Long run Sunday

We're just going to pretend I didn't disappear from this blog for 3 months, 'k?

I haven't been running too much lately. A combination of leftover trauma to my lungs from February's pneumonia, lack of a running buddy and good old sloth had me going 2 weeks, after the Oakland Half Marathon, without running a step. So of course to make up for it I jumped right in with both feet (because otherwise I'd have fallen over on my face) and decided to run 11 miles this morning.

That was made a little more challenging by my somewhat excessive consumption of alcohol and food yesterday. Not only was it the monthly knitting Saturday at Walnut Creek Yacht Club (including some truly excellent blush wine of which I did not drink an entire bottle, despite having been accused of such), but afterward I met my family for another very merry unbirthday party. A fabulous meal and a couple of dangerous The Fourth Regiment cocktails later and I was feeling just fine.

I didn't sleep well last night, thanks to the celebration, but I knew I was getting up to run. It was a beautiful morning; crisp and clear. I met Anita for the anticipated 11 mile trek to Moraga Commons and back and something happened. I felt, dare I say it, great. I was running very slowly but steadily, breathing well, feeling loose. Everything around us was spring; the trees were blooming or leafing out, the grasses and weeds were that delightful shade of green, poppies were waving their bright orange heads in the sun.

So I decided that I wanted to run to the top of the hill, just to see the area while it was still the gorgeous green. Of course, that meant adding a few miles. We decided we'd walk up the biggest hills and run the rest and we headed onward.

The waterfall was still pouring down and we paused to admire the water-bred rainbow. We ran to the Commons and continued past. As we started going up the big hill we saw it: the Easter Bunny! Well, maybe he wasn't the official EB, he was very small and fluffy looking, and didn't seem to have a basket filled with eggs. But he was our first bunny sighting of spring. Right afterward we saw our first butterfly of spring too.

The view from the top of the hill was as spectacular as we thought it would be. Everywhere were shades of spring green, one of the loveliest spectrum of colors around. Since we were there already, we ran to the end of the trail. At that point we knew we had 7 miles left to go.

We ran along, yelling at the cows grazing on the hills, pointing out the red tail hawks circling in the sky (be careful, little bunny!) guessing names of the flowers and trees. Yeah, we got tired. But we kept running, keeping mostly to our original 9:1 run:walk. Maybe by mile 12 it was getting to more like 8:2. But we kept running. And continued running past our cars because I like round numbers. Sure, we could have rounded up from 14.68 miles. But we'd feel much better to have that true 15 miles under our belts.

Oddly enough, nothing hurt afterward except for some chafing from my capri seams (and as for that, owie owie). Lungs ok, legs ok, feet ok, back ok, sinuses ok. I was hot and tired, sweaty and stinky, but I felt good. Amazingly good.

So it looks like I have to keep running, and running long runs, whether or not Anita is available. I need to run by myself during the week, whether or not I have company. It just feels too good not to.

Once more, starting over again. Again.

Sometimes I think I should just rename this blog "Another New Start." Apparently I'm not that great at follow-through and I'm pretty shabby at keeping up with my plans to change my life and improve my health.

After I ran my last marathon I told myself I HAD to make 2 changes before I ran another. First I needed to cut my hair since it was heavy and hot, slapping me on the back and the arms and spraying water everywhere and just an annoyance I didn't need. That was easily taken care of (although if it had been that easy, why did I wait for 8 months between cuts?). Less easy was my second issue which was to lose 10 pounds and get in better running shape. That's where I have to start over.

On Monday I did something I haven't done since I was married: I joined a gym. Yup, the woman who has her own workout room with treadmill and exercycle and weights and a step. The woman who as 3 -- count 'em, 3 -- bicycles in her garage. That woman: me. I not only joined a gym, I joined a gym that will cost me a lot of money. All so that I can pay even more money to work with a personal trainer. In the morning. Before work. At 6:00 am. Holy Early Riser, Batman!

It was Claudia's fault. Just like when I joined the tri team and when I joined the century team. Heh. Way to take some personal responsibility, Amy. Actually, it's all on me with just some friendly assist from Claudia. See, she gets up in the middle of the night and drives to the gym and works out with a trainer. If I had someone to meet I'd actually show up too. Especially if I have to pay for it. So she escorted me to her gym (which is 5 minutes from my house), introduced me to her trainer, and now I'm committed to not only paying the money, but to showing up. And by showing up, to work my ass off.

And since it doesn't make much sense to get back on the regular exercise wagon without paying attention to my food intake, I've started keeping a food diary and counting points. By writing it down I can see exactly how much I'm stuffing in my mouth and get a handle on controlling my out-of-control diet.

I think we all know I'm not good at dealing with new and uncomfortable situations. My anxiety level is through the roof right now (full disclosure: not all of it is due to the gym/trainer, some is due to family). My normal sleeplessness has degraded even further. Even though I'm awake at 5:30 am (... and 4:30 ... and 3:30 ...) I find I'm too weary to get up and run, although I'll be getting up and meeting the trainer twice weekly. When I get home from work I'm so pooped I just want to nap, again getting in the way of my running. The biggest thing I'm going to have to change in my life is to convince myself that even if I'm exhausted, I still have to get in my workouts. Regularly and constantly. Otherwise I'll be back here in 4 months starting over again.

Thrice

I was quiet last month, hmmm? As it is, I think I posted as much as I ran. No reasons for either, just excuses that I won't re-babble. Busy and tired but nothing that more activity and more posting wouldn't have helped. February will show improvement; that's my story and I'm stickin' to it!

A very nice thing happened yesterday: the sun came out. I am such a creature of brightness and the last couple of dark gloomy months have made me want to hibernate. This is the same every winter and usually at the end of January I shake myself and tell myself to snap out of it, dammit! So now that it's February I'm going to snap out of it, dammit!

I've been reading, I've been knitting, I've been eating, I've been napping and working and most of all I've been helping my mom get settled. She's doing well, or wellish, and turning her rather institutional apartment into a glorious, comfortable museum setting. But since it's a new facility she is just about the only resident. She's certainly the only person on her floor, so she's lonely. I'm filing the roles of daughter, friend and confidant as well as packer, mover, sorter, carter and the usual bookkeeper, mail clerk, health insurance coordinator.

During a long talk I told my mom that I miss my old life. The greatest thing in my life is my friends and I've been neglecting most of them for months. Yes, I mean you. You too. My email friends and my phone friends and my running friends and my knitting friends. I miss socializing. I miss going out for a run and chatting for hours. I miss having a glass of good wine with a good friend. I miss having a stitch 'n' bitch at my house. I miss going to bed and sleeping soundly the entire night -- oh wait, I never did that. I miss my routine.

So that's the goal. Reconnect. Write call visit entertain. Less time napping, more time conversing. What do you think?

Looking forward

A year ago I was filled with hope and positive thoughts and visions. I hadn't much enjoyed 2008 and was sure 2009 would be a vast improvement. It was not.

People look back on this past decade and are doing best-of and worst-of lists and I don't even have to go to the way-back machine for that. Best-of for me was running my first marathon, then my second marathon, then finding through running a group of the best friends I've had in my life. Worst-of for me was family and health related, including losing my dad to cancer and almost losing my mom to dementia and over-medication. For the most part the best and worst are evenly balanced with one or the other periodically tipping the scales.

I only have one resolution for the next year and next decade, and indeed, the rest of my life. Too many years I've resolved to eat less or eat better or exercise more or start lifting weights or be less cynical or c'mon be happy and I'm tired of circumstances giving me an excuse to ignore those goals. I've found I have very little control over most of my life and most plans I've made for the past couple of years ended up getting shot to hell, so spontaneity will become part of me whether I enjoy it or not.

I do indeed plan to at least mentally register for a marathon, to set up a training schedule with runs and Wii's and rides and even weight lifting. I doubt I'll be exercising or engaging in any physical activity every day but I will again make it a habit instead of an oddity. I also plan to cut the crap out of my diet again, mostly because I feel better when I eat healthier choices. I'm not saying I'll totally give up popcorn, wine and ice cream for dinner but it will become a rarity instead of a usual meal. I will also not berate myself when circumstances have me chewing my nails as both a meal and an activity. Life happens and I'll adjust.

There's only one commitment, one goal, one resolution that I feel I can hold to. Indeed, I must hold to. I'd be happy if each and every one of my readers adopts the same goal, convinces others to share this goal:

WEAR MORE SUNSCREEN!

I hope you all have a happy end to this crappy year and a wonderful start to the new one!

It's raining, it's pouring

I'm hoping this will be a heavy, short storm that passes through the area by the middle of the night. I'm going to run long tomorrow morning and don't have happy thoughts of running on piles of wet leaves. Slippery and I don't go together.

My great plan for being back on track went all to crap again. I started the week well and just ... let's just say I tapered and leave it at that. I've been eating well so that balances it a teensy bit but this isn't particularly the way to stay healthy or not get fatter.

I've been knitting again, recently on a stupid, fun project. My little pre-teen nephew asked me if I would knit him a hat and how could I refuse that face? I asked what type and he said he wanted one where he could swing the top around in circles. Yeaaaaah. He doesn't want a long tapering point, more like a hat with a ball on the end of a string. Oooooookay. At least he said he wanted it in red. And black. So I'm knitting with colors I like and knew that I had in the house. I discovered some hand-me-down nasty acrylic worsted weight yarns in my stash and was happy not to have to waste my Malabrigo on what seems to be a joke hat.

A couple of weeks ago I cast on for a basic 2x2 rib hat. I was at the end of the decreases when I convinced myself that the damn thing would be too big for a jumbo pumpkin and there was no way to fix it. I ripped it back and started over on a smaller size. Again, 2x2 rib but this time only on the brim and plain old stockinette for the rest of it. I made the decrease on the pointy side and instead of binding off at the end I did an I-cord for about 10 inches. Now I'm trying to decide whether to make the pompom attached or whether to bind off the I-cord and do maybe 2 small pompoms and attach them. At this rate my nephew should be getting his hat just about in time for spring thaw.

Running and eating

I've been doing too little of one and too much of the other. Care to guess which is which? Alrighty, then!

I managed to go almost 2 weeks with close to no running, no cross training, no core work, no strength work. Any excuses I can come up with are exactly that, excuses. I was tired, I had a visitor, I was busy, wah wah wah. Shoulda run no matter what.

To make up for lost time I thought running 10 miles on Saturday would be an excellent idea. Thought that right up until my alarm went off Saturday morning. The reason I need friends to run with me is that I will not, unless sick as a dog, cancel out on them. I was supposed to meet Bree and Sandy (yes! she's in town for a short visit!) for this 10 miler so meet them I did. I'd like to say that once out of bed I was much livelier but that wouldn't be true.

The 10 miler turned into an 8 miler, which I considered a success since I really only wanted to run 6. It was a beautiful day running through the leaves on the Lafayette-Moraga Trail. I don't like running on leaves since they're slippery and hide pavement faults, but I kept an eye on the ground and only tripped once. I felt quite righteous once we finished. And quite tired too. I'm glad we didn't push those extra 2 miles because that would have been asking for injury or a tumble. Next week! Er, next week on the extra miles, not the tumbling.

I was pretty horrified at how badly I was wiped out from the run. I'm hoping that memories of that will keep me more honest with my workouts. Since I fully intend to keep my weekend runs at the 10-15 mile range I need to keep up with the the daily ones too. I'm pretty sure that when they say you should do an average of 40 minutes activity each day, they don't mean to do it all at one time and slack off the other 6 days.

Today my bro and I took my mom out for lunch. We had a fun, wacky, silly time (not to mention some great food). Because she dislikes the food at the Place, my mom looks forward to the weekend meals out. Also, before all this started she frequently went to restaurants and she misses that. My bro and I are always on the lookout for my mom's newest favorite place (it changes each time she has a great meal somewhere). When my mom went to the ladies room my bro and I remarked on how we had thought the days of my mom being bright and intentionally funny were gone. It's remarkable and great to have her back.

Of course, that also means that I only have 1 day on the weekend to get my regular chores out of the way. And that means that mostly they don't get done. A little laundry, and little grocery shopping, a bill or two paid. The rest of it I put aside and hope I have enough energy during the week to do everything else after work. Normally I don't, but somehow the essentials are getting done. The biggest essential, taking care of my mom, gets first priority. Cleaning house or gardening just don't seem quite so important any longer.

Moving and moving on

This summer my family was told by several doctors, in many specialties, that my mom would never recover from her hospital-caused mistaken over-drugging that led to psychosis and dementia. They said she might improve but she'd never be back to how she started, the day she was taken to the emergency room. They expected little cognitive and only partial physical rehabilitation. I'm quite happy to say they were full of shit.

These days my mom is living in a dementia oriented assisted living facility. When she was initially discharged from hospital #3 and delivered to her room she was confused, weak, slightly agitated. She spent most of her time the next couple of weeks in her own room; she had had enough of the 24 hour sitters watching her every move. When she did go into the common areas she didn't engage with the other inmates residents and in fact was frightened and creeped out by many of their behaviors (understandably). She had difficulty transitioning from sitting to standing and was assisted with many day-to-day tasks. After constant adjustment of her medications, physical therapy and time she is almost the same as she was back in June.

Almost, not quite. In some ways she's physically stronger than she was then. If she's not tired she moves well with a walker (and is actually willing to use it most of the time), she can walk stairs easier than she did, her endurance has increased. Her memory of the time when she "was someone else" is thankfully blank. When she tries to remember things from then we try to dissuade her since it was such an ugly time. Her short-term memory has suffered and her long-term memory isn't quite as sharp, but she's still improving so that may change.

All that means it's time for her to move on. When we placed her in the facility we were told something to the effect of when you move in, you don't ever move out. People don't recover from dementia, they just get worse. But when the dementia is in large part created by chemicals it can be reversed. My mom wants to get out of the "nuthouse" and away from the "crazy people." And we agree that she needs surroundings that are more stimulating and more open.

Now we're looking for a new home. She can't live on her own, she needs help with medications and meals and cleaning, and really needs someone to periodically check on her to make sure she is ok. She's willing to give up her independence to a point, but still wants to be able to come and go at her own whim. That's fine, but she can't drive again and that will be limiting (although she still has hopes that she'll improve enough that we'll return her car keys) (which won't happen). The type of place we want is an assisted living facility that also has transitional areas for nursing care and dementia care. Those places are few and far between.

My bro and I took my mom to see one such place yesterday. We had dinner in their very nicely appointed dining room (tablecloths and linen napkins and wait-staff included!), toured the spacious building, common spaces and activity rooms, watched some of the residents as they interacted and then looked at the personal rooms. They were small.

My mom moved last year from a very large crowded home, with a 1000 square foot living room, to her current 2 bedroom smaller unit. Now she's looking at something under 600 square feet total and she's freaking out. She has so much "stuff" that it'll never fit into something so small and she loves all her "stuff." Yes, her "stuff" is mostly incredible; antiques, rarities, collectibles, folk-art from around the world. But it's just "stuff." Until she's willing to part with some of it, she won't be able to move. Until we find a place that fits all of the family's criteria, and all of hers, she remains with the people she's fondly calling "crazy." Hopefully she'll get enough of crazy that she'll adjust her hopes and we can find an affordable, lovely, comfortable, stimulating and safe place that is acceptable to us all.

That was quick

I had a fabulous vacation. It was great to get away, my first do-nothing vacation in ... in ... in I can't remember how long. Most of my vacations involve running marathons which, although they're my favorite thing to do, aren't restful. In fact, they involve a certain amount of stress. Likewise my vacations with or visiting relatives. There is nobody in the world that I'd rather spend time with than my sis and I'd gladly spend each and every vacation and day off I have with her. But those don't tend to be restful vacations.

Vegas was 100% stress free and I accomplished my entire goal: nothing. My brain rested and for the first time in well over a year I didn't have a painful burning in my gut. I even slept, very unusual for any time, let alone in a hotel.

We sat in the sun, slathered with SPF 675 (or something like that) sunscreen, sipping frozen over-sized fruity alcoholic concoctions and watching all the (surgically and cosmetically enhanced) beautiful people. Lots of crispy critters, some even applying suntan lotion. I didn't know they made that any longer; why not just spray yourself with PAM and get it over with?

We went to an off-Strip salon and got nice, but short-lasting pedicures. We walked a couple of miles in flip flops (objects in the distance are further than they seem) (and, ouch). We played slots (you notice I don't say "we gambled" because my gambling luck is nonexistent and I just do it for entertainment). Bree played a bit of poker while I stayed away so that my negative luck didn't rub off on her.

Meals were whenever, whatever we wanted. Sometimes we split things, other times we each found something special we just had to eat. We only had two meals each day but they were winners each time. From the Reuben (my annual beef-fest), to the Puck pizza and salad, to the mussels to the "S" pretzel, I enjoyed every bite. And every sip.

One morning we got up early, way early, and went for a 4+ mile run along the Strip. The weather was perfect for running and my breathing was the best it's been for ages. It was fun seeing the early morning people and the surprising number of other runners. The early morning workout made us feel virtuous and allowed to indulge the rest of the day. Fine, we probably burned 300 calories and then consumed 3000 but that wasn't the point.

Our biggest splurge was going to see "The Showgirl Must Go On" with the Divine Miss M. We had close-up but slightly off center seats to watch Bette Midler , the Harlettes and a chorus of showgirls put on a big gaudy Las Vegas performance. It was worth every cent we paid, and maybe even more than that. We would have preferred that the loud, pushy, opinionated heartland woman sitting with her minions behind us would have shut her mouth, but at least she didn't talk during the show. The glitter, the songs, the sets, the dancing, the wheelchairs, the mermaids, the laughs; it was all there.

But good times couldn't last forever. Within hours of stepping off the plane my breathing got worse, the burning restarted in my stomach, my brain started spinning and I resumed my normal insomnia. I washed everything I had with me to remove the smoke odor, put everything away and it was as if I had never left.

An almost 10 mile run on Saturday helped me relax but the rest of the day was the same as all my weekends and the relaxation didn't last. Nobody said it would be easy. Now it's time to start serious training for our next event, the one after that and the one after that. Setting goals and reaching them, moving on to the next, not punishing myself for any setbacks.

It sure was fun escaping real life for a short time. Now, I need a vacation.

That running thing

For the past few months (if by "few" I mean "15") I haven't done a whole lot of running. Mostly not by choice, there was the knee (then back then stomach then century) thing that got in the way. Now that the century is finished I want to get back to my first love, running. So far (knock on wood) it hasn't made my knee or back any worse so I'm ramping up the mileage in anticipation of summer half marathons.

Saturday morning I ran 6 miles. In all honesty it was "ran 3-1/2 miles, staggered 1/2 mile, stopped to chat with my very first running partner (whom I hadn't seen for a year) for a half hour, then ran the last 2 miles." If they made races where you could take a long breather I'd be doing aces! As it is, my endurance is very suspect. Being spring I've got the whole allergy/asthma problem on most days and being spring in the valley I have the whole wind problem. As chronicled many other times I have problems breathing when there's wind blowing into my face. I think it all comes down to this being a WAH WAH WAH quitcher whining, get over it, cut out the damn excuses situation.

So where was I? Right, with the "6 mile" run. I felt very good afterward, not a single ache, pain or spasm. My head felt good, my legs felt good, my back felt good. So Sunday I went for an easy 4 mile run. It went well enough (if you don't count the wheezing) for about 3-1/2 miles when all of a sudden I felt I was going to puke. I got over that after walking slowly for a short bit, then ran the rest of the way. Despite that, I felt like it had been a good run.

Good mostly because Sandy was back in town running with me. It had been a long long time since we had run together, a long time since we had talked, a long time since we'd seen each other. Maybe I was out of breath because I wouldn't shut up. Or maybe I was pushing myself to keep up with her. But it felt like old times and was great having her here and running with her.

Now I need to make a schedule. For now I don't particularly want to run 2 days in a row, at least until I'm sure no body parts are going to be falling off or getting inflamed. My fantasy schedule has me running long on Saturdays, cycling on Sunday, lower body toning on Monday morning, running after work on Tuesday and Thursday and walking on Wednesday. Somewhere I have to stick in swimming as I want to restart that too. Since I'm running directly after work I could possibly swim after that (the pool doesn't open for adult lap swim until late), but it wouldn't be a high quality swim unless I only ran short. In that fantasy schedule I'm also doing core exercises on a daily basis and doing knee therapy exercises a few times weekly and finding time to maybe do some upper body strengthening.

When did my fantasies start to involve so much WORK?

Moving along

One of the prettiest places in the Bay Area, in my opinion, is the Nimitz Trail at Inspiration Point. So it stands to reason that I'd take my sis and bro-in-law for a walk there while they were visiting. I've dragged them up there before but I can't help showing off the beauty of where I live. The one fly in the ointment is the vast number of cows hanging out on the trail.

Anita met us there Saturday morning for a scheduled 4+ mile walk. Seriously, the length of the walk would be determined by cowage. It was a crisp, clear morning and we could see for miles. Anita and I had fun pointing out our favorite sights and probably got a bit annoying with our enthusiasm. I mean, how many times can someone listen to someone else gushing about the view of the Bay? Or the view of the bridges? Or the view of San Francisco? Or the view of the valley with Briones Reservoir glistening in the sunlight? Or the blue wildflowers (which we still are unable to identify)? Or the poppies or the bunnies or the eagles? Come to think of it, I'm surprised they didn't just take off running and leave us behind.

As we got close to the 2 mile marker we could see a large herd of cows off to the side but they were behind a fence. Except for one lost mama standing on our side of the fence right next to the trail. I hid behind my companions and made it past, but then we turned the corner and realized that another herd was on our side of the fence. Next to the trail. On the trail. Surrounding the trail. I thought I could suck it up, but decided it wasn't worth the adrenaline rush so we turned around just before the 2-1/2 mile marker. I'm glad we did, both to keep the encownters to a minimum but also because by the time we finished, my legs were tired from the hills.

On Sunday the three of us wanted to actually get in a run so we decided on the pancake flat Iron Horse Trail. We decided a half hour out, half back. I warned them about the grade on the trail; it's much easier going out than returning. My sis took off and my BIL steadily increased the distance between the two of us. I was trying to go easily but I'm having consistent difficulties with my legs going faster than my lungs can suck in air.

To purposely slow myself down I was run:walking a 9:1, and checking Mr. Garmin regularly to make sure I didn't speed up. Despite that I was tired at 2 miles and decided that 4 miles would be a good workout, even if it was shorter than an hour. I turned around and headed back up (literally up) the trail and discovered for myself how much harder it was in that direction. But it was a beautiful morning, clear and bright and sunny and cool and breezy, and I was determined to enjoy myself.

I finished my run with about a 12:15 average. Not too bad, not too good. The last half averaged about 15 seconds per mile slower than the first, a little slower than I had expected. Afterward I was tired but also had that "hey I'm a runner again" feeling.

Slowly I'm getting it back. Slowly I'll increase my consistency. Slowly I'll run and slowly I'll re-convince myself that indeed I can run distances. Slow isn't that bad if at least I'm moving forward.

Sigh

I realized this morning that I'm quickly becoming a regular visitor in the land of Slothville. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I might even be moving there if I wasn't spending so much time in Gluttonia. My workouts are missing, my eating habits have deteriorated, my body feels like sluggish sludge. Nice.

One little backache (maybe not so little) and I feel I have a license to join the rest of the country in Sofatown. I know quite well how quickly I adjust to my natural state of rest. I'm so slow when I'm active that it's often hard to tell the difference between when I'm moving or not, but there really is a difference.

I think I need to schedule some challenging, scary event where strength and stamina are involved (even a half marathon would work). Working toward Chicago Marathon just gives me too much time to put off any focus. I need to start spending my extra time in Healthland with visits to Goodchoices.

You'd think by now I'd have learned how hard it is to make a comeback.