TAB's

Well, it has been quite a few weeks since posting my glorious New Year's Resolutions.  Glorious?  Only in light of what the last few weeks have been. 

I was out sledding on January 4, having a great time with the family and friends, when an unasked for little slice of life tapped me on the shoulder.  "What?", I said.  "You will have a reality realignment.", it said.  "Again?", "Yes, again.".  Within 24 hours I was in the ER for the worst headache of my life, and constant nausea and vomiting.  Yahoo.  I went in style, in my pajamas and fuzzy couch potato fleece.  And boots, of course.  After ruling out anything truly heinous they sent me home with powerful meds.  These were followed by more meds later in the week, and an extremely slow recovery from a "pinched nerve".  C-1 is where the skull rests on the spine.  C-2 is the pivot point.  Somewhere in all those tiny muscles, ligaments, and joints I came up with a world of hurt.  Nothing showed on the CAT scan or the X-rays, but it is there.  It was two weeks before I could stay upright for more than 20 minutes, or eat a decent meal.  Two weeks mostly face down in bed, with an ice pack on my neck.  Trying to make the knives in my left eye ease up a bit and the rolling in my stomach settle down.  This gave me lots of time to think.

First I thought, "At least I didn't Break my neck".  This morphed into, "At least I am in my nice cozy home, not Haiti.".  Then there was, "Gosh, I think I need to get my husband a medal.", and "Wow my son is adorable, even if I can't do anything with him.".   Finally, "When will I be fixed, I'm getting mighty tired of this."  It seems to be two steps forward and one step back, all the way.  Which is still progress.  After two weeks I left the house for pleasure (one golden hour), then could not get out of bed the next day.  After 16 days I ate my first chocolate (yes, my stomach was that off).  And after 18 days I had my first coffee (perhaps I should have quit while I was ahead.).  Now I am settled into a one-day-up, one-day-down routine.  Not that I do much when I am up, but I dream. 

I started PT a few days ago, and it is excellent.  My PT is an angel, she helped fix my shoulder a few years ago.  Now she is helping to pull my head right off my neck.  This is a good thing, because I have a few tight muscles.  Okay, I have a lot of tight muscles.  I have always been focused on being strong.  Now the cosmic lesson is to take the time to stretch.  I am a very mentally flexible person, probably too flexible, but never gave my muscles that training.  Maybe I should turn it all around, work on being mentally strong, and physically flexible.  Cuz the strength is still there.  Even after weeks in bed my neck and shoulders feel like rocks.

I was once told that it is a good idea to listen to the little lessons thrown your way.  That the universe will throw toothpicks at your forehead to get your attention, and if that does not work then next comes the two-by-four.  Well, my neck has been bothering me a bit for over a year now.  I kept thinking, "I should get it together and do something about this...", and never quite got there.  I am there now, and determined to work on things.   Really, I have no choice.  Other than to give up, but that is no fun.  So I am soldiering on.  PT, stretches, down time, up time, attempt to get one or two things done.  I now have great sympathy for migraine sufferers, and those who have been through car accidents and other long term issues.  I see the agony.  And I am determined to follow where ever this leads.  Perhaps to yoga, maybe bio-feedback.  I have friend that does acupuncture, and I will give it a whirl.  I want to get back to my running, and maybe even ski cross country by the end of the season.  But I think I will stay away from the sleds. 

And what is a TAB?   It is a term that comes from people with disabilities.  A little inside joke.  Because if you don't have a disability label then you are a TAB.  Temporarily Able Bodied.  Make the most of it, folks!

Why I Love This Town

I arrived at Bangin' in the Brush early and nervous. A 10km race through the woods north of town, it is a fundraiser for the Korkki Nordic ski trail. The "Bangin'" part is no joke, as this is an old fashioned trail through thick woods, best skied on with a good foot of snow for a base. In the fall it is rough and tumble. I have never raced it before but have been aware of it for years. They always have great T-shirts. That's all I had to go on, but figured if I seriously wanted to run a real race every season, and not just talk about it, then this was it. I was pretty sure my friend Anett, who is a crack outdoor athlete, would be there. I also figured I could be in trouble since I could never keep up with her, and have never raced more than five km. But then again, what the hell, it would be my last race in my 30's so might as well go out in style. Or a flaming, spectacular mess.

So, there I was at 10 am, alone in the woods. A few others waiting for the start, all strangers. And then, halleluja, Anett arrived. And then Stacey from book club. And then Ellen from the women's running group. And then Sara!! Who has pulled me through my two previous races. And then Julie from work. And then Lisa from Peace Church. And then Judith from book club who just deliverd my son's godfather's baby. And then two Dr's who sub on my unit. And then my pal Beckett's husband. And Rocket, who I've known since 1989. This town may have 90,000 residents, but I guess the outdoor nuts are pretty incestuous. I can't belive I've never run this race before! Well, okay, I really could not have run 10km without being near death before training this last year. In all there were over 100 of us running this race, 10 tough kilometers through brush, mud, and ankle busting hillocks. It was the perfect cool but sunny morning. Trees starting to color orange, gold, and red. I did not take off like a bat out of hell and blow up in the first mile (see past running posts), I took it slow and steady. Me and Sara, once again. Talking, laughing, and dragging each other up a few nasty hills. Over all it was beautiful. I guess I can survive 10 km. We did not set any land speed records, but we finished. And I even procured a loaf of bread at the prize drawings. Didn't exactly win it, but since I jumped on it after a fumble, I got it. And the two numbers on either side of mine won pairs of skis, maybe it will be my turn next year. I guess I will have to go back.

Today is a day later and I am rather sore, but not too bad. I am happy to have completed a trail 10km on short notice. Good to know I can do that now even if I slacked off a bit on the training this month. I guess that regular 30 minutes, 3 times a week really has paid off. Now maybe I will have to start working on speed, then there will be more beer left when I make it to the finish. Yeah, there's plenty of work to be done in these upcoming 40's. And plenty of crazy Duluthians to do it with.

Pacing and Consistency

A little bit more about the Mother's Day Race for Breast Cancer, and how I survived it. As per my earlier posts, I was able to race with my friend Sara. She saved my hiney in the Solstice run and did the same for this run too. She is an inspiration to me. I met her back in 1988, worked for her kayaking husband for many years, was a dweller in her attic one summer, and she tipped me off to my job on the unit. Sara is as solid a citizen as they come. She works her butt off as a Mental Health RN, she has two fantastic boys in grade school and junior high, her house is to die for (they built it), and she is always going on wild adventures. Drive down with a friend and the boys to Florida for a week? Sure. Go to New Zealand on her honeymoon and climb mountains and leap off tall hills with a parachute. Yep. Squeeze in a ski week out in Montana with the whole family. Of course. She runs, mountain bikes, skis, kayaks, camps, and was a rugby player. She can also antique and garage sale with the pros. She was the best RN I ever worked with in Mental Health (she has since moved jobs, but not far). She could set a limit, find contraband, confront naughty behavior, and take down an out of control kid like nobody's business. Tough, funny, straight talking, and kind. She told me throughout my pregnancy that I was going to be fine and my child would not suffer too much from having such an inexperienced mama. She even passed on that most important piece of equipment for travel, the porta-prison. And a few wet suits for Alex to grow into.

So, back to the race. I was determined to follow my heart rate monitor and not blow out, but instead I followed Sara. And still did not blow out. We ran and talked the whole race. We were way in back, but we did not walk and we "got 'er done". I discovered my heart rate can go a lot higher than I thought (and the charts predict), and I have not been crazy sore or sick in these few days past. Creaky, yes. Tired, yes. A wee bit unmotivated. Yep. And HUNGRY. But not sick or super sore. And we were not the LAST racers on the course, so that is saying something. We ran the whole race at a faster pace than I have been training at, but I still had a little juice left for a sprint at the finish. Much better to place that at the finish than the start! I will probably resume training soon, with my new heart rate limits, and the discovery that I can go a bit faster than I thought I could.

In my life I have started at least 10 half-assed running programs that I quit within a month. I would be all gung-ho, then get overworked and quit. I never paced myself or was consistent. And I never set decent goals. With pacing and consistency in mind this last year, and Sara and the Mother's Day race on the calendar, I finally broke the half-assed habit. It feels good. And yes, it's really true, slow and steady wins the race.

Training for Mother's Day

Mother's Day is almost here. I have been training since last year and we will soon see if those efforts have paid off. Will I be blowing noses?, you ask. Or finding lost shoes? Or creating nutritious and delicious meals?? No, I will be running. It is the perfect Mother's Day activity. And it is actually a 5km race for breast cancer I will be participating in. Note the word "participating", not "racing". I tried racing in my first running event last June, and it was a disaster. It was a midnight race on the summer solstice, just me in the lonely dark with 300 of my closest friends. A very cool event, by the way. The disaster part was purely personal. It all came down to an incorrect assessment of my talents. There I was, at the start with two good friends, ready to enjoy a leisurely run for fun. 5km, that's about 3.3 miles and anyone can do that, right? Well, the gun went off and the spirit grabbed me. I took off like a gazelle with lots of speedy and leggy people. It felt good. It felt great! I was running, it was dark, and all these people were running with me. I usually run alone and had pictured racing on my own too. It was much more fun with tons of people. Unfortunately I lost my friends and could not figure out if they were ahead of me or behind me. But it did not really matter because I was RUNNING and it felt great. For at least three minutes I was on top of the world. And then reality joined me on the run. My heart rate started to be prominent in my ears and my lungs decided they were about done with this running stuff. My legs began to remind me that I had never actually been a runner and had not trained for this event. I had a brief moment of iron will and determination that I WOULD keep running, and then I caved. The walk/run began. The fast runners moved off ahead, with hearts and lungs in tact, and many more began to pass me from behind. I walked, tried more running, and walked again. I found my friends, or rather they found me, after several disheartening minutes as I chugged along. I had dropped them like bad habits at the start, but their pacings paid off. Sam buzzed on past, not wanting to walk for fear of giving up the run. Fair enough. Sara came along a few minutes later and encouraged me to quit the "poor me" walking and run at a nice slow and steady pace. To my protests she said, "You can do it!". So, I did. Even up the one hill. I could not have done it without her pacing me and keeping me going. It felt great to finish, and I had learned a valuable lesson. Pacing. I also realized there was another missing piece. Consistency. So I started training. And I have continued training, with those words foremost in my mind. Pacing and Consistency.

And now I have the second running race of my adult life. The Mother's Day race. Another 5km. This time I trained. This time I have an excellent heart rate monitor to wear. This time I will pace myself. This time I may not even have to walk. We shall see...

Trying to Get Fit

Two steps forward, one step back. Like so many other things in life, my fitness progress is not going in a straight line. My enthusiasm got me and I worked out at a hard rate for three in a "row" (one day rest in between each) and now I am paying the price. Aches, sore throat, super tired. I know better. I should have gone medium on my ski. But I would have been almost going backwards and the day was soooo beautiful... Yeah, and I was thinking I was already a cadio rock star. But I am not. Never have been. Working on it, at age 39. Better late than never, right? I used to get bronchitis every year, sometimes twice a year. Usually the outcome of a doomed fitness program. Now I have a heart rate monitor and a wee bit of self awareness. I've been working out somewhat steady for two years, running consistently for three months. I am addicted to my workouts and they make me very happy. Except when I get a little crazy. So will stick with a two-medium-to-one-hard ratio and keep those endorphins rolling. Maybe I'll be that rock star yet.