R-A-N-D-O-M

R-A-N-D-O-M sort of day (inspired by a quick conversation with Dad)! So this is fitting - Enjoy:

R:

Rain, then snow. At least that's the forecast for St. Paul, Minnesota tonight and tomorrow. According to my Dad, who doubles as an expert weatherman, the current precipitation of rain is supposed to turn into snow as the temperature drops from 40 to below freezing overnight. And then, it's supposed to keep snowing, and snowing, and snowing... you get the drift.

And drifts will be aplenty - of snow that is. It's supposed to be a huge winter storm. My heart goes out to the hearty Minnesotans - hang in there my friends. It can't get much worse, can it? (Prophetic last words, I suspect).

No ifs, ands, or buts - the winter up North has been brutal. Unfair. Cold. Windy. Unpleasant! And nothing that I, or anyone else says can detract from that point. So I'll remove myself from the conversation, which is easy to do as I'm writing this myself.

A:

Atlanta, the city where our Grey Toyota Camry has been parked for close to three weeks. The car's name is Basil - in case you're wondering (after Basil Fawlty of "Fawlty Towers", a 1970's British Comedy where John Cleese played the title character. The 12 episodes revolved largely around a hotelkeeper - Cleese - who hated his guests. Hilarious!) Before my trip out to California, I drove up to Atlanta (cheaper plane tickets on the fly!) and had the privilege of staying with uber-tri-chick Kellye Mills and her family.

However, after my spectacular crash and subsequent adventure in California, my family and doctors suggested that I fly to Pensacola instead of Atlanta (thus avoiding the 5.5 hour return trip with Basil!). Me AND my rear were grateful.

Kellye and her family were awesome, and have been so patient with Basil sitting in their driveway – thanks guys! Nathaniel and the Marine that he’s driving up with are both fantastic as well, and I feel so lucky. Incredibly fortunate. They’re on the way home, determined to make the 11-hour round-trip in one day. (And yes, I am worried. I get antsy when Nathaniel flies or drives a long way in heavy traffic. An 11 hour trip is no easy task...hence the late night writing on my part) Like I said before, I am grateful to Nathaniel and to Caroline for helping me out – something that I would have never been able to do, given my current condition.

Dude – my butt/back feel bad after 15 minutes in one position, let alone a LONG car trip. I suppose “A” could have dubbed for “ass-pain,” Or better yet, “pain in the ass.” Which is exactly what I would have been, had I been stuck driving.

Finally, one more Atlanta shout out: Big CONGRATULATIONS to Kellye for running a great ½ Marathon, the Atlanta ING Half. Stellar race, my friend. And all in Atlanta.

N:

No lights. No power. No electricity. But just in the bedroom. Oddest thing happened today: about 15 minutes after Nathaniel left (it never ceases to amaze how stuff in general breaks or cracks or develops a problem the instant the Significant Other is gone. Huh? What do you know?), I flipped a switch in the bedroom and ZAP! The TV and light went out with a POP. Like the “big girl” that I am, I called Nathaniel, and then checked the circuit breakers. I felt so proud of myself for figuring out how they worked, but was none-too-happy when my flip of the switch produced no electricity. Nada.

After a phone call to the front office and a visit from the Emergency Maintenance, I have been told that, “The electricity to the Master Suite is not working.”

Really? No way! Could have fooled me.

Brilliant.

I could have told them that.

Instead, they’re going to “look into it” and maybe call an electrician in the morning. I was told that one other apartment in our “Apartment Home” complex had a similar problem, and they had to rip out the wall to fix whatever was wrong.

Well, that’s just super!

In the meantime, I have no lights in the bedroom. And no electricity. And no TV. Which normally wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but as Nathaniel is gone and it’s only Me and The House Monster, I was looking forward to basketball and channel surfing. Instead I enjoyed lots of good conversations with friends, writing, and reading. Not all bad - just unexpected, random.

D:

Drink and drink and drink some more. I am the Queen of water and prune juice. Not together, but the combination makes the prune juice sound somewhat more palatable. It’s rather thick, you see. But, the PJ has thus far helped keep me regular and pain-free in that "derierre" department. Never did I realize how constipating pain meds and being hooked up to an IV that dispensed pain meds for 5 days – could make me. I’ve always been a “super pooper”, so being stopped up is no picnic. Booo!

My wonderful gastroenterologist put me on a strict Vegetarian-like diet. I am allowed a small amount of lean proteins, but I’m supposed to stick with fresh veggies and fruit. And prune juice – he wants me to drink plenty of it. Great.

Somehow, I discovered that Peanut M&Ms weren't in the mix. Nor the Peanut Butter Cups. Let's be real: if you're 27 and need to see a gastroenterologist, you deserve as many Peanut M&Ms as you want. Then again, perhaps not. Maybe those little suckers are the reason that you're there in the first place...

Hhhhmmmmmm...... Okay, so scratch the Peanut Butter Cups, and let go of a few of the M&Ms. Fruits and Veggies - I eat a lot of those.... yep, I can happily handle those.

I am even willing to go without dairy or cheese (the Doc said they contribute to constipation!) for a few weeks. But Prune Juice?!? Wow – it’s a toughie. But I’m willing to do what it takes to get myself “back to normal” – in every sense of the word. So the PJ it is.

A glass with breakfast and a glass before I go to bed. And I figure that as long as I’m drinking plenty of PJ, I should be allowed a treat. Like a chocolate egg (for the life of me, I cannot find any Reese’s Pieces Easter Eggs! Humbug!). Or a cup of jello. Or frozen raspberries. Or a spoonful of Peanut Butter. Or…or….or…Something good to look forward to with the PJ. This has become a necessity. Trust me.

If anyone out there has any brilliant ideas on how to doctor up the Prune Juice, you have my utmost attention. And respect. Because the stuff is vile.

O:

Ouch, my butt hurts. The back hips hurt. Owie! For lack of a better word. Old news, though. And I’m sure that it’ll stay with me for the next few weeks. I’ve sort of gotten used to how it feels, and I don’t notice it quite as much. The Tough Cookie at her best. But it would be nice to shift positions at “normal” speed. Right now it takes me approximately 45 seconds to bend over and pick something off the ground. That is, if I don’t use my feet to get to it first.

Yes, I now use my feet and toes (namely) to grasp objects and pick them up. (I know what you're thinking, so I'll save you the trouble. Ape-like - yes. But you should seriously try it. Look to your left. Now look to your right... is the coast clear? Good! Now drop something small and easily graspable on the ground, and slowly, carefully, give it a shot. See.... You CAN do it! Kind of fun, right? Hooray!)

It’s a heckuva lot easier than doing a lunge every time I need to get something from the floor. And, if you know me, you know that I’m a bit of a klutz and tend to knock stuff over. So if I can get my feet to grasp it – excellent! Otherwise, I’ll perform yet another lunge (trying to keep my back straight and pelvis in alignment. NO twisting or torquing of my body.) The only problem is, I need to keep track of which side I'm lunging from. I want to be even-sided after my recovery is done. If I spend the next two months only lunging on my right foot - well, it'll be piece of cake for my left foot. So even lunging is my key!

I know that it’s hard for Nathaniel (and earlier in California, it was hard for Dad also) – seeing me struggle with the little things that used to be so easy prior to The Accident. But that’s okay. There are times when I’ve let him help me out (like picking up the 19.6 pound House Monster – THAT would be a disaster!), but other times – like retrieving papers from the floor – that I’ve wanted to do it myself. Even if it takes 45 seconds.

Because sooner rather than later, it’ll take 40 seconds. And then 35. And then 25. And so on, and so forth. Small steps, small progression, and pretty much I’ll be returning to my old self.

So yeah, there will be some “ouch” now – but that’s okay. At least I have a now!

M:

Me! Marit! Self-picture on the bike. (Don’t know if I should admit this because of my crash) – but Sunday the 16th, Brad, Thomas, Chris, Elizabeth, Cat, and myself all went for a really fun spin up along the coast and back. On the way back to Brad’s Condo, I managed to grab hold of my camera and snap a few shots of our little group. It was great. On a whim, I took a photo of myself.



When I think of biking, it makes me happy. When I see this picture, I smile and realize how happy I was at that point in time. When I see this photo, it makes me want to hurry up and get better, to jump back on, and find myself all over again. My trip to California was magical in so many different ways. Yes, there was a crash – I can’t take that back. But it’s not the end; I still have a long way to go. And I learned so much from the trip, more about the sport, more about my friends, and more about myself.

Being around good people, around fantastic athletes, great friends, and a wonderful family have all helped to shape and mold me into the person I am today. Even with the accident, I know I can get better, I know I can get back on my bike, and I know that I will once again find myself cruising down the trails in California, snapping head shots of myself as I grin into the camera and think to myself, “I am having the time of my life!”

And I can’t wait.

So that's my R-A-N-D-O-M day. We all have them, so you might as well make it a good one!