Bruised on my bum, but far from bummed

Merriam-Webster defines masochism as "pleasure in being abused or dominated: a taste for suffering." While no true competitor enjoys being dominated, the rest of the definition is quite appropriate for the philosophy of a successful distance runner. I argue that the injured distance runner is even more of a masochist, trying any legal method, no matter how cruel, in the hopes that it may further the progress toward recovery.

The most painful treatment I've endured during my quest to return to competitive running is called the Graston technique (Graston for short, although there are other names for this same type of treatment). Graston uses a patented set of metal torture tools (invented by one David Graston as a way to treat himself after a water skiing injury) to detect and remove fascial and myofascial adhesions and restrictions. In layman's terms, it's like digging the flat edge of a butter knife into the most painful spot you can find where there are knots or scar tissue stuck on a tendon, ligament or muscle.

I first had Graston done on a tiny muscle in between two of my ribs after I tore it during the track state meet my sophomore year in high school . Before the physical therapist dug in, he warned me that most of the grown men who get the treatment cry because it hurts so much. Great. At that point I was determined not to cry, but boy did I want to, it definitely did hurt.

I had a lovely honeymoon away from Graston for the next four or five years before rediscovering it in the IU athletic training room. Sometimes it really helped, but sometimes I just got bruised. After I was done at IU I had a few Graston treatments at Rebound, the physical therapy place I now use. Again, a few cool bruises, but still tight and restricted in the areas that received the treatment.

Over the last four months, I have had a Graston bruise on one part of my body or another the entire time. When I went to get a massage the masseuse asked if I had been in a car accident. I would joke that someone had pushed me down the stairs, but nope, it was self-inflicted. I had asked for this "treatment." This was a hard concept to explain to non-runners.

The worst of the bruises came when I begged my former IU trainer to treat me one more time before the Marathon Trials in hopes of a miraculous recovery. He had performed Graston on me a few weeks earlier and it worked wonders, until I screwed it up by trying to do mile repeats on the track a few days later (too much too soon). The trainer tried his best to help me again, but unfortunately that time I was left with a bruise that left a shadow over my whole right thigh that is still visible a full two months later and little actual relief.

My latest Graston bruise was somewhat unexpected. While at Rebound this past Friday I was lying on my side as the PT was stretching out my hip. Before I knew it, she was using the Graston tool on my rear side, and I instantly knew why she didn't warn me. It hurt like few other Graston treatments have hurt and I don't think she wanted me to know what she was about to do. My bum has a nice souvenir from it, but luckily it's much less visible to the rest of the world than the bruises I've had down my thigh and around my shoulders.

Thankfully, this time around the bruise seems to be worth it as I went on a pain-free four-mile run yesterday on the Rail Trail. Every time I sit down or stand up I can feel the bruise on my butt and I have a nice reminder of Mr. Graston and his metal torture tools. Masochist or not, I prefer to think of myself as an optimist. I'm hopeful that whichever treatment I am going with now is getting me one step closer to packing in the miles again.