Tag Archives: Celiac Disease

ZERO Week (almost over)

The final week before a marathon (or any goal event really) is both an awesome time and stressful time. You’re excited and you’re fit (hopefully), but by resting more than usual you feel not-so-fit. You’re excited to run the marathon, but on the other hand it’s a marathon, it’s so LONG and it gets so darn difficult…and so on and so forth. There are more opportunities for ambivalence than a political convention. For many people yesterday was the peak of these mixed-feelings as it was the 3rd anniversary of 4-15-2013, and the deaths of 3 people (later, 4), with 260 people sustaining injuries, and also the day when many are flooding into Boston to kick-off 4 days of indulgence in running lore.

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2014: Synchro-Myofacial-Release

One of the things that draws many to marathon running is its duality. It is an individual sporting competition but also a thing that hints at the very definition of community and teamwork. This duality will be the exact driving force behind my own performance this Marathon Monday. I’m going to be running with Meredith. We’ve never actually done a race side by side before. She’s one of the best friends (and humans, period) I’ve ever known. And yes, we’ve logged many hours running side by side, we’ve composed the Great American Novel’s worth of text messages about running, we’ve coached and counseled each other in running and in life, and we’ve run the same races plenty of times. But never 100% together.

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2013: Shakeout run, SoCal Style

After the rough fall season I had with my health, and then totally bonking at the LA Marathon also due to illness, I decided not to go to the Catalina Marathon after all (discussed here). And then, I sort of tanked emotionally and physically (again). Instead of increasing my stress by trying to stick to my training plan for Boston I switched up to a more intuitive style for a couple weeks, and that coincided with racing season kicking off. I love races. Not because I’m particularly competitive really, I just love the feel of races…people are so friendly at them, and I love that while you’re participating in a race from 1 mile to an ultra-marathon that’s all that exists for that period of time: running. It’s good medicine.

Top: "yaaay we're going to run on trails!" Middle: "Yay, we ran on trails" Bottom: muddy happy trail running Bootleggers.

2016: Paleozoic Trail Races Silurian Spring 25k: Top: “yaaay we’re going to run on trails!”
Middle: “Yay, we ran on trails”
Bottom: muddy happy trail running Bootleggers.

 

 

Basically my strategy became: run when I wanted to and do whatever type of run I felt would bring me a psychological boost (while maintaining a minimum of marathon readiness), and I would race for the fun of it. This way, even though I’m feeling heavy, slow, and tired (all the time, more or less), I wouldn’t lose sight of how much I love running, and how much it makes the rest of life manageable.

The Good Life Race 5k: Start coral happy place with Lauren. The last 50 meters, and the start of the women's race. (I'm in the front!)

The Good Life Race 5k:
Start coral happy place with Lauren. The last 50 meters, and the start of the women’s race. (I’m in the front!)

Even once I decided to switch to this love-based running strategy I was consumed with kind of wanting to bow out of Boston this year. Which, well, is a bit out of character for me. What really was going on was that I have gained weight and haven’t been getting enough rest – all related to overall stress I think, and that was being channelled into a complete lack of confidence. 0dcae5b0347e3156b1a13392aa9c3825I spent a lot of  time thinking about all the reasons why it would be better NOT to run Boston this year, and although all of these things are true, it’s embarrassing to admit I nearly committed to a DNS because of them: I don’t have the money to spend on the trip, I’ve gained too much weight to feel good when I run, I have no chance for a PR and it’s been so long that another slow marathon will leave me too frustrated to handle, my gut issues (celiac, colitis, diverticulosis – for those who don’t already know everything about my plumbing) have been unpredictable lately and I don’t want to eat out for 4 days, I have too much work to catch up on….and so on…you see how ridiculous this all was at this point.

Whenever I was talking with people about their running during this time, and especially when talking with Meredith or other close friends, I noticed that all those excuses weren’t present in my mind. So I asked Meredith what she thought about running together. Like, TOGETHER – together. Like, you know, teamwork. But we’re focused on her goals and the purpose of my race is to make her race better (hopefully). She was in! Phew! The magic in that is this will make my race better. It will make my race, period. Ever since making that decision, I’ve been enjoying (almost) every run, and have been so excited for marathon weekend.

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2016: Post Shamrock Shuffle 8k with some BRC essentials.

That’s the beautiful thing, not just within running, but in life. If you put your focus on others, and strive to lift them up. You end up getting lifted up too. In fact, you ‘re really the one getting the better deal.

*AB

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Kelly, always saving the world and stuff.

P.S. I’d be inexcusably remiss if I didn’t note also that for the second year in a row I’m staying with my wonderfully generous and thoughtful friends Kelly and Tish, who live in Boston.  Kelly is running the LONDON MARATHON next weekend! Kelly is also fundraising for VICTA a charity providing support for children with visual impairments. As a personal favor to me, please head to her fundraising page and drop a British Pound or two!

 

Weaknesses, Ambivalence, & a Great 10k

I’m at a week (and a half) in recovery mode: Last week I tried to get a bit more sleep (success), not work a ton of extra hours (moderate success), and ran only 23 total miles. I was feeling a lot more optimistic about the rest of Winter training and going into the Spring racing season. Especially after running the Back On My Feet Mardi Gras 10k on Saturday without falling apart (although it wasn’t without cramping).

The course was .20 short. Whoopsy. Mile 5 was slow because we ran into the 5k..bod and weave isn't in my repertoire.

The course was .20 short. Whoopsy. Mile 5 was slow because we ran into the 5k..bob and weave isn’t in my repertoire.

With honesty I’ve concluded that some of the discomfort and bonkyness I experienced at the LA Marathon wasn’t from having a cold (although that was the biggest contributor and certainly exacerbated things), but also was an illustration of several weak spots in my training and other habits that all reacted at once to the stress of 26.2 miles, on a hilly course, while fighting a lack of rest, a high level of stress, and illness over the past few months while also running at a (for me) high volume.

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Screen shot from thumbnail…used without permission…is marathonfoto really never going to decide to charge a reasonable prices for downloading images?

Also, side note, I’m on my second “rest day” in a row (because of logistics and weather), so it’s plausible I’ve entered a reality distortion based panic where I can’t stop eating, feel 20lbs heavier, and am certain I’m out of shape. You know, the usual.

What are these training weaknesses? In no particular order here are the things I’ve pin-pointed, which if given some attention, it’s realistic to expect I would run (and generally feel) much better:

  1. DIET: True, I maintain a diet that more-or-less keeps me  more-or-less feeling good, and out of the hospital. Having faulty guts  means that I eat much “better” than the average person. But there are several areas where my vices rule me: lots of sugar, lots of coffee, lots of wine. If I just halved my consumption of those three things , I might wake up looking like Shalane… or at least, I’d reliably be able to button my slacks instead of trying to make leggings work-suitable. us-olympic-marathon-trials-results-team-amy-cragg-shalane-flanagan
  2. STRENGTH: I’m as total weak-ass. Figuratively and quite literally. I have very little strength and gave up my weight lifting habit once my weekly mileage went over 40. So, that was like 4 years ago, and now I have all kinds of hip, back, and core issues when I run… because those areas are so damn weak! And, as suggested, I think my ass is pretty wimpy too.
  3. SLEEP: Poor Jorge can share hundreds of anecdotes illustrating how much I struggle in the morning. I’ve been like this my entire life. Doesn’t matter how early I get to bed, my brain, mood, and body take FOREVER to wake up in the morning. If I sleep less than 8 hours (and who has time for THAT?!) it’s worse, and for me sleep debt seems to accumulate very fast and I almost always develop a fever, or catch whatever virus/bacteria is going around – this is what happened in Jan/Feb first the flu then the cold. I was logging only 5-6hrs of sleep per night from Thanksgiving until I got back from LA and said….NOooooooo I can’t take this anymore!
  4. STRESS: Productivity and stress have such a weird relationship. High productivity increases overall stress, but also decreases it… but then if overall stress gets too high then productivity slows down – creating more stress! GAAAAH! This is my life.

    This counts as a whole week's worth of ancillary work, right?

    This counts as a whole week’s worth of ancillary work, right? (and to be clear: this is me NOT Shalane.

  5. CLARITY OF GOALS: For the first time, outside of wanting to break 3:10 in the marathon this year, I don’t really know what I want from running in 2016 … which makes it hard to focus, do the supplemental work, drink less wine,  plan training, and choose races. Which brings me to my next point.

I’m still waffling like crazy over how to proceed in terms of racing and training. More specifically, I can’t decide whether I should go run the Catalina Marathon on March 19th, or stay home and run the Cary March Madness Half Marathon on the 20th (already registered). I registered for Cary on New Years Eve (it sells out within minutes most years), and then last month, very impulsively I entered a giveaway for an entry into the Catalina Marathon. I was really excited when I won! As it says in my entry post, I ran the Eco Marathon in 2013, and LOVED it. I also managed to finish as the first female, and 7th overall… which was an awesome experience. I wrote about it here.FullSizeRenderWhat I failed to consider in my impulsivity, was that this race is 5 weeks after LA and 4 weeks before Boston, and although it’s a comped race entry, I still need to FLY TO CALIFORNIA, which ain’t free. If the weather and sea conditions cooperate I don’t need accommodations because my bother, SIL, nephew and I will go out to the island on their boat. I usually take 36 or so hours to not be sea-sick, but I mean, who sleeps before a marathon anyway? Not me! The bigger concern is running with “sea legs”, basically then you feel sea-sick, but while you’re on land, running a race that is 26 miles with like 4,000ft of elevation gain. Awesome?

Note: not the actual boat.

Note: not the actual boat.

I honestly feel ambivalent, I can get on board with going and with not going. The biggest appeal is an extra visit with my family . I feel too awkward to ask to defer the entry, because, you know. Contest. But I also feel like a douche if i don’t use it. I need to make a decision so I can figure out how to train…

I can’t decide what to do. 

Thanks for hanging in here with me, now it’s time to CROWD-SOURCE this, yay!

What do you think? Catalina: yes or no?  (follow-up question, am I stuck being a jackass no matter how I handle this?)

Reduce training volume by 20% to make time/energy for supplemental work: yes or no?

Give up candy and wine: just kidding, don’t answer this one.

*AB

New pub-trivia facts about Annabelle, and a 5k you should check out

I can't share a running photo, because I haven't been racing! But this is proof positive for you that all else is still in order.

I can’t share a running photo, because I haven’t been racing! But this is proof positive for you that all else is still in order.

Please forgive me the fact that most of this post is a duplicate of what you’ll find on another blog, one that I hope you’ll have an interest in after reading this. I’ve been on a long slow road to getting my blogger mojo back after a rough 2014 in terms of training, racing, and running culture in general. I’ll begin elaborating on these things, as well as the typical over-indulgent posts you subscribe here for, in the near future. In the meantime here are a few “Annabelle Trivia” bits for you to enjoy:

  1. I rarely untie/retie my shoes. My mother has scolded me for this since the day I learned to tie laces in the first place. My running shoes get re-tied maybe once a month on average, and my non-running sneakers maybe twice in their lifetime, if that. *note: sometimes before a race, if I’m nervous, I’ll tie and retie my laces upwards of 15 times – a life lived in extremes.
  2. I AM running the Boston Marathon this year, my 4th shot at the course. I WILL NOT be anywhere near PR shape.
  3. I am still working on being OK with #2
  4. I really enjoy the boxed wine from Target
  5. My favorite foods, in random order are: apples, lasagna, pie (apple, blueberry), single-malt scotch, pickles, Classic Lays potato chips, Skittles, Goat cheese … you can see why I’ve never seen 10lbs within range of my racing weight.
  6. I recently traded in the 1999 Chevy S10 Pickup that I’ve been commuting over 300 miles a week in for 4 years. My spiffy new ride has lots of bells and whistles, and now I have all kinds of data to illustrate that I spend, on average, 15-20 hours per week in my car…no more mystery about my injuries!
  7. I am a race director (mostly self-appointed and title)! I’ve always wanted to be at the helm of an event, and here we go, I’m feverishly trying to expand my skill-set to ensure success (yes, this is me asking if any of you want to join my planning committee).

Why you should register for the Super Sunny 5k today!

It’s nearly Valentine’s Day, and I hope your 2015 is off to a great start! For me, a few notable things come to mind when I check in with my personal goals (in no particular order):

  1. I have created some energizing momentum toward my professional
  2. goals in just the first 5 weeks of the year.
  3. I am, thankfully, 7 weeks into training for the Boston Marathon!
  4. I’m struggling with a couple of health related resolutions I made for 2015…time to find a different motivation!
  5. I’ve witnessed more than a dozen breakthrough moments as GCS staff members and people receiving services work toward their goals!
  6. My job is sometimes hard to understand, sometimes challenging, and always important. I think everyone who works at GCS could say the same, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
  7. I’ve developed a deeper understanding of just how much of a turning-point 2015 might be for the work we do at GCS, both as employees and people receiving services.

Let me elaborate on this last points MILLION dollars, 70 of them. SEVENTY MILLION DOLLARS! For me, this is such a large figure, that it doesn’t seem real, yet at the same time, it sort of terrifies me.

For me, this is such a large figure that it doesn’t seem real—but it does seem terrifying. If you are like me and this figure seems too big to touch, let me bring it closer to home. With the end of the tax increase of 2011, your personal paychecks will increase by a few dollars. Multiply that by all the income-earners in Illinois, and you have over a billion dollars! A portion of this tax money is allocated to providing crucial services to adults with developmental disabilities. More of your paycheck in your pocket means tax revenue decreases. When the tax money decreases, the funding thus decreases.

Currently, GCS sees an annual gap of $300,000 for day-program services alone. That is to say, after financial support from the state and federal departments is exhausted, we need to raise $300K in order to continue to provide quality, progressive, and inclusive support.

Overwhelming, isn’t it? I sure think so! Take a deep breath, because you can make a real impact very easily! Here are two ways to help:

1.)  Contact your legislative leaders! They are the play-makers, and they can’t know what is important to us if we don’t tell them! Use the links below to advocate for those we support, and for that which we believe in, and strive for.

Senate

House

2.)  REGISTER TODAY for the Super Sunny 5k. Your $25 registration fee goes right into filling these funding gaps, and you’ll also have to opportunity to help us raise additional funds in the registration process. Click here to go to our registration page.

With hope and aspiration,

*AB

Catalina Eco Marathon Re-cap

Although I had a record setting amount of nerves on race morning, we found the time to ride a fish.

Although I had a record setting amount of nerves on race morning, we found the time to ride a fish.

The Catalina Eco Marathon on November 9th was my last race for the year. Not my last marathon, my last RACE. No impulsive 5ks, no Turkey Trots, nothing, I am done for 2013. Stay tuned, because I suspect 2014 will be very stocked. Although it is 95% self-applied pressure, I still need a break from the pressure, and the structure of training. You know, things like having a panic attack if I can’t “use the bathroom” at exactly the right moment each day, and zoning out at work, or during a conversation with a friend because I’m trying to re-arrange appointments, meals, and social engagements in order to get key workouts done within the appropriate time-frames.To be honest, I was ready for a break before this training taper began. I guess what I’m trying to articulate is when I finished this race, which meant also finishing two very long training cycles this year, I felt hugely relieved.

I registered for this event at some point between Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve 2012. I was at my folks place in San Antonio along with my brother and his family. My then 5 year old Nephew very innocently asked me, “Aunt Annabelle, when are you going to run a race in California?” I did a marathon guide search for fall marathons in southern California (spring was out as I wanted to PR at Boston). I presented Beck with a few options and he said Catalina was the way to go. Actually, I’m sure he said something much cuter, and probably more clever, I just can’t remember what it was.

Aboard the Catalina Express on marathon eve-day.

Aboard the Catalina Express on marathon eve-day.

I waited too long to write this recap, so I won’t be able to give a proper mile-by-mile, that’s boring anyway, so we’ll play the fun game of trying to provide some of the more interesting, useful or entertaining details. I’m sure there will be lots of words, I am rarely hard up for things to say, but forgive me if I don’t reveal any life-altering beatitudes.

Marathon-Eve (also, my birthday): Meredith said she’d go to Catalina and do the 10k I think way back in January, so the poor woman got to spend a weekend trapped on an island with a solid contingent of the Winters clan, and all my race-finale anxiety, a true test of friendship/run-bud-ship. We got up Friday morning and went with my sister-in-law to drop Beck as school followed by a shakeout run in the Aliso-Woods Canyon.

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After the shakeout we gathered necessary supplies before heading to Dana Point and the Catalina Express.

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We took the ferry over to Catalina in the early afternoon, (FYI passage is FREE on your birthday!) between my nephew’s food restrictions and my own, we opted to bring all our own food for the weekend, with 6 people to feed we definitely hit the luggage quota, and accidentally donated a lemon, or squash (I’m still confused about its identity) to the Pacific.

We trekked up a massive hill to our hotel, then back down it for bib pick-up and a course talk. During the talk as people asked the same anxiety ridden questions about toilets and water that people freak out over at every race, upon which my nervousness reached a nearly unbearable level. In the end, even though the course talk referred to many landmarks I’d never heard of before, I was really glad I went because somehow the landmarks made sense once I was out on the course, and I was able to anticipate some of the terrain changes.

Course talk: landmark, landmark, landmark, don't litter, landmark, BUFFALO AND THEIR BABIES = DANGER, landmark, landmark.

Course talk: landmark, landmark, landmark, don’t litter, landmark, BUFFALO AND THEIR BABIES = DANGER, landmark, landmark, RATTLESNAKES, landmark.

From wake-up until the big reveal after the course talk, Beck was working hard not to tell me what the birthday surprise was they had planned.

But, and I quote “wasn’t it crazy?! That the surprise was brownies and not a cake!” I hadn’t had brownies in over a year. So yes, it was totally crazy, and totally awesome to eat some gluten free (homemade) brownies before bed on my final marathon eve of the year.

The question everyone is dying to ask: Any close encounters with buffalo? Sadly, or happily, no. However, I learned from talking with some people on the ferry back to Dana Point on Sunday afternoon, that a small group of guys just ahead of me had a near miss as a couple of buffalo ran across the trail. My assumption is that they were not charging the runners, but rather, just trying to get the hell away from the humans. By the descriptions from other runners, it’s fairly likely that I didn’t see any of the gigantic wildlife only because I was so focused on the ground beneath and immediately ahead of my feet.

Which paid off because guess what? I didn’t fall. Not even once.

See? No blood, no dirt, no joint damage.

See? No blood, no dirt, no joint damage.

Overall and some key points for those who run this marathon:

Speaking of toilets (sorry, I that was a while ago, but segues are kind of killing me lately), there aren’t many readily available at the start. I was prepared for that to some degree from the course talk, but did expect to find a few on the way to the start. There are two public bathrooms at a children’s park/playground less than a quarter mile from the (nondescript) start line, I think there was a SNAFU with the town and the race because only one was open, and there was very little toilet paper. Fortunately, I travel just about everywhere with wet-wipes so I shared. My family informed me post-race that, evidently, I’d gained a reputation from handing out TP…ah well, we can’t choose our fame.

This course was just about as hard as I expected, but not as difficult and treacherous as some of what you find on the internet will have you believe. Of course, as I came to learn very quickly, much of the potential treachery is in the event of operator error (read: running downhill on trails in flippin’ HARD).

My overall impression is that doing well in this race is less about doing a ton of training on hills, and more about general running fitness, and a stubborn temperament. Of course, I did basically ZILCH hill training, so this may be me reaching for justification…

This is the elevation data from my Garmin, basically looks exactly the same as that on the race website.

This is the elevation data from my Garmin, basically looks exactly the same as that on the race website.

It’s also important to point out that we had absolutely perfect weather conditions. There are some spectacular views while running the ridgeline (well, there are great views as you ascend and descend as well but you’re less likely/able to take them in), with the clear weather we were able to see endlessly out to the Pacific west, as well as the California coastline and San Clemente Island. That said, the rest of the scenery is your typical SoCal fare, which, let’s be honest, can leave a little to be desired, I’ll take the Maine woods over the desert/chaparral hybrid any day.

As I’ve mentioned before one of the things about running being so popular that can be problematic is that at most big races now you might have unpleasant encounters with other people’s ego’s and anxieties. This includes but is not limited to: throwing elbows and shoving at aid stations, swearing loudly, wearing headphones, making sexist remarks…those are just my “favorites”. Well, at this event those things were blissfully absent. Everyone was friendly, supportive and generally there was no jackassery to be found.

Only one dude had headphones, and I can tell you most of what he was listening to because it was audible from a few hundred feet away and we leap-frogged a bit. I’m not shy about my serious disdain for wearing headphones during races, but I can’t even fathom how you justify needing them (or wanting them, for that matter) when you are running an event like this that is 1) very challenging, 2) chock full of friendly people, 3) beautiful, and 4) DANGEROUS YOU IDIOT!

True, this was only mile 6, but my

True, this was only mile 6, but my “clinically depressed middle miles” didn’t occur at this race. Trails and very few humans for the win!

The aid stations were awesome. I can’t think of a better way to articulate it. They were just perfect. They always seemed to appear right when I needed them, the volunteers (assumption) were super proactive, taking my water bottle and filling it, offering to answer questions, and complementing my super-hero outfit. This race has (another assumption as I’ve not done one) the feel of a “traditional” ultra event, small field, basically zero spectators (unless you count the Rangers out there keeping a head count), and wicked stocked aid stations. There was candy, salt, pretzels, WATERMELON (I gave myself side stitches from eating too much of it. TOTALLY WORTH IT), coke (again, indulged, want it at every race now), some kind of energy chew, water, Powerade (or Gatorade, I can’t remember, I never touch the stuff), and I’m sure lots of other stuff.

I guess my nerves were clearly written on my face.

I guess my nerves were clearly written on my face.

My personal performance experience:

I like to call my father before the start of each marathon. We don’t usually say much, but it helps me get my head on straight. I’d already checked to make sure he’d be available 20 minutes before the start for a quick chat (he’d planned to come to Catalina, but caught a wicked virus and had to stay home), but I was so incredibly worked up and nervous that I couldn’t make the call. I was afraid I’d cry, and crying does not pair well with physical exertion, or anxiety, or trying to save face.

Anyway, Meredith, my sister-in-law, and my mother all stayed with me until the gun went off, then went to get Meredith ready for the 10k race which started 30mins later. My brother and Beck went snorkeling while I ran, don’t worry they were at the finish.

Miraculously, all that nervous energy went right into running tunnel-vision once it was time to start moving.

I started this race the way I started the Mount Washington Road Race (recap here) in June: with no pacing strategy, and highly flexible expectations. Six months ago I thought I would go for a podium female finish, but after terminating all my hill and strength training when my right knee went kablooey after falling many times on it, I hesitantly adjusted my goals down to a top 10 overall finish. Then I really came to my senses in the week before the race, adjusted again and decided to go for a top 25 overall, top 10 females finish.

Spoiler: Meredith and I both took first female in our events.

Spoiler: Meredith and I both took first female in our events.

Making goals and setting expectations for this race was actually a pretty murky process which translated to me spending several hours looking up various stats and races online. Because of the exposed terrain of this course, there have been several years where the course is re-routed because of weather, also individual performances are highly impacted (like at any marathon, but more so) by the temperature, humidity (or lack thereof), and wind. And not just the weather on race day, but the weather over the summer/early fall season.

Also like the MWRR I started with the plan to run until I had to walk. That is, I did not plan ahead when I would walk. As it happens, I took my first walk break in mile 16, when a fellow runner (hi ROB!) said “don’t be afraid to walk”, he was either presenting an olive branch because he saw me wavering, or it was a natural reaction to the approximately 17 questions I had just asked him. He’d been chatting off and on with a group of 3 men that I leap-frogged with 3 or 4 times. By mile 19 this “gang” of 5 was spread out enough that I didn’t see any of them until the finish area.

Speaking of mile 19, I walked the “Catalina Crush” hill. The damn thing has stone steps build into it. I took one look and decided to walk in lieu of taking a break at the top.

I didn't take a break, but this photo is of my actual first running steps after

I didn’t take a break, but I’m certain this photo is of my actual first running steps after “summiting”.

My new friend Rob, told me that he never worries about the last five miles of this race (I don’t know how many times he’s done it, but he seemed really familiar with both it, and also the Conservancy marathon that is held in the spring). I’m sure he provided some justification, but I can’t remember what else he said. I knew the course started to double back on the trails we came in on somewhere near mile 22, and I was really looking forward to it.

At mile 22 I knew I was in 12 or 13th position overall, and I’d been the lead female from the start. I also knew that I was getting increasingly clumsy going downhill, and increasingly shuffely on the uphills, so I told myself I’d do my best to pull into the top 10 overall, and if that meant 1, 2, or hell 5, female, that’d be OK.

I’d been smart the whole race, running by feel, maintaining an even breathing effort (challenged, but even), drinking a lot of water (90+ ounces by the end), taking salt, and taking gels. And, most importantly, I remembered to look around me and enjoy the views, oh, and to take deep breaths and smell the dirt (I LOVE the smell of dirt).

My reward to myself at mile 22 was to not get anxious, to embrace that any finish was an amazing finish, and to smile at my family when I got there.

Yah, that all sounds great, doesn’t it?

This is me, dressed as the Eleventh Doctor, I felt like we needed a picture, things were getting serious. You're welcome.

This is me, dressed as the Eleventh Doctor, I felt like we needed a picture, things were getting serious. You’re welcome.

Now do you want to know what really happened?

Well, I did all that hippy-shit for a while, but then I got to about mile 23.5, where things are decidedly downhill for the rest of the race, I become utterly convinced there was a women right on my heels. And I went totally crazy. I ran as hard as I could, which was really stupid, and I really don’t understand how I didn’t wipe-out, unless of course I did, and I am now operating in some really perverse parallel existence. The last nearly 2 miles (I think?) of trails is a pretty steep downhill grade, lots of long switchbacks, and lots unsure footing. But I let go and felt like I was sprinting because I was CONVINCED she was right there, I swear I could HEAR her.

I’d been in the first female position for 23.5 miles and there is no way I’d be all honkey-dory-I-did-my-best-oh-well if I was passed now. The trail sort of hurls you out into some weird campground and then onto the road (still very much downhill) with less than a mile to go. I thought the finish was at the same spot as the start was so I absolutely ran as hard as I could.

I was extremely excited to learn I got free shoes (La Sportiva mountain runners), elated even.

I was extremely excited to learn I got free shoes (La Sportiva mountain runners), elated even.

Then I ran right through where the start line had been, and there was no finish line in sight. It occurred to me after a few seconds of panic that it made a lot of sense if the finish for the marathon and 10k were in the same place, and that was about another half mile, or a bit more, down the road, at the bottom of the hill (I then remembered being told this at the course talk. Face-palm).

My all-out pace began to slow and the finish line was apparently never going to appear, I kept looking behind my, nearly falling every time, still absolutely sure there was a woman RIGHT THERE, it never registered that I couldn’t see a single runner behind me, not one. Just one invisible woman.

Finally, I heard the voices of Meredith and my family, and little Beck ran out from the sidewalk, I tried to get him to finish with me, but A) I was having a hard time steering my ship (FYI the ship = my body) and B) as he later told me “he didn’t want to get in the way of other runners” … I guess we shared the same hallucination.

Shortly after finishing I went into the water. Meredith had read online that this was a tradition, and she must be right because we weren’t the only ones. It felt awesome!

Better than an ice bath. WAY better.

Better than an ice bath. WAY better.

I swam around for a while, (after taking off my medal and sunglasses), then we trekked, once again, up the giant hill to our hotel to have some beer, food, and a shower before the awards.

In the end, I had 7 minutes between myself and the next woman. I finished my first trail marathon in 4hrs 7minutes, 1st female, and 10th overall. I met a blog reader (HELLO AL!!!) at the awards, and a blogger on the ferry on Friday (HELLO BRANDEI!), for both of them this was their first marathon. I am so impressed that I’ve spent all this time writing also trying to come up with something clever and meaningful to shout out to them, but all I have it “WOW, so freaking cool!” And finally, my brother, sister-in-law, mother, nephew, and friend were at the finish, and that really made it unforgettable.

I think  I could go on more and more, but here’s a few more photos to finish things off.

Sunset dorky photo shoot.

Sunset dorky photo shoot.

Beck :)

Beck 🙂

Catalina 10k Champ, Meredith.

Catalina 10k Champ, Meredith.

*AB

What it’s really all about: Chicago Marathon 2013 Recap

(Note: I began writing this a few days after the event, but after 5 drafts I haven’t been pleased with the result. So I decided to just be brief -haha, for me- and make my basic point. Please share your stories of what running a marathon is really all about for you in the comments.)

DM CM post

pain joy 2

Marathons and marathon runners often get a bad rap. Some of the negative reputation surrounding marathon’s and endurance athletes is the same as what draws some people to the sport; it is an “individual” as opposed to “team” sport, training is often done in solitude, and to make improvements, sometimes even small ones, hours and hours of training are required, which means training can have a ripple effect on the athlete’s entire life. These things give marathoners a reputation for being selfish, self-centered, and self-interested.

I'm certain I'd individually come in 1st place for anything at a major international sporting event.

I’m certain I’d never individually come in 1st place for anything at a major international sporting event.

Ready to take our first racing singlets for test run!

Ready to take our first racing singlets for test run!

I can actually agree or at least understand, some of the complaints surrounding very large half marathon and marathon events, especially with there being one or more going on it seems every weekend in or near major cities nationwide. Streets are shut down, public parks, paths, and trails get monopolized, there’s sometimes a lot of clean up needed, some are franchise and commercial events so not necessarily giving much back to the community of a charity organization, and so on.

However, if you are reading this and aren’t a runner, or don’t live with one, or if you are a runner and you haven’t thought about what running means to you and your life, let me tell you something, you can’t pour your heart and energy into training for and running marathon’s without help and support from a whole lot of people. My new running friend, and teammate, Declan, who just made his marathon debut (in 3:17!) articulates some of what I mean in a blog post here.

I've never run with someone at a goal race before. Declan was a perfect race buddy, but it's possible we wasted energy with our enthusiasm.

I’ve never run with someone at a goal race before. Declan was a perfect race buddy, but it’s possible we wasted energy with our enthusiasm. Photo credit: Maggie Wolff

Until about a year and a half ago, I trained alone, travelled to races alone, raced alone, and then came home and outside of my parents didn’t really talk about running with anyone. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that when I started developing friendships with runners, I immediately started to get faster, and fell more in love with running.

On April 15, 2013 and the month that followed many non-runners became familiar with a quote from a marathon legend, Kathrine Switzer, “If you are losing faith in the human nature, go out and watch a marathon.”

The 1967 Boston Marathon. Race official Jock Stemple attempts to remove Switzer from the race. Her running companion (and I think boyfriend) Tom Miller, physically defends her. 5 years later women are officially allowed the compete in the marathon.

The 1967 Boston Marathon. Race official Jock Stemple attempts to remove Switzer from the race. Her running companion (and I think boyfriend) Tom Miller, physically defends her. 5 years later women are officially allowed the compete in the marathon.

It’s a phrase that can be taken as a reference to the perseverance and dedication shown by those running toward their individual goals, it can be illustrated by the hours and hours of time, service, and encouragement given by spectators, and it can be seen in acts of friendship, sportsmanship, teamwork, joy and loyalty shown by competitors.

So rather than detail my own race experience, I’d like to share a few examples of what running really means from the Chicago Marathon 2013. It’s easy to find 100 samples of “inspiration porn” within any marathon event. I’m not trying to minimize the efforts of the amazing people who are fundraising for heart-breaking causes, and the people who preserve through physical, emotional, and situational hurdles most of us can barely fathom, but only trying to say that every marathoner who pours their heart into this sport is an inspiration.

Every single mile is meaningful, and every challenge is meaningful.

A marathon is about finding and embracing joy even when things fall apart. Scott Laumann and Evan Rosendahl are fellow Chicagoans who run with The Track and Trough Athletic Union. Following how these guys train and race, and the matter of fact, yet focused way they approach running, totally helps me to stay focused on long-term goals, and I aspire to race with their sportsmanship and class. Both of these men are capable (and have) run marathons firmly in the mid-2 hours range, and when their races fell apart at Chicago they spent the final miles of the race having fun and hanging on to finish with each other.

Evan and Scott

A marathon is about showing someone that you believe in them even when they have stopped believing in themselves. My friend Lynton (as seen above), jumped in just before mile 20 wearing an injured friend’s bib (thanks Ogi!), I was really struggling, and indeed, evidently, not making much sense during that final 10k. But Lynton stayed right with me, pulling me along, and calling me out on my bullshit.

mile 23 whiney fina;

What does running mean to me? It’s something that makes me feel good, but it also make me feel helpless sometimes, I am compelled to do it. Running means relief and solace, when I’m running there is nothing else. For me, it is the very definition of mindfulness. It means perseverance, and it means love. I’ve never had such good friends and known such amazing people, as the runners I know.

*AB

Running is hard

Training for the Chicago Marathon (which, FYI, is this Sunday) since completing the No Frills Marathon last month has been a little challenging. Nothing hugely or meaningfully catastrophic has occurred, just lots of hiccups. To put it another way, I haven’t been bitten by a bear, just by lots of fleas, and scratching them is tedious and I’m tired.

I’ll catch you up on my training and some of the multiple flea-bites while also bringing to you a message I’ve wanted to deliver for a long time:

RUNNING IS HARD!

This is what Meredith and I say to each other when one of us “overreacts’ to a bad workout, or when the weather is conspiring against us, or when some ding-dong or another makes some remark that minimizes our efforts. It can be an extremely validating and calming thing for a runner to think about.

DM 10-8

Running.Is.Hard. This is my Daily Mile entry from this morning.

Running is hard for some obvious reasons, such as, it takes a lot of energy to run. I don’t mean that a prerequisite for being a runner is that you’re a crazy-eyed-always-moving-fast-talking-knee-shaking sort of personality, I mean, actual energy must be exerted to move your body overground at a more rapid pace than you’d normally take to say, transport yourself from the car to the grocery store.

When your goals begin to move past running for fitness, or “to eat”, to wanting to get faster and stronger, sometimes workouts can be so challenging (read: HARD) that you don’t realize that they were a breakthrough session until much later. This is my Daily Mile entry from about 2.5 weeks ago, I was totally “meh, typical fair” about it until I got the flu last week and missed my final chance for a goal-pace test run.

Running is so hard, that it becomes impossible to talk about your life without talking about running, or running without talking about your life.

Running is so hard that it becomes impossible to talk about your life without talking about running, or running without talking about your life.

Pet peeve alert: I HATE it when people say “I run so that I can eat/because I love food”, in fact, I call B.S.. Eating is TOO EASY and running is TOO HARD for that to really be the behavioral contingency at play.

Running is also hard for some reasons that you may not think about, and that people actually lie about. Here’s one example, speaking of food, if you want to get better at running, you cannot eat all of the cupcakes, or even any cupcakes, on anything that resembles a regular basis. In this case “cupcake” is equal to the following (not even close to exhaustive) list: donuts, frappachinos, brownies, cookies, pizza, soda, bagels and all the ridiculous toppings, pretty much everything on “Pinterest”, anything Racheal Ray put cheese on recently, mimosas every weekend and beers everyday, bags of candy corn, adult-head-sized cinnabons, or brunch 2-4 times per week. I mean you can, but good luck running that off, and good luck not puking or hating running while you try.

Running is even harder if your diet is crappy.

Last Monday, running was hard.

Last Monday, running was hard.

Running is hard because even though running marathons, indeed running any race distance, has become a wildly popular, there is still a lot of discouragement that you’ll face based on a misunderstanding of how the human body best operates. “You’re tired? Oh you shouldn’t run”, “You’re stressed? You should stop running so much.”, “Oh, XYZ hurts? You definitely need to stop running”. There are probably 100 comments that could be added to this list, and the fact is, that running helps make nearly all of the BETTER, not WORSE.

A thing that makes running hard is that you learn how to decide when you run even though something hurts, because the running actually helps it heal.

Two weeks after the No Frills Marathon: A thing that makes running hard is that you learn how to decide when to run even though something hurts, because the running actually helps it heal.

Running is hard because as you start achieving your goals, and start getting faster, people make assumptions. It minimizes a runner’s hard work when you attribute their successes to a god-given talent, saying, “oh, they’re fast”, the same way you’d say “oh, they have brown eyes”. When I was in high school and college, in New Hampshire, I had this one 5 mile loop that I ran hundreds of times, and no matter how hard I tried, I never could finish it in under 48 minutes. That’s how frustrating it was, I remember that it wasn’t 45 minutes, or 5o, but 48 that I got stuck on. The last time I ran that loop was about 10 years ago.

The other side of the counter-intuitive decision making to train through some injuries and illnesses, is that other required backing off. The flu, and colitis flare-ups for example, which means this was actually was my last solid workoutbefore Sunday's race. Running is at its hardest when it's unpredictable. But  I do know, that after this workout, next time I go to NH, I breaking that 48min barrier!

The other side of the counter-intuitive decision to train through particular injuries and illnesses, is that others require backing off. The flu, and colitis flare-ups for example, which means this was actually was my last solid workout before Sunday’s race. Running is at its hardest when it’s unpredictable. But I do know, that after this workout, next time I go to NH, I breaking that 48min barrier!

My first 10k, where I felt like I was running like the wind, my pace was over 9 minutes per mile, it has taken me almost 15 years (of on and off effort) to get my 10k PR pace down from 9:16 to 6:39, and a whole hell of a lot of runners are faster than that.

Like this one:

Hearing what the pro's have to say should be a required element to training.

Hearing what the pro’s have to say should be a required element to training.

Running is hard, and to master it (whatever that means to you) takes a lot of practice, strategy (I don’t just mean for the workouts, I mean to manage it with all the other parts of life too), and patience. There is a cultural oddity in this now HUGE population of runners, where, even though a runner is training hard, and making improvements they should be (and perhaps really are) very proud of, they will look at another runners bad workout and say “oh, man, you’re shitty run is still faster than my best mile!”. I know that the intent of comments like that is very positive. But I always cringe, because running is just too hard for people to self-deprecate like this.

Running is hard because contrary to what MANY people will tell you, you can tell very little about a person's running by how many mile they log each week.

Running is hard because contrary to what MANY people will tell you, you can tell very little about a person’s running by how many mile they log each week.

Comments like that minimize the efforts of both runners, the faster one and the slower one. Because at an equal effort, runner A might run a 5 minute mile, and runner B might run a 12 minute mile. It’s still EQUAL EFFORT. What I’m saying is that it is OK for someone who usually runs a 7 minute pace to come back from bad run that had a pace of 8:45 and call it a bad run. And it’s ok for a runner who usually runs an 8:45 pace to come back from a run that had a pace of 8:30 and call it the most amazing run ever. And neither runner should feel at all shy about either statement. Because running is hard enough! One of the hardest things for new runners to understand is that above all else running and training (especially for the marathon) is all relative.

So whether you run a 14 minute mile, or a 4 minute mile, you better own that ability, or I am going to internet slap you silly!

Running is so hard that even if it’s their favorite way to pass 20 minutes or  several hours, and even if they are relentlessly pursuing a goal they are passionate about, nearly every runner really REALLY looks forward to a day with no running now and then!

See? Haaaard.

See? Haaaard.

*AB

No Frills Eve in Minocqua

Tomorrow, this will the the 22 mile mark of the No Frills Marathon!

Tomorrow, this will be the 22 mile mark of the No Frills Marathon!

Yesterday, run-buddy Meredith and I drove from Chicago to Minocqua, Wisconsin. Not getting lost was a hugely good omen for tomorrow’s race. We’re fairly certain that the same trip last year took us twice as long.

The scenery was OK. Just, ok.

The scenery was OK. Just, ok.

We arrived at about 4pm and spent a while catching up with Meredith’s folks, then hit some golf balls (they live on a golf course, which tomorrow’s marathon course runs through). We had a great time, and have already started to strategize how we can incorporate golf, or the Diversey driving range into our lakefront training runs. I think my chiropractor and yoga instructor will both approve, as they agree I have serious deficits when it comes to spinal mobility (hopefully they also won’t mind my liberal simplification of the issue).

We went for a late dinner:

martys north

At dinner, I had an experience that has been played out so many times I don’t understand why people don’t talk about it more. I’ve been more symptomatic over the past couple of months and am planning to commit to really getting the last questionable elements out of my diet when I get home from this trip, to see if I feel better.

Anyway, the restaurant last night had several items on the menu marked as “Gluten Free”. But really all they did was replace wheat pasta with gluten free pasta, the sauces and other elements still had gluten or in the case where I asked, the chef was using wheat flour…so, the meals marked as “gluten free” were absolutely not free of gluten! Had I eaten them, even with the pasta substitution, I would have gotten very sick.

Because I know you’re curious: I had broiled haddock and a baked potato. It was delicious!

In other food news, Meredith’s mother is an absolute angel! I had a big bowl of cereal for dessert when we got back to the house. Before the Boston Marathon this year, I had a terrible time getting enough carbohydrates in the 72hrs before the race, and ended up eating a whole box of gluten free cereal, in a panic I should add, the night before. So I laughed (with joy) when, without any suggestion, she had this waiting for me when we arrived.

So good!

So good!

Back to the marathon!

I’m having a hard time accepting that tomorrow kicks off my 3 marathons in 3 months project! Meredith and I are psychologically prepping ourselves for a really hard race; it’s going to be very humid tomorrow, potentially stormy, and warmer than we’d like. BUT, 20 miles of the race are on a beautiful trail that runs through a pine forest…so my complaints are at a minimum.

6:50am Fog over the 7th hole. 24hrs (and 10 minutes) until the start of No Frill 2013!

6:50am Fog over the 7th hole. 24hrs (and 10 minutes) until the start of No Frills 2013!

When we start running tomorrow I will only have run 23 miles since last Friday. My training plan had called for closer to 55 in that time. But my body needed a lot of recovery time after I fell last Friday. And although I know that I made the right adjustments, and my fitness shouldn’t be at all affected, the drastic change in my routine, and my plan, has really shaken my confidence.

What’s counter-balancing this hiccup however, is that my fundraising effort is off to an amazing start! Check it out here.

WOW!!!

WOW!!!

I am so incredibly inspired by how many people have stepped up to support Garden Center Services, and I’m comically (as in: Poor Meredith is forced to listen to me talk and talk and talk about it) excited to continue this through to November 9th when I’ll climb those massive hills on Catalina Island for marathon number 3!

*AB

Things are piling up.

I meant to post this the other day, and forgot because I put it on Facebook.

2013 bib

At Boston your BIB number and Wave/Corral assignments are based on your entry time. So it translates basically into a seeded position, with the faster runners up front. A part of my mostly arbitrary definition of mastery when it comes to running, and marathons specifically, is to be placed in the first corral at Boston. So I guess 2013 won’t be my last year to line up in Hopkinton. But hopefully it will be my last year without a red bib.

This year I'll try not to look like such a nerd. And I won't wear my "nun uniform" as my run-buddies call it.

This year I’ll try not to look like such a nerd. And I won’t wear my “nun uniform” as my run-buddies call it.

What I consider “mastery” of the sport of running (age-grouper style of course), seems to be picking up new criteria every few months. So the thought  I had in 2010 that “I’ll just qualify for Boston, run Boston, then be ‘over’ marathons” has now become a novel of if-then scenarios.

Until last night I hadn’t  been for a run since Monday night, when I did my tempo run on a treadmill next to my running buddy Erin. If it hadn’t been for her I would have skipped that run too because my insides are in revolt (again) and it was windy, wet, and miserable on the lakefront.

If you sit and think about it for a moment, you’ll realize that means I only went 2 days without running. Which is probably, for most people (specifically those not training for a marathon, or a goal race of any distance for that matter), nothing more than evidence that I am neurotic and maybe even just looking for things to sit and fret over.

I assure you that isn’t the case. But as a goal race gets closer, every run altered, targeted missed or  even achieved, each dietary misstep, or those mundane chores of life that become harder to fit it when you’re spending so much time and energy training, all start to pick up extra meaning.

I missed two days of running because firstly, I’ve been using those free hours when I’d usually jump to get my workout in to sleep. Secondly, my unique concoction of inflammatory bowel diseases decided to throw some new symptoms at me, which made me A) freak the hell out, and B) made running very painful.

I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong, but the gluten-free diet isn’t yet shaping up to be the magic-bullet for my Colitis and Celiac symptoms that everyone seems to tout. But I was prepared for it to perhaps take 6 months. Some symptoms really have cleared up to near zero levels, but others haven’t.

I honestly don't know the source for this. A coworker  posted it on Facebook weeks ago and I thought it was hysterical.

I honestly don’t know the source for this. A coworker posted it on Facebook weeks ago and I thought it was hysterical.

In one of those acts of mystical timing that friends sometimes have, I got an email from a friend who trained with the Boston Bound group last year but has since moved to the left coast (Hi Andy!), that totally gave me an attitude adjustment. Andy (whom I still hold responsible for my 10k PR and first ever win) sent me a message on Monday asking how training was going and his responses to my response motivated me to step back from the edge when I got home from work yesterday. I was very seriously considering taking the whole week off of running, eating a few bags of Cadbury Mini-eggs and dealing with the consequences by cracking open a Wine Cube and a sixer of Whiskider. 

Anyway, never fear, I’ll stick to my training plan, the Gluten-Free diet, and the weight loss effort. Just because something doesn’t get you to the goal immediately, doesn’t mean it isn’t working.

Now if only I could get a grip on the other stressors that seem to be piling up:

runner laundry

*AB

A Porta-Potty Miracle and “Like” Challenge #3

Reader Advisory: I am going to mention poop. If that bothers you, turn back now. Here’s a story of my candy-love, my guts, and last night’s run/”like” challenge.

Background:  In 2009 I was diagnosed with an uncommon form of Colitis and also Celiac Disease,  at first I followed a prescribed diet, then I didn’t. Now, after nearly two years of masking symptoms with medication (over the counter and prescriptions) and accepting chronic discomfort, I’ve taken the responsible route and gone gluten-and-mostly-trigger-free in 2013.  In nut-shell, often when I eat stuff, my immune system wages war on my digestive tract, and I have a pity party.

Introduction: I love these

This delicious candy is only available for the short window of February and March each year, so last year I consumed probably  a dozen bags of them. I even saved two bags and packed them to have after running Boston last April. True story, ask my mother, she shared them with me while I nursed a hangover the day after the marathon. Yes, I was more focused on the hangover than any running related issues.

Anyway, I saw they were stocked at Target and the grocery store on Tuesday, and couldn’t stop thinking about them! So yesterday morning I did about 15 minutes of internet research which rendered the following results (which may or may not be accurate):

  • In the UK Cadbury mini-eggs are bonafide gluten free
  • In the US Cadbury is operated by Hersey and they use leftover ingredients from bigger candies to make anything mini- which means that the ingredients list is a guesstimate…
  • Hersey maintains that the mini-eggs candies are 20ppm Gluten (I’m not totally confident I am saying that right) which is technically “gluten free” by the US labeling standards.
  • Blogs and other GF resource sites offer totally mixed information regarding the “gluten risk” of Cadbury mini-eggs.

So I came to the only rational decision possible. I bought a bag while driving between meetings.

The rising action: In an impressive show of self-restraint I ate EXACTLY 14 mini-eggs (a serving size is 12) over the course of 90 minutes. 1:30-3pm

I felt a little stirring in my stomach, but it was the sort of sensation that can A) be ignored, and B) be many different things. Foreshadow: my body does not consider 20ppm to be gluten free.

So I went on my run as planned at about 5:30pm. As soon as I started running repeats at 5k-ish pace, my abdomen started to cramp.

Obviously this was a totally awesome development.

I was able to breathe through it and nail (woohoo!) the repeats, the recovery intervals, however, were a little stressful as it became clear that I would need to locate a bathroom. And soon.

Once I was into my cool-down (3 miles from home), the relaxed running pace was making my abdomen cramp more, and my entire GI tract was now very active. I changed my course so that my cooldown would be cut short by about a mile, and I’d come across a few places where I knew there were bathrooms within a mile (Starbucks, Walgreens etc).

Turns out, I didn’t have a mile.

The Climax: I was probably less than a half mile from public restroom paradise when I had to totally stop moving. My colon was going to cleanse itself regardless of my feelings, plans, or geographical location.

My next thought was actually something like “auw, maaan, now I am going to have to retract all those snarky “pooper” comments I made following Boston last year…” (Seriously, that event had to have set a record for people evacuating their bowels in their running shorts.)

I then realized I had a very rapid decision to make, I could:

1.) let things go behind some nearby trees that weren’t anything like a “grove”, and risk complete and utter public humiliation, and/or being ticketed for indecent exposure or something worse…let’s be frank, I’d deserve a worse charge for what was about to happen.

2) attempt to make it to a toilet, which would inevitably mean destroying a perfectly lovely pair of Lululemon tights. (and further public shaming as I had nearly 2 miles of city streets to cover before I got home)

It’s actually been quite a while since I’ve been so rapidly and severely struck with an episode of tooth chattering diarrhea, and at this point I wasn’t sure but I might actually start vomiting before I made decision.

I could taste metal.

And, I ‘m not proud of this, but I started to cry. Which then brought a memory of the summer of 2009 (pre-diagnosis). I’d had chronic stomach pain, fevers, and diarrhea for about 6 weeks and after 3 doctors was convinced I must be having a mental break, or I was dying. I got extremely sick in the bathroom in the grocery store, and the toilet clogged. As I was walking to find maintainance, a women came running after me and (I swear she was) yelling “Jesus, go back and flush the toilet!”. I left my grocery cart and ran home, bawling. I was 27 years old, and had never felt so humiliated.

All of these thoughts probably happened over 2 minutes or less. But if felt like ages. I standing in between the path and the parking lot near Diversey Harbor.

In one last desperate hope for a sanitary and not devastating solution I turned 360 degrees and actually laughed with glee.

There, near the empty harbor, not 400 feet away were 2 porta-potties. I shuffled and gagged (ayup) my way over to them. They were positioned under a light and even had a fresh roll of toilet paper! It was a runner/IBD fantasy come to life!

Sometimes, an outhouse is as welcome as a winning lottery ticket.

My stomach hurt the rest of the way home, but I knew they were empty threats. (after such violent displays of warfare, I usually get at least 40 minutes of respite)

Epilogue: “Like” Challenge #3

After all of this drama I was home and ready to face this week’s “Like” challenge:

Please forgive me the typos.

Please forgive me the typos.

It appears, based on only the 3 weeks of doing this, that people are more likely to react to the more painful of exercise movements. So I added up blog entry “likes”, the Facebook original posting, and the shared posting and totaled 43.

sit up

43 seemed conservative enough, and it was. Except that the last 5 push-ups were really difficult, and Jorge, in a not so kind show of support, dropped and performed 40 chest-to-the-ground push-ups in the time it took me to do that last 5. Jerk.

push up low

I realize these pictures don’t exactly prove that I did all of these. But, well. Oh well. I did.

push up high

People have offered some pretty good, and painful sounding, suggestions for upcoming “Like” Challenges. Share more! I’ll Post the next one on Monday.

In the meantime, stay injury free and safe in this stormy weather!

*AB