and then I just walked out the back door and started running.

There’s something about his sport. 

Lately as I've struggled, I wondered if I really loved it, or if was in love with the idea of it. 

Imagine that a few months ago you could run 26.2 miles in about 4 hours, and now you're struggling to keep yourself upright on a 1 hour exertion.  Well, that's what I live.  Is it hard to love something when you're not good at it?

But then....  

I just walked out the back door and started running.  Just like that.  I didn’t plan a route, nor did I even decide how far I would go.  I just needed to think.  I needed to reflect on some things in my life and the only way I know how to do that is to run.

There's no drama in my run.

I may be the queen of drama but there's no drama in my run.  We are just good together.  We don't have to think about flat tires, water bottles, leaky goggles or stuffy smelly gym air.  We can go in a group and vent and babble about the drama, or we can go as just a pair.

A girl and her run.

So, while I may have glanced at my watch a few times on my run, to get an idea of how far I was roaming, I did not concern myself with my pace.  I just ran.

I listened to the sound of my breath, hypnotic and strong, and savored the fact that I am able to do this.  I felt my legs start to tire, and so I pushed them to the end, but I didn’t punish them for their tiredness.

They’ve been busy this week. 

My run didn't end with a cheer leading squad, fireworks, or even a stolen kiss in a doorway.  It ended with a few lungfuls of air and a large glass of water on my back deck.  A silent celebration of completion that probably had less to do with the miles logged than it had to do with the satisfaction of sweat burning my eyes.

I admit.  There are days when I run to prove something.  And those other days when I just want to go somewhere under my own power.

But sometimes I just run, so I don't run away. 

~savor the run~

An Apology to Depression

Dear Depression,


I apologize for my false accusations.  I said that I would ignore you when you demand that I lay down in bed for a midday nap.  And I have.  I have been ignoring you like a skinny bitch ignores Red Velvet cake with homemade White Chocolate Icing.  And the exhaustion has gotten worse.


Please accept my sincerest apologies.


Regards,
gba gf

On Tuesday I crawled up my stairs and into my bed after my shower left me too tired to stand.  I napped for an hour.  After preparing dinner, I, again, needed a thirty minute rest before I could help my husband put our kids to bed.  I've been going to bed at 8:30 and getting up around 6:30 in an effort to try to shake this exhaustion.  I could fall asleep right now, typing this, because I went to the grocery store and bringing in the food has worn me down.

So when I say the tiredness has gotten "worse", what I think I mean to say is that it's now "much worse" and impacting my daily life.

In lab class we "assess" each other all the time.  It's how we practice.

On Thursday I discovered an auditory canal infection in a classmate.  On Thursday that same student looked at the membranes of my eyes and mouth, and called our professor over for an opinion.  She was quite firm with her evaluation that I need to go to the MD ASAP.

She got a little bit in my face and started asking me pointed questions about my blood counts and hct #'s and I had to finally look at her and say, "I don't know".  She seemed a bit alarmed by the fact that I am feeling and (apparently) looking "like this" and not getting my a** to the Md PRONTO.

I guess, after her lecture, I felt the same way.  Why am I being obtuse?  Only now that it's time to walk out the door, and I feel ridiculous.  I'm not sick, I'm just tired.  Too tired to stand up while I write this, but seriously, aren't all nursing-student-mother-runners tired by Friday?

I guess not quite this bad, huh?

I know it's time to stop ignoring all this.

Md suspects 2 things, both simple and neither life threatening.  So, according to him, he really hopes its one of those two, because they're both fixable.  

I'm not a Coach

Warning:  I'm not a coach.

I tweak training plans, write plans for runners, make plans to run, share plans I've written, dissect plans written by other people, follow plans given by my coach, or don't follow them... but don't tell him that... And for the most part before I do these things I remember to preface it with:

I'm not a coach.

I freely share my thoughts on this sport, why I run the way I do, what I think contributes to my injuries, what I think I could have done to prevent them, what my treatments are that work and what treatments I feel are a waste of time, and when I'm running well and injury free, why I think I'm running well and injury free...

But I'm not a coach.

I have 20,000 opinions on cross training, which ones work best for me and how much I do them and for what duration and what I wish I could do more often and what I will never do again because of one thing or another....

But, again, I am not a coach.

This week though, I think I forgot that for a few minutes.  I wrote and shared a 10K training plan... er, or two.  Then I tweaked a marathon plan for a friend of a friend, and then shared a previously tweaked plan for another friend.  I was solicited on FB by someone I don't know, but who knows someone who met someone who knew me back in the day who was aware that this summer I stressed my hamstring muscle and wanted to know what I did for it.  I told him, but I also said, "If not better in a week, see a real MD cos what I did and what you did might be two different things."  My biggest crime though, was on Tuesday, when I palpated a muscle, fielded "how should I get through my running this week",  and then suggested my friend should visit an MD if "not better by Friday or Saturday"....

THOUGH, THAT TIME I did remind her that "I'm not a coach... this is my experience as a runner and what you are sharing is somewhat alarming."

And one day when I am a coach, I hope that I still have the conscience that I have today, that I'm humble about my opinions.  That I remember that there are always two schools of thought at least, but probably more like 20.  I hope I remember to be cautious with what I say to my friends, their friends, random facebook stalkers, and the people who call me coach.

But for the moment, whenever I say anything, let's all try to remember:  I'm not a coach.  Yet.

Top 10 Reasons....nursing school doesn't suck

10 - Each class we assess a different body system.  About 3 systems in, and I have been diagnosed with Anemia every week... "nursing diagnosis", not "Md diagnosis".   Regardless, I'm a fan of consistency.

 9 - In lab class we practice our skills on the people who are handy.  That is to say, we practice on other students.  My BP, HR and Respirations are normal and healthy... and still normal 10 minutes later... and STILL normal 10 minutes later...

 8- It's OK to get caught wearing the same outfit as your friend.

 7 - Free pass to wear White Shoes before Memorial Day.  My white shoes are HOT!  I mean that literally.  They are warm.  And thank god, too.  With all the 60 degree weather this winter, I'd hate to imagine what I would have done if my shoes weren't keeping me warm.

 6 - Am slowly rebuilding my upper body strength from all these books.

 5- No one even bothers to ask me about my eye twitch any more.

 4 - Raise your hand if you have a FOLEY CATHETER in your book bag.  Go ahead.  Annnnytime you want....  NO?  Well I cannot WAIT to whip that puppy out at a party, cos I think it's going to be the next *in* thing.

 3 - Sense of humor seems really sharp these days... or, at least my classmates seem to think so.  Either that or they're so exhausted they're punchy.
But I'm pretty sure I'm just HILARIOUS.

 2 - Nurses are SEXY.  Well, that's what she said.


 1 - A few weeks ago in my lab partners & I took turns tying each other to beds.  For real.  Did I mention that my lab parter is a 20 something year old cutie?

RULE BREAKING

Today I broke my own rules.

 

My rules for racing are typically something along the lines of, “I would rather have a DNS than a PU”.  That is, I don’t typically like to run a race.  I like to race a race. 

And yet, at 8:19 this morning I found myself squished into a sexy JEEP Wrangler with 11 other runners waiting for the 8:30 start of an 8K I had no intention of racing.  We were parked.  

I went parking with my run and 11 other people…. I may be off topic. 

All I’m going to say is ~runners are weird~ and hot, or warm, whichever you prefer…  ‘Cause after we got out of the JEEP we snuggled in a giant group hug at the start line, and despite the 9 degree wind chill, I wasn’t too cold. 

I’m not trying to say anything here, but I… maybe…  enjoyed the hugging.  Yeah.  May.be.

My personal goals today were something like, “let the pack leave me in the first mile”, “Don’t vom”, and “Try not to suck” all at the same time.

Goals were accomplished.  My A10K “coach” J1of2 decided to hang with me… god knows why.  The air was cold, I am still a little out of shape, and I sounded like a 2pack/day smoker climbing the first hill.  “What can I say, I’m a heavy breather….”.

Damn, that was still hard.

Despite the fact that I was trying to take it "easy", I felt that I struggled through most of the race. 

WTF? 

But with J1of2, at my side, I did manage to run along at a respectable if not blistering pace.  RightFoot checked out at mile 3ish.  Not sure what THAT was about.  By the end of the race it was numb from about mid-foot to the toes.  It’s distracting when your foot aches with every step… it makes it hard to concentrate on things like form, cadence, pace and giggling. 

GBA gf, WnW, J1of2, KC, 3L, DeNiece, J2of2, Kristi

Um. 

Anyone who ever runs with JX2 knows what I’m talking about.  There is going to be giggling and banter.  And lots of it.

Sweetheart 8K, 42:19ish.

Every thing is GREAT here on Fantasy Island as long as you don’t leave. Also the flowers appear to be plastic.

I’ve been scrambling the last few weeks.  Nothing even feels real.  It’s like one day I woke up and discovered I was in The Twilight Zone, and by that I don’t mean Edward the Vampire and an underage goofy looking half nekkid werewolf were knocking on my door because I’m the socially awkward new girl.

I’m the socially awkward anemic runner.  

Vampires don’t even give me the time of day.

As long as I don't look too closely at anything, EVERYTHING is fine.  We're ALL FINE HERE.  But in all honesty...  the weirdness is peaking through in a few spots that are impossible to overlook.

AND Part of the weirdness is the randomness.

Randomness abounds at Chez Moi. 

I have a project due tomorrow, the usual scheduling mania that comes with 3 kids, a sometimes pissed off Right Foot, an interview for Will Feral’s placement, and a deadline for the magazine next weekend.  “I’ve got my country’s 500^th anniversary to plan, my wife to murder, and Guilder to frame for it…”  My rough draft isn’t even finished because ½ way through the rough I changed tack and moved on to a new version of the old idea.  It wasn’t going to play the way I envisioned.  I’m never late on a deadline.  Never.  And yet…  here it’s the 6^th, and… nothing. 

C’est la vie.

My oldest daughter is signing up for classes for next school year, and wants to take French because I speak a miniscule amount of French and she thinks I will tutor her.  Miniscule is probably an over reach.  I read & write a bit more than I speak, and I read & write about 19 words & phrases.  Let’s recap a minute – she’s autistic and has a difficult time communicating in English.  I’m not 100% in favor of her taking a foreign language, and at the same time, I’m not 100% opposed.  You never know someone’s strengths until they try it.  Maybe a foreign language is her thing?  But if it’s not, we’re in for rough water ahead.

Speaking of slogging…

 

My return to running was celebrated a touch early.  I was up to running 4 days a week… and now I’m back to running 2 days a week.  I’m hopeful I can pull of 3 days a week next week but (dot dot dot).  Regardless, I am not comfortable running.  My plan for this spring was to come into training with a nice base of about 35 miles a week and then add speed to that base.  Now I’m just trying to survive 12 miles a week without pain, tingling or numbness.  I managed a tempo run last Sat at a solid pace, but no-where near where I was last Oct. 

Maybe weird isn’t the word for that last bit, but pissed off and frustrated is sort of over done at this point.

Agreements

My foot and I might need to reach some kind of temporary agreement.

Right now, while 4 days of running in a week has been AWESOME for my mental health, it hasn't resulted in a successful week for Right Foot.

Cycling is on the fence.  I can't tell if that hurts the Foot or not, and since the weather has been nice, Right Foot and I spent a little time with OC this week.

Right Foot is a fan of SLOGGING 4 days a week and running 1 day, but I really think Right Foot is in the wrong on this one.  Slogging all the time makes me go off the Deep End.

I think Right Foot and I need to come up with some kind of compromise.

Next week, which starts 2/6, Right Foot and I are going to try to split the difference.

Monday we've agreed to rest, with a "walk the dog" option midday.
Tuesday - Slog/Swim Brick
Wednesday - run
Thursday - Slog/Swim Brick
Friday - Slog/Swim or Row/Spin ~ maybe
Saturday - run
Sunday - Slog/Swim or Ride ~ again, maybe on the ride....

It's not ideal.  This is barely enough running to do much of anything.  I'm still hopeful I will be in condition to run the 10K at the end of March.

Right Foot and I have decided to defer our entry into our mid March Half Marathon, though I'm still planning on going, so if you're traveling in from ~say~ TN, I will still be there in VaBeach that weekend.

I'm trying not to be frustrated.  Nursing school is frustrating enough without being frustrated at my sport too.

Does this sound sane?  I don't even know at this point.........