I'll take a knee (please)

At some point, we have to admit our humanity.

Since losing weight, I've done a lot of things I never thought I could. One that I enjoy most is participating in running/walking events. From my first 5K to the half marathon I completed last year, they are all exciting milestones in my mind. As a heavy child/teenager, I never participated in sports, so this whole thing of pushing my body towards a tangible finish line is new to me. People cheering for me, receiving a medal or ribbon at the end, the feeling of accomplishment - just the act of crossing a finish line - is a sort of addiction to me. I love it so much! And besides, the necessary training for these events keeps me in the gym and focused (most of the time!) on healthy habits.

I signed up for the half marathon right after I finished it last year, at a highly discounted price. Great! Of course I'll do it again! Then just a few weeks later I got the call to have my tummy tuck done. The recovery from the tummy tuck is looooonnnnggg. At least, mine has been. I haven't had any complications, but my whole torso is still...fragile. I'm now 8 months post-op and still have to be careful about how much I lift and exert myself. Honestly, I didn't do much at ALL for a few months. I started getting back into short walks in October, still wearing my abdominal binder. I even signed up for and completed a couple of events in the late fall, trying to get my mojo back. One 2.5K and one 5K. I wore TWO binders for both events and all went well. The knees were holding up, too.

By the time the Santa Shuffle 5K rolled around in early December, I had been pretty sick with what I thought was a cold for about a week. Just a day beforehand, I had a fever. But on race day, I was feeling a little better so decided to go. It was freezing and snowing out, and my nose was running like Niagara Falls (LOL) but I did well. My first trip to the doctor came a few days later. Sinus infection. First round of antibiotics, three-week supply. By Christmas, I was doing better (meaning no fever) and even though I was completely exhausted, I trudged through shopping, wrapping, dinner, etc. I had a few days of normalcy in early January, then got "sick" again. Waited about a week or so, went back to the doctor...sinus infection. More antibiotics. Didn't seem to help much, but I put off going back to the doctor. We're into February at this point. I had now been ill since November, pretty much all the time. No gym, no NOTHING. I was sitting on my ass folks, clutching a box of tissues and using a sinus rinse (which did NOTHING for me). We used so many tissues, Erich said we should buy stock in Puffs. I'd have a day where I would start to feel better and I'd think "Ok, I'll go to the gym tomorrow." Then I'd wake up feeling like a Mack truck ran over me in my sleep. OR...we'd get 12 inches of snow. This was shaping up to be one of the worst winters I'd ever had, both weather-wise and health-wise.

So I went back to the doctor in early February because I didn't want to be sick as a dog on my birthday on the 7th and we had a trip planned to Ohio on the 15th, for a week's stay with my parents. For the second year in a row, I did not make it home for Christmas. New job, and apparently people have to die before I get my turn in line to have Christmas off. So yeah. Doctor. Sinus infection again. Really?? More antibiotics. I took them for almost a week then came home from work one night and noticed I was getting what looked to be a rash on my neck. Hm. I showed it to Erich and had him take a photo of it. Having already planned to return to the doctor yet again the next morning since the antibiotics weren't working, I wanted to show this "rash" to him in case it cleared up while I slept. I took some Benadryl (couldn't hurt, right?) and went to bed.

Well. I woke up covered head to toe in little red dots.

When I got to the doctor's office, he looked at me and started muttering, "Oh no. Hm. Wow. Ok." He said I was having a reaction to the antibiotic and needed to go to the emergency room right away. I had a high fever, but wasn't having trouble breathing or anything. I went home, got Erich, called in sick to work and went to the ER. Long story short...I wasn't responding to the treatment they were giving me, so they decided to keep me overnight for observation. I started to improve overnight and by morning, the rash was almost totally gone. The doctor on staff brought an intern to see me and the strange-looking rash because he'd never seen anything like it before. Of course! Leave it to me to be weird! LOL!

In the end, I stopped taking EVERYTHING to get a handle on this rash. I had been taking over-the-counter meds, too, and of course my vitamins and supplements I always take. I stopped it all, including the new round of antibiotics the hospital physician prescribed to me. We went ahead with our trip to Ohio and eventually, I got better. Fingers crossed, I've been ok ever since. But then my problems started with my knees.

I have wanted to move out of our apartment for years now, ever since I lost weight especially. When we moved here, there were two units available - one on the main floor, one in the basement. You walk into the building and either go up a flight of stairs to the main floor, or down a flight to the basement. At well over 400 pounds, I remember thinking which option would be better for me if I was coming home with a load of groceries or just back from a hard day....I wanted to go DOWN, not up. So we took the basement apartment. Now, it's not as bad as you might think. The entire street-facing side of the apartment is nothing but big windows with lots of light coming through. It's not like I live in a hole in the ground! LOL! The main thing I want is outdoor living space. A balcony, a patio. Something.

We like the building, the neighborhood, our landlord, our super. We hate to move. There are three-bedroom units here, so we were considering moving to the third floor, where a unit might be opening up soon. So, when we returned from Ohio, I started climbing to the third floor a couple times a day, just to see how my knees would handle it. Well, guess what? They won't. I might have lost weight, but the damage has already been done. I started having debilitating knee pain for the first time in years. Like, really hurting. Barely able to walk around at work some nights. Yes, I'm a graphic designer but I do soooo much more than that. Some nights, I'm working in four different rooms at once, running around all over the place. There is no way I could've done this job pre-op; it's too physical. So this knee thing is a big issue.

But I iced it, wore my braces, etc. I had two 10Ks coming up, as well as the half marathon again in June. I was behind in my training schedule and starting to panic a little. So I went to the gym and likely overdid it. 8K on the treadmill. OMG....severe knee pain for a couple of days. I've gone back to my family doctor to begin a physiotherapy program.

I am doing better, but certainly not well enough to chance a half marathon. Not only because of my bum knees, but because I'm just not ready. I've spent too much time on my ass recovering from the tummy tuck, recurring sinus infections, etc. I just don't feel like it would be smart of me to say "I can do this!" and go out a kill myself in the process. I have nothing to prove to anyone and there's always next year. I will participate in the two events for which I had originally registered a 10K, I just switched them to 5K. That's more reasonable, I think, and very do-able. But the half marathon is out.

At first, I was really upset about all of this. It seemed like taking a step back. I suppose it is, but it's what's best for me now.

Erich and I are looking for a new place outside this building now - preferably either a main-level unit or someplace with an elevator because my knees can't do stairs (apparently). I'm continuing with my knee rehab and doing well, although the core exercises are waking up my midsection in a sometimes-unpleasant way! I'm in the gym twice a week doing light biking and walking. Sometimes it feels like I'll never be back to normal from the tummy tuck, but there are still no regrets. Life is an adventure and if the road turns and twists, well, that's what makes it interesting, right? Onward!

P.S. Sorry this is so long, and if you've read it all, thank you! It's good for me to get these things out. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read my ramblings.

Finish lines

So I did it - last month, I completed by first running 5K. Now, will I do it again? Probably not.

It was bitterly cold that day and since it was an inaugural race, pretty poorly organized. Some runners, myself included, got a little turned around on the badly marked course. I estimate that it affected my time by 2-3 minutes. Aggravating, to say the least.

The day before the event, I went to a runners' specialty store and bought some cold-weather clothing. Lemme tell you something...if you're not already fit, then I guess walking/running isn't for you because you won't be able to find clothing in these stores. They had nothing for women above a size large, and an x-large for men. Cindy needs a women's x-large (and because these items are so tight and my desperate need for a tummy tuck, I'd prefer a 2X). I was like "Are you kidding me?" Honest to god...way to make someone feel like a rhinoceros. Is my horn showing? But, I needed this stuff as the forecast was for wind chills below zero. Plus, I had a WagJag coupon to use so I decided to try on the men's XL, and it was suitable. Not only is the stuff size-stupid, but you should probably have a damn good job to be a serious runner/walker. I got a jacket off the clearance rack and a long-sleeved shirt. $75...and this was AFTER I used my $50 WagJag. Right. I looked pretty spiffy, though!



But they worked, because I wasn't really cold the next day. I lined up and took off, bringing up the rear immediately. No matter. I kept on. There were supposed to be walkers, but by god I never saw any until the end of the race, when some of them caught up with me. LOL! An older couple directed me back onto the course and I managed to finish ahead of them, as well as most (if not all) of the walkers. Dead last of the runners, though.

I have a tendency to run toward Erich at the finish line. If I see him, I go to him - not the finish line. I've done this several times now. Last June, at the Father's Day 5K in London, he had to tell me to go one more lap around the track. I saw him and thought I was done, I guess! And at the Minds in Motion 10K last fall, I almost went right past the guy handing out the medals at the finish line because I was focused on my husband. How weird is that? Well, I did it again this time. I had to swerve away from him to cross the finish line because I went right for him. Then the girl recording everyone's time on their bibs had to come and turn me around. LOL! My first words to Erich were "I beat the old people!" Then I was horrified that I screamed it, because I had loud music going in my ears. GAH.



According to their time, I finished in 46:18. A pitiful time but at least I finished. Oh, and they completely screwed up my name. Check it out...Uncle Albert?


I had my Couch-2-5K program running during the race and it clocked me at just over 40 minutes. I dunno. Again, whatever. I finished! Twice! Because on the Wednesday before the race, I ran a 5K on the treadmill at the gym, just to see if I could. Now, this was probably a mistake...which takes me back to my first paragraph and why I won't be running anymore. At least, I don't think so.

My left knee is a bitch. Both of them are shot, but the left one is worse. I wore braces on both knees all during training and on race day, but I was mainlining Tylenol Arthritis for a good 10 days afterwards. The pain was so chronic that I was thinking for a while I might need to go see my doctor about it, worrying that it wasn't getting much better. But eventually it did subside and seems to be ok now. However, I did do the damn 5K twice in four days. Probably not very smart.

Every time I achieve something new, I want to go farther. It's like I need to keep proving to myself that this is really me, I can really do these things; the weight is gone. I don't know if I'll get over that. Also, when I know I have a race coming up, I train - a.k.a., move my ass. If there's no event coming up then I'm likely to stay on the sofa watching Dr. Phil. "So how's that workin' for ya?" Yeah, not too great. I still would like to lose another 15 pounds or so. That's my sweet spot and a weight I can maintain if I'm smart about it and not go off the rails like I did last year. I'm on it. It'll come off.

Last Monday, the Boston Marathon Bombings affected people around the world, of course, but I think especially those of us who regularly compete in races. I'm doing a (walking) half marathon in Niagara Falls in June, and one of the girls posted in our group, wondering aloud if anyone was bothered by the fact that we'll be in a similar situation very soon...lining up, ready to do something we've always wanted to do...to prove we CAN do it...and working to cross that finish line and greet our loved ones. My local running club sent out invites to "Run for Boston" at a special event last Wednesday evening.

I'll tell you this: Erich has waited for me at every finish line, at every event I've ever participated in. To think that people like him...who just wanted to see their loved ones achieve a lofty goal, cheering them on with love and support, waiting to snap that victory picture...were targeted with such hate is very difficult. For me, I wait to see my husband's smiling face behind a camera lens at the finish line. It's part of what I train for, to see the look of pride in his eyes and the "Good job, baby," in my ear when I'm done. And of course, when you are in a race, the last thing you are thinking about is death and chaos waiting for you at the finish line. You're thinking about achievement, support and love. It's a scary thing and will probably change how people think at these events for a long time to come, if not forever.

But we'll still run or walk...crawl if we have to. For Boston, for us, for freedoms that no coward with a pressure-cooker bomb can take away. Screw 'em. Let's go!