snap crackle pop

snap crackle pop

I totally miss writing in my blog. All right, it’s been awhile but it’s hard to write about running when you’re not running.

I have taken a two month sabbatical from running to alleviate some of the pain I was in. And I am feeling much better now, but the journey isn’t over. I’ve been seeing a chiropractor for the last few months, which I have never had done before in my life. Honestly, I’ve always been very skeptical of them, but I was at the point where I would try anything.

Well, almost anything… well, not acupuncture yet. Wait, I have tried hanging upside down on the monkey bars at our park with my kids, hoping the pressure off my discs would give me some relief. That didn’t work, except give me a head rush.

So, it’s been quite the process at the chiropractor. I don’t like lying on the table in the fetal-tuck position waiting for my doctor to arrive and roll me back and forth like a hot potato before he puts the kabash on me. Last time, he looked down at me while I was cringing and asked,

“What’s wrong?”

I replied back “I hate this part”. It didn’t matter, because he proceeded with the kabash. Snap. Crackle. Pop.

Now I’m not really sure if this is really helping or if this is just a bunch of baloney, but I am back on the roads running again and I am happy about that. I signed up for Boston and am using that as a goal to motivate me to get better.

Plus, I can’t really give up running.


1/5/09 – 1/11/09:
M – 5 mi
T – 7 mi
W – 60 min cycle
T – 7 mi
F – 5 mi
S – 10 mi
S – 60 min hike

Em

em

Two years ago, I was running laps around the neighborhood with my cell phone clipped to my fuel belt. I was waiting for my husband to phone me to let me know when they were going to start the “sweat” test.

I had spent the last three nights in the hospital with my daughter who had pneumonia on both sides of her lungs. You would probably never guess she was sick, because she was constantly bouncing off the walls.

Two rounds of oral antibiotics didn’t kick this out of her system and her pulmonologist said it was time for her to go onto IV antibiotics at the hospital. The issue was how to get her in, since there was a waiting list for beds. We waited and waited and then finally her doctor called and said to get her in through the ER.

We’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on with Em since she was 2 years old. I was getting tired of the pediatrician prescribing the same damn cough medicine every time I saw her. It was not until we visited our friends on the east coast that we finally got closer to what was causing Em’s health issues.

Our friend Chris is a respiratory therapist that works in the neonatal unit at a hospital in Atlanta. He suggested that we take her to a pulmonologist. So when we got back into town, I went to the pediatrician and asked for a referral to a pediatric pulmonologist.

Several months later, my daughter’s condition got worse and x-rays revealed the pneumonia that started in one corner of her lungs had finally made its way throughout her lungs. So, here I was waiting for the first rounds of tests to see what was causing all of this. The doctor wanted to do a CT scan, sweat test and a lung biopsy on her.

It was Thanksgiving and she had just completed her sweat test to see if she had cystic fibrosis. It came back negative. Her doctor decided to let us go home and have her come back for the biopsy later.

We left the hospital mid-afternoon and made it to my parents just in time for Thanksgiving dinner.

Several weeks later, she had a biopsy done and it revealed that she most likely had a rare genetic lung disease. You know it’s not good when a doctor prefaces what they’re about to say with “bad news”. I could see my husband’s eyes fill with tears and I was just numb.

I was numb for the next several weeks and kept asking my husband, “She’s going to grow out of this, right?” “No”, he replied. And I couldn’t accept that. It wasn’t until on one of my long runs with my friends that all of this hit me. I had a cold that day and shouldn’t have been out running anyways. But I came to a point in my run where I couldn’t breathe anymore and I had to stop. The last time I remember having to stop during a run was when I bonked on my first marathon.

Fortunately, no one was around me and I just started walking and sobbing. Then, my friends pulled up in their van beside me and all I thought was “Shit, I don’t want them to see me like this”. Anyways, they pulled me inside and drove me back to my car. That run is now known as the Annie-cry-run, maybe because there’s a killer-hill in it too equivalent to Heart-Break.

Two years later and my daughter is healthy again. She participated in a medical study last year to help better diagnose this disease. As a result of that study, we finally received information this year which confirmed that she doesn’t have this disease. This is good, because she would most likely need oxygen on a daily-basis and eventually a lung transplant when she became an adult.

Still, we don’t know exactly what she has. My friend says she probably has “Em’s disease”. But I am truly grateful that she is healthy now on this Thanksgiving Day and we’ve been able to keep her out of the hospital.

Hate me now and love me later…

spinning away

That’s my spinning instructor’s mantra. He says it all the time.

I’ve been spinning away for the last few months. I’m not keeping track of time anymore. I’m just spinning.

As I walked into class this morning, I noticed my instructor had his knee wrapped in a bandage. Oh no, he got hurt again. The last time he did this he was playing flag football and got roughed up a bit and whacked his knee.

So, he wasn’t on his bike today. That meant he was a free-range instructor and he would end up wandering around the room looking to see how fast you were going.

Sure enough, he came around and took a peek at my rpm’s. “Maintain that speed all the way!” he yelled to everyone and then looked down at my bike. “You’re going to keep that right?” “Sure”, I replied.

Ok, there’s no way in hell I’m going to keep this while increasing the resistance up this imaginary hill. I’m sure he knows this too. I did fine for the next two segments. A few minutes later, he came back and checked my rpm’s again and “ha!” I was going faster. He just chuckled. But after cranking it up to the next resistance, my rpm’s started to fade. Damn.

I’m really enjoying the spinning and cycling. It’s the only thing in the gym that I can do where time flies by, besides swimming. I’ll put off swimming as much as I can, because I don’t want to jump into that cold water and swim next to Ursula, the sea witch. Pass.

I got all the results back from my MRI’s and bone scan and have a small bulge in my spine. My orthopedic surgeon says it’s not serious enough to operate on. And his advice was to stay off my feet for another 8 weeks and call him if anything changes.

That’s it?

I’m not sure if I’m happy or mad. How about just frustrated with this whole process? In the meantime, I’m actually enjoying the time off from running believe it or not. I did get a little weepy this weekend, when one of the instructors asked “So who’s going to run the so and so marathon?” “Um, not me”, I said.

It’s ok. I need to keep the big picture in mind.

Superman in New York

superman

If you see Superman in New York, tell him I said “hi”.

He goes by the name of Eric instead of Clark.

And his kryptonite is shard pieces of glass,

which he pulled out of his fingers, arms and shoulders the next few days

after that horrific incident with Lex Luther

16 months ago…


“Amazing” is what my friends and I thought after Eric walked away only with a broken leg when a car hit him head-on going about 55-65 miles per hour. The driver was inebriated and didn’t realize what had happened. Eric was in shock and didn’t know what had happened.

I tried to stay calm as I washed the blood off of his face and told him over and over again that everything was going to be “ok”. I held him as if he were one of my kids with a boo-boo, while I focused hard on the street curb ahead of me, waiting for the paramedics to pull up.

Well, they did show up and everything turned out fine. Of course, the trauma unit was not amused after they rolled his body onto the cold stainless steel table and Eric said “I guess this is better than being in the morgue”. I guess they didn’t understand Clark’s dry sense of humor.

It is now 16 months later and after enduring surgery and endless hours of physical therapy, I am happy to report that Superman will be running the New York City Marathon. If you happen to ask him how he is doing, he will always tell you “I’m about 90%”. So, I’m not sure what that means, because he will never reveal that. But I do know that I admire him tremendously and I am very thankful he kept me safe that day.

.

- Race Results:

The Man of Steel BQ'd. Not too shabby for someone who was told he would never run again!

the happiest place on earth

Next stop, the Twilight Zone

twilight zone

I got rear-ended yesterday by someone I knew. How bizarre is that? Out of 1.5 million people here, my friend crashed into me on the freeway. When I got out of the car, I walked over and peered into her car and said “Hey, I know you.” I could tell she was completely mortified and embarrassed. I was just fine, but a little shocked myself.

And what’s incredibly strange, is that I was on my way to the car shop for a tune-up to get ready for a road trip. “I’ll just have them give me an estimate on how much it will cost to replace the bumper”, I told her while I was thinking “cha-ching”. Of course, she said she would pay for it.

This is the second time I’ve been rear-ended in the last six months. What’s up with that? Is there something about my car that just says “please hit me”? About a year and half ago, a guy hit me really hard coming off the freeway. I yielded and he didn’t. My back hurt for the next two weeks. He believed it was my fault, because I didn’t have to yield…

As far as running goes, it’s not. I’m the kid standing outside the candy store with my nose pressed against the glass. The temperatures have dropped and I’m now noticing all kinds of people running outside. I see them on the way to work, while I’m eating lunch, etc.

I’m not sure what’s going on, but when I run, I’m in pain and when I don’t, I’m in pain. I’m shooting for most consecutive pain-free days now. Woo hoo, I’m up to two. Hopefully, my doctor will have some answers by the end of the month.

Now, I just need to stop getting rear-ended and get to Disneyland in one piece.

.

Hey Mickey, I'm almost there.

Let's play Twister, let's play Risk

thelma and louise

I woke up at 2:00 am yesterday. That was painful. I had a hard time sleeping and ended up waking up again at 3:00 am to get ready for my race. I think I’ve been worried about not getting up in time for my long runs and races lately, especially since I almost missed the Boston marathon this year due to oversleeping. That would have sucked.

Anyhow, I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a nice flat course. The web-site didn’t show a course elevation and I never got a response back from them. I looked at last year’s results and saw a runner that I know whom placed in our age division and I know she could run a faster time. That kind of told me something right there.

It’s been awhile since I’ve done a half marathon. I think probably two years, so I was a little nervous. I absolutely hate waiting around for a race to start and I end up studying everyone’s shoes at the start-line, trying to figure out if they just purchased their shoes or not. I helped one woman weave her ipod through her shirt to her ears.

The gun went off about 5 minutes late and it was still nice and cool. The first couple of miles were a gradual down-hill which was nice. Then, a big hill approached at about mile 2 and then another one around mile 5. These sucked a lot of energy out of me and it took me awhile to recover from them.

I would guess around mile 7, I headed onto dirt, rocky trails. The sun was coming out and it started to gradually beat down on me. My pace had slowed down at this point as the elevation increased slightly over the next few miles. At mile 10, my left hip and leg started to scream at me. And of course, my pace slowed down again. I was ready for this to end and now it was getting really hot.

The one thing I didn’t want to do is start walking. I saw several people do this and I just thought, “Oh, we’re so close. Keep going”. I picked up the pace the last half mile and strangely ended up placing 2nd in my age group, but I just didn’t feel like I ran a strong race. My biggest concern right now is my hip and leg. I think I’ll take some days off and will look at going to some ART sessions.

The best part of the race was driving back down to the valley in my car. At this point, the sun was up and revealing all the beautiful colors of the desert. The saguaros looked gorgeous and I was amazed how green the desert was. We just had some good rain storms in the last several weeks, which dumped some much needed water onto the landscape.

It is always easy to get carried away while driving through this. The speed limit is 75 mph and when you have the tunes cranked up, it’s easy to climb up to 85-90 mph. So, I had to keep looking at the speedometer to see if I was going a little too fast, Thelma and Louise-style. REM’s song “Man on the Moon” came on and I just loved it as I continued to drive through the desert and back home...

Man on the Moon

Mott the Hoople and the Game of Life. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Andy Kaufman in the wrestling match. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Monopoly, twenty one, checkers, and chess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Mister Fred Blassie in a breakfast mess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Let's play Twister, let's play Risk. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

See you in heaven if you make the list. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Man on the Moon

Hey Andy, did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?

Hey Andy, are you goofing on Elvis? Hey baby, are we losing touch?

If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon

If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool

Man on the Moon

Moses went walking with the staff of wood. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Newton got beaned by the apple good. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Mister Charles Darwin had the gall to ask. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Man on the Moon

Hey Andy, did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?

Hey Andy, are you goofing on Elvis? Hey baby, are you having fun?

If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon

If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool

Man on the Moon

Here's a little agit for the never-believer. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Here's a little ghost for the offering. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Here's a truck stop instead of Saint Peter's. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Mister Andy Kaufman's gone wrestling (wrestling bears). Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Man on the Moon

Hey Andy, did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?

Hey Andy, are you goofing on Elvis? Hey baby, are we losing touch?

If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon

If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool

And finally, monsieur, a wafer-thin mint

monty python

I was going to run a 16 miler this weekend, but stopped short at 14 miles. The French toast I had for breakfast was beginning to expand in my stomach and I was starting to feel not so good at around 12 miles. It wasn’t the brightest idea to wolf those down right before my run, but I couldn’t resist those syrup-laden carbs at 8am. I was ready to employ my meal strategy for getting me through this long run, but food was far from appealing to me.

Some people use landmarks to get them past certain mile posts, but I use a three-course meal a la Pfitz. So for a typical 18 mile run, I’m thinking salad the first five miles. For me, this is usually a nice Caesar salad. It’s simple and light. I like the contrast of the crunchy croutons against the leafy romaine. These are really my warm-up miles which set the stage for my run.

If this all goes well, I move onto the next course, which is meat and “potaytoes”. This is typically the bulk of my run and I try to do this at about 20% slower than marathon pace. So, a nice medium-well steak will do. No gushing red stuff please. A few cooked potatoes with some tossed-in veggies on the side.

Now, if everything is still going smoothly and I haven’t stuffed myself yet, then there should be some room for dessert. This is usually the last 5 miles of the long run where I crank up the pace to 10% below race pace, my favorite part if I can make it this far. So, I’m usually thinking a nice home-made pie. Maybe strawberry/rhubarb with a little whipped cream on top.

Strangely enough, this mental game has helped me get through some of my tough long runs in my last training cycles. I try to really focus on breaking up the run into different segments of varying lengths and paces and insert a diversion into the equation. This makes it interesting and takes my mind off the running a bit.

I’ve also tried this strategy in some of my races, except all at race-pace. However, for the Chicago marathon last year, I was thrown out of the restaurant in the middle of my T-bone steak due to a fire breaking out in the kitchen. And for the Phoenix marathon this year, I scarfed out on hors d’oeuvres and never quite made it to dessert. Then finally at Boston, I was able to really enjoy the full experience of a well-paced meal.

Of course, there have been occasions where I totally throw this out the window and hit the buffet table. Then, it’s a free for all.