My Hat-Trick and Surgery Decisions

I like hockey. Most women don’t. I think it’s residual from my ex-boyfriend. He was a Redwings fan. Of course now that means I dislike them with a burning passion. I still like hockey though. Mostly when they fight. The game itself is okay. I prefer to go watch in person rather than on TV though. I don’t like the sport of boxing or MMA or wrestling or any of that, but for some reason when I see two guys beating the heck out of one another in a hockey rink, I get a secret thrill.

Thus the term “hat-trick”. That’s the term I use when I refer to my back to back to back races that I did in February/March of this year. The first two I already wrote about. I did the Lost Dutchman Half-Marathon and then Ragnar Del Sol. The week after that I did The Phoenix Half-Marathon. This was my third year in a row doing it. It’s a really good race. I did the inaugural half-marathon, the inaugural full-Marathon the year after and then the half-marathon this year (since I had to drop down from the full because of my weird leg thing).

It was a really good race. Oddly enough my leg didn’t bother me until almost the end of the race. It rained that morning and sprinkled on and off throughout the race. I spent the first mile in a poncho and garbage bag, but quickly became too hot and took it off. It’s a good look, don’t you think?

I thought I would be exhausted after running a half-marathon  and then over half-marathon distance the week after and then running a half again. I was right. I could definitely feel the fatigue in my body. At that point my soul was even fatigued! I saw a few familiar faces during that race. I was absurdly excited every time I saw someone I knew.

I was actually on my way to a new PR oddly enough before my stomach started hurting me really bad. I felt as though I had a huge side-stitch or cramps or something. I hurt but couldn’t quite put a name to the hurt. I decided to stop at one of the porta-potties on the route against my better judgment. I had been drinking a lot of water so I thought maybe I just over drank before the race.

Unfortunately I wasted about 6 minutes standing in a line I didn’t think was too long when I first got in it. It took forever for it to be my turn though. The pain didn’t go away, but I plugged on regardless. I was secretly hoping I could make up the time I just wasted and have a PR anyway.

It didn’t quite happen for me. Between my stomach, my increasing exhaustion and my stubborn leg that decided to start locking up on me the last mile, I didn’t get a PR. I didn’t do too terrible considering.

Not the most glamorous post-race photo but I included it because you can see the tiredness and deliriousness written on my face. I wasn’t even sure I would be able to drive home I was so tired. After meeting up with my friends though, and walking around for a little while, I perked up a little and was able to make it home for the best warm shower and nap. I had been cold to the bone the entire race because I had run in wet clothes from the rain most of the race. It was also windy and below average temps for the day so by the time I got home, a hot shower was definitely on the agenda!

Me and my peeps (I didn’t realize it until just now, but apparently we just naturally arranged ourselves in order of height-kinda. Hahaha.

I don’t know if you can read that but I had it inscribed with “3 in a row. Celebrate EVERY Mile!”

That’s kind of my slogan. I love that. You SHOULD celebrate every mile good or bad. You never know when your last mile, will indeed be the last mile you ever run.

The Saturday after my hat-trick.

After that last race, my stomach started bothering me off and on for no apparent reason. I had an appointment for my yearly checkup at the same doctors office, but with a different doctor than the one who told me I needed surgery. This doctor was amazing. She addressed all my concerns and questions that I had regarding my cysts. She talked with me like a real person and not like I was taking up her time and inconveniencing her. She also explained things to me in a way that made sense.

She told me my current stomach issues were a side effect from my cysts because they kept growing. She could now feel them just by pushing on my abdomen. She was honestly surprised I had no pain in the months prior. I ended up deciding to switch doctors and have her do my surgery. I kind of felt bad about switching doctors. It’s not that I thought the other doctor didn’t know what she was doing, but I felt immediately at ease with this new doctor.

I did tell her I would not be able to have the surgery until after school was out in May. There was no way I could take the required 4 weeks off for recovery at the end of the school year with so much to do. She told me I was on restriction and would not be able to work-out or run at all until the surgery. She also informed me if my pain got worse I needed to go directly to the ER and let them know about my cysts because one could have ruptured or twisted  itself on my fallopian tube.

I was disappointed about being faced with  a lack of a physical outlet, but after telling me everything that could go wrong since I had to wait to have the surgery, a little vacation from exercise didn’t seem so bad. She also told me I needed to avoid lifting anything heavy. I think ‘heavy’ is a little too broad of term. She said anything over 10 pounds. To me that’s not heavy. I was starting to pack up my classroom to move across campus to a new grade level and new building. I am not going to lie. I have a lot of stuff. I tried to take it as easy as I could, but stuff happens as they say.

I’m really not great at asking people for help. I always feel like when I do, I am inconveniencing the other person. So I probably lifted more than I should. I am a very concise packer and needed everything in its place anyway. I started to have more pain in my stomach than before. A lot of people told me I was having the pain because now I was aware that I had an issue. Kind of psychosomatic if you will. I disagree. I just think I was running out of room in my abdomen and the cysts kept growing and everything I was doing was irritating them. Regardless, I felt as though I was in constant pain. Most of the time I tried to mask it so I wouldn’t be told to ‘take it easy’ or that I was ‘doing too much’. I also didn’t want people to fuss over me and make a big deal about it. I was already nervous enough (and getting more nervous by the day), and as long as I pretended everything was okay, everyone left me alone. A few times though,  the sharp pains I was getting had me on my knees. June couldn’t come soon enough.

My First Ragnar

My friend Amber (mybirthwrite.com) texted me saying she was running a Ragnar Relay and she may have a spot on her team if I was open to it. I had wanted to try running a Ragnar since my friend Meredith had run one in the Florida Keys two years before. In Arizona it’s generally the week before the Phoenix Marathon, so the timing has never been right for me. This text came to me literally the day after I received a reply from the race director at Phoenix confirming my move to the half marathon).

Again, feeling like things happen for a reason, I said yes. My logic was that I could do the relay and still be fine for the Phoenix half-marathon the following week. I was super-excited and told Meredith I was finally going to be able to run a Ragnar. She was excited for me, but then brought up the very good point that I would be running Lost Dutchman, Ragnar, and The Phoenix back to back. Three weeks in a row. Still fighting this injury. Smart plan Jamie.

I didn’t want to back out. I needed the distraction so I sucked it up and planned on running all three races. If you don’t know what a Ragnar Relay is I highly suggest you check out their website. http://ragnarrelay.com/race/delsol (this is the link for the Arizona one). It’s an almost 200 mile relay that you run with a group of 4-12 people. (The groups less than 12 are called “ultra” teams and are absolutely insane). This year (I found out the day we started our relay) there was a team of TWO running the relay. TWO people. Seriously?? They were running almost 100 miles each in a two-day time period. Now that is running dedication.

The Ragnar Relay website describes it this way:

“You and 11 of your craziest friends (or 5 of your crazier friends for an ultra team) pile into two vans and tag team running 200(ish) miles, day and night, relay-style. Only one runner hits the road at a time. Each participant runs three times, with each leg ranging between 3-8 miles and varying in difficulty. So, from the elite runner down to the novice jogger, it’s the perfect race for anyone

While one person is running, the rest of your teammates are on support duty in your race vehicles. Teams require 2 vehicles (Runners 1-6 in van 1 and 7 -12 in van 2) Van 1’s runners will cover the first six legs. As each runner begins, the crew in the vehicle can drive ahead, cheer their runner on and meet them at the exchange point to pick them up and drop off the next runner. After the first 6 legs, van 2 picks up the slack and starts putting in the miles.

Once your van’s runners finish the six legs, you drive ahead to the major exchange point to wait for your other van to finish their six legs, hunker down and try to get some rest. If you aren’t in the mood to sleep or can’t seem to move your body into sleep mode, try harder because you will need it for the next step.

All that stuff above? Yeah… you get to do it two more times.”

A pretty apt description if I say so myself!

I was very nervous about taking on this challenge because I am not the most social of people (I have a lot of social anxiety which I try to mask). I knew Amber, but only a little through Weight Watchers. I knew absolutely no one else on the team which was a little disconcerting for me.

In true Jamie fashion, I researched Ragnar, looked up pins on Pinterest, picked Meredith’s brain regarding her experience with her relay in the Keys, and watched videos from people running Ragnar’s on YouTube. I think I sufficiently covered every inch of information I could find. The only thing I didn’t learn was exactly how hard this was going to be on my body!

We met as a team for the first time at Amber’s house in Phoenix (along with the social anxiety I have a lot of anxiety about driving in Phoenix-It’s pretty scary!). All of the girls that would be in my van came for the meeting and most of the girls for the other van were in attendance. The almost ironic thing was that the other van consisted of teachers and the van I’d be  in consisted of nurses. They all seemed to be OB nurses too (that’s the ironic part since I was going through my mental tug of war issue about not being able to have kids).

It was determined the nurses and Amber and I would be in van 1 and the teachers would be in van 2. I was to be runner number 6. The last runner for our van. At first I was secretly glad I was the last runner until I realized that meant I would have all that time to wait before my run. Amber was runner 1. Once she was done with her leg she would get to rest right away. Awesome.

We decided our team name would be “Chicks with Kicks” which I thought was totally adorable. Amber’s husband even designed our shirts!

I was enamored with our shirts! Our meeting took place only about 3 weeks before our race due to the fact that the original team had some injuries and several runners had to be replaced at the last-minute. It was a productive meeting, we got all the info we needed, and all we had to do was wait!

The night before we left for the starting line (waaaaaaay out on the other side of Arizona-it felt like) our half of the team met at Roadrunner Sports (love that place!) to participate in the van decorating event. Apparently it’s a big deal to trick out your van and have  theme. Most of us never having run a Ragnar before did not know this so we were clueless. Luckily the teacher (and researcher) in me brought along some magnets, markers, and little bird things I found in my classroom. This was the end result of our van:

I was pretty proud of the chick I had drawn on the back window if I do say so myself! The little birds had our names and what runner number we were. The managed to stay on all the way through the scary freeways (which we nominated Becca and Amber to switch off driving on), but somehow disappeared in the parking lot of the starting line. Annoying. Oh well…they were cute while they lasted.

If I remember correctly our start time was around 5:30am. The slower the group pace, the earlier the start time. Obviously with a start time before the sun came out-we were not planning on setting any records. We ended up leaving Tempe Market Place, where we had all arranged to meet, around 4am (I think) maybe 3:30? It was all a sleepy blur!

It was really cold that morning and we were all bundled up waiting for Amber to start us off as runner #1. The girls in the other van were lucky! They got to sleep in and didn’t had to meet us at our exchange until later in the afternoon. Although we did finish and had a few hours to rest before they crossed the finish line for our team. I’m getting ahead of myself a little.

The atmosphere was amazing. There was music, tons of people, and had such an energizing effect! Some teams were even wearing costumes. It was pretty awesome just to wander around and people watch before our team started off. The designs on the vans and the team names were fun to look at too! There was even one van dedicated to “The Griswold Family Vacation” from the National Lampoons Movies. It was a hoot!

Amber took off a little after 5:30. We drove back and forth on the route for a little while cheering for her, yelling out the windows, ringing a cowbell, etc. We pulled over a few times to give her some water. On most of the legs you could provide “support” to your runner by giving them water and fuel. Some legs, because of the roads, or the location of the route there was no support so the runners had to fend for themselves until the next exchange. Luckily we were able to support her. I think that loop for her was around 8 miles. As we drove ahead to the exchange point to drop of runner #2 and collect Amber, we started to worry as we began climbing some pretty steep hills in our van. This meant she would have to run up those hills-and they were toward the end of her leg! Scary!

We finally met up with an exhausted but happy Amber, said goodbye to runner 2-Janie, and set off to give more support to our runner and meet at the next exchange point. It was pretty fun. We got to the point we were yelling and cheering for anyone-it didn’t matter who it was. I could tell they appreciated the support too!

My leg was getting closer and closer and I was starting to get nervous. It was the hot part of the day (around 1pm), I was in an unfamiliar city, and even though we had a route map, I didn’t know what conditions I would be running on. If I remember correctly my first leg was a little over 5 miles and was labeled “moderate” in terms of difficulty. I figured 5 miles would be no big deal so I wasn’t too concerned about the distance.

I definitely was not prepared for the heat though! It had to be somewhere in the 90’s. That and lack of sleep made me feel as though I was running through quicksand. I think at one point I actually did run through quick sand! Not really, although it felt like it!. The last two miles of my leg were running through very loose and rather deep gravel. Not having trail shoes, I could feel every pebble as it settled into the groves in the bottom of my Brooks running shoes. My legs were on fire from the effort, I felt like I was trapped in a sauna due to the unseasonably warm weather, and I had to keep looking down to make sure I didn’t twist and ankle in the unstable surface I was running on.

I finally neared the finish for my leg and saw a sea of blue ahead of me. As a team we decided that for each of our sets of legs (3 per van) we would wear a different color (trust me you want to change your clothes after running and being stuck in a van with 5 other people). We decided on blue, then green, then pink (since our amazing shirts were pink). They have people call out team names when runners get close to the chute so the next runner can get ready for the hand off of the baton. In our case it wasn’t really a baton, but a slap bracelet which made it convenient and fun to do!

My team (both vans) leaned forward as I got closer and made an arch for me to run under. It was so cool! I wish I had a better picture of it. This was as close as I got:

That’s me, giddy with happiness to be able to cool down and running under the arch!

With our first run done, our van could relax! We cleaned up as best we could with baby wipes and other on-the-go-cleaning supplies, and grabbed some lunch. We were all tired, but happy. The girls had been taking turns trying to nap in the van. I don’t know if any of them were successful. It seemed as though a few were able to get a few zzz’s here and there. I was unsuccessful. I don’t sleep well if conditions aren’t perfect. Another one of my idiosyncrasies I think.

Our next run would begin in the evening. We drove to our next exchange point in search of showers (we were at a high-school and they had opened the locker room for us). Rumor had it that the water was cold. The lines were so long, none of us waited around to find out, so we once again cleaned up as best we could with the baby wipes. At least we were able to brush our teeth like normal and use a mirror to assess our damage (haha).

Getting nervous again being in an unfamiliar city, of course I started stressing about what time I’d be running, where I’d be running, how long it would take me, how cold it was, etc. Luckily the girls in my van were all amazing women and we swapped stories and kept each other entertained as much as possible. Soon it was Amber’s turn again and we trotted off to the exchange shoot to welcome our second van and see off Amber.

It was around 10 or 10:30pm at this point so of course it was dark. Ragnar has safety mandates which include a headlamp, a safety vest, and a light on the back of the vest during ‘night hours’ which were 9am to 9pm. It was eerie to see people all lit up, but we were able to see runners coming in from pretty far away.

My stomach (of course) had been acting up since I had finished my run earlier in the day. I didn’t eat much when we went to lunch, nor did I snack on anything in the van. When we said goodbye to runner 1 and headed back to our van we happened upon some nice volunteers who were making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the side of the road. Normally I would not eat a sandwich made by some random person on the side of the road at 10:30 at night, but I figured I needed to eat and suddenly the thought of jelly sounded really good. I’m not a big grape fan, but boy did that grape jelly and peanut butter sandwich hit the spot! I swear it was the best one I had ever had! I know it sounds weird but I will take the memory of that sandwich with me to my grave. (Kind of like the orange slices from the Phoenix Marathon-they were THAT good!).

We drove from exchange to exchange dropping off and picking up our runners. The majority of the legs on this run were ‘no support’ so we weren’t able to cheer for or give our runners water so it was kind of boring for us. We tried to nap at the exchanges, but it was difficult to do with the lights, and the noises from other vans. Plus we set up a text system so we knew when our runner was getting close so we could walk out to the exchange point at a decent time instead of standing there freezing. Soon I was up for my second leg!

What a difference a few hours make! I think I began my run around 3:30am. If my first run was hotter than hell, the second run was the polar opposite (pun intended). It was so cold I could see my breath! I had layered up and was wearing Capri running tights under my sweat pants, a tank with a  long-sleeved shirt and a jacket over that. I know that I am a hot runner though so right before I was to take off, I shed my outer sweats and handed them to one of the girls in my van. I was so tired (having been up for a over 24 hours at this point) that I had no idea of the person I handed all of my stuff to was even on my team!

 

Not even a mile into my run I started to get really hot! I ended up slowing down a little so I could struggle out of my running jacket and long-sleeved shirt. (Don’t worry, I still had a tank on underneath). I tied them around my waist as best I could so they wouldn’t fall off, and so my number was still visible. I had sweat rolling down my arms that would immediately freeze as soon as it hit that icy air. I’m surprised I didn’t end up with Pneumonia!

We all decided (when we got back to the van), that none of us were feeling particularly good, and we knew if was the odd nutrition of the last day and a half. We ended up making a late night Wal-Mart run. Once again we were in an unfamiliar city, and here I was around 5am walking around Wal-Mart in my running clothes, looking like death warmed over I’m sure! We got an assortment of cheese sticks, lunch meat, fruit and some crackers and headed off to the next exchange.

The girls made me lie down in the back of the van by this point. They knew I had gotten no sleep. It was way too hard for me to doze in a moving vehicle though. I wished so badly that I could be like a kid again when I’d always fall asleep in the car. Even on short rides!

Before I knew it, our reprieve was over and it was our van’s turn again. Last legs for us! It was blazing hot again and some of our runners had their longest legs coming up. My legs had been pretty consistent hovering around the 5-7.5 mile marks but one of our runners had gone from like a 4 mile run to this one being a 9 miler! It was brutal!

I was exhausted during my last leg. I knew where we were at this point! We were in Fountain Hills. They didn’t add the ‘hills’ part for no reason! This was a no support leg for me, probably because once I got out of the city, I was running on a major highway again. My van tried to stop where they could just so I’d see them there and know they were supporting their last runner as much as they could. The race marshal (is that even what you call those guys?) kept driving past me, turning around, and driving past me again. I have no idea what that was about. I knew I wasn’t the only runner left on the course. I was starting to get a complex though, like the sag wagon was after me!

The hills I ran up were brutal. My mysterious injury had not really bothered me too much up to this point. I think having regular adjustments from the chiropractor were helping. Those hills though. I didn’t think I was going to make it up some of them. My last hill was so steep I literally cried. Then I got mad at myself for crying and was able to push myself the last little bit that I needed

Part of our van decorations were the check boxes next to our names. When we finished a leg, we’d check it off. Notice how big that check mark is that I gave myself at the end. An emphatic check mark indeed! PS Kills (for those of you wondering) are for every person you pass during your leg. I may not be the fastest runner, but was till able to add some marks to that tally if I do say so myself! I think we forgot sometimes to add them, but it’s the thought that counts!

We headed back into familiar territory to wait for our second van to finish. We were going to meet them at the finish line and all run across the finish together. When we got to the parking lot of Tempe Town Lake we tried once again to clean up using the portable items we had. By then we were all too tired to really change so we just put on our “Chicks with Kicks” shirts on over our running clothes.

One of the other girls texted me saying our last runner was going in, so it was time to meet them at the finish and run across as a team. It’s weird to think that this was a ‘team’ event but it still kind of felt like we were two separate teams because we weren’t able to interact very well with the other van.

When we saw runner 12 coming in, we all began to cheer and ran across the finish line with her. I don’t know if it was lack of sleep, the excitement, or just the experience itself, but I did get a little teary as we ran across the finish line and were handed our medals!

We took a couple of team photo’s but for some reason when I tried to get them off of the girl who owned the camera’s Shutterfly they came out really small, so I’m not able to share them with you. I think we had a pretty good one at the first exchange too, when we were all in our blue. I feel bad saying “the girl” and “runner 12”. I didn’t know anyone from van 2 so I don’t really know their names or who did what which kind of makes me feel bad since we were a team.

It was definitely a fun and memorable experience! I was exhausted, not feeling well, out of my element, and dirty, but it was the most fun I had in a while! I would do it again in a heartbeat should the opportunity arise!

Here are some random pictures I forgot to include earlier:

The first one is of Amber and me. I feel like we got to be better friends during this experience. She has an amazing blog at mybirthwrite.com. Plus I met some other amazing women runners who I still keep in contact with via Facebook.

The second one is the Ragnar tattoo. Don’t worry, it was a temporary tattoo (that ended up lasting for several days to a week).

The final picture was my attempt at team spirit. Pink toes with the Ragnar Relay logo!

Up next: My half marathon the following week and more about my surgery!

Sleep well friends!

Ruh-Roh! and Ragnar

With school in session and a new grade level on my plate, free time is a precious commodity these days. I did however manage to escape at a decent hour today (only putting in 10 hours instead of my normal 12), so I was able to take care of business and still have time to write-yay!

The above GIF pretty much summed up my reaction when I spoke with a specialist regarding my MRI from the Chiropractor. She ordered and ultrasound to confirm something I had discovered at my yearly woman check up about a year earlier. I had a really large cyst in my abdomen and it seemed to have engulfed my right ovary. They were not concerned at the time even though at 8.2cm it was still a rather large cyst. The doctor I had seen previously said it was a ‘simple’ cyst (meaning it was fluid filled) which would most likely resolve itself and/or completely disappear and that they would be keeping and eye on it.

This appointment brought me the news that not only did my cyst not resolve itself, but it had grown almost 2cm and turned into a ‘complex’ cyst (no longer fluid filled and possibly a solid mass-which was why it appeared on the MRI apparently). She very gently informed me that it was time to consider a surgical removal based on the fact that it was on my right ovary. She said due to the size it could flip and cause torsion which would cut the blood supply off to my ovary and cause immense pain. She was amazed that I was not in pain as it was, because it was so large she could feel it upon a brief examination.  She said I more than likely would have to have my ovary and fallopian tube removed as well.

And if that wasn’t all…they saw another mass on my left side which was possibly another cyst of the same size. When I asked her to explain the sizing to me, she basically told me to imagine carrying two over-sized grapefruits around in my stomach. Hmmm. Not the greatest of imagery, but it did put it in perspective for me. She said they didn’t know if the second mass was attached to anything in my body, they wouldn’t know until they got in there.

I went home that evening with my head spinning. First the thought of having surgery was freaking me out of course. Secondly, even though I really had never entertained the idea that I would even have kids; the fact that the choice could possibly be taken away from me really upset me. She didn’t say for sure I wouldn’t be able to have children, but my chances would be lessened with the removal of one ovary and fallopian tube, and if they got in there and found something wrong with the other ovary then my chances would go from bad to non-existent.

I am a teacher. I have plenty of honorary nieces and nephews to love and spoil (technically they are my second cousins but that’s kind of an odd relationship to explain to a child so I am ‘Aunt Jamie’). I am single and creeping closer to my 40’s so I figured I was not in the place to have a kid. I also wasn’t sure if I would even be a good mother. Let’s be honest-after a day at school I am less than patient when I am at the store and some kid is running around like he/she owns the place. I didn’t think that kind of attitude would translate well if I were to go home to a child (even though everyone says it’s different when it’s YOUR child).

BUT (there is always an ever-present ‘but’ isn’t there?) I was upset that it was no longer my choice. I don’t know if I am able to explain it well. People pointed out to me that I had remarked on occasion that I wasn’t really sure I wanted to have children to begin with. Now that I possibly couldn’t I should be happy and not be too concerned about it since it wasn’t a factor anyway.

Still…the choice was gone. I was no longer in charge of my body or my decision regarding that subject. I also started feeling like maybe I was defective. On a particularly bad evening several weeks later, I was dwelling on the subject and started thinking “What if this is God’s plan for me because He knows I would be a terrible mother?” Yes, I did go to a pretty dark place in my thoughts.

I am not what you would call a religious person. I don’t go to church. I don’t follow a dogma of any kind of religion. I have never been baptized, nor do I pray on a regular basis. Still-I have always felt there is something greater than me whether it be a higher power, an omniscient being, an alien from another universe, etc. I have always felt that things happen for a reason, even though we don’t always understand that reason (I.E. both of my parents dying separately and way before their time).

I struggled with my thoughts about the subject for some time. It was always at the back of my mind, it effected my feelings toward myself, and it consumed me. I couldn’t (and really still feel like I can’t) put into words exactly what I felt or what my thought process was. People would question me and then look at me like I had two heads when I was trying to explain myself. Mostly I kept quiet and tried not to let anyone see really and truly how much it was bothering me.

Like I said, I feel like things happen for a reason. This was all going on around the time of my training for the full marathon. I don’t have an exact timeline because it’s all so jumbled at this point. I had decided that with my leg issue there was no way I could run the full marathon and I refused to have a WORSE time than my first marathon, so I emailed the race director (who was very nice) and dropped down to the half-marathon. I was beside myself with the stress of my so-far undetermined injury, trying to train for the full, finishing up standardized testing at school and getting ready to move my classroom, and then the worry about my upcoming surgery was icing on the cake (or the cherry on the sundae-whichever food related euphemism you like better).  I got a text message one day that provided me with the outlet and distraction I needed from what was going on with me.

Cliffhanger alert! Just kidding. I am going to finish this post and start another one solely dedicated to the Ragnar since it was so amazing. I will also be posting about my surgery as well, which will most likely have to be another separate post. In true Jamie fashion, I have rambled on long enough on this post and need to have a breaking point so people don’t want to break me!

Seems Like Old Times and Catching Up Part 1

Ah…Robin Williams. You will be missed!

It’s been so long since I’ve posted anything, I think I forgot how to do this. Between all my errands today I’ve been playing around with my site and trying to remember how to add and change things!

So my year has been interesting to say the least! I started training again last year for the Phoenix Marathon 2014. I wanted to run the full marathon a second time due to disappointing results from my first attempt. Granted there were unforeseen circumstances that I had no control over; but I still feel the need to redeem myself.

I began running again with my friend Meredith. She decided to do the half-marathon and agreed to do long runs with me. We resumed our old training schedule where we would run separately during the week (for the most part-sometimes we would venture out around 3:30am to get in a run before I had to start getting ready for school), and then we would do our long runs on Saturdays in her neighborhood.

Disclaimer: This flashback will be a little longer than the others as it sets the tone for the year…

I should have known I was in for an interesting year during one of our first long runs. It was an 8 miler and it was in October. The weather was finally cooperating and it was nice and cool in the mornings. We usually head out from her house around 6am for our ‘shorter’ long runs (if that makes any sense). We were having a great time running and chatting (read: she was chatting, and I was nodding because I can’t speak when I run due to all the huffing and puffing). We had just finished the end of a loop that completed our first three miles of eight. We had run to the canal, turned around and began heading back down a busy main road toward Meredith’s neighborhood. We were on a sidewalk (too dangerous the way the snow-birds drive in that area to run on the asphalt) that had a gentle decline.

Meredith had asked me a question (I think) and I turned to answer her and was not paying attention. If you are reading this and you are a “Zonie” (person from Arizona) then you know how the concrete slabs they use for sidewalks here tend to buckle and become uneven (foreshadowing!!). For the most part the sidewalk we were running down was pretty straight, but had a few curves. We had just come out of a curve, and the combination of turning my head to respond to Meredith and the slight unevenness of the sidewalk in front of me were apparently not a good combination!

My toe caught the (very slight) uneven spot in the square of sidewalk I had approached. The uneven spot was so tiny, had I been paying attention to where I was going, I still would have probably mi I saw everything in slow-motion at that point. I heard Meredith’s sharp intake of breath as I went flying across the sidewalk. I had been running at a pretty brisk pace at that point so when I stumbled I caught air and flew across that sidewalk. I knew I was going to fall and had no time to do anything but windmill my arms in an effort to stop myself.

I somehow managed to not drop anything as I fell. I put my hands out in front of me (miraculously still holding on to my water bottle).  I landed hard on my left knee and then skidded on my left leg as the momentum carried me farther still across the sidewalk. When I finally came to a stop, there was a moment when the only things I could hear were my ragged breathing and the blood rushing through my ears. I was struggling so hard not to cry in pain. I heard laughter bubble up out of Meredith as she asked, “Are you okay??”. I would have laughed too had our positions been reversed. I’m sure the way I went flying was pretty comical. Especially how far I traveled as I fell!

She must have seen my face at that point. I was biting the inside of my cheek, trying so hard to fight back the tears that were threatening to pour out of me. She rushed over and crouched down over me to make sure nothing was broken. I looked down at my hands which had hit the ground first. Miraculously I had very little damage to my left hand. The right one must have borne the brunt of the impact. This was the hand still holding my Nathan hand-held waterbottle. I raised my hand in front of me to get a better look, noticing how shaky I was from the after-effects of the adrenaline. My poor water bottle had indeed softened the blow for the delicate skin on my palms. The whole side was completely scratched up and dirty from being dragged across the ground. The plastic was marred and  the fabric on the holder pouch was ripped. I had fallen so hard half of the water had squirted out. After looking at the damage to the plastic, I was so thankful I had that bottle still in my hand and that damage had not been done to my skin!

My legs were another story:

They actually don’t look too bad in this picture. Meredith helped me up and we started walking the rest of the way down the busy road (which thankfully at that time in the morning was not overrun with traffic to see my attempt at flight) toward the turn back into Meredith’s neighborhood.

At that point my legs were stinging, my hands were aching and my whole body was shaking so badly I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to keep myself upright or collapse back down on the sidewalk that had just given me the smack-down.  Then Meredith said, “I guess that ends our training for today huh?” with a little laugh. I thought about it. Oh! How I thought about quitting! It would have been so easy, so nice, to just tuck my tail between my legs, go home and shower and go back to bed;  and I had a legitimate excuse! Instead I heard myself saying, “Nah, I’m good. Let’s just walk back to your house and then we can keep going”. Meredith looked at me with a mixture of surprise and doubt. “Are you sure? That was a pretty hard fall.” I thought about it some more. Should I just take the out and be done for the day? Admit defeat after only three miles? I knew I still had five left and that seemed like such a daunting task when I was still shaking.

I decided we would keep going, and if I needed to stop, we could cut our run short and walk to her house. So we pressed on.  The running probably helped my body from locking up right after that. Plus it was chilly enough that in my shorts, the skin on my legs was numb so I couldn’t really feel any pain. I did have to stop at one point and stretch out because the knee I landed on was tight. After that I just ran through the pain.

I didn’t give up and completed the last five miles of our run. It wasn’t a bad pace either!  It may not have been the brightest decision of my life, but I was proud of myself. We even had to run past Meredith’s house a little ways and then back to get in the full 8. When we finally stopped and walked around a little to cool off I glanced down at my (now very shaky) legs. I saw that as we had run they had become a little more bloody and it had pooled up around the cuts on both legs, and the cut on my right leg (being more severe from skidding across the sidewalk) had actually dripped down my leg a little. At that point I questioned my sanity for about half a second before I decided running like that made me feel like a bad-ass. I wonder what the guys riding past us on their bikes and the few cars that passed us thought about that?

By the time I got home my legs were in pretty bad shape. They had both started to bruise already and looked decidedly gross. Taking a shower was not the least painful thing I had ever done, but I knew I needed to wash the sidewalk out of the cut. I then proceeded to text my nurse friend from school, Peg, and ask her what I should clean it out with and put on it afterward. She advised me, I cleaned myself up (after showing my aunt who informed me it was gross-haha). This was the end result:

I’m not overly dramatic or anything!

I ended up taking off about two weeks from running. The next day I was very sore (like I had hit a sidewalk or something-imagine that) and the cut on my right leg was just plain nasty. To this day I still have a bruise on my left knee from where I hit (is that even normal?? It’s been 10 months!) and a couple of nice little scars on my right leg. The scar on the right leg is just under my knee so it’s pretty visible when I wear a dress or skirt (which I never worried about until now because I used to not be a skirt/dress person-more on that later). It’s nice to be able to tell people when they ask me what happened that I injured myself running. I generally leave out the part about me being as graceful as an elephant and tripping and falling on my face.

Seeing as it’s getting late already on this lovely Sunday evening and I have to be up in a few hours to get ready for school I will have to continue my year in review post. Hopefully I can cram in the rest of my year (or most of it) into one post on the next go-round!

Catch you on the flip-side!

Out of My Comfort Zone and Training Update

It’s been three weeks since I started my “modified” eating program and started holding myself accountable again. I decided I couldn’t go ‘no carb’ as my doctor suggested, nor can I function without a Diet Dr. Pepper. So I’m doing no carb in the morning and no carb at lunch and reserving my carbs for dinner. I’m also allowing myself one Diet Dr. Pepper per day to keep my headaches at bay.

I have lost six pounds in the last three weeks. To a lot of people, that may not seem like much but to me that’s a lot. It means what I’m doing so far is working. I’m still not convinced about the olive oil. My doctor wanted me to have four tablespoons a day. That’s 16 points on Weight Watchers. I’m allowed 26. I’ve been having 2 tablespoons a day which is my compromise. I don’t cook, nor do I eat anything that would go well with olive oil (yes I am a picky eater), so I’ve been mixing it with orange juice and drinking it. Not my delivery of choice, but I tried drinking it straight and that did not end well. Even though I’m not convinced, I’m still doing it although it aggravates me to think almost two full days worth of Points Plus are being used up by oil.

I have my follow-up about my ultrasound and my blood work with my doctor next Wednesday. She’s either going to tell me to keep doing what I’m doing, or yell at me for not doing what she told me to do. We shall see…

This is working for me so far. We’ll see what happens when I start running again. Which is tomorrow.

It’s been a nice break since March, but it’s time to get back to it. I am looking forward to getting back in the game. Running season in Arizona will be here before you know it. Considering it was 119 degrees yesterday running season is not here yet. It’s around 90 degrees at 5am so I will be taking my training indoors for a few months. I’m not a fan of the treadmill. I find it boring and the ‘mills at the gym have a ridiculous 30 minute timer on them so I always have to stop and re-start after my half hour is up.

Although I still am not happy with my gym, I’m looking forward to heading over there tomorrow and getting started! I’m very out of practice. It amazes me how painfully slow of a process it is to get back into the groove of running. Mental note: next time don’t take a break.

Wish me luck!
😉

Marathon Milestone-The Last 6 Miles

So someone emailed me asking when I was going to finish posting about my marathon experience. I honestly thought I had! I had it written and had it ready to go, but apparently I was distracted or called away from the computer as I found it sitting in my draft screen waiting to be brought into creation. No wonder I didn’t get any comments on it! Ooops! My bad! For those of you who emailed me and brought this oversight to my attention…many thanks!

Here it is…

(continued from previous)

I think the last six miles of this marathon were the hardest things I have ever done in my whole life. I wanted to cry (I teared up at one point, but I didn’t do let loose for fear I wouldn’t stop). I was both physically and mentally exhausted at this point.

This is where my story takes an interesting turn. You can interpret it however you’d like; but this is my experience from the last six:

My story left off at Mile 20

I reached mile 20 and there was another machine there to (I’m assuming) capture our timing chips. Mine had long ago fallen off of my bib. I managed to catch it before it completely wiggled free, and ended up threading it through my SPI belt. The weird picture-frame sized timing devices were fastened to the back of the bibs with no more than a little glue it seemed. I had actually seen several of them laying on the road as my run progressed. I had started feeling bad and began gathering the ones I saw and adding them to mine on my belt. I kept envisioning all of those poor people who just ran a marathon getting a “did not finish” because the defective timing chips fell off. I figured at least I could help them finish by carrying them across the finish line with me, even though they wouldn’t be the correct time for the individual people. I had about 5 or 6 by the time I reached the 20 mile mark. I asked the people manning the equipment at mile 20 what I should do with them. They said I could just turn them in, but at that point I didn’t know which one was mine and I didn’t want to get a “did not finish” either so they told me I could just keep them with me.

I ran on. At that point my whole body was starting to hurt. My stomach issue was now the least of my concerns. I was pretty proud of myself for keeping myself fueled and hydrated though. I was starting to lag again. The route had turned into a familiar area. I had lived in this part of Mesa before my parents moved into the house they bought. I was young, so I had very foggy memories of that time, but still remembered playing with my brother and some of the neighbor kids. Although I hadn’t been in that area in a while, it was familiar to me.

I hit mile 21 and I’m not going to lie…it wasn’t pretty. I was sweaty, and red and huffing and puffing and I wanted very much to just sit down. Then I saw one of the sixth-grade teachers from my school. She was manning one of the water stations! She saw me a second after I recognized her and yelled my name and started clapping. I almost started crying. She ran over and gave me a hug. I apologized for being sweaty and gross and she started laughing. “You’re running a marathon! You’re entitled to be sweaty! I’m so happy I got to see you!” I picked up some more water, had them refill my containers once again, and one of the girls helping out asked me if I wanted her to splash me with some water. At that point it had to have been at least 70 degrees. I could already feel my skin burning so I gave her a very enthusiastic yes.

Little did I know, the other girls were excited about the prospect of throwing water on me too. Soon I was having cups of water thrown at me and on me from every direction. I even got one right in the eyes. I’m sure it was funny to anyone running by, but I was thoroughly enjoying every cold wet moment of it. If I listened closely enough I could probably have heard my skin sizzling. I was most definitely refreshing! I bid my farewell and thanks to the girls and took off again.

It was so hot out I dried almost immediately. I started lagging again. I had started playing a game in my head with this girl who would run past me and then I would catch up and pass her. We traded places a few times before she finally caught up to me and started talking to me. It turned out we were both about the same age. She was married and works for the city ( I think…my brain wasn’t fully functional at this point). We kept each other entertained for the next mile or so. We decided to keep running together because we were keeping each other sane. She told me her name, but for the life of me I can’t remember it (and I do feel horrid about that). Becky? Michele? Jennifer? Regardless it was a very girly name. One that could not be mistaken for a boy or girl name.  (the importance of the name will come in later…just be patient).

By mile 23 I was ready to call it quits. I have never felt anything like what I was feeling at that time. Even my hair was hurting. I was so physically exhausted I didn’t know how I was going to finish. I knew that if I even sat down for a second, I could quite conceivably fall asleep. Me and my new running buddy started setting goals. “Let’s run to the first blue trash can and then walk until the third blue can”, “Run to the stoplight and then walk through the intersection”. That kind of thing. It kind of worked, in that we were still running but were mentally giving ourselves a break.

That’s when things got a little eerie.

A dragonfly seemed to be pacing us. My new friend even remarked how odd it was to see a dragonfly this time of year. I had seriously been on the verge of stopping. Just stopping moving. I would have stopped and stood rooted in my spot until someone could come physically move me. My body was being pushed past its limits and I just wanted to…stop. Then the dragonfly showed up.

I had been thinking about my mom and dad at various points during the day. My dad died in August about 7 years ago. This May it will be two years for my mom. I couldn’t help but wonder what they would think about all of this. I had just started running when my mom got sick. My dad had never known me as a runner. What would they think about their daughter the marathon runner? If they had been alive would they come out and support me?

My mom had this thing about dragonflies. She was a camp councilor one summer and there was a little girl named Jamie that reminded her of me. They had an inside joke about dragonflies and if one of them was having a bad day, all they would have to do was say, “dragonflies” and they would laugh or smile. She told me the story and it made me laugh too. Every time I could hear in her voice she was having a tough day (over the phone since she moved to Georgia) I would say “dragonflies” and she would have a better day. Dragonflies were her thing.

When I first started running I swear I would see a dragonfly every time I ran, no matter the time of day or the year. I always thought it was my mom checking up on me or saying hi or supporting me. No, I’m not a weirdo who thinks my mom died and became a dragonfly. I just like to believe her and my dad are both looking out for me wherever they are and sending a dragonfly is my mom’s way of saying hello.

So this dragonfly was keeping up with us for about a half a mile I swear. It would zoom ahead and come back, it would wind between the two of us, but it never left. I gave myself a little mental pep talk and thought of my mom telling me, “You’ve come this far. You have run 23 miles. You only have 3.2 left to go. I know you are tired, I know you are hurting and I know you can do this!” I pushed on. I knew I didn’t want to quit. If I had to crawl on my hands and knees to finish I would.

Eventually the dragonfly left. Every once in a while I would see a dragonfly zoom past us. I don’t know if it was the same one, but every time I caught a glimpse, I sped up a little. My new friend and I (did I mention I feel really, really, really bad that I can’t remember her name?) kept pushing on. We talked about random things. Most of which I can’t remember. I was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and not falling down. Soon I looked up and realized where we were.

We had one more down hill section, and a corner to turn, then the finish line would be within our sights. I told her as much and she echoed my sentiments about wanting to be done. Mentally I was still ready to run, but my body was shutting down on me. My legs gave out a few times, but I managed to stay upright and get myself together. We ran down the last hill, which was a welcome respite. I love it when gravity lends a hand with propelling me forward. I stumbled a little on some loose rock at the bottom and Ms. X reached out to steady me. I told her I was so glad she started talking to me. She told me the same and added, “I may have quit back there if I hadn’t had you to keep me company”. We agreed to cross the finish line together.

We rounded the corner after the hill and we entered Bass Pro Drive. Home of the finish line! I heard a cowbell behind me and turned around. My friend Elaine was behind me on her bike ringing her cowbell like mad! She was a sight for sore eyes! She told me I was almost there. I had a moment of panic when we turned that corner and I still could not see the finish. She informed me I had one more little corner and I should be able to see it. She was going to ride ahead and tell Meredith and Dave I was coming.

We rounded that corner, my exhausted friend and I, and there through the palm trees we could see the banner flapping in the breeze that marked the end of my 6 month journey. I couldn’t help myself. My face broke out into a cheesy grin and I started to run in earnest towards the finish. As I drew nearer a bubble of laughter erupted and I raised my arms in triumph. I had done it! I did not give up on myself. I. Just. Ran. A. Marathon. 26.2 miles of literal blood, sweat, and tears! I dug deep down inside and pushed with all I had and sprinted to the finish. Dave and Meredith were somehow in the finish chute (I later found out our friend Rob managed to disassemble one of the barricades and they snuck through). I was grateful because not only was I really glad to see them, Dave got some really great action shots of me crossing the finish!

This is me and my anonymous friend right before the finish.

I ran through the finish line and ran straight into my group of friends. I was afraid I wasn’t going to stop. I had given my everything at that last moment. Someone handed me a cold wet washcloth and it was the best thing I had ever felt. I wiped it over my face, my neck and my shoulders. It was cooling and refreshing. Then the hugging started. When you are a runner finishing a race and someone wants to hug you, you don’t think about how unbelievably gross you are. You just do it!

First I got hugs from Meredith and Elaine who both wanted pictures, then I got hugs from Dave and Rob and my new friend. We took some pictures together and then Meredith took off to find her Ragnar friends who had gone to find their bags.

Me and Meredith. She finished about 45 minutes ahead of me.

 

Me and my supportive buddy. (Who took off and I never saw again after that picture)

This is my favorite picture. Just look at that hair flying and cheesy grin would ya! This was taken by Dave right as I crossed that finish line.

Soon we set off to the finishers “expo” in search once more of Meredith’s friends who were nowhere to be found. Everyone was closing up shop. I was disappointed. Rubio’s was one of the vendors and they had run out of food. Almost everyone had run out of product by the time I had finished. That’s  why everyone was closing up shop. I did manage to snag and OtterPop and a piece of bread with butter. I ended up ditching the bread because it kept sticking in my throat. My stomach was still rebelling, but darn it if that OtterPop wasn’t the best thing I ever tasted (next to those orange slices from earlier of course.

I had actually seen this sign as I was running. I saw several that said things like “Me and Jamie”, “Go Jamie”, “Go ME”, etc. At the time I had pretended they were for me. My own personal cheering section to keep me motivated. I even had stopped to take  a picture of this one early on:

As it turns out, the signs were for me! Well for Meredith and I. Elaine had ridden her bike along the course and hung all these amazing signs! I didn’t know that when I snapped that picture. It was awesome!

Dave also had this for me:

I was sitting at that point because my legs could no longer support me. I also had my shoes off but you can’t see it in the picture. I was checking to make sure I had all my toenails still. I had a swollen foot, and a wicked bruise on one of my big toes; but other than that had no blisters or bleeding piggies! I got super lucky! Soon we met up with Meredith’s friends and we ended up parting ways. They went back to her house and I headed home in search of a shower.

After the finish line, it was kind of anticlimactic ending. I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t disappointed in the way things ended. I was kind of hoping to see the little girls and my parent from school, but I took longer to finish than I planned (they did tell me later they were there for about 45 minutes and it was fun to cheer for and watch people finish). I had also been secretly hoping that my family was going to surprise me and show up to the finish. I knew it was a long shot, because I knew everyone had things they needed to do that day; but the hope was still there.

My aunt and uncle told me they were proud of me when I got home. I was pretty proud of myself actually. I had moments of self-doubt. A lot of moments of self-doubt. We are our own worst enemies that is for sure. That’s  something I need to work on.

When things started to get hard, when I started feeling sick again, when I was hurting, when I was ready to throw in the towel; someone would run by me at the right moment and say something supportive. My friends all showed up when I needed them along the route.  I had some support from a dragonfly, and I had my guardian angel running beside me.

Later when I was trying to find my time (which was missing for about a week before they found me because that timing device apparently malfunctioned), I looked up the bib number of my running buddy to find out her name once and for all. It was very odd. It gave me goosebumps. It had her listed as being named “Marty” which I would have remembered because that was my father’s name. It also had her listed as being in the 50-54 age group (which she clearly was not). My father was 50 when he died.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. I’m not a religious person. I’m not into a bunch of superstitious mumbo jumbo or anything like that. I do believe things happen for a reason though. I believe there are things out there we can’t explain. I took the dragonfly and the person running beside me and supporting me when I needed it most being named Marty, as my mom and dad being with me on this important day and helping me achieve what I once thought was impossible. Some people think that’s a little crazy but I like to believe they were thinking about me and loving me from wherever they are.

My final time was 6:07:37. My goal was just to finish. My secret goal (I voiced to no one but myself) was to finish a lot sooner than that. I’m not disappointed though. I had a lot of setbacks during training. I did pretty good considering the circumstances. I ran a marathon with what could either be food poisoning or the flu! I ran alone for most of it, and being inside my head for that long was a battle in itself!

I am a offical marathoner!

Running a marathon was never on my list of things to do. I will run another one. I want to run it better and earn a new PR. Plus I have to earn my “S”. So I can say I run marathon(s)!

I couldn’t walk for the next 3 days so I was glad I had arranged for a sub for that Monday. When I got back to school this was waiting for me on my desk from my friend Melinda:

Support makes all the difference in the world! Knowing people support and are cheering for you can keep you going long after you cross the finish line!

I will keep writing this blog even though it started out as a blog to document my training for family and friends. My story isn’t finished yet.

(I love this)

Marathon Milestone Part II

To continue…(and I will once again preface this with my apologies for being so long-winded. I just can’t say I ran and ran and ran some more and then I ran more and then I finished the end. I have to give details!)

The day of my first marathon dawned bright and early. Okay it really wasn’t bright but it was certainly early. Or depending how you look at it…very late. I had gone to bed after my preparations around 9:00pm with the plan of tossing and turning for an hour or so before falling asleep and then waking up with my alarm at 3:00am. The first part of my plan went smashingly…I did toss and turn, imagining the events of the next day. I also managed to fall asleep. I didn’t quite wake up with my alarm however.

I woke up at 12:45. It took a moment to figure out why I was awake. Generally when I fall asleep, I’m down until my bladder insists I wake up, or until my alarm wakes me up. As my foggy head cleared I realized I wasn’t feeling so well. My skin was hot and prickly though I felt chilled and my stomach was turning. I was so nauseous and I had a headache. I got up and popped some Pepto-Bismol tablets. I was hoping it was indigestion maybe from dinner, so I grabbed one of the bagels I had gotten for my morning fuel. I tore off a corner of it and shoved it in my mouth, hoping the bread-like substance would help calm my stomach. I ended up chewing on that one piece for about 10 minutes or so before I chugged a bunch of water to wash it down. My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow it. I put the rest of the bagel down and tried to go back to sleep.

I ended up tossing and turning for the rest of the night (morning?). I would get waves of nausea that would wake me up just as I had started to fall back asleep it seemed. It felt like my alarm was screaming at me by the time it went off at 3. I dragged myself out of bed to wash my face and brush my teeth then crawled back into my bed to just sit and stare off into space for about 10 minutes. I wasn’t feeling any better. I thought about trying to eat more of my bagel, but the thought of food was not appealing. I spent another 10 minutes debating whether or not I was going to be able to run.

I finally came to the conclusion that I had to try. Not even attempting to run was not an option. I didn’t want everyone thinking I wussed out because I was so nervous, and I certainly didn’t want anyone giving me that look of pity that indicated they thought I just couldn’t do it. What if my family decided to come and surprise me at the finish line? One of my parents at school told me she wanted to bring her girls down to see me finish, that it would be a great example for them to see ‘girl power’ in action. One of the teachers from my school said she was going to come cheer me on… I couldn’t let everyone else down; but mostly I couldn’t let myself down. For the last six months, this marathon has been a big focus in my life. My training, my eating habits, my sleep patterns; everything was centered around this day.

I got dressed, taking care to make sure I had everything I was supposed to such as my heart rate strap, my glide (for chafing), I placed my inhaler in the zipper pocket of my Nike capri running pants, etc. I taped up my foot, taking care to wrap it per the KT Tape website tutorial for both Achilles and heel pain. I got my shoes on and laced up, put my extra layers on that I would be shedding, and put some make-up on to try to hide the evidence of my sleepless night. I gathered my things into a tote I received as my “swag bag” from the Women’s Running Magazine half. I made sure I packed flip-flops for after, clothing to change into if needed, a bottle of water. Anything I thought I may possibly need went into that bag. Have I mentioned I am an over-planner???

I laid all my belts out on the bed and made sure I had my Cliff Shot Blocks secured into the loops on my water belt. I double checked I had all my stomach medicines and ibuprofen in the extra belt as well as my cell phone. I knew my battery wouldn’t last using it as an iPod, but I wanted to take it with me just in case. As I got everything ready I started feeling nauseous again. I (for some reason) kicked off my shoes and dashed into the bathroom just in time. In an effort not to be too graphic I will just say I threw up about twice. I sat on the bathroom floor afterwards shaking, with my eyes watering. I felt horrid. I was convinced then and there I would not be able to finish even if I tried, so why bother trying?

I sat there feeling miserable for a few more minutes making sure I wasn’t going to get sick again. I started thinking again about disappointing people and that look they would be giving me. Isn’t it amazing how much can be said with just a look? Feelings, thoughts, ideas, even whole conversations can be telegraphed through someones eyes and the set of their mouths. I was not looking forward to being on the receiving end of those.

Then I started thinking about my brother. I really didn’t want to have to call him and tell him I had failed before I even started. Michael has been nothing but supportive of me. He’s told me over and over how proud of me he is. He’s encouraged me when I was feeling weak, he’s been my own private motivator. He is all I have left of my mom and my dad, if I let him down I kind of felt like I’d be letting them down too. If they were both alive would they have come to see me run? Would they give me that look too when I quit before I started? I know Michael would be supportive of me no matter what, but he seemed so amazed at the idea of his sister running a marathon, that it physically hurt me to think about disappointing him.

All the negative things people have said to me in off-handed but blow-striking ways started going through my head. “You can’t run a marathon”, “You are insane”, “I knew you were going to quit”, “You’ve never been able to finish anything”, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing”, “What are you thinking?”, “You’re not a runner”. (Plus more). Did I want all of those things to become true? That’s what would happen if I didn’t go. Yes, I was sick; but for the last month I’d been sick off and on with weird stomach things. Would I be using this as an excuse? I wasn’t sure if it was what I ate for dinner or if I had the crud everyone around me seemed  to crop up with. I swear if I could’ve walked around in a protective bubble the week before the marathon, I would have. I used hand sanitizer so much my hands were dry. I didn’t want to get sick.

And here I was on the bathroom floor, feeling lower than low, feeling sorry for myself and kicking my own ass. The ass kicking part worked. I refused to listen to all of those non-supportive people who were whispering in my ear trying to infuse me with doubt for the last month. I took a shaky breath, stood up, brushed my teeth again and went to put my shoes back on. To all the doubters, the nay-sayers, the non-believers I was saying, “Watch me do this”.

I had the resolve to get me out the door, but I still wasn’t sure what would happen down the road. My stomach was still feeling a little rough so I sent a quick text to Meredith saying I would be driving myself. I told her I had gotten sick and was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to finish and didn’t want to be stuck at the finish, sick and waiting for her to give me a ride back. I probably could have called anyone in my family to come and pick me up had that been the case, but I didn’t want to see that look. Her reply to me was, “It’s just nerves”. I’ve had nerves before. Nerves don’t make me feel like I have the flu. I told her I was going to drive myself and that I would meet her at the buses.

All the way there I felt light-headed and nauseous. I was starting to get nervous then. In all the drama of the morning I had forgotten to be nervous about the race. At that point I was more nervous about being sick on the bus. School buses are a nauseating experience on a normal day much less when I was already feeling queasy. When I pulled into the parking area,  it was a surreal experience. The finish line was in a huge shopping center. Bass Pro Shop was one of the main anchors and we were to finish on Bass Pro Drive. I turned onto Bass Pro Drive and saw about 25 or more school buses lined up waiting to shuttle us to the start. It seemed like the parking lot lights were a dim glow compared to the lights shining from so many buses! It gave everything an odd yellow hue. And these were  just the shuttles for the full marathon. There were other buses in another lot for the half-marathon as well.

I parked and sent a couple of texts to Meredith to let her know where I parked and to ask when they’d be arriving. I got no response, so I called a few times. No response again. Either she didn’t have her phone or she was pissed at me from bowing out on the carpool with her and her Ragnar friends. (I found out later she didn’t have her phone). My stomach sank even more as I realized I’d be on the bus alone. I was in line about to go on when I heard someone yell my name.

It was my friend Augie! We had gone to high school together. Both of us were working hard to lose our unwanted weight and we had both started running. I had kind of prodded Augie into doing the marathon as he had completed his first half in November. Unfortunately schedule conflicts prevented us from doing any training together. I was hoping to see him at the finish line and here he was!  I got out of the bus line and went to the back of the line with him. I was so happy to see him! He was with a friend of his from the gym and told me several other people he knew would be running as well. The three of us got on the bus together and off we went!

Anyone who has lived in Arizona has had to taken a bus to go tubing at the Salt River. It’s almost like a rite of passage. Those bus drivers have driven that route so much it was old hat to them, and they scared the life out of people on a daily basis by zig-zagging around the windy narrow roads through the desert at hight speeds to the drop off point for tubing. This bus ride was not as bad as a romp up those scary roads, but it was pretty close. It was pitch black and we still had to follow several windy roads. I had to take a few deep breaths and center myself to keep from losing it right there on the bus.

By the time we pulled in I was ready to blow and needed to get off! We quickly exited onto the shooting grounds of Usery Pass Mountain. As children my brother and I had gone to Usery Mountain quite frequently and had explored many hills and gone on many hikes together. It’s full of cacti and other desert plants and animals. Stepping off of the bus and taking another deep breath, I smelled the scent of my childhood.

The Arizona desert (especially when it’s damp from morning dew or a rain storm) has a very distinctive smell. It’s clean and fragrant and invigorating. By the time we walked through the throng of people to stand in line at the porta-potties, my stomach had settled down somewhat. The three of us were nervous as this was all of our first marathon. We wanted to make sure we emptied our bladders before we took off. I’m glad we got in line when we did! Although there had to have been at least 20 porta-potties set up, the lines were long and getting longer by the minute. Everyone had the same idea.

After we finished we walked past the people huddled around fires and space heaters. It gets quite chilly in the desert when it’s not the high point of the day,  and there was a slight breeze that added to the chill. I was glad I opted for a clearance jacket and my $5 Lost Dutchman long-sleeved shirt from last year. They were keeping me warm! A DJ was keeping everyone lively until the start time. Augie and I both looked around for our respective friends but didn’t find them. We didn’t have long to wait before they started moving us toward the start line. They played The Star Spangled Banner which was awesome. There was not a peep until the end when everyone started cheering. The we saw this:

They were lighting off fireworks! It was so cool because they were directly overhead. The magnitude of the moment finally hit me. I was about to do something few people ever do (okay most people have no actual desire to do so-but still! ). I was going to be running a marathon! I quickly got my bib pinned to my tank top underneath my Lost Dutchman Shirt. I had tried to put it on the bib holder that was on my fuel belt, but with that weird picture-frame timing thing, it just wasn’t working. It made it way too stiff. As we walked down the road to the start we were being serenaded by men in kilts playing bag pipes. Another surreal moment. It seemed so fitting! It had started to get light so we took a few quick pictures before we lined up. Here are Augie and I pre-race:

 Augie said he’d stay with me for the first mile and then he’d be taking off. I was okay with that because right now I am still a slow runner and with my stomach doing somersaults I didn’t know how I’d be doing anyway. I did a quick double-check of all my gear, threw my ($3 clearance find from Wal-Mart) jacket on the side of the road, and we lined up. I knew everything that was going to be shed would be picked up and donated to charity, so I didn’t mind leaving some pieces behind.

As we waited I looked around at the people surrounding me. There were people of every race, color, nationality, size, shape, orientation and fitness level. I could tell who the professional runners were. The had the true “runners body” and had assumed their positions at the front of the pack. I was in awe of how many different body types and ages were out there. It was just further proof to me that there is no set image a person has to fall into to “look like a runner”. We were all there for one united reason and at that moment in time we were all kindred with nothing setting us apart from one another. It was an amazing feeling.

There was the boom of a cannon that resonated through the Arizona desert and we were off! As with most races we had to kind of shuffle until we got past the actual start line and then as the pack spread we could speed up. People were passing me left and right but I was passing people too. I quickly shed my gloves and my long-sleeved shirt (within the first 10 minutes) as it was proving to be a warmer day than forecasted. The sun had barely started peeking out from behind the mountains (Arizona also has some of the most amazing sunrises and sunsets). I had to have been in the upper 50’s already and it was barely 6:30.

As we passed the first mile-marker Augie took off with a “good luck”and left me to my own devices. I was okay with that. I was behind the 4:55 pacer and that was where I wanted to stay for the time being. A minute or so later I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over to see Meredith and her Ragnar peeps. They were running behind the same pacer as me! I was happy to see them. I knew I couldn’t keep up for very long however and fell behind them as I struggled to get my inhaler out of my zipper pocket. I usually take it before I start running but I somehow forgot, and could now feel the familiar tightening of my chest. I took my two puffs, stuffed it back in my pants and almost immediately felt relief.

The first 6 miles of the run were very scenic. We ran through the desert areas and into an upscale neighborhood called Las Sendas. Las Sendas itself is also very scenic. They are larger floor plan homes with desert landscaping. There are also a few scattered parks and desert-y areas which makes it seem less like a neighborhood and more like a desert area with a few house placed here and there. Although it was a nice area to run in full of very nice people who came out onto their driveways and front yards to cheer us on (minus one very crabby lady who publicly complained via Facebook that her sleep was ruined at 7am), it was also the hilliest part of our run.

The first two miles of the run had been nice as it was all downhill and turned into a nice flat area. When we turned into Las Sendas I had to wonder if San Fransisco had given birth to a mini-city with cacti. It seemed like the whole time we were in Las Sendas we were going up. There was maybe one downhill part and then back up again. My legs were getting tired already!

We then crossed over to the Red Mountain Park area (another really nice neighborhood with sprawling, nicely landscaped yards) and I realized I’d be nearing the point where my friend from school, Melinda, had said she’d come out and cheer me on. She lived over in the area and said she might pop by. I debated shooting her a text and asking if she’d bring me some more Immodium. I had taken some before I left the house and gave my last two pills to Augie’s friend at the start line. She was stressing out because she left hers in the car, so I felt bad and gave her what I had left.

I didn’t need the Immodium for any particular reason at that point. I was still  nauseous and had stopped twice already to dry-heave and take deep breaths so I wouldn’t vomit. I thought maybe it would help with that aspect of whatever was going on with me. I opted not to stop and text her,  because I had stopped already to make myself not throw-up and didn’t want to waste anymore time trying to text.

As we exited the Red Mountain area I saw a woman waving a neon green sign on the corner. As I got closer she started yelling, “Go Jamie! I’m so proud of you! Go! Go! Go! Run girl!” I had my own personal cheering section! She had everyone else yelling my name too from the policemen who were helping control traffic, to the random guy sitting in his car waiting to go. I swear she even started doing some of the cheers we taught the girls earlier this school year when we were coaching! It was amazing!

That really helped light a fire under me when I was starting to lag. I still didn’t feel well, but the hills were behind me and that little moment of support helped fuel me to keep going. I even ate one of my Cliff Shot Blocks and drank some water. It didn’t sit to well on my stomach at first and I had to force it to stay down, but it did.

I could feel my phone vibrate once in a while and I took it out to see lots of text messages from people wishing me well. I was sending my friend Debi updates on my progress and she’d send me notes back like “You are awesome! Keep  going!”. It really helped having had Melinda there cheering for me, and having people sending me the encouraging messages. The volunteers along the course route were awesome too! At every water stop they were fully staffed and were yelling encouragement.  I was finding that this race was one of the most well-organized races I had seen. There were plenty of water stops, plenty of porta-potties along the route, traffic was kept at bay by the wonderful officers from the Mesa Police Department and the race volunteers whom were helping direct us were so supportive and friendly.

Along the route I kept forcing myself to eat a Shot Block every odd mile and I would stop at every water station for a cup of Poweraide and a cup of water. At one of the stations they had bananas and orange slices. I went for the orange slices and until the day I die I am going to insist that those were the best damn oranges I’ve ever eaten. I wasn’t hungry per se, but they just sounded really good and hit the spot! It got to the point I started grabbing two cups of water and even had them start refilling my water bottles. It was getting hot! I was sweaty from top to bottom and even with all the fluids, had yet to need to make a stop which is odd for me. I swear I have a bladder the size of an infants and have to stop all the time no matter what I’m doing. It didn’t really concern me because A. I was still focused on deep breathing and nausea fighting, and B. I was sweating so much that was probably why I didn’t have to pee.

The heat was dragging me down around mile 17 and I was starting to slow down. I was running closer to where we were to make a turn to head west (into the sun it felt like) and I was in my own little world.

In case I haven’t mentioned it before…I have a very eclectic mix of music on my iPod. I decided for this race I was going to put anything and everything on a playlist that I thought would help keep me going. If you haven’t seen the YouTube videos of The Harlem Shake going around I highly suggest you check one out. I’ve seen a couple that cracked me up so I threw that song into my mix as well.

It had popped onto my iPod and I was just getting ready to start actually doing the Harlem Shake as I was running just to keep myself entertained, when someone in a black pick-up truck drove by me honking the horn like a crazy person. I had no clue who it was so I just waved and kept going. A few minutes later I heard someone honking and screaming from behind me so I turned just in time to see that same black pick-up coming from the other direction. My friend Vickie was leaning out the window and pounding on the side of the truck as she yelled. I just knew that had to be her daughter (my friend Kellie’s) truck. They had driven by to see if they could spot me! I was so excited! Now that I knew who they were I gave them a whole-hearted wave and even a little jump of excitement. I’m sure the people running behind me thought I was a little crazy as well, but I didn’t care!

A little farther down the road I saw Kellie and Vickie standing on the side of the road yelling for me! I ran a little faster to get to them and the both gave me high-five’s and told me to keep going. They promptly got back into the truck and as I turned the corner, drove by me one last time honking and waving. Again, that show of support gave me another much-needed boost!

Around mile 20 I started to lose faith in myself. My stomach didn’t feel 100%, but the urge to purge was not so insistent anymore. I took a picture of the 20 mile sign and posted it to Facebook with the caption  “Somebody slap me”. I was having to run/walk at this point. It was hellishly hot, my head was pounding and felt like someone was jabbing an ice pick into my brain. I was still getting supportive texts from Debi, but didn’t have the energy or the brain power to open up my SPI belt and take my phone out. The crowd of runners had thinned considerably, and I was starting to worry about the sag wagon coming for me. I still had plenty of time according to my watch, about an hour and 45 minutes. That should be plenty of time to run 6 miles. Six miles were nothing!

Okay maybe six miles is nothing at the beginning of a race, or if you’re running a 10k or maybe even a half marathon; but after having already ran 20 miles, 6 miles felt like the most daunting task I had ever faced. A million times along the course I had wanted to quit. I wanted to just give in and admit defeat, but a million times I gave myself a reason to keep moving and not give in. The urge to quit during that first 20 miles however was not as great as what I experienced in the last six miles.

The last six miles were action packed and now that I’m clearly thinking, a little eerie. As I write this, I’m now thinking the last six and the weird part of my story deserve their own post.

To be continued…again…

Marathon Milestone Part 1

Hello friends! Yes I have been horrible at posting lately. Life has been a little heavy on the nutty side, and I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to dedicate to writing. I am going to apologize in advance as this post will be heavy on the photo side and probably pretty wordy too! I FINALLY RAN MY FIRST FULL MARATHON!!!! Super-exciting and action packed!

My first full-marathon was March 2, 2013. It was an exciting day for many reasons! Before I go into all the details I need to back up a day to the eve of the marathon.

I did not take the day off of work. I had pre-arranged to have a substitute on standby for the Monday following the marathon because I had no idea what condition I would be in physically. I felt bad taking that Friday off, and I knew I would be a big ball of nerves sitting at home anyway so off to school I went.

The plan was for me to go to school, head over to Road Runner Sports after school to pick up my bib and my shirt, and then I was to meet Meredith and her Ragnar friends for a pre-race dinner. Meredith ran the Florida Keys Ragnar with an amazing group of people. Two of them were coming out to run the Phoenix Marathon so they said they would pace her and help her get across the finish line, which I thought was totally cool.

I was trying to finish up some things at school when I received a text message from my friend Lauren. Lauren is one of my absolute favorite people. We worked together at my first school and quickly became friends. We don’t get to hang out as often as I’d like, but we still have the occasional lunch and check up on each other. She had asked me if I got anything in my box from her that day. I had told her no and she said she sent me something and they said it was supposed to be delivered that day.

Although school was out I hustled over to the office in hopes the staff was still there and inquired if I had received anything. Our principal’s secretary said they hadn’t had a chance to sort the mail but I was welcome to go through the pile. My little hand soon came in contact with an envelope with my name on it and I got excited. The ladies that were still in the office told me to open it there so I did. This is what was in it:

and on the inside:

I  started getting all teary-eyed right then and there while I was reading it! She had worked so hard to make me this beautiful display of encouragement! All those pictures were taken from various points in my training. She had ‘borrowed’ them from my Facebook page! This was the most thoughtful, surprising, and heartwarming thing. I never expected it! Lauren was going to have to miss seeing me cross the finish line because she was going to be attending another friend of ours’ bachelorette weekend, and wanted me to know she would still be supporting me every step of the way.

That definitely made my day! I was so excited I had to run around and show everyone just like a little kid. They all probably thought it was nuts; but I just wanted to share my joy! I quickly finished up at school and headed to Road Runner to pick up my race package! Meredith had taken the day off and she and her Ragnar friends were hanging out at a spring training game (Arizona is a happening place this time of the year with baseball spring training games!). They had picked up their packets early so I had no idea what to expect. Meredith had sent me a text saying the shirts were ‘nice’ so I was anxious to get mine.

It wasn’t as crowded as I thought it was going to be. They even had a little race expo out in the parking lot that I wasn’t expecting. I was even more excited to go in then. I love a good expo! I bypassed most of the booths so I could go pick up my info before I took my time to wander around. I didn’t have to wait at all to pick up my bib number and was told I needed to go inside to pick up my shirt and my bag. They had me walk over a blue mat with wires under it, with my bib in hand,  to make sure it registered and called out my name to make sure it was me. Everything seemed to be in good order so I went into the store. The bibs were different from any I had ever seen. Normally in a race, I’ve either gotten a D-tag for my shoe (the little orange strip you wind through your shoelace that has a self-adhesive tab on it, or the bib itself has a little strip on the back that says “do not bend” for the timing chip. This bib was unique in that it had a big foam rectangle on the back that almost looked like a picture frame. This was supposed to be our timing chip. It was very thick and awkward, so I wasn’t sure how I was going to put it onto my fuel belt the next morning.

As I moved into the store through the line, I heard others commenting on the oddity of the timing chip as well so I didn’t feel like I was the only one. The nice thing about running the full was that I was able to bypass the majority of the line and go to the last table for the full-marathon shirts. It made me feel kind of special and ‘elite’ if only for that one brief moment! I was quickly handed my shirt and my little blue bag and made a beeline for the expo outside. I was so excited to see what was in store I just shoved my shirt into the bag without really even looking at it. I was able to see it was red (my least favorite color-I can’t help it. I think red is an angry color) as I shoved it in the bag; but I didn’t pay attention to the details.

I wandered around the expo for a bit looking at all the cool running swag. I saw some really nice charms I wanted to get for myself but then I heard Meredith’s voice whispering in my subconscious, “I’m not buying anything with a 26.2 on it, until I actually finish. I don’t want to jinx myself”. Darn her! I decided I had better wait until the next day at the finish line. Most of the vendors said they’d be there the next day. I did see a pink Nike “Phoenix Marathon” shirt I really wanted; but the girl at that booth was more interested in eating Teddy Graham’s apparently and was ignoring me and about two other people. I don’t know what the fascination was, but she was discussing them in detail with another woman. Oh well! I guess they lost my sale plus the other two people who walked away with me!

I looked at my phone and saw it was time to head out for dinner already (I had stayed at school longer than I planned trying to make sure I had everything ready for a sub Monday just in case). We had decided on Olive Garden because it was the most ‘user friendly’ restaurant we could all agree on. Meredith’s post-race fuel of choice is sushi (gag), and even though they had ‘normal’ non-sushi food at her restaurant I was afraid to try something new the night before. I’m generally a steak and potato girl before a race, but no one wanted that so we compromised with the old runner’s stand-by of pasta.

Meredith and company had finished with their spring training game, so they had headed to Olive Garden to get a table. It was Friday, so we knew there’d be a wait. For those of you who aren’t aware, Arizona is a hotspot for “winter visitors” or snowbirds as we call them. They come from all the really cold states for the winter because our winters are generally pretty mild (not really this year-but normally they are). Olive Garden is located smack dab in the middle of several retirement “resorts”. Generally the restaurants in this area are packed because of this phenomenon; but the ‘birds’ generally eat dinner anytime between 4-5:30ish so anytime after that isn’t too bad. It was going on 6:00 so we didn’t have too long of a wait by the time I got there.

Yes, I randomly take pictures of my food. This is what we all ended up ordering. Even Dave, who wasn’t running but wanted to show his support in food solidarity. It was really good angel hair pasta with marinara and chicken. I can’t remember what it was called but it was on their “lighter” menu. One of Meredith’s Ragnar friends has run several marathons and was giving us advice like “avoid anything with the word’s creamy, spicy, oily, or with the word sausage”. With my stomach issues I was trying to play it safe so I followed the group and just ordered what they were all having. I even managed to choke down water with lemon for my beverage of choice (boring!). About halfway through the meal I started feeling a little off so I ended up pushing the food around my plate more than eating it. I think I killed about half of that portion which wasn’t too bad. I attributed it to nerves and shrugged it off.

Soon it was time to go home and get my gear ready for the morning and get showered and prepped! I still had no idea what I was going to wear. I started stressing about getting enough sleep, but I had made sure I got plenty of sleep the night before (I think I went to bed around 7ish), in hopes of off-setting the lack of sleep from nerves.

I got home and started laying everything out I’d need for the morning. I also took everything out of my blue bag from the expo and got a look at my shirt for the first time. Although I generally deny liking the color red in any way, shape, or form, I was a little in love with this shirt! This was the nicest race shirt I had ever seen!

This is the back (with my bib on it for the picture’s sake). It’s a Nike shirt with their really nice moisture wicking material. I love the way it feels on! My favorite part is the front:

Although I generally prefer a v-neck this one is low enough to where it doesn’t bother me. It has the embroidered Nike Swoosh on it which is nice and the Phoenix Marathon logo. The shirts were differentiated for the full, the half, and the 10k which was awesome. I love sporting that 26.2 on the front! This is my new favorite shirt!

After I got done playing with all the swag in my blue bag (mostly just coupons or advertisements-but there was a pair of really cool black arm sleeves with the Phoenix Marathon logo on them), I tried to decide what to wear. I knew it was supposed to be somewhere around 70 by the time we finished, so I knew while we were running it would be pretty warm (especially since my body heat goes up like 20 degrees when I run).

I’m in this whole feeling bad about my body phase again (I’m trying really really hard to get out of it) so I was stressing about what exactly to wear. I didn’t want to wear shorts because I was afraid of chub rub from my thighs and I didn’t want to wear my capris. There was a horrible picture I saw from the week before when I ran the Lost Dutchman half. I’m wearing the capris but the bottom half of my body looks GINORMOUS and out-of-proportion, which is odd because when I ran PF Changs two weeks prior to that I’m wearing capris and I look normal. My body couldn’t have changed that much in two weeks!

Everyone keeps telling me it’s just the camera and that I don’t really look like that, but I’ve been feeling that my body has morphed into an odd shape from all the running I’ve been doing. I know I am for sure bottom heavy now with all the crazy muscles I’ve got going on in my legs. I don’t know how to explain it exactly…I just didn’t feel like myself and it’s just…weird (for lack of a better way to explain it). Regardless I opted for the capris as I didn’t want to worry about shorts and chafing. I had tried on a Brooks running skirt at Dick’s Sporting Goods a few days before and I loved it, but was afraid to run in something I had never ran in before.

As a concession to the heat factor I opted for a tank top versus a t-shirt to help keep me cool since I would be wearing longer pants. I laid out the rest of my gear: sunglasses, fuel belt, iPod, socks, headband, HRM, inhaler etc. I even had a separate SPI belt that I had chapstick, bandaides, Immodium, Pepto tablets, ibuprofen, and Excedrin Migraine in (just in case).  I pulled my Garmin off of the charger and it beeped at me telling me low battery. I seriously almost freaked out! It had been on the charger for a few days, but must have come loose from the connections and didn’t charge at all. I quickly put it back on the charger in hopes it would have enough of a charge to work the next morning.

I checked and double checked everything, and then checked again. I was so nervous I would forget something. I took my shower, said goodnight to the family and they surprised me with this:

Another unexpected show of support! Once again I had tears in my eyes! I headed off to bed with a warm heart and excitement for the next morning! We were planning on leaving Meredith’s house at 4:30 as the last shuttle to the start was supposed to leave at 5:15. That meant I would be getting up at 3am.

As I tried to calm myself down and go to sleep I remember envisioning how the next morning would go. I was thinking about all the support from people cheering from the sideline’s we’d have, and I was re-checking my gear in my head and I actually managed to fall asleep!

Once I get writing, things just come pouring out. I didn’t intend on the “night before” segment to end up being so long, so changed the name to “Part 1” and will be writing a separate post on the marathon itself. I’m getting all excited all over again to share it with you! Now I get to live it all over again with a much clearer head and not so much of a fatigue factor…

See you on the flip-side!

High-Fiving Lady Liberty

I’m running a marathon in 4 days! I’M STARTING TO FREAK OUT A LITTLE. Okay now that is out of the way…Yes, It’s been far too long since I’ve updated everyone on my marathon training progress…I checked out for a little while. Those of you who know me, know that when I am stressed, upset, or am trying to suss things out; I tend to become quiet and thoughtful and apparently that trait extends to my writing as well. I’m going to have to be diligent at posting a little every night until I can get caught up in my whirlwind of the last few weeks…

I was reading back on my last post. The one with the disastrous run. I was in bad shape then. Mentally that is. Physically too. That doubt is a bitch. She’ll whisper and dig deep and hold on with all her might. I’ve been really trying hard not to listen to her. I know she’s still sitting on my shoulder trying to put negative ideas into my head, and once in a while one slips through; but I really am trying hard to find a big enough fly-swatter to squash her for good.

Enough about doubt! My longest training run was just three short weeks ago. We were scheduled for 20 miles. If that number sounds daunting…that’s because it is! I woke up at the crack of dark and headed over to Meredith’s house. We weren’t sure how long it would take us. The weird weather continued it’s ADHD pattern and decided it would keep us nice and cold that morning. Dressing in layers was the order of the day!

We did about 8 miles around the same old route we’ve been running in Meredith’s neighborhood. I’ve become old hat at that route now it seems. We were going to continue on our merry way down a main street and then down  a canal path that would ensure we’d have a good path to follow for about 4 and a half miles and back. I was surprised at the pace we’d been running in Meredith’s neighborhood. It wasn’t too shabby for my pace of late. I knew we’d be going down the canal with no restroom in sight and my stomach was starting to let me know something was up, so I used the facilities at Meredith’s house before we headed off.

She was running a little ahead of me which is fine, and this time we had not only Elaine accompanying us on her bike, but our friend Rob as well! Double treat! We all headed off down the main road and hopped onto the first leg of the canal. It was so confusing to me. I need to strap a GPS to my chest permanently. My sense of direction is not good at all. I could get lost in a grocery store I swear. The way the canal was crisscrossing over streets we had already ran past was so confusing to me.

By the time we got to the first major street we’d have to cross (the canal went south through a bunch of main roads), my tummy was definitely doing some grumbling. I told Elaine I was going to need to stop somewhere. I told her I was feeling good (other than my stomach) and wanted to keep going, but I wasn’t going to make it if I didn’t stop. I had her ride her bike ahead and let Meredith know I had to stop for a minute.

The venue I chose was Starbucks. I knew they had a restroom, and when I saw it pop up over the horizon I was so grateful! I felt really bad going in there just to use the restroom! (Later that day I went through the drive-through just to make up for it). I felt a little better after my pit stop (without going into too much detail, as I’m sure you’d like to avoid hearing about all that), so I continued on the canal path.

About a mile in, my stomach started up again. I don’t know what was going on, but I was not  happy. I had eaten at Pei Wei the night before which I never usually have any issues with. I did have the Spicy Korean (my favorite!) which was probably not the best choice the night before a 20 miler. I had also been trying those Cliff Shot Blocks. I’m trying to find something that I can use since GU makes me…well…Gu makes me poo (hahaha). I was wracking my brain to figure out what was going on with my stomach. I was fine for the first 8 miles until I felt that slight cramping that prompted me to go at Meredith’s.

(Yes I do realize my quick “I’m still alive and kicking” post is now running a little long…but it was an eventful day!)

To try to make a long story short (whenever I hear someone say that I think of the characters in the movie CLUE yelling, “Too Late!!”) Rob and Elaine were alternating between me and Meredith on their bikes. They were for sure getting their mileage in that day! I had switched to run/walking because every once in a while during the running part, my stomach would let me know it was still not happy and I’d have to walk.

I used to never be comfortable at all about talking about bodily functions. It’s always been kind of forbidden or taboo. Once you’re a runner, all that is thrown out the window. Every person I know who runs, has had issues at one time or another and we all share in those issues. It’s kind of like discussing toenails falling off or chafing in uncomfortable places. We’ve all been there and done that…it’s a common part of a runner’s life.

I finally reached the turn around point. Meredith wasn’t as far ahead of me as I’d assumed she would be. I didn’t catch her on her way back until I was about a quarter of a mile to my turn around point. She looked like she was running a pretty strong and steady pace. I was jealous, I’m not going to lie. I’m still kicking my own ass for taking so much time off from running. (Yea, good idea Jamie…let’s take six months off and then jump into training for a MARATHON.)

On the way back Elaine was with Mer and I was with Rob. I felt bad (story of my life) because I had to keep walking and I felt so slow! I kept telling Rob he didn’t have to stay with me. He kept saying, “I know, if I didn’t want to stay with you I wouldn’t”. I finally let up and just kept on. With each step I took my stomach was sending danger signals. I had almost finished all my water at that point as I had the worst cotton mouth. Rob disappeared over the horizon and I started contemplating scaling walls into people’s backyards to knock on their door and ask to use the bathroom. Elaine came over the horizon about two miles and half a dozen imagined senarios later. She said I didn’t look so good. This prompted the swapping of many poop stories. It was actually kind of entertaining and reassuring all at the same time. I told her if I didn’t get to a restroom soon I was pretty sure I was not going to make it.

She told me just to go on the side of the canal where the dirt dropped off into a little ditch area.She would spot for me to make sure no one was coming.  I totally would have done it too, if there had not been the obvious lack of toilet paper.I couldn’t handle that.  She told me it was only about a mile and a half back to that Starbucks I had already visited. At that point I was full-on walking. There was no way I was going to be able to run and clench at the same time. We continued on with me speed-walking and Elaine encouraging me not to crap my pants (even though apparently I would have joined a very exclusive club had that occurred).

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. Elaine shoved her bike at me and told me to ride like the wind. I didn’t want to just leave the bike outside Starbucks because I was afraid it would walk away, but she told me it would be fine. We were still about 3/4 of a mile out. I finally hopped on and took off as the alternative to not borrowing Elaine’s bike was out of the question. I realized then as I tried to pedal how much taller Elaine is than me. I literally could not sit on the seat and pedal. Even using my tiptoes was not an option. I had to pedal like a little kid, standing up.

It was quite the sight! Me on a too-tall bike with a water belt strapped to my waist, my braid flying out behind me with a panicked look in my eyes, manically trying to navigate the canal toward Starbucks. If only someone had been there with a video camera…

I got to Starbucks, leaned Elaine’s bike against the building, threw my belt on one of the outside tables, threw off the neon yellow gloves I was still wearing and dashed inside. Let’s just say I made it just in the nick of time and leave it at that. When I finally came out, Elaine had already made it and had sent Meredith a text to say we had to stop.

We hopped back on our route and headed off to finish the last 2 miles back to Meredith’s house. By this time I was dehydrated, my head was pounding, my stomach was still grumbling and I was very uncomfortable. I did try to make a valiant effort to run again, but it just wasn’t happening. I told Elaine I had to walk, so she got off her bike and joined me. I felt bad that she did that, but at the same time I was secretly glad. I kind of felt like passing out. I felt like I was drunk which was really weird. I haven’t had any alchohol since I started training in October.  It was hard to form a coherent thought and my body felt rubbery. We were about 3/4 of a mile from Meredith’s house when she said she was walking back to meet us. She had gotten home, grabbed a bottle of water and rushed back out. She was walking at that point as well, but she had just ran 20 miles so she was allowed. Rob passed us in his truck on the way back to his house, and he honked and waved.

Thats when finally, I started to let that damn doubt creep in. Even after everything I had just been through and the way I was feeling,  I was ashamed I was walking. Then I started to think about the fact that I just ran the majority of a 20 mile training run, I didn’t give up, and I was going to finish.  I may be walking, but I was going to finish. It took me about 4 hours and 25 minutes but I forgot to stop my watch during at one of the bathroom breaks so I’m not for sure what my “unofficial, official” time was.

So that’s the story of my longest training run. It wasn’t pretty but I got through it. I was hurting by the time I finished though. I don’t know if I could’ve done 6 more miles in the condition I was in. I won’t sugar-coat it, I felt horrid. Every part of me ached and I was miserable.

Later on that week though I did a 5 mile training run that went much smoother. It almost rejuvinated me. As I was nearing the end of that run, I got to the corner of a major intersection. I needed to cross to get to my Weight Watchers meeting but realized I needed a little over a quarter-mile to get to the 5 mile mark. There is a tax preparation place in that little strip mall there, and they’ve had people standing out on the corner with signs, dressed like Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty.

The GUY that was dressed as Lady Liberty had headphones on and I was watching him as I ran toward the corner. He was in his own little world, just dancing away. I admired his free spirit. He made me smile! He caught my eye, did a crazy little hip roll thing (not sure what that was, but I’m going with: it matched the beat of the song he was listening to), then he leaned over to press the walk button for me to get the light to change. I needed to run that extra quarter of a mile so I had decided rather than crossing I was going to turn the corner and run to the next light there and then double back. As I nodded thanks and smiled at him he held up his hand. Without thinking about it, I gave him a very enthusiastic high-five and kept going. I’m not sure if he meant for me to high-five him, but I did it anyway and I’ve got to say it kind of made that run a little more fun. I get to say I high-fived Lady Liberty, I don’t think many people can say that!

I’ve decided that in my Jamie running world,  in addition to people just randomly handing me cups of water on my runs, people should also be holding up silly encouraging signs and giving me high-fives. It would make the time go by faster and give me something to look forward to. Oh and I’d be able to eat chocolate at the end of every run and not gain weight.

Coming soon…The Lost Dutchman Half-Marathon…My final Short Run…and Panic Mode

4 MORE DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And just because I like to post pictures…

 

Running With Doubt

It’s been an emotional day for me already and it’s only 6am.I spent about 15 minutes crying like a baby in my car in front of Meredith’s house this morning. I don’t like to cry, it doesn’t happen often, but when I do, it’s like a tidal wave. It’s not pretty. Blotchiness, snot, and heaving breaths occur. I am not an attractive crier.

Exactly one month from today I will be running my first marathon! That is crazy. I didn’t think this day would ever get here, and now that it is I kind of wish I had more time. Between injuries and illnesses I feel like I didn’t get to train very well, and would like to have more time. I guess I will just have to use this marathon as “the time to beat” and train for my next one a little smarter!

I’ve been having some stomach issues for the last few days. There appears to be something going around school. It’s crazy. I didn’t miss any school last year at all due to illness. As far as my bronchitis issues were concerned, last year was very mild. This year it seems as though I’ve been hit with every bug going around, and hit full force! You would think with my training and all the vitamins I take and my (mostly) healthy eating, I’d be in tip-top shape!  Anyway I was kind of iffy about our training run this morning as last night I was in some serious pain from my stomach. You know when I have no desire to eat anything, there is something wrong. I’m always in the mood for food.

My alarm went off at 3:45am this morning and I could tell my stomach still had that ‘full’ feeling. It’s uncomfortable and I knew that after 7 miles there would be no bathroom around should the need arise. I sent a text to Meredith saying I wasn’t coming. I didn’t want to take a chance. I dozed off for a few minutes and somehow managed to have a dream that I was frustrated about my training (gee where did that come from?). I woke up really pissed, and sent Mer a text back saying: “Nevermind. I’m really pissed. I’m getting ready”. It was only about 4 am at this point so I knew I had time. She wanted to get out the door before 5.

I quickly got ready and headed over. She only lives about 10 minutes from me, but by the time I got there my stomach was starting to make noise. We got ready, Elaine got on her bike and we took off. Apparently Meredith had her Wheaties this morning because she took off like her pants were on fire. She was running a really fast pace. Faster than normal. I was struggling to keep up, and with not feeling well on top of that, it was very frustrating. I looked at my Garmin and my pace was significantly faster than the norm, so I didn’t even want to imagine what she was running.

I was lagging behind for most of the run. There was one point where either she slowed way down, or I caught up because I was right behind her, but then she took off on me again. The farther I ran, the more my stomach hurt. It felt like it was swelling up like a balloon. It was very uncomfortable to run and was messing with my normal cadence. After last weeks euphoric run, this was a complete 360 and contributed to my frustration.

We neared Meredith’s house, which is usually the 3.5 mile marker to end our loop. Usually we end up stopping for a few minutes to get water, use the restroom, whatever. Meredith just blew right past the house and kept going. I myself was in need of water so I stopped. By the time I looked up she was gone. I decided to call it a day then. I have no idea where she was running to, as the route varies from week to week, I felt like crap, I was starting a serious pity party. It just wasn’t happening this morning. Elaine came out of the house (she had stopped to grab Meredith’s sunglasses) and I told her I lost her and I was going to call it a day. She even remarked how fast Meredith was running today and said she would find her and tell her I was going. She took off, I grabbed my bag out of Meredith’s truck and proceeded to have a 15 minute meltdown in my car.

I think it all just hit me. In 30 days I will be running a marathon. The last six months of my life have revolved around this day. My training hasn’t exactly been going according to plan. With every set-back I felt more frustration. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had days where I just know that I can do this. Last week I was primed and ready to run the 18 miles, but Mother Nature had other plans apparently. Today is just one of those days where I feel like a big fat loser. I don’t feel well, my body is fighting me every step of the way,  and I’m a little over-whelmed. Pity part, table for one? Today pushed me over the very delicate edge I’ve been balancing.

I’ve been going on and on about this marathon and have been making such a big deal out of it to my friends and family. I’ve been afraid no one will come cheer me on, now I’m afraid they will. What if they see that I’m just an average person?  That I’m not a ‘real’ runner, that I don’t have a runners body, I certainly don’t have a “runners pace”. It’s going to take me longer than the majority of the participants to even finish. What if I can’t finish? What if all my hard work is for naught? My literal blood, sweat, and now my tears?

Am I starting to freak out a little? You bet your ass I am. I am running with doubt right now. She is whispering all these things in my ear that I’ve been trying really hard to ignore, but have been getting louder and louder. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever tried to accomplish.

I’m petrified and doubting myself.

I know I need to find a way to snap out of this. I’ve managed to continue on with my training even with my multiple set-backs. I’ve always known I’m not going to be the fastest one out there. My goal is to finish. Okay I have two goals. I want to finish and not be the one the sweeper van is following. I don’t think I could handle the macabre image of a van looming behind me, waiting for me to fall so they can swoop me up and drop me off at the finish in a haze of failure.

I have come a long way in the last two years and I feel like this is the culmination of all my hard work and effort. I am probably putting too much pressure on myself, but that’s how I’m wired. I think I came out of the womb with a plan book and high expectations of myself.

As my friend Debi told me when she talked me down this morning, “Tomorrow is a new day. You did what you could today. You are strong, you are trained. You are determined. The marathon isn’t today. A mile is a mile, no matter how slow”. Debi can be very wise and supportive. It’s good to have people like that in your lives. Those are the people who can talk louder than doubt whispers.

Tomorrow is another day. I’m going to make it count.