Walk This Way

With my new job, I'm commuting from San Diego to Los Angeles more frequently.  The only sensible way to do that is via the train.  Something about being from the East Coast makes me love public transportation.  Even when I lived in car-centric Texas, I rode the train from Dallas to my job in Fort Worth.

After I disembark from the train, I have to walk about a mile in my business shoes.  (Usually with that annoying Sheena Easton Morning Train song stuck in my head.) I could take a second pair of shoes, but it seems like such a hassle.  Instead, I bought myself some nice wedges and I do the walk in those.  I've always assumed wedges weren't very comfy.  When we were kids, my grandmother bought my sister an extremely heavy pair of wedge shoes.  After of day of those shoes weighing down her legs she came home and solemnly told my mom she had polio.  I'm not sure how my sister picked polio, but my mom still laughs that my sister said that.

All that back story to say, yesterday I was walking to the train and tripped in my supposedly-comfortable wedge shoe.  I twisted my ankle something fierce.

Damn.  No running for me this weekend.

No One Will Believe Us Now

Steve's bike crash left him with a nasty black eye and stitches.  I've taken a bit of teasing and so has he.  "What happened, did he forget to take out the trash?"  Domestic violence is no joke, but at some point you just go with it.  Now I say, "Yeah.  And that was just my left hand"

Today I stopped in to see my doctor for the routine prescription refills and asked her to look at this weird bump I have on my lip.  My dentist has been watching it for a few years, but at the last visit he said it had to be removed.  Nothing serious, but it's getting bigger and I bite on it occasionally.  Pack your bags, lip bump. Today my doctor it was just a mucocele (which is a scarred salivary gland).  She said she'd lance it and it would be gone.   She grabbed the lance, or more realistically a spear, and jammed it on in there.  Hmmm.  That thing did not budge so she referred me to surgeon who'll grab an even bigger spear and hopefully some local anesthesia.

When I got to the car, I caught my reflection in the rear view mirror.  The doctor's spear chucking left me with one huge fat lip.

Steve has a black eye.  I've got a fat lip.  No one is going to believe that there wasn't a brawl at our house.  Given the comparative bruises on the two of us - I totally dropped a beat down on him.  He'd better take out that trash.

Ouch

Running is a time specific workout.  Once I pick my training distance, I can accurately estimate my finish time. Cycling is totally different story. Steve can be delayed by a flat tire or a broken spoke. If any teammate has a mechanical problem or just a bad day, the whole team is delayed - maybe by a few hours. Every couple of months, Steve calls me to tell me that someone isn't able to finish the ride.  That's when I hop in the truck and pick them up.

When Steve called me last night from his regular Tuesday ride, I wasn't all that worried.  He said he'd taken a spill and that he had a cut on his forehead. Nope, he didn't need a ride home, but he'd be late. Then another friend called and said "We've got his bike and his stuff and they're loading him into the ambulance."  WTF!

The next hour was sort of a scramble of grabbing stuff for Steve (pajamas, food, eye glasses) and  heading to the hospital - the wrong hospital.  Then I got lost a second time by taking the wrong highway split.  Finally, I got to the correct ER. I must have had my "Don't mess with me" look on my face, because the ER nurse immediately walked me back to see Steve. If you work in the ER, let me give you a free tip.  Tell the family member what they're going to see.  I was visualizing a little knock on the head.  Not gushing blood, a swollen face and cervical collar.  How's about you give me a friggin' warning ER nurse?

Luckily, Steve is okay - no concussion.  (Thank you helmet!  A million thanks.)  He's got a wicked case of road rash on his face,  lots of stitches on his forehead and cheek and a shiner you wouldn't believe.  A little cosmetic damage and general soreness, but time, Neosporin, and Tegaderm will take care of that. 

If you'd have told me that one of us would have a bike accident this week, I wouldn't have guessed Steve.

My "New" Running Skirt

This week I went on an archeological dig into our garage to find some smaller sized running clothes.  In the last few months, I've lost over 30 pounds of fat.  (Yeah!)  The capris that I had been using for running  were just ridiculously big.

As I was digging through the Rubbermaid container of running clothes,  I rejected a bunch of things.  A few are still too small, but some I remember as problematic for extended workouts.  One shirt has a seam that chafes.  My adorable purple running skirt with the white shorties underneath?  Super-adorable before the workout.  However, when those white shorties get wet with sweat they are completely sheer. 

Today I took my gray, once-again-fitting Brooks running skirt out for a run around Lake Miramar. I remember buying this skirt and how much I loved the pockets.  Sooo cute.  There was something annoying about it, but I couldn't remember what.  When I started running, I thought I figured it out - the drawstring doesn't stay tied.  Annoying.

I don't run Lake Miramar often enough.  It's a perfect 5 mile loop around the lake. At mile 2.5, I realized it's not the drawstring that's the problem.  The shorties under the skirt,  they creep up.  Now maybe you're a lady whose thighs don't rub together.  My thighs rub.  Together.  With enough friction to cause a forest fire.

There are few things less welcome at the halfway point of a run than chub rub. I had 2.5 miles to go of walking like I'd just gotten out of the saddle.

March Marched On Without Me

March 2010 will always be known as that month I had a cold.

This was the single yuckiest cold I've ever had.  It wandered around my body on some sort of grand tour of malaise.  First, it was a sore throat, then a chest cold, then a sinus infection, then an ear ache, then a chest cold again, then swollen glands, then back to the ears.  That cold was everything but a UTI and athlete's foot.  Plus, I was tired all the time.  Run?  I needed a nap after a quick walk.

So yeah, the cold sucked but it wasn't worth a doctor visit since I was 95% sure it was a virus.  If it's a virus and it's past the first 36 hours, there's nothing the doctor can give you but sympathy.  Antibiotics won't work and I was past the window of efficacy of an antiviral medication.  I'm not someone who begs for antibiotics when they'll do no good. 

Finally, the cold continued it's grand tour and manifested as pink eye.  PINK EYE. That got me to the doctor, because pink eye is some ugly, ouchy and contagious stuff.  The doctor said, "Yup, viral, but take the antibiotic eye drops just in case." 

The antibiotics drops wiped out the pink eye is 2 doses.  I'm not a doctor, but antibiotics work on bacteria.  If the drops work, then this isn't viral.  This is one of those times it's awesome to live so close to the Mexican border.  Whenever I go over to Mexico, I pick up a stockpile of meds - Retin-A, antibiotics.  If you took a peak in the average San Diegian's medicine chest it would look like a farmacia.

I dug into my handy stockpile of Mexican antibiotics and in two days I was healed completely.  Whee!  I'm so happy to be healthy again.  I can't wait to run this weekend.

It's Time for Our Annual Performance Review

I got sick again. Luckily I'm on the mend in time to run in Dallas, but for the last few days my chest has been a raspy cavern of sticky phlegm. These repeated bouts of colds annoy me greatly, because I’ve always been a wonderfully healthy person.  Immune system, why hast thou forsaken me?

At work, I’ve spent the last few weeks writing and delivering performance reviews. It’s a necessary part of my job, but after awhile you start writing everything as though it was going to be reviewed by HR. If I had to write a review for my immune system, this would be it.

Immune System, while you’ve continued to stave off big diseases, your attention to day-to-day details has been poor.

This year, you’ve allowed a lot of germs to sneak past your defenses. There was a sinus infection in September, a cold for New Years Eve and the current illness. Also, the duration of illnesses is unacceptable. In the past you were motivated to knock out an problems in a day or two. Now things linger for days and weeks despite the support of antibiotics, Mucinex and hours of rest on the couch reading trashy novels. As an example, the latest cold has lingered long enough for me to watch the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Of course, any performance improvement discussion should include behavior changes for both you and me. I commit to continuing to provide support in the form of annual flu shots, fastidious hand washing and sound nutrition. I’ll further commit to getting a reasonable number of hours of sleep and trying to reduce my stress level.

Immune system, you need to step up your game. In prior years, you were a stellar performer; therefore, I know the high level of quality that you’re capable of delivering. Lets target having the remainder of 2010 be free of flu, infection and colds.

Afraid of My Own Strength

First, let me tell you that the move is completed.  Thank heavens.

We had a bit (ha!) of tidying (ha!) to do at Steve's old place last weekend.  While Steve went to ride his bike on Saturday morning, I thought I'd get that cleanin' party started.  Sometimes even the most mundane event can become an adventure. I was cleaning the shower and tried to turn the shower head to rinse off the shower wall.   That's when the shower arm ripped off in my hand.  Not the shower head, the shower arm.  That thing that goes through the silver donut and into the dark recesses of the wall.  

Hmm.  I tried to screw it back in, but it wouldn't go. When Steve got home I asked him to help. He was stumped too and he's an engineer.  The shower arm was threaded, so it should screw in, yes?  But when I reached inside the wall (scary!) the inside of the pipe felt smooth and there weren't any threads. 

Sunday morning I stopped by my neighborhood hardware store, North Park Hardware.  This is old skool hardware, not Lowe's.  At North Park Hardware, they don't have lawn furniture, rubbermaid containers, barbecue grills or a website.  They have hardware - every type of wall molly and screw, tons of tools and all the obscure stuff that the old houses in this neighborhood need.

They also have very knowledgeable staff.  No one says "it's not my department"; these dudes know how to fix stuff.  So I was a bit ruffled when the owner glanced at the shower arm and said "You don't even know how much trouble you've got."  Turns out I'd ripped the pipe in half.  The reason I couldn't screw in the shower arm was the old pipe was stuck in there.

The owner walked through the store with me and tried to find a tool to clean out the pipe.   He found the closest fitting tool, but it wasn't exactly right so he took out his saw and modified it for me.  I went home and tried it, no luck.  Back to the hardware store.  He found another tool which was slightly too large, so he took it on over to his grindy wheel thing and ground it down to size.  Really, does anyone at Home Depot customize tools for you?  No, they don't.

Then he did something extra awesome.  He pulled another tool off the shelf and loaned it to me.  He said it was expensive and I was only ever going to use it once.  How many times was I going to rip the shower arm in half?  The tool was also pretty much indestructible so he said I could use it and bring it back the next day.  Not that I could buy it and return it.  Or even leave your name and address.  He just pulled it off the shelf and handed it to me.  How friggin' fantastic is that?

Went back to the apartment and spent the next few hours engaged in the knuckle scraping work of removing the snapped off piece of pipe.  It was a strenuous, frustrating job.  And frankly Steve had his doubts that I could do it.  (He was busy sorting and packing stuff so the plumbing repair job fell to me.)  In the end I got the old pipe out and installed the new shower arm. 

I'm proud to report that:

1. I'm strong enough to rip pipe in half.
2. I'm tenacious enough to spend hours making the repair.
3. I returned the perfect tool to the world most awesome hardware store.

The Opposite of Fun

Headed out for my 14 miler. FAIL.

As soon as I started running, my tummy went into a full revolt. I got food poisoning in Las Vegas two weeks ago and my GI tract hasn't been right since. Eating Thai food for lunch and dinner yesterday probably wasn't my smartest choice either.

In addition to my rumbling belly, it was hot. It was supposed to be in the over 80 degrees so I decided to run on Coronado Island to catch an ocean breeze. All of my Texas friends are thinking 80 degrees is not hot. It is to me. I was promised perfect weather at all times in San Diego. It's supposed to be 72 and sunny every day. I made my trade-offs to live here, enduring the ridiculous cost of Southern California housing and Mexican food made without lard. Surely, San Diego can deliver perfect running weather in return for my suffering. It was definitely hotter than 80 degrees with no shade and no breeze.

In the end, I ran about a mile and walked about 2 miles. So frustrating. I'll try again tomorrow.

Recovery Miles - And the Blisters Say Ouch

I ran two miles of wind sprints today as recovery from the Disneyland race. Sheesh, it was hot out there.

Also, the blisters on the ends of my toes were not cooperating. Great googly moogly - if I need to go up another size in running shoes I'll be so embarrassed. I'm wearing men's shoes as it is. I'm going to need to get clown shoes.

Wii Must Say Farwell For Now

Steve got me a Wii for Christmas which we finally set up yesterday. I feel a rapid fall in my posting count about to occur as I'm consumed by Wiiness.

I already feel closer to my old pals Jim and Leia of We Know Wii.

Superfeet, Not So Super

Last week, when the X-ray technician showed me the X-rays of my feet he said, "The right foot has a pretty large bone spur." My reply was, "Nifty, but it's the left foot that hurts."

Since this summer I've had problems with both of my feet. At the end of each race or workout, I'm limpin' and gimpin' on extremely tender tootsies. My plantar facsiae are irritable and those nasty facsaie have my heels aching whenever I run or jump. The X-rays where just to confirm that there aren't any broken or fractured bones. The bones are fine, even with the bone spurs.

When my foot problems first started, I had some Superfeet insoles custom made for my running shoes. Essentially they put your Superfeet insoles into an EasyBake oven to melt them, then the insoles are reformed around your foot. In theory, you should have insoles that precisely support your feet. People rave about Superfeet and I figured with custom fitting, they'd be perfect.

Except not. This weekend at training, I finally figured it out. It's the stupid insole that's the problem. I ripped it out of my shoe and ran with substantially less pain.

Dear Southern California Cyclists;

Hey cyclists, did you hear that there's a new metric century ride on December 6?

The ride is the Milestone Challenge and benefits San Diego endurance athlete Skip Gleavey. This summer, Skip was in cycling accident which has left him paralyzed below the waist. Proceeds from the Milestone Challenge will go to help cover his health care costs during his rehabilitation.

Skip has completed marathons, century rides and triathlons. He did those events while recovering from heart surgery and Stage 4 Lymphoma. Now he needs to conquer another challenge - life after a devastating accident.

The ride will be a typically beautiful Southern California course starting in Solana Beach and going up the Pacific coast.

Cyclists and San Diegans. It's time to do a race for one of our own.

Ride
Donate
Volunteer

Updates

After a day of tests the pet emergency room vets were completely confounded by what was wrong with Toby. I took him home and he stumped us all by getting better on his own.

My bout with the croup is almost complete. Other than a lingering cough, I'm good. It's still a bummer since that cough/cold kept me pretty well out of cardio activities and I'm really worried about the half marathon this weekend. Ah, well. I guess I'll suffer on through it.

I did my first TNT Peak Performance Team workout last night. One hour - all core - all the time. That's a full hour of abdominals with only quick breaks for back. Yikes. My abadabas were screaming for mercy.

More Family Fun

I'm mostly better and now my beloved cat Toby is sick. I'm here the pet ER waiting for the blood work and x-rays.

The pet emergency room is one of the saddest, loneliest places.

Sick

I'm sick wth a hacking cough that feels like I'm tearing away one smoldering hunk of lung at a time. This sucks.

As Chris Rock says, more tussin!

Marathons Are Nothing

My parents have been visiting for three weeks (which explains the lack of posts). Yesterday, for their last day in San Diego we went to the beach in front of the Hotel Del Coronado. Coronado Island is home one of the world's great beaches and of the Navy SEALs.

The water was a bit too cold to swim, but we walked along the shore and got our feet wet. Then we sprawled out on the beach blanket and watched military aircraft do some practice runs - touch-and-go's, short landings, the whole works. It was a nifty impromptu air show of small planes, a Gulfstream jet, a Hornet, and two different helicopters. Very cool, indeed.

As we were combing the beach for sand dollars we noticed a whole slew of guys in rafts. We ambled over to find 15 rafts of Navy SEAL trainees doing some sort of training exercise. I'm not sure what they were doing, but it looked arduous. Three rafts were selected out of the pack to race to shore. The winning crew would get out and heave their raft over some rocky shoreline. If the did something wrong and they'd get punishment of rolling in mucky water then in sand. Then they'd do push ups, squat thrusts and jumping jacks until the instructor got bored. Then it was back in the raft for another round. One guy had a ripped pants leg from his calf to his thigh. I can pretty much guarantee that it wasn't just he pant leg that ripped but his leg flesh too. He was rolling in sand and sea water without complaint.

The Navy sent a Public Relations Officer along with the training crew. It makes sense since this is a public beach and all. Poor guy had to spend 30 minutes answering my questions. I get my money's worth for my tax dollar.

• How many men make it through the SEALs program? About 70%. Nearly all of the drop outs (90%) are voluntary; the remainder are medical or performance.
• Do SEALs get paid more than Navy personnel of similar rank? Yes, mostly in the form of bonuses.
• What is the usable life of a Navy SEAL? Some stay in the SEALs for 30 years, but they aren't the guy kicking in the door. They are planning missions.
• So do those old SEALs get fat and unfit? No, all SEALs can pass the same physical standards.
• How long is the training? About a year, but it can vary.
• Are they done for today after this exercise? No, they'll run back to the base and train for another few hours at least.
• How do the rafts get back to the base? They'll carry them as they run, balanced over their heads.
• How long have these guys been in training? Less than three weeks. They aren't receiving any bonus pay yet, because they haven't hit the first milestone.

Sheet! These kids were doing this exhausting workout for no additional pay, a 30% chance of success and they'd have to do this another year.

I'll never complain on mile 20 of a marathon again.

Quotes from the Weekend

You need to learn to fall on your left side. The right side of the bike is where all the expensive stuff is.
- Ride Mentor

You have very dainty scapula.
- Radiologist who read my x-ray.

I'm fine, if a bit bruised.

I'd Like To Thank - My Mentor, My Teammates and My Helmet

Saturday's bike ride was, well, unfun. Cycling is one of those things that when things start to go wrong, the wrongness just keeps building on itself.

The short version is -

• My bike saddle was too far forward; therefore, my leg stroke was inefficient.
• Between my pedaling inefficiency, my poor shifting technique and riding with a faster pace group, I managed to exhaust myself after 20 miles with another 10 to ride.
• The bike saddle position put pressure on my knees and my right knee was super painful and cranky.
• Because my knee hurt, I couldn't quickly unclip my foot from the pedal on my right side which meant I was frightened that I was going to fall whenever we needed to stop.

Do you see how the wrongness builds exponentially?

To get around the cranky right knee/unclipping problem, I started unclipping my left foot. It worked until we got about 500 yards from the end of the ride. We stopped and I needed to unclip on the right side and get that foot to the ground. I couldn't do it fast enough and fell over. At that point, I just couldn't take it any more - the painful knee, being afraid for hours, being so close to the finish, the fall. It was simply too much for me and I started to cry and babble (humiliating, I know).

I have never appreciated a Team In Training mentor or group teammates more than I did on Saturday. I was ruining their ride - they couldn't go as far or fast as they should have been able to go and they were still so incredibly supportive to me. I'm not very comfortable needing help and I was incredibly frustrated. My teammates put my bike back together, pulled a clump of grass out of my helmet, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, cheered me on when I got back on the bike to ride to the finish.

The fall gave me a whippin', but at the time I didn't notice it. Now I'm sporting a very tender shoulder and swollen elbow and some nice bruises on my legs. That begs the question, why can't I just stop now? Last week, I got an email from one of my first Honored Teammates. Honored Teammates are people who are fighting blood cancers who agree to dedicate time to TNT teams. Each Honored Teammate is special to me and several are young children. Children fighting cancer is sad, but childhood Leukemias now have a high survival rate which is a direct result of money raised for research.

The email last week was from an Honored Teammate, Michele, who has always touched my heart. She's just a bit younger than I am and from a similar background. She's me, only she's fought back cancer 4 times. The cancer has returned and this time things look bleak. Chemo isn't an option this time and she's looking to alternative treatments - an alkalizing thing, an oxygen thing. Before they talked about a cure, now they're talking about quality of life.

That helps to keep things in context. I had a bad couple of hours training, but I'm healthy enough to train for an endurance event. It's hard to quit knowing that my Honoree won't have that chance. If I just wanted some training partners for every Saturday, then I could join a running club or a bike club. I picked TNT, because I wanted to raise money to fight blood cancers.

Michele is going to be featured on TV program about understanding cancer which does a great job explaining her story.

Spin, Spin Sugar

Went to spin class today. It's not the cardio that's a problem; it's the butt hurting. I did hang in for the entire 45 minutes of class which made me proud. And sore. Then I managed to hit the weight room.

If you need me I'll be over here. Standing.

I'll Take This Under Advisement

Steve has been advocating skipping the Spring Marathon season and training for a Century Ride instead.

A century ride is -
100 miles.
On a bike.
That I would need to pedal.

Actually, the pedaling is fine. I like pedaling the bike. On the other hand, I have a rather delicate tush. Steve and I rented bikes to explore the Aran Islands in Ireland. After about 90 minutes on the bike I had a tender bruise on my butt bone. Do you see how happy Steve looks in the photo? That's because he doesn't have a sore bottom. A day later we flew home to San Diego. The 12 hour flight was an adventure of fidgeting trying to find a sitting position that was both comfortable and not putting weight on my bruise.

Today was the Team In Training Alumni Celebration. It was great to see everyone again, especially since everyone did really great in their marathons. Over the course of the party several folks came over to tell me that me ride in the Aran Islands should not deter me from the Century ride. Amicus briefs were filed to point out that my problems in Ireland were the result of a poorly fitted bike, a saddle designed for men, and lack of appropriate cycling shorts, etc..

Personally, I think it's that I have a super sensitive "Princess and the Pea" tush. Unless I can find some sort of super soft, Lazy-Boy recliner bike saddle I'm not sure this Century ride idea is going to work.

However, I'm willing to listen to arguments to participate in the Century. Potentially, I will be riding in "America's Most Beautiful Bike Ride" in Lake Tahoe on June 1, 2008. Just be sure you understand that I have not committed to this.