A Very Good Day

It's good news!

My ortho appointment yesterday went very well. Better than I expected. I was resigned to the fact that I would not be running any time soon and that after that morning, I might not even be allowed to bike for the foreseeable future. I was nervous, scared and already trying to figure out how I'd deal with the worst case scenario.

That wait in the doctor's lobby seemed endless.

My friend Sherry generously offered to go with me to the appointment, an offer I gladly took her up on. I figured that it would be good to have someone keep me company and she might think to ask questions I didn't and remember stuff I wouldn't.

The doctor did a quick exam of my range of movement and asked me if various positions hurt and if the pain moved to any places. After hearing all my answers and asking me to pinpoint where I normally felt the pain, he gave me about the best news I'd ever heard. My malady was not serious and easily treatable.

This is how I felt when I heard that.

The diagnosis was bursitis around the trochanter (a fancy name for part of the hip bone).  It could be treated fairly quickly with some anti-inflammatories, stretches and some rest. I got an injection of an anti-inflammatory directly into my hip and would be getting a prescription for a special compounded topical ointment. After 1 or 2 sessions with my PT, and a few weeks, I should be able to try running again.

There are parameters to my recovery though: I am only supposed to run 1/3 of the mileage I normally would when I first start back. I need to reduce the intensity of my runs (if only he knew how non-intense they were already....) and I was not allowed to run back to back days for quite some time. But given all that, I was given the go-ahead to return to running when it felt comfortable.

It was at this time that I handed the doctor a list I had written down prior to my appointment. On it were all the races I was already signed up for, with their dates and distances. I leaned over him as he read it, pointed to the first race and said, "I've already accepted that I can't run this one. And possibly not the 2nd one either. The big priority is being OK for Dopey in January, but I'd love to be able to still run the Chicago Rock N Roll in July." He looked up from the list and said with a good deal of confidence that he thought I had very realistic goals.

I could have hugged him right then.

I was also comforted by the fact that he said I should feel better fairly soon and if I didn't to call him back and we'd try something else. He didn't expect surgery to even be a thought as the labral tear that showed up on my MRI was not the cause of my pain and was something we didn't even have to think about any time soon.

It's amazing how much better I feel already - only one day after the injection. But I must admit that though I feel mostly relief, a part of me is worried that the doctor is wrong and I'm still going to be in pain. Much experience has taught me that it's never easy to diagnose anything with me, and it's even harder to find an effective treatment. So for the last day and a half, I've been walking around trying to concentrate on how my hip feels. Did stepping up onto that curb cause a twinge? Did I feel a little something when I walked down the hall? Is that soreness the expected result of the shot or is it something else? I find myself constantly taking inventory of everything that I feel coming from that part of my body.

That being said, I should be enjoying this time. Basking in the delight of not needing surgery. Returning to the excitement of planning for my upcoming races.

Yesterday was a good day. A very good day indeed.

Longest. Week. Ever.

It's been a week since I picked up the MRI report from the imaging center. The report that had the one ominous line that I could read amid the medical jargon. The one that read: "Suspected superior labral tear." The line that suddenly caused the year ahead of me to fade from what I had planned and prepared into one that looked empty.

The report didn't say for sure that it was definitely a tear. It didn't say how severe the suspected tear appeared to be. It didn't indicate whether a surgery would be in my future in place of the many races I had already registered for. It didn't say anything but one line that my active imagination took to a place where the worst case scenario played out in my mind all hours of the day and night.

No call came from my doctor's office to interpret the results. Not on Tuesday, the day I picked up the report myself from the imaging center. Not on Wednesday when I'd had a full day to go through a range of emotions from sad, to angry, to determined, to sad again to numb. Not on Thursday when I resorted to a pedicure and retail therapy to make me feel better and not on Friday when I finally called my doctor, learned my MRI results had been lost and I took out my frustration on the hills under the two wheels of my bike.

But none of that matters now. In less than 12 hours, I will be face to face with an orthopedic surgeon who will be able to read the report, and the scans I've been carrying around on CD for the last week. He will likely tell me how good or bad the news is and what my treatment and recovery timeline looks like. He will either assure me that I still have hope to achieve the goals I set for myself in the next months or will be the unfortunate soul that has to tell me those dreams will likely be shattered.

So now I am one sleep away from getting this news. And though I spent the last week waiting impatiently for this day to finally get here, now part of me would like a little more time. Now I simultaneously want the time to be here and want to have that week back because I'm not sure I'm ready to know any answers. And while it seems like a dramatic reaction to something that is not life-threatening, not dangerous and not even that big of a deal to so many people, it is a big deal to me right now.

There are things I've been considering doing for several years and finally I felt like I was capable to doing them so I decided to do it. When I say I'm going to do something, you better bet I will....no matter how hard, because I committed to it. But I didn't plan for that option to be taken from me, and no matter if it's out of my control or not, if I don't accomplish those things, a big part of me will feel like a failure. And that's one thing I can't stand.

In the morning, I will hop on my bike for a quick ride and then I will come home, shower and get ready for my appointment. I will have a friend with me both for moral support and to ask the questions I will probably forget to ask. I will try to deal with the results if they are bad and be thankful if they are good.

But no matter what I learn tomorrow, the longest week ever will finally be over.

A Dopey Idea

I’ve done something ridiculous. That in itself is nothing new. But this time the level of ridiculousness is rather impressive. A few weeks ago I registered for the Dopey Challenge.

For the uninitiated, the Dopey Challenge is a series of races that takes place at Walt Disney World in January. It consists of: a 5K (3.1 miles) on Thursday, a 10K (6.2 miles) on Friday, a half marathon (13.1 miles) on Saturday, and a full marathon (26.2 miles) on Sunday. That’s 48.6 miles in 4 days. I signed up to do this…on purpose. And I paid an exorbitant amount of money to do it.

Oh – and did I mention what time these races start? We toe off the line at 5:50 am. Eastern time. They require us to be in our starting corrals by 5:00. Since many of the streets in the area are closed, the shuttle buses are the best way to get to the starting line and you have to be on the bus by 4:00. Four days in a row. So in addition to putting in the miles, you’ll be doing them in a sleep deprived state.  Does this sound like fun yet?

Why exactly did I do this? I guess the easiest answer is the cliché “because it’s there.” Maybe it’s because I needed a new challenge. I’m a goal-setter and when a goal-setter doesn’t have a goal to work for, they tend to get restless. I’ve tackled half marathons, full marathons, triathlons and even a 100 mile bike ride. I guess next it was either this or an Ironman and I’m pretty sure my mom would kill me if did that. So now it’s the Dopey Challenge. And yes, I know how appropriately it is named. 

Now I am signed up for Dopey, I can’t help but think about what the next eight months of my life will be like. I imagine it will include the following:

I will want to eat all the food. When you’re doing the kind of training required for something like this, it’s not unusual to burn 2000 calories before noon. But don’t get too excited. It’s rare that you lose much weight training for a marathon because you’re hungry. All. The. Time. While I was training for my last marathon, I got in the habit of eating 2 glazed doughnuts after every run that was 8 miles or longer. So friends, stock your fridges ‘cause I’m gonna need to eat.

I will wonder why I thought this was a good idea. I’m sure more than once I will question my sanity for deciding to take on this challenge. Pre-dawn wake-up calls, arranging my weekends around my long runs, and being tired all the time will take its toll. I will dream about sleeping while I’m sleeping. I will fantasize about free time. I will have a hard time remembering what it feels like to not be sore.

I will be doing laundry like it’s my job. When you’re running as often as I’ll need to for this challenge, you’re going to go through a lot of laundry. As I was in the final stages of training for my most recent half marathon, I had two loads of clean laundry sitting waiting to be folded and put away and another load ready to go in. And this is just for me. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t consider just buying new clothes to put off doing another load of laundry. That method worked in college.

It’s very possible I will lose body parts. Well, not the important ones. I have been known to lose a toenail or two during marathon training. It’s not a big deal, but I have grown attached to them. Literally.

People will call me crazy. Not that this doesn’t already happen on a semi-regular basis already, but I imagine the frequency and passionate delivery of such statements will increase. I don’t mind though. At this point, I kind of think of it as a compliment.

Given all the above information, though, I think it’s safe to label me as crazy. Hopefully after January 10, I’ll be Dopey too. Wish me luck!

Conquering the Pig

I have dubbed this year "The Year of the Run." Last year as I was training for my first century ride, I dubbed it "The Year of the Bike." See how clever and creative I am? In any event, this year of the run started off by trying to get back into shape after a surgery last fall that put me out of commission for a while. It's been a long road back, starting at run-walks and 13+ minute miles and slowly...oh so slowly...getting back almost where I used to be.

But anyway....back to the year of the run. This is the year of the run because of a certain set of races that take place in January. Some time ago, I decided that the best way to celebrate next year's 'significant' birthday was to attempt to complete the Dopey Challenge at Disney World, which consists of a 5K on Thursday, 10K on Friday, half marathon on Saturday and full marathon on Sunday. That's a lot of running. So in order to prepare for that, I figured I've have to put in a lot of miles and start early. Such was the situation when I decided to sign up for the Flying Pig Half Marathon in Cincinnati, a crazy hilly race that my friend Jody and her friends had decided to do.

Flying Pig is the first weekend in May, a lovely time to spend running around southwestern Ohio and northern Kentucky. Yup, that's right - one race, two states. I ran so far that I ran out of one state, into another and back again. I was so looking forward to the race weekend girls' trip and I was just about ready. My runs were going well and my times were coming down. Then a week before the race, my hip suddenly started to hurt and hurt so bad that I had to cut a run short - something I NEVER do. Panic set in and I made 2 emergency trips to the physical therapist to try to be able to complete my race. One of my treatments left my hip bruised and battered but if I got me through 13 hilly miles 48 hours later, it would be well worth it.

Race weekend came and I was not at all sure I'd be able to run all those miles. 13 miles on my bruised hip was going to be hard enough. But 13 hilly miles was another thing altogether. I decided to give it a try. Taking to heart my friends' warnings to listen to my body and be cautious about how much I pushed it, I met up with a group of awesome runners and we headed out. We headed to packet pickup as soon as we got to town and I could tell an hour or so in that my hip was not holding up well. I tried not to let that stop me from having fun so we explored the expo before heading to a carb-loading feast.

After dinner we headed back to hotel for an early evening in preparation for a 5:30 wake up call. Thankfully, my friend Jody is a wonderful licensed massage therapist and generously offered to work on my hip. Unfortunately, she found knots not only in my hip and glutes but also all the way down my IT band. She did what she could and I managed not to scream too much.

Race morning came and I used the foam roller to loosen up my hip and leg as much as possible. Satisfied I was as ready as I was going to be, we headed out the door to meet the other ladies in our entourage. I felt pretty good walking the half mile or so to the starting line. I lined up in corral E with Jody and Sandy and did some dynamic stretching while we waited to start. 

The race starts and I take off with Jody and Sandy. I felt my hip twinge from the first step but it wasn't too bad. Yet. We hit mile 1 in just under 11:00 and I was pretty comfortable with the conservative pace. 

We hit mile 2 at about the same pace but I started to feel a little more soreness. As we got close to mile 3 Jody asked me if I thought I could handle it for another 10 miles and I told her I thought I could. I let them go on faster and I tried to keep my own pace but soon I resigned myself to the fact that I was not going to be able to run this whole race. I was disappointed and frustrated. But shortly after I started my first walk break as I crossed back into Ohio, I noticed how beautiful the sunrise was over the river. I stopped, pulled out my phone and took a picture.

And that's when I got an idea. Since my race was pretty much over at this point, I might as well have a little fun. I decided to document the race with pictures and commentary. My purpose was two-fold: to have a little fun and to assure my family and friends that I was ok and making smart decisions. As it turns out, I can be a little stubborn and people who love me were concerned I'd push on at an unhealthy level and hurt myself even more.

Shortly after we crossed the bridge, I noticed the beginning of the 4-mile climb that I knew was going to be rough even on a good day. Today was not a good day. So....let the fun begin. Below is the commentary I posted on Facebook during the race, as well as some of the thoughts I had that I didn't stop to post.

See that mountain up ahead? Yep...I get to spend the next 4 miles running up it.

Geez, I'm really glad I'm not running a full marathon today. Thank goodness for small favors.

Ok. This is getting steep now. 

Hee hee. They are holding up Super Mario Brothers power boost sticks. That's funny. Points to them for sign creativity. Hey I could use a power boost right about now.This hill is killin' me.

Woot! Woot! Power boost selfie! Waiting for my power boost to kick in.

This power boost is not working. Crap.

Seriously with this hill? Is. It. Ever. Going. To. End?

Are my ears starting to pop?

I think I'm starting to get altitude sickness.

I kinda have to go to the bathroom. My time is already shot. Might as well add a few more minutes and take porta potty break.

Yup. Still in line.

Ok. I feel better now. What the? There was an actual honest-to-goodness park bathroom across the street? With flushing toilets and sinks with water? How did I not see that? Son of a....

Oh hey - I was down there a few miles ago!

Yep - that was a long way up. How do some people run that whole thing even with 2 good hips?

Oh good - we get to go downhill now.

Ow! Going downhill hurts more than going uphill!

Ok. Good. That's over.

Hey - even they call it a mountain!

Run again now. Ok -go. Nope, that's not happening. 

Now my "good hip" hurts too. For the love of all that's holy, when is this thing going to be over?

Big pig says 1 mile to go.

I've never walked in the last mile of a half marathon. Let's run again. Ok - those 20 feet really hurt. Back to walking.

Less than a half mile. I WILL run to the end now.

Where the hell is the finish line?

Yay! There it is. Hey - who are they? Oh yeah, the first marathoners are finishing now. Not doing a lot for my self confidence. At least it's just the men. Oh wait - nope. There are the first women. Sigh...

Finished!

Now to the first aid tent. Must. Get. Ice.

That feels better and worse all at the same time.

Celebratory finish pic.

Ok. Now all I have to do is walk the half mile back to my hotel.

#$^*&@!!