Miss me....??

A most ridiculous thing happened today: my shorts nearly slid off in the supermarket.  It sounds absurd, I know, but as I was walking out with my shopping bags and orange juice, these size-2 Gap shorts kept inching their way down my bum, and any amount of wiggling I tried could not halt their descent.  I stopped and tucked my sweater into my shorts (oh, Colorado weather...) and was good to go for the 6-block walk home.

I share this anecdote not to highlight the reality that I need either new shorts or a new belt or both, nor am I trying to illustrate how I don't have much padding around my hips/butt.  No, I'm sharing this because my new reality is that I don't weigh much, and it is actually quite frustrating.  My weight has become a very visible representation of a larger, darker issue: I am not gaining weight, and I am not absorbing nutrients properly.  The adventures of a newly-diagnosed Celiac athlete!  Trying to eat healthily but also adequately fuel my body.  It's harder than it looks, folks.

It is now nearly three weeks since I ran and Finished (!) the Boston Marathon.  The race was beyond incredible.  So many thousands of runners, all of whom had worked so hard to get to Hopkinton.  Standing around in the athlete's village prior to the start of the race, sipping Gatorade and coffee and water, I could not believe I was there.  With everything that happened these past few months and years, I never imagined I would be wearing a bib number for the Boston Marathon.  Five years after I was sitting in a hospital bed in Chicago wishing I was in Boston drinking with my college friends, I was about to take off running in the race as an official entrant.  I wrote a little bit about this on here, but I had not properly trained for this marathon.  Between being sick and dealing with my GI issues and then having to overhaul my entire diet and way of thinking about food, I just had not put in the miles necessary.  The longest long run I did was about 10 miles, and that was in February.  Which isn't to say I wasn't fit: I bike every day; I still do live at altitude; I was running a little bit.  I had also spent the month before the marathon focusing on nutrition and putting on weight so that no matter what, at least I'd have a little bit of fat or Something to give me energy over the course of the race.

My attitude was basically, "Hell, I have an entry to this crazy marathon.  This may never happen again.  No, I haven't trained well; no, I have no idea what is going to happen; yes, there is a good possibility I won't be able to finish for whatever reason.  So what.  I'm going.  I'm starting.  I will enjoy the experience, whatever that means."  And so I did

A few weeks earlier, I had seen Scott Jurek speak at the REI here in Denver.  He was really interesting, and I wish I could have picked his brain more, but one part of his presentation stuck with me.  He talked about how he managed to win the Western States 100, 7 years in a row, and how such a thing is even possible.  Essentially, his takeaway point was 1: you have to want it, and 2: you have to Really want it.  I wanted this race.  I wanted to be there, and I wanted like crazy to finish.  I hadn't beaten cancer and the face tumor and no B-cells and the face tumor redux and celiac disease only to drop out halfway.  So I took off running when it was finally my turn to cross the start line, and I kept that sentiment with me the entire time.  And even though I ran/walked the thing after about 10 miles in, never once did it occur to me to stop.  Notably, never once did my GI give me any trouble, either.  I crossed the finish line in Copley Square and promptly started sobbing because of every single thing I had overcome to get there.  Because I had just finished the Boston Marathon; because I had once again proven to myself that I am stronger than I give myself credit for.

We all are stronger than we allow.  Our bodies are incredible, and I know so many people who just laugh when the odds keep stacking against them.  Really, if I can run a marathon without adequate training and actually Beat the time of my first marathon (that I did train for...), if I can feel completely back to normal two days after the race, biking to work and getting on with life, if I can get through every single day with a lowered immune system and an allergy to gluten, what can't I do?

Sometimes I don't understand why I am still here, what I am supposed to be doing with this ridiculous life I've been given.  Life can be so hard, and it seems like it would be easy to give up too often.  I don't know what to eat; I have to take supplements and medicines because no matter how much kale I eat, my folic acid levels are just too low.  Etc., etc., etc.  None of this is important.  What matters is that I am still here; I can still run and bike and do one whole pull-up.  There are all these wonderful things and even though I am struggling with celiac and my weight and energy levels, life is So Good!  I guess I'll just keep working on it, eating steak and Greek yogurt and maybe just suck it up and go buy new shorts.  Thanks for checking in; that's what's been on my mind lately.  Hopefully I'll write more frequently about how this whole celiac/nutrition/running/biking/hiking mountains thing goes.  I've given myself a three-week break from running, but I miss it so it's time to start running more, eating more, thinking less about the negative, focusing on the awesome.  So much awesome...

This game.

I hate this game.  I hate the one rule of this game dictating that whenever I finally start to feel healthy and normal and happy with my life and my level of activity, I get sick.  Some random virus is constantly lurking in the wings, waiting until I am least on my guard and probably a tad stressed.  It waits until the most inopportune of times and then, BAM, comes and kicks me in the teeth. 

Six weeks before a marathon is not the time to be dealing with a cold or the flu or whatever the heck is going on right now.  Six weeks before a marathon is when you're supposed to be running 18 miles on Saturday morning, eating lots of lean protein and complex carbohydrates, and rolling out that pesky IT band.  Six weeks before a marathon is where I find myself right now, wearing two sweaters and not running on a 60-degree day in Denver.  I am so frustrated!  I honestly thought I could do this, could train and stay healthy and rock the Boston Marathon.  That last goal is becoming so much less likely, and I am left wondering why.  Is this all my fault?  Shouldn't I have powered through all this medical B/S from the past few months, forced the miles out of myself knowing that I had no other choice?  Earlier this afternoon, I had the thought that perhaps I expect too much of myself.  Perhaps all these lofty goals of marathons and health are just mirages I conjure in order to set myself up to fail.  Perhaps my mental expectations and my physical limitations are just so disconnected that there is no way to reconcile the two.

Funny story: this past Tuesday, a week after my so-much-fun colonoscopy and endoscopy, my GI doctor called me with the news that I have celiac disease.  My intestinal villi are extremely damaged, and I am no longer properly absorbing nutrients, so hey, happy day, autoimmune disorder most likely brought on by my lowered immune response these past few years!  Cancer just keeps on giving.  So all of the intestinal issues that were limiting my runs (har har) these past few months are a result of an inability to absorb and process gluten.

Okay, great, celiac is manageable, nearly curable.  All I have to do is completely eliminate gluten from my diet.  Beginning right now, six weeks before a marathon.  I acknowledge that being a celiac and an endurance athlete are not mutually exclusive, and, especially around Denver, many people run for hours at a time without ever consuming gluten.  But it hasn't even been a week yet for me, and I am still in shock over the whole thing.  I am still saddened every time I consider Chicago-style pizza or Colorado craft beers.  The other thing is, though I have already begun living gluten-free, it will still take time for my body to heal.  I guess there is a substantial bit of damage to my intestines, and while living gluten-free will eventually allow that damage to heal, it takes time.

So, like I said, I am just frustrated.  I keep getting confirmation e-mails from the Boston Athletic Association, keep plugging away at my fundraising, and keep questioning my decision to sign up for this in the first place.  Regardless of how well I have (or haven't) trained, I am going to be at the start line in six weeks, and I will do What Ever It Takes to get to the finish line in Boston.  I just wish I was more confident.  I wish I didn't have a cold right now; I sure wish I didn't have celiac disease.  BUT.  Here we are, and life keeps coming at me.  These are my realities, along with the reality that I just don't have a normal immune system.  That's just what is up.  I would apologize for all the griping, but I am legitimately at the end of my rope with all of this, and I set this blog up to chronicle my running adventures, and this is one hell of an adventure.  So, if you have any advice for a runner six weeks out from a marathon who hasn't gotten in any significant long runs (I comfortably ran nearly 10 miles 2 weeks ago...?) and suddenly has to change her diet and get over a cold at the same time, I am open to anything!

Thanks for checking in.  P.s., the fundraising is still going!!  If you haven't donated to this crazy, stupid challenge, now might be the time.  Or tell your friends or go drink a beer for me or both.  Right.  Going to try and make it through this week...  Good luck to you all as well.  Peace.

9 weeks.....

In nine short weeks, it will be the night before one of the most storied and historic road races in the country, if not the world.  The night before a race that covers 26.2 miles of western Massachusetts' rolling hills, passes countless universities, and ultimately ends in one of the most beautiful cities in the country.  The Boston Marathon is rapidly approaching, and I have an official charity entry to it.

I am 25 years old; I have been in remission from acute lymphocytic leukemia for five years; I have already completed one marathon.  And someone thought it would be a great idea to offer me a highly sought-after charity entry.  Someone believed I could train through the winter, log in the necessary miles, and show up in Boston in April physically, mentally and spiritually prepared to conquer this marathon.  They also believed my pledge that I could raise funds for this charity, an organization I so strongly support that I committed to doing something I still have no idea if I can do.

So there, then, is the crux of all of this: I have written before that I struggle hugely with self-doubt.  That hasn't gone away...  In fact, as the marathon approaches, my doubt is only growing.  Truth: I am not running nearly enough miles (I don't think).  Before today, I had only run Once in the past two and a half weeks, a run truncated by debilitating stomach cramps.  For whatever reason, the past three weeks have basically just sucked for my general intestine.  I don't know the cause of the issues, but I do know they have really been sidelining me.  None of this excuses me, and I am not trying to justify anything, but do know that it takes a Lot to bring me down.  I did finally see a GI doctor, and he recommended trying a few things to at least alleviate some of my symptoms.  We scheduled a super-fun colonoscopy next week though, so maybe, just maybe, we can get this figured out.  It was heartening though to finally meet with a doctor who was concerned about my weight loss and wants me healthy for this marathon.  (Yes, I've lost weight because I'm just not holding onto the calories I eat.)

Now that I've gotten all that out, the Good.  The good is that even though I didn't run the past two weeks, I haven't lost nearly as much of my fitness as I imagined.  Today, I laced up my bright green sneakers, pulled on shorts over my running tights, yanked on my toque, and headed out my door with the intention of covering 6 miles even if I had to run/walk them.  And I did!  I ran all 6 miles and at my normal pace, no less.  So, that's good.  I felt great, too.  No pain, no muscle fatigue, and relatively easy breathing.  Yes, I have not yet gotten in a good long run.  Yes, that is Hugely important and I kind of really need to get on that.  But yes, I may actually have a pretty solid base mileage, and I am actually in pretty good shape/fitness.  I am still fighting all the self-doubt, but I am done with letting it hold me back.  And also, I am Healthy (GIssues aside), which is beyond awesome.

On March 1 from 7-10 p.m., at the Bannock Street Garage in downtown Denver, I am hosting a fundraiser for First Descents and this marathon challenge.  Finally, the details are coming together for this event, and it is going to be a blast.  Stop by if you're in town!  My miles are accumulating; my fundraising is coming along; the sun is coming out from the clouds just in time for a stunning sunset over the mountains.  We all struggle with something, be it doubt or fear or uncertainty whether we can accomplish what we have set out to do.  The key, I think, is to stare down that emotion.  Acknowledge its presence, accept what it means in your life, then do whatever it takes to persevere and push past it.  Setbacks are an expected part of this life.  It is how we approach them and deal with them that matters.  So I am going to keep fundraising and keep running as far as I can even when I don't know how any of this is going to turn out.

Thanks for checking in; have a wonderful week!!  Running more and more and more....

"You look like a runner."

Hubba, wha??  Yet so said my nurse this morning as she was setting up the IV in my left arm-crook, prepping me for the maintenance drugs I receive once a month to keep the cancer-beasties at bay.  She had asked me if I was an athlete, and when I replied, "Yes, I run," she nodded knowingly and told me I look like a runner.  I am taking this as a tremendous compliment, especially the 'athlete' part.  I live in Denver.  There are Real athletes out here.  I don't consider it fair to count myself among their ranks.  Yes, I am a tiny bit more than a recreational runner, but I am certainly no "athlete."  Apparently, though, I look the part, and I am starting to feel the part. 

Yesterday, with only a small amount of trepidation, I went for a run in the morning.  I ran all four of the miles that my training plan called for.  That makes twice in three days I've run over four miles, the first time I've done that since August.  After August's Colorado Relay, I burned out pretty hard.  I was dealing with the facetumor and a tremendous amount of stress at work and a vague but persistent Sickness.  Running regularly was not high on my to-do list, although I still biked everywhere and walked quite a lot.  I managed to maintain something of a level of fitness so that when I finally started feeling Amazing about a month ago, that whole running thing wasn't such an epic battle to begin again.

So I look like a runner for the first time maybe ever.  Surely that's a good first step on the road to being a marathoner, rocking Boston in less than five months.  As long as you Look the part, right?  But in truth, I can't believe how strong I feel.  I've said this before and I will probably say it many more times, but it never ceases to amaze me the things we can do, particularly in terms of physical feats.  I was sick for so long - for five long years, I have struggled with feeling unwell.  Now, here I am, almost exactly five years after my diagnosis with acute leukemia, training for a marathon, biking everywhere, eating so healthily, and feeling like I can take over the world.  And apparently, looking like a runner.  Five years.  But that's a post for another day (probably Thursday, actually).

I really hope everyone is having a Spectacular week.  Do you have your turkey thawed out yet?  Did you find something to look forward to today?  Tomorrow?  I'm looking forward to a concert I'll be photographing tomorrow night.  Keep on keeping on, and happy Thanksgivings a wee bit early.  Peace.

Sunday Funday

Which, for me, entails sitting in front of a fire with coffee and chocolate (and Emergen-C).  Even better, today's SundayFunday is taking place in the middle of a snowstorm in the mountains.  I am toasty and so happy with life.  A friend and I drove to the mountains last night - he is skiing today, and I am relaxing.  But really, there is no better way or place to chill out and try and keep pushing this sickness as far away from me as possible.

I have not run in one week, and apparently (according to Dr. Mom), colds last 7-10 days.  Hopefully this is only a small setback and I'll start feeling normal soon.  I need to start training hardcorz!  Because......  On April 16, I will be running in the 116th Boston Marathon!

It's official: First Descents received a handful of charity spots for the marathon, and I was lucky enough to be given one of the spots.  In April of 2006, I was a freshman at Boston University and a sometime runner, though never running much longer than 30 minutes or so.  I did not understand what "Marathon Monday" meant to the people of Boston and Massachusetts in general.  Yet on that Patriot's Day, when I was walking down Comm Ave and Boylston Street on my way to work, I was swept up in the energy of the crowd, the mass of runners making their way down the avenues I walked every day.  My friends and most of the college students in the city were all drinking and cheering on the streets; people had beer pong tables set up in front of their brownstones.  Children held out orange slices and were overjoyed when a runner took one.  It was a huge party for 26.2 miles through Massachusetts, with everyone turning out to support a bunch of crazy runners.  When I ran Chicago, I got some of that energy from the city, but I don't know if anything can come close to Boston.

I certainly wanted to, but I never believed I would ever actually get the chance to run the Boston Marathon.  I run, but not quickly - the chances of my qualifying get smaller every year as the times keep getting more difficult.  But this!  This is an opportunity to take part in one of the most famous marathons in the world and to do it with an organization that has facilitated so much of my acceptance of survivorship.

I am attempting to raise $7000 for First Descents.  I have a new Fundraising Page! that, if you feel kind enough to donate, you should use instead of my former FD one.  Share the page, share the good news.  This is going to be so difficult.  Honestly, I am freaking out already even just thinking about the months ahead.  7K is a Lot of money, and 26.2 are a LOT of miles to not only run all at once but to also train for.  Yet, something in me is telling me that I can do this.  We shall see...  I hope you'll follow along with my progress and updates on here and on the Twitters (@cc_bridges).  So much excitement ahead.

Thank you so much for your support, and here we go!

Fundraising link:
http://www.crowdrise.com/TeamFDBoston2012/fundraiser/CarolineBridges