​A friend of mine told me he swam for 90 minutes today.

He’s not training for an Ironman, or any triathlon.

He’s just nursing an injury to his ankle. We were briefly commiserating on our injuries, and I realized I was truly in the dumps if I was envious of swimming laps. Friends, I hate swimming. I’ve done triathlons, and they’re fine, and I love running and cycling (and especially love the recent partnership with 605 Running Co. and Spoke-N-Sport to promote both activities).
​
But swimming?

Just no. First of all, I’m terrible at it – awkward and inefficient (sort of how I am in general, too, in most of my activities of daily life). My brother in law is the swim coach at Williams College, and once I asked him to give me a few tips. He watched me swim. Looked thoughtful. Then offered a piece of advice:

“You know, you can move your legs.”

That was about it for me. That and the part where I’m just full on terrified of open water. I get all creeped out about what could touch me underwater (fish, plants, the feet of other swimmers, my own insecurities).

But I’m just over two weeks into this broken wrist, and while the level of pain has gone down, my level of depression about it just continues to rise. It would help if I could run, but the weird calf pull I had is still bothering me. I can walk all day and it doesn’t hurt, but after a few minutes of running, everything tightens up. I saw someone about it and hope to start physical therapy soon, or something.

I’ve been injured before – this is my seventh broken bone, I think – but for some reason this time is making me so much more frustrated. Or maybe it always does, and it’s just been so long I’ve forgotten about how it plays with your emotions. And it’s not like it won’t heal – none of this is permanent.
But to see the green grass and the bike path and the leaves coming in, and to know that I won’t be out there for a few weeks still has been tough.

At this point, I would welcome a 90-minute swim. Or a 30-minute pool run. Anything except this nothingness.

The other night, I came home from work and felt like I couldn’t get out of bed. I haven’t felt that way in a while, and it’s not a good feeling. It was sunny and still and gorgeous out. I wanted to trail run. Or ride my bike. Do yoga on the back patio. Something.

Instead, we went for a walk.

Made salads.

Sat on the deck and played backgammon.

It was a wonderful evening, and I was grateful for it.

But the next morning was crisp and cool and still, and I couldn’t make myself just go take a walk. We were leaving for another few days, and my arm hurt, and I told myself just rest, and start it all over again when you get back.

Well, we’re back.

I’m going to set up a bike trainer in the garage, I think, so if you see me pedaling in there and watching the cars go by, wave. I plan to meet a friend to run tomorrow, knowing that we might end up just walking instead. And I’ll go to the Thursday evening group run at Good Earth State Park, my favorite spring and summer tradition, and run as long as I can. Another friend is meeting me there, and she’s not a runner, so we’ll hike around.

Just like when you’re in the thick of training, you surround yourself with others who can keep you motivated and challenge you, I’m trying to make myself accountable to the people I love and who love me. I know it will help. It always does.

And sometimes you just need to make a plan, stick to it, and let your bones and emotions and life knit itself all back together again.
​
I’m trying.

​Jacqueline Palfy is a longtime runner, reader and writer, marathoner, mom and board member of the nonprofit Sioux Falls Area Running Club. Her contributions to the 605 Running Co. blog will appear every other Tuesday. You can follow her on Twitter @runnerJPK or reach her at jpalfyklemond@gmail.com. Story ideas are encouraged.

​This weekend I will be participating in the Fargo Marathon. The marathon distance is something I’ve really struggled with in the past; especially my last effort in Houston. In many ways I’m out to avenge my previous effort. To do that I’ve had a pretty amazing team helping me get ready for the Fargo Marathon. Today on the blog I’ve decided to compare my team to characters from the Avengers. Why? Because it is really fun. I cannot say thank you to these characters enough and what they have meant in my journey so this, in my own weird way is the best I can do today.

​Coach Jacqui Meadors is Maria Hill. Maria Hill is the Deputy Director of SHIELD. She is a character in the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) that is known for being clearheaded and tough minded. She is one of the characters that works in the shadows and is often times the right hand of Nick Fury. Will get into him later. I think this character works for Coach Meadors because Maria Hill isn’t afraid of anything or any opponent. While she doesn’t have any official super powers that doesn’t stop her from taking names and kicking butt when she needs to. In similar regard Coach is a highly decorated runner, but for as talented of an athlete that she is, she just may be a better coach. Coach has successfully guided me through injury, doubts and mental blocks throughout training.

​Ben Kohls is Clint Barton AKA Hawkeye. Fans were totally surprised in the Avengers: Age of Ultron movie to discover that Hawkeye had a secret family. When I first met Ben at the Saturday morning group run at 605 Running Company I literally ran with him for weeks before learning he had 6 kids! Hawkeye is another character that doesn’t technically have any super powers, but fans have grown to love this character and his humor. This character fits Ben so well. He has a very dry humor and he is always working to insure that the group we run with is truly a team. He genuinely cares about people and wants to see them succeed. Plus he is pretty dang fast with an appropriate GIF in a text train.

​Chris Anderson is Steve Rogers AKA Captain America. Cap. Is known as the first avenger. Anyone that enjoys our Wednesday evening group run has Chris Anderson to thank. When our store first opened Chris came to many-a-group-run events where he was the only participant. His dedication can easily be compared to Steve Rogers trying time and time again to join the service in Captain America: The First Avenger. I’m not going to say that the CA Not On Instagram has been genetically altered to have super powers, but he has a great way of running most any pace and any distance with anyone and everyone that shows up to a group run at 605 Running Company or at Good Earth on Thursdays. Plus if you ever do a long run with Chris he usually has chocolate milk for everyone at the finish. How Captain America is that!

​Maren Ernst is Bruce Banner AKA The Hulk. Imagine a character that is highly intelligent and downright witty one minute and a complete rage monster the next. Maren like Bruce is very smart and truly cares about people, but trust me you don’t want to see her when she is angry. Thankfully she is on our team and usually takes that rage out on a workout. Proving time-and-time again that she is one of the most talented runners I know Maren is the key to our training team, just like the Hulk is the key to the Avengers success. She usually keeps the group accountable by planning early morning runs and isn’t afraid to push the pace while saying she is dying at the same time. Like the Hulk gets stronger the madder you make him, Maren gets faster on most runs. 

​Coach Benson Langat is Nick Furry. Nick Furry is the man behind the scenes that creates the Avengers Initiative. The model that brings all of the hero’s together. Similar to the Wizard of Oz, Benson is behind the curtain pushing buttons and motivating each of us in his own way. Like Nick Furry he has his own team of elite agents (I’m looking at you Nic Penning, Bobby Brockmueller, Matt Horan, Dylan Slaba, Jordin Kopplow and Tessa Stoltenberg) that he usually works with, but he is very connected to our hero’s as well and you never know when he will show up and join us for a run or crew a Sunday long run.

This core group has made training truly fun. Some honorable mentions include Steven Burdick as Iron Man, Scott Kennedy as Star Lord, Nicole Black as Spider Man, Dan Zelenak as Quicksilver, Chad Brower as Vision and Nate Schwab as Doctor Strange. I’ve learned so much about myself and the power of surrounding yourself with good people. Working at the running store I get to see a lot of running groups come together. I’m always jealous of how connected they seem to be. I’d like to give a shout out to Jeroni, the local Hogwarts Running Club, the Sexy Pacers, the Kiwanis Hill group and all of the other amazing groups of runners supporting each other. I think this is a great indication of how strong our running scene is here. Our community has grown to support the Sioux Falls Area Running Club and Sioux Falls Women Run in a way that was simply not imaginable in years past. This weekend I’m traveling to run a race and I’m very proud to represent this great city! To all of my friends running with me this weekend lets go kick some butt! 

​Greg Koch is the General Manager/Co-Owner of the 605 Running Company. When he is not at the store he volunteers on the Sioux Falls Marathon Board and Co-Coaches his church softball co-ed team. Greg is an avid runner and enjoys being outdoors whenever possible. Follow Greg on Instagram @gregrun605

​I had grand plans for this post.
 
I’m fresh off a two-week trip to Italy that started with work and ended with vacation. We should have Strava(ed) our tourism, but I swear we walked 10 miles a day, more the two days we got so lost we actually walked in circles trying to figure out where we were.
 
I had let my calf heal – it seized up tromping through knee-high snow the last time I ran in late April, a maddening development after choosing to not go to Zumbro in an effort to avoid injury.
 
My plan was to post about how I was ready to dive back into training for the Black Hills 50 in June. About how happy I was to come home to green grass, blue skies and the promise of spring in South Dakota. I was so sad when I left for vacation. It was grey and cold and then all the late April snow just made me miserable. I felt myself sinking.
 
But then I left for a while, took time to unlearn all I’ve learned, for this life to unwind, as the song says, and came back to the city I love in a season I adore. 

​I woke up on Sunday feeling way less jet-lagged than I thought I would, and headed to Good Earth for a trail run. I knew re-entry to running would be tough – feeling out of shape and tired and just bleh. But I also knew I love the trails and the woods and time alone. I didn’t bring music. After weeks of being surrounded by crowds and people, I wanted to just be.  Me. My breathing. Footfall after footfall.
 
I got it, for a while, until my calf began to cramp up. I walked up the hills, found Patrick at the top. He had ridden out, hiked around with me for a while, and then I dropped down onto the paths again and ran another 20 minutes. When I finished, slightly despondent, there he was, staring at a tire on his bike that had just randomly blown off.
 
We threw it in the car, drove home.
 
Patrick put a new tire on, and we corralled the kids for an afternoon ride. We randomly caught up with the Harlan’s Bike & Tour ride, and headed to Riverdale Park to enjoy a beautiful day with everyone we know.
 
On the way, Viv pumped her way up a little hill, so proud of herself that she could stand up and ride now. “Go, Viv, you can do it,” I said as I pedaled next to her.
 
Then I watched as she slowed down, began to stop and the bike leaned toward me. She laid it down, and stepped through to the other side.
 
Meanwhile, as I hyper focused on making sure she wasn’t going to fall, I came to a near standstill, riding uphill with my feet clipped in. I did the slow fall, put an arm out to stop me, felt a pain so intense I got nauseated immediately.
 
Viv began to cry, “I’m sorry!”
 
“It’s OK, it’s not your fault,” I said. It wasn’t. It was an accident.
 
“Can you ride,” Patrick asked.
 
I wasn’t sure. “Just go to the park, and I’ll meet you there,” I said.
 
My stomach was turning, my arm hurt and I felt flushed and awful and needed to be alone for a minute. He and Jack rode ahead. Viv walked over the bridge with me, got on her bike on the other side and gave me a moment alone. I got on. Rode with one hand. Laid my bike in the grass in the shade and sunk down next to it.
 
“I think I should go get the car,” Patrick said.
 
“I’m fine,” I said. “I just need a few minutes.”
 
About a decade ago, I fell off my bike near Brandon and fractured my elbow. I didn’t know it at the time, just that it hurt. I rode home and went to work that day. I asked myself if this fall hurt as badly, and I couldn’t tell.
 
Finally, as it swelled up as I sat there, I gave in.
 
“Can you ride with Jack and get the car,” I said.
 
“Yes, I’ve just been waiting for you to realize that,” Patrick said.
 
They rode off, came back with the car, ice and a Diet Coke.
 
“That’s love,” I said about the pop.
 
We climbed in, went home and I sat and iced it. Outside, some neighborhood kids climbed onto the playset in our yard, and it immediately snapped. It had been listing to the north for about a year, and this was the end. The kids were fine, but it was clear: It had to come down.
 
Patrick and Jack took it apart.
 
My wrist continued to swell.
 
My mood continued to deteriorate.
 
We all went to sleep, a rotting pile of wood in the middle of the back yard, a wrist growing more and more disfigured as the evening wore on, two kids with feet already stained with the grass green and black dirt of summer.
 
“This day was so weird,” Patrick said.
 
“I know,” I replied. “I’m afraid to do anything. It’s been all wildly inconvenient.”
 
I woke up and everything hurt. I iced. Ibuprofened. Took a shower. The kids did their best to help themselves. We all left the house.
 
By noon at work, my wrist was weird shapes and things were turning purple. It clicked when I turned it. I went to the walk-in clinic, where they did X-rays. Every step of the way, I considered leaving. There’s no way it’s broken. I jammed it a few years ago and it felt the same, and that was just a sprain.
 
I kept almost just leaving.
 
Then the physician’s assistant came back in, Eric Bannworth, a runner I know, and said, “It’s broken.”
 
“You’re kidding,” I said.
 
Then I let loose a string of expletives unfit for a family blog.
 
Thankfully he’s a runner, and we’ve been acquaintances for years, and he got it. He knows how frustrating it is when what you do for stress relief requires your body to be in working condition. I had consoled myself with my calf injury by replacing it with riding for a few weeks. At least I’d still be outside. Moving.
 
Now?
 
A month in a cast. A visit with a hand doctor. A calf that’s still sore.
 
No running until that heals (the worst). A Memorial Day bike packing trip that likely won’t happen. A trip across the country with both kids that will surely suck as we run through airports, dragging them behind to make our connections. No yoga.
 
It’s hard to not be frustrated.
 
But here we are.
 
The kids promised they would help me out. Patrick made dinner from a recipe I set out for him. Jack ate sweet potatoes in an effort to be kind – and liked them.
 
The lights are on over the deck. I opened a bottle of white wine. I’m listening to Internet radio.
 
I told myself this is the month the kids learn to be more self-sufficient. No time like the present.
 
I can finish my overdue library books.
 
I’ve been here before – injured, cracked bones, torn muscles.
 
We all have.
 
It all heals.
 
We all heal.
 
In time.

​​Jacqueline Palfy is a longtime runner, reader and writer, marathoner, mom and board member of the nonprofit Sioux Falls Area Running Club. Her contributions to the 605 Running Co. blog will appear every other Tuesday. You can follow her on Twitter @runnerJPK or reach her at jpalfyklemond@gmail.com. Story ideas are encouraged.

​Jacqueline Palfy is a longtime runner, reader and writer, marathoner, mom and board member of the nonprofit Sioux Falls Area Running Club. Her contributions to the 605 Running Co. blog will appear every other Tuesday. You can follow her on Twitter @runnerJPK or reach her at jpalfyklemond@gmail.com. Story ideas are encouraged.

By: Kelly Thurman ​
The Avera Race Against Breast Cancer was the first race I ever ran.
 
As soon as I arrived, a ball of nervous energy, it was hard not to get excited. So many people in one spot running for so many things – personal records, as survivors, or in remembrance of love ones.
 
I flew down the Southeastern Avenue hill faster than I’d ever run before, then slogged up it on the way back wondering why I’d started so fast. It was the first time I felt like a true runner and my first introduction to the running community in Sioux Falls.
 
We all run for different reasons. Me? I’m not winning any awards for speed. I run to stay healthy as I head into middle age. I run races because I still love the exhilaration of that first mile, even though it always gets me in trouble.  

​The Avera Race brings so many people together because we can all relate. You may not run but you know someone diagnosed with cancer. Most know several. My father battled bladder cancer for years. It was a persistent itch that just wouldn’t go away. Always treatable and slow growing but never truly gone.
 
My grandmother was diagnosed with breast cancer twice. She also survived bladder cancer but eventually was diagnosed with colorectal cancer and passed away soon after. She skipped a colonoscopy because she was worn out following bladder cancer treatments. By the time she had symptoms the tumor was too large and too close to her spinal cord to be removed. If you ever think of skipping your colonoscopy, my advice is don’t.
 
I remember as a child going over to her house after her mastectomy to help take care of her as she recovered. I was annoyed that she needed so much help, too young to realize what an ordeal she was going through and how scared she must have been. Years later she had another mastectomy when the cancer came back.
 
She never had breast reconstruction. Financially it probably wasn’t feasible. For the rest of her life she wore special padding in her bra. She kept those pads in a box she affectionately called her “boob” box. I never really heard her talk about her cancer, and I never asked what it was like to lose such a large part of herself. She just did what she had to do and moved on with her life.
 
That’s one reason the Avera Race was created 30 years ago. A group of women started the race in support of Judy Davis who had recently been diagnosed. They wanted to raise awareness about a disease that women didn’t want to discuss.
Thirty years later, Davis says the annual race is her special day. “I love that day. It is thrilling for me to stand on the stage with Jackie (Haggar-Tuschen) and look out and see what we have accomplished. Family and friends come out to celebrate the survivors and honor those who have gone before us,” she said.
 
Things have changed over the years. Survivorship is much higher and women have more options when it comes to surgery, breast reconstruction and treatment. That’s in thanks large part to important research that’s being done across the world and right here in Sioux Falls.
 
The Avera Race is not only fun for runners, it helps fund programs for people right here in the Sioux Falls area. What does a donation do? It ensures every woman diagnosed with cancer gets a free wig. It funds breast cancer research. It provides support services to help with the side effects of treatment.
 
Most of all, it brings us together for a common cause. Just like we all run for different reasons, we all run for different people. My father keeps me going when the steps get harder — a reminder that sometimes I just need to keep going because I can.
 
When you fly down that hill at the start of the Avera Race, who will you be running for?
 
The 30th Avera Race Against Breast Cancer is May 12. There are 10K and 5K chip timed races and 3 mile and 1.5 mile walk options.

Register at AveraRaceSiouxFalls.org. Use code 605RUN for a special 605 Running discount.