Unfortunate Health Update

It was only two weeks ago I wrote my last blog post about finding hope in affliction through my faith, and that I was on the mend from a lumbar disc herniation.

A lot can change in two weeks.

My last run was Thursday, April 4 and will likely be my last run of 2024. 

I have somehow reinjured my spine. My L4/L5 disc herniation reared its ugly head again on Friday morning and the second time around has been even more painful than the original injury last fall. I spent five days in excruciating pain as the disc compressed my nerve down my entire left leg. I was at a pain level of 8-9 with very little relief. Drugged myself up as much as I could, but until the inflammation goes down, real relief is futile. Every morning, after a fitful night of sleep, I would hope that I would have a little less pain and a little more mobility…to no avail. 

Five days of nerve pain absolutely drives you crazy. I was out of my mind yesterday. My orthopedist appointment wasn’t until today, Wednesday, and while I was able to get a round of prednisone and had a muscle relaxer on hand, no other home remedies were working. I decided yesterday afternoon to head to the ER. Greg also called my orthopedist to see if there was anything else I could do to ease the pain. 

Thankfully the ER did help me out with a morphine shot. It alleviated some of the pain and I was as high as a kite almost immediately, causing me to not even give a shit about the residual pain. Sweet relief from my misery, even if it would only last a few hours. At this same time, Greg and my doctor were getting me set up for an epidural injection first thing this morning - that, by the way, feels really funky. 

I had my doctor appointment this afternoon. Good news and bad news. Back to physical therapy, continuing those exercises to build up my strength and mobility, and a cessation of running and any impact activities for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t a surprise to me. I had been doing so well, so if I have to let one activity go to get my back fully healed, I’m willing to do so. 

If I think too much about it, however, I start feeling beaten down again. It’s been a brutal 3.5 years. To not be able to run again on Snoqualmie Trail, to not run a race in Huntington Beach…and all the other miles that make my heart happy….well, it absolutely crushes me. I find so much joy in that journey, and now I’ll have to shift for a long period of time to other activities that will better serve my broken body.

One of the things that hurts the most, however, is upsetting Greg. He hates to see me like this and I know my tears were tearing him up inside. I spent his 50th birthday in excruciating pain and couldn’t celebrate him like I wanted to and how he deserved. He’s such a rock to me, however, and puts himself aside to fully focus on me. I want to be the wife he deserves, and that serves as motivation to do what I need to do, and not make stupid decisions that further hinder my healing and progress. I still envision us running many more miles together in the future.

The pain of running a marathon (if I ever get to do that again) will be a piece of cake to endure after all this. 

Finding Hope

I was in the best shape of my life in 2020, in spite of the turmoil of the world. I controlled what I could control, which was my health and fitness and my commitments to my family. Despite the uncertainty in the world, I remained certain of two things - I loved my family, and I was in charge of my health. 

But a stupid momentary step on a trail 4 miles into a 10-mile training run derailed everything I had gained that year. I went from badass shape 8 weeks from a marathon, where if the weather was right I would be able to run a 3:45 and qualify for Boston again....to broken and defeated in a blink. I couldn't take care of myself anymore.

What followed was a grueling year where not only did I have to start over physically, but I lost myself emotionally. I was not the same person before that misstep in October of 2020. I was broken in every sense of the word. What continued to follow was more emotional turmoil than I can even now fathom. 

I put on a brave face....but I wasn't who God created me to be. I was lost.

Over the course of the last two years, I have gone from the bottom to a renewal. I'm still a work in progress, and I always will be in this sinful world, but I am once again a child of God, fully in awe of Him. I discovered something really powerful in my despair - hope is found in my faith. Hope is found in my surrender. Hope is found in giving it up to God's will. Hope will never be found in me alone. As soon as I was able to truly understand that I was not in control, my perspective shifted. 

It didn't take away the pain I was feeling, but it did give me a way through that pain. 

I'm currently in recovery from yet another physical setback, this time a ruptured lumbar disc. While I have made vast improvements and am thankful I can run again, I am still acutely aware that I am not healed. When I first got the diagnosis, I was obviously devastated. For the third time in three years, I was sidelined from doing what I love. I was forced into uncertainty. On top of that, I was about to turn 50. It's not a big deal to be 50, but for one of the first times ever, I was being forced to confront the fact that I just wasn't young anymore. I had to pay attention to my changing body and understand that while I'm on the fitter side of the majority of 50 year olds, I'm not 30....or even 40 anymore. This is the second half of my life....for real. 

I really thought this setback was going to absolutely crush me. I was scared, thinking of that time in 2021 when I just descended into a deep sadness. I didn't want that to happen again.

So I turned to God, and I realized that this response to pain and uncertainty is now automatic to me. For a long time I subconsciously fought against "help from God," figuring I could deal with it on my own. Not anymore. I KNOW I am not enough, I KNOW I can't weather all of life's storms under only my own strength. I NEED God to pull me through. As soon as I realized the depth of my fear, I prayed. 

What happened was a sense of peace and of hope, and a motivation to do what I needed to do physically and mentally to keep myself afloat. On my harder days, I prayed more. I wrote in my journal. I talked to my friends. I spent time with Greg. I went on walks and continued to pray. I did what was in my control. 

I never want to be that sad and lost again. You’ve heard the saying that God never gives us more than we can handle. That’s actually not true. We are absolutely bound to encounter things that are too much for us. But God promised us a way through it, and that requires surrender to Him. On the other side of that hardship is a strength and purpose that doesn’t come from this earth alone. 

Fix the Distance

I have a big frustration mounting and I'm trying to articulate my thoughts on it.

There's a disturbing trend in the racing world that is really hindering my desire to get back into triathlon and it's causing me to shy away from considering many running races.

RACE DISTANCE INACCURACY

Whatever happened to race distance accuracy? When I think about all the races I've run that have been inaccurate on the expected distance, it really surprises me. And it's mostly mistakes that cause the race to be short.

Frankly, if you post that your race is going to be a certain distance, I expect that race to be that distance. If you say it's a 5K, and it's really 2.9 miles but you charged me $35 to run this supposed 5K? Not cool. If you charge $120 for a half marathon but it ends up being 11.3 miles? That is REALLY not cool. If you put on an Ironman that can cost $800 to register for and the distance isn't 140.6 but more like 136? I can't even begin to describe the level of frustration that I feel on that one.

Yet this has been reality in countless races in the last few months.

With regards to a certified marathon, this is especially a huge deal. You simply CAN'T make a mistake on the distance of the race. In my case, it caused my Boston Qualifying time to be nullified and I had to try again. Considering I spent 8 months working towards that goal, making a mistake of a quarter mile was a big freaking deal.

Last weekend, several teammates and I ran in a half marathon and 5k race. My husband competed in the half marathon while I did the 5K. My goal was to PR this race and I knew I was totally capable of it. I have no idea what my 5K PR truly is because my three "fastest" times are on short courses. So while my results show me as having run a 22:40 and a 23:09, I know those were more around 3 miles and not 3.1 miles so I can't technically claim them. My fastest accurate 5K on record is 24:00, but I ran a 5K portion of my fastest 10K in 23:30. So basically it was time to erase all of that and bust out a true 5K PR on a 3.1 mile course.

Didn't happen. This race was at a winery and 1.6 miles of it was supposed to be in the vines. There was rain in the forecast for the 2 weeks leading up to the race, so the race organizers knew that there might be an issue with a the vines being too muddy to run. This isn't their first year....they know you can't run the vines if it's too muddy. They did not have a back up plan in place to get people a full 3.1 mile race. Instead, they had us double the road portion, which was only about 1.5 miles. In looking at the course and the road closures they had secured, having a backup plan to give runners a full 3.1 miles would not have been an issue. They chose to have us run the road portion twice, and don't even get me started on how much of a mess that ended up being. All those details will be in my race recap. I ended up running 7:12 pace for that ~3 mile race, which would have been a new PR by far. Yet, once again, my fastest 5K time is on another inaccurate course.

This, however, pales in comparison to the disaster of the half marathon course. Again, the last part of the course would have gone through the vines, but they had to cut that part out. There was no back up plan in place, even though having them run an out-and-back on the already closed roads would have been easy for them to do. They charged $120 for this half marathon. That is a whole lot of money for only running 11.3 miles. Three of my team members would have run huge PR's on this course, but they don't count. And they paid $120 to run this. Thankfully the pre- and post-race festivities were a lot of fun and we all really enjoyed ourselves. But still...

*sigh*

I'm frustrated. This frustration has been building all year, and these last two weeks have really brought it out in full force. All those thoughts have been mulling around in my mind and it was time to get it out.

Now let's talk about the disaster of Ironman Texas. They announced right before the race that for "athlete safety" the bike course would only be 110 miles instead of 112. This is the third year in a row the bike course has been short, plus there's all sorts of chatter that the run course is about 300 meters short. There was a world record time set on Saturday, but it doesn't count although it's possible had the course actually been 140.6 it still may have been a world record time. Three years in a row that they've messed up the distance of the course. This is not only a race that costs several hundred dollars just to register for, but it's also the North American championship. Plus, don't even get me started on the massive drafting that was allowed during the entire bike portion. Truly shameful.

I talked about doing Ironman Texas if I do a full iron distance triathlon. Now, that's off the table. I can't support a race that cares so little about integrity. An Ironman is 140.6 miles. Period. Just like a marathon is 26.2 miles. These athletes deserve so much better after pouring out their blood, sweat, tears, hearts....everything! And a substantial amount of money.

Fix the damn distance of your race courses.

So I'm frustrated. I was toying with returning to triathlon, for maybe a couple sprint races, maybe longer. I've missed it.

I'm disillusioned, however. I feel like so many of these races are so focused on profit that they miss those little (or not so little) details that the athletes find very important. When you're disillusioned, you're not motivated. When you're not motivated, training feels like a chore. When you show up to a race wondering what the actual distance might end up being, that's not exactly a good pre-race mindset.

I was very picky about the longer distance running races that I chose coming into this next marathon season. They are big city marathons and half marathons and have impeccable reputations, so anything that may go wrong would be a huge anomaly. They don't have a track record for screwing things up (hello, Ironman Texas) and the courses are tried and true and accurate and (hopefully) not changing. I'm doing a local 5K in June, but signed up before they published the course. Luckily it was really inexpensive so I'm not going to worry so much about accuracy. There's another local 5K that is put on monthly that I know is a perfectly measured course, and that one is always an option to run to get my legitimate PR.

I feel better getting it off my chest.

Tests+Trust+Time

So it's been a few days...

My mind is still blown that I would so drastically change my mind about Ironman. I'm still weirded out by it. I lost count how many times the words "NEVER" came out of my mouth....for years...and I meant it.

In my last blog post, I went into some detail about where I thought this change of mind came from. My reasoning seems to be becoming clearer, especially after our church sermon on Sunday.

The new sermon series is called "Oh the Places You'll Go" based on Dr. Seuss, and the topic of Pastor John's sermon this week was "Tests + Trust + Time = Friendship with God." To be completely honest with you, my faith has been tested dramatically in the last few years. I have dealt with so much adversity and have questioned the Christian faith so many times. I have struggled to understand my relationship with God. But I've stuck with it, I've prayed, and I have continued to have faith.

But it's not enough. My relationship with God needs a big fat tune-up. The message behind the sermon centers around three tests we go through in order to have a friendship with God (or to rediscover and strengthen our friendship).

Test #1: Comfort Test - Will I step outside of my comfort zone?
Test #2: Patience Test - Will I wait on God's timing?
Test #3: Allegiance Test - Will I let go?

As is true for so many of the sermons, this spoke right to me. It brought tears to my eyes. It was guiding me to my next journey.

Okay, so you're thinking, what in the world does Ironman have to do with God?

For those of us with faith, we know that we can't do anything without God. Physical endurance goals are one of those things. If I take on this enormous challenge, it will require that I seek God's guidance, strength, and unending love. I will have hours of time to speak with God.

Could this be how I find my friendship with God? As I analyze the three tests, I can see myself being guided to this huge endeavour. First of all, the Comfort Test is clearly in play. I will be so far outside my comfort zone, I won't even be able to see it in the distance. The Patience Test is requiring me to wait nearly two years to embark on this journey. I could so easily just sign up for the race next year, but I know in my heart it is not the right timing. I have to believe that this delay is exactly what is supposed to happen. The Allegiance Test will require me trusting in the process and turning to God to allow Him guide me, and to believe that I can do it.

I have no regret for changing my mind about this race. It still feels right to me. But I'm going to further explore the lessons I learned on Sunday. There are a few circumstances outside of racing that these tests apply to as well, and I'm also seeking understanding in those. So much to think about.

Ridiculously Huge Goals

I have a new list of goals. There was something about the last six weeks that has made me see my world in a completely different light.

In the beginning of April, I was in a very dark place. Certain circumstances in my personal life that I really couldn't process beat me down. I retreated, cried everyday, reassessed, got stronger, and took a good hard look at where I was vs. where I wanted to be.

Then I watched the Boston Marathon Documentary...

And then I went to Ironman Texas...

And then it just all came together.

I'm ready to talk about it.

I confided in a couple people what I had been thinking about, and because these people are freaking awesome, they were excited for me and ready to support me in whatever final decision I made. (Side note: everyone needs people like this in their life)

I've already made it very well known that I want to qualify for Boston. But here's the thing...I'm pretty far from that ability, although it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility. I would love to run this race in 2019 and I have my first shot at qualifying at Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon. I don't want to sell myself short, but I also want to have realistic expectations. I need to run a 3:55, which is more in line with my half marathon pace. It's a stretch for me to improve to this ability by December 10...but it's still possible. 

However....we all know that merely qualifying is never enough to actually gain entry. In reality I need to shoot for a 3:52. That doesn't seem like a lot, but when you're already talking about a big drop in time, it seems like an overwhelming difference. I'm very pleased with the progress I've made in getting my body stronger and leaner so I can continue to get faster. I am going to continue to focus on all the things I can control...my nutrition, my sleep, my workouts, my mental strength. The improvement will happen as long as I keep my eye on all these factors. It just remains to be seen how much improvement it will entail.

If for some crazy reason I actually pull off this feat of crazy, I'll run Boston in 2019.

HOWEVER....and here's where my next goal comes in.

I have another idea for April of 2019. If Boston has to wait, I am most likely (I had to put in a little "maybe") going to sign up for a different kind of race.

I am going to do Ironman Texas.

2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run

An Ironman. You know, that thing I said I'd never do. Up until April 21, I absolutely positively was never going to do an Ironman. NEVER.

Something changed in the few days after volunteering at this year's race.

I honestly was totally shocked the thought even entered my mind. SHOCKED. I have never had any desire whatsoever to do this kind of race. A ridiculous entry fee, the travel costs, the training commitment....THE FREAKING TRAINING COMMITMENT OHMYGOD.

Yet, it suddenly made sense.

I was terrified of telling Greg how I felt, but after his initial "Oh F&*K" reaction, he was supportive. If I really wanted to do it, I could do it. I was so scared of telling him that I told him over text.

I've had a few weeks to process why I suddenly had this desire. Like I said, the last six weeks were bad. Things are still bad, but I think my mind is processing it all very differently. I had been feeling like a huge failure as a parent. My daughter is especially struggling and I feel like it's partly my fault, that if I had just been able to be a better parent to her she'd be so much healthier.

In the last few weeks, that mindset has started to change. I feel stronger. I feel like I really am doing everything I can for her, everything in my power to make her better, and that I'm a damn good mom.

Do you have any idea how empowering this feeling is?

I've taken stock of just how destructive my mind was being, how I wasn't giving myself the respect I deserved, and how I was letting all this bullshit eat away at my self-worth. I was letting external bullshit cloud my judgement and rob me of the positivity I desperately needed.

Screw that crap.

I'm damn worthy of this goal.

If it weren't for the incredible team I am a part of, this goal wouldn't be feasible. But I know that everyday I'm out there training, I will have phenomenal people pushing me to be better, making sure I know that I can do it.

So there you have it. Will wonders never cease?

Thoughts on Ironman Texas

This past Saturday I traveled to The Woodlands to spectate and volunteer Ironman Texas. It was my second Ironman to attend, and it didn't disappoint. Emotional, inspiring, exhausting!

Three of my Georgetown Triathletes teammates competed, two of them in their first full Ironman and one competing in his fourth. We speculated beforehand in what order they would finish since they are all similar abilities, but in the end I think we all realized it was a crapshoot...we knew they would all do great. Three talented triathletes with more guts than I could ever imagine.

Kat, Christine and I ready for the day

My volunteer gig was as a Finish Line catcher from about 5pm to 9pm, along with a few other teammates, so in all likelihood we would get the chance to see the three #wonderboys finish, hoping one of us would get to be the one to "catch" them. But first things first....we got to spectate!

We didn't see the swim start or finish, and except for seeing the cyclists on the course as we made our way into The Woodlands, we didn't watch the bike leg. We camped out in a couple spots at T2 and anxiously awaited our teammates' arrivals. Of course the tracker didn't work at that time so we had to just be patient as we waited for them to come through. They all looked great when they entered T2 and were within about 25 minutes of each other (just like we thought!). Once we knew our guys were out on the run, we could breathe a big sigh of relief. The hardest parts were done (arguably) and all they needed to do was keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other (not so easy, of course).

Camping out for a bit on the run course was especially fun. The spectators are just awesome, and it's a 3 loop course along a waterway...lots of opportunities to see your runners. We got to see all three, plus I saw a couple other friends out there kicking butt, and we were getting more and more eager to get to the finish line and wait for the big moments to happen.

Favorite signs... especially "Run like her dad walked in"

Untrustworthy bunch

Being a Finish Line Catcher is a busy and rewarding job. It's not just about greeting each runner as they finish and making sure they are okay, but rather we were their personal assistant through the entire finish chute. Wrapping them in a thermal blanket, giving them water, getting them their medal, shirt, and hat, getting their chip removed, getting them a recovery drink, guiding them to get a photo, and paging medical should they need extra assistance. We didn't take our hand off of them until they exited the finish and could meet their loved ones...and then we went back up the finish line to catch another athlete.

Overall winner

Female winner

Above photos courtesy of teammate Amanda Shannon

I knew I would encounter so many emotional moments and I was pumped to watch the excitement these athletes experienced as they crossed that finish line. I think I maybe underestimated exactly how many times I would be brought to tears.

Jayson was our first athlete to cross the finish line and it was his very first Ironman. He's our young one and I knew he would have a great race. Luckily one of our teammates was right there to catch him, and as soon as Jayson saw him, he burst into tears. I was walking back to the line after letting one of my athletes go, and it was such a glorious sight to see Jayson's face and the emotion he was releasing. As I'm typing this, I'm getting emotional again! I immediately went right up to him to hug him and congratulate him. He was feeing great and had totally owned that Ironman course, right down to his 3:40 marathon and his 11:29 finish. Absolutely brilliant performance!

Photo cred: Amanda

Since Jayson and Drew (our other first timer) were racing almost identical races, we knew it was Drew's turn next and could be at any moment. I was right up at the front with teammate and club leader Christine when we saw him, and she grabbed him as soon as he crossed. I took the next athlete and trailed right behind Drew and Christine while I took care of my athlete until I had the opportunity to congratulate Drew myself, with a great butt slap thrown in because Drew is all about the butt slaps. He, too, had a brilliant race, capping off his 11:41 finish with a 3:53 marathon.

So sweet of me to look like I'm going to kill Drew

Wonderboys and Wonderwives
(photo cred: Amanda)

Our third teammate, Justin, was still out there but on his last few miles of the run, and his wife Kat stayed after her finish line shift to wait for him so she could personally give him his medal and greet him. Once again, we were in the right place at the right time and a teammate, plus Kat, got to catch him and help him through the finish chute. He had another great Ironman, finishing in 12:18.

I think he's done (photo cred: Amanda)

As emotional as watching my teammates finish was, the other athletes I had the privilege of helping will leave a lasting impression on me as well.

A first timer, age 25, who was completely overcome with emotion about halfway through the chute. He had to stop walking, his face took on all his emotion, he started crying, and he told me he was a St. Jude's baby. We shared a very special hug. I wish I had remembered his name. And I hope he keeps competing.

A middle aged gentleman who told me he had a rough day and wasn't sure he would finish because he's diabetic. He had trouble all day keeping his blood sugar regulated, but he pushed through and was able to still have a brilliant race. I walked him through slowly to be sure he was okay without medical assistance. His strength was astounding to me and I didn't hesitate to tell him how inspiring he was. 

The older gentleman who had just completed his 64th Ironman and wondered when someone would convince him to stop torturing himself. And the older woman that completely owned that finish chute after completing her 22nd Ironman and looked like she could get out there and do it again.

The young foreign gentleman who spoke little English but kept telling me he felt like new and wanted to do it again. I had a hard time walking as fast as him. 

The first timer young woman who could not stop crying and telling me thank you, who saw her husband along the fence and didn't want to let go of him, and probably took the most beautiful finish photo I've ever seen after such a grueling race.

The married couple who had no intention of finishing together, but it worked out that way. They found each other on the run and were each other's rocks to get to that finish line strong.  

And then there was Craig Tippit's family. Craig was a local athlete who was killed by a hit-and-run driver last month while on a training ride. His family was at the Ironman anyway, and his best friend, Bryan Ford, competed in his honor, carrying his bib and Craig's so Craig could still become an Ironman. Thousands of athletes, spectators, and volunteers wore bracelets in his honor. When we saw Craig's wife and family come to the finish line waiting for Bryan, we all had a lot of trouble keeping our tears in check. Bryan crossing that finish line was the most emotional finish I've ever seen. The strength displayed by Craig's loved ones was unmatched. The absolute best moment of the day. Hands down (sorry, #wonderboys). And once again, the tears are welling up just reliving it.

There were moments when I thought there's no way I would ever want to put in the time and effort to compete in something like this, there were moments when I wanted to say "screw it, let's do it," and there were moments when I thought being a volunteer was the coolest job ever. At the end of the day, it just cemented what I already knew.

I have the best team.

I have the best teammates. I love them all beyond measure.

I am so fortunate to know these people, and I am so fortunate to train and compete alongside them, to learn all I can from them, and help them when they need it.

Their successes sometimes come secondary to my own. I soak up so much pride and inspiration watching them chase their dreams, find strength they didn't know they had, slay their demons, and become better people. It's so freaking corny, but it's true.

If you want to experience an infinite amount of positive emotions, go watch an Ironman. Volunteer. Cheer. Whatever. Just go.