tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47635352753331165772024-03-16T11:52:32.018-07:00Marit Chrislock-LauterbachLife, learning, passion and humor - one dose at a time. Athlete, violinist, writer, photographer, and addicted to Swedish Fish - yes, that's me. Recently diagnosed with lupus, and recovering from a near-fatal Pulmonary Embolism and Deep Vein Thrombosis, this is my journey towards happiness, health, laughter, and a life worth living. Won't you join me?Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.comBlogger555125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-28534810214475642152010-11-25T08:50:00.000-08:002010-11-25T08:57:57.614-08:00Thankful!No words can really describe how I feel this Thanksgiving. But a picture certainly can...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5S03QHoes5AhWK2t_rA5jVys5sQKjynq0a7IdGBuID2LT5qDkNNeCBRmpTBea1eEgj3_X75mPowcyeHGEtjliTax1pktEMZ6YTc_skF1uZuLUi2ZAd8YW8N0l0oACXDkjeJm66tW7tfw/s1600/IMG_4897-1+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5S03QHoes5AhWK2t_rA5jVys5sQKjynq0a7IdGBuID2LT5qDkNNeCBRmpTBea1eEgj3_X75mPowcyeHGEtjliTax1pktEMZ6YTc_skF1uZuLUi2ZAd8YW8N0l0oACXDkjeJm66tW7tfw/s400/IMG_4897-1+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543531129981953090" /></a><br />I am SO THANKFUL for Nathaniel's safe return last Sunday, after a 7-month deployment to Afghanistan. A lot of stuff happened during this deployment - on both ends. We've both lived a lot of life and our perspective and views of the world have definitely changed.<br /><br />We are so grateful for the time we have together, our family and friends (and my doctors), and the opportunity to enjoy the life we live.<br /><br />Welcome home Sweetheart - I am so thankful for you!Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com93tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-65919292584279513592010-10-19T02:18:00.000-07:002010-10-19T02:35:56.327-07:00A Happy EventIn spite of feeling like my legs had NO response when it was time to go fast in the pool, burying my head in the jar of peanut butter, and encountering the same difficult passage over and over <span style="font-style:italic;">(and over!) </span>again in Mahler, there were some pretty beautiful moments during my day...<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The most wonderful of them all, though?</span><br /><br />Watching my friends reunite with their spouses after a 7-month deployment. Words seem so inadequate at a time like this....so I won't even try. But seeing this, makes me grateful for Nathaniel, our military service members, and all the special people in my life.<br /><br />Welcome Home ADVON!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vMda6bBPWS2GAY3lm_dsq0m_PFCZ1CbJBg2d31F3W3hFncFdw4ksgsTH37PHL6h2vN0s22jRw8r7J3upaENkG7CWTB90z0AzajeBIKhAjfmyqonmP_ki2wrYeEDJcUvy9_0om7EZwn4/s1600/DSC_0631+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vMda6bBPWS2GAY3lm_dsq0m_PFCZ1CbJBg2d31F3W3hFncFdw4ksgsTH37PHL6h2vN0s22jRw8r7J3upaENkG7CWTB90z0AzajeBIKhAjfmyqonmP_ki2wrYeEDJcUvy9_0om7EZwn4/s320/DSC_0631+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529687043563542386" /></a><br />Gee...it makes me want to go hug Nathaniel- More importantly....this picture makes me smile, makes me feel happy, and reaffirms my faith in Happily Ever After.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-44918066062181305832010-10-17T20:16:00.001-07:002010-10-17T21:35:18.849-07:00Training Mojo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmwO2ACaSuG8LC1YqDFBL_okdvlkeKjIcc_n94BqOsE6yzFRmo8tut2JszUeQvrLHtF15O8LW-Yrrl3HnoOANluOtmyBjvwvl5zbr_XhrlnV_G01qA3ekLi3KgK6nJe_PLfzYuU_vfGD0/s1600/run+for+beer.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmwO2ACaSuG8LC1YqDFBL_okdvlkeKjIcc_n94BqOsE6yzFRmo8tut2JszUeQvrLHtF15O8LW-Yrrl3HnoOANluOtmyBjvwvl5zbr_XhrlnV_G01qA3ekLi3KgK6nJe_PLfzYuU_vfGD0/s200/run+for+beer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529231177813817090" /></a>It's been an interesting, good, <span style="font-style:italic;">fun</span> week, training-wise. And for the life of me, <span style="font-style:italic;">I can't remember the last time I said that.</span> I'm finding that my body can pretty much handle 10-12 hours of training without getting sick (KNOCK ON WOOD), and in all honesty - I'm really really really enjoying myself.<br /><br />Repeat: <span style="font-style:italic;">I'm really really really enjoying myself!</span><br /><br />I'm still wrapping my head around the recent health "adventures" <span style="font-style:italic;">(is that the right word?)</span>.... heath "escapades"....<span style="font-style:italic;">healthcapades? </span><br /><br />No - that sounds too much like "icecapades" for my liking.<br /><br />I'm still trying to come to terms with everything that has happened this year. And while I've accepted the fact that setting a new half marathon PR is not realistic for my November 14th race, at the end of the day - I love the structure of workouts, of running, and beginning to feel bits of Healthy/Happy/Athletic Marit resurfacing. But most of all (and the most important) <span style="font-style:italic;">I'm having fun.</span><br /><br />I've always loved running, loved working hard and putting myself out there - feeling the tremendous satisfaction of pushing beyond what I thought was possible, one sweaty, caboose-like breath at a time.<br /><br />And no, I'm not (nearly) as fast as I used to be. But you know what? Right now... after everything that has happened.... I don't give two shits about my time or pace. At this point, victory is lining up ON the starting line, as happy and healthy as I can be. <br /><br />Okay... that's a slight fudge. But <span style="font-style:italic;">very</span> slight.<br /><br />I AM doing tempo work, have some fast stuff on the schedule.... and that work is keeping me honest. Trust me - running 5 or 6 miles at "goal race pace" will do just that. <span style="font-style:italic;">Keep you honest.</span><br /><br />At the end of the day, I just want to have the best race that I can possibly have - everything else is (as I so frequently say) icing on the proverbial sheet cake.<br /><br />And on a completely different note.... I don't think Joel McHale from "The Soup" (Nathaniel's favorite show...) thinks very highly of the "Real Hosewives of Beverly Hills." Just a hunch. But you be the judge -<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3Pc_KtvDvpENW9nBIPq8vnJ3tBxDzz0BMZoG6l8HC7kYIorQ1SDkJlh48bS-XSypVRGmgNiLwcGHOBA0FD9spNleRPwj10HSyKknuPPbXsvQQQXnLad2D0ZpjzQ0Ptr57vb5xtoQ414/s1600/soup+soup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3Pc_KtvDvpENW9nBIPq8vnJ3tBxDzz0BMZoG6l8HC7kYIorQ1SDkJlh48bS-XSypVRGmgNiLwcGHOBA0FD9spNleRPwj10HSyKknuPPbXsvQQQXnLad2D0ZpjzQ0Ptr57vb5xtoQ414/s320/soup+soup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529235462975061794" /></a><br />Have a great week everyone!Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-11150535430996819292010-10-12T12:13:00.001-07:002010-10-12T14:35:02.363-07:00Weekend recap & BOUS pictures!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsJho3oaOpQCgDVEFiYm93ipN7oOhQLiQBJ3nQ_ZIOFkObsU2r0ky2sgEB3uM1rY7Ws_iYc9sFrJ6WoUdnKCKMwzhfE_B_3JWmpGintpUjJ8M-vXySGjLIdEaeLlexMZtQ5IQI8q92rU/s1600/DSC_0287+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsJho3oaOpQCgDVEFiYm93ipN7oOhQLiQBJ3nQ_ZIOFkObsU2r0ky2sgEB3uM1rY7Ws_iYc9sFrJ6WoUdnKCKMwzhfE_B_3JWmpGintpUjJ8M-vXySGjLIdEaeLlexMZtQ5IQI8q92rU/s200/DSC_0287+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527261364202327602" /></a>What a weekend, eh? LOTS of racing, lots of cheering, and HOLY COW!! Just a lot of people toeing the line, putting themselves out there, taking risks, and living the dream. Totally. Awesome.<br /><br />Saturday was bittersweet for me; in the Kona lead-up, I wasn't sure how I would feel on the actual day of the race. Race week, I was grateful to not experience the pre-race nausea-inducing stress. Last year, I distinctly remember telling Nathaniel that, <span style="font-style:italic;">"If I can get through Kona, ANY future race will seem easy by comparison."</span><br /><br />How true - but how sad at the same time. If only I knew then what I know now. But that's the case for so many of us, and I know that with whatever I'm going through - 1) I'm not the only one and 2) I'm not alone. I take great solace in those facts.<br /><br />Saturday morning was hard, and watching the race start on Ironman Live was bittersweet: I was ecstatic for my friends....but I cried at the same time. I don't miss Ironman training, per se. But I miss the sport.... I miss biking outside and the training associated with it. I would do just about anything to time trial down a long stretch of road, feeling my legs powering through the sting of working HARD.<br /><br />And part of me misses the life I once had; learning to live with lupus, my auto-immune disorder, and the complications that I have as a result, is challenging. I have great days, true. But there are other days where, for lack of a better word, I feel like I'm training for Ironman <span style="font-style:italic;">(but without the benefit of actually training). </span>I'm only going to say this once - because I know that so many people have it a lot worse than me, and it the end I'm grateful for all the things that I DO have... <span style="font-style:italic;">but it just seems so unfair.</span> And sometimes I'm just really sad.<br /><br />So Saturday....I let myself be sad and I watched IM live. Drinking an entire bottle of wine and getting completely drunk off my ass WOULD have been appropriate, save for the fact that I'm on blood thinners and am therefore limited to 2 X 4 oz servings (of wine). <br /><br />Bloody fantastic.<br /><br />There's not really much else I can say about that. Oh well. <span style="font-style:italic;">Bah fucking humbug.</span><br /><br />But I <span style="font-style:italic;">was </span>cheered and buoyed by the fact that Sunday morning, I would be cheering Julia (Team Minnesota!!) and Seeley (Team Florida!!) at the Best of the US National Championships, about an hour north of me, in Mission Viejo, CA.<br /><br />I wasn't sure how I would feel about race spectating. I did a lot of that after breaking my back, and it was difficult - I wanted to much to be out there, competing, participating, <span style="font-style:italic;">racing</span>. But the 2010 lupus/DVT/PE versus 2008 broken back is VERY different, as is my mentality from one situation to the other. I feel like such a different person now, from who I was back in 2008; and the life-lessons I learned then, are <span style="font-style:italic;">(without a doubt) </span>helping me now. If it's possible to age 50+ years in a relatively short time frame, I think I would fit the bill.<br /><br />4:20 am Sunday rolled around, and after minor cursing at my alarm and plenty of coffee consumption, I was headed north on the 5 by 5:15. The benefit of an early-wake-up call? VERY light traffic into Orange County. I only got lost once and before too long was walking the half-mile stretch from where I parked the car to the race site. I may have stopped to pee in the bushes once along the way, but I can neither confirm nor deny such actions.<br /><br />It was GREAT seeing Julia, and meeting Rich (her fantastic hubby) for a second time. My job, aside from cheering my lungs out and being the best race Sherpa I could possibly be, was to take fun pictures. Yes, I may have brought multiple cameras, but I've never gone to a race with the mindset of capturing images... It's always been about racing and cheering. Plus - as a former racer, I have the benefit of knowing all the cool pictures I would have LOVED to have seen while I was racing.<br /><br />Plus, I really like the "Best of the US" triathlon series. Jerry and Trudy (race organizers) are icons in the sport and truly fantastic people. I wanted to give them both hugs (which I did!).<br /><br />Julia was a stud - leading the chase pack out of the water, working hard on the bike, and bringing it home on the run. But I'll let her share that on her race report. It was also awesome to cheer on Seeley - and I was SUPER happy to see her running to a Top-5 finish. <br /><br />I think what I noticed most about these athletes - these top triathletes from their respective states - was their drive and determination. No matter the circumstances or challenges - goggles getting kicked off, bike headset slipping, or hot temperatures on the run - they <span style="font-style:italic;">pushed</span> through. They kept going, fighting to the very end. And the reason they were able to persevere through the ups and downs of racing? Because they practice... they train through those difficult moments.... and they are hungry for personal victory (whatever their definition of victory may be).<br /><br />I think that's what I miss most about the sport - not so much crossing the finish line <span style="font-style:italic;">(although that's always an amazing feeling), </span>but I've never felt so alive as I have in those times were I <span style="font-style:italic;">KNEW </span>things were hard, where I wanted to slow down and stop...<span style="font-style:italic;">but I didn't!</span> When my drive, determination, my mental focus as an athlete overrode any instinct to give in. The feeling of beating the odds, of breaking barriers, of raising one's performance to the next level is an incredible one.<br /><br />I believe that I'll experience this in the future, one day - through running or swimming... I know that whenever I reach the top of a mountain peak, I feel that sense of elation, that feeling of being alive and persevering through. Quitting is always an option - but I didn't cave, didn't give up, didn't give in.<br /><br />And who knows? Maybe I'll enter a triathlon at the last minute if I'm feeling okay.... Never say never. It's not just about being on blood thinners - because if it were just that, I think I would eventually be comfortable racing (indoor trainer workouts... closed race courses.... etc). <br /><br />But the health complications of the lupus just downright suck. <span style="font-style:italic;">(Yes, I am very eloquent with my words, am I not?). </span>I NEVER want to feel the way I felt going into Kona last year... and then again earlier this year, getting sick over and over and watching my dreams of racing with each subsequent illness, slip a little further away. How many times can one's heart break?<br /><br />I never know how I'll feel each day when I wake up... some days are great, while others I feel like shit <span style="font-style:italic;">(from late August last year going into Kona and then the months after - every day I felt like shit... but I chalked it up to the training, to the race. At least now, I DO have regular days where I feel fine!)</span>. As for the good days vs shit days, I'm never sure if it's because I'm dealing with a flareup, or if I just woke up in the middle of the night and - <span style="font-style:italic;">um, for example</span> - ate peanut butter by the spoonful. I guess my thought-process with this feels so undefined, because I'm still figuring things out for myself. <br /><br />And I'm probably still in a bit of denial over everything. Yeah, that too. It's one thing to say it... it's an entirely different beast to <span style="font-style:italic;">feel </span>it, deal with it, and accept it. It's a work-in-progress. That's all I can say.<br /><br />Racing and training is supposed to be fun - and I need to be in the mentality (and understand) that <span style="font-style:italic;">'Hey - I have this thing, this auto-immune disorder where my body just (for lack of a better word) doesn't "work normally". I look healthy... I act healthy... I eat a very healthy diet, exercise, do all the "right" things - but I just have this thing, and my body is different.'</span> I'm still thinking this one through, still learning to deal with this aspect of life. Talking to Rich - a cancer survivor - was extremely helpful...picking his brain about these things while Julia raced, was a very good thing for me.<br /><br />Back to racing....<br /><br />It's wonderful to watch people do this - to make their dreams come true. I guess that's also why I love the sport....because anything is possible. Oh - and the people ROCK. <span style="font-style:italic;">(Oh - and if you ever see me at an event, PLEASE come say hi! Marta - it was SUPER to meet you!)</span><br /><br />And finally... a few pictures from the race. CONGRATULATIONS to everyone who raced - good races, bad races, and everything in between. It is NOT easy putting yourself out there, facing the many challenges associated with competition. But you did it - congratulations to all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6sdUbhatCb3jpSelVjUi3zsVcu8cKUHQL78VzEsez-_iNj0G5n10ZB4crZPshyw7TT2TPagyKYmnRguuQolvEMvstoWhk7POGKnxd9QINIdnizFe6dqD5R3hO3IOWoAOhSvuj5dQbuE/s1600/DSC_0285+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6sdUbhatCb3jpSelVjUi3zsVcu8cKUHQL78VzEsez-_iNj0G5n10ZB4crZPshyw7TT2TPagyKYmnRguuQolvEMvstoWhk7POGKnxd9QINIdnizFe6dqD5R3hO3IOWoAOhSvuj5dQbuE/s320/DSC_0285+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527258813593234802" /></a>Pre-race happy! Don't let the smile fool you - she's actually really fierce.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIlJHvHC3s2zp2hfeLcW1zRowYK0_9nFxzhrfxD-g_bGMCDOwPpf_aOQqCnX-rH8YXJVDdMeqKn-DdV7M4ug3-jZDt5sCMTe3fj1-7RB_k-C6M1_5J7-VPvj-owZ2Qoe8CLs-L1hdJag/s1600/DSC_0295+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIlJHvHC3s2zp2hfeLcW1zRowYK0_9nFxzhrfxD-g_bGMCDOwPpf_aOQqCnX-rH8YXJVDdMeqKn-DdV7M4ug3-jZDt5sCMTe3fj1-7RB_k-C6M1_5J7-VPvj-owZ2Qoe8CLs-L1hdJag/s320/DSC_0295+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527258804064071138" /></a>Lining up under the start banner.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPb-8aOZ_Wbt5t5NATv8sYNE11BpZ1X5SMPzs8jID-nlRn5pIZza1ouu4P6zmlG45PfUqt3n3-kEtYi_zNbhmLZpfVuGIiZ1o4bOHdahKQdza38cAsH7AAVJA4GnXgHgGChI0rGgHUbA/s1600/DSC_0304+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPb-8aOZ_Wbt5t5NATv8sYNE11BpZ1X5SMPzs8jID-nlRn5pIZza1ouu4P6zmlG45PfUqt3n3-kEtYi_zNbhmLZpfVuGIiZ1o4bOHdahKQdza38cAsH7AAVJA4GnXgHgGChI0rGgHUbA/s320/DSC_0304+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527258799647765586" /></a>Best of the US - Men's start!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-z7LCeqObZqjmQ1XnVbuz5LMNp3SQAn9IlwMluYtIqkFR_T1BPyEEBJusYoohUAxqv5vg7R8gGfJbb_YojT0ba-7QVIlcYN_2lVqUfYN_3KJqzP_ZAswrfoEHfIxLjoFiqerrc-lPOc/s1600/DSC_0309+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-z7LCeqObZqjmQ1XnVbuz5LMNp3SQAn9IlwMluYtIqkFR_T1BPyEEBJusYoohUAxqv5vg7R8gGfJbb_YojT0ba-7QVIlcYN_2lVqUfYN_3KJqzP_ZAswrfoEHfIxLjoFiqerrc-lPOc/s320/DSC_0309+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527258787450577314" /></a>Breaking the surface in those first few race moments...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrX9uOruR4u5s-qRfcqZhkGQHyeggAXKsyESVQGFcpGEBMXtNXczrl29opzvcn4rR51pFUtlxl3ToDDODkh-yj-SDI589e03k-RJun_NjXLZWI8pts8fVHU9hKPOL3dIQAalOmOGFR0g/s1600/DSC_0312+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrX9uOruR4u5s-qRfcqZhkGQHyeggAXKsyESVQGFcpGEBMXtNXczrl29opzvcn4rR51pFUtlxl3ToDDODkh-yj-SDI589e03k-RJun_NjXLZWI8pts8fVHU9hKPOL3dIQAalOmOGFR0g/s320/DSC_0312+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527258785962088770" /></a>Best of the US women running in the water.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxTlIUzj69B0BXeC-S0qj5J4fC0PjMGSme-vjzzBg8MDn0XUGNGixauQ0uVWYP6wb-qQD34pUtXV2yLu2Jp5e3cDxy9kYovQfGb5NB1b-B22CMxDDjhsEWnBOGmO4qmRnECwWny6LiVxM/s1600/DSC_0319+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxTlIUzj69B0BXeC-S0qj5J4fC0PjMGSme-vjzzBg8MDn0XUGNGixauQ0uVWYP6wb-qQD34pUtXV2yLu2Jp5e3cDxy9kYovQfGb5NB1b-B22CMxDDjhsEWnBOGmO4qmRnECwWny6LiVxM/s320/DSC_0319+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527257110159574370" /></a>Sunrise over the lake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaxRAX31FisPAC-3TyLa6HM3MpmsO2moDyEr_vrWHkTcXMSK6dBDBAW2zd_bgzl8PrCYzPjfUsq3kAswMKzOIBFwEHW78dFiB0m-0HsrJLBX1LmHOnnrn3waGWAZj-ZLdCUS2wJr39FY/s1600/DSC_0324+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaxRAX31FisPAC-3TyLa6HM3MpmsO2moDyEr_vrWHkTcXMSK6dBDBAW2zd_bgzl8PrCYzPjfUsq3kAswMKzOIBFwEHW78dFiB0m-0HsrJLBX1LmHOnnrn3waGWAZj-ZLdCUS2wJr39FY/s320/DSC_0324+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527257100874959346" /></a>A lone swimmer rounds the final turn buoy, under the watchful eye of a lifeguard. And my favorite picture from the day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdW5vfxTQSen4i7lkWp8Re31QIdwWRTZX4bh_nHYhOpLgOoVxc4ZIJJW2ZQpUO8AD1igjmxeN0BkTaJQsREXZGkmyNE3IZxayjjgdce_c8CLg6RUQqr3-02d7tgMa6poW8B788v9KV60E/s1600/DSC_0337+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdW5vfxTQSen4i7lkWp8Re31QIdwWRTZX4bh_nHYhOpLgOoVxc4ZIJJW2ZQpUO8AD1igjmxeN0BkTaJQsREXZGkmyNE3IZxayjjgdce_c8CLg6RUQqr3-02d7tgMa6poW8B788v9KV60E/s320/DSC_0337+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527257088429795410" /></a>Julia, leading the women's chase pack out of the water.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQnQtzsyIgrv7kgSOsSLC0FXv2AoE2zpTAgkfy1kKzdOzGFsDlmtKBkxxz_1bpZJkpTon3Up2stm3GkYKIku9V5juuSHgy9A8uJmGVngS-uV0duKcDbnXKFC25YhyJ_E7ExGIR6Gatg0/s1600/DSC_0344+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQnQtzsyIgrv7kgSOsSLC0FXv2AoE2zpTAgkfy1kKzdOzGFsDlmtKBkxxz_1bpZJkpTon3Up2stm3GkYKIku9V5juuSHgy9A8uJmGVngS-uV0duKcDbnXKFC25YhyJ_E7ExGIR6Gatg0/s320/DSC_0344+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527257080903759730" /></a>Getting ready to ride!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk7hkaDiVgjDAv1YberTj0F0Ck0nt9hXGvORTscvcCBa0ItecEWSej0C2bxWLgMFTbr07EBl3yXaeKWywlycqsqii1VWsbzOo4cn70aN1P3PZNvybmMrxLzYBYsvDVecc3QDYi_nzACc/s1600/DSC_0351+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk7hkaDiVgjDAv1YberTj0F0Ck0nt9hXGvORTscvcCBa0ItecEWSej0C2bxWLgMFTbr07EBl3yXaeKWywlycqsqii1VWsbzOo4cn70aN1P3PZNvybmMrxLzYBYsvDVecc3QDYi_nzACc/s320/DSC_0351+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527257069975486834" /></a>...which is exactly why Rich and I walked the 2 miles to T2, and then ran back to T1/Start/Finish to see the race end.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgToDAFuSr4fyZ90kqn-5C116xz6kKiFOZBlkI6dhh1kdmlF0YmuSQBunDO7IOJp3r0Gp8j_uON5-L4RBXGsNFi7S4gGXT6aOAOmEf1ID8ynD6RCYos7rugKt3F3oGrchK8m968f5deugE/s1600/DSC_0358+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgToDAFuSr4fyZ90kqn-5C116xz6kKiFOZBlkI6dhh1kdmlF0YmuSQBunDO7IOJp3r0Gp8j_uON5-L4RBXGsNFi7S4gGXT6aOAOmEf1ID8ynD6RCYos7rugKt3F3oGrchK8m968f5deugE/s320/DSC_0358+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527254777286932546" /></a>Men's leader into T2 - I think this is Bruce Genari, of Team Timex, but don't quote me on that. His dismount was a thing of beauty.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-TEJC0s6aA1-ZPTW8i0MpJyWv2rmS8oVZ3tEhbdk_IilBxPN1MVn7i8EF7mTHA32rTm7lEUVZL55jOZeHZyRNdB0o0LmhkmU_dBg0kFtSvrwfItwwE6PphxVhjwcFC8d88BPiN7n6vo/s1600/DSC_0366+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-TEJC0s6aA1-ZPTW8i0MpJyWv2rmS8oVZ3tEhbdk_IilBxPN1MVn7i8EF7mTHA32rTm7lEUVZL55jOZeHZyRNdB0o0LmhkmU_dBg0kFtSvrwfItwwE6PphxVhjwcFC8d88BPiN7n6vo/s320/DSC_0366+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527254762007771762" /></a>Look - I'm wearing pink socks! If I'm wearing compression hosen for medical purposes, does that take away the nerd factor, or increase it? At least my legs are almost the same size.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qPPj6tbTglY8xIy8PLaJUfUg8Byik1IO-g6zWzAX1JixYpzCFSnJ_3nPQ3YyqEn1HC0BJ5uP0NVCw1F472etmCYnRNOo7QOdCP63V31VXrHo2AjjwuqVYB-VV7gVk46qLUo1i13HBxM/s1600/DSC_0394+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qPPj6tbTglY8xIy8PLaJUfUg8Byik1IO-g6zWzAX1JixYpzCFSnJ_3nPQ3YyqEn1HC0BJ5uP0NVCw1F472etmCYnRNOo7QOdCP63V31VXrHo2AjjwuqVYB-VV7gVk46qLUo1i13HBxM/s320/DSC_0394+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527254758143758530" /></a>Julia, approaching T2. Yes, she had a dismount that even Jen Harrison would be proud of. Clearly, she's been practicing!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FXlp4qgWot-xf8DpJ6HyTPudWWozRCXkBdcxjupwK1poxeOo18dOrMdA43gKayaPDR56NNQDrcOVMcI_X3L0zpeSKOXqMRjke0DNd1-6kijQeGoK2UYhbdXNsSfxWFyS4nwopffxK78/s1600/DSC_0418+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FXlp4qgWot-xf8DpJ6HyTPudWWozRCXkBdcxjupwK1poxeOo18dOrMdA43gKayaPDR56NNQDrcOVMcI_X3L0zpeSKOXqMRjke0DNd1-6kijQeGoK2UYhbdXNsSfxWFyS4nwopffxK78/s320/DSC_0418+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527254744671347106" /></a>BOUS Men's champion from Alaska!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CPZGqbKcd5pBEj8e8lp3ihU_7iZhq0_4AuODR7zrwzXURCzMe1nLekLBVnnN4tbPSiCjFvnOfQTWbAplA-F_rgXhUmhw6xGRicpBscq8l_-tp5KiAEvIlmHRtWydDTIVRCKaUWMH900/s1600/DSC_0440+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CPZGqbKcd5pBEj8e8lp3ihU_7iZhq0_4AuODR7zrwzXURCzMe1nLekLBVnnN4tbPSiCjFvnOfQTWbAplA-F_rgXhUmhw6xGRicpBscq8l_-tp5KiAEvIlmHRtWydDTIVRCKaUWMH900/s320/DSC_0440+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527254732477754482" /></a>Seeley, focused to the end.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVS0Mj3uKrVM0qjUY0Di-n0e-pn59OM6DYVaMc7ZI07sKNa_IEGvxXNltEwtkU-V8q3mSYP3DEYb1g_-lMz5ckRQVgcOg7mWL4raLf-A8zxfmE6iYr_KTNS88RKJ8BTyHsxLhnTZcbXc/s1600/DSC_0427+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVS0Mj3uKrVM0qjUY0Di-n0e-pn59OM6DYVaMc7ZI07sKNa_IEGvxXNltEwtkU-V8q3mSYP3DEYb1g_-lMz5ckRQVgcOg7mWL4raLf-A8zxfmE6iYr_KTNS88RKJ8BTyHsxLhnTZcbXc/s320/DSC_0427+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527252869923132386" /></a>I recognize that flag! Yes... you can take the girl out of Minnesota, (but as I've said before) - you can't take the Minnesota out of the girl. It is and will forever be, home.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQC_NoX4hz63SZNEm8L9eA5ImqrXEe-BAFWjjaWrdoNY1pU_aNI4rfJ6zl3RHmjmWBXG6O2KPRdWuCmrgNHclHQoTu0x_4irvCfdhdOPe3KsfaD-DIiSkdvhlALhtd-jQXTwarD_m07M/s1600/DSC_0446+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQC_NoX4hz63SZNEm8L9eA5ImqrXEe-BAFWjjaWrdoNY1pU_aNI4rfJ6zl3RHmjmWBXG6O2KPRdWuCmrgNHclHQoTu0x_4irvCfdhdOPe3KsfaD-DIiSkdvhlALhtd-jQXTwarD_m07M/s320/DSC_0446+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527252860206747442" /></a>I love this picture - because it epitomizes what racing is. These women were not racing to win...but fighting for 6th place. And, um... those are the best looking abs EVER. I can say without any abashment or shame, that I'm jealous.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_spezhtI4yK05heVMjjcJI6HzSi_e211shipr2qwSPMoldxZkmDNqJa5dVIcgy2qdn-aZAZkC9Ung9s0GEIZHRMjQXjBDLcwt7xo424zSH6AHdI9Q-GKNydjNyfjuHyyogd2wl49xA_g/s1600/DSC_0466+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_spezhtI4yK05heVMjjcJI6HzSi_e211shipr2qwSPMoldxZkmDNqJa5dVIcgy2qdn-aZAZkC9Ung9s0GEIZHRMjQXjBDLcwt7xo424zSH6AHdI9Q-GKNydjNyfjuHyyogd2wl49xA_g/s320/DSC_0466+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527252850341477202" /></a>Rich and Julia, in one of those beautiful moments.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-cp75sjTdinbvc1H-Fa9_JjkptCx8lF9ICAWyzoQw0CJvtNcxtAegARpGOLZVB6POa_C9x15vD0O6nN5awf-iAgv7ouKnMqZrUdVNgD88BHS82UH1vE2Y8v5P6hXQmwc_sqH4iJojoY/s1600/DSC_0473+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-cp75sjTdinbvc1H-Fa9_JjkptCx8lF9ICAWyzoQw0CJvtNcxtAegARpGOLZVB6POa_C9x15vD0O6nN5awf-iAgv7ouKnMqZrUdVNgD88BHS82UH1vE2Y8v5P6hXQmwc_sqH4iJojoY/s320/DSC_0473+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527252839928737970" /></a>My friends - Julia and Seeley! Post-race smiles!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSrEpJ0MUPvpiwGVKhP6ckST-W9x4T6AqMmqY_e5bnV5nn2PFFjRvvUpCGqyqqB0Ko7WSPN1wL0zVR6KaX74PxjSyG8olNdVm_mhAUMnIC_zK9xG170DewFTAQ1fR14ofaYq9eP_xXWs/s1600/DSC_0479+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSrEpJ0MUPvpiwGVKhP6ckST-W9x4T6AqMmqY_e5bnV5nn2PFFjRvvUpCGqyqqB0Ko7WSPN1wL0zVR6KaX74PxjSyG8olNdVm_mhAUMnIC_zK9xG170DewFTAQ1fR14ofaYq9eP_xXWs/s320/DSC_0479+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527252828305579554" /></a>I think we've all been here, at some point or another.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGJ0ehE-BQhZcJPIWl-CdaMFmKV5lzqDrpGysHVS_5QtKvLm8BFSSopXHuas3V74wJnDA_RjSe8sYHFTo_FqC8_FZOfxZB0QXVyXKG7SNNqIpsYbqG77XnQ3CFplKTjrG8Sh_why0jIo/s1600/DSC_0492+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGJ0ehE-BQhZcJPIWl-CdaMFmKV5lzqDrpGysHVS_5QtKvLm8BFSSopXHuas3V74wJnDA_RjSe8sYHFTo_FqC8_FZOfxZB0QXVyXKG7SNNqIpsYbqG77XnQ3CFplKTjrG8Sh_why0jIo/s320/DSC_0492+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527251093156648178" /></a>Though it was very warm at the end of the race, arm warmers are becoming an awesome fashion-statement. I feel "hot" (literally) wearing them (but oddly enough, not out of place). If it helps with my sun exposure, well, then - there you go. At least I can be outside, <span style="font-style:italic;">right?</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwbEBmfwsHpBHipalhOJtsryaoN3IVSsQ7mRHD12MZOe630zn5AI0PlEPkrniX9vAaXj1Iekzz4uzNC7e4a_FgQt_x-XQxFBu1TzmH818OhZwHrvj03TrmhoyHJFvN9QqisthV8uve4E/s1600/DSC_0496+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwbEBmfwsHpBHipalhOJtsryaoN3IVSsQ7mRHD12MZOe630zn5AI0PlEPkrniX9vAaXj1Iekzz4uzNC7e4a_FgQt_x-XQxFBu1TzmH818OhZwHrvj03TrmhoyHJFvN9QqisthV8uve4E/s320/DSC_0496+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527251081829753266" /></a>Julia, under the race start, with Lake Mission Viejo behind her. Man, I would have LOVED to be in that water.... NO SHARKS!!!! Hello?!? That is huge for me! For what it's worth... I brought my swimsuit, just in case.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjksQ9H5o8QTQw-TtR5EX4CcEHKVqIkaLseE7wGSx_ba9_gS9VZ_O45rReUHDhF-J5XDkVjyH6weP1WTtLLRhRCcGh-BXotsOsvPKeHgb88hpJ21jeKU3Hixu3Z7La-4YNFpbsyZUxjBL0/s1600/DSC_0501+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjksQ9H5o8QTQw-TtR5EX4CcEHKVqIkaLseE7wGSx_ba9_gS9VZ_O45rReUHDhF-J5XDkVjyH6weP1WTtLLRhRCcGh-BXotsOsvPKeHgb88hpJ21jeKU3Hixu3Z7La-4YNFpbsyZUxjBL0/s320/DSC_0501+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527251074857564802" /></a>Free post-race smoothies. I may never leave.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_Jwu8fckiqnkk8KnUlGXYMPtTBHuSnDVTe_coAJHCTX46cU58cl_BLzZIjV467HJMxT260AUsPCNyiS1KvOnobk__bKAjIrHy5OaVXt6BvY-_poC56sTV-puoj_wE9hBbxvuwGzDLrI/s1600/DSC_0515+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_Jwu8fckiqnkk8KnUlGXYMPtTBHuSnDVTe_coAJHCTX46cU58cl_BLzZIjV467HJMxT260AUsPCNyiS1KvOnobk__bKAjIrHy5OaVXt6BvY-_poC56sTV-puoj_wE9hBbxvuwGzDLrI/s320/DSC_0515+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527251069553574834" /></a>Team Minnesota - 3rd Overall in the "Best of the US" team race! HOORAY!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfhFiEcXBWzLPp2-B8fbHOVMW4uXNFfN-H7dufop87ciUjPt6geXUV8yjiviDD3dcCAelQWNno5_R-j3rcGl-gIGnnn6mxaBZ95bxVlZIU_PCUQtSKG_bfNhYBcfCp2hyCep50knPbcE/s1600/Julia.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfhFiEcXBWzLPp2-B8fbHOVMW4uXNFfN-H7dufop87ciUjPt6geXUV8yjiviDD3dcCAelQWNno5_R-j3rcGl-gIGnnn6mxaBZ95bxVlZIU_PCUQtSKG_bfNhYBcfCp2hyCep50knPbcE/s320/Julia.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527251064431781410" /></a>Sometimes you just have those moments where everything is "right", and you feel like you're walking on air. Julia - booking it to the finish!Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-67612948411397661442010-10-08T10:10:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:45:34.491-07:00Scattered Randomness<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoaSVbTou0VNrsq1QnA-anF57QAoS2XX6q5v0LdYDnZt0rFqjXFljmCOUmpd52dCtCKjX688D8UGYLWoQtDMYe0kkGzkNuAnbb2J09Edfv9ztu-CsHP2ii_4vhFZ2tEDxKHdjdQNyUr4o/s1600/Yosemite+Day+4+deciding+to+stay+extra+-+May+Lake.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoaSVbTou0VNrsq1QnA-anF57QAoS2XX6q5v0LdYDnZt0rFqjXFljmCOUmpd52dCtCKjX688D8UGYLWoQtDMYe0kkGzkNuAnbb2J09Edfv9ztu-CsHP2ii_4vhFZ2tEDxKHdjdQNyUr4o/s200/Yosemite+Day+4+deciding+to+stay+extra+-+May+Lake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525731972945649714" /></a>I've got the itch to write - but I don't really know <span style="font-style:italic;">what</span> to say. Ever have those moments? I think we all do. Just scattered randomness. So....while many embark on this race weekend, I've been thinking the following.<br /><br />In no particular order....<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(cue harp dream music)</span><br /><br />- Even though I had fun in Kona, I am SO happy that I'm not racing the Ironman. But that's today. Tomorrow.... well - tomorrow I'm sure that I'll wish I could be running down Ali'i drive. Alls I can say kids: <span style="font-weight:bold;">LOVE it while you live it</span>, because you never know how or when life will change. I'm not mad or upset - sure I'm a little sad... but that's just because there are many aspects of the sport that I miss. And given everything that's happened, I think that's a pretty normal response.<br /><br />- I have a sneaking suspicion that Shitty Kitty is allergic to wheat. <span style="font-style:italic;">Is that even possible in a cat? </span>Low and behold, I changed up her food from Science Diet to some Organic Cat Stuff <span style="font-style:italic;">(written while rolling my eyes)</span>, and no more projectile cat vomit.<br /><br />- I nearly drove off the road when I heard the public radio commercial advertising the season opener of the La Jolla Symphony Orchestra. <span style="font-style:italic;">Holy Cow - that's me!!</span> Well - me and 150 of my closest orchestra friends. <br /><br />- It is a truth universally acknowledged, that the minute you buy a bag of coffee beans from a coffee shop - you see the <span style="font-style:italic;">same</span> bag of beans on sale for $5 less at your grocery store. <br /><br />- A slice of Minnesota is coming my way! Good friend, fellow blogger, and Jen Harrison athlete-extraordinaire Julia, is in town racing "Best of the US" up in Mission Viejo on Sunday. Sure, I'm excited to watch her race - but when she asked if I wanted anything from home - my response? <span style="font-style:italic;">A Pearson's Nut Goodie, please.</span> Clearly - you can take the girl out of Minnesota, but you can't take Minnesota out of the girl. And she's bringing a salted nut roll for Nathaniel. We are BOTH excited!<br /><br />- My cankle is going down! Yes, it's been a very very gradual process.... but still! Blowing out every vein in one's leg by growing a massive series of clots is NOT conducive to award-winning ankles. Or limbs. I've come to terms that I will never be a Leg Model - not that I was ever planning on it, but I always kept my options open. <span style="font-style:italic;">Hopefully you can detect the self-deprecation in there.</span> Anyway....there's less cankle and more definition in the ankle/lower leg region. Fantastic! <br /><br />- When a friend asks if you want to swim with her - even though the workout entails 4400 meters of "fun" stuff - you don't think twice. And I think that's the biggest difference of the Me from this year, versus the Me from last year. At this point in my life - training is a joy on the days I feel healthy enough to do it. For me - that's all that matters and makes all the difference in the world. Funny pictures and all.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJmQ2_JphoLVb4zviZTCQsw3GAcerFmLSUit0YLuXzMXTaqEsu7kJlp4csWcHzBY0TqSHoO-_V3Okieue-qCk1Cd_BommtWK9ZHUh23nCnU5x631gbHrxznsyk4ISt57rG1SetZwx1rM/s1600/fun.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJmQ2_JphoLVb4zviZTCQsw3GAcerFmLSUit0YLuXzMXTaqEsu7kJlp4csWcHzBY0TqSHoO-_V3Okieue-qCk1Cd_BommtWK9ZHUh23nCnU5x631gbHrxznsyk4ISt57rG1SetZwx1rM/s320/fun.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525729986068876050" /></a><br />Here's to taking life a little less seriously, enjoying what you have while you're doing it, and embracing the challenges! GOOD LUCK to everyone this weekend - my thoughts will be with you all.... Swift Wings my friends!Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-22543620832137862722010-10-01T09:56:00.000-07:002010-10-01T10:36:33.271-07:00The NEW Month!Am I the only one, or is everyone else happy to have September behind them? Yes - it was a long month, filled with lots of learning, growing, contemplation - serious bits like that. But there was also some fun stuff thrown in as well, for good measure. Just because.<br /><br />Well - you know. <span style="font-style:italic;">Just because</span>.... this is life and The Fun Stuff is important. (Alright - how many times can I say "stuff" in one post?)<br /><br />A few highlights....<br /><br />But before I post pictures - I just wanted to thank everyone. The comments were awesome, and the emails and phone calls really wonderful. Words can't express my gratitude, so I won't even try. I haven't gotten back to everyone, but I'm doing my best. Thank you - to each and everyone of you. It hasn't been an easy road, has it? But we ALL go through difficult times. Please know that your support and love has made all the difference.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ApKjFnlQe0x6JodJiNoFVfjP6eAjDWXO_8c8yPt2q1lW17-6xfm9WQrzjkRutytPDBUPQ5mCiTRM1b0BYHy5fbWDhLOuQkOgHse-ilCmiKEsnnb_OvpV3DceV0jQXfcPa44Ov6eFUCs/s1600/DSCN7501+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ApKjFnlQe0x6JodJiNoFVfjP6eAjDWXO_8c8yPt2q1lW17-6xfm9WQrzjkRutytPDBUPQ5mCiTRM1b0BYHy5fbWDhLOuQkOgHse-ilCmiKEsnnb_OvpV3DceV0jQXfcPa44Ov6eFUCs/s320/DSCN7501+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523127774221883890" /></a>Oceanside Pier Swim - I didn't get eaten. And I deserve the coke, even if I could only get a few sips down.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinu2tYrmDQzM1ka5SJqEtZdR6RcgQn4ywPMlLzHI-MlDTwm-PBP63xi0uH8NT8j62hErsR0FOt_z5OxWLaoh8L-kjjoN6pg_wCaStqDVEvlUvHAKmeJ8a9_PaAFwbzXuXB7YxVfe6fvTU/s1600/DSCN7942.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinu2tYrmDQzM1ka5SJqEtZdR6RcgQn4ywPMlLzHI-MlDTwm-PBP63xi0uH8NT8j62hErsR0FOt_z5OxWLaoh8L-kjjoN6pg_wCaStqDVEvlUvHAKmeJ8a9_PaAFwbzXuXB7YxVfe6fvTU/s320/DSCN7942.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523127769949480130" /></a>May Lake, High Sierra Camp - Yosemite National Park.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMNYswlPFSI_tal-PVxRpGeIgLh-VpFM4D0SPZylPQgCn6r3Ne13pym909LNjeEcSY3MjFkehS3fUUG4q-cyJqLgKljAeqtNBD55zCVNQ-3BMkJmph_v7QzhJ7K8e4SKH5ua8Ppk4Doc/s1600/DSCN8247.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMNYswlPFSI_tal-PVxRpGeIgLh-VpFM4D0SPZylPQgCn6r3Ne13pym909LNjeEcSY3MjFkehS3fUUG4q-cyJqLgKljAeqtNBD55zCVNQ-3BMkJmph_v7QzhJ7K8e4SKH5ua8Ppk4Doc/s320/DSCN8247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523127759956877682" /></a>Annabelle, my friend's daughter. I wish I had a green straw like that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWJDDrWQW-hZF_vgZIIkFUJww4Hv5A6NIiVBc_HG62TCNLCqZitx3IF2lExPiTyLzX6ruNQmp9N6H5NvxXxfJkco1S7QdOGLauqb9jzUhK5mECYaUWEJw2euaxQTu80rF2gAAMb1nyK70/s1600/DSCN8311+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWJDDrWQW-hZF_vgZIIkFUJww4Hv5A6NIiVBc_HG62TCNLCqZitx3IF2lExPiTyLzX6ruNQmp9N6H5NvxXxfJkco1S7QdOGLauqb9jzUhK5mECYaUWEJw2euaxQTu80rF2gAAMb1nyK70/s320/DSCN8311+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523127752399410546" /></a>Norman Rockwell, eat your heart out. Restaurant Week in San Diego...thankfully I was one of the designated drivers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeYp91UU7vVkWUpBVUb4D6XKHI6_boQjtuNLIzBVXoX1H_mpr7WcNjAaAQZwh8p0IDq_AoAxPOvxgsH-2mXnuHTb0cAVPPPIj03NONHsU0xycaDgh-NaPsNLIwwpLAMhKbKuDBlAAPuc/s1600/DSCN7412.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeYp91UU7vVkWUpBVUb4D6XKHI6_boQjtuNLIzBVXoX1H_mpr7WcNjAaAQZwh8p0IDq_AoAxPOvxgsH-2mXnuHTb0cAVPPPIj03NONHsU0xycaDgh-NaPsNLIwwpLAMhKbKuDBlAAPuc/s320/DSCN7412.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523127744314728322" /></a>Oceanside Pier.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZGbZgAA45s5nBQSgCPvWgRPEgaEkw2df53kXjUvcUh181cD5L3hrCBU8Hgv7N3xqMxNpB_6YYBEUdAcS1EpxfwqAGWlRTZHfK8BjJll86jIo2s4aB5LEQ5JSFkI26YXqFQdV6fu312M/s1600/IMG_0508+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZGbZgAA45s5nBQSgCPvWgRPEgaEkw2df53kXjUvcUh181cD5L3hrCBU8Hgv7N3xqMxNpB_6YYBEUdAcS1EpxfwqAGWlRTZHfK8BjJll86jIo2s4aB5LEQ5JSFkI26YXqFQdV6fu312M/s320/IMG_0508+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523131024671546594" /></a>Sometimes I feel like I'm in a threesome with a helicopter and my husband.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6jhnemNJGz-YWYBMSrXmIuq31doyQvP4Nbh457hNTVClFvGdXxEF_7n7JCm1FjEwB1J482X43pWs0GhOOm0u_GkeBbFms_nAiRq3X7YsNXtrYjCXln8UA0A5qk9loCrEa99_STGHE-U/s1600/DSCN8159.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6jhnemNJGz-YWYBMSrXmIuq31doyQvP4Nbh457hNTVClFvGdXxEF_7n7JCm1FjEwB1J482X43pWs0GhOOm0u_GkeBbFms_nAiRq3X7YsNXtrYjCXln8UA0A5qk9loCrEa99_STGHE-U/s320/DSCN8159.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523129117906207266" /></a>Big Bear Oktoberfest! Sponsored by Bud Light. Cheers!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj031OLyloN6PjRKsYK2h27-14-E2OK0dB-dJWROgfZoP_eZNGpjx1HmaKlJUPWP-jyHskiSCESyrGwVgOalF-OSLTd0jy9Lv49Otqpw6AHU-YfeC6cKFze_0oT-M9jxeIHvwUY3dPUePA/s1600/DSCN7892.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj031OLyloN6PjRKsYK2h27-14-E2OK0dB-dJWROgfZoP_eZNGpjx1HmaKlJUPWP-jyHskiSCESyrGwVgOalF-OSLTd0jy9Lv49Otqpw6AHU-YfeC6cKFze_0oT-M9jxeIHvwUY3dPUePA/s320/DSCN7892.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523129106923392050" /></a>I didn't have the heart to weigh my pack, but Tristan's came in at 32 pounds. Note the dust - there was LOTS of it!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcZBI6lFSAsTjiGMINwMYwfqu_fdcP1Fl8G25Ixk2DmjuMKKsRyNlzgJ98-qgsWByi83kuljBX0UlRw7UYQm-fHSbu5flySuMw0iiIi8qWP2X1wXdaWdTMQo1gAmvs8o3lTTMwm4bHvY/s1600/Mahler.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcZBI6lFSAsTjiGMINwMYwfqu_fdcP1Fl8G25Ixk2DmjuMKKsRyNlzgJ98-qgsWByi83kuljBX0UlRw7UYQm-fHSbu5flySuMw0iiIi8qWP2X1wXdaWdTMQo1gAmvs8o3lTTMwm4bHvY/s320/Mahler.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523129096212913522" /></a>The Symphony is in Session! Excerpt from Mahler's 1st Symphony. This means we're supposed to play <span style="font-style:italic;">really really really really really fast!</span> <br /><br />And with that - I'm off to practice Mahler. Cheers for October!Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-84856367386572006212010-09-23T10:58:00.000-07:002010-09-23T12:40:47.505-07:00A New Beginning<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCMizno2tL_84SE_m4uwoWuOc4adrolV8-N-A4GJMEjao6lNtZ6oa6pZURBecTja6Ch5mFcqRZUXc_6JU9yyWxO0ZhE_1fvuF2V6wqy8qvV0jimmV7-cKv-HStrphv2Pe8opDbPpIFSE/s1600/DSCN7694.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCMizno2tL_84SE_m4uwoWuOc4adrolV8-N-A4GJMEjao6lNtZ6oa6pZURBecTja6Ch5mFcqRZUXc_6JU9yyWxO0ZhE_1fvuF2V6wqy8qvV0jimmV7-cKv-HStrphv2Pe8opDbPpIFSE/s200/DSCN7694.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520190050629356290" /></a>Hello friends – it’s been a while since I’ve posted. You’ll have to forgive me – you see, I’ve started this post over and over again, but it never really came together the way I envisioned. And it’s a pretty important post, so I wanted to get it “right.” I guess talking about it makes it real, and up until a week or so ago, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that step We’ve been through a lot together – you and I – and this is just another phase, another part of the process. Thank you for your support – as always, it means the world. Read on!<br /><br />I’ve always felt that the mountains are calling my name. It doesn’t matter which ones or where; up until recently, climbing Mt. Palomar on my bike was “where I found myself”, I fell in love with Nathaniel all over again while hiking the rugged terrain of Alaska last year, and from my home in Southern California, I find great solace when looking towards the peaks of East County. <br /><br />Yes, the ocean is wonderful and blue, but give me a winding trail, the promise of a USGS survey marker (or not), hilly topography, and a group of willing friends, and I know – regardless of elevation gain (or loss), cold temperatures, and the threat of bears – I’ll be happy.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_m4p2bjxV_4clRwgBQD3IfBAYkq_hBXyHzMApALBosp6un_gs76NHbNvl-mk4UcAGZ2Cv26TFY2aIKMYCPwkcezvFw2DjuGLtwcwZCNLA-p7X1B-GJrq90MrIJuh8DvpI0thXRWcK6Y/s1600/Peering+over+the+edge+of+Clouds+Rest.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_m4p2bjxV_4clRwgBQD3IfBAYkq_hBXyHzMApALBosp6un_gs76NHbNvl-mk4UcAGZ2Cv26TFY2aIKMYCPwkcezvFw2DjuGLtwcwZCNLA-p7X1B-GJrq90MrIJuh8DvpI0thXRWcK6Y/s320/Peering+over+the+edge+of+Clouds+Rest.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520175928191271170" /></a><br />I never really knew how much I enjoyed hiking and backpacking until this past year – first as a way of recovering from last year’s Ironman Coeur d’Alene, and then more recently when I kept falling ill. Times were tough, as they would be for anyone, but I always felt happy while hiking distant peaks. I felt alive. I felt normal and healthy. I felt like myself.<br /><br />Training and preparation for races fell to the wayside, with one bad health episode after another. Between too many sinus infections to count, pneumonia, the DVT/PE (remember what I said?: GO to the nearest hospital IMMEDIATELY if you start getting a cankle or any sudden swelling) – this year has been completely different from last.<br /><br />I don’t have any regrets though, and I’m dealing with the anger and sadness. Nope – it’s not fair; but then again, life rarely is for anyone. And just when we think we’ve got “stuff” figured out, Mother Nature throws another curve ball our way. <br /><br />If anything, this year has taught me to roll with the punches, take myself less seriously, do the things I love with the people I love, tell Nathaniel I love him multiple times every day, call my friends and family more often, and embrace the simple pleasures – because at the end of the day, it’s the simple things that make the biggest difference.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl0IFRsMVAHn4bfyCISkHwxdsloBOECRhDXl4MM5D2liwlANmlno2tpeECmu_zbXs2Bw7cyvqPZAu3oSAVSRLl2RPj_9lSjD4xB5fHY8Rqzf3c436iZq56MDeSFGeq9Odacooj6iJFfP0/s1600/Jumping+for+joy!.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl0IFRsMVAHn4bfyCISkHwxdsloBOECRhDXl4MM5D2liwlANmlno2tpeECmu_zbXs2Bw7cyvqPZAu3oSAVSRLl2RPj_9lSjD4xB5fHY8Rqzf3c436iZq56MDeSFGeq9Odacooj6iJFfP0/s320/Jumping+for+joy!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520176560433740770" /></a> <br />For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had odd blood test results. My counts were always a bit off – too low on one end, not properly formed in a different way, with all sorts of different markers in between to add an extra bit of confusion and exasperation. I remember telling Nathaniel a little over a year ago that, “something isn’t right….” – but not knowing what it was OR how to test for it.<br /><br />When I switched to Scripps from the Navy Health Care, my doctors immediately noticed a few abnormalities. But we thought – in part – it was due to the pneumonia and multiple sinus infections. I was due for another round of blood tests late June or early July – but when my body decided to form, develop and grow a major thrombosis, and subsequently throw a sizeable clot into my lung (directly through my heart…. Do not pass Go….do not collect $200…. Go directly to Jail) – the planned testing fell to the wayside, and instead I had multiple blood drawings for various reasons.<br /><br />And still; my counts were off, my numbers were WAY out of whack….but there was no “real” indicator that something major was wrong. From the outside, I appeared a happy and healthy late 20-something female – with a love for Peanut Butter Cups and Swedish Fish. I was extremely active, did most of the things I wanted to do (minus the open water swimming bit… we ALL know my fear of sharks), and followed a healthy lifestyle. It just didn’t add up.<br /><br />Eventually (and trust me when I say this could be a LONG post, so I’ll cut to the chase) – I was referred to one doctor, who referred me to another doctor….who ordered an entirely new round of testing. A few results came back positive, and towards the end of August I found myself on a first name basis with the phlebotomists at my health clinic.<br /><br />Awesome.<br /><br />You know it’s just fantastic when you have multiple standing orders at the lab – from different doctors.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZi94AfZJNugp8yn4uhIEyMBwb5w-HNGGCG9w-p4p7Zqyckgj34CwaUD09tCmzUUujNO0wVRQ126T40Kvl-D5_0-TilVO5dRcMba-vVSZf7cE6lobLJQmWj8LqZpZam1sn9XEojycYaVo/s1600/35.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZi94AfZJNugp8yn4uhIEyMBwb5w-HNGGCG9w-p4p7Zqyckgj34CwaUD09tCmzUUujNO0wVRQ126T40Kvl-D5_0-TilVO5dRcMba-vVSZf7cE6lobLJQmWj8LqZpZam1sn9XEojycYaVo/s320/35.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520177019496449938" /></a><br />But throughout this ordeal – I kept reminding myself that it could be much worse….and that I have so much to be grateful for, am lucky in so many ways. I knew that Nathaniel was concerned, and he did the best he could to support me through this process. It’s hard answering his questions when, half the times, I didn’t even have the answers myself.<br /><br />When I was first given the prognosis of “lupus” – I didn’t know what that meant. Naturally I turned to Wikipedia (and yes – I’m sure my doctors are rolling their eyes), and other medical sources online. I wanted to know more about my diagnosis – information is, after all, power. Also, I wanted to be prepared for a long list of questions for my doctor(s).<br /><br />Would you be surprised, if I said that I researched and wrote down tons of questions?<br /><br />No – I didn’t think so. There were three full pages of inquiries (double sided). I’ve always been thorough.<br /><br />Essentially (and you’ll have to bear with me, as I’m still learning myself), Lupus is a type of auto-immune disorder, where one’s immune system attacks its own body’s cells and tissues. There’s no real understanding of why someone has it, and every case that presents itself is different. The course of the disease is extremely unpredictable, with periods of illness (called flares) alternating with remissions. Lupus is known as one of “The Great Imitators”, because it often mimics or is mistaken for other illnesses. Diagnoses can vary widely between patients, and some people can suffer for years with undiagnosed symptoms.<br /><br />In my case – my doctor’s believe that I’ve had this for at least ten years, but most likely many many more.<br /><br />The great news – is that we’ve got medication that can help control the flare-ups. I’m starting on a very basic Lupus medication, and we’ll see how my body responds to the therapy. I’m trying to stay positive; because I would rather know than not know.<br /><br />Thus far, my doctors believe that the Lupus is affecting me in three specific ways: 1) High Photosensitivity 2) Hematological 3) And I tested positive for something called Lupus Anticoagulant.<br /><br />What does this mean?<br /><br />Well – for starters, exposure to sunlight can affect my health. As someone who loves to be outside, leads an active lifestyle, and lives in Southern California – This. Just. Plain. Sucks. Ass. For years – in spite of copious amounts of sunscreen use – I’ve dealt with sunburns and redness. And the difficult part? I thought it was my fault – I thought I was doing something wrong. So…. Major photosensitivity – check. (Suddenly retirement to the Pacific Northwest or Alaska doesn’t seem so far reaching. Except for the bears, of course.)<br /><br />And my Photosensitivity in turn, can lead to Hematological flare-ups. Without getting into too much detail, my white blood count in extremely low, red blood cells are oddly shaped, and my body’s ability to fight off infection just plain sucks. And there’s some other stuff – but well, I’ve thrown a lot at you already. But it is what it is, and in spite of my best efforts – I can’t will myself to feel better. This is unlike a race, not at all like going for a run… I can’t just will myself to finish. It’s a different beast all unto itself; not tangible, something I can’t touch and make better through practice or perseverance. It’s all part of a process – one that I’ve gradually learned to accept.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw4cvdwU75vlrX0oHGkDMnqdEgFvOpwW1nojFb7Lz8ugW7KK3ui806eMNXai9-OU5Zi29HP2cknMyIOLQNcuEKlTHkHpuIxXRhYsDLZbf6V2MuH6_ijNmnRZbf4XHE43ZSKdPdba9kbM/s1600/Marit+on+falls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw4cvdwU75vlrX0oHGkDMnqdEgFvOpwW1nojFb7Lz8ugW7KK3ui806eMNXai9-OU5Zi29HP2cknMyIOLQNcuEKlTHkHpuIxXRhYsDLZbf6V2MuH6_ijNmnRZbf4XHE43ZSKdPdba9kbM/s320/Marit+on+falls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520177795601316610" /></a> <br />I don’t like it – but I’m learning to accept it. I think that’s why this post has been so difficult to write, and more difficult to publish.<br /><br />The third component is a bit trickier, and something that raises a red flag immediately, especially given my history of extreme DVT/PE. If you want someone who can grown one heckuva blood clot, that would be me. The Lupus Anticoagulant means that I naturally produce “sticky blood” and have a higher predisposition towards clotting. I’ve had two tests that both came out positive for this, and will be taking a third (blood test) in early November. As of now, we’re assuming that blood thinning medication will be a lifelong plan. <br /><br />I’ve spent the past three or four weeks trying to figure out what all of this means – both short term and long term. It’s no longer about training and racing….right now I just want to enjoy the Little Stuff with my friends and family – things that make me happy. And I’m grateful for the opportunities where I get to do just that.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcLNi6jbf7pQW9ALGpE_VZEeSoTb4wHoxwKg1zQiyhW2U74EXGmKlvWbm_FfkgSoZSmkDVUjoST7CAMlrCi1phuhCL8UttzelCvX7vqoLbIsUcTX3OHwzH3leahRBv6TyfOWoOwVwaHc/s1600/start+of+trail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcLNi6jbf7pQW9ALGpE_VZEeSoTb4wHoxwKg1zQiyhW2U74EXGmKlvWbm_FfkgSoZSmkDVUjoST7CAMlrCi1phuhCL8UttzelCvX7vqoLbIsUcTX3OHwzH3leahRBv6TyfOWoOwVwaHc/s320/start+of+trail.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520178335019276098" /></a> <br />The theory is that I’ve had a major flare-up since sometime last September 2009 – when I first started feeling ill and having breathing difficulties. I spent SO much time in the sun during my IM Hawaii buildup, and there were undoubtedly other stressors that triggered the flare. From a triathlon perspective, part of me is really sad when I think about this. I didn’t feel like “me” going into Kona, but chalked it up to Ironman training and the fatigue that can accumulate with a long season. I think I could have done so much better in Hawaii had I been healthy –<br /><br />And I’ve cried so much about that already that I don’t want to cry any more. Because looking back on it, that was seriously one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and it saddens me to think that I may not have had the race that I could have had – through no fault of my own accord.<br /><br />On the flip side…I wish I could go back and give myself a hug. I am so proud of what I did, of how I physically and mentally held it together throughout the entire IM process. And doing it while dealing with a major Lupus flare-up, makes me love the person that I am even more. It wasn’t easy – but I did it. I also have some pretty incredible friends and family to thank – your support means even more...I didn’t go it alone, that’s for sure.<br /><br /> And now I understand why it was so different from Ironman Coeur d’Alene. I never thought I would say this – but thank goodness for ‘May Grey’, ‘June Gloom’ and coastal fog. I never thought a weather phenomenon could affect my health for the better, but apparently it can.<br /><br />Remember what I said before about retiring in Alaska or the Pacific Northwest? Minus the bears, it sounds pretty darned good right about now.<br /><br />But to talk about my Lupus diagnosis in terms of triathlon seems silly and superficial. There is so much more at stake than this sport. <br /><br />My long term and short term goals remain largely the same: lead a happy and healthy life….doing things I love with the people I love. And as always – everything else is just icing on the proverbial sheet cake.<br /><br />When I first learned of my diagnosis – especially with regards to the hematological and lupus anticoagulant (and a lifetime on blood thinners) – my thoughts were not with this sport, or never racing a triathlon again (one of my new mottos: never say never). Instead, I thought about my life with Nathaniel.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeNhy7UcFF2EGmS8o472fy4jW1-naAty-k2Y0nDbSTb7elqgMCrkA60zEEbE5lGJTL88QjP-81eogrd0jZMEtXToexBTzthvu68gefvDBBBfPB5KzQc7iwwTTZuVgKzrrDvdgLmBeCSo/s1600/2+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeNhy7UcFF2EGmS8o472fy4jW1-naAty-k2Y0nDbSTb7elqgMCrkA60zEEbE5lGJTL88QjP-81eogrd0jZMEtXToexBTzthvu68gefvDBBBfPB5KzQc7iwwTTZuVgKzrrDvdgLmBeCSo/s320/2+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520179691915159362" /></a><br />Even though we’ve been together for over ten years (holy cow!) – there is still so much we want to do, an entire lifetime ahead of us. I would gladly trade all the sports in the world, if I could just wake up next to him, share a cup of coffee, and do all the things we love to do….the simple things. Going for a hike, walking to the Daily News Café for breakfast, Pizza Port for a pint…<br /><br /> The thought of NOT being able to enjoy life the way we have because of my health saddens and scares me. I know that I’m not the only one, though. Anyone (and their family/friends/loved ones) dealing with a major illness or health scare, shares these same sentiments.<br /><br />The flip side: I’m not willing to let my health get in the way of my happiness – because there is SO MUCH to be grateful for. So…. I might not be able to bike safely because of the blood thinners… but that doesn’t mean I can’t continue to run and swim. Or go backpacking with friends…Or dabble in outrigger canoeing….Or get in a rowing shell again….Or...climb 10,000+ foot peaks in search of a USGS Survey Marker while watching the sun set....Or – the possibilities are simply endless.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_8tamDCD1N5o4t2mDjpUxmzn7CulpJe-lpqYu-8VObmk-WVvMnIZ6Z2cFSNalixA76TpJl72cKNntk1vwkLhjf-S6I5DOTpOynjTQqNQNhoVPJIk-Hweu4xVvdnCRvVG1N2Kew6Tq6GA/s1600/Mt+Hoffman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_8tamDCD1N5o4t2mDjpUxmzn7CulpJe-lpqYu-8VObmk-WVvMnIZ6Z2cFSNalixA76TpJl72cKNntk1vwkLhjf-S6I5DOTpOynjTQqNQNhoVPJIk-Hweu4xVvdnCRvVG1N2Kew6Tq6GA/s320/Mt+Hoffman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520180616768657042" /></a><br />For so long I’ve been focused on triathlon and doing the very best that I can within this sport. And that takes A LOT of dedication, a large commitment – both from me, but also from my family/friends. Anyone who pursues a passion (athletics, but anything – for that matter… music….art….work….etc) – knows that it takes time, dedication, sacrifice, commitment, and a whole host of other adjectives. I think the most successful individuals are those who can balance – who manage to pursue excellence with having fun and enjoying life/family/friends/etc.<br /><br />Last year, I never ever ever would have spent a week backpacking through Yosemite. Not that I wouldn’t have wanted to… but I was too afraid of missing a key workout, of not being totally focused and 100% ready when I lined up on the starting line. That’s in part, what made me a successful athlete – that’s what it took for ME to be ready on the starting line. Complete focus… some people can do it differently, though. And that’s okay.<br /><br />This year, well – we all know that it’s been different. And as such, I’m doing things that I wouldn’t normally have done in the past. It’s not a bad thing; I’ve finally accepted the fact that I’m in a very different place. One isn’t “worse” or “better” than the other – it’s just called life.<br /><br />Not biking has been hard for me. And with a lifelong dependence for blood thinning medication, I have some pretty big personal doubts about my ability to race triathlon in the future. Staying healthy is hard enough, as I never know when I'll have another flare up, or how the flareup will affect me. As for the thin blood: it’s just not safe – and there are no guarantees. I’m at the point where, although I LOVE the sport – it’s the people IN the sport that I love more. Yes…I could probably still bike outside; but at what cost?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0J3sLnri14cJlaSrqW2Jqv9jxyNVcbOUMR0CpEy6iYbHf77UoGXlWKBx5RKU1K4tfZ-_JraHzJxPnRsLSziPk8BOW3FIOoEOJUsdU6ooqCg-qd-PI4qpuK1vERHhG8MYV8x2yF85bTE/s1600/DSCN7202+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0J3sLnri14cJlaSrqW2Jqv9jxyNVcbOUMR0CpEy6iYbHf77UoGXlWKBx5RKU1K4tfZ-_JraHzJxPnRsLSziPk8BOW3FIOoEOJUsdU6ooqCg-qd-PI4qpuK1vERHhG8MYV8x2yF85bTE/s320/DSCN7202+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520181778559036930" /></a><br />I know the chances of bike crashes and accidents are slim, and I’ve had a pretty safe record in the past. But I have crashed my fair bit as well…and I know how precious life is, how much I love my friends and family – internally bleeding to death because EMTs can’t stop my blood flow is NOT how I want to go. I don’t think I could happily ride my bike, if every time I went out, I was worried about my safety – worried that one crash and an inability to stop my blood flow could end it all.<br /><br />Seriously – knowing my luck, it would probably happen on my FIRST ride out. And for those who are wondering – this is EXACTLY why I have a hard time swimming in the open ocean. Yes – I love love love the water; but this is totally superseded by my conviction that with any stroke, I could be eaten by a giant shark below. Is it likely? No. But still…. The worry is there. Back to the bike and returning home safely-<br /><br />Honestly – I think about that every time I go for a ride…but to have it heightened by the knowledge that I’m a lifelong Coumadin person – that’s hard. Some people can deal with that, and maybe one day, I’ll be able to as well. I just know that in the interim, there are SO many things that make me happy – so many experiences that I get to enjoy. <br /><br />And at the end of the day, I want to be able to enjoy a long and happy life with my friends and family – doing the things that WE love to do. Together. The pressure of planning a race season and subsequently worrying about NOT getting sick is not something I want to deal with. The "not knowing" is the worst - as it is for many people. I’ve had a hard enough year, had enough near-death experiences that I’m a different person from 365 short days ago. I’m looking at life with a different pair of glasses, so to speak.<br /><br />I’ll continue to run and swim for as long as I can. And maybe I’ll hop into a rowing shell… it’s been 10 years since I rowed seriously – who knows? The worst that can happen is that I flip a boat – and having done that twice already, it’s not all that bad. Then there’s the backpacking…. Nathaniel and I are already planning a through hike of the Lake Superior Hiking Trail sometime next year (health permitting)… although I had such a fun time in Yosemite with a great group of friends, that I’m reconsidering…..<br /><br />Some of my happiest memories have been in the sport of triathlon. I wouldn’t be the person I am, without those experiences. I’ve also learned so much about myself – who I am, why I do the things I do, how to be happy – while participating in this sport. And I’ve made some of the most incredible, absolutely BEST friends ever. Triathlon (for me) is less about swim-bike-run, and more about the amazing athletes and supporters that I call friends.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5X3fPUt2ufKBCkywedZTJwBNvGZYY9pbOphxfItxB0fhVsv4NGZ3u9EV-KYov77KAcyYezqUn_0UqN4FY54dRtDazoAFhKNsTcI5RBly82bB0W_VZKqacRenYuWpU86WVvzT7DL7mIZM/s1600/camp+htfu+gals.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5X3fPUt2ufKBCkywedZTJwBNvGZYY9pbOphxfItxB0fhVsv4NGZ3u9EV-KYov77KAcyYezqUn_0UqN4FY54dRtDazoAFhKNsTcI5RBly82bB0W_VZKqacRenYuWpU86WVvzT7DL7mIZM/s320/camp+htfu+gals.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520189478557460098" /></a><br />I’m embarking on a new stage of my life. It’s been really hard to write this post – because I know to a certain extent, that I’m closing a door on one chapter of my life. But when one door closes, another always opens. At least – that’s how I’m looking at it. <br /><br />On a deeper level though – there are ALWAYS doors open, all around. It’s just a matter of whether or not we choose to go through them. For so long my door has lead me to the sport of triathlon and elite racing. Now – I find myself heading for a different path all together.<br /><br />I’ll still write and take pictures – continue to train for my November half marathon…but I’m excited about the prospects of trying new things. There is no “right” way to this wonderful adventure we call life. There will be some new bits as well – backpacking, and who knows what else? The possibilities are, I’m happy to say, endless.<br /><br />I’ll conclude by quoting myself – I was reading over my IM Hawaii race report the other day. Just before I started with the actual race report, I wrote the following. For what it’s worth – I still feel the same way today.<br /><br /><blockquote>It is what it is; it became what it was meant to be. And in the end, I can only take away the experiences and learn my lessons accordingly. This is life, and I feel very fortunate to have these opportunities in the first place. And for that I am grateful, and happy.</blockquote><br /><br />I guess some things always stay the same. Thank you for your love, friendship, and support. And as always – hug your family, tell your friends that you love them, and take the time to enjoy the little things… because that is what truly makes a difference, what makes us who we are.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRpqB_fh975P5aBKA9v2NXXrxfpTgVZylC55sQOAGtS8CIhlKIiV6RfKHlKbaPbcKbwas7YyVJlu8S73zPz7wOf4f6UHWneNCY2Dcj6HQHXkuyx_ZkBPjJCpc6A_-vvo4KZ3xBZY9mSg/s1600/Overlooking+Half+Dome.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRpqB_fh975P5aBKA9v2NXXrxfpTgVZylC55sQOAGtS8CIhlKIiV6RfKHlKbaPbcKbwas7YyVJlu8S73zPz7wOf4f6UHWneNCY2Dcj6HQHXkuyx_ZkBPjJCpc6A_-vvo4KZ3xBZY9mSg/s320/Overlooking+Half+Dome.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520188757196485106" /></a>Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-78974159557837241742010-08-30T08:45:00.000-07:002010-08-30T09:41:20.286-07:00Just getting it done.Another week has passed, and here we are. I'm not really sure if it's a major case of writer's block, or something else all together. For some reason, the motivation/urge/however-I-classify-it isn't there. <br /><br />And that's okay!<br /><br />Because <span style="font-style:italic;">(and I know that I'm not "technically" supposed to start a sentence with 'because'. But I will anyway, because we're friends)</span>. Because that's just how life rolls...and if it's one thing I've learned through past trials and tribulations: don't force it. <br /><br />So I'm not.<br /><br />(But that doesn't mean that you STOP all together or give up - no, no, no - not at all.) In the end, we take the good times with the bad and simply roll with it. Which is exactly what I'm doing.<br /><br />So now, I'm literally - just hanging out. Waiting for the symphony to start up again (yea yea yea!) in a few short weeks, looking forward to a few camping trips (yea yea yea!), and training for this awesome half marathon (yea yea yea!).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAiNdqP_F4_vEd7E7YSqK1IGfJalIh5QHZI2P7FZqTxeWFLXppDuiYSHlt1Q50wNcvOJbETlfDqpT8swmNc-Jbn8BAm7lF52wLKVPkscDpypCobCyiyA3AEoFscHapeRM-CUBTE4YlKbQ/s1600/DSCN7297.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAiNdqP_F4_vEd7E7YSqK1IGfJalIh5QHZI2P7FZqTxeWFLXppDuiYSHlt1Q50wNcvOJbETlfDqpT8swmNc-Jbn8BAm7lF52wLKVPkscDpypCobCyiyA3AEoFscHapeRM-CUBTE4YlKbQ/s320/DSCN7297.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511242024238118338" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">See - here I am "just hanging". Okay, okay - it was a kids rock wall and the holds were HUGE. But - as I sometimes feel like a big kid at heart, well - I see things like this and can't help myself. Oh - and apologies to the small child or animal that I plowed over in my haste to reach the rock wall.</span><br /><br />On the training front - I'm back to zone 1 and zone 2 only (mixed with the occasional 30-second burst of speed OR hill). I'm not bored - grateful for the ability to run and train the way I want (mostly!). <br /><br />However. But. However. <br /><br />I'm convinced that zone 1 and zone 2 are the "purgatory" parts of training - you're <span style="font-style:italic;">just there</span>. Zone 3, things are heating up, zone 4 you feel like you're in hell, and anything harder than that - well, my friends, it hurts so much that, by that point, endorphins have kicked in and hallucinations of the Pearly Gates may dance across your vision.<br /><br />But that's just me.<br /><br />Yesterday I did my longest run-to-date (well - since Kona last year and then this year of continual illness. Ugh). It was a 1 hour and 45 minute monstrosity. And I just did it. <span style="font-style:italic;">Ever have those days?</span> Silly me - of course you do.<br /><br />The run just needed to get done: It didn't have to be pretty, I didn't need to over-think the darned thing.... it. just. had. to. get. done.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Yeah.</span><br /><br />Just 1:45 of putting one foot in front of the other.<br /><br />Heading south down Pacific Coast Highway from Carlsbad to Leucadia, I felt like I had to force it... I felt slow <span style="font-style:italic;">(okay - I was going slow, but s-l-o-w-e-r), </span>and the time that it took me to reach one geographical feature to another seemed infinitely longer.... even though (according to my watch) - I was going at my normal space.<br /><br />Somewhere Einstein just smiled and muttered, <span style="font-style:italic;">"Relativity, Marit."</span><br /><br />But I told myself that - as long as I could get through the first 1:25 (don't laugh) - the final 20 minutes would be GREAT.... I would hit that runner's high, endorphins would kick in, and all that other good stuff. No hallucinations of heaven (thank goodness - because after everything this year, I'm not sure I want to experience that!), but those final 20 minutes did feel pretty darned good.<br /><br />Somewhere Jen just smiled. But I have no idea what she would say.<br /><br />And finally - because at this point the cat is out of the proverbial bag - my living room looks like a scrapbook store threw up. For real. Part of me is embarrassed to admit it. Because <span style="font-style:italic;">(whispered) </span>I'm not the scrap-booking type. Seriously people, I'm not. <br /><br />I'm an artist.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(And yes - you can laugh all you want).<br /></span><br />But, between the packets upon packets of stickers, different colored paper, photos, newspaper clippings, hole punchers, staple removers, various types of writing utensils, and <span style="font-style:italic;">(the kiss of death) </span>- the paper cutter - I think I'm getting dangerously close to crossing that fuzzy line from "creative" and "artistic" into "scrapbook-er."<br /><br />In my defense, it's a birthday present for Someone Special. And as that Someone Special was either on duty or flying all last weekend, that Someone Special has no clue. But there were a lot of people who contributed something special for Someone Special - and I would just like to say THANKS (you know who you are). So by the time he gets home this afternoon, my living room will no longer look like this:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5o-SxETjFemHmnLQ9Pn59hhruG2zqyizXVr8KNr0Rx7WNez_ElEV0kYrNfbqw3paUuEGmuBSGNwEblWMszLnNKhLazz0_wBlM-HRt_MeCsqLRu__pTCN5-z-mS94e1U3hIyoXx1BZvxs/s1600/DSCN7341.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5o-SxETjFemHmnLQ9Pn59hhruG2zqyizXVr8KNr0Rx7WNez_ElEV0kYrNfbqw3paUuEGmuBSGNwEblWMszLnNKhLazz0_wBlM-HRt_MeCsqLRu__pTCN5-z-mS94e1U3hIyoXx1BZvxs/s320/DSCN7341.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511242870243725250" /></a><br />Yes, cringe all you want. It looks like a paper store exploded.<br /><br />And with that, I need to attend to my "project". And then do some violin work of my own - September is just around the corner... and I can hardly wait.<br /><br />Here's to getting the job done, plodding through, and keeping it real. Congratulations to ALL who raced last weekend. AND the families and friends of those who raced - because in order to do the things we want with this amazing sport, the support of friends and families is instrumental. <br /><br />Oh, and House Monsters - yes, those as well.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-3435640918910480982010-08-23T22:29:00.000-07:002010-08-23T23:01:16.871-07:00Finding my way! (Two stationary wheels at a time)I couldn't help it and resistance was futile. Yes, it was a zillion degrees in San Marcos when our friends Ed and Michelle walked out of some awesome pizza place with me and Nathaniel. And sure, I had just stuffed myself silly with a Margharita Pizza and no less than four diet cokes.<br /><br />However.<br /><br />But...<br /><br />However.... I didn't care. Especially considering .the fact that I can no longer ride my bike outside due to the HEAVY dosage of blood thinners... And at this point, I'll hop onto just about anything with two wheels that is stationary and outside... Well, then, there you go.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUD1YcpkbCXOStrPQPjmf0zUqDWFIKMWfdaGMCDNsMNXCY8bkxZCOABGTS0KLwu3HChm1HtbZNk27Po8i4tq7gGmFHmXYOaWxj1yPR2N6KtOqGovhQzxNtyjZElMsJAuPaCB7jyU3qb1M/s1600/DSCN7200+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUD1YcpkbCXOStrPQPjmf0zUqDWFIKMWfdaGMCDNsMNXCY8bkxZCOABGTS0KLwu3HChm1HtbZNk27Po8i4tq7gGmFHmXYOaWxj1yPR2N6KtOqGovhQzxNtyjZElMsJAuPaCB7jyU3qb1M/s320/DSCN7200+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508846804981703170" /></a><br />And the added bonus: you can see definition in my ankle, DVT and all! <span style="font-style:italic;">Awesome!</span><br /><br />Seriously - it feels like Christmas came early!<br /><br />Speaking of early Christmas....even though I can't race triathlons, last Thursday my vascular surgeon assured me that I COULD still race....and suggested that I remain as active as possible.<br /><br />Open water swiming is out - thank you very much. We all know how I feel about sharks, and given the recent sightings of a 15-20 foot Great White just off La Jolla Shores, I am NOT interested in being eaten.<br /><br />However - running is a different story all together.<br /><br />So... <br /><br />Without further ado...<br /><br />...and with my doctor's permission....<br /><br />I signed up for the Silver Strands Half Marathon mid-November. And though it wasn't the season that I originally anticipated, I can safely say that I've learned quite a bit this year. But - I'll be totally honest. I am VERY excited about the training. The last time that I trained for running-only events was.. was... wow, um, in the 1990s. <br /><br />How many decades ago is that?<br /><br />Wait - don't answer.<br /><br />And yes - again - I have doctor's permission. (After he viewed the latest ultrasound, of course). I swear that I floated out of the office - and then, even before calling Nathaniel, emailed Jen and told her that WE were training for a November half marathon.<br /><br />It was awesome.<br /><br />So with that - I'm prepping for my first run test on Wednesday. Yes, I'm nervous. But I'm also going into it with NO expectations. Absolutely none. A year of Ironman training and racing, followed by a complete stop from sports all together due to a massive DVT/PE will take away any notions of speedy-ness.<br /><br />Which in the long term is great -<br /><br />Because all I can do at this point is throw my hands up, smile, and shout "HOORAY" - because it's those little things that make us happy, that make us who we are.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJuoQC1LLXZV19fZG25taYDENVn5-vF83qzgiT4QUTAbs0TfEEBJxjdPWXfZqOAhjt3IfIX699Ci5cMX8KGWWJZ0VhWTab50qBHKtD39Mwa0Z7k0ufQui-AMxBsWhsmWzOWpKd2LsUVw/s1600/DSCN7202+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJuoQC1LLXZV19fZG25taYDENVn5-vF83qzgiT4QUTAbs0TfEEBJxjdPWXfZqOAhjt3IfIX699Ci5cMX8KGWWJZ0VhWTab50qBHKtD39Mwa0Z7k0ufQui-AMxBsWhsmWzOWpKd2LsUVw/s320/DSCN7202+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508851986319488290" /></a>Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-8858788110225785372010-08-19T20:55:00.001-07:002010-08-19T21:47:59.187-07:00Sunset & MoonriseFor some reason, it happened today. I can't explain it, as I don't really understand it myself. But, something stronger than myself pulled me towards the beach...and even though I was (proudly) wearing my running shorts + jean jacket + running shoes with NO socks, I was happy. And I grabbed the camera on the way out-<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ih-ws_xAhF5UwpMpVHtUb9we6sChsfaBHt0cZ8SMhvro4BQJI8tYFeSuFAddropm8tWnGSrxdcOoH6Fz9qO-12WGx-ogeNbEhCAyzHmbdI9uAjzKEWRNiDufqetN4Q-9UHysDci7isQ/s1600/1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ih-ws_xAhF5UwpMpVHtUb9we6sChsfaBHt0cZ8SMhvro4BQJI8tYFeSuFAddropm8tWnGSrxdcOoH6Fz9qO-12WGx-ogeNbEhCAyzHmbdI9uAjzKEWRNiDufqetN4Q-9UHysDci7isQ/s320/1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507337909119418754" /></a>Carlsbad Lagoon Trail, taken while running (<span style="font-style:italic;">yes - I was actually running) towards the beach...I just barely hit the Coastal Highway in time for the sunset).</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiluJxQyKC9V2YkZBafWbg3-6oFeT30qUJTbfvmyDwWwwZyZqmt30tT90QmL0ILoXD5GXp8_F5M4eXREIt0B_A17xctVs5vy3W9CvAItdQMYnmpJkHW1vatMDVaHhihKf96Ih1T2u2pMIY/s1600/2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiluJxQyKC9V2YkZBafWbg3-6oFeT30qUJTbfvmyDwWwwZyZqmt30tT90QmL0ILoXD5GXp8_F5M4eXREIt0B_A17xctVs5vy3W9CvAItdQMYnmpJkHW1vatMDVaHhihKf96Ih1T2u2pMIY/s320/2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507337895281771650" /></a>The Carlsbad Power Plant - looking as though the Moon blew from it's smokestack. Best. Loogie. Ever.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwEhyphenhyphenIbABGB8V7aKHHCntCngsWm5Fz5ByanKV2rtoNDGjWZPi0OOgbX3G4WeB2psBOwn2W-rAKEJlrpqXrIqHOHNYDwJ-Nf96j9mGc5OMtg-XVmvIfe5HS0FY-4x_dpZyGOI0FDEUaCTY/s1600/3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwEhyphenhyphenIbABGB8V7aKHHCntCngsWm5Fz5ByanKV2rtoNDGjWZPi0OOgbX3G4WeB2psBOwn2W-rAKEJlrpqXrIqHOHNYDwJ-Nf96j9mGc5OMtg-XVmvIfe5HS0FY-4x_dpZyGOI0FDEUaCTY/s320/3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507337883493367154" /></a>The Ocean and US 101 are just beyond those palms.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZQBcAql0qbF9E_EBN6iZ-4326Yyx7KnYXdRfjsYIeLtSciLYoqwDfEhEuV3vl9-yBzs3t1JUeL0gEB5Qxw-eFuzUuIWrKh8-3KNadpllE-qUTxDzn4Ye_SqbQzZFOtHaFaw475n9W5I/s1600/4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZQBcAql0qbF9E_EBN6iZ-4326Yyx7KnYXdRfjsYIeLtSciLYoqwDfEhEuV3vl9-yBzs3t1JUeL0gEB5Qxw-eFuzUuIWrKh8-3KNadpllE-qUTxDzn4Ye_SqbQzZFOtHaFaw475n9W5I/s320/4.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507337875108931042" /></a>Tamarack Beach and parking lot ~ full of people standing still to watch the sun set.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSUtE3Cth_vIt0BRX93qlCC6ni-bqym52zV-9JocTupqBt65Gf67GejfCNwe6GnYMYYmhHlG8czxAVuyxD4P9HLcwR3Ye7DrXf1YGweb6lUvQO2EdoC-LH-YPJp5jW1EvAre-78GNrDI/s1600/5.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSUtE3Cth_vIt0BRX93qlCC6ni-bqym52zV-9JocTupqBt65Gf67GejfCNwe6GnYMYYmhHlG8czxAVuyxD4P9HLcwR3Ye7DrXf1YGweb6lUvQO2EdoC-LH-YPJp5jW1EvAre-78GNrDI/s320/5.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507337866485146914" /></a>I'm always amazed at how....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCuLd3ApBQF-4ZsC1BkMbxKFpXyTJGzbnVxQxfwL9acFpqlTz5Ej6PBgEQZsLyQnAPV9zk8vn1P5ESsJTnVAO08cCvyoeslcC6Kxwn77iP4VhStJ2PUjl7Gc_oQCO0hXS8Pb7clHSOnA/s1600/6.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCuLd3ApBQF-4ZsC1BkMbxKFpXyTJGzbnVxQxfwL9acFpqlTz5Ej6PBgEQZsLyQnAPV9zk8vn1P5ESsJTnVAO08cCvyoeslcC6Kxwn77iP4VhStJ2PUjl7Gc_oQCO0hXS8Pb7clHSOnA/s320/6.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507340307626812050" /></a>...the same event....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrJDV3bqLm_bG_5vHMfmifY3r76pwRekUfwgKjJG1DVOZdaNLLAhpvE7USQ2w5kbJQbvaMezDBt6RIlr8MWH67fcnO_9wfYME0H8pPiPVUUVSXE9xrhyaP3oIExzdg2igocMH6vzRrxs/s1600/7.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrJDV3bqLm_bG_5vHMfmifY3r76pwRekUfwgKjJG1DVOZdaNLLAhpvE7USQ2w5kbJQbvaMezDBt6RIlr8MWH67fcnO_9wfYME0H8pPiPVUUVSXE9xrhyaP3oIExzdg2igocMH6vzRrxs/s320/7.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507340029056960914" /></a>...can be interpreted in so many different ways...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8UvQMpxI5eV4m_Fw0sqqD64rhINTlNZgqz1YCSN-fQMHOukoH9F1N_JguRmvpnwPHwrIAHjhN6zhHQ9jOzH_HsMeVkLf3z5CLUMQcOQgGFp2OqW7IKVLvdbMFTv-EzrOQW6QX30E1PI/s1600/me.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8UvQMpxI5eV4m_Fw0sqqD64rhINTlNZgqz1YCSN-fQMHOukoH9F1N_JguRmvpnwPHwrIAHjhN6zhHQ9jOzH_HsMeVkLf3z5CLUMQcOQgGFp2OqW7IKVLvdbMFTv-EzrOQW6QX30E1PI/s320/me.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507344912318646514" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">Well hello there!</span> And yes, I realize that I'm talking to myself, but who really cares. (For the record - that wasn't a question).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghNyGLpddPftMk0gDAN6cNss_MCk8YMVFuMjop6CHNkOogFliXYjbtkZ42kUkdwVOZg-QNbJMpD1wr1i8xEYKgg5Xa3z7c8Ljw05ixMeDsD5e34tqgg03cT4WMOU9ZtCn5PFVoLfSktCY/s1600/8.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghNyGLpddPftMk0gDAN6cNss_MCk8YMVFuMjop6CHNkOogFliXYjbtkZ42kUkdwVOZg-QNbJMpD1wr1i8xEYKgg5Xa3z7c8Ljw05ixMeDsD5e34tqgg03cT4WMOU9ZtCn5PFVoLfSktCY/s320/8.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507340020652981250" /></a>Going...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivr51o191KoRoyvt8seGvLzWqJ8MEe78ge-Pe3kP6M2bI2e9ACOPpYPLQNdISHqgyoJhded37RAb26YzpkW86i5aXynhhqD3o93DX5xeO73m7hObwXlAXTInKS-5fMiPUuwLdHQD1c_dE/s1600/9.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivr51o191KoRoyvt8seGvLzWqJ8MEe78ge-Pe3kP6M2bI2e9ACOPpYPLQNdISHqgyoJhded37RAb26YzpkW86i5aXynhhqD3o93DX5xeO73m7hObwXlAXTInKS-5fMiPUuwLdHQD1c_dE/s320/9.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507340012596589106" /></a>...going...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONY3BcKN90xJfQRpCLdFYSqHw9zsMo1mBE4P9_srvW_CIq0aVxLFp2SrYGqCezFvfrq5Qm_KO0OOepjfaNaf_dQy2u8Nhux8r8sSkhg6xt3g0VOvFdxl4mRpCW0Ox1W5SfzKmDFBmfY8/s1600/10.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONY3BcKN90xJfQRpCLdFYSqHw9zsMo1mBE4P9_srvW_CIq0aVxLFp2SrYGqCezFvfrq5Qm_KO0OOepjfaNaf_dQy2u8Nhux8r8sSkhg6xt3g0VOvFdxl4mRpCW0Ox1W5SfzKmDFBmfY8/s320/10.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507340002188334658" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">See you tomorrow!</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLV6QI8dxibig2vjrOlpA97devdedcncKsU_nOgDuumjnUJjxw2JL7NEMimeSQc7Cz3gxqMjTPhQQuwJbA3nX1a6smu271cgNaoKP61LOnTWUUuqDsHmb4X6rDy5WRr5xrXKWP2OF-mXs/s1600/11.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLV6QI8dxibig2vjrOlpA97devdedcncKsU_nOgDuumjnUJjxw2JL7NEMimeSQc7Cz3gxqMjTPhQQuwJbA3nX1a6smu271cgNaoKP61LOnTWUUuqDsHmb4X6rDy5WRr5xrXKWP2OF-mXs/s320/11.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507339993734869874" /></a>Nightlife along the Coastal Highway.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XO8D7HpZLFipNngK2UhV1_ZhF2xq-C2IHNgvMSenwGgQHDOPyRVBBndGR3NFCCbgvpo62cM8SM_VedH4dLaEbXe7Qit7d91enWB3-iaUA5S1Geo9vcLW8sUYcTKrOoISz9ofDQ1WrH4/s1600/12.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XO8D7HpZLFipNngK2UhV1_ZhF2xq-C2IHNgvMSenwGgQHDOPyRVBBndGR3NFCCbgvpo62cM8SM_VedH4dLaEbXe7Qit7d91enWB3-iaUA5S1Geo9vcLW8sUYcTKrOoISz9ofDQ1WrH4/s320/12.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507338999031543938" /></a>In a rush to be going nowhere; happy to take my time and enjoy the view.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrVekzTnpJ7mwh3txqdU2aYjNsJ4bnuJ5UDYznNm2r9nZpmzFe9oxWkrndJs_I3vmJRMzeSyjlgYj5EdpM-M6i5DGQhjKeWZJIHcvYrGH84nSRMxLzeChrNoGuAkKfR1aBU2sXwWrdYI/s1600/13.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrVekzTnpJ7mwh3txqdU2aYjNsJ4bnuJ5UDYznNm2r9nZpmzFe9oxWkrndJs_I3vmJRMzeSyjlgYj5EdpM-M6i5DGQhjKeWZJIHcvYrGH84nSRMxLzeChrNoGuAkKfR1aBU2sXwWrdYI/s320/13.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507338984172244914" /></a>There's a sun that just set, behind this tree - I swear there is.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30mrjhpozBroS3kKhWdWSf0ujmKow9fWxzijedcuejTKqjIvPX69Hyt7mlYq1YtEYO02vfSk_hY1bHLmEWA7xq_97RCPgYhPh14C1ixv1Wr5TNdccXcArpyQC-5P-16cNghJx_AsVvxs/s1600/14.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30mrjhpozBroS3kKhWdWSf0ujmKow9fWxzijedcuejTKqjIvPX69Hyt7mlYq1YtEYO02vfSk_hY1bHLmEWA7xq_97RCPgYhPh14C1ixv1Wr5TNdccXcArpyQC-5P-16cNghJx_AsVvxs/s320/14.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507338973320518994" /></a>Carlsbad Moonrise.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLG4mn2SCl7SnW3WgeDioZB1874QdQVG6slbvpJEDUPYLkAIr7JYc_Eq15QMOnro0pb2-aUubsQxPyQ90km4m3x-5RgklAElNOoAv_Py9NCNMa9uetF_jrrbr9BOYOlAfxItihukG_gs/s1600/15.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLG4mn2SCl7SnW3WgeDioZB1874QdQVG6slbvpJEDUPYLkAIr7JYc_Eq15QMOnro0pb2-aUubsQxPyQ90km4m3x-5RgklAElNOoAv_Py9NCNMa9uetF_jrrbr9BOYOlAfxItihukG_gs/s320/15.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507338960806263890" /></a>Crossing the tracks!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyN8r9GfXgQJBw-VM8_kifx7vLP4Jx4xlWzZKeD82LQvuNrpUaVFV-Vd5R4gpQGF1MsKoxANZgbHLbDyP-TQWAL9EYVQIS9ZnlYD4le-u-2T515U6kdh2R20PxFJv2jYuh8l7aMYv8QBU/s1600/16.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyN8r9GfXgQJBw-VM8_kifx7vLP4Jx4xlWzZKeD82LQvuNrpUaVFV-Vd5R4gpQGF1MsKoxANZgbHLbDyP-TQWAL9EYVQIS9ZnlYD4le-u-2T515U6kdh2R20PxFJv2jYuh8l7aMYv8QBU/s320/16.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507338955088793778" /></a>Neat-o! I discovered a "night" setting. Awesome.<br /><br />Today life was happy. Life was rediscovering a part of myself that's been dormant for (seemingly) so long. Life was good. And I know that tomorrow will be okay.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-31134777100967557892010-08-16T23:54:00.001-07:002010-08-17T00:17:33.849-07:00Putting together the pieces~Slowly and surely, time is passing and we are all coping the best we can, given the circumstances. Yes, there is still shock, sadness, and intense grief. However...the sun continues to rise every morning....the ocean waves continue to kiss the sand...and life slowly lumbers forward. I've come to accept the fact that things will always be a little different...that's just how this is. <br /><br />And that's okay~<br /><br />I can deal with that. I don't like it... but with this incident, I think all of us - we have all lost a little bit of ourselves, a little bit of the belief that 'Everything Will Be Okay'...it wasn't just a helicopter that crashed. Our lives came crashing down around us, and we are left managing and dealing the best that we can, given the circumstances. One day it will make sense - for you and for me.<br /><br />But every time I get sad, I remind myself that the sun will continue to rise and set...that the ocean will continue to sing her song...and that there is so much beauty in the world - just waiting to be discovered.<br /><br />In the interim, I've tried to focus on the lighter side of things... sometimes the distraction works, and other times - well, at least I tried. But between the Shitty Kitty wearing her Cone of Shame one day... and the flat front car tire that happily greeted me Sunday morning - I can't help but stand back and shake my head.<br /><br />When life hands you lemons - you make lemonade. And then add a quart of vodka. And then things are slightly better. But only slightly.<br /><br />But before you worry - no, sadly I can't drown my sorrows in liquor like any sane person. I've got my lovely DVT/PE to consider. The Coumadin + Healthy Dose of Sarcasm seems to be doing the trick, as best as it can.<br /><br />On the flip side, I've been grateful for the outpouring of support. The families of the fallen Marines have been deeply touched... my squadron friends are all being UBER supportive of each other...but on a more personal level, so many of my triathlete friends have reached out to me.<br /><br />I can't tell you how much this has meant to me and Nathaniel. <br /><br />Last year was tough - from the standpoint that I just wasn't ever <span style="font-style:italic;">here</span>. Early nights and earlier mornings were not conducive to happiness on all fronts. But he was so supportive - through the ups and downs of training (which we ALL deal with). And even though he didn't always like my 8-hour Saturday workouts, he's been deeply touched by the friendships and connections this sport has to offer. And the outpouring of support that my friends and readers have continued to show.<br /><br />And for that - thank you.<br /><br />I've always tried to be as honest and upfront as I could be through this blog. Right now, I wish this wasn't happening... this entire year has been one of the most difficult of my life. But...I'm hanging in there. And as difficult as it's been for me, I'm grateful for all that I DO have... because I know that there are so many others who would trade in a heartbeat.<br /><br />If I've said it before, I'll say it again... hug your family, tell your friends that you love them, and don't sweat the small stuff. And at the end of the day, as hard as life is (with those Total Shit Times) - the sun will continue to rise, and the ocean will continue to sing her sweet song....<br /><br />And everything else is just icing on the proverbial sheet cake.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-1310381566446987382010-08-09T18:30:00.000-07:002010-08-09T19:34:06.363-07:00Airing it out~These past few weeks have been busier than I thought, and - quite frankly - really tough. And it's totally true, that when one finds oneself in a time of crisis, the propensity to surround oneself with others going through the same "Total Shit Time" is great. I just haven't had the heart to write, as my own heart has been broken.<br /><br />...Or take pictures.<br /><br />...Or think about my non-existent race season.<br /><br />And while my own personal grief has been hard, I know it is nothing compared to what the families of Our Fallen Marines are going through.<br /><br />The sad truth: we are a nation at war. I found this quote by Clausewitz while rifling through one of Nathaniel's military history books. It reads:<br /><blockquote>"War is the continuation of politics by other means."</blockquote><br />I think even Nathaniel was surprised to find his Clausewitz book in bed long after I had fallen asleep.<br /><br />For the troops deployed and on the ground in a war zone, war looks very different from what I've seen and experienced on the home front. Yet the two are one and the same. Because in the end - we are all human.<br /><br />At times like this, I want to believe in the best of people, that human nature is inherently good, and that everything will be okay. But I've learned - especially after attending two military funerals in three days - that it isn't always the case. <br /><br />I've questioned my faith - because if there was a God, then how come horrible things happen? - and mourned our squadron's loss of innocence...of believing that everything will be okay. Because how can it - after this? After everything else that has happened? All while grieving for friends whose husbands were killed, whose young children will grow up never knowing their fathers.<br /><br />I'm not a fan of politics, and at this point - am insulted when people assume that I support ___________________ because we are a military family. Yes, my vote typically cancels out the vote of my husband - however, as a professional Marine, he keeps his political beliefs separate from his military duty. And as his spouse, I support him because I love him and am so proud of him, not a political ideology.<br /><br />So while I pick up the pieces of my life, I do so with a heavy heart. I wish that those who make decisions about war, could somehow actually be able to personally experience the grief and sadness it causes. It's easy to make a political statement when you have never met and will never know the people (and their families) who serve in our armed services. They are more than statistics, more than just numbers.<br /><br />And yes, I am totally realistic: I KNOW that there are very bad people in this world. I understand that - and I know these people do very bad things. That is undisputed.<br /><br />And therein lies the conflict. What do we do and how do we go about doing it?<br /><br />I am grateful for those brave and courageous souls who choose to serve our country. Because our freedom, our way of life, is based on their selfless sacrifice. <br /><br />But it's heartbreaking to see and experience the aftermath of lives lost. My jury is still out on that one - and I don't think it's something I'll ever fully understand. As someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, these past two weeks were some of the most difficult of my life. I want to believe that everything will be okay, that life and all things GOOD will prevail - but I know firsthand that that's not always the case. I am mourning our loss.<br /><br />But most importantly, I just want my sun to return. The May Grey became June Gloom, which morphed into the July Sigh. I know that my sun is somewhere above the fog of August - and I'm trying to make myself believe that it's rays will reach me once again.<br /><br />I don't know what else to do. I just don't know anymore.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-11963549145984759002010-07-29T11:10:00.000-07:002010-07-29T12:13:06.027-07:00Smelling the Roses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpf6xUdDftUezGTTbPlV187d4GN1G_rsUL-nxxdtP7z6e4UaZyb9zllA3yBQ2xn_ERzVxhKI1tn2EQ-SUbz9tExdjdfz4-A7OOcYrwFleDRBAttgxkmqbtEYUYCigSRb-qE9qJJ9wCdcA/s1600/DSC_0082+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpf6xUdDftUezGTTbPlV187d4GN1G_rsUL-nxxdtP7z6e4UaZyb9zllA3yBQ2xn_ERzVxhKI1tn2EQ-SUbz9tExdjdfz4-A7OOcYrwFleDRBAttgxkmqbtEYUYCigSRb-qE9qJJ9wCdcA/s200/DSC_0082+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499407972809896162" /></a>You know those days - where you feel like you're in a complete time warp? And Monday becomes Thursday which turns back to Tuesday and the weekend feels like a Wednesday and it's just NOT good all around? Story of my life lately, story of my life.<br /><br />But when you loose people that are dear to you, and are first-hand witness to the aftermath, it doesn't make anything feel any easier or better. On Tuesday, Governor Schwarzenegger issued the following statement:<br /><blockquote>"The deaths of Lieutenant Colonel Mario Carazo and Major James Weis are tragic losses for this country. They devoted themselves to serving our nation with honor and integrity, and their selfless sacrifices will never be forgotten. On behalf of all Californians, Maria and I extend our heartfelt condolences to the families and loved ones of these brave Marines."<br /><br />Carazo, 41, and Weis, 37, died July 22 while supporting combat operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan. They were assigned to Marine Aircraft Group 39, 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, I Marine Expeditionary Force, U.S. Marine Corps, Camp Pendleton, CA.<br /><br />In honor of Lt. Col. Carazo and Maj. Weis, Capitol flags will be flown at half-staff.</blockquote><br />To say that triathlon, or my lack of racing has been at the back of my mind, would be a HUGE understatement. True, this is the life that Nathaniel and I lead - and while we understand that there are risks associated with his profession, it doesn't make it any easier. I've seen things that I never - not in a million years - thought I would see first hand. And as hard as this is for me and all of my military friends out here, I know that what we are enduring is nothing compared to the families of Wiesel and Sugar Bear.<br /><br />After five days of grief and pain, I told Nathaniel I was going for a run. He raised his eyebrows but didn't stop me. Clearly, he didn't think a wayward clot would finish me off. So... I made my escape and ran.<br /><br />Along the way I:<br /><br />-Greeted the lady watering her flowers and commented about how beautiful they looked.<br /><br />-Waited for old people to walk first and THEN run around them. I wasn't in a hurry.<br /><br />-Stopped to look at the ocean, the surfers, riding the waves, and marvled at the fact that - in spite of the Totally Shitty Time right now - the waves will continue to tickle the sand, the sun will continue to rise and set.<br /><br />-Looked longingly at the people drinking and laughing at one of the pubs in Carlsbad. Not only because they were drinking (what I wouldn't do for a Salty Margarita right about now) - but because they were laughing and having fun....carefree and oblivious to the Totally Shitty Time that I, and other people affiliated with this situation are dealing with.<br /><br />-Deliberately left my watch at home and just ran by feel. It felt great.<br /><br />-I smiled at people and made eye contact, in stead of inwardly focusing on the specific point of my run.<br /><br />-I stopped and smelled the roses....one house had a BEAUTIFUL rose bush. So I stopped. And smelled it - perfect.<br /><br />-I did NOT run through the yellow light and instead waited a few minutes for the next green.<br /><br />-And finally, even though it was my first run in four weeks since the Pulminary Embolism, I was happy to be running, and grateful for all the friends and family support. I don't talk a lot about Nathaniel's military "stuff" (for lack of a better word) on my blog, mainly because this is about triathlon, training, and my own creative outlet.<br /><br />But if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: Hug your loved ones, tell your friends that you love them - because you just never know what life will bring. And always always always, stop and smell the roses.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6OkfNTnqAJkJBHslFxGTEPyb38QiaimGbcDDXbyp5hWbWA6HqLCeJK2AwWjv53FfbkW_JZtysZuJo4ViuGk7WcPDV4qvmNvrL01yQqv1ybG_dvK5GCHubiQdzWU-AHi5MxERKkAfj78/s1600/DSC_0890.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6OkfNTnqAJkJBHslFxGTEPyb38QiaimGbcDDXbyp5hWbWA6HqLCeJK2AwWjv53FfbkW_JZtysZuJo4ViuGk7WcPDV4qvmNvrL01yQqv1ybG_dvK5GCHubiQdzWU-AHi5MxERKkAfj78/s320/DSC_0890.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499406821322011314" /></a>Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-79410329329323684712010-07-26T23:09:00.000-07:002010-07-26T23:45:52.417-07:00Awesome Animal EncountersI was out at dinner tonight with a few good friends - Mer, Jen, Stacy, and Jess, who are ALL very aware of my Fear-Of-Being-Eaten-While-Training "issue". Ahem. It is so prevalent at the forefront of my mind, that while Jess was telling stories of running 4 miles during her recent trip to Africa, I couldn't get past the point that <span style="font-style:italic;">she was running 4 miles through Lion Infested Areas.</span><br /><br />I think she laughed when I inquired about shot guns and bear spray.<br /><br />Um.. for the record - I was being TOTALLY SERIOUS.<br /><br />It would be fitting, then, that upon arriving home from dinner, I would find an email from Grandpa L. with the images below. I particularly enjoyed the Hippo shot - where it looks like <span style="font-style:italic;">the hippo is actually moving fast.</span> Wow - that's some pretty good knee flexion, that is. <br /><br />Is it me, or is this a Devil Bird?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDB7urgjkRYYPp14GXZvX5hSvEy0kmtsVhs8W_o9_79QjBOD8B52JgNIzeANqAPSbOlcvC6QeNt1piXAOuCbSsOAL1_e8PIVeTCiKt9VHZkghRSu9sF2S5mPXTvqZbhF2c3k30niUO3Og/s1600/birds.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDB7urgjkRYYPp14GXZvX5hSvEy0kmtsVhs8W_o9_79QjBOD8B52JgNIzeANqAPSbOlcvC6QeNt1piXAOuCbSsOAL1_e8PIVeTCiKt9VHZkghRSu9sF2S5mPXTvqZbhF2c3k30niUO3Og/s320/birds.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498468617865926674" /></a>Thank God for Rock Walls and REI.<br /><br />Um....If it's snout is the size of your ENTIRE arm.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisw6mVheOupfXWlrbfjC4qQsK_PN9ULyVqlDIRt0GwPLL8Xzo-eXPrslg5_wwrWNcUZrdpH4Qzu9pjcH3m-RiBd6AlOe1sS9G6wPGyIprCNQiIDg1p5LoehDqv-VnL6KtQVc5OeNkq7GA/s1600/Alligator+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisw6mVheOupfXWlrbfjC4qQsK_PN9ULyVqlDIRt0GwPLL8Xzo-eXPrslg5_wwrWNcUZrdpH4Qzu9pjcH3m-RiBd6AlOe1sS9G6wPGyIprCNQiIDg1p5LoehDqv-VnL6KtQVc5OeNkq7GA/s320/Alligator+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498468256551072082" /></a>...you probably should NOT be pointing at it.<br /><br />Chinese Fire Drill-<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyCfeTY9Mwv0wN3RHCApwVAUM8U1v7NCoXcFazEeZ2g_dhLww9KIxbPA1JrSiPJtRx6KocpU20U-X1w37jrMqUUyZVLxnl_43iNtiRM0kL5EC8kORcWVuLiCuVSGZLIQZ59DkQRXwa6I/s1600/bear.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyCfeTY9Mwv0wN3RHCApwVAUM8U1v7NCoXcFazEeZ2g_dhLww9KIxbPA1JrSiPJtRx6KocpU20U-X1w37jrMqUUyZVLxnl_43iNtiRM0kL5EC8kORcWVuLiCuVSGZLIQZ59DkQRXwa6I/s320/bear.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498468255290459778" /></a>-The Polar Bear Version.<br /><br />Wow. The LAST animal I thought would ever stalk someone from the bush - is the hippo.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiksMOY9Ty6rgnVNVFXz4zgo6yA_-p5P8vmuUbFZPTZhHOorPoTQcER8lw9Re3h82GNcYBrzzLlBmrL-DgwmiYutLsb-TycX42DPANl4LWnnJnLCjLK1pAE7gBDmZ5YuHb9mSYhumgz6I/s1600/Hippo+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiksMOY9Ty6rgnVNVFXz4zgo6yA_-p5P8vmuUbFZPTZhHOorPoTQcER8lw9Re3h82GNcYBrzzLlBmrL-DgwmiYutLsb-TycX42DPANl4LWnnJnLCjLK1pAE7gBDmZ5YuHb9mSYhumgz6I/s320/Hippo+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498468246618052978" /></a>Clearly, I was wrong. (But seriously - you have to admire BOTH beings form. I mean...for a hippo, he/she looks pretty good).<br /><br />Honk!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqS_PPloqbW0UB6lB_CW6ukeOH8Xzbq4VhNqlvdA0RtXsCI3UFmq1WezoEi9jDIf7EqKd9VmvJFe-hBfH42-0jjtgdUgAwoQJJ1EhrsyWTOvZPRlV-Q6yGHA6PD531uL4G5aP75BbYSXY/s1600/Goose.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqS_PPloqbW0UB6lB_CW6ukeOH8Xzbq4VhNqlvdA0RtXsCI3UFmq1WezoEi9jDIf7EqKd9VmvJFe-hBfH42-0jjtgdUgAwoQJJ1EhrsyWTOvZPRlV-Q6yGHA6PD531uL4G5aP75BbYSXY/s320/Goose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498464876491503378" /></a>Sadly, this has happened to me.<br /><br />Dude - that bear is SO not going into that cage.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4M74CIlJOSFhPjSZae-_sXAoeyJ9-ndOWhr5JM-JQOIF1EGRVMUuVktkV8f4pV8jGYSJ6Cf0B_6S_5ePpomPYUjOeyM2j90JwhAKAWEqJ4FIlSx1Yu_lbTLaeS8sGXSoojrzLYa0WV5w/s1600/Bear+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4M74CIlJOSFhPjSZae-_sXAoeyJ9-ndOWhr5JM-JQOIF1EGRVMUuVktkV8f4pV8jGYSJ6Cf0B_6S_5ePpomPYUjOeyM2j90JwhAKAWEqJ4FIlSx1Yu_lbTLaeS8sGXSoojrzLYa0WV5w/s320/Bear+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498464872710456514" /></a>Hopefully it can't climb car.<br /><br />Not everyone likes to be filmed<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4r6fT6OqukHMYivn1FuIUAFMQuUFl3oStznj1-K2yfhs5uzL2CAQ6UOgNyXaEBuuXOLDlC9ZvnhKZ0cRcw5YC9BoLoLIRYtwksL2fufk4Ku3CVYZguN5pOdAhdsS2Mv8dWckfjoz4Yco/s1600/Bird+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4r6fT6OqukHMYivn1FuIUAFMQuUFl3oStznj1-K2yfhs5uzL2CAQ6UOgNyXaEBuuXOLDlC9ZvnhKZ0cRcw5YC9BoLoLIRYtwksL2fufk4Ku3CVYZguN5pOdAhdsS2Mv8dWckfjoz4Yco/s320/Bird+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498464864182755234" /></a>I guess his feathers were ruffled. <br /><br />Okay - I'm REALLY sorry for that. It's the coumadin.<br /><br />Um....perhaps there's something fishy with the car.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0k4Ta0Bbl9bk3MJUVWb7S0xpuLaONMs3F35zRJqI-VxIjH3WMh5Zgr14ed8tcK5Cq2nEIEjb0JAmq1KXxXSH07YRCdaenGwWlM2NzM5hei1R6mPPkZtxPEikYx41feDYr7wgTOpdOEiU/s1600/Lions.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0k4Ta0Bbl9bk3MJUVWb7S0xpuLaONMs3F35zRJqI-VxIjH3WMh5Zgr14ed8tcK5Cq2nEIEjb0JAmq1KXxXSH07YRCdaenGwWlM2NzM5hei1R6mPPkZtxPEikYx41feDYr7wgTOpdOEiU/s320/Lions.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498464854389437970" /></a>LOTS of House Monsters!<br /><br />Sometimes you just have to stand up and applaud the Kangaroo. There are times in my life where I have NOT wanted my picture taken.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif36nDapkRnJTSDo-Np6Xk3v4jX6MtUUTvDO2b2welcjjChzQo3X8DB4hvAicE635PXzWUaqVptzS4gn5E1Yu8UdfLffaLXeboHT1kmLF3FwLIFML9A3aPa9p3p031KE77_TGt7cMBfPk/s1600/Kangaroo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif36nDapkRnJTSDo-Np6Xk3v4jX6MtUUTvDO2b2welcjjChzQo3X8DB4hvAicE635PXzWUaqVptzS4gn5E1Yu8UdfLffaLXeboHT1kmLF3FwLIFML9A3aPa9p3p031KE77_TGt7cMBfPk/s320/Kangaroo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498464850773900274" /></a>What I wouldn't give for a pouch and extra long legs.<br /><br />And before you get your knickers in a twist - there were NO Mountain Lion, Shark, OR Snake pictures in here. So...um.... let's keep it that way. Unless, of course, we're talking about the Cement Sharks. Yeah - we already know about <span style="font-style:italic;">those guys</span>.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-3868261334393125392010-07-24T23:24:00.001-07:002010-07-24T23:36:09.744-07:00The Cardiff SharkApparently, we're not even safe on land. I knew it! I just <span style="font-style:italic;">knew</span> it!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiid3pnm0lj_LZ-YJbfY5bm38k5Wnvy-uwylwo0vLNMLwfFx_tMhhI63ngOQrIiMM_3mRnSlbj-S6BgzywfiAGrFcaZcd7LL_dZ306SL7V5RfJfgOW1M8MSkoTzJVr4lO6h-AReLhDcTUw/s1600/cardiff+shark.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiid3pnm0lj_LZ-YJbfY5bm38k5Wnvy-uwylwo0vLNMLwfFx_tMhhI63ngOQrIiMM_3mRnSlbj-S6BgzywfiAGrFcaZcd7LL_dZ306SL7V5RfJfgOW1M8MSkoTzJVr4lO6h-AReLhDcTUw/s320/cardiff+shark.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497726139329431362" /></a>In what's being dubbed as the best spoof on the 3-year surfing statue in Cardiff-by-the-Sea yet, practical jokers surrounded the controversial monument with a paper mache shark. And while the surfer IS life sized, I certainly hope the shark is not. Otherwise we have much MUCH bigger problems.<br /><br />And then, there's that attacking through the cement thing. Yeah, that too.<br /><br />During a week when I needed a laugh, this was it. Awesome.<br /><br />I won't - however - be watching "Shark Week" on Discovery Channel. Some things should be left to the imagination, I think. Then again, knowing me - my imagination can often be worse than the real thing.<br /><br />Because, as demonstrated above, they can attack through concrete. As my friend Dave wrote on my FaceBook wall a while back, "If you're attacked by a shark while running along the beach, you've just got to tip your hat and say 'Well played, sir!'"<br /><br />Well played, indeed.<br /><br />BRAVO to the creators of Bruce going after the Cardiff Kook!Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-40087830627736948482010-07-23T01:48:00.000-07:002010-07-23T02:03:18.320-07:00Tribute<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6INLHQ1WvW6PsgxEP3zr7BjnnWB4GcXCJz2_V9XEQWKuyYrthvp2Wl8pLk9hWR0kjq2BQIwHsCALbmE40bZItNd0vus2TdgKy4QzZEJ803LBtQOaMHLrmmEvBQrtlz-QC8dO0u-L5450/s1600/huey+and+cobra.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6INLHQ1WvW6PsgxEP3zr7BjnnWB4GcXCJz2_V9XEQWKuyYrthvp2Wl8pLk9hWR0kjq2BQIwHsCALbmE40bZItNd0vus2TdgKy4QzZEJ803LBtQOaMHLrmmEvBQrtlz-QC8dO0u-L5450/s200/huey+and+cobra.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497022840330505250" /></a>Nothing in life can prepare us for loss. We wake up one day, doing totally normal things and suddenly - out of the blue - WHAM! Change. Big Change. Something is different - and it's usually not for the better. Part of life is being able to deal with the Total Shit Times. And that's different for us all -<br /><br />We all have those moments where life seems to pull the rug out from under us. And, like with any previous experience, we pick ourselves up, assess the damage, shake ourselves out, and slowly return to "normal" life - whatever that is.<br /><br />Dealing with the DVT and PE has been tough, and I've had to make some major adjustments to my lifestyle and expectations. But that's okay - yes, I'm upset. But I'm also doing what I need to do in order to survive. And deep down, I know that I'm extremely lucky - that other people won't ever get that second chance.<br /><br />So - be sure to hug your spouse, your kids, your loved ones, friends, and yes, even your own House Monsters - extra tight today. Because you just never know what life will bring.<br /><br />Sempre Fi! We will remember them, always -<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqmGVy3qwZNeFts5ZFxUu6AElAg6tufm4xKlMTlZcNiRhSD9_boii5QcgrL7O3WWwDZ_F_K9lMZJ3YMaxr5e2UPkqGr_E7135_pFpe2k8CRIYqcIaG8BhYah9xg9qU86rQERlgqOe8do/s1600/flag-raising-on-iwo-jima.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqmGVy3qwZNeFts5ZFxUu6AElAg6tufm4xKlMTlZcNiRhSD9_boii5QcgrL7O3WWwDZ_F_K9lMZJ3YMaxr5e2UPkqGr_E7135_pFpe2k8CRIYqcIaG8BhYah9xg9qU86rQERlgqOe8do/s320/flag-raising-on-iwo-jima.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497023245622718194" /></a>Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-20570846476230787252010-07-20T11:29:00.000-07:002010-07-20T13:34:29.716-07:00The lagest and greatest - (and giving the Book of Face a run for it's money)It has been exactly nine days since my last blog, and as someone who loves writing, photography, sports, and all things creative - this, for all practical purposes, is blasphemy. However, I'm still alive, still kicking, and in spite of a brief return to the hospital, the clot hasn't finished me off.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />EVERYONE GO AND KNOCK ON WOOD.</span><br /><br />Now that my folks are gone, Nathaniel is out flying, and the House Monsters are doing their thing, I feel like I can finally begin to put the pieces together and catch up with life.<br /><br />And yes, I could probably write a really really really long blog post about my experiences this past week (and change!) - but I'll save you (and ME!) the trouble and instead give a "status update" play-by-play a la Book of Face. Yes, there will be some pictures. Enjoy!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update:</span> NO, I don't know why I've been so sick this year - but I can promise that I DID NOT steal a lava rock. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>Along with my race season, I have lost my ability to filter all thoughts and inappropriate comments. But...I also say nice things that I wouldn't normally say - like, "OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOUR DRESS!". The lady at Target was a little surprised...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>Even though I'm smiling, my non-alcoholic beer still tastes like non-alcoholic beer. And for the life of me, I just can't call it Near Beer.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMERgpAsS-nDtrnZHivvuzB4MteAeatLFm3CkF4HnykAJSVo5uOnulvjJ2GQhtYXWuUmJhBGAmYbB3yfLwrw3HYh23_VEV91yNLZxgxwrC_juoh96enj1QzpOkDl31fibA9-cPe2zt1Pc/s1600/DSCN6381+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMERgpAsS-nDtrnZHivvuzB4MteAeatLFm3CkF4HnykAJSVo5uOnulvjJ2GQhtYXWuUmJhBGAmYbB3yfLwrw3HYh23_VEV91yNLZxgxwrC_juoh96enj1QzpOkDl31fibA9-cPe2zt1Pc/s320/DSCN6381+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496063730407051330" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update:</span> In an effort to capture a face shot of herself and my Dad, my Mom took a GREAT picture. Mouths NOT included...(neither are smiles - but this picture was just too good to pass)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8avtap6OriPv31byptCy-SJoDsqSspfQ5Acz01WmfFVGFkvgQjESbWOZgQu6mZVsnJXnoy_lPp6SnUmp41Z2IwfPbHM0gB6HhUsjOxKD0AXjLwiIj56GzY4lsHL1SUbmaMZEcaMd9emk/s1600/043.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8avtap6OriPv31byptCy-SJoDsqSspfQ5Acz01WmfFVGFkvgQjESbWOZgQu6mZVsnJXnoy_lPp6SnUmp41Z2IwfPbHM0gB6HhUsjOxKD0AXjLwiIj56GzY4lsHL1SUbmaMZEcaMd9emk/s320/043.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496064186277313330" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>This seal has more flexibility than me. But I still won't go swimming in the ocean. Just because of, well, <span style="font-style:italic;">you know.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjlzO8jvannGcSJKwz-MkM8F1EUieXe40KmRuE1feqozofEdhkQ8-1vAfhE9NeXbkJln1B4oSCqkG32a88ljgwOvVeYZjzC_t_BOK2Ue327ywXhsgGTsyjkfxipZSZI2DDkXzqzN1KX0M/s1600/DSCN6542+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjlzO8jvannGcSJKwz-MkM8F1EUieXe40KmRuE1feqozofEdhkQ8-1vAfhE9NeXbkJln1B4oSCqkG32a88ljgwOvVeYZjzC_t_BOK2Ue327ywXhsgGTsyjkfxipZSZI2DDkXzqzN1KX0M/s320/DSCN6542+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496065272005845458" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>I got dropped by my Dad on a Power Walk. Seriously - this was the LAST image I had before he was way ahead of me up the beach.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2bKNaH793SXEtUuw7mmkiHq5QPR7IW-Nkycq6BwqIwu8Gau_4KwNL-4pkSkOSrGGjXwGMWAF2qWvMvwIV6HQmCdlD3NrSukyaAs1jOrrwVvDprwZXQ-88I7fstJ5YNWewt7qh3Ek2_Q/s1600/DSCN6410+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2bKNaH793SXEtUuw7mmkiHq5QPR7IW-Nkycq6BwqIwu8Gau_4KwNL-4pkSkOSrGGjXwGMWAF2qWvMvwIV6HQmCdlD3NrSukyaAs1jOrrwVvDprwZXQ-88I7fstJ5YNWewt7qh3Ek2_Q/s320/DSCN6410+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496066144545649138" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>However, with Nathaniel my Dad took a more leisurely pace...perhaps it was the daily Svacina of Gentlemen Jack that prompted this promenade? As I cannot drink alcohol until my INR numbers stabilize, I do not know...But I AM so very grateful that my hubby and father get along. Um, that would be very difficult if they didn't...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEu0Egz8UfIcbWM2T4ZzHRzs0vgs9_-_uJ_rbNifhuY9e1GUeq15SVRk-qmQ6p1w15mT49ydixJiZkljvqGqxHXaAEqNnBPwVIqnNYJ49r6K1ru-_St9kFu_RuzCUtBAs-ypNdCBBAMOQ/s1600/DSCN0594+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEu0Egz8UfIcbWM2T4ZzHRzs0vgs9_-_uJ_rbNifhuY9e1GUeq15SVRk-qmQ6p1w15mT49ydixJiZkljvqGqxHXaAEqNnBPwVIqnNYJ49r6K1ru-_St9kFu_RuzCUtBAs-ypNdCBBAMOQ/s320/DSCN0594+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496068013388914018" /></a>.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>The mission at San Juan Cappistrano is BEAUTIFUL, and visiting it was awesome. You know what? Sometimes it feels like I need all the help I can get -<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRCmpcMx4uzSQ9eSieU2NJrgGSeKljyjurx9lCo9M7lf96MaZS0T_IiqeCsvYbeNSvvZYpHPFEP2B866r5nd0WZ7_YYM-q_A3qBuerG-bnbOzlkBT9I_qbKMjXt-Zz5vpK13aKbiL5SU/s1600/DSC_0884+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRCmpcMx4uzSQ9eSieU2NJrgGSeKljyjurx9lCo9M7lf96MaZS0T_IiqeCsvYbeNSvvZYpHPFEP2B866r5nd0WZ7_YYM-q_A3qBuerG-bnbOzlkBT9I_qbKMjXt-Zz5vpK13aKbiL5SU/s320/DSC_0884+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496070640139666450" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>My parents will do funny things when prompted!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4a9Qtw-CH9cp9a2r9nJJ5hxG_671IZRoThXQIP35sFIJp6lQycCnDPNciUga_FrVh-3G-8i-wEWnLjrY0D5sQPUO1bwZ9nhyexuGSIgSE38LkHXPYTcJ1KD9c4gynrbCn5BKjGmtPNDI/s1600/DSCN6635+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4a9Qtw-CH9cp9a2r9nJJ5hxG_671IZRoThXQIP35sFIJp6lQycCnDPNciUga_FrVh-3G-8i-wEWnLjrY0D5sQPUO1bwZ9nhyexuGSIgSE38LkHXPYTcJ1KD9c4gynrbCn5BKjGmtPNDI/s320/DSCN6635+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496070967136495746" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>No, we, the Gunfighter Gals are NOT sponsored by Red Cup Frozen Yogurt. We just love the stuff! *But would accept sponsorship at any time*<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrYe1qfReOIcoZCCj7okCuRixrP6RPinyaBTzR_3lkchoVZirlaGAJcrznk1trvhhOxaRdDzsRjF7P8PuLa8OkKGRelN0lVFLdQplGhTnmG67kOHHUxLzqfZR5coyN2TzZqIaUWG1qOGA/s1600/DSCN6204+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrYe1qfReOIcoZCCj7okCuRixrP6RPinyaBTzR_3lkchoVZirlaGAJcrznk1trvhhOxaRdDzsRjF7P8PuLa8OkKGRelN0lVFLdQplGhTnmG67kOHHUxLzqfZR5coyN2TzZqIaUWG1qOGA/s320/DSCN6204+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496071689724461538" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update:</span> Sure, I was scared shitless the first time I got back in the pool post DVT/PE. BUT. But. but. Swimming with friends makes all the difference in the world.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KKlBReERcQSVtFK1P4tKuc4lO6NfR74ILQ-FPJ3TDP9XcJKQJzmbPS3h8ar95Dnzwl2ZurTG3efTeRC1B_GkxQv05eCNi6r4jgk_4jBe8AVwuDgXPK8YAhKe6JwAc4xW-9RQ6SseJ8Q/s1600/DSCN6397+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KKlBReERcQSVtFK1P4tKuc4lO6NfR74ILQ-FPJ3TDP9XcJKQJzmbPS3h8ar95Dnzwl2ZurTG3efTeRC1B_GkxQv05eCNi6r4jgk_4jBe8AVwuDgXPK8YAhKe6JwAc4xW-9RQ6SseJ8Q/s320/DSCN6397+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496072674590209074" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>DO NOT tell the lifeguard just before entering the water that you just survived a major DVT/PE. Because he will spend the next ____________ amount of time watching you like a hawk. Seriously - I could NOT pee in the pool, just because I was sure he would spot something funny. (And YES, I DO have doctor's permission for physical activity AS LONG AS I FEEL OKAY).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update:</span> I will hug my doctor when I see her for the first time after getting out of the hospital. And then I will hug her again when she says that I can ride my bike on the trainer.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>Not that my parents want grand kids or anything...But they do.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnrj7u-IwxkZ9yDS8XpAFn6c0RMsvwKeQtAUqaFvhHzf1OZZJMX5AEscni-X1ZLKA_UK42ndnIW3h16rznkHZS07P5T-72yTdv31_ezNonB8zF_dj2yykL6ofU7RmNr317l1WrDaY89c/s1600/DSCN6473+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnrj7u-IwxkZ9yDS8XpAFn6c0RMsvwKeQtAUqaFvhHzf1OZZJMX5AEscni-X1ZLKA_UK42ndnIW3h16rznkHZS07P5T-72yTdv31_ezNonB8zF_dj2yykL6ofU7RmNr317l1WrDaY89c/s320/DSCN6473+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496074027113490514" /></a> And no, we didn't steal a kid off the street. Instead, Meredith and Soren met us for lunch - WONDERFUL! Soren was the entertainment. Not that Nathaniel and I feel any pressure. And seriously, kids are the LAST thing on our minds (especially now that I'm on blood thinners and dealing with fat foot). But still.... I'm getting that tic tock vibe from The Parents. (especially when they look lovingly at anything that moves and is under 20 pounds. minus the house monsters, of course).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>The IKEA Fairy made a visit to our house, after Shitty Kitty pee peed all over cloths that were left on the floor. I flipped out, Nathaniel remained oddly calm, Mom helped with the clean-up, and Dad willingly agreed to help dispose of old furniture. The grin is BEFORE we spent $700 on new clothes storage system.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiNr7niA0lvwM07OUTlJ0LaYCGt_sUWT8dio2S6HHzPGYQ0r0isKZNlcFqUjtfeJNDXG7snihaNfu_n7p2OFjrz3VjLK-TWqhfVbhsAE9S__LEN5IjrfQ7sodXs3MiYVv8-Dbxwi6CJU/s1600/DSCN6691.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiNr7niA0lvwM07OUTlJ0LaYCGt_sUWT8dio2S6HHzPGYQ0r0isKZNlcFqUjtfeJNDXG7snihaNfu_n7p2OFjrz3VjLK-TWqhfVbhsAE9S__LEN5IjrfQ7sodXs3MiYVv8-Dbxwi6CJU/s320/DSCN6691.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496078838078748546" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>Indeed, it is possible to cram nearly $700 worth of IKEA furniture into a 2003 Toyota Camry. Possible, but not pretty. But still - possible.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglVEZDOpOmI7iKvOYnK06eAVEO9FbHYVMKtlulua0us4L5Cd47mIAYfBLJ9LeMpGmqI6bjmL122QMTqZbzciGfbdE7MSwuVzZZj4gDu_vK0hYggQahHlwy1w6tntbQOfSBgjcGl3333w/s1600/DSCN6700.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglVEZDOpOmI7iKvOYnK06eAVEO9FbHYVMKtlulua0us4L5Cd47mIAYfBLJ9LeMpGmqI6bjmL122QMTqZbzciGfbdE7MSwuVzZZj4gDu_vK0hYggQahHlwy1w6tntbQOfSBgjcGl3333w/s320/DSCN6700.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496079213901249810" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>I'm too impatient to organize everything to build furniture. My way...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVMC-wb3q60awt2j1nWB37P3QZLQMe6uqGW70CKbtvDaPqoVCqKXWMO7iTUaAzP3pOVh4puSabwDXRaohdHrGu87s18GPoCwCPQhy9FpuPvAuJewRHE6EATSq4Wk1RHPLg-WO6zNrDkI/s1600/DSCN6746+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVMC-wb3q60awt2j1nWB37P3QZLQMe6uqGW70CKbtvDaPqoVCqKXWMO7iTUaAzP3pOVh4puSabwDXRaohdHrGu87s18GPoCwCPQhy9FpuPvAuJewRHE6EATSq4Wk1RHPLg-WO6zNrDkI/s320/DSCN6746+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496080453438309602" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>My helicopter-flying husband on the other hand, was extremely methodical.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92F02NkMj9HKGsfflwaXK3m19By5FNArH-4-FIGno29QgknMJqo_zmlkyUK9N9FtcaWIJyyXIyEOXw2_22KncvhfZeW56vFLdZJNvEicYvvWjbjSb6Tr9l5j5k2T0_0tXhan9I0W13dU/s1600/DSCN6744+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92F02NkMj9HKGsfflwaXK3m19By5FNArH-4-FIGno29QgknMJqo_zmlkyUK9N9FtcaWIJyyXIyEOXw2_22KncvhfZeW56vFLdZJNvEicYvvWjbjSb6Tr9l5j5k2T0_0tXhan9I0W13dU/s320/DSCN6744+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496080929680978498" /></a> And then he built an 8 drawer dresser in under 2.5 hours. Humph. I told him the wardrobe was mine...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>My helicopter flying husband <span style="font-style:italic;">also</span> burnt out the clutch on our 1995 Carolla - how he manages to fly something <span style="font-style:italic;">with pedals</span>, yet kill our stick shift, is beyond me. However, after driving a friend's jeep - I AM SOLD on a wrangler. Definitely not practical, not kid-friendly, not exactly bike transporting friendly, and not gas mileage friendly...but a hell of a lot of fun. We are contemplating....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRH5IynOk6KTS6nVT4_KIwWnwgVCBEFDvua3P6qFDfrCJTR6JtKwacguNDa49VBhC-cgpnmMgvbvyt4p_Z3LG50tU_ur3caetwbnRCzcnm-8jckTBkFu7Nn64lrR3pHmZQj8PydV_4SiM/s1600/DSCN6588+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRH5IynOk6KTS6nVT4_KIwWnwgVCBEFDvua3P6qFDfrCJTR6JtKwacguNDa49VBhC-cgpnmMgvbvyt4p_Z3LG50tU_ur3caetwbnRCzcnm-8jckTBkFu7Nn64lrR3pHmZQj8PydV_4SiM/s320/DSCN6588+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496082046423462898" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update:</span> My super secret superpower identity as a Gunfighter Gal is revealed. I guess Non-Alcoholic beer DOES affect me. And no - I'm not about to flash the camera.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Sg-1BU-E91qAAKUfHezXPEKhUs6DfvxHQgGTpLDnUCVGuwSIMTHBASRXItEvT7-PtWso007dwRmHr3D3OunbeTsccEW30f4oSPerf1v6cU8H9LM-rUykTm_eXKjNKnR-FlWdv2NJyMc/s1600/DSCN6393+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Sg-1BU-E91qAAKUfHezXPEKhUs6DfvxHQgGTpLDnUCVGuwSIMTHBASRXItEvT7-PtWso007dwRmHr3D3OunbeTsccEW30f4oSPerf1v6cU8H9LM-rUykTm_eXKjNKnR-FlWdv2NJyMc/s320/DSCN6393+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496083304556203906" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>Yes, I live in Southern California, where people feel the need to strap their giant poodles into the back of their mini cooper convertibles. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmNZSiWldn2Sebtv_4QlX6wtwzhmOOOk0d49m2uuDAHodg0O8Cze0sDPjbW-KElENvmotCsl6Eq1aUjFwbZwO_QFNdKQpj3bwwWHj5YRQxh_1bhfVsOWvOU9pHyTf6JG_UQFw9qtIZbs/s1600/DSCN6398+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmNZSiWldn2Sebtv_4QlX6wtwzhmOOOk0d49m2uuDAHodg0O8Cze0sDPjbW-KElENvmotCsl6Eq1aUjFwbZwO_QFNdKQpj3bwwWHj5YRQxh_1bhfVsOWvOU9pHyTf6JG_UQFw9qtIZbs/s320/DSCN6398+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496085074811690194" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>The May Grey/June Gloom has returned....yet coffee stops with loved ones, is the BEST THING EVER!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiH005AzXFevIo2kby1u0F0y8g-JkaZ_QGL2rF6Nk0051pwib4Ny3pE9662na746kSfm2Ye0klG8TUpenldBZC_8NYGLI-Ju6ImuywxBS3v9TVrA-lX0mXZeQwYasxkLnDc7kQOq0Ndo/s1600/Me+and+Nathaniel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiH005AzXFevIo2kby1u0F0y8g-JkaZ_QGL2rF6Nk0051pwib4Ny3pE9662na746kSfm2Ye0klG8TUpenldBZC_8NYGLI-Ju6ImuywxBS3v9TVrA-lX0mXZeQwYasxkLnDc7kQOq0Ndo/s320/Me+and+Nathaniel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496085577867679810" /></a> <br />So...that's it for now. My folks left early this morning, and Nathaniel is flying somewhere around Joshua Tree and 29-er Palms today. My goals include a light spin on the trainer, violin practice, and of course - finishing the wardrobe. Yes, my Other Half has offered to help - but the competitor in me (which just won't go away, in spite of the clots), wants to see if I can get this done.<br /><br />(Also - I'm still working on emails and thank you notes....a constant work in progress that I'm so grateful to do....If I haven't yet thanked YOU - please know that you, my friends, have made all the difference while going through this life changing event.)<br /><br />Sure - We may have the oddest functioning wardrobe EVER. But...it will still be a wardrobe that I built. Nothing is perfect, right? So in the interim, perhaps I'll skip the ride, skip the violin work, and head straight to construction while passing GO and collecting $200. Yeah, I like the sound of that.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Status Update: </span>Wardrobe construction - here we go!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKYM_7tIiiTKrnEj14khDDFqPh0d6yu1kcECRVZ_LJRpUKNm1h23WYNbMqtFzt1X6MZS3khSr8-AqH5qRGhqH46FQbYEeHrGd2nv8wBls7eSxUC5OHPiHchimUmTDh8ndm6BMRO5BWMAY/s1600/DSCN6747.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKYM_7tIiiTKrnEj14khDDFqPh0d6yu1kcECRVZ_LJRpUKNm1h23WYNbMqtFzt1X6MZS3khSr8-AqH5qRGhqH46FQbYEeHrGd2nv8wBls7eSxUC5OHPiHchimUmTDh8ndm6BMRO5BWMAY/s320/DSCN6747.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496086832816154098" /></a>And I even have a helper....Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-58624208468767900382010-07-11T14:03:00.000-07:002010-07-11T14:19:08.587-07:00Telephone Pole Hill, JulyAnother month has passed, and in effort to prove to myself that Southern California does indeed have seasons (although NOT the sort of seasons that this Minnesota girl is familiar with), each month I'm taking a picture of what I've dubbed "Telephone Poll Hill." Located aboard Camp Pendleton, this hill has become a staple during our Mike TERF area hikes (although we are <span style="font-style:italic;">extra careful</span> this time of year due to the rattlesnakes).<br /><br />Again - another run on sentence. I'm blaming the blood thinners, so it's all good. <br /><br />And before you go getting your knickers in a twist, no I DID NOT hike today. Instead, Nathaniel and I drove out to the hill, took a few pictures, and drove home. It felt a little anticlimactic, really...like I was cheating...as I'm so used to taking the shot after a long hike. <br /><br />But...My doctor has given me the "all clear" to start LIGHT hiking next week. Though I'm afraid that it will be a while before we do anything long or tenuous. And that's okay - just part of the process. Yes, I'm upset - but there is NOTHING I can do about it, except take things day by day. In the meantime though, enjoy the pictures. I'm excited to see what August and September bring...<br /><br />I'm really looking forward to taking those shots!<br /><br />March 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQTNEYK7gOoRFlPGaMzGUzPlyynuZ3uw_5zrLnFakOOUg2mf4jMZQvU2AkDhQI5sOxxCx4bME0aqawze3q4764SivUE5vjDUmLIKFhjRtIAjAGSXqp_WT172zOoUCvhXxz4SYfZkeA5SE/s1600/March+Telephone+Hill.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQTNEYK7gOoRFlPGaMzGUzPlyynuZ3uw_5zrLnFakOOUg2mf4jMZQvU2AkDhQI5sOxxCx4bME0aqawze3q4764SivUE5vjDUmLIKFhjRtIAjAGSXqp_WT172zOoUCvhXxz4SYfZkeA5SE/s320/March+Telephone+Hill.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492759095296600322" /></a><br />May 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjobtSIDgnJPTln0x-IKMp60cpoV_OsCSiLXDEBiK5ttKRJy1rLxkh1l4aA5DmSnd7vR3cDAI5_5eAVJXc3abKrUG7X1jqFMs1lMlBT2sfzyEadrCCmyyDejDe4BKLrjwL-J9mwyB4Afk/s1600/May+Telephone+Hill.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjobtSIDgnJPTln0x-IKMp60cpoV_OsCSiLXDEBiK5ttKRJy1rLxkh1l4aA5DmSnd7vR3cDAI5_5eAVJXc3abKrUG7X1jqFMs1lMlBT2sfzyEadrCCmyyDejDe4BKLrjwL-J9mwyB4Afk/s320/May+Telephone+Hill.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492759088191263538" /></a><br />June 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPfwmawr9-cmvymLTE7ApaUM6H_RKcqNtHpZSjkH2ph_7Trj9MPck5awi_ZNn3KxgB6wLSONZ-21JBVVEAiMOUvwDtyMT8w22VyznVQ5dLP8EOfoL04ZuSDs8o359Qeu3a7jDDh1_-Jk0/s1600/June+Telephone+Hill.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPfwmawr9-cmvymLTE7ApaUM6H_RKcqNtHpZSjkH2ph_7Trj9MPck5awi_ZNn3KxgB6wLSONZ-21JBVVEAiMOUvwDtyMT8w22VyznVQ5dLP8EOfoL04ZuSDs8o359Qeu3a7jDDh1_-Jk0/s320/June+Telephone+Hill.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492759077992070850" /></a><br />July 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DspsXcdN6xrf0zbBls7Ei5H3RQg92ZNl2CRKJC30rvEgobKK7WgQJOtX9nenILPZVbWDjIe8MGywFQUQnXfg-WFYG-xGXGQ8DRogu63k7Dzj5MTYEiTYl6Zzb5pXznveG3GOJkI96Ks/s1600/July+Telephone+Pole+Hill.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DspsXcdN6xrf0zbBls7Ei5H3RQg92ZNl2CRKJC30rvEgobKK7WgQJOtX9nenILPZVbWDjIe8MGywFQUQnXfg-WFYG-xGXGQ8DRogu63k7Dzj5MTYEiTYl6Zzb5pXznveG3GOJkI96Ks/s320/July+Telephone+Pole+Hill.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492759067492089074" /></a>It's been an interesting July thus far. The Marine Layer has stuck around uncharacteristically long, and while our friends on the East Coast have sweltered in the heat, the temperatures have remained mild due to the constant cloud cover.<br /><br />I'm keeping my fingers crossed for some sunshine! Stay tuned for August...Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-24653221830201759712010-07-08T21:07:00.001-07:002010-07-08T22:08:53.431-07:00Hospital ShotsYes, the pun is intended. It's horrible, and I'll readily admit that. I swear that ever since I've been on blood thinners, I've lost my ability to "filter" what I say or how my thoughts come out of my mouth. I think my Mom was horrified on the way to the airport to pick up my Dad. My mental middle finger, which is usually aimed towards crappy drivers, instead became a free flowing commentary as we sped down the 5. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Whoops.</span><br /><br />But I'm still here....my INR is stable...and I've managed to dig up the camera for a few hospital "shots". Ha ha ha - I know, I know - awful. But really - I can't help it.<br /><br />Don't blame me - blame the Coumadin. It's what I'm doing.<br /><br />Welcome to Scripps Encinitas Emergency Room!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7-KJHPqJWm0TDMIoaAcGobSbumzF2tMgGGXSiovRg48iR7qh_4QtudIyomlMMklwUJL1tcFtkA_IiJOu5xoRALbiBm_WSFLVk1MFaNfIWy1HKHGYsiKGhjawfWnDCg03Ea2A3-xQmS0/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7-KJHPqJWm0TDMIoaAcGobSbumzF2tMgGGXSiovRg48iR7qh_4QtudIyomlMMklwUJL1tcFtkA_IiJOu5xoRALbiBm_WSFLVk1MFaNfIWy1HKHGYsiKGhjawfWnDCg03Ea2A3-xQmS0/s320/1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491757621961217010" /></a>Waiting for my CT scan with NO IDEA how bad off I really was. My stupid grin gives proof to that fact. Then again, Meredith kept me laughing the entire time<br /><br />This IV brought to you by Power Bar and Diet Coke.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXNqbrh6Ehzf46M32LMWYwzKaE8RG0yN5Mn7mj38iKGdPF9UmTeW7yU0-eYwmSM3FEzJShA00IlKLUwC30sSDVO5mSMmQc5mIVizoVF_t-C4itHlCCL1gY43QTg3lxkCeMuDhwfgPd40/s1600/2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXNqbrh6Ehzf46M32LMWYwzKaE8RG0yN5Mn7mj38iKGdPF9UmTeW7yU0-eYwmSM3FEzJShA00IlKLUwC30sSDVO5mSMmQc5mIVizoVF_t-C4itHlCCL1gY43QTg3lxkCeMuDhwfgPd40/s320/2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491757610109697330" /></a>Awesome! THANK YOU MEREDITH for supplying me with Diet Coke. I could not have gotten through the 8 days without that. Well... I guess I could have - it just would have been <span style="font-style:italic;">really really ugly.</span><br /><br />My Lovenox injection shots...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOngtq3cMuGQmHGS8TaNPI_zWCel9QsUh6aHVdhzqt2L-yckNWgt2qLE52ku4rc5X8akSbnaNPnv54z0pwgjusYxZ3FB_qGOQHvfSDfeod_p3vccdx5kjeBpsv0e39IA3gkLOCVKCUkJU/s1600/3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOngtq3cMuGQmHGS8TaNPI_zWCel9QsUh6aHVdhzqt2L-yckNWgt2qLE52ku4rc5X8akSbnaNPnv54z0pwgjusYxZ3FB_qGOQHvfSDfeod_p3vccdx5kjeBpsv0e39IA3gkLOCVKCUkJU/s320/3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491757605020470162" /></a>And I have a collection of dime-sized bruises along my "love handles" as testament to my self-injection blunders.<br /><br />CUPCAKES from Molly! WOO HOO!!!!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEQXC50XIDHlQYIcX2kSPvRbpcE0IIrQDyZvUa_6yN-f1SjgRlODOvESTMz4eFLoWt_5ShhvpJd_IbbWU19iGtCXVovCGsvrMfEgQVKQ5OejNmxtRgpn-Ym_eZ07pNN7ECf9WLTmi7gk/s1600/4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEQXC50XIDHlQYIcX2kSPvRbpcE0IIrQDyZvUa_6yN-f1SjgRlODOvESTMz4eFLoWt_5ShhvpJd_IbbWU19iGtCXVovCGsvrMfEgQVKQ5OejNmxtRgpn-Ym_eZ07pNN7ECf9WLTmi7gk/s320/4.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491757595897165618" /></a>Along with the BEST nurses EVER!!!!<br /><br />Wow! These flowers smell a lot better...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdXKrIJnB6khirJ8ZeTgGi6RviqPWjTBB9bLvyiaufZ6fuPFl7UkTPIu7rwoPexYk2t9RKfdZ1mwoHaAuKZvPyhhPE9dnhvptaq_2te2lZ0C-UnNcEwfj1hCbUSxsRAfNPoAzfA0MRsI/s1600/5.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdXKrIJnB6khirJ8ZeTgGi6RviqPWjTBB9bLvyiaufZ6fuPFl7UkTPIu7rwoPexYk2t9RKfdZ1mwoHaAuKZvPyhhPE9dnhvptaq_2te2lZ0C-UnNcEwfj1hCbUSxsRAfNPoAzfA0MRsI/s320/5.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491756987177027186" /></a>...than the lady sharing my room. (Luckily I moved to a private "suite" after two days. BLISS!)<br /><br />No, I swear to you that I'm not about to blow up.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirdO1PSeoQKTN2Vo50e8JB81Uydew503ULMuWcZXA2pnC6jrezSXoZlZc1KF-Ob3_u3S-9aQYkvH0vGggxWPnMo6dbj1_tGNk_ogPryOaXUvswqpyruHqKVu9HEwx7uimUiE-MtNWcLgA/s1600/6.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirdO1PSeoQKTN2Vo50e8JB81Uydew503ULMuWcZXA2pnC6jrezSXoZlZc1KF-Ob3_u3S-9aQYkvH0vGggxWPnMo6dbj1_tGNk_ogPryOaXUvswqpyruHqKVu9HEwx7uimUiE-MtNWcLgA/s320/6.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491756977905319730" /></a>Wires from my EKG, which I wore CONSTANTLY. The weird part about being home, is knowing that no one is monitoring my heart. Slightly disconcerting given the fact that there's a VERY big clot de-clotting itself in my leg. But still...I miss that EKG and the security it brought.<br /><br />Meet my new friend Dallas!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXzt_lGgH8b4SaPI2xeONvWu9Kzdja4qIadpnGltDKCCTmk4ZPfYzSUKYpXthFu0Q239I_Qqa9nfb1IUX8DspQpKXBAxNOhyV7oKPdBlLTUWcxnuOZ7rD03MC1fp-f_mYeEB0y21PrAI/s1600/7.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXzt_lGgH8b4SaPI2xeONvWu9Kzdja4qIadpnGltDKCCTmk4ZPfYzSUKYpXthFu0Q239I_Qqa9nfb1IUX8DspQpKXBAxNOhyV7oKPdBlLTUWcxnuOZ7rD03MC1fp-f_mYeEB0y21PrAI/s320/7.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491756969477637106" /></a>Canine Companions were AWESOME, and I made three new doggie friends. They really brightened up my day. Many thanks to Dallas, Tomas, and Shirley!<br /><br />A healthy lunch of pita, Greek salad, milk, and...<span style="font-style:italic;">almond butter</span>...?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxNPw8yuPDMZ29f2brA6p1uVF2thK92pxRP7oJc0808npoIaUc-TWIHzgjTLMXdUe182mZoBuOwwJqS_3G2uJzYvMD-_uYt22Zw8SXmVQpe64IDoeyWXfKc792Q7wOXUBmzKQfyN8K7I/s1600/9.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxNPw8yuPDMZ29f2brA6p1uVF2thK92pxRP7oJc0808npoIaUc-TWIHzgjTLMXdUe182mZoBuOwwJqS_3G2uJzYvMD-_uYt22Zw8SXmVQpe64IDoeyWXfKc792Q7wOXUBmzKQfyN8K7I/s320/9.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491756957180058706" /></a>Clearly, I talk about peanut butter and almond butter too much, if people are bringing me jars of the stuff. And yes - I said jar<span style="font-weight:bold;">s</span>. The PB went to the nurses, but I kept the AB for myself and visitors...<br /><br />After one day, I added a fourth goal...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHjj5TUw1Q7nio1gbeqI77z0Pru9fFRX86V10AemrVbtfCQSfoBpURtc2y8XS5k4IUTKAzlpVxUi_66eEQBD6XXRZWQDKeGn3kppHpPrHAEfGUBPydkXu8GDvPBvATmuFJxlHHMn_PGg/s1600/8.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHjj5TUw1Q7nio1gbeqI77z0Pru9fFRX86V10AemrVbtfCQSfoBpURtc2y8XS5k4IUTKAzlpVxUi_66eEQBD6XXRZWQDKeGn3kppHpPrHAEfGUBPydkXu8GDvPBvATmuFJxlHHMn_PGg/s320/8.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491756948023704386" /></a>Mission Accomplished!<br /><br />The volunteers who delivered flowers and packages and chocolate were <span style="font-style:italic;">extra</span> pleasant!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4N9t6lCoJL974satNvXMeA0TZojVIkAVoItG5-oLQv_ZKGJ1JEIVb6KRRcNH-MktOy1wo20vP5qlTMcwzVioDa2v09_SP62cZj0NSKSZp09RInnkASsK4h1-2PhYUGuZg9gdM1Ikmmk/s1600/10.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4N9t6lCoJL974satNvXMeA0TZojVIkAVoItG5-oLQv_ZKGJ1JEIVb6KRRcNH-MktOy1wo20vP5qlTMcwzVioDa2v09_SP62cZj0NSKSZp09RInnkASsK4h1-2PhYUGuZg9gdM1Ikmmk/s320/10.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491755432281099202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qOxt1KrbjW-47VnYQn_CFgAI9WTMSSUEJ3zR9oCM3XDAlD_-aoCnhx1GWMucglMAHL6Qcvfa2ILRejntPnev9YFOdp1aVjXNblxYsDhCKkU-W0Ms1FjL3V7FLQxKbjvXY3qz1f7HP8M/s1600/11.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qOxt1KrbjW-47VnYQn_CFgAI9WTMSSUEJ3zR9oCM3XDAlD_-aoCnhx1GWMucglMAHL6Qcvfa2ILRejntPnev9YFOdp1aVjXNblxYsDhCKkU-W0Ms1FjL3V7FLQxKbjvXY3qz1f7HP8M/s320/11.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491755425707749314" /></a><br />Happy Anniversary!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLoIjlEgRe79aRGfCzrjwx8tEEM3VVHXAq6Fo47mOe32mfSczvTD4CMVVPs1n9CJBkznyTFpARVnYrXCSVO_GKw4N9sTmPD1vtcdAfJJPHJQFpilF2ZMkqlriuyHW5cwOLGC8H_ZWrHZc/s1600/12.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLoIjlEgRe79aRGfCzrjwx8tEEM3VVHXAq6Fo47mOe32mfSczvTD4CMVVPs1n9CJBkznyTFpARVnYrXCSVO_GKw4N9sTmPD1vtcdAfJJPHJQFpilF2ZMkqlriuyHW5cwOLGC8H_ZWrHZc/s320/12.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491755410161575042" /></a>Chocolate covered strawberries from Nathaniel. Okay - so NOT the hike + Pizza Port (pizza + GREAT beer) we had planned. However - the added bonus was that we BOTH got to celebrate <span style="font-style:italic;">on this earth.</span><br /><br />Speaking of love...four of the images from my heart ultrasound.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHQVqFLmVHweOUoL5rsEhkfDJF9MxN2GM3TZaW5RRkw1UcWRYQYFJc-hdQhkLVAaJsD6Oy4ll7HDEpq_nGxEqzcW73tvXNijAyatYpBnMNcKGDESCt6blazjg0xafNkt4w2Uj1AqQCIc/s1600/DSC_0865.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHQVqFLmVHweOUoL5rsEhkfDJF9MxN2GM3TZaW5RRkw1UcWRYQYFJc-hdQhkLVAaJsD6Oy4ll7HDEpq_nGxEqzcW73tvXNijAyatYpBnMNcKGDESCt6blazjg0xafNkt4w2Uj1AqQCIc/s320/DSC_0865.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491762497346235282" /></a>Sorry - I can't tell you what any of the pictures mean... But I do know, that it belongs to Nathaniel.<br /><br />Still swollen. Sigh.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7oIsQnhoBIYcssS5xNk_gr5uMqrt90O4PaPfaq2RL97s2rePYNoyfCdSkSknG2gkH1WSNL6Q6EeJ0IGtShGAri4baOTaUFYgBKYYhLHNFlfx7R3XhQ-2Om4_lQzhw1G5E-XZn8cMrwE/s1600/13.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7oIsQnhoBIYcssS5xNk_gr5uMqrt90O4PaPfaq2RL97s2rePYNoyfCdSkSknG2gkH1WSNL6Q6EeJ0IGtShGAri4baOTaUFYgBKYYhLHNFlfx7R3XhQ-2Om4_lQzhw1G5E-XZn8cMrwE/s320/13.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491755400694283442" /></a>And slightly discolored (due to the <span style="font-style:italic;">-cringe- </span>broken cappilaries and tissues within the skin). I've always hated feet - and here is another reason why.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(Psst: It's the RIGHT foot)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">AND REMEMBER - IF YOU EVER EXPERIENCE SWELLING OF ANY KIND IN ANY EXTREMITIES, GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM IMMEDIATELY!</span><br /><br />Wall of hearts -<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRLjAR4AxIv8JVPrToqwcO33d380L2FWFfUU1Ctl3D6DwHbErzZLKUzVNxNmmWhACqeltFTToOVB-g2tvzruZ4D2ooQeihb0tZUsElnuif98bB5O2xo-R_ol-A5tAmmJ4NkpmoJla-b0/s1600/14.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRLjAR4AxIv8JVPrToqwcO33d380L2FWFfUU1Ctl3D6DwHbErzZLKUzVNxNmmWhACqeltFTToOVB-g2tvzruZ4D2ooQeihb0tZUsElnuif98bB5O2xo-R_ol-A5tAmmJ4NkpmoJla-b0/s320/14.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491755389780876818" /></a>-discovered during my 4th of July foray through the empty-feeling hospital.<br /><br />This sign gave me hope! Do I get to run stairs? <span style="font-style:italic;">Yes?? Please! YES!! PICK ME!!!</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV85drOQJRl0Nm9vTMbKIwEXZKi5I3pP5aQ6_T9Seqo6G3JgicI-Fry8do0kUp0c9CcCJSYxp2wdiKujKY05j9V5xdpCV7AsOEu4DmuZlK6tz0zQmnuZinaeJ8rrm9KuXig4a1lShPyyY/s1600/15.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV85drOQJRl0Nm9vTMbKIwEXZKi5I3pP5aQ6_T9Seqo6G3JgicI-Fry8do0kUp0c9CcCJSYxp2wdiKujKY05j9V5xdpCV7AsOEu4DmuZlK6tz0zQmnuZinaeJ8rrm9KuXig4a1lShPyyY/s320/15.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491754563899181522" /></a>NO. For much of the time I was restricted to the bed or very light walking - my doctors didn't want me to dislodge the DVTs in my right leg. Again.<br /><br />Mirrors were everywhere.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi562HR6HV-8qfnn-_uH8LNGYtqzhSz5JF4dK8DsJse3b-AVtpewe7z3GfjS3DMj64eKZrPIj69U69XkkOq09KT5djeeiCWr9TeMgVgdk7IH2X9SMjcR4I3Cti1hZDLGhUOtM0ITA8NulI/s1600/16.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi562HR6HV-8qfnn-_uH8LNGYtqzhSz5JF4dK8DsJse3b-AVtpewe7z3GfjS3DMj64eKZrPIj69U69XkkOq09KT5djeeiCWr9TeMgVgdk7IH2X9SMjcR4I3Cti1hZDLGhUOtM0ITA8NulI/s320/16.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491754555539011682" /></a><br />Rocks in the garden - always helping me to find my way.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRB5274mN09aFZi-_-aN8MvCbeHd8_PwUeCgfuJRp3D3Wi_aS-boUltEtyeyOvG0zPDIKFFDd3rZuDKf_Swkxu5oAZGiVdh-vDQYJYeSoiCAXNpuKsTWuYxm6yFnLA1f3qg2L22FDBsk/s1600/17.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRB5274mN09aFZi-_-aN8MvCbeHd8_PwUeCgfuJRp3D3Wi_aS-boUltEtyeyOvG0zPDIKFFDd3rZuDKf_Swkxu5oAZGiVdh-vDQYJYeSoiCAXNpuKsTWuYxm6yFnLA1f3qg2L22FDBsk/s320/17.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491754544701708322" /></a><br />Happy 4th of July!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82mhZPerQ4TKCw8azNjCNOGjqMriD8dXy70Mxug_MbLhvl-wnEJtbMn7_QjvXZ8WvSu7d_F6pEwCSFUWIryj6St5QHMZrqadxEV4ijH2gOvVA1bOmmdWVlAElToeSTn5zU-eOLO_Zig4/s1600/18.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82mhZPerQ4TKCw8azNjCNOGjqMriD8dXy70Mxug_MbLhvl-wnEJtbMn7_QjvXZ8WvSu7d_F6pEwCSFUWIryj6St5QHMZrqadxEV4ijH2gOvVA1bOmmdWVlAElToeSTn5zU-eOLO_Zig4/s320/18.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491754536035238402" /></a><br />I found this on the camera, and laughed.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3P3QkFz9DAjmr2E8VWYwgmNRyC0egx61oQbs1sjUlRW4vJjaIHobEQvPUIYE3yYJlYJiRtkgdkZyM9QcGTndof3VOHCkVSzbX801BDHVzlPUTb9WW8_mT_CFOAAwYIn2MdGAHkyk4yc/s1600/19.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3P3QkFz9DAjmr2E8VWYwgmNRyC0egx61oQbs1sjUlRW4vJjaIHobEQvPUIYE3yYJlYJiRtkgdkZyM9QcGTndof3VOHCkVSzbX801BDHVzlPUTb9WW8_mT_CFOAAwYIn2MdGAHkyk4yc/s320/19.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491754524724868722" /></a>I have to hand it to Nathaniel - a Marine, helicopter pilot, and lifelong lego lover - this was AWESOME. I think he's planning on building the Yankee version soon.<br /><br />I had warned Meredith...that my friend Jaime makes the BEST BAKED GOODS EVER. <span style="font-style:italic;">Sshhhh:even better than sheet cake!</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikexGxAhVDm6itssH2VLNBky2nHZKHAS4MGhy2YpHJkr7oxgitLM45e9M0TYztSIPQuNjP46IuVokxCVuiuk6U9UDv8xd8rZjAhtAmNB0ay0U2NXXPGsUqaYF039GrCten2JjvXVbqvN0/s1600/20.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikexGxAhVDm6itssH2VLNBky2nHZKHAS4MGhy2YpHJkr7oxgitLM45e9M0TYztSIPQuNjP46IuVokxCVuiuk6U9UDv8xd8rZjAhtAmNB0ay0U2NXXPGsUqaYF039GrCten2JjvXVbqvN0/s320/20.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491753665106322546" /></a>Yes, we were all amazed. And I swear, that I waddled out of that place.<br /><br />Seven days and counting...two IVs, more bruises than I ever though possible...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlVAeUHjKQq7nS5WwJWFD4IrWFj8DVBVL8vRrE6a0l_pPFNwTVGxBs6DViVwsz59QjrdJQqDsjAH2EimIb048kjO6mrSdkulNubvoZdflYWs1biVgCcMnthfeezds4lj_kV82vTV8GW0/s1600/21.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlVAeUHjKQq7nS5WwJWFD4IrWFj8DVBVL8vRrE6a0l_pPFNwTVGxBs6DViVwsz59QjrdJQqDsjAH2EimIb048kjO6mrSdkulNubvoZdflYWs1biVgCcMnthfeezds4lj_kV82vTV8GW0/s320/21.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491753650764832818" /></a>...but GRATEFUL to be alive.<br /><br />THANK YOU EVERYONE for your incredible support. Still working on those emails...and grateful to be here.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-32556603988386579972010-07-06T22:10:00.000-07:002010-07-07T00:42:25.992-07:00Status Update: Home and De-Clotting!First of all - let me start off by saying that I LOVE LOVE LOVE Rosemary Mint Shampoo from Aveda. And let's throw in the Rosemary Mint Conditioner as well, because that stuff is also golden. I washed my hair no less than three times <span style="font-style:italic;">while taking one shower,</span> yesterday at home.<br /><br />Yes, you are reading correctly...AT HOME.<br /><br />My Sunday July 4th release didn't come to pass. My pesky INR # didn't cooperate the way it was supposed to. Luckily, the next day I got to do my 'Happy Dance' when my number shot up to 2.2. I may have hugged my doctor, but I'm not 100% positive. Sure, I may be on a mega dose of Coumadin (for my body weight)....but no matter. I would rather pump myself full of the stuff and NOT suffer <span style="font-style:italic;">another</span> blood clot to the heart and lungs.<br /><br />Suffice to say, there will be NO running with scissors for the next few months.<br /><br />But bottom line: I'm home, I'm getting healthy, and I'm finding creative ways to stay happy.<br /><br />I know that my life is going to change dramatically over the next few months. But pretty soon, the things that I do on a daily basis that I have to THINK about, will slowly become integrated into my regular schedule. <br /><br />Example?<br /><br />Let's just say that I've got a standing order to get my blood drawn. <br /><br />I know for a fact that my veins rejoiced from NOT having to give blood today. I managed to eek out of blood drawing tomorrow, but my ticket comes up on Thursday. And that's okay...because I know that I won't be able to be comfortable NOT knowing what my INR number is.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Remember that thing? That INR thingy?? Summary: the body's ability to clot blood, as recognized on an international scale. I'm supposed to stay between 2.0 and 3.0 - but diet has a HUGE affect on the counts.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Other bits?</span><br /><br />Well - I've begun to wrap my brain around the fact that I'm NOT racing this season. No races. Nada. First thing - it's just not safe. Let's put the shark thing aside - the bruising and contact on the swim, potential for bike crash and bleeding associated with the ride, and then the wear and tear on the run. <br /><br />And let's not even mention the giant calf-to-groin clot I've still got in my right let. It's NOT gone yet... and I'm still trying to figure out how to function and go through my daily (MODIFIED) routines knowing that another major chunk could break off, travel through my body, and kill me. <br /><br />There - I said it.<br /><br />(And 170+ heart rate certainly would NOT help me...higher heart rate = more pressure = more demand for blood = greater likelihood of clot breaking free).<br /><br />I'm terrified of that. <br /><br />But every time I think about that, I try to remind myself that TONS of people have taken blood thinners and survived Deep Vein Thrombosis and Pulmonary Embolisms. And that my doctors would NOT have released me if they didn't think I was safe... so for now, I have to trust. <span style="font-style:italic;">Trust </span>the system, <span style="font-style:italic;">trust </span>my doctors, <span style="font-style:italic;">trust </span>the medicine, <span style="font-style:italic;">trust </span>the history of success.<br /><br />Trust my faith.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Dude - I don't even trust Nathaniel when he drives down the 5. </span>And at least THEN I can yell - <span style="font-style:italic;">oops tell </span>- him to <span style="font-weight:bold;">SLOW DOWN</span>. And he usually listens. (Although, I can totally pull the <span style="font-style:italic;">"I survived a major PE, and I refuse to be killed in a car crash due to your reckless driving"</span> card.)<br /><br />I wish I could yell at my blood clots, <span style="font-style:italic;">"Out! Out damned spot, out I say!"</span> Err - I meant "clot".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">OUT! OUT DAMNED CLOTS, OUT I SAY!</span><br /><br />But I was thinking about this the other day - <span style="font-style:italic;">and can you tell I've been doing a lot of thinking? </span>- and I finally decided that trusting that I am going to be okay with my medication and doctors, is SORT of like trusting Coach Jen and my training right before the start of a BIG race.<br /><br />And so far...I've never NOT been ready for a race...so - that's a good thing. <span style="font-style:italic;">Right? </span><br /><br />Right.<br /><br />Absolutely.<br /><br />Other things have been permeating through my mind as well - and I think any athletically minded person who faces a long layoff from competition, shares these same thoughts. It's the idea that I can stay in shape and NOT race...I don't have to train for something, in order to be healthy...in order to be happy...and I don't need to focus on RACE goals in order to make 2010 a productive year.<br /><br />As a highly competitive person - this is hard for me. Knowing that I can still be "Marit" without racing, and without training <span style="font-style:italic;">for </span>racing.<br /><br />I think that my bouts with sinusitis and pneumonia helped prepare me - but I NEVER though it would be for something like this.<br /><br />But, when I get the clearance to start up with light exercise, it will be more along the lines of walking, easy swimming (NO Masters yet), light hiking, and indoor biking. And...I've reconciled that I'm okay with this. I may not like it, and there will be times when I know I'll feel sad when I see someone running really fast down Pacific Coast Highway - but at the end of the day, racing and triathlon will always be there. And if I give this blood clot an opportunity to break off, I may not.<br /><br />And I know myself - and I know how tough things got in 2008 after my bike crash when I couldn't race, yet I kept expecting myself to return to top form like nothing had happened. Something did happen - something really REALLY big did happen. And it was silly of me to expect that I could get back on the horse without changing my outlook.<br /><br />Instead, I grew increasingly depressed, sad, and trapped in a horribly cycle of grief. I was angry - but refused to admit it. The denial was everywhere and with everything that I did. And I bargained with the best of them.<br /><br />Then again, hindsight is 20-20, and that's one of the many lessons I learned from 2008. I'm not upset or mad about anything that happened that year - because even though bits of it were totally horrible, I emerged on the other a much happier and healthier person. It was very hard, yes - but I learned so much more about ME, and how I work, than I would have had I never gone through it.<br /><br />I may be able to control how I react and look at a situation, true. On the flip side - sometimes life hands you a steaming turd. And it sucks. Big time.<br /><br />With this new and unexpected journey in 2010, I KNOW that there will be days that I'm totally bummed. I'll cry, I'll get mad, I'll be pissed - and I'll also be scared. I'm prepared for that and I know it will happen. And anyone who has gone through a very scary thing will probably feel the same way.<br /><br />Yet, I'll also keep in mind that I'm lucky to be here....so fortunate to tell Nathaniel that I love him, to watch Tabbitha fawn over Kalamata Olives, and Anabelle dance with her favorite purple string. That I'm happy to reach the top of a hill (or mountain - no matter what size), read a great book, enjoy froyo with friends, swap nigiri with Nathaniel, hug my parents, and tell my friends that I love them. And I've said it before, and I'll say it again: everything else is just icing on the proverbial sheet cake.<br /><br />But I also know myself well enough - to be forgiving of my feelings, and to know that what I'm feeling at that exact moment - is exactly the RIGHT thing. And that I'm doing the best I can with what I have...And that this is the FIRST DVT and PE that I've gone through - and all the emotions and feelings that I'm feeling are NORMAL. Because how could I know otherwise?<br /><br />Again - long hospital stay = thinking and planning.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Repeat: I'm doing the best that I can with the tools that I have....And everything that I'm feeling is normal because I've never gone through this before, so how could I know otherwise?</span><br /><br />So that's the latest and greatest. I'm home. I'm getting healthy. And I'm doing my best to stay happy. And my identity isn't wrapped up in racing or even training at a high level. There is simply so much more there.<br /><br />This will be a new journey for 2010. A new foray into an unexplored side of my life. As we've already been tossed in, we might as well keep going.<br /><br />I can't thank everyone enough for all of their love and support. My triathlon friends have been AWESOME. The Gunfighter Gals with hospital visits and a week's worth of delivered dinners, my parents for flying out (and Angela Kidd for helping to make Dad's trip possible), my doctors and nurses, friends, family, Jen - for bing not only the BEST COACH EVER, but also an incredible friend and supporter, Almond butter, Lori my pet sitter (for braving the House Monsters), Darcy for bringing me REGULAR clothes (no flashing people on the hospital ward), Mer - for everything, Karen for the books, and so many more...there are simply too many. And the flowers - I'm in the process of writing thank you cards - so please be patient (I know you are). But please know that your love and support got me through some pretty scary times.<br /><br />What else can I say? To quote Donna: <span style="font-style:italic;">"I'm De-clotting."</span><br /><br />And that, my friends, is the latest and greatest.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com108tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-31630477388863448392010-07-04T21:34:00.001-07:002010-07-04T22:36:48.997-07:00Hospital Observations...(yes, I'm still here).It's interesting. Being in a hospital for an extended amount of time, yet feeling <span style="font-style:italic;">totally normal.</span> <span style="font-style:italic;">And why am I writing about the hospital when I was supposed to be released this morning?</span><br /><br />Because I'm still here.<br /><br />Apparently, I'm the FIRST patient my doctor has ever worked with, whose INR number didn't keep rising the way it was supposed to. I stalled at 1.9 for a second day. <span style="font-style:italic;">Double shit. </span>My parents always told me I was *special*. This wasn't the sort of example I was hoping for.<br /><br />But that's okay - because I'm exactly where I need to be, getting the necessary treatment. The plan is to up the Coumadin and continue with the Lovenox shots. Yes, I HTFU and give myself the shots. Twice daily. To the abdomen. But trust me when I say that there are plenty of love-handles to inject the medicine into. <br /><br />...Speaking of love-handles, I've got a theory about why it's so difficult for my INR number to respond to the Coumadin. And it actually has to do with Vitamin K, a fat soluble vitamin. Ready? <br /><br />Are you sure??<br /><br />It's nothing special, except that I try to eat SUPER HEALTHY greens, get my daily dose of veggies, and supplement my diet with a multivitamin - my Vitamin K stores are extremely high... and a week's worth of hospital food, will not decrease the Vitamin K deposits in my body. Or any deposits for that matter, but that's a different story.<br /><br />But the great news - is once we get this last bit of information figured out, I'll be free and clear to GO HOME. HOME! With NATHANIEL! With HOUSE MONSTERS!! With my MOM - who flew into town...today ON HER BIRTHDAY!!! And my DAD - who is flying in LATER THIS WEEK!<br /><br />And more great news? Can you handle it?<br /><br />I'm not positive for Factor V. - which means that (knock on wood - EVERYONE, because there are no guarantees ever) I won't be a lifer on Coumadin. But like I said - there are no guarantees. Did you get that? No guarantees.<br /><br />Tonight I spent some time wandering the halls of the hospital. There were lots of visitors in the morning, many people wearing their patriotic reds, whites, and blues. I could hear happy chatter and laughter down the corridor, instead of the usual shuffle of nurses or beeping of patient's machines. It was - for the first time since I've been here (all 7 days) - a happy sound. The sound of life; the sound of hope.<br /><br />Later, after the visitors left, I checked in at the nurses station to let them know I would be taking a walk throughout the hospital. After my heart rate dipped into the 40s a few nights ago and I was greeted with the frantic sight of my nurse (checking to make sure I hadn't passed out in the East Garden), I figured I should let them know where I was going. <br /><br />It's interesting - walking the cooridors of a nearly empty hospital. Hand painted pictures of hearts adorned the walls near the Physical Therapy and Training Rooms. Brightly painted, each heart was unique and probably as different as the artists who painted them.<br /><br />I also found a Zen Garden. Although the no eating and no drinking didn't seem very zen-like to me. On the flip side, when patients braving chemotherapy and other procedures that prohibit them from drinking and eating, it's wonderful to have an outdoor place to visit and not worry about feeling ill due to someone else's Pimento Bean Soup.<br /><br />I don't even feel sick, yet the thought of Pimento Bean Soup makes me queasy.<br /><br />It was interesting - walking around dressed in normal clothes (jeans + shirt = bliss), sans hospital gown. Yes, I have a hospital band on one arm (SORT of like the band race directors attach to your wrist when you're racing...), and IV in the other, and a portable EKG. But after one, two, three, four, and then five groups of people gave me wide berths and funny looks, I started to wonder what was going on.<br /><br />Me: normal looking, not sick looking...hospital bracelet...iv in arm...and ekg machine in the shape of a box.<br /><br />And then it hit me: either they though I was on house arrest and some drug addict in the hospital with my gps tracker in my hads which kept track of my whereabouts at ALL times... OR... that I wasn an escaped mental patient, roaming the halls.<br /><br />Yikes! Neither sounded good, so I quickly made my way back up to my room. Yeah.<br /><br />And now... well... now I wait. I just finished my non-hospital dinner (which was the same as my non-hospital lunch). Thank you to Jaime and Meredith - real food never tasted so good. Nathaniel and I both enjoyed the fish and kalamata olives..but that chocolate brownie thingy was the BEST baked good that I've had in a long time. I think I moaned a little - so did Nate. And I figure the extra healthy stuff is good for me in the long run, even if my INR levels don't appreciate it. But more about that later.<br /><br />Mom will be arriving soon, and even though Nathaniel and everyone has been wonderful out here - there's nothing like having your Mom at your side...It makes all the difference in the world.<br /><br />Fingers crossed - tomorrow at this time I'll be home... cracking jokes with the family, petting the House Monsters, and watching trash TV. In my own bed. <br /><br />It's the little things my friends - the little things that make all the difference. Icing on that proverbial sheet cake. Or, in this case, baked good.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Let's keep on keepin' on....</span><br /><br />And one last VERY important note: Happy Birthday America! Cheers! Salute! And THANK YOU to all the men and women in uniform - past and present - whose love for this country helped make it what it is today. (And the families that supported them!)<br /><br />Oops - even more important... HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM! This is the second time I've been in the hospital on your birthday...Fingers crossed it's the last. But at least we get to see each other - yea!Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-85933513040143619932010-07-03T21:34:00.000-07:002010-07-03T23:40:02.897-07:00Saturday at ScrippsIt's been quite the adventure this past week. Last Saturday, I woke up early (reminiscent of Ironman training...), rode 4+ hours, spent time at the beach for a volunteer clean-up/hanging out with friends, and Nathaniel and I went out for dinner with another couple. We had sushi - it was delicious. I ordered 2 rolls - no recollection of the first, but the second was Alaskan.<br /><br />AWESOME!<br /><br />And then I polished off half of his. <br /><br />What can I say? He was enjoying his Kirin beer a little too much to notice, and I was the designated driver. <span style="font-style:italic;">But that's what couples do, right? </span>The sacrifice for NOT drinking, is enjoying an extra piece of sushi or four. Perfect.<br /><br />I think I've figured out how to negotiate my designated driver availability for the next 4-6 months. EXTRA SUSHI. I LOVE it!<br /><br />Here's the good news - My INR number (indicator of the body's ability to clot blood) is 0.1 under where it needs to be before I can be release. That was early this morning. Hopefully with another day of Coumadin and Lovenox in my system, I'll be within the ideal 2.0 - 3.0 range and can head home.<br /><br />I AM SO EXCITED!<br /><br />Aside from Nathaniel's coffee, sushi, snuggles from House Monsters, and any sense of privacy - it hasn't been that bad here. But still - going home tomorrow, on the 4th of July - would be awesome.<br /><br />In the interim, a few observations from the hospital...<br /><br />* Hospitals should totally supply robes in addition to gowns. Seriously. Aside from flashing the ENTIRE ward with my right boob, I didn't let any parts of my person become exposed. But man - I was being SO careful, keeping the back of my gown shut (image: Jack Nicholson in "As good as it gets"), that I simply forgot about the front. Luckily my nurse saw me and quickly remedied the situation. <span style="font-style:italic;">Whoops!</span><br /><br />*If you are nice to the nurses, they try to work deals so you get a private room. Donating extra baked goods never hurts...thanks to some WONDERFUL cupcakes from Molly - what can I say? That I wanted to bury my head in the cupcake box? <span style="font-style:italic;">YES. YES I DID.</span> But I didn't...<br /><br />*When Motrin didn't take away my headache and diet coke did - well, let's just say that's interesting and leave it at that. <span style="font-style:italic;">No, I'm not addicted...I just really like the stuff!</span><br /><br />*I was so excited when I received a package of flowers, I ran to the nurse's station to ask for scissors and then ran back to my room to open the box. Only when I was tearing away at said box, did I realize that - as the girl on blood thinners - I would need to be careful when I ran with scissors. Not that I make a general practice out of it - but as I am clumsy... I'll need to be careful around sharp objects.<br /><br />*Please be friendly to the staff and volunteers. I DO NOT think, for a second, that they ever take pleasure in making patients hurt or denying a high quality of care. But the amount of abuse they take from patients and patient's families was astonishing. There were times when I couldn't believe my ears. Next time you're in the hospital and on the road to recovery - thank your nurse and doctor AND the volunteers who stop by.<br /><br />*I made friends with not one, not two, but THREE Canine Companions. The volunteers and their volunteer dogs were FANTASTIC and brightened my day considerably.<br /><br />*My lower right leg and foot has decreased considerably in size. A few days ago, it was "obese". Now it's just "chunky" or "big boned" - sort of like Tabbitha.... But in all honesty, my right leg is almost the same size as my left leg. There is hope!<br /><br />*Even though swimming is okay with Coumadin - I CAN NO LONGER open water swim. <span style="font-style:italic;">Why?</span> Because of sharks - IF I was bitten, there is NO WAY I could survive the swim back to shore - the blood loss would be too great. Then again, that's assuming that I could make it back to shore without getting devoured in the first place. I think I've found a LEGITIMATE excuse to not OW ocean swim. Awesome! <br /><br />*After years upon years upon years of being on birth control pills, and suddenly stopping them mid-cycle - well, let's just say it's <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> a great feeling. My uterus hates me. That's all I'm saying.<br /><br />*Visitors, emails, phone calls, flowers, notes, baked goods, diet coke, clean underwear, toiletries...all wonderful. I can't thank people enough for the love and support I received.... friends in the area, complete strangers who read my blog and send flowers (THANK YOU - I don't know who you are - but I so appreciate you, the note, and the beautiful bouquet). Nathaniel and I are both grateful.<br /><br />*I actually feel sorry for my veins. I know it's nothing like what some chronically ill patients endure - but because of all the meds and because I've been poked so many times, my veins have decided to shrivel up into my person. There were tears yesterday when they couldn't get in a new IV line...followed by a beautiful bruise.<br /><br />*REAL clothes - wonderful. I could have worn a different outfit every day - but the comfy sweat pants and sports bra were the big hit.<br /><br />*I think I make the EKG people nervous - for the first few days I felt as though I was being followed...either my nurses or the techs would walk past me - sitting outside with friends or plunking the piano keys in the lobby - to make sure that my low heart rate wasn't an indicator that I was passed out on the floor. I really did feel sorry for the disheveled looking guy when my battery pack died.<br /><br />*I avoided the green jello. <span style="font-style:italic;">Nuclear </span>green jello.<br /><br />*I can be aware of and NOT EAT a small bag of Peanut M&Ms for three days before the bag is ripped open. Personally - I was impressed.<br /><br />Thank you again to All - I am forever and eternally grateful. <br />With love,<br />MaritMarit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-11775212501577036862010-06-30T21:50:00.000-07:002010-07-01T01:27:55.940-07:00Not exactly like Captain Phil, but sort of...I've thought a million times over the past few days about how to write this blog post - let alone start it. But from the beginning is best, so that's where I'll begin.<br /><br />First thing's first. I'm alive and okay - doing great, given the circumstances. I've managed to keep my sense of humor, even while flashing an entire corridor of patients and hospital staff. And yes, I was grateful when my nurse kindly brought me an extra gown. So...sense of humor: check.<br /><br />Second: Holy Cankle Batman!<br /><br />And notice that I say "cankle" not "cankle-<span style="font-style:italic;">s</span>". Because I've got one, not two. And from the angle where I now sit - hospital bed with my right leg propped up on several pillows, my awesome Cankle is joined by a Fat Foot. Seriously - it has it's own zip code.<br /><br />Let me begin - back up for a bit. And in all seriousness - keep in mind that <span style="font-style:italic;">you are reading this blog after the fact, and I'm alive.</span> Here we go-<br /><br />Monday morning I went in for a routine appointment with my awesome Primary Care Doctor. Remember how she fixed my sinus and pneumonia woes? Because of her help, I've been able to regain my health, start training, and return to my normal lifestyle.<br /><br />I was hoping to get a referral for an Orthopedic Surgeon, as I suspect that I have Chronic Exertional Compartmental Syndrome (CECS) in my lower right leg. The varicose veins are a side-effect, and I thought that by treating them in the beginning of the month - I could rule out those veins as the culprits to my leg pain. My Vascular Surgeon was very helpful, but ultimately the sclerotherapy didn't eradicate the problem. I continued to train with the medical grade compression hosen though, I was still experiencing swelling and discomfort akin to CECS.<br /><br />Just before the appointment ended, I asked my Doc if she could take a look at my right leg. It was swollen and uncomfortable - even without running. I thought I may have twisted my ankle while trail running the previous week... it was sore and painful to the touch - but not SO painful that I couldn't continue to train and run.<br /><br />And that's when things began to pick up.<br /><br />Without pausing for thought, she informed that I NEEDED to have my leg examined via ultrasound, just to rule out a blood clot. I had no idea swelling could be associated with blood clots or Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) - but it can.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">REPEAT: SWELLING OF YOUR LIMBS CAN BE ASSOCIATED WITH DEEP VEIN THROMBOSIS. IF YOU ARE EXPERIENCING ANY OF THESE SYMPTOMS, HEAD TO THE NEAREST EMERGENCY ROOM IMMEDIATELY. YOUR LIFE COULD DEPEND ON IT!</span><br /><br />Scripps Clinic in Vista had an ultrasound machine, and I was booked immediately. I didn't really think I had a blood clot - but I followed my doctor's instructions and headed over. Before I left, she informed me that IF something was going on, the ultrasound techs wouldn't let me leave and she would contact me shortly. But that I would probably be fine... but she really wanted me to get the ultrasound for peace of mind.<br /><br />Driving to Vista, I was slightly alarmed - but I easily talked myself out of any real concern. <span style="font-style:italic;">I'm a 29-year old VERY ACTIVE triathlete, in great shape, and I ran 1:45 yesterday morning... had a fantastic bike ride the day before.... IF there's a clot, well - that just can't be. Whatever. She's just being thorough - and that's why she's awesome. But man - that would suck... It's like a Milan Kundera novel, where the characters go through tons of shit before finally finding happiness, only to die in the end.</span><br /><br />So - I may have broken a few speed records. Oh well.<br /><br />In Vista, the staff was really good at getting me in and prepped for the ultrasound. <br /><br />I really didn't think they would fin anything. I had had an ultrasound before my Sclerotherapy injections back on May 21st. BOTH legs were completely clear of clots - superficially and the potentially deadly DVT kind.<br /><br />The ultrasound tech even joked with me that she routinely saw cases, where people had swollen limbs - but they rarely turned out to be blood clots. My ears perked up when she saw my leg and commented, "Well, gosh! You do have the symptoms, though."<br /><br />10 minutes passed, and I could feel her rolling the ultrasound device on my upper right leg, near my groin. I tried to make conversation - after all, I'm a talker - but I figured I should let her do her job and that distractions for something like this would NOT be good.<br /><br />20 minutes passed. She was still working in the same area.<br /><br />30 minutes, and I was finally allowed to turn, allowing her access to the back of my leg.<br /><br />I tried to stay relaxed and not fall asleep. Instead, I started fingering violin pieces with my left hand, trying to pick out notes and remember all the proper fingered passages. My favorite stand-by was Fritz Kreisler's Praeludium and Allegro. I got through it at least six times before we were all finished.<br /><br />40 minute passed.<br /><br />50.<br /><br />60. I changed positions and she ran the ultrasound device over my lower leg. I thought about asking if she could see a minute broken ankle bone, but kept my mouth shut.<br /><br />70...75 minutes later, she announced she was finished.<br /><br />And I knew I was in a world of trouble.<br /><br />As I started getting dressed I commented, "It's bad - isn't it?"<br /><br />She looked at me and said, "I can't tell you anything. Your doctor will have to discuss this with you."<br /><br />So I casually said, "Okay - I'll just get dressed and leave."<br /><br />"I'm sorry. I'm going to need you to stay in the waiting room until we can have someone talk to you."<br /><br />Oh fuck.<br /><br />So I got dressed, choked back a few tears, and made my way to the waiting room. That was the most frustrating part - knowing that something was very very very wrong, but not knowing exactly what it was, or the extent of it. As I sat, I noticed two pregnant women and their significant other's seated next to them. They seemed so excited and happy - both sets of parents were learning the sex of their baby. I think they were 22 weeks along.<br /><br />And me, fighting back tears, with a ticking time bomb in m leg. My fat leg.<br /><br />The irony didn't escape me: <span style="font-style:italic;">didn't Alanis Morissette write a song about something like this?</span><br /><br />I thought about WHO I could call - because I was so scared and alone in that waiting room full of hope and anticipation. I ruled out my parents - I didn't want to alarm them when I didn't even technically know WHAT was going on (even though I suspected a blood clot). And Nathaniel was flying and out of touch - so leaving a voice mail on his phone was quickly shot down as well. <br /><br />So instead, I called the closest person to Family that I have out here - Mer Trowbridge. <br /><br />I had just been out with her, Dave, Soren, and her wonderful Mom Lynne the night before. We had margaritas and awesome food at Mama Testas, the San Diego eatery that defeated Bobby Flay with their version of Fish Tacos in his "Throwdown" Food Network TV show. Sorry for that run-on sentance, oops. But really - I had a great time and enjoyed my scalloped soft tacos.<br /><br />Mer was wonderful and offered to drive 45 minutes up to Vista from Scripps Ranch - but I squashed the idea. I wasn't sure how long I was going to stay or what was going to happen. Though I WAS pretty sure that I would miss my Master's swim workout. That much I knew.<br /><br />By 11:30 pm, I was told to meet my doctor back at Scripps Coastal in Carlsbad. I figured it couldn't be that bad, <span style="font-style:italic;">right</span>? I mean - they wouldn't let me drive 75 mph down the freeway, endangering my life and the lives of others...right? I mean - they would helicopter me to an ER if they thought I was going to drop dead. Right?<br /><br />The drive passed by in a blur. And all I could think about - was that I love Nathaniel. I've had a great life with him...and I'm so happy. I'm just so happy. I've finally figured out a lot of things... and I love my life. I love my friends. I love my family. And House Monsters. And I love Nathaniel - most of all. This WILL be okay - because whatever it is, I'm going to fight it.<br /><br />I love Nathaniel. What if I never see him again? I just...I just love him.<br /><br />A few more tears were shed and I made it in record time back to my original clinic.<br /><br />Very quickly I met with my doctor and a few nurses. They gave me a shot of Lovenox, <span style="font-style:italic;">an anticoagulant therapy indicated to help reduce the risk of developing DVT, or deep vein thrombosis, which may lead to pulmonary embolism (PE). </span><br /><br />Actually, they taught me how to inject myself with Lovenox - and I did so. My doctor said that she wanted me to learn how to administer it to myself because I would have to do so 2X per day for an unspecified amount of time. But I still wasn't sure what was going on...<br /><br />My doctor returned to the room and confirmed that the ultrasound had indeed yielded the presence of several DVTs, and that it was pretty serious. She quickly inquired about any shortness of breath, any wheezing, vomiting, heart palpitations.... I told her that I hadn't experienced any of those symptoms... expect for the shortness of breath. But that was from training, I figured. Story of my life - right?<br /><br />And then the final kicker: she wanted me to head to the Scripps Encinitas ER for a CT scan - just to rule out a clot in my heart or lungs. In her words, "They are expecting your immediate arrival. It's probably nothing, but I would really feel better knowing that you don't have a clot in your chest or anywhere else."<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Double fuck.</span><br /><br />But I felt fine. Just fine. Absolutely okay. Normal. Fine. Great. Dandy. Like nothing was happening. Great. Annoyed that I was missing my Master's swim. Ticked that I didn't have my computer and my phone was about to die. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Normal.</span><br /><br />I decided to make a quick detour to the house. On the off chance that Nathaniel was home from his flight - he could be there. But more importantly, to grab my phone charge. I timed myself - 5 minutes to get as much stuff as I could...<br /><br />Yes - that competitive instinct is still there. DVT or not.<br /><br />I packed a backpack in record time, dumped a bunch of food in the House Monster's bowls, threw in my makeup bag (because I want to look good in the ER), grabbed the camera, and debated weather or not I should clean the cat box.<br /><br />And yes - with my bag packed and ready to depart on my way to the hospital to confirm that I DO NOT have a Pulmonary Embolism, I decided to take care of the box.<br /><br />I figured - I was already there... I had been given a dose of fast acting Lovenox... and God forbid something should happen to me, I DO NOT want friends and family thinking I neglect my cat box.<br /><br />After all - Nathaniel's call sign is "Litterbox". <span style="font-style:italic;">And no - not because we have two cats. But because "Lauterbach" is hard to pronounce. Or maybe because we DO have two cats. Who knows. Funny how that world of call-sign-giving works...</span><br /><br />With a clean cat box and clean conscious, I bid farewell to Tabbitha and Anabelle and sped down the five towards Scripps Encinitas.<br /><br />My brief wait in the ER waiting room was expedited by a combination of people watching + menial check-in tasks. I gave the usual urine sample, an unusually high 12 vials of blood (by number 12, my vein had stopped cooperating. <span style="font-style:italic;">Dude - I would have stopped cooperating if I was that little vein</span>), watched World Cup replay action, and burst into tears when Meredith ran into the waiting room - bearing gifts and happy feelings.<br /><br />She mentioned that Soren was sleeping in the car and that her Mom was reading - and that she wanted to stay with me as long as I needed. I think I cried again.<br /><br />The time passed by quickly, and before I knew it, I was ushered into a bed deep in the bowels of the ER. Mer offered to step out while I changed into my hospital gown - but I've had plenty of hospital experiences before. And unfortunately, I know that maintaining a fair amount of modesty isn't always possible.<br /><br />So she stayed.<br /><br />And - while the tech applied EKG stickers all over my chest and abdomen - joked that I was the "Female Lance Armstrong".<br /><br />"Really? Did you write a book?" he asked, with obvious interest. Nothing about mad cycling skills or fathering 5 offspring post cancer.<br /><br />"No - she has a blog" Mer triumphantly explained.<br /><br />I wanted to pull the covers over my head and hide. But as it was - I was flat on my back, boob exposed and flushing with embarrassment. And I laughed as well - how could you not. Leave it to Meredith to say something like that. And I loved her for it.<br /><br />Later she shared the bag of loot - pretzels, peanut M&Ms, Red Vines (no Swedish Fish, she explained!), trashy magazines, a paperback, diet coke, squirt, and a toy that Soren had decided to share. I was touched. And wanted to devour the M&Ms right then and there - but wasn't sure if that was kosher, given the fact I was awaiting a chest CT.<br /><br />So I waited. While my stomach growled and the machines I was hooked up to beeped away.<br /><br />At some point, my ER doctor came in - and I recognized him as the SAME one who had diagnosed my pneumonia. I liked him already. Mer commented, "Good, he's old and crusty. He knows his stuff."<br /><br />Time was passing, and I knew Meredith needed to feed Soren and spend time with her Mom. Nathaniel was still at work and I knew he wanted more than anything to be with me - to be by my side - but it was just beyond his control to be at my side. And besides, we didn't have all the answers and I refused to alert family and friends before I had a clear picture of the situation as a whole. <br /><br />I insisted that she leave - even though she made it clear she would stay - gave her a HUGE hug, and told her I would update as I learned more. And that I loved her.<br /><br />Time seemed to slow down and speed up. I thought about the what-ifs and pondered many different <span style="font-style:italic;">hows</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">whys</span>...But before I knew it, I was being wheeled into the CT Scan room.<br /><br />I tried to settle my mind... I knew blood clots anywhere were dangerous, and in all honesty - I was doubtful of one's presence in my lung. <span style="font-style:italic;">I would have felt it, right?</span><br /><br />The CT Scanner has always been slightly disconcerting. I always think of the scene from "Contact" starring Jodi Foster - when she's sitting in the machine that's going to send her to a different universe. And I know that the CT machine won't harm me - but I'm always afraid that some piece of metal I had implanted will get ripped from my sternum when it gets fired up. FYI: I don't have any metal in my sternum.<br /><br />But because it was a chest scan, I got VERY up close and personal with the machine.<br /><br />The tech explained that this was all routine - that they saw plenty of DVT patients for suspected Pulmonary Embolisms and that, even though he couldn't confirm I was okay, things usually were clear. No worries.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I've heard THAT before.</span> But I kept my thoughts to myself.<br /><br />He continued on and explained that the timing of the scan was important - because we had exactly 90 seconds from when the special CT scan dye was injected through my IV, to take the pictures of my chest. I felt the warmth of the dye spread up my arm and over my shoulders, and down my other arm. Quite relaxing, actually. I was surprised when I felt the warmth spreading through my groin and made a mental note that <span style="font-style:italic;">yes, it DID feel like I had just peed myself,</span> like he warned it would. Noted.<br /><br />I held my breath when the machine told me to hold my breath. And I breathed when it told me to breath.<br /><br />And then we were done.<br /><br />Even though I was wheeled out of the scan room and back to my regular spot, I realized I had been holding my breath. Even though medical personal had been telling me - all day - that "this was routine" and "most people are negative"... I had been positive for every test. I was nervous and scared.<br /><br />I know the nurses realized this - because they waited with me and cracked jokes about the World Cup. We discussed mountain biking and swimming - and I commented that I REFUSED to ocean swim anymore for fear of sharks AND that mountain lions sketched me out so I carried bear spray.<br /><br />And if you think I'm kidding - I'm not.<br /><br />While waiting for my pulmonary embolism test results, I was STILL confessing my fears of rogue sharks and mountain lion attacks. <span style="font-style:italic;">Hey - it only takes one!</span><br /><br />45 minutes later, I overheard my doctor on the phone with (who I'm assuming was) the cardiologist or radiologist. I could see the scan of my chest and lungs from across the room - and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't help but be fascinated by the image. It was the same thing when I broke my sacrum.<br /><br />And then my world came crashing down, when I heard my doctor say:<br /><br />"Well - that's one sizable clot. Do you see that? How can you now? Yes, I've got a lock on it. Wow. Look at that thing."<br /><br />The red haired nurse looked at me nervously. I could tell he didn't want me to hear the news that way. I could see other staff in the room and pause - looking between the computer image to me and then back to the computer image. "It's okay..." I whispered, afraid that if I spoke too loudly I would miss the rest of the conversation. "It's not like he's not going to tell me anyway..."<br /><br />But the shock of what I had just mistakenly heard, negated any future conversation processing.<br /><br />I felt like Roy Scheider from "Jaws" - where during a shark attack, the camera zooms to his shocked face while the background slips further away. I think the producers of "Lost" use this cinematic trick as well.<br /><br />I was dimly aware of my doctor coming over and breaking the already-known-news. <span style="font-style:italic;">Very large clot...embedded in lungs... passed through heart.... lucky to be alive... athlete, right?...lifestyle saved you...clot....very lucky girl...clot....clot in lungs...lucky....alive.</span><br /><br />I honestly don't remember a lot after that point. I pulled myself together enough after the doctor left to call my parents. I explained that I would be in the hospital for an estimated 3-5 days depending on how my body adjusted to the bloood thinners and medications they were putting me on. I know that my folks felt awful that they weren't with me and that thy were actually out in Philladelphia with my siter, her fiance, and his family.<br /><br />Honestly - I was really happy they were all together. It was the best possible scenario to receive news like this. Although, I think I repeated word for word the line that I used in 2008 when my Dad picked up the phone and I told him I was in the hospital.<br /><br />"Hi? I don't want you to panic. I'm okay. I'm just in the hospital..."<br /><br />And from there the rest is history.<br /><br />It's two and a half - almost three (because this entire process started Monday morning at 8:30 am) days after the fact. I'm still alive, still processing, still dealing with the aftermath of learning I should have died from a blood clot that passed from my legs through my heart and into my lungs.<br /><br />When you're in the hospital, hooked up to various machines,monitored around the clock for any sudden change, and chased down by a very worried intern when the battery pack on your portable EKG machine dies -it give you a lot of time to think.<br /><br />For now - there are SEVERAL factors that most likely contributed to my DVT and PE. We can't choose one alone - but the combination of a few caused for the 'Perfect Storm'.<br /><br />*Suspected Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome (injury to the lower leg, possibly caused by an undiagnosed stress fracture stemming from shin splints. I DID have quite a bit of lower leg pain back in January and February, and I found an entry from Training Peaks where I noted acute right shin pain during a run in Wisconsin...) <br /><br />* Varicose Veins and treatment of Sclerotherapy. Even though the superficial veins of my right leg were treated, it's still a shock to the body when 11% of it's normal blood pathways are suddenly zapped into oblivion.<br /><br />* Possible twisting of right ankle during June 21 trail run. It was AFTER that run where I began experiencing swelling... and it got progressively worse last week.<br /><br />* Birth control. Six or seven weeks ago, I stopped taking Ortho Tri Cyclin Lo and began a course of Seasonique. I hate getting my periods, and the benefit of Seasonique is that I would only have 4 periods per year. I used to ALWAYS just skip the sugar pill on Orth Tri Cyclin - but with a change in my insurance, I couldn't refill my perscription every 3 weeks...I needed to wait the full 28 days. Seasonique seemed like a great alternative.<br /><br />* Genetic predisposition to blood clots. I have a family history, and this could certainly be a factor.<br /><br />Where to begin? Again?<br /><br />For now - I'm SAFE and well cared for at Scripps Hospital. I keep reminding Nathaniel that <span style="font-style:italic;">they fixed my back and extensive nerve damage back in 2008. This should be a piece of cake!</span><br /><br />Still, Nathaniel kept repeating, "That's like Captain Phil from "Deadliest Catch". You're just like him...and he died."<br /><br />Well - that's partly true. On the flip side, I'm not a male, chain smoking, 300 pound, seated on my rear for 40 hour stretches, alcohol slugging, 60-year old Crab Fisherman. I love Alaska - and I love seafood. But Captain Phil - God Rest his soul - wasn't exactly the poster child for "healthy living."<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I thought I was....</span> I'm 29 years old... healthy... active... lively... non smoking... not sitting for long stretches... healthy eating (YEA TOFU STIR FRY!)...happy...in love.... married for 7 years (today!)....healthy...normal....29 year old...<br /><br />The most firghtening element of all of this - I feel fine. Aside from one really fat foot - I feel fine. Normal. Healthy. Like I want to go for a swim or pound out a run... return to Del Dios Highway and bike like a woman posessed through Rancho Santa Fe into Solana Beach. I DO NOT feel like I had a clot pass through my heart into my lungs.<br /><br />By the doctor's estimate - the moved several days ago...and a nurse friend commented that even though I may not have felt the usual symptoms of wheezing, coughing, chest tightness - the symptoms could have manifested themselves in some other way. She suggested extreme fatigue, and something suddenly 'clicked' in my brain.<br /><br />Friday afternoon. It happened so suddenly. I was supposed to head out to lunch with Meredith, but our plans changed at the last minute. Instead I had taken out my violin in effort to get some practice into my fingers. Half way from putting the violin under my neck, I had a sudden urge to go to sleep. Exhaustion overtook me and I decided that my BEST course of action - was a quick nap. Back could wait.<br /><br />I fell asleep nearly as soon as my head hit the pillow, and awoke nearly three hours later to my cell phone ringing. I answered it, but with much confusion. I had NO idea who the caller was, and lied my ass off in order to prevent hurt feelings. <span style="font-style:italic;">Sorry!</span><br /><br />But I felt wiped - and I NEVER take naps that long. Ever. Yes I'm tired from training (yea!) - but that is NOT normal.<br /><br />Our suspicion (and it can never be substantiated), is that sometime around that time, my body was fighting for oxygen. While the clot made it's way through my heart and into my lungs - my body was struggling for life. I still feel physically ill when I think about the chances of me laying down to take a nap - and never waking up.<br /><br />And then going for a 4+ hour bike-run workout Saturday morning, hitting the tail end of a volunteer beech cleanup that afternoon, and a late dinner with another couple. And then Sunday - a 1:45 run along PCH, routine housework, snuggle with Nathaniel, and dinner with Dave and Meredith. <span style="font-style:italic;">Normal stuff.</span> At least normal for me/us.<br /><br />I just don't know how to explain it. I can't. I don't think I ever will.<br /><br />But I WILL say this: IF YOU HAVE ANY LOWER LEG SWELLING - IMMEDIATELY HEAD TO THE ER! YOU MAY HAVE A LIFE THREATENING BLOOD CLOT AND YOU NEED TO BE ASSESSED.<br /><br />So far my EKG is normal, vitals are all good, and x-ray of my ankle showed no broken bones. We're still awaiting the results of the ultrasound done on my heart - hopefully that will come through in the next day or two. But the biggest factor is the blood thinner medication.<br /><br />Right now I'm getting two shots per day of Lovenox. Additionally, I'm taking Coumadin and trying to get my INR (International Normalized Ratio) levels between 2 and 3. Right now I'm still hovering below 1. My hospital stay is contingent on my body's ability to adjust and adapt to the Coumadin - the SOONER that the INR levels rise and stabilize, the sooner I can smoke this Turkey Joint.<br /><br />Nathaniel would love that. The House Monsters would REALLY love that. <br /><br />And let me tell you - I would REALLY REALLY love that.<br /><br />But we're also working on ensuring that the clots in my legs dissolve. I know that now I'm receiving the proper medical treatment and therapy, my risk of throwing another clot has greatly subsided. But I still have a hard time and night falling asleep for fear it will happen again and I won't survive. I was so lucky last time - so incredibly lucky.<br /><br />So now we watch and we wait.<br /><br />As you can imagine - my 2010 Triathlon Season is over. Finished before it really even began. Nope, I couldn't catch a break between the sinus issues, pneumonia, and near fatal pulmonary embolism. Again - it's all perspective. Yes, I'm sad. But more importantly - I'm alive. It really sucks, yes. Is it fair? No. And while I'm really going to miss training for a little bit, and racing - deep down I felt that something was really wrong with regards to the compartmental syndrome. I was just waiting for confirmation from the orthopedic surgeon.<br /><br />But this past year has also taught me a lot about living and life. I know that my NUMBER ONE PRIORITY is my health and happiness (and that of Nathaniel and the House Monsters!). And that in the end - I really just want to be able to throw my arms around Nathaniel when he returns from a flight, play with the kitties, and grow old while rocking on front porch swings with lots of grand children around the two of us. I want to be happy. I want to be alive.<br /><br />Racing and triathlon - thanks in part to the Ironman corporation - isn't going anywhere anytime soon. And even if I spend next year racing only springs and olympic distances, I know I'll be okay. I'll be more than okay - I'll be alive and happy.<br /><br />There are so many thank yous and people that I will forever be grateful for. My friends and family - there have been A LOT of emails going back and forth. I waited for a few days to publish a blog because I DID NOT WANT ANYONE to read this firsthand on a blog. Even if it was my blog. <br /><br />My Primary Care Physician - who I am convinced saved my life. Without her quick thinking tenacity to figure out WHAT is going on, I don't think I would be here today.<br /><br />The staff at Scripps Hospital Encinitas, Scripps Coastal Clinic, and Scripps Vista - simply put: thank you.<br /><br />My wonderful coach and even better friend (and that's saying a lot), Jennifer Harrison was instrumental in getting the word out. I sent her a quick email Monday night without any information about what had happened... when I told her Tuesday morning we were both in shock. But she mobilized in a way that only Jen Harrison can do - and quickly sent out an email to 20 or so people. <br /><br />I tried to respond right away and assure everyone that I was OKAY... feisty... joking about shark attacks...but lucky to be alive. And that they could pass on this email and forward it to anyone they wanted to. I KNOW that I had forgotten a few people - and for that I apologize. I would blame the lack of oxygen going into my system... but I can't because I'm at 100% full saturation.<br /><br />To Nathaniel - I know it broke your heart when you couldn't be here right away. But I love you and I always will. Happy Anniversary Sweetheart! 7 years.... 107 to go... I can't wait to grow old with you, rocking in our chairs, while the crickets sing their midnight songs.<br /><br />Additionally, Nathaniel's squadron has been WONDERFUL. I called them after I called the family - By Tuesday morning the amazing Gunfighter Gals had mobilized and brought more baked goods, "entertainment" magazines, candy, beef jerkey, clean underwaer, flowers, swedish fish, more flowers, diet coke, lilac shampoo and conditioner - and more of other things than I EVER though possible. Even though Nathaniel has been in the Marine Corps for nearly eight years - I feel like we're finally "home" with The Gunfighters.<br /><br />Everyone who has stopped by (HOORAY FOR VISITORS!!!!!!), sent emails, texts, called, and left voice mails. My understanding is that my voice mail box is full. Please accept my apologies - your support, love, concern, and friendship means the world to me and I WILL get back to everyone. It may just take a while - but that's okay because my INR number is taking it's sweet time. And besides - I think the nurses are in awe of my popularity. As I was the fat kid with little social skills growing up, this is pretty cool. I feel so loved - thank you.<br /><br />And finally - to the entire Trowbridge family. I love them all - and they've always been there for me. These past few days were NOT easy for many many different reasons - but the entire bunch, Soren and his wiley hair included, have been MY family. I love you guys.<br /><br />I am so sorry if I'm forgetting anyone...blame the blood thinners.<br /><br />I can't reiterate enough - IF YOU SUSPECT A CLOT, EXPERIENCE SWELLING, OR ARE UNCERTAIN - PLEASE DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND GET IT CHECKED OUT IMMEDIATELY. IT COULD SAVE YOUR LIFE><br /><br />I know it's a long road ahead - but it's one that I get to take. And for that, I am grateful. Sharks, mountain lions and all. For now - I'll keep smelling the roses, ecstatic that I even get this chance.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-43180432383404251962010-06-28T22:57:00.001-07:002010-06-28T23:24:30.809-07:00The MotivationHave you ever had one of those moments where you KNOW that you're working hard, doing awesome, hitting your watts, in the proper heart rate zone,and things are just peachy? And that because you are doing so wonderfully, the work that you're putting forth feels effortless.<br /><br />I can confirm, this is EXACTLY how I felt roughly two hours into my 4+ hour Saturday bike-run workout. Nope - nothing like Ironman training (thank god!), but my LONGEST bike ride since Kona. All three hours and thirty-one minutes.<br /><br />Pure. Bliss.<br /><br />But then something happened - unexpected and wonderful at the same time.<br /><br />I was descending Del Dios Highway from Elfin Forest. And yes - while the descent is wonderful, nothing the least bit unexpected happened during this part. And given my history (*ahem *cough *cough) of sub-par descents, the boring SAFE kinds are by far the best.<br /><br />I knew there were two or three riders behind me - so I gestured for them to pass me, to move ahead whenever they felt comfortable. Bombing the decent at 45+ mph with unpredictable canyon winds and traffic in the next lane just isn't my style. Yeah.<br /><br />One guy moved ahead, but the other two tucked in behind me until the way way way bottom.<br /><br />And I don't really know why the girl said what she said, or gave me the look that she did - but as she was passing me while drafting off the wheel from the guy right in front of her, she commented, "Hang in there."<br /><br />It was the tone of voice that made me cringe.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Really?<br /><br />Seriously?</span><br /><br />Like..<span style="font-style:italic;">I'm riding cautiously down a CANYON, avoiding glass and debris and traffic, and you pass me when I'm soft pedaling at the bottom while drafting off your male cohort. </span>Awesome.<br /><br />The trio hooked up together and rode ahead, up the inclines towards Rancho Santa Fe.<br /><br />And before I explain any more, I should say that whenever I ride Elfin Forest in this direction - I ALWAYS dig a little deeper, push a little harder from the outskirts of Rancho Santa Fe through to the Solana Beach sign before San Deguito park. Always. Doesn't matter if it's an "easy" ride or MAKE YOURSELF HURT kind of ride. I have a special place in my heart for the smooth hills and rolling terrain.<br /><br />Simply stated: it's a pleasure to ride. And I'm happiest when I'm working my tail end off. Hello? That's just something about my competitive personality, I guess.<br /><br />Half way up the next hill - I made my move. I thought briefly about giving the trio a minute or two head start, and then catching them. BUT - that seemed so anticlimactic... like I was letting her win by easing up and then powering forward. No go. <br /><br />I wanted to make the pass, wanted to work hard, and wanted to give myself the satisfaction of blowing past someone who made me feel like a slow rider.<br /><br />And yes - I know it's all in my head. I'll readily admit that, and then some. But at the same point - this IS how I felt, and I wanted to do something about that. So I did.<br /><br />Throwing the bike into the Big Ring, I put my head down, got aggressive, got aero, and rode my ass off for the next 14 minutes. It was WONDERFUL. After the first minute, I stopped thinking about the group behind me, and instead focused on the elements that I could control...<br /><br />Proper gearing up the hills (because they HURT), positive self-talk to PUSH THROUGH the hard parts, keeping my head down in aero and holding my bars in that no-guts-no-glory-all-or-nothing grip that hurts so good, and riding my bike with the fearlessness and abandoment that I so love,<br /><br />After the first hill or two, I forgot about how I looked, what things felt like, the burning in my quads, or the grips on my bars... it was just me and my bike. And for the first time in a really long time, WE were fast and happy.<br /><br />Usually I'm not one to be motivated by other people... It pretty much comes from within. However, once in a while - dropping the hammer is AWESOME.<br /><br />Speaking of hammer dropping... A BIG HUGE AWESOME CONGRATULATIONS to everyone who raced last weekend. It was a doozy, eh? Extra special congrats to Angela on earning her Kona slot, and to Meredith - my awesome friend who raced her FIRST triathlon since becoming a new Mom to uber-kid Soren. I am so happy for and proud of everyone.<br /><br />Let's keep on keeping on...Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763535275333116577.post-38315616677384587212010-06-25T15:24:00.000-07:002010-06-25T16:11:07.916-07:00Bike Torture and Potato Thursday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwlR2VqwNDcmMA2duhfHoctgb1h2QckEpJQhKHKnGLEuyvcptUL1V9yA-lWbwJIU6ewessTkqJ9MQWZH0W21chUe5VjEe4-0V7ZT-vleKXwEFGI7H4hDk-sveyNmTphZpN0biD_9aqoY/s1600/DSCN5914+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwlR2VqwNDcmMA2duhfHoctgb1h2QckEpJQhKHKnGLEuyvcptUL1V9yA-lWbwJIU6ewessTkqJ9MQWZH0W21chUe5VjEe4-0V7ZT-vleKXwEFGI7H4hDk-sveyNmTphZpN0biD_9aqoY/s200/DSCN5914+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486850161878234370" /></a>Yesterday, I thought I was going to die while riding my bike. And before you get your knickers in a twist - I was NOT outside, was NOT doing anything stupid, and was completely following Jen's instructions - indoors on the trainer.<br /><br />Yes, it was one of <span style="font-style:italic;">those </span>kind of workouts.<br /><br />And while I was riding, pushing watts that I haven't seen in, well, <span style="font-style:italic;">eons</span>, and my quads were SCREAMING for a break, and my lungs were burning with the effort <span style="font-style:italic;">(but they could keep up - so that's awesome)</span>, and sweat pooled on the pad under my bike....I decided that on nearly ANY DAY, I would prefer a 5-hour zone 2 ride, vs 5 minutes of <span style="font-style:italic;">max effort pain.</span><br /><br />Raise your hand if you're with me.<br /><br />Bottom line - which trust me, my bottom was hurting enough for everyone - you train your body for the specific type of race you're aiming for. And that's not to say, when one races Ironman, one can't be fast. I just can't recollect 5 minutes of max effort pain. On the trainer. Alone with my thoughts. Suffering.<br /><br />Eight weeks I've been training - eight weeks since restarting the daily workout regiment, and I'm finally beginning to feel like myself again. And that's a GREAT thing.<br /><br />But let me tell you - the short, hard stuff...it hurts. Even more the second time (because at that point you KNOW what you're in for, and that no matter what you do - the pain of pushing high cadence + high power = massive discomfort), and third, and fourth...and you get the point. Cross-eyed and delirious, I could have sworn that I heard Nathaniel arrive home from his flight - which would have <span style="font-style:italic;">really</span> been something, given the fact that he was in a meeting at the same moment as my workout.<br /><br />It was somewhere during my second set of 5-4-3-2 at a specifically prescribed interval, that I decided 5 hours at zone 2 sounded better. Not exactly feasible given the fact that my longest ride to date (since IM Hawaii) has been 3.25 hours. But better.<br /><br />And yet...I hung on. I knew that letting up, shifting to an easier gear would NOT help me awaken my fast-twitch fibers, would not be conducive to achieving my 2010 Season Goals...and that at this point, embracing the pain, accepting the fact that THIS WILL HURT, and putting my head down and dealing with it - was the best course of action.<br /><br />So I did.<br /><br />And I have full confidence that you can too.<br /><br />My reward? Potato Thursday with some awesome friends... The Gunfighter Gals, we call ourselves, just because. But that's another story all together. <br /><br />And what, pray tell - do we do for Potato Thursday? Well... we bake a lot of GIANT potatoes (see image at the top), top 'em with anything and everything, and enjoy. Yes, there were great times and lots of booze - but that's part of the bargain with these friends. And if it means I suffer on my bike for 75 minutes before Potato Thursday - well all the better.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-Mq7O6BSomVluhcd19diAEhsK0I1yvdLJ2XrJPJV_r21y7R9qMgx-0-OSYEpNW2rM-7o0OKBDduddC1NaNHy6LCZLm6ORBE2GD1mpkRr7JFQzeNMb_WOnjZ9u3LsOWh6vDWg-iyG9zA/s1600/DSCN5935+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-Mq7O6BSomVluhcd19diAEhsK0I1yvdLJ2XrJPJV_r21y7R9qMgx-0-OSYEpNW2rM-7o0OKBDduddC1NaNHy6LCZLm6ORBE2GD1mpkRr7JFQzeNMb_WOnjZ9u3LsOWh6vDWg-iyG9zA/s320/DSCN5935+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486851581525006274" /></a>My training schedule hasn't come out for next week, and is it okay to admit that I'm already a little nervous? But more importantly, I'm EXCITED, I'm READY, and I'm LOOKING FORWARD TO IT. And that, my friends, is no small potatoes.Marit C-Lhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06742572497365287990noreply@blogger.com13