A Good Doctor ... or a GREAT Doctor?

   “A good doctor treats the disease; 

the great doctor treats the patient who has the disease.” – William Osler

"What the …?” After a 17 mile training run, I was taking my house key out of my pocket when I noticed my hands. They were white and cold. What is this?
I immediately called my primary care doctor, I felt fine but my hands were freaking me out. By the time I arrived in her office, some color had returned. She held my hands and examined them. “This looks like Raynaud syndrome. What have you been doing?” she asked.
I told her about my training run. She stared at me …

What would be treated, the “disease” or me? 

Three Important Questions:

1. Does your doctor have experience treating runners?

Even if your doctor seems to be an excellent doctor based on her credentials and training, it is important to have a doctor who enjoys working with runners; has experience treating running injuries; and understands the physiological and biochemical differences between running and non-running patients. 

• My doctor responded, “Listen. I don’t have experience treating runners. Every day I beg my patients to exercise. But I suspect the medication, which I prescribe routinely to many patients, has caused this. I know a cardiologist who is a runner and specializes in treating athletes. Let’s get you an appointment with him.”

2. Does your doctor run?

If my friends and family can’t understand why I am running, how will a total stranger like a doctor understand me better? If your doctor doesn’t run, you can’t expect her to understand your passion for running. 

• The first thing the cardiologist said to me was, “So you’re training for a marathon, which one?” I knew I was in good hands. After chatting about our favorite races, we were able to work out an effective treatment plan. I ran my marathon and I have never experienced Raynaud syndrome again. He was great.

According to a survey of 4,950 doctors in the U.S. conducted by AMA Insurance, running is popular among doctors. Approximately 50% of the doctors surveyed who were under the age of 40 said they ran. Among those ages 40 to 59, 36% run and those age 60 and up, 23% run.

And while doctors who are runners may be more prevalent in practices related to sports medicine (cardiology, orthopedics, podiatry, etc.), they are out there - even my breast doctor is a runner!  

• At my last appointment, we shared our pandemic running experiences. She encouraged me to keep running and emphasized the positive impact running has on my health and wellness. We discussed an array of medications to reduce my breast cancer risk and then which one would be best for me - a runner. She is great.

3. Does your doctor say, "Stop running"?

“Stop running,” is the easiest thing for a doctor to say. This is understandable from a doctor’s point of view. If you have a specific running injury, your doctor wants to treat the “disease.” A good doctor wants you to heal. A great doctor wants you to heal, too. Plus a great doctor will work with you to create a customized plan to get you back to running.

 After a running injury, doctors will often ask you to switch from running to riding a bike, swimming or working out on an elliptical. These exercises can decrease high impact stresses, especially in the feet and ankles. This type of lower impact exercising can help running injuries heal.  

However, many doctors will attempt to talk you into permanently switching from running to a “different kind of exercise.” That advice is appropriate for people who are exercising to lose weight or maintain a certain fitness level but not for you if running is your passion, your lifestyle.

 If you are experiencing other health issues, you could hire a good doctor to provide expert advice and guidance on your specific “disease”.  But you want to hire a great doctor.  A great doctor has the medical “know-how” and is willing to work with you to develop strategies which specifically treat you.   

It is crucial that you explain to your doctor that, for you, running is not entertainment, it’s not a way for you to lose weight, and it’s not simply “exercise.” Make it clear to your doctor that running is an essential part of your life - physically, mentally, and spiritually. If, after sharing this, your doctor treats your running as a “disease,” go find a great doctor who will treat YOU!

“It makes me sad to see you running alone.”

 

For many years I ran through Morven Park in Leesburg, Virginia. A group of runners would invariably cross paths with me. We always exchanged greetings, “Good morning!’ - “Isn’t this a beautiful sunrise!” - “Have a great day!” 

One spring morning, our paths crossed again but this day a single runner in the group stopped and said, “It makes me sad to see you running alone.”
“What?” I laughed, “I am happy and I feel great.” Her response, “Are you sure?” Yes, I am sure.

On the extrovert-introvert continuum, I think that runner trended towards the “extrovert” portion. This, according to dictionary.com, means she’s probably “an outgoing, gregarious person who thrives in dynamic environments and seeks to maximize social engagement.” Perhaps running for her is, first and foremost, a social activity. And maybe she “can’t run without a group -– the camaraderie. What it was is that she wanted to be with people.”[1] Maybe seeing me running solo made her feel “sad” because running in her group made her feel so happy.

I definitely trend towards being an introvert but I have never thought, “It makes me sad to seeing you running in a group.” … until a few months ago, during the pandemic lockdown. Runners were specifically asked to forego group runs and run solo for the duration of the lockdown. However, group runs continued. 

Perhaps the group runners were all extroverts and, while introverts have experienced a lifetime of being forced out of their comfort zone into “team building exercises,” “group projects”, etc., extroverts are rarely asked to step outside their comfort zone into solitude. I felt “sad” the group runners were missing a unique opportunity to expand their comfort zone, to push themselves to experience running solo for a limited time without compromising who they are.

Without a doubt I prefer calm environments, small social engagements, and I most certainly embrace a greater than average preference for solitude. For me, “running is my meditation, mind flush, cosmic telephone, mood elevator and spiritual communion.”[2] When I run as an “extrovert” – in large events- I am not compromising who I am. I am simply moving forward, step-by-step, expanding my comfort zone. 

In running, and in life, there are many different ways to move forward. The purpose of life, Dr. George Sheehan[3] thought, was to discover what kind of body you have and what kind of person you are meant to be. Then, through running, fulfill your design. 

Whether your design trends towards extrovert or trends towards introvert, work with and expand it. Acknowledge that others are working with and expanding their own designs, too. The choice to run solo or in a group is a natural outcome of striving to fulfill our designs. Make this one life you have a work of art. 

“It makes me happy to see you running.” 

[1] Gill Schumaker:, started running group Team NorthShore in Chicago, IL

[2] Lorraine Moller: Olympic Marathon bronze medal winner and 1984 Boston Marathon winner.

[3] George A. Sheehan : a physician, senior athlete and author best known for his writings about the sport of running.

"You don't look like a runner."

I learned early on that I did not have an athletic bone in my body. Many times I was told that I “threw like a girl” or “ran like a girl” or simply, “You stink!” For a few summers I did play on a junior high softball team. During one game, as I stood out in right field, a woman spectator yelled at me, “You shouldn’t be playing. You’re no good. Let someone else play who is!” 

Needless to say, I did not excel at “sports.” But as Eleanor Oliphant* said: “I do not feel sorry for myself, not in the least. These are simply statements of fact.”

Still, I loved swimming in the pool down the street, bike riding, and running around the neighborhood. I did not take dance or gymnastics classes or play team sports. I basically “ran wild,” on my own. 

In college, I would wear a swim suit under my running clothes, run to the indoor pool, swim laps, put my running clothes back on over my swimsuit and run back to the dorm. In the winter sometimes my wet hair would freeze. Once, when I stepped into the dorm elevator, a girl asked, “What happened to your hair?” I explained my routine and she responded, “You don’t look like a runner.”

    

After college running took a backseat to family and work. When my children were babies, I would run in circles in our basement. When they were older, I woke up at 4 am to run while Dave got ready for work. Then I came home, Dave left, I got ready, woke up the children, and, finally, we were off and “running” to daycare, school and work.

I was 35 when I enlisted in the Air Force. In Boot Camp, I was our training flight’s PC monitor. I think I was chosen specifically because I “didn’t look like a runner.” Maybe the TIs thought it would be an easy way to get me, the oldest recruit, to “wash out.” Compared to the other recruits, I am sure I didn’t “look like a runner.” But I was. Every morning I set the pace as our flight ran in formation. On our last run, the TI shook his head, smiled ever-so-slightly, and said, “Ketron, you are a pocket rebel.”

After Boot Camp I was stationed at Keesler AFB for technical training. There I ran my first 5K. I was anxious about running in front of a crowd - “real” runners would see me! Fortunately my friends said, “Just run your own pace and remember free beer at the finish!” I passed a woman and the back of her shirt read, “Part-time Runner, Full-time Drinker.” I realized 99% of the runners were simply running for fun, just like me. Perhaps we didn’t look like runners, but we were running.

 After that first 5K, I was hooked on the positive energy of running events. I ran whenever, and wherever I could. (So far I have run on four continents.) About ten years ago, a co-worker asked me how I enjoyed my weekend off. I said," I had a great weekend, I ran a marathon.” My co-worker responded, “Wait, what? You don’t look like a runner!” 

I am a runner who is closer to life’s “finish line,” than to the start. I don’t know when, but someday I will no longer be able to run. I have no regrets about the role running has played in my life. While others focused on whether or not I “looked like a runner,” I focused on being a runner.


* “Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine,” by Gail Honeyman, an excellent book!