Which means: jazz on the radio, garlic and rosemary sockeye, white sweet potato roasties, and, now, organic hot chocolate. There is a mini Christmas tree glowing in the fireplace-space of my apartment, nestled beneath a large glass jar stuffed with some more glowey Christmas lights. You cannot have too many Christmas lights glowing all around. Standing in the corner, right next to my jam-packed bookshelf, are a pair of lime green and black and orange (?!) crazy, ridiculous powder skis that, every time I look at them, make me think of my crazy, ridiculous boyfriend powder skier. (I look at those skis a lot.) There is a 1950s-era fully functional record player across the room, hanging out beneath our vintage disco ball. It's time to bust out the Beach Boys Christmas album! which we do have.
I am blessed. I am grateful and lucky and beyond amazed every day that I am here, living this life. A blog I was reading earlier today contained this statement: "Life can change, powerfully, in six years." She was referring to having been diagnosed with celiac disease six years earlier. Six years ago, for me, I was diagnosed with cancer. Life changed, powerfully, in the course of one week. Six years ago, I had no idea what the next months, weeks of my life would bring. I knew only that I had to do everything possible to stay alive, to go back to school the next year.
I don't think there is anything in this world that can prepare you for a life-shaking, paradigm-shattering event. Doesn't matter if it is celiac or cancer or lupus or the birth of a child or whatever. Other people say things like, "I couldn't do what you've done." But that isn't true. If you want it badly enough, you will do whatever it takes to adapt to this new challenge. Even though I used it once, I really don't like the term "new normal." Can anyone define for me "old normal?" Is it normal to sleep 4 or 5 hours a night, depend on caffeine and processed foods to sustain us during the day, use alcohol or substances as a means of relaxation? Don't tell me that is normal; don't even try. We are all so individualized. The glory of our lives is that we have the freedom to choose how we want to approach our days. We really can choose our attitudes. There is no science to confirm or deny that my (mostly) positive attitude helped me beat cancer, but I am cancer-free six years later despite still consuming mass quantities of sugar.
It's funny: most high school and college kids have a plan for their lives; they have at least a vague idea of where they'll be in five years' time. When I was a senior in college, five years ago, I had no remote vision of my future. I was still entrenched in the reality that I might not live to see the next semester. Everything has gone in a completely different direction than I would have thought. I always thought my younger brother would live in Colorado, not me. I would have said, "Oh wow, that's super cool! But so unlikely!" if someone had told me by 2013 I'd have completed two marathons, Chicago and Boston. I'd have climbed in Wyoming and Utah and Colorado, photographed the President and countless bands, friends, mountain bikers. Worked at Starbucks. Still worked at Starbucks... If someone had told me that in five years time, I would decide to go back to school for science. Like, for real. Science. Who does science??
And yet here I am, six years later, doing science. Doing science because I want to know what happened to my body and how I can fix it nutritionally. I, too, was diagnosed with celiac, but it popped up as a result of the immunodeficiency caused by chemo. Chronic inflammation, sinusitis: things that I can control with diet and exercise, things I so badly want to help others understand and control with diet and exercise. "I couldn't do what you've done..." What, couldn't eliminate gluten because it was a life or death situation? Of course you could! And discover quinoa and quinoa flour and garlic rosemary sockeye and white sweet potatoes! Life is worth figuring out how to make it work. It might even end up infinitely better than what you imagined.
In the meantime, so much for running and blogging about it. I haven't been running almost as much as I haven't been writing. I have been running a little bit, but not enough and with no motivation behind it. I think I need something to work towards. I'm not one of those people who can just Run. I need to train, even if it's half-hearted. I need a reason to haul out of bed when it's dark and cold when I would much prefer to sleep a little longer. So, if anyone wants to suggest a spring/early summer race, OR, if someone wants to train with me, please let me know!
There are so many beautiful things in this world, in my life. Again, so much to be grateful for. I am normal (hah) and lose sight of that perspective sometimes, but I also always come right back to it. It's been six years, and I am still kicking, and kicking it in Colorado, no less! I have my very own pair of gnarly skis! I have a plan and a vision for my future. It's an incredible one, too. I have No Idea how any of it will work out, but it is there, at least. It is something to work towards while still living every day and appreciating everything I have. We are all so lucky to be here. I only ask that you consider everything you're blessed with, realize that nothing is permanent and it is all we can do to appreciate what we have right now. Thank you for tuning in, hopefully I'll be back sooner. There has been a lot on my mind lately; maybe I'll share some more of it.
Trying to run more; thinking less about the small stuff. Love!
Showing posts with label celiac disease. Show all posts
Showing posts with label celiac disease. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Huffing and puffing.
There's nothing like a little mountain-hiking in Colorado to school you in fitness. Yesterday, on my day off, I thought it would be a wonderful idea to go and hike Mt. Sanitas in Boulder. It was a wonderful idea, but at over 1300 ft. of elevation gain in 1.2 miles, it is a pretty stiff hike. I also thought it would be a great idea to run as much of the downhill as I could. I tried, but there was No Chance of my running up the thing. Boulderites being crazy, there were actually a handful of people running the whole 3-mile loop, though there were more of us breathing heavily and stopping to "take in the view." It is a beautiful view. Today, though, I am sore. Running downhill and hiking up a whole lot of stairs took its toll on my legs.
Actually, my whole body feels out of whack. My question becomes, did I fuel properly for this hike, short as it was? Or was I possibly dehydrated and undernourished? I just don't feel well today. Additionally, I think somewhere in my consumptions over the past day or two, I ate gluten. I haven't felt this crummy (haha...) in maybe two months, or since this whole game started. Really, I don't know what else it could be. The symptoms are the same: gas, nausea, heartburn. Lame. A whole lot of lame. The issue is cross-contamination. Obviously, I did not consciously consume gluten. No whole wheat bread or delicious, delicious beer. I did, though, eat out at a restaurant that cannot guarantee their food didn't come into contact with a gluten source. Where does one draw the line between caution and calculated risk? If I go to a Mexican restaurant and eat the corn tortilla chips, I tend to trust they are 100% corn. But maybe I'm too trusting; but more likely I'm just still getting used to all of this.
So. Let's summarize: a hearty hike and a speedy run. Something funky going on in my gut yesterday and today. Too much coffee yesterday and not enough water and ultimately not enough quality sleep. The result? Total-body and brain fatigue. Of course, this is all pure speculation based entirely on how I feel, but I imagine that my body was unable to process and absorb the nutrients and vitamins necessary to heal and rebound after a (moderately) intense athletic session. This is all silly and frustrating, but it is also interesting to me how my body responds to certain stimuli and restrictions. Our bodies are so finely tuned, and I have been working hard recently to make sure mine stays healthy, that it becomes much more obvious when something is wrong. I guess the key, then, is to acknowledge that "off" feeling, try and root out the source, and fix whatever the problem may be. I ate a lot of vegetables and very little coffee today. Still, probably didn't drink enough water... Baby steps.
So anyway, the adventures of celiac-runner continue. Hopefully my gut will be a bit better tomorrow... I just signed up for a month of yoga, and I can't have intestinal issues while I'm stretching and strengthening and clearing my mind of all negativity! Thanks for checking in; happy hump day; happy spring. Thinking less; eating more; running sometimes.
Actually, my whole body feels out of whack. My question becomes, did I fuel properly for this hike, short as it was? Or was I possibly dehydrated and undernourished? I just don't feel well today. Additionally, I think somewhere in my consumptions over the past day or two, I ate gluten. I haven't felt this crummy (haha...) in maybe two months, or since this whole game started. Really, I don't know what else it could be. The symptoms are the same: gas, nausea, heartburn. Lame. A whole lot of lame. The issue is cross-contamination. Obviously, I did not consciously consume gluten. No whole wheat bread or delicious, delicious beer. I did, though, eat out at a restaurant that cannot guarantee their food didn't come into contact with a gluten source. Where does one draw the line between caution and calculated risk? If I go to a Mexican restaurant and eat the corn tortilla chips, I tend to trust they are 100% corn. But maybe I'm too trusting; but more likely I'm just still getting used to all of this.
So. Let's summarize: a hearty hike and a speedy run. Something funky going on in my gut yesterday and today. Too much coffee yesterday and not enough water and ultimately not enough quality sleep. The result? Total-body and brain fatigue. Of course, this is all pure speculation based entirely on how I feel, but I imagine that my body was unable to process and absorb the nutrients and vitamins necessary to heal and rebound after a (moderately) intense athletic session. This is all silly and frustrating, but it is also interesting to me how my body responds to certain stimuli and restrictions. Our bodies are so finely tuned, and I have been working hard recently to make sure mine stays healthy, that it becomes much more obvious when something is wrong. I guess the key, then, is to acknowledge that "off" feeling, try and root out the source, and fix whatever the problem may be. I ate a lot of vegetables and very little coffee today. Still, probably didn't drink enough water... Baby steps.
So anyway, the adventures of celiac-runner continue. Hopefully my gut will be a bit better tomorrow... I just signed up for a month of yoga, and I can't have intestinal issues while I'm stretching and strengthening and clearing my mind of all negativity! Thanks for checking in; happy hump day; happy spring. Thinking less; eating more; running sometimes.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
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...
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...
Sunday, March 4, 2012
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.
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.
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