Take that, appendix!: the 2010 Parks Half Marathon

Last November, I ran my first race longer than a 5K. It was the 2009 Turkey Burnoff 5-miler, put on by Montgomery County Road Runners and held in Seneca Creek State Park. It was a great race in a beautiful park. During the race, I noticed hundreds of people wearing "2009 Parks Half Marathon" t-shirts. I deduced that this was another fall MCRR race, held in another beautiful park. I thought "Its too bad I don't run half-marathons because that's probably a fun race."

Little did I know that, just a couple months later, I would be training for my first half-marathon. Or that, just a few weeks after that, I would be crazy enough to sign up for a full marathon. I never would have guessed that the 2010 Parks Half Marathon would actually be my third half marathon. Funny how these things happen.

As late as this past Thursday, I didn't think I would be running at all. As I mentioned in previous posts, I've been mostly recovered from my appendectomy for about a week now, but I was still having pain at my incision sites when I tried to run. I really didn't want to bail on another race so soon after missing the A10. For the past week or so, I've been icing, taking Advil, eating tons of protein and carbs, resting, putting myself on prayer lists- anything I could think of. Something worked, because I went out for a test run yesterday, and had no pain at all. Game on!

I had to leave my house at 4:30 this morning in order to get parking and hit the last-minute packet pickup for this race. When I left, it was chilly and sheeting rain. Fortunately, by the time the race started, it had warmed up a bit and the rain had become a mere drizzle. The race started at the Rockville Metro station. At mile 2, we turned into Rock Creek park, which we ran all the way to Bethesda. The Rock Creek trail is narrow, so the race start was staggered by pace group. I put myself in the 11:15-12:00 group and stuck with them for the first 6 miles. Thanks to this slightly-slower-than-usual pace, I hit mile 6 feeling great, and decided to push it a little.

I really hit my stride for miles 6-9 and made my way to the back of the next group up. I passed a ton of people who had gone out too fast. Around mile 10, I started feeling like one of those people. I had to back off a bit for miles 10-12, but I managed to stay with my new group. Most of us picked it up in mile 13, especially when we passed a wonderful volunteer who let us know we were only 1/4 mile from the finish. I had inadvertantly left my watch at home, so I had no idea of my time as I approached the finish. I thought I might be on track to beat my best half time, 2:24, but wound up finishing at 2:35. I think I took it too easy in the beginning and too hard in the middle. Oh well. The park was beautiful and I felt 1,000 times better than I did during that half in July (shudder).

After the race, I met up with my friend Scott, who ignored my odor and took me out for a burger and a beer. The burger was some kind of CA inspired creation with avacado and sprouts. It would have been good under any circumstances, but after a long run it was unbelivable. As we ate, I thought about the fact that, just two weeks ago, I was stuck on my couch eating canned soup and icing my belly. Hooray for healing!

On the road again!

I like to think Willie Nelson and I have many things in common. For example, when we're not on the road, we can't wait to get back on it again. As of this morning, it had been three weeks since I did a long run. I had tried to run a few times since my surgery, but always had to stop because of pain at the site of one of my incisions. After two weeks of diligent icing and Advil-popping, I decided to give it another go this morning. Lo and behold, the pain was gone! I did 7 miles, which wasn't easy after all that time off, but gave me the confidence to attempt my scheduled race tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes.

Another thing Willie and I have in common is that we both love this country, and we're especially fond of values like personal (including religious) freedom and tolerance. I hope we can all keep those values in mind today.

Good news and bad news.

This has been a week of good news and bad news. Good news: I'm back at work. Bad news: I am totally swamped from all my time off. Stuff like that. Here are some highlights:

Good news: I had a follow-up with my surgeon and I have been pronounced officially healed. The doctor is totally satisfied with my progress and says that I have "no restrictions" on what I can do. I've been able to return to Group Power and some other athletic activities. Bad news: I haven't been able to run yet. Even though I'm healing well, the sites of my incisions are still a bit swollen and tender, and the pounding of running causes significant pain. Its getting a little less every day, though, and I'm hoping I'll be able to get in a longish run this weekend. We'll see.

Good news: Over the weekend, I ran into a colleague from my first pseudo-counseling job, which I held from 2002-2004. I hadn't seen her in 3 or 4 years, and it was great to hear her news and also get caught up on events in the community where I used to work. Bad news: My former colleague informed me of the death of one of my most beloved former clients. She was a grandmother, raising her grandchildren after one of their parents died and the other was incarcerated. She was one of the strongest and most loving people I've ever known. I told her at our very first meeting that I was there to work for her, and she was humble enough to let me do that, despite being many years older than me and light years more experienced in life. At the same time, she found hundreds of little ways to let me know that she cared for me, as a professional and as a person. I've thought about her and her family thousands of times in the 6+ years since I last saw them, and the world feels just a little colder knowing that she's gone from it.

Finally, a piece of unambiguous good news: I saw a former clinical supervisor on Wednesday who knows about my marathon plans and about the appendix situation. I was updating her on my progress, and she commented that she had talked to her brother (a marathoner) about my situation and shared some of his advice. I was so unbelievably touched that this person had thought enough about my situation to actually talk about it with her family. It made me think about all of the people, throughout all the various nooks and crannies of my life, who are so invested in my marathon experience. I don't have adequate words to express how touched I am that so many people care so deeply about me and my journey. I truly feel like I will be running this marathon with a support team of hundreds. I can not thank all of you enough!

"It worries me."

If you've ever seen "Project Runway" (and if you haven't, you should), you've probably seen Tim Gunn say "it worries me" while making the face pictured above. 

I thought of this picture yesterday when I went out and attempted to run for the first time since my surgery. The good news is that my breath issues were not a problem. Owing in part to the dramatically cooler weather, I was able to walk briskly for a good 45 minutes. The trouble came when I tried to pick it up to a run. As soon as I did that, the pounding made my surgery incisions flare up painfully. I felt like I was getting hundreds of little punches in the gut. Not good. I didn't push it, because I know that will only make things worse. I think I'm just going to have to wait until things heal up a bit. Unfortunately, I am not a quick healer when it comes to things like cuts and bruises. I used to think it was anemia from all my years as a vegetarian, but the added iron I'm getting from eating red meat doesn't seem to be helping much. So, I'm worried. Next week's half-marathon is looking more and more like next week's $55 I can't get back. Boo.

As long as I can't spend two hours at the gym every day, I'm continuing to channel that energy into developing my beginner sewing skills. I've been working on sewing since mid-2008, when I started watching "Project Runway" and grew envious of the contestants who can make amazing things from scratch. I had an old sewing machine in my attic, something a former roommate purchased at a yard sale for $10 and never used. I pulled it out, ordered some simple sewing books, and spent a good couple weeks figuring out the machine's manufacture date and model number and then hunting down an old manual online. Just learning how the machine works and getting aquainted with the basic tools of sewing took a couple of months. Several times, I've been tempted to just fork over $200 for a newer machine, which would probably be infinitely simpler and easier to use. For some reason, though, I feel a strange loyalty to my early 70's avacado green Kenmore (see previous post for a photo). 

In the past two years, I haven't had the time I would need to devote to sewing to get good (or even competent) at it. Whenever I have blocks of free time though (holidays, blizzards, post-surgery recovery), I try to complete a simple project or two. Little by little, I'm starting to feel like I'm not totally lost, and that feels pretty good.

While I sew, I like to put on old seasons of "Project Runway" for inspiration. Its fun to watch the designers whip up evening gowns in the time it takes me to make a set of placemats or a tote bag. As I once told a friend, its like watching Julia Child while you microwave a burrito.

Less appendix= more free time.

Check out my new bag:

Wondering where I got it? I'll show you:

That's right- I made that bag myself! Its my biggest sewing project to date. In the seven days since I had my appendix out, I haven't worked out at all and I've only spent a little over four hours at work. I have slept about twelve hours a day; made the above-pictured bag; read four books so far; watched countless episodes of "Top Chef" and "Lost;" and made guacamole, blueberry cobbler, peach oatmeal crumble, salads that my mother said looked straight out of a restaurant, and (my new favorite) spaghetti with bacon and eggs. Its been a busy week off.  

As many of you know, I have ADHD (Attendtion Defecit Hyperactivity Disorder). It manifests for me in a variety of ways, but one is an insatiable need to always be doing something. When I was first diagnosed, my psychiatrist was trying to determine whether I had the inattentive or hyperactive version of the disorder, so she asked me how well I tolerate sitting still. I thought about it for a minute and replied (honestly) "I don't know, I don't really sit still long enough to find out." This disorder has provided plenty of challenges for me throughout my life, but I think it also makes me well suited for manic pursuits like my work/school combo and marathon training. 

Speaking of which... I still don't know how this whole experience will impact my training. All in all, I've felt pretty good this week. I've had almost no pain, but I have dealt with exhaustion and pretty severe shortness of breath (a side-effect of anesthesia). A few days puffing on this lovely device has restored my breathing to almost normal- at least indoors. Outdoors, the heat still leaves me out of breath pretty quickly. The combo of the exhaustion and the shortness of breath means that I haven't attempted to run or go to the gym yet. There's also the fact that I still have three wounds on my stomach healing. Despite the lack of pain, I can definitely feel that I had surgery in my abdomen just a week ago and I (obviously) don't want to risk messing anything up in there. 

So, I'm taking it easy, but I am very aware of the ticking of the training clock, and even more aware that I'm registered (and paid) for a half-marathon on September 12th. As a bonus, its a half with a strict cut off time of 2:45, which means that I couldn't just decide to walk the whole thing. I think I'm going to try a brief treadmill walk at the gym tomorrow and see how it goes. I have a follow-up appointment with my surgeon on Wednesday and I hope she'll give me some solid guidance then. She was very understanding about my desire to resume training as soon as possible. 

If, for some reason, I don't make it back to training soon, I'll be happy to take orders for tote bags, and maybe even decorative pillows!  

Goodbye appendix and A10.

So, this is something I only have in books now.

This past Wednesday night, I came home from work and made one of my favorite dinners: gnocchi with homemade pesto cream sauce and fresh green beans. The basil and spinach I used for the pesto were a little past their prime, but they looked okay and tasted fine, so I thought I was okay. After dinner, I went to the gym for Group Power and a short run. It felt way harder than usual and I wasn't feeling so hot, but I chalked it up to being overfed. I went home intending to get a few things done before a very busy Thursday, but wound up going almost straight to bed.

At about 3am Thursday morning, I woke up to horrible abdominal cramping and nausea. My first thought was that the pesto was bad, and I cursed myself for making a double-batch. I took some Advil and managed to fall back asleep. When the alarm went off at 5:30am for boot camp, the nausea was gone, but the cramping was still there. At that point, I thought I might have re-pulled my abdominal muscle at the gym. I decided to skip boot camp and go into work a little late. I went to work around 1pm and immediately knew I had made a mistake because I felt awful. I felt so awful that I actually bailed on my last night of counseling at the Wendt Center- something I had not even considered that morning. I postponed my counseling appointments, made sure payroll was done at the office, and went home.

Thursday night, I talked to my mom about my symptoms and spent a great deal of time with my favorite doctor, Google (see previous post). My symptoms sounded a little like food poisoning, a little like a hernia, and a little like appendicitis, but not a lot like any of those. All I had was a dull pain and some fatigue. No nausea, no loss of appetite, no fever, and my belly wasn't tender to the touch. I considered going to the ER Thursday evening, but decided to wait one more night and see what happened.

Friday morning, I woke up to no change, so I called the doctor. He was able to take me right away, so I headed in at 9:30am. Apparently, doctors don't mess around with possible appendicitis. I 've never been seen so quickly before. I literally did not have time to sign in before they took me back. The doctor did a quick exam and sent me over to the ER just in case. He thought I probably had something fairly mild, like a UTI, but wanted to rule out appendicitis.

So, off to the ER I went. I had just signed in and taken a number when I ran into two friends from my church, one escorting the other who had terrible nausea. I felt awful for the sick person, because she looked terrible, but I was very touched to see her being escorted by a non-related church member. Its always great to see church people caring for one another like we should! The escort immediately took me under his wing as well, and sat with me while I waited and got my tests done.

At the ER, I spent several hours undergoing testing. I had to have a CT scan, which meant spending two hours drinking nausea-inducing contrast fluid while also being filled with IV contrast fluid. The big downside of this was that I had eaten nothing but a cereal bar all day and couldn't eat or drink in case it turned out I needed surgery. Being hungry did nothing for my pain or my nausea. The upside was my first experience with IV-delivered pain and nausea meds: that stuff works! I got the scan around 4pm and was told I would have to wait an hour for the results. By 4:30, though, a doctor came and told me I had acute appendicitis and would have to have my appendix removed ASAP.

By this time, my mom had come to join me. This was great because I've only had surgery once before and it definitely makes me nervous. I met my surgeon around 5pm and she put me right at ease: warm, laid-back, funny, and totally understanding about the fact that my first questions were about whether I could run my marathon on Oct. 31. The answer to that question is maybe; the surgeon thinks I can ease back to the gym in about a week and see how things go from there. So, there's a chance, which was a big relief to hear.

I had to wait a couple hours for an OR to be open, but once the surgeon got a room, the actual procedure was very fast. They gave me some valium at 7:30pm right before they wheeled me in to the OR. Thanks to the quick delivery via the IV, I hit the OR just loopy enough to speak my first thought aloud: "This looks like the morgue. I used to work there." They knocked me out after that.

I woke up in recovery sooner than anyone expected, feeling a little sore, but otherwise okay. By the time I got up to my room, I could walk around with fairly minimal assistance. I made it through the night with only one dose of pain meds and no real trouble except the after-effects of a catheter used during the surgery (yikes!). In the morning, I was able to eat some solid food and the surgeon told me I looked good and could head home. I was leaving the hospital by 10:30am.

So, now I'm home and doing pretty well. I have a pain prescription, but haven't needed it, and I was even feeling well enough to cook myself dinner. I am very dissapointed about not running my first A10 tomorrow or hosting my Jock Jams party. My buddies from a former job have been running the A10 every year since 2001 and this is the first year I've been fit enough to join them. Its a big milestone for me and I hate missing it. Still, I can't complain. I caught this thing before it got really bad and I'm so grateful for the fact that I'm fit enough to recover quickly. I am also very grateful for everyone who has called, texted, and emailed over the past two days! I hope to see you out on the roads again soon.  Finally, I'm grateful that neither pesto nor Group Power was the culprit in this illness, because I couldn't imagine my life without them.

The internet is my doctor.

As long as I can remember, my mom has been an advocate of medical books, ie: random books on health and medicine purchased from the B&N clearance rack which she believes qualify her to diagnose and treat any ailment. She inherited this from my grandmother, who had little formal education but read voraciously and considered herself a self-taught PhD in pretty much everything. If you mention any symptom or discomfort in front of my mother, she will immediately reach for one of her trusted books, scan the index, and dispense her expert advice.

I've made a lot of fun of "Dr. Mom" over the years, but the truth is that I'm a total hypocrite. I don't have a shelf full of medical books myself, but I do have the internet. When I have aches and pains, do I call my family doctor? No! I simply consult "Dr. Google." Lately, this has become an almost-daily habit. We're just about halfway through our training now and it seems like something hurts pretty much all the time.

As I mentioned a couple days ago, we're scaling back our long runs for the next two weeks in preparation for the A10 next weekend and our first 20-miler the week after. With the easier weekend runs comes more intense training during the week. For me, it seems that more intense weekday training also means more aches and pains.

Last week, I started off pretty well. Katie and I pushed it and did spinning and Group Power back-to-back on Monday. This resulted in a lazy Tuesday (see my 8/17 post), but I felt back to normal by Wednesday. Wednesday's Group Power was no problem, and I felt great during boot camp on Thursday. The operative word here is during.

For Thursday's class, we followed our usual pattern of running from the gym to downtown, stopping at several scenic locations to do drills. This week it was a series of medicine ball exercises, including jumping jacks, squats, plyometrics, and lunges with twists. Usually, during boot camp, I'm too focused on not throwing up to enjoy the beautiful views at places like the McNasby's pier:

This week, though, I felt great. I was full of energy throughout the class, taking in the views, and chatting with my classmates. At the end, I actually felt like I could have done more.

Well, its a good thing I didn't act on that feeling, because by Friday morning, I couldn't feel my quads. I'm not sure which exercise did me in (I suspect the lunges), but the stiffness and pain lasted well into the weekend. It made for a challenging "easy" 12 miles on Saturday.

I took it extra-easy and went to bed early Saturday and Sunday, and felt back to normal this morning... until Group Power. Again, I'm not sure what did me in, but by the time I got to work this morning, my left calf was swollen and as tight as last year's jeans. So, I spent a little time this morning with Dr. Google. His advice is pretty consistent: rest, ice, compression, elevation, and stretching.

So, if you look for me this afternoon, you'll find me in my office with my feet up, popping Advil and sneaking off to the bathroom to stretch every half hour or so. Doctor's orders.