Yowza and owee! Yesterday my tattoo artist, George, gave me this custom designed Pacific Northwest tribal snake down the outside of my left thigh. I've had an idea to get a snake for years, but no pressing inspiration to make it happen. It was at the Race Into the New Year last December 31st, a misty unprecedented 50°+ day, that I found my inspiration. An elite runner wearing shorts had his entire upper legs encased in colorful, tasteful tattoos. Something about it made me decide it was time for my thigh to have some color too, and the snake was born. I spent months searching for snake designs, came up with 2 that I liked, and consulted with George to have a mixture of the two formed into my own special design. I like snakes, and I like what they represent - TRANSFORMATION. Many cultures feel the snake represents transformation and/or transmutation. I am all about the idea of re-invention, constantly changing who you are, transforming yourself, transcending thoughts, ideas and circumstances, always coming out fresh and new. I purposely planned the timing of this 9th tattoo (not liking odd numbers, this means I'll have to get a 10th tattoo at some point in time!) for July, knowing all my race training would be completed for a couple months (because running hard or in the sun with a fresh tattoo is not a good idea), that I'd have enough time to heal before our September backpacking trip and that it would be warm enough for me to wear skirts, as pants aren't recommended since they can rub scabs off the tattoo, possibly pulling the color out. The head of this snake rests on the head of my quadricep, which must be one of the most painful places to have a needle slice through. For 90 minutes I focused on my yoga breath to bear the pain - pain that hinted at nausea, pain that made my bladder want to empty, pain that took my breath away. After a while the body is in such a heightened place of sensitivity that even a faint breeze over my leg hurt. I tried talking with Joe, reading Runner's World and closing my eyes to visualize calming waves on a beach, all the while monitoring George's progress. He began outlining the snake,which hurt the most because a smaller needle is used for thin lines. I knew he would color the snake first with black, then turquoise and lastly red, so when he finally turned to his vial of red ink, I had hope for relief.I still have hope for relief 15 hours later, for my leg is throbbing and ouchy this morning. Sitting down hurts as the muscle expands and flattens, which pulls on the skin. Walking smarts as the muscle moves up and down, pulling on the skin, and even standing or lying down does not negate a quiet pulsing to the leg. Sounds horrible, right? Yet, I would do it all again. Remember, the snake is about transformation, and pain can be transforming!
It was July 23rd, 2009, 7 months after my herniation and the neurosurgeon's advice to never run again, that I said, "to hell with that!", laced up my Asics and hit the treadmill. I was excited and anxious to run again. Excited with the idea that I could resume my identity as a runner, compete in races (this is what got me initially hooked on running), and achieve one goal after another (run farther, run faster, lower my heart rate, increase my lactate threshold, etc.). Anxious over fears of hurting my back. That first day I ran 1/4 mile on the treadmill at an 11:06 pace and my heart rate (HR) soared to 175 beats per minute. My nerve damaged left leg, lagged behind noticeably, and I couldn't wait for those 3 minutes of running to end - what was I thinking? I feared I'd remembered running in an overly romantic light, but I hadn't. My memory accurately recalled that the first few weeks of running suck - big time. In the beginning, to run 10 minutes is painful on the lungs and legs. The mind screams to stop. How bad do you want it? Is perseverance born out of motivation? stubbornness? necessity? belief? desire? fear? anger? pride? hope?...?I persisted, and eventually running did get easier. I started counting the milestones over the next few months, and reclaimed my life as a runner when I ran the Run Into The New Year 5k on 12/31/09. July 23rd, 2010, one year later, same date, I ran 3 miles outside, in hot & humid conditions, at a 10:22 pace with an average HR of 164. By this one year anniversary of running, I'd participated in 8 races, including 2 half marathons, and had logged nearly 1,000 miles - all done injury free. Fast forward to today, July 23rd, 2011 - 2 years out. In hot, humid and hilly conditions, I ran 6 miles at a 10:04 pace with an average HR of 164. I've run 17 races in 2 years, 4 of them half marathons, with another 3 events scheduled. Total 2 year mileage equals ~ 2,000 miles.My "easy" treadmill pace, which never translates to road running which is slower going, has gone from an 11:06 pace with heart rates in the 170's, to a 9:40 pace with heart rates in the 140's. Massive progress! Before the year is over, I intend to get my easy treadmill pace to 9:20 minute miles, and ideally (fingers and toes crossed) my sustained half marathon pace to 10:00 minute miles (I'll get to test this plan in October at the Haunted Hustle). I share my journey and all of these stats to demonstrate what your mind and body can achieve with your will. It's about setting small goals to keep your momentum moving forward towards your larger goals. It's about consistency and commitment, perseverance and resilience. You can do this too for any goal you have in mind - the motivation comes from choosing what is meaningful to you.
Folks, please forgive my bragging, bogarting ways... Here it goes: JOE & I KICKED ASS IN THAT DEADLY HOT RACE SUNDAY!!!! (especially Joe). Remember that Joe is in a flare with diminished energy, has spent less time training as his body needs rest, and still, under the worst of conditions, he placed within the top 7-17% of all finishers. Can you imagine how amazing he will be when he can run healthy with all the training time put in??? And for me, who has historically placed in the middle to the bottom third of races, stepped it up to be in the top 25-35% of finishers! Check these numbers out....JOE-Out of 117 males aged 40-44, Joe came in 13th.-Out of 794 males running the 10k, Joe placed 129th.-And most impressively, Out of 2352 10k finishers, Joe placed 169th. Quick math tells you that is the top 7%!!! Again, what kind of stats will he be posting when he is running at 100% of his strength and training?ME-Out of 183 women aged 40-44, I came in 49th.-Out of 1558 women running the 10k, I placed 402nd. -Out of 2352 10k finishers, I placed 836th, which translates into the top 35%. Progress!Not only did we perform way better than expected or than we realized in the moment, Joe also had his 1 second of fame. Click this link to see a new video about the race. http://www.fox6now.com/news/witi-20110710-summerfest-race,0,590939.story At minute 1:53 of the video, they are interviewing a woman, and behind her, you can see Joe's ponytail and watch him guzzle water as he waits for me to cross the finish line.
We survived the Inaugural Summerfest Rock-n-Sole 10k. I say survived because the heat and humidity, yes, as early as 8:00a.m., was DANGEROUS, and would eventually lead to the closure of the course. But really, we did more than survive. Amongst a sea of dehydrated, overheated, sun stroking racers, we were able to finish strong. Not only did we finish strong (not to be confused with PR'ing - something I don't think anyone could have done today), we crossed the finish line with respectable times that weren't too far off our norms. Joe finished in 51:00 (his PR is 47 minutes) and I closed with 1:03 (my PR is 1:01). How did we do it and what was the course like? Let me tell you. We fashioned a plan based on my heat exhaustion experience from last week's long run (last week I felt like crap, but now I'm grateful to have had a learning moment in advance of a race). The plan included hydrating well on Saturday, taking in extra salt with our food for water retention, having a decent night's sleep, staying in the shade pre-race (there is virtually no shade at the lakefront, but we got there extra early to avoid road closures, and snagged a spot under some dwarfish trees), and continuing to hydrate while waiting for the race to begin. Our plan dictated no expectations for PR'ing. The only goal was to finish without getting sick - even if this meant taking walk breaks. We ran separately, but our experiences were similar - taking a few 1-minute walk breaks when our heart rates climbed too high (170 bpm for me, 180 for Joe). I ended up walking a total of 3 minutes (once at the 3 mile mark, 4 mile mark and 5 mile mark), and would have PR'd on a cooler day with no breaks. But I'm not complaining. I'm relieved to have walked away from this race, rather than being driven to the ER, as many were. This race attracted over 7,000 runners from 46 different states and 12 different countries. The best part of the experience for me was having elite Kenyan runners (some famous ones too, like Bernard Langat) humble our little event. It was amazing seeing these diminutive runners doubling back on the course before we were hardly started. Top finishers in this event could win $1000-$2500, which is more than a year's salary in Kenya. Here's a link to the Journal Sentinel's article that tells more about it: http://www.jsonline.com/blogs/lifestyle/125221748.htmlThe race. Well, there will definitely be a learning curve for the race organizers. What they did well was to organize the race corral by pace, start on time, and mark the course well. What they did poorly, even reprehensibly given today's lethal conditions, was to underestimate the water needs on on the Hoan Bridge. The half marathon began at 8:00, followed by us 10k'ers at 8:30 a.m. By the time we were 1.5 miles in, there should have been Aid Station #1, but all of the water was gone. Gone. We had just run up the Hoan Bridge in blazing sun, people were parched, looking forward to their first swig of agua, and all that remained were empty cups tossed in the gutter. People were panicked. I was grateful to be self-contained with my Camelbak. I was doing alright. I didn't find the grade of the long uphill bridge to be challenging - did my hill work pay-off? Once we reached the top of the Hoan, we continued down, along the Lake Park Freeway to Russle St. for our turn-around. Shortly after the turn around, volunteers stood holding gallon jugs of water out in each hand (water they were given from water hoses in residential backyards that abutted the freeway), pouring the water into runner's hands or mouths like baby calves drinking from a bottle held overhead. It was pathetic. Many people began to walk. An ambulance sirened by. The radiant heat from the road was suffocating. Sweat had no colling benefit, and salt deposits stung the eyes, nose and lips. At mile 4.5 of 6.2, I swigged the last of my Camelbak's supply. Fortunately, I always back my hydration plan up with gum, so I chewed the hell out of my Extra Key Lime Pie, until the heat in my mouth (do you know your core body temperature when running on a day like this can quickly hit 104°?) caused the gum to chemically breakdown, such that it lost it's elasticity, turning to flimsy mush that had to be spit to the side as I clambered down the off ramp, headed for the finish line on the Summerfest grounds. Point two tenths of a mile later, I was grabbing Gatorade, my finishers' medal, salty treats and Joe.
I almost feel too superstitious to utter this aloud (writing a blog to all of you counts as saying something out loud), BUT this past week has offered me a bit of relief from the frenetic rat race that has become my life. A quiet week at work, with our department once again fully staffed, allowed me time to make my infinite TO DO list finite. An appointment-free week gave me more down time at home after work, and this being a taper week with reduced running and weight training, afforded me time to sleep in some mornings (4:30a.m. twice and 5:30a.m. today!). The slowed pace has been good for my mind, yielding a more peaceful state of being, and time to actually consider the calendar and what lies ahead in the near future. Here are some happenings to share with y'all:7/8/11: Right now, at this very moment, Joy is getting down with her bad self jamming to her latest CD's: The new Beastie Boys "Hot Sauce Recommitted Part Two", Eminem's new collaboration with Royce da 5'9 called Bad Meets Evil "Hell: The Sequel", and Eddie Vedder's "Ukulele Songs"7/10/11: This Sunday Joe and I will run in the Inaugural Summerfest 10k. I'm rather dreading the race with weather predictions calling for 90° and humid. There will be no "cooler by the lake", and after my heat exhaustion experience last week, I'm not keen on a repeat. To that end, Joe & I will spend Saturday hydrating ourselves and taking in extra sodium for water retention, which will work to our benefit. I am not looking to PR, just to finish without getting sick. I'm patting myself on the back for having the insight in January, when registering for this race, to not go for the half marathon option, knowing that it would be an awful run through suffocating summer air. This race also ends my training regimen of the past 7 months. I can take it easy with a chill 20 miles per week until vacation at the end of August. When we come back in September training will resume for an October half marathon. 7/25/11: Joe has his second maxed out Remicade Infusion.7/30/11: I will get my 9th tattoo - a Pacific Northwest styled snake creeping down my left thigh.8/8/11: Joe will have a sigmoidoscopy to peer at his innards for signs of improvement from the 2 months of Remicade and Azathioprine. 8/19/11: Joe will see Dr. Naik regarding the results of his amped up treatments. This will be a moment defining what comes next regarding a colectomy or continued treatment.8/20/11: Mom's 70th Birthday party at our house. Good weather has been ordered - hope it comes in time. 8/24/11: Thanks to our wonderful Governor (excuse me while I puke), I will begin receiving ~ $75 less per paycheck. 8/31/11: We get out of Dodge for our Sierra Nevada vacation. We're going no matter what!
SUMMER! Summer is heating up, and my body has no tolerance for it. Yesterday, a typical day of Wisconsin heat AND humidity, found me sitting in my mom's garden for an amazing summer lunch, in blazing sun, melting into a sweat cesspool. I wore a loose dress to combat the heat, but to no avail. I hate feeling hot, I hate sweating and I hate being next to other hot, sweaty people, so you can imagine how magnanimous I was being to stand for this picture! :)Another thing that's hot are my boys. Chaco & Denali remain sweet, quirky, giving, laugh inspiring fellas. And they're getting bigger still ... Chaco now weighs in at 12.23 pounds, and Denali at 10.25. Chaco loves to rub his face against our faces, which has become a ritual at various times and places throughout the day. For example, when I come home from work, and go to the bedroom to change cloths, Chaco races ahead to jump on the bed, while Denali heads under the bed. Chaco plops onto the bed and waits for me to bow my head towards him so he can affectionately rub it. Meanwhile, Denali is ready to play Wack-A-Mole with my feet, which have to come close to the bed to meet Chaco's head. If I walk around the bed, a tiger stripped paw will lightly tap my foot as I go. 
RUNNING! Running is becoming a hot endeavor. When you run, your body temperature rises, giving you a perceived extra 20° climb in air temperature. When you start a run on an 80° day, such as this morning, within 10 minutes, your body interprets it to be 100°. I guess I didn't hydrate well enough yesterday when sweating in mom's backyard, or today before my 8-miler, because I experienced a whiff of heat exhaustion. I always run with a Camelbak, but if you're not hydrated enough before you begin exercise, you can't play catch up with the fluid you use during exercise. By mile 2, I found my heart rate to be about 10 beats higher than usual, which is common in the heat, so I started taking 20 second breaks at each mile point to let my HR come down. By mile 4.5, despite the heat, I began to feel chilled - goosebumps covering my body. My stomach felt a bit churny, and at times I felt a bit nauseated. By mile 6, I decided it would be prudent to run/walk the last 2 miles home, taking time to lower my HR in shady spots. I made it home, clocking a decent 10:22 pace in spite of my setbacks, and looked my symptoms up on line. Seems I was definitely experiencing the stress of heat on the body with a touch of heat exhaustion, and that I was wise to listen to my body, and not keep pushing, as I may have entered the heat stroke danger zone. Scary business. The rest of the day I've felt tired and less mentally alert. I'm trying to hydrate mega well, so I can crank out 3 miles tomorrow without incident. And by the way,Joe, that guy who takes a lickin' and keeps in tickin', ran 5 miles through the heat and his accumulated fatigue - a major feat, and one achieved without heat exhaustion!
Yowza and owee! Yesterday my tattoo artist, George, gave me this custom designed Pacific Northwest tribal snake down the outside of my left thigh. I've had an idea to get a snake for years, but no pressing inspiration to make it happen. It was at the Race Into the New Year last December 31st, a misty unprecedented 50°+ day, that I found my inspiration. An elite runner wearing shorts had his entire upper legs encased in colorful, tasteful tattoos. Something about it made me decide it was time for my thigh to have some color too, and the snake was born. 
