Well that was a crazy run

I'm pretty convinced someone didn't want me to run today. It's so humid outside that I started sweating just walking out the door. Plus, the air is really heavy with the sweet smells of summer blooms. My throat immediately went raw and started closing up. Gotta love allergies. Those two things together made it nearly impossible to breathe through the run. As if that wasn't enough, around 20-21 minutes in, I got a sharp pain in my knee that almost sent me to the ground. I stopped the immediate "no, no, no!" and stayed calm. I walked, tried to get an idea of what was going on, worked out the kink, started to gingerly run again, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was fine. Probably just a crazy nerve response. But - right after I managed to avert that crisis and got back into a good groove running, I got attacked by a dog. I'm fine. Thankfully the owner's reflexes along with my own quick reflex response prevented the dog from being able to clamp down, but he did hit me going full throttle with open jaws. I'm sure it's going to leave a lovely bruise. The owners were so apologetic. They honestly didn't see me coming because they were behind a giant bush talking, and I didn't see the dog until it was mid-air. Scary - but thankfully everything ended okay. I was almost afraid to keep running at that point. Seriously. I was waiting on a tree limb to fall or car to hit me or something. It was crazy. But I did finish 4 miles and did them in pretty decent time. I didn't go the 5-6 I'd hoped to - but I just didn't have it in me. I'm happy with 4 good ones, despite the craziness.

ONE WEEK!

One week from right this moment, my feet will be at the starting line for the Rock Tahoe Half!! And... I'm READY!

I read back over some of my earlier blogs this morning. It's been quite a journey here, hasn't it? From not being able to run a single mile in early January, to already having gone 11 and knowing I can do 13 next week - it's amazing. The frustrations, obstacles, challenges and speed bumps have made me stronger and built my confidence. The highs and PRs have kept me motivated and encouraged. The not-so-great days have kept me humble. It's all come together and I have almost made it full circle back to Tahoe where it ended 19 months ago. I'm so glad that wasn't a final ending. Just an ending to that chapter. January was the beginning of a new chapter. My story isn't over. It won't be over after Rock Tahoe either. I may not ever do another half after this, but I'm not done running, and I'm not finished yet. I have more goals to work towards and things I want to accomplish. These 5 1/2 months are definitely going to be a part of the highlight reel, but they are, in the bigger picture, just a small scene.

It has not been perfect - but I could not have had a better coach during this 5 1/2 months. I can honestly say there is not another person on this entire planet that I would want to have as my coach. I know I haven't been the easiest person to work with, we've had plenty of moments where I wondered if we were on the same page, and there were plenty of days he was probably ready to bail, but the patience he has shown, and the guidance he has given have pushed me to accomplish things that I never imagined. His constant encouragement and support, both with running and life in general, have been an immeasurable part of the success of these past 5 1/2 months. Through every doctor appointment, injury, illness, frustration, doubt and meltdown, he has been a rock. He never wavered, always had a smile, always had some positive words, and always found a way to make me laugh, and somehow in the process managed to make me run faster and go further than I thought I could. There are no words to thank him enough. I hope this is just the beginning of a long coach-athlete relationship, and just the first of many successes and accomplishments we can share. I seriously cannot put into words everything I want to say and I just hope he knows how much I appreciate him and how thankful I am to be able to call him my coach.

My doctors have, for the most part, been amazing too. There were a few hiccups along the way, but they are as excited and encouraged about my success as a runner as I am. They are thrilled that I am getting better and seem to be progressing against all odds medically, and they have shown they care about me as a person, and not just a patient. I hope and pray that the trend continues and that, as much as I like them, I don't have to see any of them until lab work in November.

My FS teammates have been an incredible part of this journey. From Wednesday night group run, to Tuesday/Friday morning workouts, to muddy runs in the rain, to random texts and messages on Facebook, to high-fives at races, to spur-of-the-moment outings - it's been so much FUN. I have never enjoyed running as much as I do with this group of people. We laugh together, run together, sweat together, do hard stuff together, and push each other every week. I'm so glad my coach dragged me to the group run a couple of months ago. I can't imagine this journey without this crazy mix of teammates.

My other teammates have been such a huge part of this too. It may be our final year of CareRunners, but what a year we are making it! We've had so many medical scares and hospitalizations and injuries - but we've all pushed through it all together. The phone calls and emails checking in at the perfect time, the shared tears and frustrations, the huge hugs and encouraging smiles - Kara would have been so proud to have this group as her team. We accomplished what we set out to do. I know it's time to move on and we're all heading in different directions - but I also know these friendships will last forever, and these wonderful memories will last a lifetime.

Some of my coworkers have been so supportive of this journey. My administration staff was so flexible with my multitude of doctor appointments, and celebrated with me on that last visit when I was granted a year of freedom. One of my principals who is a runner always had a fist-bump ready to keep me excited about my accomplishments - small as they seemed at times. My "roommate" at school let me have meltdowns and then picked me back up and brushed me off and sent me back out there to conquer more. She heard more venting in 6 months than anyone ever should have to endure. She always had some great advice or words of wisdom to keep things in perspective. Even my students who knew what I was training for and why got involved. Their encouragement was even more special... and knowing they were watching made it even more important to me. It's great to have such a supportive school behind me in my quest.

There are several people who have made such a difference during these past 5 1/2 months - and many didn't even realize the impact they had. Your emails and letters, cards and texts - they've meant the world to me, and always seemed to come at just the right time. When you share the ways my journey has inspired you or encouraged you, it keeps me going. It gives purpose to the pains and frustrations. It reminds me to never stop and never give up - because - yes - I'm going to say it again - you have the greatest impact on those you never knew were watching or listening. I've had several people tell me they decided to try to run for the first time, some who have done their first ever 5K, some who have decided that they are going to go back to the gym and work out with a trainer despite the medical chaos and improbability of improvement, some who are making healthy lifestyle changes, some who are inspired to go a further distance racing than they thought they ever would - it's all so humbling and inspiring. You all keep me going. You have all brought rays of sunshine to the tough days and reminded me of why & how I began this journey. Thank you for continuing to share your stories and successes. You are amazing! Keep going!

So many of my friends and teammates are dealing with unimaginable things right now. One of my teammates in KS is having a heart catheterization this week. Another teammate here has a very painful oral surgery coming up. Another in CA has her 12th week of cancer treatment ahead. Beyond just my teammates, my circle of friends and DRT coworkers have been through a LOT this year. In the past week we have lost 10 9/11 responders - two by suicide. My heart is so heavy right now. It's been too difficult to talk about so I've kept quiet about most of it. I wish there was more I could do with my running and posts to bring light to the 9/11 medical issues that thousands are going through. Please remember 9/11 did not end in 2001. It's still happening to families across America today. The media moved on long ago. Most of the world moved on. But it is still a daily battle for those who were there. It's still taking drastic tolls. Never, ever forget.

When my feet cross the starting line in one week, it begins a celebration. Those 13.1 miles are my victory lap. I have done the impossible. I have gone almost 6 months with no medication, no surgery, no invasive treatments and no medical emergencies. I have a year off from the medical nightmare of tests and procedures. I'm beating this autoimmune neurological stuff. I'm getting better. My kidneys and liver have healed. My lab work is back to normal. I'm able to run further without pain. None of the doctors can explain it. My coach can't explain it. I can't explain it. But we're doing it. We're beating the odds. I am going to spend 13.1 miles thanking God that I'm alive and healthy enough to run 13.1 miles again. I'm going to smile, enjoy the view and the company, laugh with friends, and just be content that I got to this point in just 5 1/2 months. I'm going to let go of the pressure and expectations and just relax and enjoy the run. But, along with this party atmosphere comes the realization that so many people are not around to celebrate with me, and many more are sidelined and unable to enjoy the freedom of running right now. It has been such a hard, difficult year. Please know that I am carrying each of you who are sidelined with me on every single mile next week. I'll run for you until you can get back out there and run with me again. Stay strong. Keep fighting. I'll be carrying the memory of friends who aren't here to run anymore, and those responders who gave it their all but 9/11 took them anyway. I'll be thinking about those families and remembering to give thanks for the opportunity I have to keep running for them.

Thank you for letting me get the heavy, sappy, sentimental stuff out now. While my heart will be carrying a lot of hurts and heartaches, my mind will be filled with thoughts of teammates and friends, and I will never forget why I am running, I do want next week to be a happy, positive experience. I want those 13 miles to be filled with joy and the excitement of being free to run again. Thank you all for sticking with me through these 5 1/2 months of training, and for being a part of what has made this journey so incredibly special.

Now... let's go Rock Tahoe and get this party started!!

Pushing it - just a little

Thursday was a rest day. It was not originally supposed to be, but after having a good 2.59 miles on Wednesday with the group, I was a little sore and we were playing it safe.

But on Friday morning, I joined the group for a treadmill workout. I was scared. I know on any given day, the treadmill impact hurts me worse than anything. The nerves do not like it. But, I wanted a workout and I wanted to be with the group.

I ran a couple of laps to warm up. I got on the treadmill with a lot of trepidation. We began.

I started off slow. We were doing 5x5s. 5 minutes faster, higher intensity, then 5 minutes slower, low intensity - and doing it 5 times. On the first one I went with a really slow pace. Then on the next one took it up a notch. I increased the speed each time. Even on the last one, I wasn't up to my fastest pace, so I still feel like I took it easy. I felt like I could have done more and gone faster, but that was not the goal for the day.

When I started on the track for warm-up, I felt the spot on my leg. I tried to stay calm and just feel it out. It was more of a dull ache than sharp pain. After a couple of laps it was okay and I wasn't feeling it. On the first 5 minutes of fast on the treadmill, I felt it again. I finished that 5 minutes and started the 5 minutes walking briskly. Then when I switched back over to the faster pace, I was okay. It didn't hurt anymore. Thankfully, coach waited until then to ask me if I was having any pain. I told him about the pain during the track laps and first 5 minutes, and he thought it sounded more like a muscle thing and said to keep rolling and stretching.

I wasn't in pain at the end of the workout, but I definitely felt tired. After we stretched I headed out and felt a renewed confidence that, even if it hurt, Tahoe was happening.

I iced at home and took some Aleve. It hurt a lot this evening, but I still think I'm going to be okay. I was supposed to do my long run tomorrow, but we may push that until Sunday, just to be safe. There are some new OCR classes being tested out this week at the gym, and since that is right up my fun alley, I want to be there for 1 or 2 of them. Tuesday is my last day with the run group before Tahoe. I don't want to miss that either.

I have so much to do to get ready for Tahoe. At this point, it's funny that running doesn't have to be on the priority list. If I get in some miles, great. If I don't, that's okay too,

I can't believe race day is 1 week away!

I don't get it

I don't get it. I really don't.

Today - absolutely no pain. I tried testing it out and doing everything I could besides run on it to see how it held up. No pain.

I spent the day doing lazier stuff around the house - laundry, cleaning kids' rooms, packing - nothing that required too much use of my legs.

I went to the gym early for run group. I ran a couple of laps. My legs were tight from not running in a few days. I did some stretching and warm ups. I ran a couple more laps. I felt like I was good to go for run group.

I headed out with the group to run and we laughed so much. It helped more than any of them will ever know. 31:26 and 2.59 miles later - I was good. Huge sigh of relief. Rivaled only by my coach's huge sigh of relief. Even my teammates were relieved. We stretched and rolled and I went home and iced and stretched more.

I don't know what it was. I don't know why it was okay today. I don't get it. But I'm just going to go with it. And breathe. And hope it stays okay.

Just breathing

Monday morning, I was in the pool early and swam for 45 minutes. When I got out of the pool I went in and took my time showering and getting dressed. My leg hurt. But not as bad as it did Saturday night. I went upstairs to roll and stretch, and just breathe. I finished and headed down to go through the stack of swim lesson requests. I passed my coach and said I'd come back up in a bit.

Coach and I finally talked about the injury. He said the exact words I'd been refusing to acknowledge in my own head. It might be a stress fracture. I've been fighting this since it first started hurting. Please, no. Not now. Not less than two weeks from the big race I've poured everything into training for over the past 5 1/2 months. Not this race. No.

Just breathe.

Coach and I had a long overdue conversation and I left the gym feeling somewhat better, though definitely tottering dangerously close to going over the edge over the leg issue.

I had a busy day on the agenda, so headed to my hair appointment and then rushed home to change. Then rushed to the coffee shop to meet with a coworker. It was so nice to sit and just talk and relax over a cup of tea and some banana bread. Time to just breathe.

We ended up heading over to Elliott's Boots, because she was looking for some sandals for her beach trip. We walked in and I saw the exact pair of sandals I'd been looking for. Not only that, but they only had two left - and they were both my size! I grabbed one and we finished shopping and headed out.

I went home, grabbed what I needed, changed into volleyball clothes, and headed back out, with all 4 kids in tow. It's a good thing I'd had that banana bread, because there was no time to eat dinner before hitting the sand for our tournament. Thankfully, Don said he'd head over and pick up some dinner for me and have it home when I got back from the tournament.

Our first game did not go well. Slaughter rule. It was bad. On one of the first plays, I felt the spot on my shin shoot pain up my entire leg. I did not panic. I did not scream or cry. But, I knew something was wrong. I couldn't bail on my team, and we finished the horrible match.

We went to play the losers bracket game, and we had two other players show up. I told them I was hurting but could play, but if it got worse, I was out. We started off really well and played much better for game 2. After switching sides at the halfway point, my shin was still bothering me. After another lunging play, I was done and knew it. I called for a medical substitution and left the game. I stood on the sideline with ice on my leg and texted my coach. His response, "Back to the water for tomorrow and possibly the rest of the week. I know you don't want to hear that, but we have to keep that from getting worse." I just wanted to cry. I already knew before I text him I wasn't running for a few days. But it's one thing to take myself out for a few days, and a completely different thing to have him tell me no running. I knew he was right. But I was on the verge of a meltdown over Tahoe.

When I got home, I ate while icing my leg, then jumped in the shower and just cried. I got out, went to bed really late for me, and hoped for the best.

When it rains, it pours.

Wide awake at 3 AM. Could not get back to sleep. 3 1/2 hours of sleep. Great. Finally decided to go back to bed around 6 AM. Not two seconds later, my oldest comes in puking. Seriously?

White Flag.

I'm done.

Bad timing on coach's end - he sends a text "I'd take the day off." Sleep deprivation + frustration = highly emotional. I just want sleep. I just want the pain to stop. I just want to run. I just want this race to actually happen.

I went back in the shower and cried again. It was the only thing I could do.

I got dressed, got my other boy ready for swim, and the two of us headed to the gym. I needed to stretch and roll some more.

I met up with the run group and tried to hide the disappointment that I couldn't join them. I stretched with them and rolled. Then did it again with another teammate. She and I ended up talking and I couldn't stop the tears. I'm so frustrated right now.

I went down to the swim office and ended up crying again with my supervisor. She joined in the tears and then gave me a hug. I left calmer than I got there. I drove my son home and got my girls ready for swim. I didn't think I could handle going back to the gym again, so Don took the girls for practice. I went and grabbed some lunch and ran a few errands.

I'm going to spend the rest of the day babying the leg again and trying to get things packed and ready for our trip. Distractions to keep from thinking about things. I really hope to get to bed early. Two nights in a row of very little sleep is not a good thing for anyone who has to deal with me.

Sunday not-so-fun Day

Aleve.
Biofreeze.
Stretch.
Ice.
Repeat.

The pain kept me up most of the night. This morning, it's more of a dull ache and not sharp pain. I may survive and make it to Tahoe. I really hope it's going to go away quickly and isn't something serious.

I haven't talked to my coach yet. On the to-do list.

I'm thinking about heading over to the gym - just to roll out my legs and stretch some more.

I'm so tired. That's something I've definitely noticed on my longer runs. They absolutely exhaust me. I end up having to take a nap after a run that's longer than 7 miles. Every time. I never had that issue before. Getting old? Or is it from the medical stuff? Who knows. I just know I'm tired.

Cades Cove running

I just LOVE running in Cades Cove. It's even better when you can share it with someone who has never been there.

When we arrived, it was an absolutely spectacular 53 degrees out. I was SO happy about that. I was running a few minutes late, but quickly found a good parking spot, rushed over to the store for a quick bathroom stop before we headed out, shed a layer and grabbed my hydration pack, then hurried to meet my teammate at the gate.

She was anxiously watching for me, and her nervousness was apparent. Her husband was there on his bike, and he planned to circle around and check on us as we went. We headed out at a good, steady, slower pace.

The cove was, as always, beautiful this morning. We had a wonderful run, with great conversation, and enjoyed the impromptu check-ins from her husband. We didn't see any animals at all, which is weird for me in Cades Cove. Her husband let us know we had just run right by a bear, and later shared pictures. Go figure.

We easily did the first couple of miles. When we turned on Hyatt Lane, I noticed my legs were not happy with the change in terrain. The lane is gravel instead of asphalt. We stayed in the middle of the road as much as possible and kept rolling. 3 miles down. Then 4. I celebrated with her on passing her longest run distance. Around the same time, I felt the nerve pain start. I also felt that same spot on my leg. I tried to ignore it. After all, no matter what, I have to keep going. We're still 3 miles from the exit of the loop and there are no cars. Either I sit here until 10:30 waiting, or I just keep going and hope for the best.

From mile 4-5 was rough. It was a lot slower than the first 4. I could tell it was getting difficult for her too. But then, after we'd turned back onto the asphalt and reached 5, the excitement over the 5th mile must have unlocked another round of adrenaline, because she was ready to go. We picked up the pace. We hit 6 miles and she just outright stopped running and said, "Done!" I laughed, congratulated her on the accomplishment, we kept walking and talking, and suddenly she says, "I think I can do 7." I asked if she was sure and then we started running again. We took it easy on the up and down hills, and walked up most of the bigger hills. But when we hit mile 7, she was so excited, and so was I. It is always so much fun to watch others accomplish goals they never imagined they could do. Before we started, she was skeptical she could reach 5 miles, much less 6. But then, by the time we finished, we'd gone 7.5 miles, with most of those miles running. I couldn't have been prouder of her. She almost doubled her longest distance!

By the time I got to my car, I knew I had a problem. My leg was hurting so incredibly bad. I stopped at a local store I knew just outside of the park, and got a couple of ice packs and attached them to my leg with some extra layers of clothing in my car. I drove home icing my leg.

As soon as I got home I stretched, showered, stretched more, and iced again. By this evening, I knew this was more serious than I'd thought. I wanted to cry and throw a temper tantrum, but I knew that wouldn't help and would likely just cause the other medical crap to start. So I stayed calm and just kept doing everything I knew to alleviate the pain. At the same time, I started feeling some pain in my lower back. I just wanted to throw up a white flag and surrender. My race is in two weeks! I cannot be injured. I cannot start having issues. Not now. Why? Why can I not just have one race where I'm not injured or sick? Why can't I have just one race where I can enjoy it and not be in pain the entire time?

I'm going to take some Aleve, go to bed, and hope this all goes away overnight.

SLOWing down

We were having new windows put in our home today. I was planning to go for a run really early, before the oppressive heat set in. That didn't happen. By lunch time, I knew I had to get out of my house or I was going to lose it with all of the noise and activity. So I escaped to the gym. 

I went out to run around the track. It was flipping HOT. It was a miserable run. I passed a trainer I knew a couple of times and she smiled and waved some encouragement as I went. When I was finished, I had gone 3.5 of the 3.75 planned miles, and did it at a turtle's pace of 48 minutes. I didn't even care what the time was. I just wanted to get as close to 4 miles as I could without dying from the heat. 

I went in and found my old trainer and asked him about the sore spots I was dealing with. He showed me a machine to use to help stretch and strengthen a specific area. As we grabbed the machine, the other trainer saw me and asked, "Was that you out there running on the track?" When I said yes, and it was fliipping hot, she said, "You were killing it girl! Good job!" I looked at the other trainer and laughed. I said I felt like I was crawling and going so slow. He responded with - "Yeah, but you did it." He showed me how to use the little machine. At first I was skeptical, because it felt too easy. Then, after about 20 reps, I felt it. That was definitely hitting the right area. So I did another set, thanked him and headed out. 

I'm actually glad tomorrow is a rest day. This heat is going to do me in. I am SO looking forward to meeting a teammate in Cades Cove on Saturday. She wants to try to go 6 miles. Her longest so far has been 4. I'm excited about helping her conquer this goal, and getting in another beautiful run in the cove before Tahoe. Hoping the forecast stays nice. 

Group Run Day

It's Wednesday. Group Run Day!

I babied my shin all night and all morning, just hoping I'd be okay with running with the group this evening. When I got to the group run, the leg was okay. No sharp pain and no real achiness, so I was willing to give it a shot.

We made it about 1/2 a mile before another lady in the group had to stop to walk because of some knee issues. So I gladly slowed to a walk with her and just enjoyed the conversation. After one lap around though, I was ready to jump in with the others as they ran by us, because I wanted to run on my leg and see if it was really okay. It took a while for the others to catch up to us, but then we did this crazy switch-off and I ended up running with a friend for another 0.6 miles. It was a faster-paced 0.6, but my leg held up fine. Nothing to make me think there was a problem.

Our run ended and it was time to go inside to workout and stretch. We did an easy breathing/core exercise and some rolling. By the time we left I was antsy. I needed more run time. I wasn't ready to go home yet and I wasn't ready to call it a day. I didn't want to stay at the gym and run. So I drove over to Anchor Park and pulled into a spot. I never run here. I wasn't even sure where to go. But, I figured the sidewalk along the main road was pretty flat and even, so I'd just do a quick out and back before it got dark.

I managed to 1.5 in 17:39, and felt better. Nothing hurt, though when I got home, I ended up icing and babying the leg a little more. I was just trying to prevent whatever it was from coming back.

Deep breaths - I think we're good to go.

Uh Oh

I spent the morning trying to get everything finished with my WSI so I can start teaching swim lessons at the gym. After hours of staring at a screen, I couldn't wait to get out and run. Unfortunately, the heat has been oppressive, and running in it is not easy for me. I was going to wait until later in the evening when it was cooler to go out and run, but my boys were leaving and Don was gone, so I couldn't leave the girls alone to go run. I headed out earlier than planned.

Surprisingly, my lungs handled the heat okay. The problem was, my legs were not okay. There were sore, and then going up a hill, I got a sharp pain in my left shin, on the exact same spot that was bothering me yesterday. I turned towards home, cutting the run extremely short. I started icing it and trying not to panic. This pain was in a different spot than my normal shin splint type of pain. I really hope it's just sore and unhappy. My plan had been to get 2 miles in tonigh, and 2 in the morning. I think now I'm just going to go with 1.75 now and 0 in the morning. This is the last thing I need 2 weeks before my race.

Easy Day

Today was to be a rest day, but I was feeling restless, so I jumped in the pool for an incredibly easy 20 minute swim. It felt great. The only thing is, I've noticed a sore spot on my leg that isn't going away with stretching or ice. I'm hoping it's just my nerves doing crazy stuff again, and not something more serious.

One positive to note this morning... For a while, I had plateaued in the weight loss. This morning, the scale had crept back down a little bit. I'll take any move in that direction, no matter how small it is!!

This should be a pretty easy week of running. Saturday's 11 at Cades Cove was my last big run before Tahoe. I cannot believe we're here already!! I know these next couple of weeks are going to fly by, but I also know there will be a lot of days of doubt and wondering if I really am ready and if I really have done enough. This is when trusting the coach becomes even more important, and remembering how far I've come and how much I've been through to get to this point keeps things in perspective.

20 more

This week I hit 20 more miles, but these were a lot harder to manage.

Monday started with a rest day. Yes, I pouted. But, it was probably a good day to rest.

Tuesday, I was supposed to go 3.75. I went 3.5 - but I ended up walking half of it. It was so hot out. I passed a teammate going the opposite way a couple of times, and she finally stopped me and said "let's walk a lap or two." So we did. It was great chatting the miles away, but I knew I really needed to be running it. My body was just not having it.

Wednesday was an optional up to 30 minute run. Well, it was Wednesday, so obviously I was going to the group run. 2.57 mile complete. It was much easier than Tuesday but still really hot and miserable.

Thursday, I was supposed to go 3.75 again. Again, it just wasn't happening. 2 miles in, I was done. It was brutally hot. So, I decided to go do a mile in the pool instead. I was hurting. I felt like I had hyperextended my knee at some point, either Wednesday after group run or sometime during the day Thursday at work. It hurt to run. It hurt to swim. I was starting to worry about the long run on Saturday.

Thankfully Friday was a rest day. I did a lot of stretching and pampering my legs during the day. Plus, it was the last day of work!! Summer... here I come!!

Saturday started way too early. I drove the hour and fifteen minutes to Cades Cove. I was really apprehensive on the way there. By the time I got into the National Park, I had calmed and was just loving the cooler temps and beautiful scenery. Parking was nearly impossible. Once everyone found a parking spot we all met at the campground store area. Sean introduced the college runners to each other and to me, and then they set off to run together, while Sean and I took a slower pace. It took me a few minutes to actually start the run. I was scared and stalling. But once we started, I felt great.

Running in Cades Cove in an experience every runner should have at least once in their lifetime. The hills can be tough, but it is just absolutely beautiful. It is always the perfect warm-up for Tahoe. We talked and ran, enjoyed the surroundings, and just kept chipping away at the miles. We did see some bear, several deer and tons of turkeys. Lots and lots of bicyclists passed us, most with encouragement or at least a good morning. The morning was just filled with nice people, laughs, and some great conversation. Getting 11 miles in was just the icing on the cake. There was some pain and a lot of walking, but it was a decent 11 miles. It was much slower than I plan to go in Tahoe, but was what I needed for today.

Saturday night I went out and walked almost 2 miles in the neighborhood. I was feeling okay. I could tell I had run 11, but nothing really hurt.

Sunday morning I was exhausted, but I managed to go run 1 mile in 12:13. Everything felt fine, I was just so tired. This led to Monday being declared a rest day. But - I had managed to rack in 20 miles on a really tough, hot week.

There were a lot of motivating factors this week. My life outside of running was dealt a few blows in the past two weeks. But all it has done is add fuel to the fire. My desire to run Tahoe and do it well just keeps intensifying. When we talk about Tahoe goals, it was, from day 1, just to finish. But now, that's not enough for me. I don't want to just finish. I already know I can do that. I want to do more than finish. I want to finish well - for me. Realistically, we're talking about a finish less than 3 hours. Ideally - we're talking 2:45. Slow by most any standard. But - for me - being able to come back a year and seven months since almost dying after a half-marathon, and be able to run one in less than 3 hours -- that's a pretty big feat. Especially when I'll have only been running again for 5 1/2 months. Now - my heart wants even more than that. I would absolutely love for everything to be perfect on race day, and be able to hit a 2:30. I've kind of broken it down like this:

2:30 or better - absolute ecstasy
2:30-2:45 - very, very happy and super-excited
2:45-2:55 - happy and satisfied
less than 3 hours - we're good
finish - okay - it's enough - for now

I know my coach has a very different breakdown for it. But, this is where my head and heart are right now.

Looking ahead - because it's the ongoing question of "then what?" -

June 22 - If I survive Tahoe and the travel to & from - possibly the Rescue Run here in Knoxville

July 3 - Pilot Fireball Moonlight Classic 5K; Neyland Drive in Knoxville

July 13 - Crazy 8s - Totally Crazy 3K & 8K - most of my team just doing the 8K, but hey - totally crazy fits me; this one is in Kingsport, TN

August 24 - Rebel Run in Maryville - 10K - really excited about this one; trying for a PR in the 10K

October 12 - Salem 8K in my hometown

first weekend in November - Oak Ridge Fall Classic 5K ??

April 18, 2020 - Anthem Star 10K in Roanoke, VA

I'm sure other 5Ks and possibly another 10K or 2 will be added in here. But - no - as of right now, I do not see another half-marathon in my future. I just don't have the desire, drive or motivation to do any other half. If I ever do another half - it will likely be the Rock Tahoe half again. Maybe next time I can drag more of you there with me!!

And, speaking of which, this is the FINAL call for registration for Rock Tahoe. There are only a few spots left. Come run an epic, almost entirely downhill half-marathon with us, and stay for the week for vacation fun. It's going to be awesome. There is still room in our team house. You just need to register and show up.

Register here:

https://raceroster.com/18627?aff=VHG6V


Get this medal:


And get this shirt:





JOIN US!!!!

20 miles

This week things just clicked. It definitely did not start off that way. On Saturday, I participated in a mud run with my run group. Although we had an absolute blast, the run itself was horrible for me. I could not catch my breath for anything. The air was really heavy, it rained off and on the whole time, and I was struggling. Big time. The obstacles were no problem. I was up, over, under and through with no trouble whatsoever. Plus, they gave me time to catch my breath. But the running. The running was awful.

Despite how bad the run felt, we finished really well and in a great position. For a team of two first time mudders, two teen boys and a mom who couldn't breathe, we did awesome. Then came the photos and videos. I was a mess when I saw them. Inconsolable. Which led to a complete meltdown of the entire two weeks of stress in one quick moment. I was ready to quit running. Give up. Walk away. Forget I ever even attempted this journey. It's so frustrating to be over four months down the road from where I started and see no physical changes on the outside. I know that a lot has improved on the inside. I just wish all of the hard work and effort would start showing on the outside. I'm sick of looking like this. So tired of dealing with the constant immune responses and swelling. Someone once asked me to try to explain it to them. The easiest visual? Have you ever see someone who's allergic to bee stings or peanuts or anything else swell up after coming in contact with their allergen? Well, I have a constant allergen (the neurotoxin) inside of my body at all times. Certain things trigger that allergen to cause an anaphylactic type of response on the inside of my body. So all of that swelling you see on the outside on someone having an allergic reaction to something? That is going on inside my body on the cellular level. I have dozens of "tumors"/"masses" inside my body. They are not cancerous. They believe this is where pockets of the neurotoxin have been clumped. These lumps swell - unbelievably so sometimes. There are some moments immediately after intense workouts or extremely high levels of stress that I look like I am 9 months pregnant with twins again. It is not a pretty sight. On any given day, I am walking around with swelling somewhere. On a really good day, no one can tell there is any swelling - or they ask if I've lost weight or am feeling better - because it's noticeable that I'm not as swollen as usual. On the really bad days... you guys - I can't even look in the mirror on those days or I will lose it completely. I have melted into tears hating myself on those bad days - which only makes the swelling worse and the immune response go into overdrive. Thankfully, I have a few people who have figured this out and a couple who are really great at keeping me calm, making me laugh, and helping me fight the response. My doctors are amazed at how much control we've gained over it. However, though we've figured out how to mitigate the response, and even prevent it sometimes or at least make it less intense, we have not figured out how to completely eliminate it - especially after exercising or, specifically, running. I've been noticing the response is less and less now after my long runs, but definitely still there and still happening. BUT - I'll take the progress. Again - I just wish the progress was showing on the outside. When the doctors said I'd never lose the weight and would likely just gain more weight by working out, they were only partially right. I have lost some weight. Not that anyone can tell. But I have not gained any of it back, nor did I gain any when I intensified the workouts (which was a huge fear). So, we're somewhat winning here. But, I would give anything for my body to show outwardly all of the sweat, tears, effort and determination that has been poured into the past 4 1/2 months.

All of this frustration came to a head on Saturday night, and Sunday (Mother's Day) morning. By far one of the worst days ever. But, thankfully, one of those people stepped in and provided an outlet for the frustration, a change of scenery, a few laughs, and a way to calm me down and get me back into a calmer, controlled frame of mind. By Sunday evening, I had decided that I needed to go ahead with my long run for the week, since I had refused to do it after the mud run pain on Saturday.

Sunday evening I hit 6 miles... with my best 5 mile time of the year, and my third best 10K time of all-time! Um... well... that was unexpected. With that victory came a struggle. I was supposed to go 9. I just could not. Didn't know at the time why... I just knew it was not happening.

Monday was great. Managed volleyball and 2 miles running as scheduled. The run was good. Volleyball was great. All-around winning day.

Tuesday I had an option to run, but kept debating back and forth. Finally, I let my coach decide. I went for 1 mile. I decided to try to run the entire mile, since it had been a while since I'd made it a full mile running without a walk interval. I slowed (?) my pace and kept things easy. I wanted my lungs to be happy, my legs to be happy, and my nerves to be happy. Success. 11:20 mile. No pain. No difficulty. no problem. Perfect. I wanted so bad to keep going, but refused, reminding myself group run was the next evening.

I also went to lunch with a teammate Tuesday - and we had a great discussion. It's comforting to know there are other people who get where you have been or where you are now - and connect with you on multiple levels.

Wednesday. Group run day!! Coach was going to be out, but that was not going to stop us. We met, did our run, worked out, and did it all well. I managed to go the entire 2.7 miles running with no walk intervals, and it was at a great pace for me. I was happy with it. I also had some great conversation and was thankful again that coach had pushed for me to join in with the group on Wednesdays. Again - great connections.

Thursday. I was feeling great. The boys had swim later in the evening, so I decided to repeat the Wednesday evening run, only by myself this time. The first mile actually felt good, and was easy. When I saw the time and realized I was going too fast, I switched to intervals and forced myself to slow it down. I did the run faster than the night before - even with multiple walk intervals. Maybe too fast - but it felt great. I had to go jump in the pool for a few minutes after the run, to get ready for a skills test on all strokes Friday. I hadn't swam butterfly or side stroke in forever, so I needed to make sure I could still pull it out. I had not done a solid run followed by an immediate hard & fast swim set in almost two years. My lungs felt like they were going to burst. It was so hard to swim. I also had a sore area on my back before I started, and it started hurting really bad after the second length of butterfly. That swim hurt. A lot. But I felt ready for the skills test. I definitely was really glad Friday was a scheduled rest day. I went home and did everything I could to recover and keep the pain at bay.

In the back of my mind this week was the weekend long run. I couldn't shake the fear over it. It took me a long time to figure it out. I was terrified to go longer than 7 miles. Why? Because the last time I did - I almost died. I knew the doctors had all said I'm good to go. I knew my coach felt like I was ready. I knew I could do it. But I was scared out of my mind. I was also embarrassed. What distance runner is afraid to run more than 7 miles? I knew it was an overreaction, but several things this week had made me really nervous about it. I realized that the past 2 weekends, I'd bailed on the longer distances. It's a mental block. I did not want to tell anyone about it - especially my coach - but couldn't figure out how to get past it on my own.

Friday. Well. First thing Friday morning - at like 4 AM - thunder woke me up and I instinctively grabbed my phone to look at the weather app. Instead of the weather, however, the first thing that caught my eye was my coach had posted feedback on my run Thursday. He was yelling at me!!! I was thinking "what did I do?!" But then I realized that I had sent him a very short "well that hurt" type of text and then never clarified. He must have gotten the text really late and then seen my run, with a first mile of 10:44, and immediately thought the run had been the hurt part. It took a while but I think we ended up on the same page. I do need to slow down my runs, especially my first miles, and I'm pretty sure I'll be more specific on future texts. Before anyone jumps to any conclusions - my coach is still the best hands-down, and the only reason I say he was "yelling" was because of the exclamation points and the way he phrased his "you know better" type of commentary. He's really not a yeller. At least not at me. And he's not mean. He was just making a very strong point - that I needed to hear.

We ended up talking later that morning and I shared my fears about the long run. He already knew. Go figure. We discussed some strategies. Hoped it would help but was still convinced 9 was not happening on the weekend. At least not at one time.

Anyways - Friday was REST DAY. Thankfully. The skills test literally took me like 5 minutes. It took 10 times as long to drive there as it did to take the test. But - I passed it quickly. Would you believe I did not miss running on Friday? I was completely content to have a day off. For once. It was nice.

Saturday. <Deep breath> Saturday. It took me longer to get going than I had planned. I was stalling and I knew it. I finally set out after mapping out a route, contacting a friend on the route to stash an aid station, leaving instructions at home, and taking a whole lot of deep breaths. Mile 1 - I tried so hard to keep my pace slow. Really slow. Success. I hit mile 1 at 13:46. Right where coach wanted me. Whew. No yelling tomorrow. Mile 2 - I got into a groove and was trying to convince myself that I'd be happy about the 5:2 interval later. I was not feeling that 2 minutes of walking. I hated it. But - I was happy in the 5 minutes of running. Mile 2 - 13:28. Still slow but increasing pace. OK. Mile 3 - I'm actually enjoying this. It's slow - but it's nice out. But this is only mile 3. How am I going to go 6 more? Nope - not thinking about that. Rules. Sean's rules. Rule 3 is run the mile you're in. I'm going to focus on this one and worry about the others when I get to them. Let's just keep enjoying this. Rule 2's have fun. We can at least try. Mile 3 - 13:25. Wow - consistent enough? Mile 4 - my three fave songs all came on my iPod during this mile. Plus a good downhill. Plus I hit the halfway mark. Mile 4 - 12:46. Nice. Almost. Thinking if I go this slow in Tahoe I'm never going to finish. But - at least this is easy. I stopped at my stash at my friend's house and ate a quick snack and drank some water. Headed back out for mile 5. Including the break mile 5 was 15 something - but it was still on pace when I was moving. I was happy with it. Mile 6. Hill from Hades. Dude. Village Green is vicious. Still - with the hill - mile 6 was 13:03. Staying consistent. Mile 7 - got to go back down said hill. But when I got out of Village Green I had to make a pit stop at the park. So mile 7 ended up another 15 something - but my pace was still consistent with the rest when moving. I started on mile 8. Then my mind registered that it was mile 8. So did my nerves. The pain was intense. I started to freak out. I reminded myself again that I was okay, to remember to run the mile I'm in (thanks coach), and I was really close to home and could bail if I had to. Let's just get through one more 5 minute interval and see what happens. Mile 8 - 13:23. I half-smiled, half-cried. I was still alive and still going. I was okay. It hurt like crazy. I was tired. But I was okay. I'm so close to mile 9 - I have to keep going now. I have to try to finish this. 5 more minutes of running. Mile 9 - 13:00. Huge smile. I did it. I was still 0.2 from home, so I kept going. I thought about going for 10. My nerve pain was not lessening, and I was tired, so I thought it was better to end now and still be able to go for 11 next weekend than to push now. So at 9.2 miles - I finished. Happy and proud. It was exactly 2 hours. Way slower than I want to go - but this wasn't a race. This challenge was - can I go the 9 miles? Can I get further than 7? As the nerve pain eased, I realized something else. My legs did not go numb. I know most people are thinking "I should hope not." But, in the past few races, I've dealt with a lot of pain and numbness. I finished the Anthem 10K without being able to feel my legs for the last 0.5 miles. None of that happened today - on my longest run. I really am getting better. Or my body is finally adapting. Either way - I made it 9 miles!!

Saturday evening I took my girls back out and walked while they rode their scooters. I was sore. I was totally feeling the 9.2 miles from that morning. But I was okay enough to walk and was laughing while texting with a teammate. It was a great evening.

Sunday morning. I woke up thinking "why do I do this to myself?!" I could barely stand up or walk. I forced myself to move and get going. By mid-morning I was ready to attempt to run again. I was only supposed to try 1.5 easy miles - pretty sure just as a recovery run to try to ward off any stiffness or muscle cramping. The first 0.5 miles were awful. It hurt. I was sore. I was tired. But then I got into the easy run a bit, and relaxed. I was going slow and easy. Mile 1 - 12:24. I took an intentional turn to make the run a 2-miler instead of 1.5. I figured if I got to 1.5 and was done I could just walk the rest and be okay. I was just feeling better moving and running. So I kept going. Mile 2 - 12:14. I ended happy and a good-sore.

Sunday afternoon it dawned on me. I ran 20 miles this week!!!!! And most of them were good miles!! One week ago I almost missed this. One week ago I almost let temporary frustrations and disappointments lead me to walking away and giving up on it. So thankful for friends who refuse to let me quit, and a patient-beyond-patient coach who knows when to push, when to comfort, and when to redirect.

I have no idea from one day to the next when it will be a good run day or when the pain is going to be too intense to allow me to run. But for now, I will be celebrating this past week as a string of good run days and be thankful for that. Looking ahead - I don't even know what I'm supposed to run this week yet. My coach might be hiding from me (avoiding my complaining about soreness??). But what I do know is that Saturday we are heading to one of my favorite places to run 11 miles. I know Tahoe is still just over 3 weeks away - but this is our Tahoe. We both know if I can do these 11 miles here in the hills of Tennessee in freaking hot weather, Tahoe is going to be a breeze. I heard it snowed there again today. Begging it to stay cool for one more month - but not too cold. Praying the timing and temperature work out perfectly. I'm really hoping my body sticks with the program this week and allows those 11 miles to happen Saturday. If not - I'm sure there's a backup plan. But, regardless, I know I am ready and able to run Tahoe and maybe even have fun during the race. We've come a long way in 4 1/2 months.

Just Haven't Seen it Yet

Race Day Journal

7:30 AM

I'm not sure how I went from "That's it, I'm not going to run. It's not worth it," at 3 AM to the starting line laughing with my teammate and Daniel, but here I am. I honestly feel so nauseous and nervous, but we did a warm-up, I'm standing here, and they are counting down to the canon blast to start the race (yeah - we use a canon not a gun in Roanoke - don't ask). Not quite too late to turn back now - but if I'm here, I'm at least going to start. I can always bail at mile 1. Or 2. Or at the turn.

John Carlin's voice keeps coming through the speakers and it's strangely comforting. I heard his voice all throughout my childhood and into adulthood. He was a runner, a really nice guy, and just so stinking calm - all of the time. I'm glad he's here, and glad he's the guy with the microphone.

That anthem, though. Wow. Um.

Moving on.

Oh gosh. 2 minutes. I'm going to puke. What am I doing?

One last pre-race photo. That's what.

7:35 AM
BOOM

That canon blast is something else. Running through the smoke afterwards is an experience too.

But HERE
WE
GOOOOOOOOOO

I spent the first 10 minutes telling Daniel to slow down a bit, and making sure people didn't knock him over. Surprisingly, this year there were some rude people literally pushing people aside, passing them on the sidewalk side with less than an inch between them and the sidewalk, or tripping people as they cut drastically in and out of runners. It was insane. I have never seen such behavior at a Roanoke race and it was not appealing at all. Don't be one of those people. The ones hugging the sidewalk are trying to give you room to run down the middle of the road however fast you want to go. No need to EVER physically lay your hands on anyone or tell anyone to move, like someone did to my teammate. You're faster - so go around. Don't be obnoxious. We started where we were told to start and stayed to the side as requested. Did you follow directions? If you had, you shouldn't have been directly behind us moving that fast. The faster runners were supposed to be front and center. Maybe you underestimated yourself? But anyway...

One of the times I said "Slow down," Daniel replied with, "I've never run so slow in my life." I started to explain he'd be glad he did in about 20 minutes, but I figured he'd figure it out himself in less time than that. He asked if we were in last place, because there were so many people in front of us. I told him, "turn around and look." He looked back and got a shocked look on his face. There were three times as many people behind us as in front of us. He's never run a race this big. That was fun to see.

The uphill start quickly turned downhill (and easy), and we turned towards the Walnut Avenue bridge.

This is one of my favorite parts of this race. You can see runners heading up the first hill, you can see the star where you'll be in 30-50 minutes, and it's a sea of people conquering the toughest road race in America, together, as a huge blob. I should have taken a picture, but I was too focused. These don't give the full vantage point and don't come close to sharing the awesomeness of it, but they're all I've got.

(photos from 2017 courtesy of Blue Ridge Marathon)

(picture from Lori K of group going up Walnut Ave)

We started up the first hill. We made it! But Daniel started saying "my calves!!" We made it a little further and he was ready to walk. So I picked a sign and told him to run to it and we'd walk a minute.

We passed mile 1 - 12:08. Slower than I probably would have gone on my own, faster than my coach probably wanted to see, but good. We'll go with it.

By the way, band at mile 1 and 5 - AWESOME. Loved it.

Up the next incline. Three steps in Daniel was complaining. I said pick something up there somewhere. He chose a sign. I said run to it and we'll walk again.

We did this most of mile 1-2.

We saw the mile 2 sign. I let out a loud cheer. Others echoed. I knew in that instant I was going to finish this race. It just clicked. I didn't care how long it took me. I just knew right then, in that moment, that it IS possible. That's a pretty awesome feeling, especially when 5 hours ago you were determined you were not going to be able to run at all.

There's a long stretch from 2-3 that is pretty even and not a steep incline. I tried so hard to get Daniel to run it, but he was complaining about his calves hurting. So, we took it really easy. I knew the worst was yet to come. Sure enough, that tough part at 2.5 hit. That stunk. That hill hurts. Buns. Of. STEEL. Just saying.

As Daniel got further into the race he picked it up a little. He commented on how he was holding me back and that I could totally beat him up this mountain. I explained I didn't care and I'd rather go up it with him than try to run faster, plus, I was supposed to be taking it easy going up and using walk breaks. I was really enjoying this time with him, watching him face his biggest challenge yet, and coaching him through it. Plus, the perk was, the more I focused on coaching him through it, the easier it became for me and the less I thought about myself. I just enjoyed the run.

Other runners who were alternating between running and walking to conquer the mountain would start conversations with us. Most, finding out it was Daniel's first 10K, would comment on how well he was doing, and how insane it was that he chose this race as his first 10K!!

I spotted the bus and got really excited. We made it to the turn!!!

"All of the fully insane, crazy people stay straight. Everyone else - turn right!!!"

This always gets lots of laughs.

Some guy tried to tell me we were 0.7 away from the turn. I pointed and said, "It's right there." Then he got really excited. I then explained we were 0.7 from the top. He took off. We passed him less than 2 minutes later.

That last climb, from the turn to the top of the mountain, is extremely steep and long. It's by far the hardest part of the 10K. There was a sign there that said, "Run your race in such a way that you may seize the prize and make it yours." I was half-convinced my coach put it there, and I had to stop and take a quick picture.

Then, we started up the horrible climb. We ran about 20 seconds and walked. Then did 15 seconds running. Then walked. Then hit 30 seconds running. Then walked. The entire way up.

We saw mile 3. Pure adrenaline rush. We are almost halfway!!! Mile 3 - 16:26. Yeah - it stunk. It was hard. But we did it!

Then, I saw the volunteer at the top directing runners onto the trail, and pointed him out to Daniel. I said, "we walk to him, then we GO." He asked if that was the start of the trail around the top, and I said yes, and reminded him to be careful on the mud, roots and rocks, since they'd be slick. We hit the trail and he took off. I said, "Are you leaving me?!" I heard, "I don't know," and then he disappeared. He jetted down the mountain. I was okay with that, and just yelled, "be careful!"

I came to the last little incline up to the star and there were so many people there. I quickly grabbed an orange slice and a water, had the orange in my mouth, and then saw the photographer. Horrible placement photo people!!!!!!! Fix that next year. Really. Please. Just a little bit down the path to your left, you could have had amazing shots with star behind runners. Bad angle as it was, I shifted things, smiled (I'm sure with orange pulp stuck in my teeth) and moved on. Threw away the rind and cup, and took off. I began passing so many  people. That's a weird thing for me, because it rarely happens. I was flying. And it felt wonderful. (found out later I moved up 15 places in my age group alone from the 2.7 mark to the finish line - that astounded me) 

I reminded myself that I needed to tighten my skirt before we had a wardrobe malfunction. So on one of the watch beeps for a walk interval, I decided to take that minute and actually walk, fix the skirt, catch a few deep breaths, and get ready to run as far as I could from that point. I was ready by the end of the minute and took off again, as carefully as I could at that speed due the potholes, uneven asphalt, debris on the road and wetness. I let myself lean into the momentum and just go - but I also tried to hold back just a tad out of caution.

Mile 4 - FOUR!!!!!!!!!!!! Already?! 13:25. You know what that means. Mimosa signs start appearing.

I ran. And ran. And enjoyed every second of feeling like I was flying down the mountain. I saw a man slow in front of me and then stop. He was hurting. I yelled, "You've got this. Keep going!" He picked back up. Just in time for the mimosas at the Brown house.

I saw the crowd, waved at the people handing out the drinks and kept going. I was in a groove and didn't want to stop. I'm pretty sure I moved up about 50 places overall there. SO many were just stopped, hanging out and drinking together. Mid-race party?

I kept flying down the hill and before I knew it, I saw mile 5 and the turn. Mile 5 - 9:28!!!! Score!!! Third fastest mile ever. I'll take that.

I grabbed one last water, only took a quick sip, threw the cup, and kept going.

I started the downhill and spotted Daniel up ahead, starting onto the bridge. Thankful again for the awesome musicians set up there - they were great.

Kept running. I felt wonderful.

I made it to the bridge. It dawned on me. I have done this. I did it. I am going to finish. I'm making good time. I'm on track to get there around that 1:20 mark. I feel fantastic. I did it. I'm really back!!!

I got to the bridge, ran about 1/3 of the way up and took a walk break. I knew a big uphill was coming before the last little downhill finish.

I started feeling the nerve pain creeping into my feet. Then instant numbness. I looked at my watch. I still had 10 minutes to get there and not hate my finish time. I'd be okay. I walked a little more. I could not feel my legs. I started to think about what the doctor said, looked at my watch again, and saw I had just 0.7 to go. I decided to run to a light, walk again to the top of the incline, and then book it, knowing I still had plenty of time and was well within reach of my goal time.

I made it to the light. Began walking. Could not feel anything below my waist. Could not feel my feet touching the pavement. That was supposed to be an instant stop running from the doctor. But I was so close. Sorry, Doc. I focused on keeping my feet under me and moving. A police officer asked me if I was okay. I promised him I wasn't drinking, just couldn't feel my legs. He laughed and said, "why not? Everyone else is?!" I laughed, thankful for the distraction and humor, and kept moving. I got to the top of the incline and the officer there shouted to me as I began running again, "Get it girl! You're there now!! Go!" I pushed.

I saw the brick entry to the finish chute. I turned and heard the announcer saying "Welcome Kristi Casey from Knoxville, TN to the finish line. She is running for team CareRunners and is running in honor of the thousands of 9/11 responders who are sick and dying from 9/11 related illnesses." I thought, "cool -they read the whole thing. Glad no one is finishing at same time as me. Oh crud, everyone's looking at ME then!" I heard some people start cheering and screaming. I still could not feel anything below my waist, and was hoping not to trip, hoped my wardrobe wasn't malfunctioning anywhere, and just decided to smile and go. I saw the clock and said to myself "Oh my gosh!!! HOW?!" That made my smile bigger. My coach and I had said 1 hour and 20 minutes was a good goal, based on the recent Achilles issue, nerve stuff, and where I was in training. My time when I crossed the line was 1:20:17. I could not have nailed it any closer. I was right on target. (Did not realize I had my own chaser bike on my tail.) 

I kept smiling, tried to stop without falling, and Daniel was there to give me a high five. He said, "good job Mom" and I replied with "I can't feel my legs!" I stopped, stood there, got my medal and a cupcake (yes!!!), and told Amanda "I can't feel my legs." I could barely stand. My legs were shot. I couldn't feel myself walking.

Daniel and I were asked for a finish line photo with our medals, took the picture, were handed a water, and then walked to the photo booth. We waited in line and devoured our cupcakes (which were amazing). I sent a text to my coach and got a message from Lori, so chatted with her a bit.

Daniel and I got our photos and I still could not walk or feel anything. We went to get food, piled our plates high, grabbed drinks, and went up to the VIP balcony. Walking up there, especially up the stairs, was an interesting feat.

We got to the balcony and Daniel immediately sat down. I told him he was going to regret that. He didn't care. He was wiped out. I stood and ate. Took the shoes off. Ate more. Drank water. Ate more. Kept texting. Patrick joined us. He sat down and said, "I'm so sore." Daniel almost went across the table to choke him as I said, "Don't you even say that - take your little volunteer shirt and go get these runners another drink." Daniel was mouthing off worse than that. Patrick's lucky to still be able to walk and talk. Note to others - if you did not run a race - do not stand next to people who just finished running up a mountain and say that anything hurts or is sore. Just don't do it.

Eventually I decided to go walk to the car and get my duffel bag so I could change into something more comfortable. Daniel decided to walk with me and get his phone. We stopped on the way back to get more food for him, and another chocolate milk for me. Back up the stairs we went. Ugh.

Lori had finished and was at our table. We celebrated a bit and then I took my shoes off, put on my flip flops, and went inside to change.

When I came back out, I finally sat down. I then decided to tell my coach that I was ready to go run it again. He replied with "Um. Go eat some more." I cracked up. He probably had a good point. My brain functioning was not at its best at this point. But I was starting to have feeling in my legs again.

I tried to eat a little more but then felt nauseous. I could feel the energy just being zapped completely out of my body. I was tired.

We made plans to get together at 3:00 and go to an early dinner so Lori could get back for the concert and the boys and I could possibly leave for home when we dropped her off at the park.

When we got to Dad's, I immediately took a shower, then wrapped both legs with huge ice packs. I sat down on the bed and organized and packed my stuff. I could feel my eyes getting heavy. I uploaded pictures. Could barely stay awake at this point. We decided to leave then for dinner, because if we waited 20 more minutes, I'd be sound asleep.

We met Lori at the parking garage near the park and then headed over to El Rodeo. The restaurant had obviously changed ownership and did not live up to the standard we'd come to expect after 20+ years of going there. But, we had a good dinner, good conversation, and some down time.

We dropped Lori and Amanda back off at the garage and headed back to Dad's. On the drive back, I thought about the lyrics to the song "Just Haven't Seen it Yet." I smiled and thought, "but I'm starting to see the rays of light from that sunrise." I thought about the day and asked myself if I would change anything about how it went, or any decision I made. The answer was no. I was perfectly happy and content with the way things went and had absolutely no regrets. It was a great race day. That feels good to say.

At this point, there is no way I'm driving 4 hours to Knoxville tonight, so we are just vegging out and hanging out with Dad and Nellie. I don't know how long I'll be able to stay awake at this point, but it's so nice to just stand (not sitting or I'd be asleep) and talk.

I'm sure I left out some details and will remember other things to add later, but for now, this is my race recap. More pictures are sure to come and I'll post more tomorrow.



Daniel's finish photos:

Disaster in the Making?

We drove up the race route after dinner. When we got to the top of Mill Mountain we parked, got out, and walked around. Daniel jogged a little of the path around the top. The rest of us took a nice stroll, stopping for photos and just making conversation. Walking up the path back to the car, I felt some cramping in my calf and some nerve pain on the outsides of my ankles.

We took Lori back to her hotel, drove to my Dad’s, said goodnight to Amanda, and retreated to our rooms.

8:30 PM - I was ready to call it. Text to coach.

9:00 PM - In tears, torn between what’s safe, what keeps me running, what’s just irrational fear, and what is just emotion taking over. By this time, both of the twin coaches were trying to get me refocused, but I could not shake the nagging feeling that I really should not be doing this race tomorrow. Deciding not to run is agonizing for me. This time is especially difficult because it doesn’t just impact me. Daniel is looking forward to this attempt at the toughest road race in America. I get it, and I want to do it too (again), but right now I’m questioning the sanity of this attempt.

10:15 PM - Calmer. Knew I was going to at least show up for the race. Decided to get sleep and hope things look and feel better in the morning.

1:19 AM - Jolted awake by searing nerve pain throughout my lower body. By 1:40 AM everything from my waist down was on fire. By 2:00 it had traveled throughout my entire body. I had to get out of bed and move around. Then the numbness began in the typical places - face, tops of forearms, various spots along legs.

2:45 AM - The pain is easing, but now the tingling around my scalp tells me a migraine is not far away. I have now had just 3 hours of sleep, there are signs that the nerve pain and numbness will be at their highest levels of intensity again today, and I’m back to wondering if I should even attempt to run.

As a runner, pre-race anxiety is nothing new. As someone who has dealt with this crazy autoimmune neurological stuff for seven years, nothing I’m experiencing with the pain is new or different. But reconciling the two and figuring out if I can (or should) run through this is daunting.

Now that the worst of the pain has eased and there’s more numbness than pain, I’m going to attempt to get another hour to hour-and-a-half of sleep. I really hope the next blog update is a lot more cheerful and fun.

Least Expected Change of Plans

This morning was one of the most painful I've had in a long time. Every nerve in my body feels like it's on fire. I was barely able to stand, much less walk, when I got up. I had a fitful night of sleep and was awake every hour. It's been a while since I've felt this bad.

Every shooting pain reminds me of why I started on this journey again. Why I decided to run again, despite the odds. Why I decided to go full in and put the Anthem 10K and the Rock Tahoe Half on my race calendar. The fact that I can feel the pain means I am still here and still moving and able to try. The more I move the easier the pain gets. So no matter how much it hurts this morning, I know by mid-day or afternoon I'll be moving better and with less pain, so I keep moving. 

My sons and I have been enjoying the fact that they have the same free 30 minutes every morning when they get to school as I do, and we've been texting quite regularly every morning about random things. This morning the discussion was what to pack for this weekend in Roanoke, as both boys have decided to go with me. 

Daniel then started his own conversation with me. He asked if he'd be running a 5K this weekend. I explained there wasn't one, but he could do the 1 mile if he wanted. He asked what I was doing. I told him 10K. He asked if he could do it with me. I explained that it is a very difficult run, the first 3.5 is up a mountain, the second 2.5 is down a mountain, and that he could not sprint this or try to win this. He expressed his understanding of all of this but said he still wanted to do the race with me.

So, it looks like I'll have a running partner for the 10K. Not one I ever dreamed of having - but SO excited about it.

How Did We Get Here?!

I cannot believe there's only two more days and then race day!!!

How on earth did we get here so fast?! These past four months have flown by, though at times they definitely seemed to be creeping by. Slowly. Really slow on some days (miles).

So where am I medically and physically going into this race?

Not where I wanted to be. But so much further than I was four months ago.

The past few days have been very painful. The nerves are not liking the current heat wave. Yesterday's run was excruciatingly painful, and had to be cut short. Tonight's run hurt a lot - but it was more manageable than yesterday. Right now I want to go sit in a bathtub full of ice to numb it all.

I had an MRI  yesterday. Achilles seems to have healed. Doctors are pretty sure it's all nerve stuff from the autoimmune neurological mess again.

Medically I am still getting a green light and told to enjoy the race. I go for three more follow-ups with three different doctors/specialists next week when I get back. No end to that fun in sight.

I've noticed a huge difference in my running and level of pain based on the weather. It's been enlightening and frustrating at the same time.

Despite the pain, I'm ready to run. I've had a bunch of ups and downs emotionally in the past couple of weeks, as notification after notification of more responders dying from 9/11 have come through, and as I was contacted regarding the lack of WTC care in TN. I am so incredibly thankful for the people like John Feal who are out there fighting for us. I honestly could not fight on my own. It's all I can do to get through the constant medical exams and treatments, get up each day and get everyone up and out the door on time, go to work and do the best I can to do my job, come home and take care of my family, house, yard and daily life, and squeeze run training in on top of it. Running has become my therapy again. Some days it hurts like crazy - but it still helps with the emotional healing. Some days it is wonderful - and those highs get me through a lot of the darker days. I have this insane group of people, including my coach and one of my best friends, who have kept me laughing through it all the past week, and I've noticed how much better my attitude has been because of it. I'm so grateful for them and their friendship.

So, physically, I think (and am almost certain) I can survive the 10K up and down Mill Mountain - but I don't think it's going to be easy or as fun as I'd hoped this year would be. Emotionally - I'm ready and thankful I can run.

Now... as far as packing, knowing what I'm wearing on race day or being ready to actually drive four hours to Roanoke and get through race weekend.... I've got some work to do. Guess I should go get started.

Water Recovery

I love the pool. I love swimming. I love water.

I was feeling a lot of aches and soreness from yesterday's run. My back, my legs, my abs, my arms (?!) and my whole body hurt. But by noon, all I wanted to do was go to the pool and relax.

I grabbed my pool bag, got my girls ready, and the three of us headed to the gym. The indoor pool was almost completely empty. Yay. I knew the outside pool was open, but it was a little cold, and I wanted the comfort of the indoor heated pool. I let the girls go do their thing and started swimming some easy laps. Within the first few laps I felt the muscles relaxing and my mind calming.

With every stroke, I relaxed more and felt the anxiety, stress, doubts, fears, worries, and frustration leave my mind. I also felt the muscles as they effortlessly propelled my body in the familiar motions through the water.

There is some powerful healing that comes from water. It has always been a soother of my soul. I don't know why I don't spend more time at the pool or at the lake.

Oh - that's right. It's because my time is already so limited that it is nearly impossible to squeeze in time to go be in or on the water. But - summer's coming. I will definitely have to work on the water time this summer.

38 minutes and 1400 yards later, I was wiped out. But in a good way. I got out, dried off, called for my girls to get out of the pool, and spent a few minutes talking to a couple of the swim coaches. By the time I got home, I felt like a new person. A very tired person, but so much more "chill."

We spent a lazy evening as I got things together for the week of work & school, figured out lesson plans for an upcoming unannounced observation, and got the boys birthday banners hung.

I'd almost completely relaxed when everything came crashing down around me. I just took a deep breath, sighed and acknowledged that I should really enjoy those fleeting hours when they come, because they never last.

As exhausted as I was, the sudden upheaval had me wanting an outlet. I couldn't run. Shouldn't do the elliptical. But I could do something. So I worked on my arms until the point of exhaustion again. By the time I was done, and had vented to my best friend, I was ready for bed. I couldn't fix the problem tonight and was determined to forget about it. So, I got in bed and watched my fave show.

I drifted off fairly easy. But, here I am, 12:30 AM, and I'm wide awake. I'm not in the mood for continued discussion with friends, am too irritable to focus on a book or anything, and don't want to wake anyone else up. So - I decided on my next favorite go-to activity -- writing.

Now that I've poured it all out on "paper" - I'm going to try to sleep again. Of all weeks, this is not the one that needs to have disrupted sleep or crazy chaos going on. But - again - there's nothing I can do about it tonight - so off to bed again I go.

Ugh. Hills. Double ugh.

That was brutal.

That was insanely hard, frustrating and defeating.

Those hills were horrible.

But I made it 3.5 miles. Some of it was walking. Mostly walking uphill. But it was still 3.5 miles.

I managed to start off relatively slower, and my lungs were fine with the easy pace, but my legs were heavy and tired. I even managed to run most of the way up the very long hill 1. But my lungs were ON FIRE by the time I got to the top and it took forever to recover. By the time I got to the start of hill 2, I wanted to quit. My goal changed to just surviving 3 miles. I decided to walk up part of the hill. It still took forever to recover. Hill 3 almost did me in. By the time I got to the top of the street and turned to go downhill, I was exhausted. I knew I still had to make it home though. I decided to get through the downhill portion and let myself walk again when I got to the street in my neighborhood. Once I got there, walked a minute, and started running again, I felt somewhat better. I ran a tiny bit up the last hill and instead of turning towards home, felt like I could go ahead and run a little more. So my 3.0 turned into 3.5. I felt much better at the end of the run than I did on the hills, but it was still very difficult, and definitely didn't feel great.

I cannot stop wondering what's going to happen next Saturday. These hills were 1/10 of what I'm going to be doing going up Mill Mountain. Everyone keeps telling me I'll be fine, and I'll be ready, and I'll do great, but I can't get my own brain to wrap around those thoughts. All I see is the giant struggle trying to do little hills here and struggling to get through 3.5 miles.

Tomorrow's another rest day, but I can swim if I want. I'll be lucky if I can move or walk tomorrow. I'm definitely going to feel this run.

3.5 miles; 44:20; lots of uphill; 12:43 pace
11:51, 13:11, 12:22, 6:35

Breakthrough or Breaking?

All day long I fought a sinus headache, nerve pain, fatigue and some irritability. I thought I was supposed to feel better after a rest day. Nonetheless, I headed out for a 2 mile run. I thought I was holding back and wasn't going too fast, and actually felt like I was going in slow motion, but my lungs protested and begged to differ. My legs felt great. But my lungs burned the entire time. I knew at the end of the 2 miles, there was no way I could have held that pace another minute, much less another mile. I knew I needed to figure out how to slow down and hold back. I have no idea how I'm going to make it 3 miles tomorrow, much less 6 miles next Saturday, if I can't figure out how to pace myself.

I ended up going 2.07 in 22:13, with a 10:43 average pace.

My coach's reaction was about what I expected. We came up with a plan for me to add some hills tomorrow to slow me down and mimic next week's race a little more closely. I'm not sure how I'm going to survive 3 miles, especially with hills, but I guess we'll see.

The good news is - I felt much better after my run than I did before it!

Better Together

Group Run has grown on me. I've found that even when I can't keep up or have to stop earlier than the others, I still enjoy that time with other runners. Tonight I only did 2 miles as promised, and it was tough to get through those two. My lungs are still trying to catch up with my legs. But, I kept a good pace near 11 min/mile and got through the entire 2 running. Progress.

Gradual increase

Today's goal - hold back and run slower than yesterday - but go a further distance.

Check.

1.52 miles in 16:50; 11:07 pace

I'm okay with that.

Especially because I was able to run the entire 1.5 without a walk break (though it was a lot more difficult than yesterday), and there was no pain or numbness.

I'm not where I was or where I want to be with the race 11 days away - but all things considered - I'm good. I'm just happy to be able to run again.

Tomorrow I attempt to go back to the group run - but I've already promised to not try to keep up with the fast kids and do my own 2 miles. Then - Thursday - I don't think I'm going to complain that it says "rest day" on my schedule.

GREEN LIGHT!!!

My morning started off as crazy as it possibly could have. It was insane. My ortho appointment got moved from 3:30 PM to 10:30 AM. I had an IEP meeting at 8:30 that I knew was going to take a while. I needed to catch my coach up on the sudden battery of tests and things my doctor was doing, I needed to catch up with my co-teachers. But all I could do was rush to my meeting, rush out the door to the doctor, blindside my coach from the waiting room (still cringing), and rush back to work and finish my work day.

So... about the doctors. The ortho decided to do the x-ray and MRI as planned. There was no structural damage to my leg or foot. No muscle issues. No bone issues. The ortho agreed with my doctor that not running for 12 days after running 4-5 days a week likely caused the nerve flare up. It’s also likely the Achilles injury inflammed some nerves and tissues. For now, they are going to wait on the nerve conduction study. They want me to get back into my running routine. They think the peroneal nerve is slightly compressed, but that once I get going again, it will decompress itself. They ruled out road impact causing any of this. They encouraged me to keep swimming, try biking, and stretch and ice as needed. But, the ortho said he wanted me to run. He also gave me some new “rules” for running. There are several more things I have to be on the lookout for, but I can, and should run. I asked a billion questions. The ortho my doc sent me to was as awesome as she is. He took his time and answered every question. He had a very calming voice and was very thorough. He has obviously dealt with a lot of athletes. He also understood the 9/11-neurotoxin exposure chaos, and knew I was not going to be a textbook case. He carefully outlined my med plan, which includes another MRI, a potential muscle reactory exam (ouch), the potential for a nerve conduction study later down the road, and possible decompression of the nerve if it doesn’t decompress itself. By the time I left I felt my doctors had this entire mess under control and I really was okay to run. But, it’s funny, doctor says okay to run, ortho says okay to run, coach says okay to run, and then I say “I don’t want to run! It’s going to hurt!” After days (weeks) of begging to hurry up and let me run. Go figure.

I relayed all of the new rules to my coach, who had no concerns about following them, and we made a tentative training plan and discussed race plans. Then I freaked out. Race day in 12 days... there’s no way I can be ready for 6.2 miles, including 3 uphill. Coach was much more confident than me.

The plan was volleyball tonight, first run tomorrow, but volleyball got canceled, so that led to... 1 mile run today.

Gulp.

I was literally trembling. I was terrified to run. What if they were wrong? What if the Achilles tears? What if the ankle hurts? What if the nerve pain and paresthesia get worse? What if I can’t run? What if I can’t go a mile? It took 3 months to get me to 4.5 miles. There’s no way I can be ready for 6.2 in 12 days. Why should I risk it?

As I fired questions at myself, I got my running clothes on. Pulled back my hair. Laced up the sneakers. Put on my watch. Walked out the door. Took a hundred deep breaths. Hit start. Began running. My watch beeped “ahead of pace.” Slowed down. Tried to hold back and settle into comfortable, slow rhythm. Focused on watching every step and regulating my breathing. Didn’t look at watch again. Felt legs burning a little. Felt lungs burning. No pain. No numbness. Kept running. Got to turn back. Debated a walk break. Neighbor at end of road was at mailbox... turned and said, “You’re looking great. Good to see you back.” I managed a smile, a thank you, and a “have a great evening “ reply. I kept running. I kept smiling. I turned back into the neighborhood. Smiled bigger. Turned on our block. Heard my kids screaming “Mom’s running!” Heard watch beep 1 mile. Looked at watch. Burst into tears. While still smiling huge like a fool. I’m so glad I went for a run. The top and side of my ankle were tender and sore, but no pain. I ran my entire first mile back!

1.01 in 10:14

What?!?!

I thought I was running cautiously. I thought I was holding back. How was I faster?!

I went inside, grabbed a water and my giant ice pack. Plugged in my watch to upload data. Text my coach even though I knew he was busy at track. Cried again.

This is what caused the second round of happy tears...

 

I can’t stop smiling.

But... I can breathe  again.