pelvis area and referred me to sports medicine.  At the time, I was told my X-rays looked "normal."  When I saw the sports med doc, he was concerned I had a femoral neck stress fracture and ordered a regular MRI and gave me a pair of crutches to use until we got the results from the MRI.  I did not feel I had a stress fracture (no symptoms, no acute pain) and specifically asked for the MRI with contrast dye to check for a labral tear.  He told me the contrast dye MRI wasn't necessary and to use the crutches in the meantime.  I threw the crutches in the trunk of my car and didn't touch them.  A few days later I had the results of my MRI -- no stress fracture.  He told me it looked normal and gave me a diagnosis of tendonitis and shipped me off to PT.  I tried PT from January 2013 - April 2013 with absolutely no results.  They had me doing a lot of glute strengthening with the theraband.  Despite 4 months of rest and PT, my pain levels had hardly changed.

The one thing that actually did help was finding a sports minded chiropractor.  In late February I started seeing him and having both Active Release Therapy (ART) and Graston done.  These sessions were pretty damn painful, but I did finally get some relief.  Looking back now, I think he manipulated so much soft tissue around my joint, that it was able to move smoother.  Unfortunately, these gains were short lived.  I had maybe a month of hope and some mostly pain free shorter runs before the pain came back.  In June of 2013, a year after my initial pain started, I had a run so terrible that I wound crying from the pain and took the shortest way home possible.  I gave up.  I was tired of going to the doctor, to PT, to the chiro and running around town going to all these appointments and paying co-pays and fees, etc.  I decided I would stop trying to run and just bike over the summer and give myself a break and go back to the doctor in the fall.  I was convinced there was something seriously wrong with me.

That summer I started bike commuting to work, dropped my injury weight, and felt stronger.  But biking isn't really my thing and I wanted to run.  Whenever I ran, I still had the same pain.  Some days were better than others, but it just never went away. I went back to sports medicine in November and saw a different doctor.  He ordered the right MRI (MRA) and I was finally diagnosed with a torn labrum in my hip and femoral acetabular impingement (FAI.)  In simple terms, FAI is when you have too much bone on your femur and/or hip socket and the extra bone starts damaging your cartilage in the joint.  When all of the conservative treatments fail (and for most people they do), the only options left are surgery or nothing.  Here is a better explanation: http://orthoinfo.aaos.org/topic.cfm?topic=A00571

I scheduled surgery for March 3, 2014, due to conflicts with my work schedule and not wanting to be on crutches through the worst of winter.  My surgeon would be Dr. James Keene in Madison, Wisconsin. From all the research I did about this, I learned that surgeon selection is very important. You don't want just any ol' ortho to operate; you want someone who deals specifically with hips and has a large number of these under their belt.  Dr. Keene studied with Dr. Byrd of Nashville (one of the pioneer surgeons behind hip arthroscopy) and has preformed over 1000 of these surgeries.  After meeting with him, I was very comfortable with him and trusted him and his expertise. 

I will try my best to continue to blog through this process and detail my return to running ultras.  There's not a lot of good information out there on this surgery as it's still fairly new, so I hope to record my return and help others who have suffered through this as well. 

Glacial Trail 50K Race Report 2012

Sunday, October 14, 2012
Greenbush, WI

I wasn't even going to write a report for this race; this was just supposed to be a fun run where I limped to a slow 50K personal worst. Not only did I have no training cycle for this race, but I spent the majority of the summer sitting on my ass while injured.  Throw in some of the toughest trail in Wisconsin and I was going to be happy enough just to finish.

The Glacial Trail 50 races (50K and 50M) are held on the Ice Age Trail through the Northern Kettle Moraine State Forest.  It's a simple out and back course.  It's a bit of a hilly beast: 5,500 feet of elevation gain in the form of constant shorter hills.  Couple the constant hills with constant rocks that litter the trail, but you can't see because they're covered in a blanket of leaves and you've got yourself some fun.  I ran this same race in 2011 and it was ugly.  I stumbled through the last 5 miles last year like a drunkard at a slow walk and finished in dismay.  I just didn't want a repeat of that.

Elevation profile for the first 15.5 miles.  Turn around and do it over again.

Race morning was early.  I left my house at 4am to make the 2 hour drive North.  The forecast was pretty simple.  In the words of Ollie Williams from Family Guy: IT'S GON' RAIN! 

I found my friend Dan in the huge crowd of a 132 and we lined up on a street in the town of Greenbush, WI (population unincorporated.)  It was sprinkling as we started.  Just a half mile jaunt on the road until we hit the woods.  As we started running, people took off like jack rabbits.  Where was the fire?  Dan got sucked into the crowd and off they went.  I trotted behind everyone, bringing up the rear in DFL.  I looked down at my Garmin and I was jogging at a 10:30mm pace.  No worries, I knew I would pass plenty of those people later on in the race.  I pretty much suck at everything running except for pacing.  I'm a very consistent pacer.

So into the woods we went.  It was raining.  It was always raining.  It would rain for the entire race, eventually turning the trail into a mini river.  After a few miles, I caught up to Dan and we played leap frog for a while.  When he was running, he was running at a faster pace than me, but I was running more frequently.  Sometime during this time, he turned back to me and yelled, "How cool is this?!"  In the beginning miles of a rainy ultra when you're in the middle of the forest running through a fog, it I had to concur that it was pretty damn cool.

Dan dropped me after a while and took off, so I was running alone.  Early on in the race, I decided that I needed to embrace the suck.  At first you try to keep your feet dry, avoiding the puddles on the trail.  Then there comes a point where you just say fuck it, and splash right on through.  Make peace with the fact that you're going be muddy, sopping wet, and cold.  Embracing the suck is sort of the essence of ultra running.  For a while I passed the time by contemplating the pain associated with ultra running and wondered if that made me some sort of masochist.  Then I couldn't decide if I actually liked the pain, or just the feeling of the pain stopping.  Maybe a combination of both.

Speaking of pain, I took only fall during the entire race and it was a good one.  Coming into the 13 mile aid station, there was a set of wooden steps leading down to the aid station.  I slipped on my way down and tumbled down the rest of the steps directly into the crowd at the aid station.  Apparently I wanted to make an entrance.

I hit the turn around in 3:50, almost the exact same time as last year.  I popped my first 600mg of ibuprofen here for my aching groin and hip flexor.  Coming back into my slip 'n slide aid station for the second time, I managed to hold it together.  Dan was there and had just changed clothes.  He asked me if I wanted to go for a walk.  I yelled at him as he was leaving, "I'm going to catch you if you're just walking!"  I put on my iPod leaving this aid station with the thought in my head of catching Dan.  Shortly after this was my only true low point in the race.  My stomach wasn't feeling well and thought that maybe I needed to visit the restroom in the trees.  So I bushwhacked off trail, but was unsuccessful in my quest.  Back on the trail, I ate a ginger chew and increased my water intake.  That seemed to fix things after a mile or two.

Feeling better and rocking out to some tunes, I decided to go "hunting for wunners," in words of my dear, sleep deprived, 100 mile running friend Katie.  First on my list: Dan Stickler in his bright neon jacket.  20 miles into the race and I was feeling good.  I knew that I would be able to pick off a good handful of folks who went out too fast.  So off I ran.  Eventually I did catch Dan and I'm afraid that I turned into a "heartless twat" as I cruised by.  (His words, not mine.)  There may have been taunting involved.  I thought maybe he would try to stick with me, but I never saw him again until the finish.

The rain seemed to increase in intensity as the day went on.  At points it would just start to come down in sheets and thought to myself, "Bring it on, mother nature!"  I ran as much as I could and power hiked the hills with vigor.  I relished running through the puddles and the mud.  I was having a blast.  After Dan, I picked off more people.  Then even more. 

At some point, I realized that I was going to take a good chunk off of last year's dismal time.  But how big of a chunk?  I was pretty sure that I could finish in under 8 hours.  As the miles went by, I was constantly doing math.  Could I finish in under 7:50?  I think so.  And the closer I got to the finish line, the greedier I got.  Maybe I can even finish in under 7:45, I thought.  I ran.  Oh, did I run.  I pressed on, passing more people.  Holy shit, maybe I can finish in under 7:40?  7:40 would mean that I had run even splits.  Finally I settled on a goal: I'm going to negative split this race and finish in 7:30 something.  I was constantly looking at my Garmin and calculating those last few miles.  I was running well and breathing hard, pushing in a way that I haven't done during a race in a while.  A fast 50 miler passed me and kept looking back at me to see if I was catching him, thinking that I was also a speedy 50 miler in contention for a top 10 finish.  It made me laugh, but also gave me confidence that I must look like I'm moving well.

Finally we popped out of the woods and into flatter prairie land with less than 2 miles to the finish.  I was running at a 10:30mm pace on the flat grass.  Same as the start.  I felt too good at the end of this race.  It would have been a great day to run longer had my groin been in better shape.  I even had delusions of finishing, then turning around and backtracking to find Dan and run him in.  (Delusions, of course, squished by the prospect of warm chili and cookies at the finish.)  But the trail abruptly ends and plops you onto some easy road running for about a half mile until the finish.  I got choked up a little on the road, realizing that I had run an almost perfectly executed race, something I hadn't done in a very long time.

Finish time: 7:35:10.  Almost an hour better than last year and a 5 minute negative split. 

Running that time on that trail without training and through an injury gives me confidence going into 2013, knowing that I can run a sub-7 50K on an easier course.

I ate some chili, spent a while in the bathroom attempting to clean the mud off of me and changed into warm, dry clothes and waited for Dan.  Eventually I took my wet clothes to the car and happened to time it perfectly to see Dan strolling down the street to the finish.  I turned into a heartless twat and again and yelled, "RUN IT IN, DAN!"  He complied. 

Thanks to Dan for running with me, baking me forgotten bread (I'm sure it was delicious), and putting up with me in general.  You know where to find me when you're ready to run that 50.

Fleece and finisher's "medal."

Yummy shoes afterward.