Marit Chrislock-Lauterbach

Thankful!

2010-11-25T08:50:00.000-08:00

No words can really describe how I feel this Thanksgiving. But a picture certainly can...
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.

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.

Welcome home Sweetheart - I am so thankful for you!

A Happy Event

2010-10-19T02:18:00.000-07:00

In 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 (and over!) again in Mahler, there were some pretty beautiful moments during my day...

The most wonderful of them all, though?

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.

Welcome Home ADVON!

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.

Training Mojo

2010-10-17T20:16:00.001-07:00

It's been an interesting, good, fun week, training-wise. And for the life of me, I can't remember the last time I said that. 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.

Repeat: I'm really really really enjoying myself!

I'm still wrapping my head around the recent health "adventures" (is that the right word?).... heath "escapades"....healthcapades?

No - that sounds too much like "icecapades" for my liking.

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) I'm having fun.

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.

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.

Okay... that's a slight fudge. But very slight.

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. Keep you honest.

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.

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 -
Have a great week everyone!

Weekend recap & BOUS pictures!

2010-10-12T12:13:00.001-07:00

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.

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, "If I can get through Kona, ANY future race will seem easy by comparison."

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.

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.

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 (but without the benefit of actually training). 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... but it just seems so unfair. And sometimes I'm just really sad.

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).

Bloody fantastic.

There's not really much else I can say about that. Oh well. Bah fucking humbug.

But I was 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.

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, racing. 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 (without a doubt) helping me now. If it's possible to age 50+ years in a relatively short time frame, I think I would fit the bill.

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.

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.

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!).

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.

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 pushed 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).

I think that's what I miss most about the sport - not so much crossing the finish line (although that's always an amazing feeling), but I've never felt so alive as I have in those times were I KNEW things were hard, where I wanted to slow down and stop...but I didn't! 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.

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.

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).

But the health complications of the lupus just downright suck. (Yes, I am very eloquent with my words, am I not?). 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?

I never know how I'll feel each day when I wake up... some days are great, while others I feel like shit (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!). 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 - um, for example - 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.

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 feel it, deal with it, and accept it. It's a work-in-progress. That's all I can say.

Racing and training is supposed to be fun - and I need to be in the mentality (and understand) that '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.' 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.

Back to racing....

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. (Oh - and if you ever see me at an event, PLEASE come say hi! Marta - it was SUPER to meet you!)

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.

Pre-race happy! Don't let the smile fool you - she's actually really fierce.

Lining up under the start banner.

Best of the US - Men's start!

Breaking the surface in those first few race moments...

Best of the US women running in the water.

Sunrise over the lake.

A lone swimmer rounds the final turn buoy, under the watchful eye of a lifeguard. And my favorite picture from the day.

Julia, leading the women's chase pack out of the water.

Getting ready to ride!

...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.

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.

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.

Julia, approaching T2. Yes, she had a dismount that even Jen Harrison would be proud of. Clearly, she's been practicing!

BOUS Men's champion from Alaska!

Seeley, focused to the end.

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.

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.

Rich and Julia, in one of those beautiful moments.

My friends - Julia and Seeley! Post-race smiles!

I think we've all been here, at some point or another.

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, right?

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.

Free post-race smoothies. I may never leave.

Team Minnesota - 3rd Overall in the "Best of the US" team race! HOORAY!

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!

Scattered Randomness

2010-10-08T10:10:00.000-07:00

I've got the itch to write - but I don't really know what 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.

In no particular order....

(cue harp dream music)

- 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: LOVE it while you live it, 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.

- I have a sneaking suspicion that Shitty Kitty is allergic to wheat. Is that even possible in a cat? Low and behold, I changed up her food from Science Diet to some Organic Cat Stuff (written while rolling my eyes), and no more projectile cat vomit.

- I nearly drove off the road when I heard the public radio commercial advertising the season opener of the La Jolla Symphony Orchestra. Holy Cow - that's me!! Well - me and 150 of my closest orchestra friends.

- It is a truth universally acknowledged, that the minute you buy a bag of coffee beans from a coffee shop - you see the same bag of beans on sale for $5 less at your grocery store.

- 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? A Pearson's Nut Goodie, please. 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!

- 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. Hopefully you can detect the self-deprecation in there. Anyway....there's less cankle and more definition in the ankle/lower leg region. Fantastic!

- 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.
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!

The NEW Month!

2010-10-01T09:56:00.000-07:00

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.

Well - you know. Just because.... this is life and The Fun Stuff is important. (Alright - how many times can I say "stuff" in one post?)

A few highlights....

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.

Oceanside Pier Swim - I didn't get eaten. And I deserve the coke, even if I could only get a few sips down.

May Lake, High Sierra Camp - Yosemite National Park.

Annabelle, my friend's daughter. I wish I had a green straw like that.

Norman Rockwell, eat your heart out. Restaurant Week in San Diego...thankfully I was one of the designated drivers.

Oceanside Pier.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a threesome with a helicopter and my husband.

Big Bear Oktoberfest! Sponsored by Bud Light. Cheers!

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!

The Symphony is in Session! Excerpt from Mahler's 1st Symphony. This means we're supposed to play really really really really really fast!

And with that - I'm off to practice Mahler. Cheers for October!

A New Beginning

2010-09-23T10:58:00.000-07:00

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!

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.

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.
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.

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.

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.

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.
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.

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.

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.

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.

Awesome.

You know it’s just fantastic when you have multiple standing orders at the lab – from different doctors.
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.

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).

Would you be surprised, if I said that I researched and wrote down tons of questions?

No – I didn’t think so. There were three full pages of inquiries (double sided). I’ve always been thorough.

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.

In my case – my doctor’s believe that I’ve had this for at least ten years, but most likely many many more.

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.

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.

What does this mean?

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.)

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.
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.

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.

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.
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 –

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.

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.

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.

Remember what I said before about retiring in Alaska or the Pacific Northwest? Minus the bears, it sounds pretty darned good right about now.

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.

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.

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.
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…

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.

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.
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.

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.

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.

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?
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.

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-

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.

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.

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…..

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.
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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Just getting it done.

2010-08-30T08:45:00.000-07:00

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.

And that's okay!

Because (and I know that I'm not "technically" supposed to start a sentence with 'because'. But I will anyway, because we're friends). 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.

So I'm not.

(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.

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!).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.

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!).

However. But. However.

I'm convinced that zone 1 and zone 2 are the "purgatory" parts of training - you're just there. 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.

But that's just me.

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. Ever have those days? Silly me - of course you do.

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.

Yeah.

Just 1:45 of putting one foot in front of the other.

Heading south down Pacific Coast Highway from Carlsbad to Leucadia, I felt like I had to force it... I felt slow (okay - I was going slow, but s-l-o-w-e-r), 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.

Somewhere Einstein just smiled and muttered, "Relativity, Marit."

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.

Somewhere Jen just smiled. But I have no idea what she would say.

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 (whispered) I'm not the scrap-booking type. Seriously people, I'm not.

I'm an artist.

(And yes - you can laugh all you want).

But, between the packets upon packets of stickers, different colored paper, photos, newspaper clippings, hole punchers, staple removers, various types of writing utensils, and (the kiss of death) - the paper cutter - I think I'm getting dangerously close to crossing that fuzzy line from "creative" and "artistic" into "scrapbook-er."

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:
Yes, cringe all you want. It looks like a paper store exploded.

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.

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.

Oh, and House Monsters - yes, those as well.

Finding my way! (Two stationary wheels at a time)

2010-08-23T22:29:00.000-07:00

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.

However.

But...

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.

And the added bonus: you can see definition in my ankle, DVT and all! Awesome!

Seriously - it feels like Christmas came early!

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.

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.

However - running is a different story all together.

So...

Without further ado...

...and with my doctor's permission....

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.

How many decades ago is that?

Wait - don't answer.

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.

It was awesome.

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.

Which in the long term is great -

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.

Sunset & Moonrise

2010-08-19T20:55:00.001-07:00

For 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-
Carlsbad Lagoon Trail, taken while running (yes - I was actually running) towards the beach...I just barely hit the Coastal Highway in time for the sunset).
The Carlsbad Power Plant - looking as though the Moon blew from it's smokestack. Best. Loogie. Ever.
The Ocean and US 101 are just beyond those palms.
Tamarack Beach and parking lot ~ full of people standing still to watch the sun set.
I'm always amazed at how....
...the same event....
...can be interpreted in so many different ways...
Well hello there! And yes, I realize that I'm talking to myself, but who really cares. (For the record - that wasn't a question).
Going...
...going...
See you tomorrow!
Nightlife along the Coastal Highway.
In a rush to be going nowhere; happy to take my time and enjoy the view.
There's a sun that just set, behind this tree - I swear there is.
Carlsbad Moonrise.
Crossing the tracks!
Neat-o! I discovered a "night" setting. Awesome.

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.

Putting together the pieces~

2010-08-16T23:54:00.001-07:00

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.

And that's okay~

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.

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.

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.

When life hands you lemons - you make lemonade. And then add a quart of vodka. And then things are slightly better. But only slightly.

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.

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.

I can't tell you how much this has meant to me and Nathaniel.

Last year was tough - from the standpoint that I just wasn't ever here. 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.

And for that - thank you.

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.

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....

And everything else is just icing on the proverbial sheet cake.

Airing it out~

2010-08-09T18:30:00.000-07:00

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.

...Or take pictures.

...Or think about my non-existent race season.

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.

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:

"War is the continuation of politics by other means."

I think even Nathaniel was surprised to find his Clausewitz book in bed long after I had fallen asleep.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

And therein lies the conflict. What do we do and how do we go about doing it?

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.

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.

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.

I don't know what else to do. I just don't know anymore.

Smelling the Roses

2010-07-29T11:10:00.000-07:00

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.

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:

"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."

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.

In honor of Lt. Col. Carazo and Maj. Weis, Capitol flags will be flown at half-staff.

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.

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.

Along the way I:

-Greeted the lady watering her flowers and commented about how beautiful they looked.

-Waited for old people to walk first and THEN run around them. I wasn't in a hurry.

-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.

-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.

-Deliberately left my watch at home and just ran by feel. It felt great.

-I smiled at people and made eye contact, in stead of inwardly focusing on the specific point of my run.

-I stopped and smelled the roses....one house had a BEAUTIFUL rose bush. So I stopped. And smelled it - perfect.

-I did NOT run through the yellow light and instead waited a few minutes for the next green.

-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.

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.

Awesome Animal Encounters

2010-07-26T23:09:00.000-07:00

I 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 she was running 4 miles through Lion Infested Areas.

I think she laughed when I inquired about shot guns and bear spray.

Um.. for the record - I was being TOTALLY SERIOUS.

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 the hippo is actually moving fast. Wow - that's some pretty good knee flexion, that is.

Is it me, or is this a Devil Bird?Thank God for Rock Walls and REI.

Um....If it's snout is the size of your ENTIRE arm........you probably should NOT be pointing at it.

Chinese Fire Drill--The Polar Bear Version.

Wow. The LAST animal I thought would ever stalk someone from the bush - is the hippo.Clearly, I was wrong. (But seriously - you have to admire BOTH beings form. I mean...for a hippo, he/she looks pretty good).

Honk!Sadly, this has happened to me.

Dude - that bear is SO not going into that cage.Hopefully it can't climb car.

Not everyone likes to be filmedI guess his feathers were ruffled.

Okay - I'm REALLY sorry for that. It's the coumadin.

Um....perhaps there's something fishy with the car.LOTS of House Monsters!

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.What I wouldn't give for a pouch and extra long legs.

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 those guys.

The Cardiff Shark

2010-07-24T23:24:00.001-07:00

Apparently, we're not even safe on land. I knew it! I just knew it!

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.

And then, there's that attacking through the cement thing. Yeah, that too.

During a week when I needed a laugh, this was it. Awesome.

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.

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!'"

Well played, indeed.

BRAVO to the creators of Bruce going after the Cardiff Kook!

Tribute

2010-07-23T01:48:00.000-07:00

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 -

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.

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.

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.

Sempre Fi! We will remember them, always -

The lagest and greatest - (and giving the Book of Face a run for it's money)

2010-07-20T11:29:00.000-07:00

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.

EVERYONE GO AND KNOCK ON WOOD.

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.

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!

Status Update: 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.

Status Update: 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...

Status Update: 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.
Status Update: 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)
Status Update: This seal has more flexibility than me. But I still won't go swimming in the ocean. Just because of, well, you know.
Status Update: 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.
Status Update: 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....
Status Update: 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 -
Status Update: My parents will do funny things when prompted!
Status Update: 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*
Status Update: 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.
Status Update: 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).

Status Update: 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.

Status Update: Not that my parents want grand kids or anything...But they do. 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).

Status Update: 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.
Status Update: Indeed, it is possible to cram nearly $700 worth of IKEA furniture into a 2003 Toyota Camry. Possible, but not pretty. But still - possible.
Status Update: I'm too impatient to organize everything to build furniture. My way...
Status Update: My helicopter-flying husband on the other hand, was extremely methodical. And then he built an 8 drawer dresser in under 2.5 hours. Humph. I told him the wardrobe was mine...

Status Update: My helicopter flying husband also burnt out the clutch on our 1995 Carolla - how he manages to fly something with pedals, 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....
Status Update: 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.
Status Update: Yes, I live in Southern California, where people feel the need to strap their giant poodles into the back of their mini cooper convertibles.
Status Update: The May Grey/June Gloom has returned....yet coffee stops with loved ones, is the BEST THING EVER!
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.

(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.)

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.

Status Update: Wardrobe construction - here we go!And I even have a helper....

Telephone Pole Hill, July

2010-07-11T14:03:00.000-07:00

Another 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 extra careful this time of year due to the rattlesnakes).

Again - another run on sentence. I'm blaming the blood thinners, so it's all good.

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.

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...

I'm really looking forward to taking those shots!

March 2010
May 2010
June 2010
July 2010It'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.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed for some sunshine! Stay tuned for August...

Hospital Shots

2010-07-08T21:07:00.001-07:00

Yes, 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.

Whoops.

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.

Don't blame me - blame the Coumadin. It's what I'm doing.

Welcome to Scripps Encinitas Emergency Room!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

This IV brought to you by Power Bar and Diet Coke.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 really really ugly.

My Lovenox injection shots...And I have a collection of dime-sized bruises along my "love handles" as testament to my self-injection blunders.

CUPCAKES from Molly! WOO HOO!!!!!!Along with the BEST nurses EVER!!!!

Wow! These flowers smell a lot better......than the lady sharing my room. (Luckily I moved to a private "suite" after two days. BLISS!)

No, I swear to you that I'm not about to blow up.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.

Meet my new friend Dallas!!!Canine Companions were AWESOME, and I made three new doggie friends. They really brightened up my day. Many thanks to Dallas, Tomas, and Shirley!

A healthy lunch of pita, Greek salad, milk, and...almond butter...?Clearly, I talk about peanut butter and almond butter too much, if people are bringing me jars of the stuff. And yes - I said jars. The PB went to the nurses, but I kept the AB for myself and visitors...

After one day, I added a fourth goal...Mission Accomplished!

The volunteers who delivered flowers and packages and chocolate were extra pleasant!

Happy Anniversary!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 on this earth.

Speaking of love...four of the images from my heart ultrasound.Sorry - I can't tell you what any of the pictures mean... But I do know, that it belongs to Nathaniel.

Still swollen. Sigh.And slightly discolored (due to the -cringe- broken cappilaries and tissues within the skin). I've always hated feet - and here is another reason why.

(Psst: It's the RIGHT foot)

AND REMEMBER - IF YOU EVER EXPERIENCE SWELLING OF ANY KIND IN ANY EXTREMITIES, GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM IMMEDIATELY!

Wall of hearts --discovered during my 4th of July foray through the empty-feeling hospital.

This sign gave me hope! Do I get to run stairs? Yes?? Please! YES!! PICK ME!!!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.

Mirrors were everywhere.
Rocks in the garden - always helping me to find my way.
Happy 4th of July!
I found this on the camera, and laughed.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.

I had warned Meredith...that my friend Jaime makes the BEST BAKED GOODS EVER. Sshhhh:even better than sheet cake!Yes, we were all amazed. And I swear, that I waddled out of that place.

Seven days and counting...two IVs, more bruises than I ever though possible......but GRATEFUL to be alive.

THANK YOU EVERYONE for your incredible support. Still working on those emails...and grateful to be here.

Status Update: Home and De-Clotting!

2010-07-06T22:10:00.000-07:00

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 while taking one shower, yesterday at home.

Yes, you are reading correctly...AT HOME.

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 another blood clot to the heart and lungs.

Suffice to say, there will be NO running with scissors for the next few months.

But bottom line: I'm home, I'm getting healthy, and I'm finding creative ways to stay happy.

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.

Example?

Let's just say that I've got a standing order to get my blood drawn.

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.

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.

Other bits?

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.

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.

There - I said it.

(And 170+ heart rate certainly would NOT help me...higher heart rate = more pressure = more demand for blood = greater likelihood of clot breaking free).

I'm terrified of that.

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. Trust the system, trust my doctors, trust the medicine, trust the history of success.

Trust my faith.

Dude - I don't even trust Nathaniel when he drives down the 5. And at least THEN I can yell - oops tell - him to SLOW DOWN. And he usually listens. (Although, I can totally pull the "I survived a major PE, and I refuse to be killed in a car crash due to your reckless driving" card.)

I wish I could yell at my blood clots, "Out! Out damned spot, out I say!" Err - I meant "clot".

OUT! OUT DAMNED CLOTS, OUT I SAY!

But I was thinking about this the other day - and can you tell I've been doing a lot of thinking? - 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.

And so far...I've never NOT been ready for a race...so - that's a good thing. Right?

Right.

Absolutely.

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.

As a highly competitive person - this is hard for me. Knowing that I can still be "Marit" without racing, and without training for racing.

I think that my bouts with sinusitis and pneumonia helped prepare me - but I NEVER though it would be for something like this.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

Again - long hospital stay = thinking and planning.

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?

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.

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.

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.

What else can I say? To quote Donna: "I'm De-clotting."

And that, my friends, is the latest and greatest.

Hospital Observations...(yes, I'm still here).

2010-07-04T21:34:00.001-07:00

It's interesting. Being in a hospital for an extended amount of time, yet feeling totally normal. And why am I writing about the hospital when I was supposed to be released this morning?

Because I'm still here.

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. Double shit. My parents always told me I was *special*. This wasn't the sort of example I was hoping for.

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.

...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?

Are you sure??

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.

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!

And more great news? Can you handle it?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I don't even feel sick, yet the thought of Pimento Bean Soup makes me queasy.

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.

Me: normal looking, not sick looking...hospital bracelet...iv in arm...and ekg machine in the shape of a box.

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.

Yikes! Neither sounded good, so I quickly made my way back up to my room. Yeah.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Let's keep on keepin' on....

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!)

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!

Saturday at Scripps

2010-07-03T21:34:00.000-07:00

It'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.

AWESOME!

And then I polished off half of his.

What can I say? He was enjoying his Kirin beer a little too much to notice, and I was the designated driver. But that's what couples do, right? The sacrifice for NOT drinking, is enjoying an extra piece of sushi or four. Perfect.

I think I've figured out how to negotiate my designated driver availability for the next 4-6 months. EXTRA SUSHI. I LOVE it!

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.

I AM SO EXCITED!

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.

In the interim, a few observations from the hospital...

* 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. Whoops!

*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? YES. YES I DID. But I didn't...

*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. No, I'm not addicted...I just really like the stuff!

*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.

*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.

*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.

*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!

*Even though swimming is okay with Coumadin - I CAN NO LONGER open water swim. Why? 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!

*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 not a great feeling. My uterus hates me. That's all I'm saying.

*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.

*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.

*REAL clothes - wonderful. I could have worn a different outfit every day - but the comfy sweat pants and sports bra were the big hit.

*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.

*I avoided the green jello. Nuclear green jello.

*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.

Thank you again to All - I am forever and eternally grateful.
With love,
Marit

Not exactly like Captain Phil, but sort of...

2010-06-30T21:50:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

Second: Holy Cankle Batman!

And notice that I say "cankle" not "cankle-s". 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.

Let me begin - back up for a bit. And in all seriousness - keep in mind that you are reading this blog after the fact, and I'm alive. Here we go-

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.

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.

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.

And that's when things began to pick up.

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.

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!

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.

Driving to Vista, I was slightly alarmed - but I easily talked myself out of any real concern. 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.

So - I may have broken a few speed records. Oh well.

In Vista, the staff was really good at getting me in and prepped for the ultrasound.

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.

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."

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.

20 minutes passed. She was still working in the same area.

30 minutes, and I was finally allowed to turn, allowing her access to the back of my leg.

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.

40 minute passed.

50.

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.

70...75 minutes later, she announced she was finished.

And I knew I was in a world of trouble.

As I started getting dressed I commented, "It's bad - isn't it?"

She looked at me and said, "I can't tell you anything. Your doctor will have to discuss this with you."

So I casually said, "Okay - I'll just get dressed and leave."

"I'm sorry. I'm going to need you to stay in the waiting room until we can have someone talk to you."

Oh fuck.

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.

And me, fighting back tears, with a ticking time bomb in m leg. My fat leg.

The irony didn't escape me: didn't Alanis Morissette write a song about something like this?

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.

So instead, I called the closest person to Family that I have out here - Mer Trowbridge.

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.

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.

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, right? 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?

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.

I love Nathaniel. What if I never see him again? I just...I just love him.

A few more tears were shed and I made it in record time back to my original clinic.

Very quickly I met with my doctor and a few nurses. They gave me a shot of Lovenox, an anticoagulant therapy indicated to help reduce the risk of developing DVT, or deep vein thrombosis, which may lead to pulmonary embolism (PE).

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...

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?

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."

Double fuck.

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.

Normal.

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...

Yes - that competitive instinct is still there. DVT or not.

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.

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.

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.

After all - Nathaniel's call sign is "Litterbox". 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...

With a clean cat box and clean conscious, I bid farewell to Tabbitha and Anabelle and sped down the five towards Scripps Encinitas.

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. Dude - I would have stopped cooperating if I was that little vein), watched World Cup replay action, and burst into tears when Meredith ran into the waiting room - bearing gifts and happy feelings.

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.

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.

So she stayed.

And - while the tech applied EKG stickers all over my chest and abdomen - joked that I was the "Female Lance Armstrong".

"Really? Did you write a book?" he asked, with obvious interest. Nothing about mad cycling skills or fathering 5 offspring post cancer.

"No - she has a blog" Mer triumphantly explained.

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.

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.

So I waited. While my stomach growled and the machines I was hooked up to beeped away.

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."

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.

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.

Time seemed to slow down and speed up. I thought about the what-ifs and pondered many different hows and whys...But before I knew it, I was being wheeled into the CT Scan room.

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. I would have felt it, right?

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.

But because it was a chest scan, I got VERY up close and personal with the machine.

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.

I've heard THAT before. But I kept my thoughts to myself.

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 yes, it DID feel like I had just peed myself, like he warned it would. Noted.

I held my breath when the machine told me to hold my breath. And I breathed when it told me to breath.

And then we were done.

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.

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.

And if you think I'm kidding - I'm not.

While waiting for my pulmonary embolism test results, I was STILL confessing my fears of rogue sharks and mountain lion attacks. Hey - it only takes one!

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.

And then my world came crashing down, when I heard my doctor say:

"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."

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..."

But the shock of what I had just mistakenly heard, negated any future conversation processing.

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.

I was dimly aware of my doctor coming over and breaking the already-known-news. 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.

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.

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.

"Hi? I don't want you to panic. I'm okay. I'm just in the hospital..."

And from there the rest is history.

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.

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.

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'.

*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...)

* 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.

* 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.

* 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.

* Genetic predisposition to blood clots. I have a family history, and this could certainly be a factor.

Where to begin? Again?

For now - I'm SAFE and well cared for at Scripps Hospital. I keep reminding Nathaniel that they fixed my back and extensive nerve damage back in 2008. This should be a piece of cake!

Still, Nathaniel kept repeating, "That's like Captain Phil from "Deadliest Catch". You're just like him...and he died."

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."

I thought I was.... 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...

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.

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.

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.

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. Sorry!

But I felt wiped - and I NEVER take naps that long. Ever. Yes I'm tired from training (yea!) - but that is NOT normal.

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.

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. Normal stuff. At least normal for me/us.

I just don't know how to explain it. I can't. I don't think I ever will.

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.

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.

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.

Nathaniel would love that. The House Monsters would REALLY love that.

And let me tell you - I would REALLY REALLY love that.

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.

So now we watch and we wait.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The staff at Scripps Hospital Encinitas, Scripps Coastal Clinic, and Scripps Vista - simply put: thank you.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I am so sorry if I'm forgetting anyone...blame the blood thinners.

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>

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.

The Motivation

2010-06-28T22:57:00.001-07:00

Have 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.

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.

Pure. Bliss.

But then something happened - unexpected and wonderful at the same time.

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.

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.

One guy moved ahead, but the other two tucked in behind me until the way way way bottom.

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."

It was the tone of voice that made me cringe.

Really?

Seriously?

Like..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. Awesome.

The trio hooked up together and rode ahead, up the inclines towards Rancho Santa Fe.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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,

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.

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.

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.

Let's keep on keeping on...

Bike Torture and Potato Thursday

2010-06-25T15:24:00.000-07:00

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.

Yes, it was one of those kind of workouts.

And while I was riding, pushing watts that I haven't seen in, well, eons, and my quads were SCREAMING for a break, and my lungs were burning with the effort (but they could keep up - so that's awesome), 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 max effort pain.

Raise your hand if you're with me.

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.

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.

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 really been something, given the fact that he was in a meeting at the same moment as my workout.

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.

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.

So I did.

And I have full confidence that you can too.

My reward? Potato Thursday with some awesome friends... The Gunfighter Gals, we call ourselves, just because. But that's another story all together.

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.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.

Signs of Competition...

2010-06-21T22:07:00.000-07:00

Hello! Howdy! How are you?? It's weird - but things have been A LOT busier than I would have imagined, which feels very strange because the symphony is out of session. Go figure. But that's life and we all have to live it.

I realized last weekend that I'm approximately 4 weeks out from my FIRST RACE OF THE SEASON!!!! VINEMAN 70.3. True, I'm still in base-building, per Coach's orders...and for the most part, I'm behaving myself - following the plan and not going HARD when I'm supposed to go EASY.

And remember what I've said in the past about HARD and EASY? My hard is different than your hard, and my easy may not be as slow as your hard, and it's so complicated that I can hardly keep up with myself. But you get the point.

But I realized the other day, during my longest run to date, that there have been little things, little signs that I'm antsy to race. I'm getting the itch to compete... curious? Well, follow along...

THE TOP 10 WAYS MARIT KNOWS SHE'S GETTING GEARED UP TO COMPETE!(in no particular order....)

10. In the morning, I'll race to see how fast I can empty the dishwasher. I've only broken one cup so far...Nathaniel claims that I'm surprisingly efficient. Little does he know....

9. While waiting for my dinner at Noodles the other day, timing how long it took my plate of Japanese Pan Noodles to emerge. 4:30 - awesome.

8. Schlepping bags upon bags of groceries into the house has NEVER been fun. However... when I challenge myself to take 10+ bags per hand, well, it makes life interesting. The electrician working in our basement thinks I'm crazy. He's mistaken: I just need another outlet.

(sorry - really really really bad joke. Sigh. I know I'm getting old when I come up with stuff like that, and then actually put it into practice. ugh.)

7. Counting the number of green lights I hit while biking on Pacific Coast Highway. No, I'll never jeopardize my safety - because unlike some other cyclists, I won't race a moving 2 ton vehicle for prime intersection position. But if it's yellow...and there are no 1) waiting cars or 2) cops - I'm going.

6. Upon getting passed by 4 Marines running their Physical Fitness Test, deciding that I would keep pace with the leaders (from the other side of the trail)- even if it meant passing Guy #4 back. He didn't believe me when I told him, "Good Job - you're doing GREAT! Hang in there!!" Luckily, after 10 minutes they went one way and I went the other...but I still kept the pace up...I would be lying if I said the pass didn't feel good.

5. At the gym, making SURE I bench press more than the lady with the Shape UP Shoes. Seriously- do those things really work? I've always though diet and exercise was the answer, NOT the shoes? Seriously. Yes, I will beat her, no matter what. And then some.

4. When I noticed a TIRE FLIPPING contest advertised at the grocery store, I contemplated it - just for the challenge. Post flip hernia and all.

3. Hiking with Nathaniel...my idea of an extra loop turns into a 4-mile detour. But it's a beautiful day on Laguna...the meadow is WONDERFUL at 5000+ feet...Look at the scenery! Although he's a trooper, he put his foot down. The second time.

2) While spending Thursday at the San Diego Fair (a future blog post - I promise), speed walking past as many people as possible, even if I had to turn around and meet up with my group again. And YES, it was a long long long day. And I am not a Fair Person - let's just leave it at that. Stay tuned.

1) When Nathaniel takes a shower, seeing if I can take a faster shower in the other bathroom. And dry my hair... And apply moisturize (dude - it's Southern California and dry!)...And make the bed....And have my first cup of coffee before he gets out of the shower. In his defense, I don't think he realized this the first or second time. But now, well - now he's catching on. Clearly, I need to move faster.

..And one more, just because:

1B) Timing myself while playing Kreisler's "Allegro" from Praeludium and Allegro. I think my hand cramped the other day - at least that's the only explanation I can come up with for the odd sensation in my fingers. Suddenly playing it at "normal" tempo feels...easy.

Now...as long as I can make it sounds good - that, my friends, is the key.

With that, I'm off. Perhaps to finish my stupidly long SD Fair blog...it seriously was the longst. day. ever. and. it. just. didn't. end. Ever have days like that? Of course you have... Regardless, I did have fun. It. just. took. forever. Like - my slowest Ironman time was faster - if that's an indication. And towards the end, I would have MUCH rather been crossing the finish line than exiting the fair grounds... At least the medal and post-race satisfaction would have been awesome.

Maybe I'll see how long it takes for me to write that post... yeah... that's it.

Support BALLOU Skies! (and some other odds and ends)

2010-06-14T19:02:00.001-07:00

Originally, I did it for the Peanut Butter.

You see...my friend Kim was sponsoring a contest for Peanut Butter...and I really love the stuff. Like - really LOVE the stuff. As in...I've been known to sleepwalk and eat peanut better. The empty spoon next to the sink is the only record of my midnight encounters. But...still...proof.

But then I got to thinking...and doing something just for Peanut Butter (while very tasty and delicious) seemed so wrong. Especially when the cause is so much bigger than, well, Peanut Butter.

It was originally through dynamo Kim Schwabenbauer that I became aware of Ryan's story. Ryan Ballou is an incredible young man - not just because of all the amazing things he can do. But because he does so much while fighting Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD), a degenerative muscle disorder that affects all muscles within the body.

I know that my health issues post Ironman Hawaii were not easy. But it doesn't hold a candle to what Ryan and his family endure on a daily basis. And still, they work through the daily challenges, raise an incredible amount of awareness and funding, and refuse to stop fighting this degenerative disease.

Ryan: even though we have never met - you and your family are an inspiration! I pledge to raise awareness through my blog for Ballou Skies. And I encourage my readers to check out Ryan's site and support the cause as well.

I'll leave you with this, a great quote from Anne Frank:

How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.

THANK YOU Ryan and Kim - the two of you truly are an inspiration!

In other news....

Today I went SPLAT on my run. You may find yourself asking: how does this happen? Well...let me tell you.

S: Sailing through the air was I, due to my

P: Poor eyesight and concentration. You see...there was a helicopter flying overhead and I couldn't help but wave at the Crew Chief...They were less than 30 feet off the ground, flying at 60 knots or faster. You would have waved too...especially if your husband flew one of those things. Because they are pretty cool. And I was hoping it was Nathaniel and I was just captivated when it appeared on the horizon and couldn't help myself - like a little kid at the fair, running faster and faster because you're excited and you want to keep up! There it is! RIGHT THERE! YEA! And before I knew it, I was

L: Landing face first in a pile of dust and mud. Hopefully alone?

A: Absolutely not.

T: There was a group of Marines out training, thirty feet away.

Shit.

While I was airborne, I do remember thinking 1) This landing is going to hurt and 2) I hope I don't wet myself on impact. Yes to number one, and most definitely NO to number two.

Although a few minutes later after some highly embarrassing moments (for me AND the petrified Marines - clearly they're not used to seeing a runner bite the dust), I did reflect that I'm grateful for all the core strength and push ups that I do... because it could have been very ugly with my collarbone.

And if you - my friends - ever find yourself in this position (picking dust out of your teeth and wiping the mud off your cheeks with an audience present) - don't be alarmed! Crack a few jokes, smile, pretend you were supposed to trip (duh!), say something funny about something, and then RUN LIKE HELL TO GET AWAY FROM THE PEOPLE WHO WITNESSED YOUR CLUMSY FALL.

The end.

But not yet.

Seriously folks - check out Ryan's site. I'll provide the link just to make it easy. And ANYTHING you can do...wonderful. Even if it's just clicking the link. Thank you!

http://www.ballouskies.com/Ryan.html

Telephone Pole Hill, June

2010-06-10T21:53:00.000-07:00

As a study in Southern California seasons and seasonal changes, each month I've been taking pictures of (what I'm calling) Telephone Pole Hill. When we first moved here at the end of 2008, I was amazed at how green everything seemed. Within a few short months - everything green was gone, replaced by dust and brown.

This year, I've decided to see if I can actually keep track of the changes. And yes, I realized that I missed April. But still - we've had a great start.

It was Nathaniel, during last weekend's hike who reminded me to take the picture. What a guy.

March 2010
May 2010
June 2010
What you can't see is the June Gloom. It was definitely present during our hike, but only extended a few miles inland. Yes, it's always nice to see the sun.
(Even if you have to work a little extra harder, or walk a little further to experience it's rays).

And finally, proof that we CAN survive activities that involve coordination, balance, and fun in salt water. Yes, we Stand Up Paddled in the Carlsbad Lagoon. However, even though we saw plenty of jumping fish and one very small ray, I was never fearful of (ahem) sharks. Whereas, had I been swimming - well, I just wouldn't have been swimming.

Open water in a protected lake. Yes.

Open water in salt water where there are big things with bigger teeth and you never know what's under you and anything could happen and your imagination is working overtime and it's just not fun because you're fearful that every stroke could be your last? No.

I think that's why I managed to stay upright the entire time. And had a blast in the process. Next time the goal is to bring a water-proof camera because you just never know. But for now, this is the post paddle glow.With Rachel and Jessica, at the Carlsbad Stand Up Paddle Club. And yes, I think I know what my shirt says... I love peace is Chinese or Japanese or Mandarin or something. At least that's what the people up in Minnesota told me. I just liked the heart and fit, and the peace thing - that's nice too.

It should read I love not being eaten by sharks, yeah. Or... I love Stand Up Paddling...even better.

Photographic evidence DOES exist...

2010-06-08T23:58:00.001-07:00

...Because there is so much sadness and devastation in the Gulf of Mexico. And because while watching the news, I couldn't help but tear up at the images of destroyed communities, suffering animals...and if that wasn't enough, hearing about service members killed in Afghanistan hits very close to home. I just couldn't watch anymore.

Instead, I tried to 'think happy'. And those who know me, know that I'm a sucker for America's Funniest Home Videos. Nope, I don't have a video to share, however. But. However. There DOES in fact exist photographic evidence of me wearing compression hose while riding my bike.

I made Nathaniel leave the room and barricaded myself in for a few hours while riding the trainer. But before I set off on my very boring - but totally necessary trainer ride - I took a picture of how truly and utterly ridiculous I looked. No - it doesn't change what's happening to the Gulf, and hearing sad news from Afghanistan will always put me on edge. But...sometimes we just need to take a step back and smile.
And YES - I AM WEARING BIKE SHORTS UNDER THE HOSE. Please reassure me that YOU can at least see them. This week, I'm only wearing the knee-high compression hose to help with my veins. But still. Clearly, there was a reason that 1) I rode INSIDE and BY MYSELF and 2) I didn't let Nathaniel see me in person. There are just some things he shouldn't be aware of.

Even Tabbitha was alarmed. But she kept me company for the duration of my ride, so at least that was nice.
And finally, a few pictures from our Saturday afternoon hike. Nathaniel got dressed in full hiking gear - pants included. He wanted to be extra precautions of Rattlesnakes. I laughed and responded that we had NEVER seen a Rattlesnake in the Mike TERF area of Pendleton.

And naturally, no less than five minutes into our hike, we saw a BIG one.Oops. My mistake. Yes, sir, I will gladly take a piece of humble pie.

I suddenly felt very exposed in my shorts.

I didn't take as many pictures as I normally do - Nathaniel set a blistering pace. I think it's the fact that I'm beginning to train and had already swam Masters and water ran that left me chasing his wake. But he definitely set a great precedent charging up a big hill, in full Marine Garb. What a stud.Perhaps like riding a fixed gear up Palomar? (And then back down the thing...?)

As for me - a quick self portrait just after I got Nathaniel charging the hill. I think it's a Marine thing. Or maybe just a Nathaniel thing. Or...maybe because I told him there was a RitterSport with his name on it, that I had snuck into his emergency supply pack and we could take a break at the top of the next hill.I couldn't help but laugh. And you would have too.

(Let's face it, a little chocolate will make ANYONE smile).

So...when life gets you down and blue, be grateful that you're not stuck indoors riding your trainer with 2 PAIRS of compression socks...and a cat that's giving you a look like she feels sorry for you.

At least this one wanted to snuggle.The Mini Monster is most definitely still mini, but NOT a monster here. I don't know how Nathaniel got the camera so fast - but there you have it. (Perhaps another Marine thing? No - I'm pretty sure it's a Nathaniel thing.)

The Power of Positive Thoughts

2010-06-07T21:06:00.000-07:00

Entering my fifth (or sixth...? Is fifth-and-a-half a word? If not, it should be) - but I digress. Entering my fifth-and-a-half week of training, things are humming along. So far I'm not fast, I'm not in super duper let's race! shape, and I don't physically resemble the athlete that I was this point last year (final taper leading into Ironman Coeur d'Alene).

However I'm happy and healthy - and that counts extra. So there.

But the fast part, the in-shape part...that will happen, eventually. Especially after workouts like today's morning swim. Let me share...

Right now, my only training intensity comes from swimming. I'm still in base training with regards to biking and running, (re-)building that ever-important aerobic engine (CRITICAL, if you ask me). That being said, I still carry a bit of trepidation, afraid that if I push too hard I might get sick again.

I know - odder things have happened.

But still. When you spend half a year dealing with one illness after another, taking extra precaution is second nature. Suffice to say, I'm being extra careful, and trying to not do anything stupid.

And it's easy - in the middle of a tough set, when my lungs feel like they're about to burst, my shoulders feel like lead, and the feet that I'm trying to stay connected to seem to slip further ahead and I can't keep up - to wonder if I'm feeling bad because I'm coming down with something...because my immunity is weak...or if it's because I'm working my way back into being in shape.

Hhhmmmm......

At the end of the day, I know that the best person to judge this, is ME. But trust me, when I'm this close to falling off the back of our lane train, and sitting out for 50 meters (while the rest of the lane keeps going) is akin to a GIANT piece of sheet cake - it's tough. Because in those moments, that wall looks pretty tempting, and thoughts of "preparing myself for the next set" are tantalizing.

So, all I'm saying - is that I'm flexible. Willing to STOP if something doesn't feel right, but also willing to work my rear-end off when I can.

Enter: The Power of Positive Thoughts.

A few weeks ago - during my first or second swim post pneumonia - Jen's workout instructions included a note to swim 500, alternating 50s with negative thoughts, followed by positive thoughts. And yes, I've done plenty of training (and racing!) using positive thinking to make myself feel better, perform better - and even trick my body into believing that I'm feeling GREAT (final 8 miles of IM CDA - I grinned like a fool trying to make myself believe the power of my positive mental thought was stronger than my failing quads. It worked. And within five steps of finishing, my legs seized up and I couldn't walk).

But I can't remember the last time I deliberately forced myself to think negatively while training. Lord knows, I've spent enough time in therapy retraining myself to think positively, to break down negative thoughts into positive ones. And...yadda yadda yadda.

During the exercise, though - I only lasted for one 50, instead of the five that she had wanted. One was enough to get the point: our negative thoughts have a MOST DEFINITE impact on our actions, performance, and behaviors. It doesn't take a PhD to teach you that. But 50 meters - where I told myself that my swimming sucked, that my strokes were choppy, that I looked like a beached whale flopping in the water - was enough to leave my physically slower in the water, discouraged, and ticked off at Jen.

Lesson learned - thank you coach!

Oh, and sorry for the four-letter-words associated with your name. I could not help myself.

Ever since that workout though, I've made an extra effort to reinforce my training with positive self-talk. Even when running slowly up a hill (I AM RUNNING UP A HILL! I AM DOING GREAT!), even while my heart rate reaches zone 18z biking up a hill (I'M NOT DEAD YET! I AM DOING GREAT!), even when I can barely hang on during a swim set (I AM HANGING ON! I AM DOING GREAT!)- the positive self-talk is great.

Today's swim session was hard. And I knew we were in trouble when at the beginning of the main set, our lane leader strapped on fins, turned to me and remarked, "I'm leaving after the 200..."

Pardon?

So I turned to Kelly just as she turned to me, and I remarked, "I'll lead number 3, if you do number 4." Indeed, the two of us would prevail - through thick and thin, through the inevitable pain that awaited.

The first two sets passed in a blur, and I was only slightly panicked as I set out for set number three. I can't remember the last time I lead any sort of Master's workout, and even though our lane had dwindled from three to two (including yours truly), I was a little nervous that I wouldn't make the send off. Yes - it was close...and definitely uncomfortable...and during the FAST 300, I seriously questioned how the hell I was going to get through the 800 meters of set #4.

But I pushed those thoughts aside, and focused on the things I could control. Myself - right here, right now. Stroke by stroke, turn by turn, we made our way through the set and finished exactly where we were supposed to.

The effort, though, had left me frazzled. Tired, nervous for our final set, and seriously contemplating sitting out a 50 or 100...

...It would be so easy....you're still recovering....you can do it during the second or third 100....just a 50...catch your breath...it will get you ready and you'll be faster for the final 400...it's just a 50....

I didn't know how I would do it.

But...I did.

(Like with anything that seems so far away, so out of reach - if you fixate too much on the end destination - Thanksgiving, for example - those 5.5 months feel like forever. But, if you take it day-by-day, week-by-week and not think too much about turkey, cranberries, stuffing, and pumpkin pie - the day will eventually arrive. And then we celebrate! I think that's the biggest lesson I learned from Ironman - 140.6 miles seems impossible. BUT...step by step, we get to the end.)

*I can only say the extra food thoughts are because I'm training again. Mmmmm....stuffing....mmmmmmmm......

Ignoring the sets that were ahead, my goal became twofold: 1) tackle ONE SET AT A TIME 2) STAY POSITIVE. Even if I finished with only a few seconds of rest on the wall before starting the next set, that would be OK. I was doing it! I could! I was! I am!! I CAN!!!

And yes, the 4 X 100 was painful...and even though I was given the benefit of a draft (and the rest interval was increasing by :05 per 100), I barely made the send off. But...I did make them.

The final 100 before the FAST 400, I told myself that - in spite of feeling tired and coming in just before the send-offs, I was setting myself up GREAT to really rock the 400. And then I shut off my mind and swam my guts out.

It wasn't easy - but the rewarding things in life rarely are. There were times when I wasn't sure if I was even remotely close to Kelly's feet, but with each flip turn I made sure to BLAST off the wall, streamline as long as my lungs could hold, and pull myself forward with powerful stroke after powerful stroke. The first 200 was lonely, and even though I didn't think I was keeping pace - I NEVER GAVE UP. And with about 150 meters left to go, suddenly I noticed the presence of more and more bubbles and I knew that I was doing it, that I was holding on.

I don't remember much about the final 100 - I'm sure that my form resembled that beached whale, and my turns were less streamlined than I would have liked. However, the one thing I remember was thinking, "YOU ARE DOING GREAT YOU ARE DOING IT YOU ARE DOING GREAT!"

The positive thoughts....when everything else was lost, when I was on the verge of peeing myself because the effort was so tough - I turned to positive thinking to get me through. And it did. And there's no doubt in my mind that positive thinking isn't confined solely to the world of triathlon. When we set our minds to it, we can achieve great things - of that, I am sure.

If I can do it - five and a half weeks of training post-pneumonia - so can you. Enjoy the practice, enjoy the feeling, enjoy the success my friends.

Weekend Notes...

2010-06-05T06:59:00.000-07:00

I used to have a problem with sleep-eating. Ever happened to you? You wake up with the taste of something-familiar, yet unfamiliar in your mouth, wonder how the heck it got there...only to discover a trail of cheezits and a half-eaten box perched on the kitchen counter.

This may or may not have already happened to me.

Friday morning, I woke up and I could detect the faint aroma of...peanut butter. And...I could have sworn that I dreamed of peanut butter - crunchy, smooth, creamy, peanut buttery, delicious - as well. Good feelings were gone when I saw this next to the sink:
Uh-oh.

I haven't had the heart to check the peanut butter jar. Suffice to say, after my next evening swim - I will eat MORE, to stave off any midnight sleep eating. Thank god we don't have any cheesecake in the house.

It's one thing to eat yummy-tasting things and truly enjoy the experience. But it's something else different when you can't even remember eating said item in the first place.

Speaking of training (and the increased appetite that accompanies such endeavors), I feel like I'm finally progressing from here:

To here:

But I'm not yet here -
(Although with a lot of hard work and effort on my part, I believe I'll eventually make it. Without a doubt - it just takes time...and that - my friends - is okay. It's simply part of the process we all go through)

And as though I didn't have enough fun at the pool with my camera, I saw this posted on the Water Polo Gear Shed - even though those kids are, like, 14 and most of the time their aim (and ability to catch the hurtling ball) is 97.5% accurate, I thought this was pretty neat...
It never hurts to be reminded of these things now and then.

And yes - I live in California...and when you live in California, you see things like this...
Last but not least - I know it's a HUGE race weekend for a lot of folks... GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN! For me - with the symphony - we've got a full concert schedule on tap. Yes, my 'picture of the week' (which doesn't always keep a weekly schedule...) has been changed and is the same as the one below...but it bears repeating. Just because.
Thanks to Cat for the photo - it was neat, albeit a little weird - to have someone from the 'sports/triathlon' world listen to the Me from the 'music/symphony' world - but there you go. Stranger things have happened and I'm happy to report that I didn't see her dozing off (thanks in part to the brass and percussion sections, who played their parts marvelously!)

I'm not sure what Nathaniel and I will do with our free time. Luckily he's not flying and is game for tonight's (or tomorrow's) concert. I've tempted him with free desserts and potluck delights after the Sunday performance, as it's the symphony's final concert of the 2009-2010 concert season. And it's one thing to hear Britten's 'War Requiem' - but it's an entirely different story when free brownies and baked goods are offered to musicians and their families afterwards... I'm just saying...

Have a GREAT weekend everyone!

Compressed

2010-06-03T20:54:00.000-07:00

First of all, let me start this post by assuring you, that NO PHOTOGRAPHIC evidence exists. None - zero, zilch. And yes, while I realize that a picture equals a thousand words (yadda yadda yadda), I can safely say that some things should just NOT be photographed.

My lower half would be one of those things. (Or would that be two, because I have two feet, two legs, etc?)

Let me back up for a sec, okay?

Do you remember a few months ago, when I was experiencing lower leg problems? Swelling, inability to run without pain, cankles....? Well, I did. It's easy to forget about that with all the sinus and pneumonia drama - trust me, I know.

Anyway, I've had a history of cankles and my lower leg veins-popping experience wasn't going unnoticed. I just didn't know what I could DO about it.

Three weeks ago, things became alarmingly clear.

It was pretty embarrassing, actually. Especially since I noticed it at the gym. While doing lunges of all things. Lunges! I don't mind lunges - they do wonders for the body. And it looks especially impressive if you add an 8 lb medicine ball to your routine. Suddenly the uber hard core Marines flexing the muscles in the mirror take notice.

I took a step forward on my right leg and - WHAM! There it was, clearly defined in the mirror. It flashed briefly, and I thought, for a second that my muscle was having a spasm. Alternate lunge side was fine. Another lunge forward on the right side and - BOOM! Again, I saw what looked like a snake flash up my leg from my ankle to my shorts line.

Um. Hello? Excuse me? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

Now, I'm not one to normally gawk. And I certainly don't make a practice of standing in front of mirrors and flexing - we all know I make fun of people like that. But, when I spotted my first varicose vein while lunging, all bets were off.

I waited for the Marines working out behind me to leave, and then within seconds of their departure, I found myself holding the lunge position which made my unsightly vein most noticeable.

Veins.

Uh-oh.

There was more than one.

How? Why? What, where when? WHY??

Miraculously, I managed to not get pulled over while speeding home - and did the first thing that any normal person would do. 1) Looked up every article and source of information about varicose veins on the internet 2) Stared in the mirror at my vein.

Veins. Bloody Hell.

Luckily, I had a doctor's appointment later in the week, so I figured my awesome primary care physician could help me out with any questions or concerns. While lunging at the gym a few days later, I snuck a peek - just to confirm they were still there.

They were.

My doctor was really helpful and referred me to a vascular surgeon.... one ultrasound later (which consisted of holding my breath and making grunting noises akin to giving birth...meant to promote blood flow in the lower extremities...), the surgeon gave me the *great* news. While I'm in great physical health - the valves on my leg arteries are not functioning properly, and therefore causing varicose veins in the superficial veins, blood to pool in the legs, fluid retention, and....cankles!

I remember being the only kid on the high school cross country running team with cankles - yeah. Nothing says awkward teenager, like the violin-playing girl with cankles. Now, I understand why.

Thankfully, there are things we can do NOW to alleviate the pressure and pain and swelling that these veins have been causing. Ultimately, though - the surgeon warned that within 5 to 10 years (sooner if we start a family), I would most likely need to get my veins stripped. It's just how I'm built...the genetic cards I was dealt. Goody!

But taking the bad along with the good - because there are lots of GREAT things I pulled from my relatives that I would NOT change - is a part of life. So, I'll take everything together, and learn as much as I can along the way.

Ultimately, we decided on sclerotherapy - a minimally invasive procedure, that involved injecting the affected veins with a solution that would make them (warning: graphic!) - shrivel up and die. The veins that were causing me problems weren't large enough (YET!) to warrant anything extremely invasive; and the idea was to prevent other veins from being affected, and to eliminate the already-formed varicose veins.

I decided to have the procedure as soon as I could after returning from St. Paul. I'm in week 4 or 5 of my base building period, and given the severity of pain and increased cankle-ness while training (yes, I wear compression socks while running - but I do it for MEDICINAL purposes, NOT for fashion purposes!) - I wanted to get this taken care of asap.

June 1st came and went...my doctor was very nice, and the injections didn't hurt too much. I've actually dealt with much worse pain in my life - but no one likes to hear about that stuff. Broken bones, missing toenails, hiking boot blisters - pretty much a mood killer. Besides, I wanted my doctor to focus on treating my veins. NOT gasp in surprise when I described the size of my last hiking boot blister.

So... I ever-so-helpfully traced the squiggly veins immediately after my Tuesday morning run with a water-friendly colored pencil. He was only slightly alarmed and confessed that initially he thought the lines were scars. But he laughed and said that he had a device that would help him find the veins that needed injecting.

Humph. I didn't know that. I was just being helpful.

45 minutes later - yes 45 minutes to deal with the veins on my leg - we were done.

Immediately after the injections, I needed to put on my compression tights.

Now... these aren't ordinary compression tights. No, no, no my friends. These are medical grade hose, designed for people with severe vascular and leg swelling. And not that I've timed myself...but it takes me between 5-7 minutes to put them on.

Per leg.

Like a sweaty Biggest Looser contestant trying to squeeze into size 2 leather pants. Some things just aren't meant to go together.

They are SO difficult to wrestle on, that the doctor returned to the room and asked if I needed assistance. Yes, yes I do. But I'm too embarrassed to call for help - confined to this plastic exam table in my underwear, sweating, and cursing with medical-grade hose barely over my right foot.

Brilliant!

It didn't help that the techs who entered were younger than me.

*You know you're getting 'older' not only when people younger than you are assisting you with embarrassing tasks, but also - when you are so desperate for their help that you just don't care.

I swear, I thought I heard something 'pop' in our effort to get the hose on, but we eventually got it up. Cooking spray would have helped - barely. Now that I was in, I wasn't sure how I was going to get OUT. But... I had a full 48 hours to contemplate that dilemma. Because per doctor's orders - I was restricted to medical hose AT LEAST 48 hours post-procedure, in order to ensure the superficial veins remained closed.

For good measure, I slid a second knee-high, medical grade compression sock over my waist-high ones. Just to be sure. And no, I was rendered no assistance during that endeavor. But they stood by, just in case.

And then...it was 48 hours of compression-hoosen bliss.

Let me tell you - NOTHING gets a man going like waist-high medical grade compression stockings. (no photographic evidence exists.)

Thankfully, Nathaniel was flying night flights this week, so didn't really notice. And for the record, I'm not exactly sure that's a good thing - the fact that I'm wearing the VERY APPARENT compression gear that I am and my husband of nearly 7 years does NOT notice when he crawls into bed after hours of flying.

The first night was the roughest, because the hose was itchy, hot, and kept pinching me in very intimate areas. Additionally - I found - if I fell asleep with my knee bent or in any position other than straight-legged-and-on-my-back, circulation was cut off. There were some kicks, and I'm embarrassed to admit how many four letter words were uttered before 4 am. For the record - I could feel the welts forming, and was sure that my compression sock's brand would be forever compressed into my skin.

And now...here I am. With another 14 or 15 hours left to go...in my compression hosen bliss. Hopefully though, the varicose veins will be gone, my leg will return to normal, and Nathaniel will notice when I'm no longer in waist-high hose. After nearly 7 years of marriage, that my friends, would be wonderful.

Until then, I'm compressed. And counting down the hours.

Happy Memorial Day!

2010-05-31T12:12:00.000-07:00

Thank you to all the brave men and women who serve our country, past and present. AND their families - for their sacrifices as well. Freedom is not free, and we are grateful for your service.

And now, I'm going to go hug Nathaniel!

Happy Memorial Day, friends.

Woa! Minnesota by storm!

2010-05-29T15:20:00.000-07:00

Oh - my word.

I honestly CAN'T remember the last time it's been this long between blog posts. Seriously. But then again, that's life - and we all live it from one time to another. And not that I'm 'whooping' it up with the best of 'em....but I did squeak out a quick trip to St. Paul to visit the folks and attend a Suzuki Music Seminar.

But I digress....

A few things of note this past week:

*Midwest Humidity. Yes, it does amazing things for the skin, but oh man...running or (even walking - ahem) can get HOT. I stopped for water at Black Bear Crossings on Como Lake, and I think the manager was slightly concerned when he saw my sweaty state. Suddenly the May Grey/June Gloom along the coast doesn't seem so bad.

*Sleeping with the windows open and waking to the sound of chirping birds. Awesome - I LOVE it. In California - while we could sleep with our windows open - for security purposes we choose not to. I thought our noise machine did a good job of capturing "Northern Loons". I was wrong.
*Running outside and NOT being fearful of being eaten by mountain lions. Yes, people make fun of me and yes, I think I have a (slightly) irrational fear of being consumed while training. Still - the "scariest" animal I saw was a snapping turtle. And even then, I gave him/her a lift across the road.
And on that note....

*Swimming open water with friends and NOT BEING FEARFUL OF BEING EATEN BY A SHARK. Last Wednesday morning I rediscovered how much I love open water swimming. And boy - let me tell you: it's helpful when you're convinced that every stroke won't be your last.Thanks Steve for the photo!!

And while we're on the swimming theme....

*Swimming at the Y with Julia and co. on Friday morning. Initially I was HAPPY that I wasn't tagging along for the 10 X 100 descend, followed by a dessert of 1000 time trial. Ugh. For some reason, I didn't think it right that my 5th swim since pneumonia should entail such torture. But then during the third set of a 400 IM, suddenly that 1000 TT didn't look so bad. Never has it been more true - that my butterfly was a butterflop.
*Spending time with old friends, new friends, neighbors, more neighbors - and yet feeling sad because there were MORE people that I wanted to see/meet up with...but just didn't have the time.

*Waking up to the sun streaming through the windows, rather than to an alarm. (And yes, it was still stupidly early. Coming from the West Coast, 5:20 am when I left for my Thursday run was, um...stupid). But I didn't have any other time I could actually do the darned thing - and in the end, I loved it.
*Chocolate Vitamin Chews. One word: yum!

*St. Paul Chamber Orchestra concert (featuring Joshua Bell). I was so excited I took a picture before they even walked on stage. Brilliant performance and lots of fun!
*Sushi with Mom. Again: Yum!
*My favorite new shirt that reads: Minnesota is the new California. I was out having lunch with a girlfriend whose husband flies with Nathaniel - and she happened to be up here at the same time. Anyway...she spotted the shirt first, but we just HAD to each get one. Yes, it's a little dorky that we nearly match each other...and the sales associates laughed when we posed in the store with our finds. But there you go... two Minnesota girls who live in California.
*A friend to keep me company while I'm away from Nathaniel. Apparently there's a new sheriff in town.
*Coffee and breakfast with Julia post-swim. Dude: I earned it. 4100 yards later (half of which was IM) and I was ravenous. Had there been a House Monster within close proximity, even it would not have been safe. But seriously - one of the things I really look forward to whenever I visit home, is seeing Julia. Thanks for the great times my friend!
*When Nathaniel DID call - this is how we communicated. Yes, his flight schedule was weird (flying nights + 2 hour West Coast time difference will most definitely mess up your spouse's sleep schedule...). Honestly, though - I didn't mind the 2 am wake-up call. (And yes, I was trying to Facebook chat, skype, and work the cell phone at the same time. You would too...it was either VERY late or VERY early. Take your pick...)
Downtown St. Paul at night, post SPCO and Joshua Bell Concert... magic, if I do say so myself...
Sunday I'm headed back to San Diego - to the girls and Nathaniel...but for this last night, I'll enjoy sushi with my folks, wine on the backyard patio, and great conversations all around.

A few observations...

2010-05-21T12:09:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I returned to the pool. It's been approximately 10 weeks since I swam, kicked, pulled, or smelled like chlorine. And though I didn't expect much from my swim in terms of times or technique, I decided to keep an open mind. To take things as they were.

After all - 10 weeks of no swimming, either from sinus woes, allergies, pneumonia, or any and all of the above - is quite a bit of time. I wasn't expecting a personal record-type performance. Absolutely not... I'm a realist when it comes to knowing my body and it's ability to perform. But I DID carry with me a sense of optimism, happiness, and excitement.

I GET TO SWIM!

Just before walking into the pool complex, I saw one of my Master's coaches. While it was great catching up, hearing about the workouts, and just talking about training and life-stuff, he commented, "Boy it really hasn't been your year, has it?"

I squinted at him and replied, "Yeah, you're right. Race-wise, it really hasn't. My focus has shifted from performance to health and happiness."

And it's not that the two ideals can't coexist together. For those high-level and extremely successful athletes, I think the boundary between performance and happiness isn't blurred...they are successful, in part, because they're doing what they love, staying healthy, and are generally happy. Add that to an incredible work ethic and natural ability, and you've got yourself one heckuva successful combination.

For me, though - I know myself well enough to know that RIGHT NOW, the focus is less about performance, and more about having fun, staying healthy, and learning from the experience. That's exactly what I need to do, to focus on, in order to deal with the disappointment of not racing and fear of falling ill again.

(On the flip side, I'm in week #3 of careful base building and couldn't be happier! I GET to do this..so far so good - knock on wood). Welcome to 8 weeks of base training! YEA! The performance will get there, eventually, and I'm excited to compete one again. But only when my body is ready. That's a line that I'm not willing to cross or compromise on.

Believe me - constantly being sick will make even the heartiest of athletes reconsider not only their race schedule, but their ideals as well.

During the swim, though - his comment got me thinking...

I'll admit - race wise and athletically - this hasn't been my year.

Let's face it, I'm allergic to Ironman.

In all seriousness - too many sinus infections to count, pneumonia, lower leg issues...doesn't exactly boost one's confidence, eh? But I've done the best that I can with the tools that I've been given, dealt with and accepted my frustration and anger, and let go of my 2010 schedule. I've accepted the fact that I might not race until much later in the season (if at all) - and am thankfully okay with that. A little sad, yes. But the goal is health and happiness - and as I've said before, everything else is just icing on the proverbial sheet cake.

On the other had, these past few months have provided me with a lot of insight and personal growth. Honestly, I don't think that I would compromise or trade one for the other. Between playing violin and a musical career (teaching Suzuki AND gigs - holy cow!), to expanding my writing and photography, finding an incentive to leave the military standard of health care and find my own great doctors, and even the plethora of hikes and adventures that I've been on with Nathaniel... there's a lot there.
I can honestly say, that had I been training for Ironman or taking triathlon as seriously as I have in the past, I don't think I would have auditioned for the symphony...worked on my pictures...found a doctor that I really really really like...or explored the trails of Southern California.

So, with that in mind - I think it's been a VERY successful year. Perhaps not what I envisioned when I established my 2010 Season Goals, but not necessarily bad either. Just different. I think that if I was too focused on HAVING to compete and HAVING to race and HAVING to hit my numbers regardless of the circumstances, well - gosh... that just doesn't sound fun. It would suck the remaining happiness out of me...like the dementors from Harry Potter. And the first half of 2010 would have been unbearable.

I know that eventually I'll tack up those 2010 Season Goals (because the timing just hasn't felt right YET...and I'm still looking at the 2009 Season Goals scattered around the house) - but I'll do it when I'm ready. When my body ready. I've learned these past few months, that there are some things you just can't rush.

And as a non-professional in the sport of triathlon, I'm okay with that.

It's so easy to get caught up in achieving our goals, hitting our numbers, doing XYZ, that we loose sight of why we do this sport in the first place. And at the end of the day - the reason I choose to compete is very different from your reasons (and vice versa). Okay, nothing earth shattering there, I'll admit.

But in taking a step back from competition for the first half of 2010, I've noticed that the MOST SUCCESSFUL athletes, are those who truly love what they're doing, take the time to do the work, listen to their coaches/mentor and who don't place too much pressure on themselves to perform. It's one thing to establish goals and bench marks...they are critical to success and we absolutely CELEBRATE when we hit them. On the flip side, it's not the end of the world when we don't.

Instead, take everything in, review and digest, and focus on the future...on controlling what you can control and letting the other things go. And having fun - yes, the most important ingredient. Love what you do, and I promise that you'll do it well. And as I've said before, everything else is just icing my friends, icing.

The Flex-Arm Hang Competition

2010-05-19T13:17:00.000-07:00

My gut response was an immediate and resounding, “NO!”

N. O.

However, there was another part of me that wanted to accept the challenge. But I shook my head, no, and politely informed the gym manager that I wasn’t interested in entering the Flex Arm Hang Challenge. No, no thank you.

I had to hand it to him, though – he was certainly trying his best. He promised great participation prizes, awards to the top three, and made it seem like a lot of fun!

Exclamation Points!!!! and all.

But still, I said no.

While cooling down on the bike, I tried to convince myself that even attempting the challenge would be silly. I had just finished a massive strength and conditioning workout, I hadn’t been training ‘seriously’ for more than two weeks, and besides – only Marines did pull-ups and flex arm hangs.

It’s open to EVERYONE he reminded me.

And still, I was resolved. Even when I handed my towel back in, gathered my gear, and marched out the door. Walking across the parking lot I could see the pull-up bars where the challenge was being held. I wondered how I would even get up – they seemed so high. And given my clumsiness, it would be just like me to leap for the bar and fall on my ass.

But…

There was that other part…the part that wonders, questions…the part that believes you should just go for it. And she was making her presence known as well. Just think of the funny blog you could write if you did it, the voice whispered.

Now I was hearing things – never a good sign. Clearly I needed to turn the car on and DRIVE AWAY from the damned bars. The only bars I was interested in,were my PowerBar Recovery Bars…yummy and delicious, packed with the best post-workout recovery blend ever. PowerBar vs PullupBar. I knew which one I was going for.

Cue: car being turned on…

I swear to you – I even figured out HOW I would begin my non-flex-arm-hang challenge post. I would quote The Great Wayne Gretzky with, “You miss 100% of the shots you never take.”

With all due respect, Mr Gretzky – what if you don’t want to shoot in the first place?

But then I scratched that idea. It sounded stupid.

However – the meaning behind the quote stuck with me. You miss 100% of the shots you never take. You miss 100% percent…shots…never take. Never taken… You miss….

And it got me thinking.

Seriously – what did I have to lose?

Yes, my pride when I fell on my ass while jumping for the bar. But aside from that – really, what was there to lose? And besides, I could write one hell of a funny or poignant blog from the experience. I’ll do it for the blog, I decided while turning off the car and marching the 100 meters back to the gym.

Screw that, I thought. I’ll do it for ME. Because I can, because I’m strong, because I love the challenge, because I don’t want to look back and regret the risks that I didn’t take.

Suffice to say, the gym manager, recreation attendants, and other patrons were surprised to see me back in the gym. Before they could get a word in edge-wise, I opened my mouth and blurted, “Okay! I’ll DO it!” And then I continued, plowing on, “I love to write and I have a blog, this will make a great story!”

Yes, I am a nerd. But I’m proud of it.

But I don’t think the second thing I said really registered, they were all super surprised, but super excited to see me back and entering the challenge. Exclamation points and all!!!!

I could feel the eyes of the power lifters on our backs our procession marched through the gym. It wouldn’t have been so bad, except the manager kept turning to me and excitedly saying things like,“I just KNOW you’re going to win it! You’ve absolutely got this challenge! It’s not that hard – all you have to do is hold on for 65 seconds… that’s the first place time, and I just KNOW you can beat that!”

Though is enthusiasm was infections, I was a little embarrassed. And gee - nothing like adding a little pressure.

Especially when the guy bench pressing 395 pounds just looked at me. (For the record – he owns the current bench press record at the gym. And for the life of me, I can’t remember if it’s 425 or 475 pounds. Does it really make a difference?)

Our little entourage was growing, as another gym patron joined our procession. She was eating a slice of pizza, shorter than me (I’m ‘5 4” on a good day), and assured me that I would definitely beat her record of 12 seconds.

Goody.

I wasn’t sure if she was being facetious or totally serious. Given the fact that she wears a uniform on a daily basis, I erred on the latter.

As we made our way outside, the gym manager was still chatting away. I think he just didn’t want to give me a chance to speak up and back out of the contest. I confessed to the female gym assistant walking next to me, “Um…I’m not sure I can even reach the bar…?”

I was already having palpitations of the thought of jumping for the bars, missing and… The picture wasn’t pretty. I didn’t want the wood-chips at the bottom to be lodged anywhere they didn’t belong.

“Oh – it’s no problem. There are little ledges you can stand on to reach the bar. Even I could do it – and I held on, for: 45 seconds!”

I looked at hear – tall and lanky, barely an ounce of extra fat. Gee - maybe this flex-arm hang thing was harder than I thought…. After all, the top score that Female Marines can receive on their PFT flex arm hang score is: 90 seconds. Perhaps this would more challenging than I had initially anticipated.

Just think: you're doing for yourself. And you're doing it for the blog...

Let’s face it – any physical endeavor where one is just holding oneself in a specific position – is difficult (both physically and mentally). Have you ever tried a plank? I swear that after: 20 seconds, I’m shaking (and that’s with all fours on the ground). Suddenly - supporting my entire body, with my chin over the bar (in proper flex-arm-hang position), seemed a little more daunting. But I assured myself that this was ‘for the blog’. And that I would regret it if I didn’t try…

Before I knew it – we had arrived.

I wanted to tell them before the contest even began – that I wasn’t a moron. That I raced Ironman, for Christ’s sake! (Okay - the moron thing could be applied to Ironman, I grant you that.) But I hadn’t been training and I was tired and my strength workout kicked my ass (courtesy of Jennifer Harrison, thank you very much) – but I knew that any excuse would sound, well – like an excuse. Blah blah blah. So I kept my mouth shut.

Wow… the bar looked – um, high. Thankfully there were only three or four in attendance, and the parking lot wasn’t too full. I could see Marines in the adjacent field playing flag football over their lunch-time break. I hoped they were too distracted with their game to see my attempt.

“Whenever you’re ready! Do you know what to do? Have you done this before? Remember the current record is 65 seconds, I KNOW you can do this! Are you ready??!”

Honestly, the gym manager seemed way too excited about this flex arm thing. Wired. I think I only get that way after four cups of coffee (which isn’t unheard of during concert weekends).

Last minute explanations were given – Keep your chin above the bar at all times…it’s MUCH easier in the underhand/bicep postion, instead of the overhand/lat position…whenever you’re ready… YOU’RE GOING TO DO GREAT!!!!!......

I took a deep breath. This was for the blog. And for trying new things. Oh – and no regrets. That too.

I don’t know if it was the fear factor or not, but at the very last minute I blurted out, “For the record, I did a ‘serious’ strength workout. I want that known.” Seriously – who am I? I must learn to control my outbursts a little more.

And before I could stop myself, I – ever so tactfully – added, “I hope I don’t pee on myself.”

If anyone said anything, I don’t recall.

I carefully stepped on the metal ledge under the bar. I could tell that it had been freshly wrapped – and the white medical tape looked unused and pristine. I guess there’s something good about being ‘short’…no one wants to use the smallest pull-up bar. At least my grip wouldn’t slip because of dirt and grime (very gross – but it has happened in the past when I’ve been attempting pull-ups. Not doing – attempting. There is a difference).

I looked at the entourage. They looked back at me. I swear, the gym manager had his finger on the stop watch, ready at the exact moment I started my hang. Better now than never, I thought to myself.

One more last minute flex of my biceps, a brief thought of Nathaniel doing pull-ups flashed across my brain, and I withdrew my foot from the metal ledge, easing my way to the middle of the bar.

“GO!” cried the gym manager.

And then… there I was… just (literally) hanging out.

The first few seconds seemed…okay. Not too bad – dare I say…easy?

I could feel m biceps engage, core muscles contract at the sudden strain of supporting my body weight. I’ve never attempted a flex arm hang – so this was a new feeling for me. So far, so good. I had managed to not 1) slip off the bar in the first :05 seconds and 2) not fall and get a wood-chip lodged in my rear. Yes – it was a great start.

“You’re :12 seconds down! You just passed my mark!” said the gal, still eating her pizza while staring at the stopwatch. “Keep it up!”

“See – I TOLD you were going to do GREAT! You’re just rounding the :20 mark – NO PROBLEM! You are DOING it! I knew you were perfect for this challenge!”

I looked at the stop-watch wielding manager. His legs were spread apart and he was really getting into this flex arm hang thing. “20 seconds?” I asked. “Great – wow – that went by fast. Okay….”

Still hanging…. I thought about planks, about holding my position, about getting down on my aero bars and cranking out a max effort sprint. This is all that was – sustained control over my body. I could do this! I WAS doing this!

“:30 seconds down! GREAT!”

Good feeling gone.

I didn’t want to panic, but I could feel it… a little bit of shaking starting deep within my core. The tone of my voice caught their attention. “How much time?”

“:40 seconds!”

Oh good god.

My arms began to tremble, but I fought to hold on. Stars began to cloud the edges of my vision, and while the thought of drifting away entered my mind, I was way too uncomfortable to enjoy the feeling. My breathing increased to freight-train level. I wasn’t sure how out of control the shaking would get – but I knew it would be ugly. Thank god I didn’t need to pee.

“You are doing SO WELL – I’m not even going to tell you how much time has passed!” Pause. “Okay – You’re at 50 seconds….”

So much for not telling me.

And why the hell is time slowing down? I mean the first twenty seconds had gone by in a snap. And now – well – now I just was more concerned with public urination and deeply embedded woodchips in unpleasant places. It’s all relative, I guess.

“Fifty five seconds!”

And then – before I could help it and as though I had NO control over my arms whatsoever – I could feel myself begin to slip, ever so slightly. It was only a centimeter or two…but my biceps were burning up and sending clear signals to my brain to STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP! Violent shaking was erupting from my legs, and the twitching was downright embarrassing. I could no longer control my breathing, and the gasps escaping from my mouth were alarming. I hoped that my flabby stomach wasn’t too visible through my shirt, and I was grateful I had availed myself of the facilities shortly before this damned contest.

They all took a step forward and exclaimed, “Hang on ! You’re ALMOST there!! Just a little longer to beat the record – keep your chin up! YOU’RE DOING GREAT!! Almost there!”

I think the girl with the pizza was even jumping up and down. But perhaps I was just hallucinating?

But the shaking was getting worse. And their shouts were drawing attention from the gym patrons, curious to see how someone silly enough to enter a felx-arm hang competition was doing. I wanted to yell STOP YELLING – but I was more concerned with the shaking. And lack of breathing - because (to my horror) I was now holding my breath, too much in pain to realize the lack of oxygen was affecting my brain.

I tried to force myself to breath, to find my ‘happy place.’

Trust me when I say – there was no happy place.

But I held on, vaguely aware of the gym manager counting past the 1-minute mark. My immediate focus was to hold on for 1:06 and beat the record of :65 seconds. My brain focused on the number 66. 6-6. 6-6! 6-6!!

Add one more six and you're in hell. If this is what hell feels like - then no thank you. But I've already been there... mile 23 of Ironman Coeur d'Alene when my quads broke down...those final few swim strokes in a 10 X 100 test...2 X 20 minutes at 110% of LT on the bike...rounding the track on my last 400 repeat...

And I got through it then - I can surely HOLD ON for a few more seconds now. I noticed that I was breathing - good.

My legs were violently adopting dancing moves of their own and I gritted my teeth to HOLD ON. It wasn’t pretty, and I know I would never make a poster-child for flex arm hang competitions – but I did it.

As soon as Peppy Gym Manger screamed, “Sixty Six!” I dropped. No – I didn’t land on my ass and thankfully no wood-chips were harmed. But I did it! I surprised myself, and hung on for exactly one second longer than I needed to win the contest.

It was pretty cool – and their enthusiasm was infections, even if my biceps were cramping and I really DID need to use the restroom. I smiled, in spite of myself – already thinking about what I was going to write in my head.

My first words were NOT along the lines of yea! Or yes! Instead I asked, “Is it normal to shake like that?”

The female gym attendant responded that, “Yeah, so far everyone gets like that towards the end.”

Well, there you go. For future flex-arm hang competitions, I will keep that tucked in the back of my head…

After thanking them, and their promises to let me know if I won (I’m SURE YOU DID! YOU DID GREAT!) – I posed for a quick picture and headed home. Yes, my arms hurt to grip the steering wheel, but moreover – I felt really good about myself. Sure, it was only a flex-arm hang competition…but how often do we really get the opportunity (big or small) to challenge ourselves and try something new?

And then I started thinking about those sixty-six seconds. I briefly wondered, had the record been :70 or :75 seconds – could I have held on? And I thought about the incredible mind-body connection that we all have.

When push comes to shove – why limit myself to :66 seconds? Sure, I was shaking and about to pee on myself…and my biceps felt like they were on fire…and my breathing was coming in spurts... But I also know that we are ALL capable of amazing things. And, as so often is the case, when we put our minds towards accomplishing something – from Ironman down to a flex-arm hang competition – we can make it happen. I’m convinced that if the previous record had been higher (within reason, of course), I would have held on JUST enough to eclipse it.

Next time I head to the pool, or set myself up for bike intervals, or run around the track – I’ll remember this challenge. Not so much for the shaking or wood chips or UBER ENTHUSIASTIC gym manager. But for the lessons learned along the way – that when I want to achieve something, I can make it happen. And…to NEVER sell myself short, because at the end of the day – if I want it enough, I’ll definitely go after it.

And you can too.

Part of me wanted to go back and re-test…see how long I REALLY could stay on the bars. But I knew my muscles were completely shot, taxed beyond normal. And I would have to wait for another day. Rest assured – the next time there’s a flex arm hang competition, I am so totally there. With practice and belief, great things can be accomplished. And time-wise, the sky’s the limit…

Image: Weekend events...

2010-05-17T23:12:00.000-07:00

A few bits of my weekend observations...

Image: Ambulance pick-up point just before another part of steep hill.
Image: Cake in the check-out line (NOT where it's supposed to be...)
Image: Trying to pose for a pull-up after winning a flex arm hang competition. The only thing the camera didn't capture was the shaking.
Image: Impossibly difficult music. Insert four-letter-word here:___________!
Image: Haircut and "chemical alterations". I'm convinced it's too short - but then again, I'm always convinced that it's too short at first. So there you go.
Image: Hills on my Sunday run. They were relentless and never-ending. And you'll just have to trust me on that one.

Image: Happy House Monster-
Image: Attentive Anabelle
Image: Breakfast in Carlsbad...in spite of the May Grey (pre haircut...)
Details of the flex-arm hang competition are forthcoming...and pretty funny. But you'll have to trust me on that one as well. Until then - good luck with the hills, we CAN survive the May Grey, and cheers to coffee with loved ones.

Bad Romance, a Capella style

2010-05-13T20:13:00.000-07:00

I was going to write about pink compression socks and the subsequent comments one receives upon walking into Target. Yes, I realize my socks are pink. No, I'm not a soccer player.... And so on, and so forth.

However, thanks to Alili, I thought this was much better. Those of you who really know me, know that I'm a sucker for acoustical performances. Though I've never been a huge fan of a Capella, this ensemble takes the proverbial cake.

Without futher ado, "On the Rocks" - the University of Oregon's premiere a Capella group - performs Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance."

And yes, it's okay to admit that 1) you watched it more than once and 2) you were humming along. I know I was (and did). All while wearing pink compression socks, no less.

Mother's Day Hike

2010-05-10T03:00:00.000-07:00

It wasn't so much the weather (cloudy, windy, blustery) or the incredible yellow wildflowers that caught our attention. It was the difference in color. Within the past six weeks, the hillsides have transformed from vibrant green to golden brown. Case-in-point:

March 2010
May 2010
Proof that there are seasons in California.

We thought about hiking up the "telephone trail" like we did last time, but the rattlesnake threat had me deterred. (We've already seen and heard a few on Villager Peak and one out in Sedona, AZ). Nathaniel just laughed, but as I'm the one who thinks catastrophically I told him that I was sticking to the well-defined trail. And so we went...

Waking up to this guy was great...and you can't help but be enthusiastic to spend the day together...The Breakfast of Champions: Raisin Bran.

The open trail awaits...
Fields of wildflowers (and we're heading towards those power lines!)
There is no place that I'd rather be...here hiking with my special someone...
The view, half way up the cliffs.
We reached the power lines!
AND the trail's end, with a great view of the ocean.
Snack break!
Truly an essential service (because when you gotta go, you gotta go. Especially after eating GORP - Good Old-fashioned Raisins and Peanuts)
Holy Cow! There's a snail attached to that flower! They (snails) were everywhere...
Almost back at the car...looking up.
Palm-tree lined road home.
It's hard to be apart from your loved ones...especially on holidays...and Mother's Day is no exception. I hope that EVERYONE had a wonderful weekend and was fortunate enough to spend it with their loved ones. And...that everyone was smart and avoided rattlesnake threats. Yeah...that one is important as well.

Happy Mother's Day!

2010-05-09T04:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom,

Happy Mother's Day!

We love you! Salute!

Even though Karyna and I live on opposite coasts and can't give you a hug on this very special day...we wanted you to know how special you are.

A few memories...for old time's sake...

-Collecting snails at Como Lake and bringing them home, only to discover they were very very stinky snails.

-Giving Karyna a bath and shaping her hair into various presidential hairpieces of past (George Washington being my favorite) while she played obliviously in the tub. Big sisters have it made (in some ways).

-Red Lobster waitress.

-Jumping on the beds at Suzuki violin camp. Oops - did you know about that?

-We've already discussed the destroyed stair banister that Karyna and I hastily concealed before you or Dad could discover it had been kicked down a flight of stairs. If you look closely, the cocoa-smelling brown marker should still be covering the stripped wood.

-I love how you love Nathaniel.

-And the House Monsters (even though the Big One attacks).

-For teaching me to appreciate plants and flowers and all-things-nature-like... Even though I'm a plant killer... Happily, the fern we bought together is still alive.

I could go on, and on, and on...but I won't I hope you enjoyed the album! I love you!

love,
Maritka

Saturday ride...

2010-05-08T19:30:00.000-07:00

Today's bike ride called for an EASY 75 minute session. Easy. Easy - as in heart rate/watt output zone 1. Easy as in DO NOT under any circumstances exceed higher than zone 1 for a few seconds, like after accelerating from a stop sign. Easy as in, no hills. No problem! Easy, as in - I get to take my camera and take pictures while I ride, because clearly I don't have to focus on xxx watts or yyy heart rate or zz effort - so picture taking should be easy.

Um, did you know that taking pictures while riding is a diminishable skill? Huh? Neither did I, until thirty second into my ride - when I whipped out the camera for something silly/unique/fill-in-the-blank - and nearly crashed my bike. Luckily, disaster was averted - or this would be a MUCH different blog post.

Anyway, here's a bit of what I got to experience...

Even my bike was excited!Raring to go!

Hello I live in California.......and wear flip-flops just about everywhere. I have no idea what I'll do when we leave. On second thought - I do know. I'll continue to wear flip-flops because I love them so.

The road was beckoning...
...And I couldn't help but smile!
Yes, yes, yes - I'm sticking to my heart rate!Sheesh - sometimes I feel like my coach has eyes everywhere.

You know what?In the time I've lived here, I never realized there was a windmill. Sometimes taking the time to really absorb our surroundings is worth the effort. Who knew?

The fields are already turning dusty and golden in color.
I think I recognize that shadow...
Palm trees and (slightly) greener fields on a different part of base.
I thought this sign was interesting. What the heck is an LCAC?When I got home, Nathaniel proceeded to explain...although he used lots of military jargon. I will translate: It's a really cool Landing Craft Air Cushion vehicle that can navigate about 70% of the world's coastlines, carries a crew of 5, and is really loud. Oh - and he would like to try piloting one someday. I told him to stick with helicopters and the Carolla.

Hello, I live in California...And there is seismic activity.

Hillside wildflowers.Pretty soon the brown grass will take over everything. But for now, the fields of flowers are breathtaking.

Mike TERF area.I think I know where Nathaniel and I are hiking tomorrow...

Sometimes I just get so happy and excited, that I can't help it.I love to ride my bike...

My view --And near wipe-out! The things we do to get the 'perfect' angle...

I like signs like these - it makes me happy.You know...it doesn't matter one's political affiliation or foreign policy ideals. We can (and should) all thank those who serve or have served in the military. And their families - who also deal with a lot more than what most realize. There is no gray-in-between for me.

Me and the bike.Done for the day - surviving the ride upright, intact, without flats, on the same page, happy....

Jen Harrison bottle, brought to you by Jen Harrison!The best coach. Ever.

The Motherload.I would look like a loaded mother, if I ate it all though.

Post ride fuel!Now if only Powerbar had their own sushi line....now we're talking...logistically that would be kind of hard, though. And potentially really gross. Not going there - ho hum.

Happy Saturday to all!!!

It was so beautiful...

2010-05-06T22:39:00.000-07:00

...That I just couldn't help myself. While driving home from the post office (Mother's Day "stuff" - mailed...phew!), I got the itch to take a few pictures. I had already experienced a fantastic run (where I regretted not carrying my camera) along the coast earlier in the day, and with one glance at the sparkling blue waters - I was sold.

Thirty minutes later, I was coasting home, in effort to prepare for the next round of concerts. Britten's "War Requiem" calls. I won't lie - its a bit, um, grim (as most War Requiems tend to be). But I needed to get those tricky passages under control, lest I play the wrong notes. Again. Luckily, for this concert - there are so many different parts and various players, so that my own interpretive notes won't be as apparent.

But let's not think about that... imagine yourself on a beach... somewhere in Southern California...

(((dream-like music...most likely harp)))

Carlsbad beaches
Waiting for the train.Even though my Dad doesn't live here, I'm pretty certain he knows the daily schedule.

Doesn't that water look tempting?You still won't get me in there. Teeming with, well - you know.

Coastal Highway and Power Plant
Couldn't have said it better than this:
I just had to stop the car... Cliffs from Carlsbad looking to Encinitas
I swear - the wind blew the exact moment the shutter clicked.
On days like these, I'm really happy to be living out here...
Back in the car, headed home...And bike lanes everywhere. Another reason why I love living out here.

Speaking of bike lanes...wow...this hill just keeps going and going and going. And going.Yes - my unexpected detour from yesterday. The easy part.

Flower Carpet.
Trees on El Camino Real.
Succulents! They are SUCH interesting plants!For Nathaniel - whose odd fascination continues to grow (just like the succulents).

Light, CA traffic.
And later on...(because pictures are fun)...

Bison Stir Fry...mmmmmAnd I can promise that Nathaniel was happy because there was NO TOFU in sight.

Dos Amigos for Dos Amigos?Perfect!

Unexpected Detour

2010-05-05T18:53:00.000-07:00

I knew it was too good to be true... Any decent as steep and long as the one I was on was bound to be met with a giant uphill further on up the road. I was not to be disappointed.

Getting back into the swing of training has been mostly great. Although I'm constantly checking my body - making sure that I'm not (in any way) overextending myself. The fear of relapse is still there - and in all honesty I think (as with anyone who has battled illness) this is pretty normal. My doctor said to, "take it easy." And it would probably behoove me to stick with zone 1 and low zone 2 intensity.

Not a problem.

For the most part, I'm happy to be doing simple things - running 30 minutes for the sake of running 30 minutes, enjoying a leisurely ride down the coast to Encinitas and back, or lifting weights in the gym while trying to hold back giggles when I see an overzealous person attempt to lift an impossibly heavy stack of weights and not moving it an inch.

It. Didn't. Budge. Period.

I mean the guy was relentless - I've got to give him that. Tenacity, determination, guts, will - all adjectives I would use to describe him. Smart, on the other hand, did not cross my mind. When I left he was still scratching his head.

Today's workout presented a new challenge: it was longer than one hour. Yeah! - you read that right. I had a whopping 75 minute "rolling hill" bike ride on the schedule. Last year I wouldn't have batted an eyelash - I think training for Ironman permanently alters one's idea of "long" vs "really really long." In the end it's all perspective and that varies from one individual to another.

Still, 75 minutes was 75 minutes - nothing to sneeze at. And I was definitely going to milk it for all it was worth - rolling hills and all.

And that's where this thing gets interesting.

I planned a route along El Camino (up and down the rolling "hills" which to my poor and out-of-shape body felt like mountains), up Palomar Airport Road and then...well - you see I was supposed to take a right when I saw Trader Joe's and make my way towards San Elijo Hills.

In a perfect world, that would have happened.

About :30 into my ill-fated venture down El Fuerte Road, I realized (that in my excited state at cresting the top of Palomar Airport Road), I had turned a stoplight too early. Oops. I never was great at directions. I quickly pushed the thought aside and enjoyed the ride down.

Down, down, down, ddddoooowwwwwnnnnnn! Weeeeeeeeeee!

Half way - while reaching high speeds and braking at the same time, I really began to enjoy myself. I figured getting "lost" wasn't so bad, and that in this grand scheme of life, sometimes we just need to go out and explore...get a little lost in order to find myself. This road had to come out somewhere, and who knew? Maybe I had discovered a great new bike route!

I was very proud of myself for my improved attitude.

But reality doesn't care about newfound ideals or attitudes and, truthfully: what goes down, usually goes back up again. Spoiler Alert: Reality check is about to become VERY real.

Good feelings vanished when I saw the BIGGEST HILL IN CARLSBAD that I have EVER EVER EVER seen. One would think - from a small California coastal community - the hills wouldn't be that bad. You would be wrong.

I don't recall too much about the next few moments. There was some cursing and panicked backpedaling. But who were we kidding? - I had just descended the second biggest hill in Carlsbad heading towards the BIGGEST hill in Carlsbad, and I was not about to turn around from a dead stop and attempt to climb the one I had just ridden down. No thank you. At least (fingers crossed) my momentum would carry me 100 feet or so, up the wall ahead.

Cue: laughter.

I vividly recall - in eerie clarity - looking down at my cassette and thinking that I didn't have enough gears to climb the thing. That's a really scary thought. Visions of rolling backwards or going postal flashed through my mind and suddenly my 12-25 seemed totally incapable of doing the job...and I longed for a triple big ring. Seriously.

But before I could stop myself or deviate from my course, I sailed through the light at Poinsettia and started climbing. For those of you wondering - there was no coasting, no "easy" bit. Instead, the climb went from steep to VERY VERY VERY steep.

200 meters (or so) ahead, I noticed a giant manhole cover, and after that the pitch of the road went to an alarming gradient and curved out of sight.

Its never a good thing when you can't see the top and the road gets steeper. I've climbed enough hills to know this simple truth.

I quickly shifted my gears, and put myself in the 21... I wanted to use the 23 when it got VERY VERY STEEP and the 25 only as a last minute "I-think-I'm-about-to-collapse-and-won't-make-it" move. Which was really funny, because I was shifting up to the 25 just after the manhole cover.

So much for saving my "emergency" gear.

And then, well...then it got hard. I suffered.

I don't remember working that hard on a bike - ever. And I've done some pretty serious climbing around here...but this, during only my second ride since recovering from pneumonia and ??? was just stupid.

I could feel the panic set in, and I thought about getting off my bike and pushing it up the hill. I've only done that twice before (but it was on the same hill in South Carolina so it only counts as once- 25% grade for 2 miles...I made it through the "birthing canal" section...the "fallopian tubes" part got to me. But I made it (eventually) and didn't fall over the edge in the process....). And yes - it was painful.

I couldn't be sure - but this hill in Carlsbad felt just as bad (even though the gradient probably wasn't even half of what I did in SC). But that had more to do with my physical state than anything else. The WILL was there - just the body didn't want to follow.

Foot by foot, pedal stroke by pedal stroke though - I crept forward. I couldn't swear it - but I think both the owner and the dog walking down the hill just before the half way mark, felt sorry for me. You know it's really bad when dogs give you mournful looks. Sweat streamed down my face, searing my eyes, and I could feel my hands clenching my drops with as much force necessary to keep me moving up. My palms ached with the force of holding myself upright in effort to turn the pedals over.

And from there - I just. Kept. Moving. Painful. Inch. By. Painful. Inch.

I flashed back to the weight lifter who refused to stop trying to lift his load, and it suddenly hit me that we weren't so different after all. And that all the same adjectives applied to myself. But darn it, I was (I hoped) 2/3 of the way up the hill and I wasn't about to get off my bike and walk.

And that's when it happened: its like my legs and arms adopted minds of their own, and suddenly - and without any idea of what/why/how - I was turning into a "flattish" side-street. I think my body was trying to send my mind a message: we need a break. Yes, we will get to the top. But we won't get there if we don't have a chance to spin easy for :30 or :40...

I rode past two houses and without getting off my bike, circled back around to El Fuerte and continued up the hill. The break was wonderful - the brief respite from the hill from hell - and I was rewarded with a stoplight sign a block or two ahead. From previous experience, I surmised that the stoplight was the end to the climb...and I counted pedal strokes until I reached the top.

All 139 of them.

And before I knew it - I was done. I had finished - a quick glance behind me was NOT rewarded with the sparkling ocean or even the mountain I had just climbed. Instead - I saw a few houses and then a curving road and....lots of trees. Sheesh - for all that work, I was expecting to see the Lhotse Face off in the distance. Or something magnificent...not just any other city block.

The rest of my ride went well - every "hill" seemed (thankfully) small by comparison, and I took my time getting to the top of each one. Eventually I made my way down La Costa and to the coastal highway. The tailwind push home was unexpected - but very welcomed.

What did I take away?

Well - first thing, that my will still works - and that if I want to get something done, I'll do it. But also, that my body instinctively knows its own limits...I just need to make sure we're all on the same page. Its okay to ease up, admit that THIS IS HARD - as long as we keep going and give it our best effort.

Doing the little things, on a daily basis - be it pushing through to the very end of those sprint 100s in swimming, maintaining your form during a long run when you want to hunch over, taking the time to stretch and properly recover, or reaching the top of a tough climb when you weren't sure you could do it (but kept going anyway) - make all the difference.

But even more important, is that taking life's unexpected detours can be kind of fun, exciting, and at the end of the day - sometimes it's those moments that bring us the greatest rewards.

Dances with Anabelle (and other good stuff)

2010-05-02T12:46:00.000-07:00

Perhaps if Tabbitha did a little more of this...

And a little less of this...She could PLAY with the purple string instead of sitting on it. Or eating it.But that's our House Monster for you. And I wouldn't change anything about her (except for the part where she attacks our friends. That's always awkward.)

In other exciting news... I spent half the weekend under the Bright Lights of stage. Trust me when I say it gets HOT. And I'm not the only one wiping my brow...

I had the chance to take a few photos during Friday's Dress Rehearsal/free concert. No - they weren't all the shots I was aiming for...but as I don't want to make myself stick out TOO much, lest I play during the quiet time. Again.

There's nothing like earning the conductor's glare when you're the only one playing during Mozart's 41st Symphony (and you're supposed to be quiet). Boy, the acoustics in the auditorium sure do echo loudly. Luckily I sit in the back - so I can either 1) blame it on someone else or 2) blame it on the violas (my usual routine.)

And in other VERY exciting news, I've been given the green light to start very very light light light training. Friday's run was wonderful. Saturday's strength and core session was WONDERFUL. Sunday's easy bike spin was WONDERFUL.

Can you sense a theme?

After everything that I've gone through health-wise, I'm not taking anything - not one single thing - for granted. Its easy to not think about health and happiness when we're, um, healthy and happy. But its different when we struggle with illness after illness, never sure when we'll be back to our usual self.

And in celebration of my first bike ride in XX days, I splurged on a GIANT cup of coffee from Starbucks. Thanks Mom for the Christmas Starbucks Card - I finally used it and BOY...you really did put a lot of money on that thing. I'll definitely be using it in the future after fun rides...
Most of the coffee made it home - for which I was again, happy. I never claimed to have great bike handling skills, especially after the break from training. Besides, I hit a few speed bumps on the way. Literally. And boy - let me tell you, hot coffee on your derriere feels strangely akin to a bee-sing on the derriere (which I've also experienced). Proof that I didn't spill it all...
Another concert today, followed by sushi for dinner (we must celebrate) and wine (we must celebrate). And perhaps the latest Amazing Race with a special someone...

Congratulations to ALL who raced this weekend!

PS - My "partner" during core work. Ever felt like you were being watched?Let's just say I'm not winning any staring contests any time soon.

The Honest Post

2010-04-28T22:50:00.001-07:00

Sometimes you just need to do things that make you smile. Thanks to Maria for tagging me a few days ago. The mission: 10 honest things about myself. So, without further ado - here we go...

(In no particular order...)

10. Even though I love Ghost Hunters, I can't watch the show if I'm alone in the house. Well - the kitties are here - but they don't really count, because they don't offer protection of any sort. If Nathaniel has a late flight, I won't watch...but if he's here, I'm fascinated.

9. I don't like diet pepsi - at all. And...if I order a diet coke in a restaurant and they only serve pepsi products, I'll stick with water. There is a difference.

8. Sometimes I hate Nathaniel's job.

7. I used to put antiperspirant on my hands before solo violin performances, because I would get soooo sweaty that my fingers would slip. Playing in an orchestra is different and (thankfully) I'm not nearly as sweaty. Instead my sweaty-hands appear when I rock climb; I go through bags upon bags of chalk because I have a (slight) fear of rock walls (but love climbing). Humph.

6. I'm highly annoyed at the Southern California weather-forecasters. AND, in general - the local idea of how "horrible" the weather is. Cry me a river. Until you've had your nostrils freeze while inhaling in sub zero Minnesota temperatures, or nearly been struck by lighting while biking during one of the daily pop-up Florida thunderstorms, then zip it. And I'm speaking from experience.

5. You won't get me into the ocean unless a) I'm racing b) someone needs help and I'm the only one available to offer assistance. Yes, I'm afraid of sharks. And yes - its been a lifelong fear...my parents claim that my three-year-old younger self was afraid of sharks coming up through the drain. Woa. That's quite the imagination.

4. I could eat sushi every day, but I don't. Instead, its something like 2 or 3 times per week. Honestly.

3. I've read all four books in the 'Twilight' series, and I'm ashamed... I had to pretend that I was buying book #4 for someone else as a gift. I don't think the sales clerk believed me.

2. I miss training a lot more than I thought I would. I would give just about anything to go out for a run and feel the way that I used to. But I'm determined to have my body in a more "normal" state of being/health, before adding training stress. In the meantime...I wait...and wait...and wait...

1. 80s music is the WORST. Ugh. For real...I don't even feel bad about offending anyone with that statement - because it's true.

Today was a better day than yesterday - along with violin, I found solace in cleaning and organizing the kitchen. I donated 8+ bags of old cooking pots and pans, cutlery, and just "stuff". It was very refreshing - a nice change. I might just attack my closet next... we'll see. Regardless, while I sort - you all know what kind of music I WON'T be listening to.

I'm still waiting for that sun!

The Early May Grey

2010-04-27T16:47:00.000-07:00

It's not always sunny in San Diego. We are now approaching the weather phenomenon of "May Grey" and "June Gloom". It's a time where the Marine layer covers the coastal communities with a thick layer of fog and gloom.

For me this year, the May Grey has arrived early. I knew it was coming, had expected its arrival. But it's still a shock to wake up one day and realize that the sun was gone.

Perhaps it's my mood in general, though. This year is so different from last; health-wise, training-wise, work-wise. Things are definitely changing - not for the better or worse. But still changing. And while I'm doing the best I can to go with the flow and use the tools that I have - sometimes, you just hate the May Grey.

And yes, hate is a strong word. But apparently it's how I feel about May Grey right now, so I'm going to use it.

But all hope is not lost, and just because the forecast calls for a little fog for an undefined amount of time - it doesn't mean the sun has disappeared entirely. We just can't see it - but we know it's still there, sending its shining rays across blue skies. Trust me when I say that I'm definitely looking forward to seeing the sun again.

And not that I condone drinking on a weekday before 5 pm, but sometimes all you need is a cold brew with a great friend. Yes - this was part of our Monday afternoon, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Take that May Grey!

For what its worth - tomorrow I'll look for sunshine. But today, I'm feeling pretty yucky. Nothing that a good rehearsal and/or batch of Swedish Fish can't help...but I'm still missing my sun.

As far from triathlon as possible. Seriously.

2010-04-25T23:11:00.002-07:00

The first half of the weekend was spent doing stuff like this:

And it was FANTASTIC!

The second part...well... Nathaniel spent much of it prepping for upcoming flights, while I prepared for an audition. Because the symphony will be out of session for two months in the summer, I'm working towards earning my Suzuki Music Teaching Certificate (with an emphasis on violin). Yea! Part of this involves an audition DVD.

Oh. Shit.

Don't laugh. But... It only took six completed performances and 40+ incomplete takes for me to pick the as-close-to-perfect-without-being-too-OCD "right" one. In the end I picked rendition # 3. But I still had a good time in the process.

And I can safely say that Nathaniel can now whistle (from memory) the first movement of Bach's A minor violin concerto. Including the trills. Luckily, my neighbors are saints (or currently out of town).

No word on re-re-re-re starting training, though I'm hoping for sometime next week. In the meantime, I'll keep practicing, prepping for next weekend's performances, hiking with Nathaniel, and poking fun of him for the massive amounts of gear he takes with him on each flight. For real: it makes my transition bag look like, um... well - very lightweight. (Which is pretty pathetic if you ask me...)

Congratulations to all the people who raced this weekend! WOO HOO - great job! I had fun watching the results roll in, even if I couldn't be out there training or racing. Soon....when the time is right....

The Nathaniel Massage Saga.

2010-04-22T23:16:00.000-07:00

It started off innocently enough. But you know it was an interesting night when your husband is passed out next to you, smelling of kukui nut body cream, with a bag of frozen peas precipitously placed over his hamstring.

And no - this is not an R17 post.

During dinner (bison stir fry - lest you were wondering), Nathaniel mentioned tight hamstrings. (Is it awful to admit - that got my attention?) It wasn't bad, he claimed, but his left one in particular had been bothering him all day and he couldn't quite figure out why.

Now in case you were wondering, in the past I've been the Queen of Tight Hamstrings. Seriously. From 2006 through my bike crash in 2008, I dealt with near-constant tightness (but those were mostly the pre-Jen Harrison days when my old coach had me do crazy workouts with crazier amounts of intensity). Those fast-twitch fibers were aggravated, agitated and I began every run with a few timid, precautionary steps.

You know the kind... The I'm not sure if my muscle will work, but I really hope it does because I've got an important track workout in prep for my AAAA+++ priority race just around the corner....please pretty please work without pain or any niggles. (And if you could help me to run :30 per mile faster on my 10k, that would be SUPER.)

Inevitably, my hamstring would seize up, my IT band would revolt and I would writhe in pain on the table while my old massage therapist cracked her knuckles and asked, "Does this hurt?"

Yes. Yes it does hurt.

But through these uber-painful (but effective) massage sessions, I learned A LOT about how the body works, why the muscles feel the way they do, and - most importantly - how to alleviate the tightness/pain.

For the most part, a tennis ball, massage oil and sheer will will get the most stubborn of knots out. Unfortunately, my will isn't that strong, and I'll be the first to book a return trip to the massage therapist to fix what I've so foolishly done.

That being said... I've never been given the opportunity to practice what I've learned through my own painful sessions. Until tonight.

Later on in bed, things got a little more serious. Somewhere between Housewives of NY (yes, I'm ashamed, and no he wasn't watching) and the local news, he suddenly gasped, wrenched the covers up, and vigorously started rubbing his hamstring. Its one thing if YOU yourself are in pain - I can deal with my own stuff...I've dealt with it (in my own capacity) all of my life. But its another thing to see someone else suffering.

Especially when its your husband and he's making what could otherwise be construed as rude gestures under the covers.

So I did the best thing that any wife-who-has-had-previous-hamstring-issues could do. I asked if he wanted a massage.

The look he gave me was classic - The 'This-isn't-happening-but-okay-because-I-love-you - look (as though I was the one getting a treat because I was giving it to him. Humph - men). And then he groaned and rolled over. With his left leg up in the air.

Clearly, the boy has never been to a masseuse.

I told him to lie face-down, head over his side of the bed, with his feet over my end. He looked at me, rubbed the hamstring, and slowly obliged.

Oh boy. We hadn't even gotten to the clothes-removal part - but I wasn't about to tell him now before I started. And yes - I promise this is (mostly) child appropriate. Except for the hairy butt - but that comes later.

I told him to get settled, to relax, and that I was going to take a few investigatory pokes and prods around his hamstring area - just to get a better idea of where it hurt. For which I received (yet another) glare. I swear that he shook his head, but settled down. I was, after all, doing him the favor.

After I few strokes, I noticed his leg tense up and twitch. Overall he was doing a good job, not jumping at every touch. A few more strokes later though, and tense twitch tense twitch tense tense twitch! And then I realized the problems. 1) Leg hair = friction and 2) boxer shorts.

I knew this would be a delicate subject, after all Nathaniel isn't really the nudist type (especially while sporting clothes on the top while his wife massages his leg). And the boy certainly doesn't use body lotions of any sort (even though he complains of dry skin, yet refuses to come within ten feet of ANY sort of topical remedy)... But I knew that in order the get the most effective massage possible, these steps would be necessary.

I took a deep breath and composed myself to the best of my ability. Yes, I have a problem with laughter at the most inappropriate of moments - and one crack, one chuckle - hell, one smile - and all bets were off.

"Um...Nathaniel?"

Grunt.

I took that as a sign to proceed.

"Sweetheart? You know - its a little hard to work around your boxer shorts. You know...most massage therapy clients don't wear clothes...the therapist uses sheets to tastefully cover up body parts..."

No response. But he was still breathing; I could see the rise and fall of his back. I knew he was listening.

So I continued.

"Anyway. Listen - I need to flush your hamstring, and that requires my ability to work around your glutes. And for that - it would be, um, better if you removed your shorts."

He raised his eyebrow and I could see the wheels turning.

"But don't worry -" I continued. "I won't try anything. Here, let me get a towel so you can cover yourself up."

And yes, I averted my eyes as he changed (what IS it about guys and getting naked? Seriously - they have NO problem, absolutely none dropping their drawers to do their business. And yes, I realize I just spent a week hiking throughout Northern Arizona - but still...At the first talk of nudist stuff or spa-environments - all bets are off), and then tastefully arranged the towel so I could only see the left butt cheek.

Okay - so the naked part was easy.

The kukui nut body lotion would be a tougher sell. I had to think here...strategy would be my friend. I knew that he felt uncomfortable without any oil, given the amount of tensing and twitching going on with each flushing stroke. I couldn't swear it, but I thought he might be able to crack a walnut between those cheeks. But HE just didn't realize that his leg hair being pulled with each flushing-motion, was the culprit...Maybe if I just applied it without warning? Then he would be stuck -

Its not like he was going anywhere...

Luckily I keep my alba lotions on the bedside table, so they were within easy reach. Goody.

"What are you doing?" he sensed something was amiss.

I had seconds before the smell and the realization combined to hit my husband full force, so without further ado, dropped the entire blob in the middle of his hamstring.

There was a definite twitch. But he said nothing.

Gradually I started massaging his leg, flushing up towards the glues and mimicking what I had felt Shelly and Lisa (past and present) massage therapists do.Thankfully the lotion was helping and I didn't get any comments from the Peanut Gallery. After a few minutes - when his muscle had relaxed a bit and I figured it was ready for the deeper tissue stuff - I applied more pressure.

VISIBLE TWITCH.

Oops.

Okay - too much pressure.

I told him to relax, to breath, and that I would make it all go away.

And yes, I realize that numerous Hollywood films have started - or ended - with similar sentiment.

...And we continued....

In the beginning it wasn't too bad. Just a few more flinches while I worked away. And though I've been married for nearly seven years, there were bits of Nathaniel that I saw for the first time tonight. It made me realize that I should never ever ever have Nathaniel work out knots in my hamstring and tissue flush into my glute.

And I will always hire a professional (who isn't married to me). There are just some things I don't want my Other Half to see or be aware of. I really didn't mind working on him. I just didn't want him to see me! Heck, I don't even like the back of my legs right now - especially since its been, um, well - when was the last time I ran?

With every flush up into the glutes, he seemed to tense more and more. I guess, though, he's just never had the pleasure of his wife rubbing his butt cheeks with kukui nut body cream - enough to make even the manliest of men cringe.

Things reached a peak though, when I pushed my palm into his IT band and slowly worked up his leg. Inch by painful inch, I could hear his muffled gasps. And in spite of my calming words and soothing voice - he was having a hard time maintaining composure. At that point, I think anyone would.

I knew that I was working on borrowed time - so I skipped straight to the Active Release Therapy. For those of you who have not yet had the pleasure of ART, let my paraphrase: During one session last year, I told my therapist I would rather be giving birth than getting ART.

Luckily Nathaniel didn't know this.

I told him to bend his knee and that everything would be okay. For which I (naturally) earned another glare. But the poor guy was helpless. Half naked, with a towel covering one butt cheek, and smelling like a pina colada. So he bent his knee.

What followed was a series of strokes that I cannot bear to repeat. There was also swearing, visible flinching, and I think I may have drawn a tear (his not mine). I can't be sure. Suffice to say, Nathaniel wasn't a fan of the ART.

At that point, I felt really really sorry for the guy. I finished up with a few easy rubs and tried to make him relax sans deep tissue strokes. It wasn't happening. Instead he had turned over, completely disregarding his lack of clothing, and proceeded to tell me that I was done. D.O.N.E

(But miraculously, his hamstring was feeling not-as-tight).

I took this as a good sign and told him he should probably ice the area, and that it might be a little sore...um...in the morning. And that ice would definitely help. What else could he do but agree? I had already removed his shorts, covered his leg in smelly body lotion - a little ice would be the least of his woes.

And that, my friends - was our night. But don't worry, I won't quit my day job. Massage therapy was never really my thing...unless I was trying to relieve my own tight body parts. At this rate, I would give just about anything for a long run, speed session, 5k or hell - a short run of any sort.

And who knows? Perhaps I will have to call upon the Nathaniel Massage card one of these days. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for sooner rather than later. Better yet, I'll have my massage therapist at the ready. Yeah, that sounds better. And better for our marriage as well.

Little has changed...

2010-04-20T22:34:00.001-07:00

I've always been a cat-person at heart. And here's the proof that we've always had House Monsters, no matter my age. (Yes, I'm a natural blond even if I need chemical help as an adult. No, I didn't cut my own hair. Yes - behind me is one of the many beautiful gardens that my Mom has planted. And ABSOLUTELY - Perounka was the most docile cat ever. Sure my "hug" looked more like a death-grip, but I was young and enthusiastic and wanted to "love" the kitty).

In other news, we're back in California - back to work, life, violin practice, flying, and no training (in my case). As difficult as it is, I've decided to wait until I finish the medication completely before (re) re-starting training. Again. Which means that in another ten days (perhaps) my body will be ready.

EVERYONE GO KNOCK ON WOOD RIGHT NOW!

How many times can one restart something?

If this was cat-lives, I think I'm somewhere on my sixth life - but not quite that dramatic. Obviously.

But hey, I'm doing the best that I can with the tools that I have. Going with the flow, coping, learning, surviving - and building up massive amounts of energy that I'm SO ready to unleash on short-course races. Oh yea. And doing my best to have fun in the process - triathlon training/racing or not.

Soon enough, my friends, soon enough.

But in the meantime, it was quite the shock to return from Flagstaff to Carlsbad. And because I like making lists...I've made another one. Goody! Here we go...

10) The daytime highs in Flagstaff are nearly the same as in Carlsbad. I hope you Flagstaff people feel good about that...

9) Walking up a flight of stairs in Flagstaff (at 7,000+ feet) left me breathless at first. Walking up a flight of stairs in Carlsbad still leaves me, um...breathless.

8) When you bring condiments (mustard!) from sea level to higher elevations - STAND BACK when opening. Trust me. Although to some, the spatter patterns could make interesting art work... Mustard on Canvass...? Has a nice, ring, eh?

7) The second violin part in Mozart's 40th and 41st Symphonies gets exponentially more difficult for every rehearsal you miss. I had one of my "not-supposed-to-play-solo-but-I-make-a-mistake-and-play-loud-anyway" moments again. Luckily - to anyone else listening, I could have passed my mistake off on one of the violas. Unfortunately, none were sitting near my person. Oops.

6) The lack of oxygen at Flagstaff and Northern Arizona levels prompted Nathaniel and I to download the April 2nd version of "The Soup" with Joel McHale. I wanted to show him the "clip of the week" and he just wanted to laugh (after 8+ hours in the car). It was funnier the second time and we both laughed. A lot.

5) Nathaniel will be extremely busy with flying for a while, and I'm trying my best to not think about it. But as with anything in life, the more I try to keep my mind off the subject, the more difficult it becomes to focus away from what I'm trying to NOT think about in the first place. Does that make sense? So instead I think about one of my favorite quotes by French novelist and playwright, H. de Balzac, "Our greatest fears lie in anticipation..."

4) The same quote also applies to my health. Right now I'm just waiting...and doing my best to be healthy...thinking healthy thoughts...doing healthy things...And just waiting for the medicine to work and take the next round of blood tests. Waiting, wondering, wanting, and wishing...

3) I'm amazed at what a BIG deal the local (Southern California) weather-people make about "storms" that "blow through" our area. All .02 of an inch of rain the other night...(I'm NOT kidding). There was more snow on the ground in Flagstaff and at the higher elevations than anything San Diego will ever see. Ever. IT'S JUST A LITTLE RAIN! I'm getting a bit tired of the frenzy that our local forecasters get into at the first sign of rain. Seriously. Move to Chicago and then get back to me...

2) I spent about :02 seconds contemplating a summer job as an Ocean Lifeguard. The Symphony will be out of session, and I've spent so many years life guarding through high school and college, that it could be possible. Then I realized how DEATHLY AFRAID OF SHARKS I am, and quickly squashed the thought.

1) Its been over a week since we've had stir fry of ANY sort. Woa... I think I know what's up for dinner tomorrow or Thursday...

And for now, my friends - that's it. Elevation + impromptu solos + Mustard Art + big ocean animals + not-so-scary "wet" weather + House Monsters old and young... Cheers!

The Grand, Grand Canyon.

2010-04-15T22:13:00.001-07:00

Well - we did it. And unfortunately, we only spent one day cruising around the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. After no less than five minutes, Nathaniel and I were already planning our hiking/rafting/camping/future-adventures at this magical place.

Words don't do this place justice - and neither (I'm afraid) - do photographs. Its pretty amazing to think of the powers that formed this canyon. One determined river and oodles of time. It makes you realize that there are so many other things at work, in progress, and it makes our own existence seem small by comparison.

Tomorrow we're heading to Sedona - vortex sights and all. But for now, here are a few shots of the day. Some are the "typical" Grand Canyon money-makers. Others are a little off the beaten path. Enjoy!

It seemed almost unbelievable - that the Grand Canyon was a mere 10 miles away...
Getting closer....The Little Colorado River.
We made it! We took the little-used Eastern Park entrance, near Desert View. The drive was easy, the crowds non-existent (compared to the masses of people at the South Rim Visitor's Center), and view was spectacular. In the future, we'd like to time it right and see the setting sun...but that's for another trip.
We are here! With the canyon!!
First point at Desert View and...Hey! There's snow! And...it's....cold! Officially 27 degrees this morning.
Butte, looking towards the Little Colorado River - Desert View.
He assured me that he wouldn't jump. But that this was almost like a helicopter view.
The colors were incredible - in spite of the slight haze. Somewhere along the South Rim Drive. This photo is unfiltered, while the picture at the top of the page is.
On the ledge.
Wildlife was everywhere!
Here too....
All around!
All enjoying the view...
On a (sort-of) different note...they are everywhere.
Seriously.
Close-up.
Far away.
No backing up for me...
At Yavapi Point, there was a great device one could angle to view named peaks (or buttes!) in the distance.
The sheer ledges were incredible. The North Rim is technically higher in elevation at 8,000+ feet - but the sheer face of the South Rim is much steeper than its northern counterpart.
Unfiltered...
Filtered...
Twisted and weathered wood - exposed at 7,000+ feet.
Outside....
Inside...
Playing around with the camera (not too near the edge) and finding inspiration.
At the Visitor's Center as well!
Desert View, 7438 feet above sea level.