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
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The Cold
Both the external and the internal cold... The first means I wore a toque; the second that I didn't run today. I did, however, brave both colds and go for a walk... It was 9 a.m., 30 degrees and crisp despite a warming sun. The highest of the mountains to the west were covered in snow and stood out in stark relief against the brightest blue sky. I tried to run, really, I did, but after literally two minutes, I felt like my chest was going to explode and the coughing was not far behind. I suppose it is okay though. I would rather allow my body to heal than push myself too hard and not be able to get over this thing quickly. Which is actually a rather novel way of thinking for me. Historically, I have been known to ignore any and all warning signs my body issues, which has led to excessive fatigue, stress, and even cancer. (I couldn't have stopped the cancer, necessarily, but we probably could have caught it a lot earlier.)
Last year while training for Chicago, I went for a moderately long run, 90 minutes I think, and I bonked Hard after maybe only 30. Turns out I really hadn't been consuming enough calories for pretty much the first half of my training. Or, if I was eating enough, they weren't the right kinds of foods. My body finally just stopped and basically said, "I have no energy. I cannot run nine miles, much less three. Eat better!!" So, I started eating more protein and more whole grains, and my energy levels changed dramatically, as did my ability to run the longer distances. Anyway, the moral of this is that I don't feel great right now. It's the beginning of my training; I haven't started running serious distances yet. I am allowing myself the time to mellow, to drink tea and eat oranges and turkey chili and sleep 10 hours per night. Soon enough, I'll be out pounding that pavement and putting the miles behind me. Take care of yourself and you'll be amazed at what you can, in turn, ask of your body.
Last year while training for Chicago, I went for a moderately long run, 90 minutes I think, and I bonked Hard after maybe only 30. Turns out I really hadn't been consuming enough calories for pretty much the first half of my training. Or, if I was eating enough, they weren't the right kinds of foods. My body finally just stopped and basically said, "I have no energy. I cannot run nine miles, much less three. Eat better!!" So, I started eating more protein and more whole grains, and my energy levels changed dramatically, as did my ability to run the longer distances. Anyway, the moral of this is that I don't feel great right now. It's the beginning of my training; I haven't started running serious distances yet. I am allowing myself the time to mellow, to drink tea and eat oranges and turkey chili and sleep 10 hours per night. Soon enough, I'll be out pounding that pavement and putting the miles behind me. Take care of yourself and you'll be amazed at what you can, in turn, ask of your body.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Woah, life updates are in order
Sitting in a coffee shop, sipping chai and munching on a chocolate chip cookie, I am neither running nor cross-training at the moment. In fact, my body decided it would be a great idea to go and find a cold and hold on to it for a few days, so I am taking it as easy as possible to expedite the recovery process. Because, I have embarked on yet another crazy adventure....
In FIVE MONTHS!!, I am going to run a marathon. Run, finish, and rock a marathon. I began training last week, which, for me, means getting in the mindset of running more regularly and running with a purpose. No excuses, no injuries, no turning back now. I am doing this for First Descents, a non-profit based here in Denver. Their mission, as taken directly from the website: "First Descents offers young adult cancer fighters and survivors (ages 18 to 39) a free week-long outdoor adventure experience designed to enable them to climb, paddle and surf beyond their diagnosis, defy their cancer, reclaim their lives and connect with others doing the same." A succinct way of saying, basically, we do awesome things for awesome people. FD changes lives and perspectives and gives YA survivors the opportunity to push themselves past boundaries they didn't even know they'd established.
My first experience with FD was at a rock climbing camp in Jackson, Wyoming. Climbing and rappelling from cliffs in the Tetons, my world expanded far beyond the limits I had unintentionally set for myself as a young adult survivor. I met other young survivors who believed in me even when I didn't have much faith left in myself. From there, my entire perspective changed. Two years later, and I am living in Denver, CO. I never imagined I'd be living here, and honestly, five years ago when I was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia, I don't know if I fully believed I'd still be alive today. Yet here we are: I've rock climbed in Wyoming, Colorado and Utah, all with FD; I packed up my life and moved to a brand new city with only a handful of contacts; I finished the Chicago Marathon; I ran an 18-mile road race in Canada! Shoot, who does that? Actually, I know a lot of people who have done similar things, and most of them I know through FD. An FD camp gives survivors confidence; it instills in them the belief that they can do anything. Camp also establishes a network of friends who are there to bolster that belief whenever it starts to lag. A friend I met through camp in Utah was actually waiting for me at mile 25 of the Chicago Marathon, and she gave me a cinnamon roll when I stumbled across the finish line. It was amazing (both her support and the cinnamon roll).
I want to give back to this group, want to do whatever I possibly can to help other survivors have the same experiences I've had. So, the opportunity has arisen for me to fundraise for FD with the goal of ultimately running (and rocking!) a marathon this coming April. I'm not exactly sure which one yet, but I'll be sure to update as soon as I know which one. I haven't been posting regularly on this thing, but all that is about to change. Writing about my running gives me a little bit more accountability. So, follow along as I train through a Denver winter! Please, please, if you can donate to my cause, do! If you're unable to donate monetarily right now, I'd love some positive vibes. Tell your friends about my quest! Tell your friends about FD! And definitely check out some cool events I'm planning for the near future. Thank you so much, and I'll see you at the finish line. Keep on plugging away!
My FD Fundraising Page:
http://teamfd.firstdescents.org/2011/fd/Fridges2011/thefridge/
In FIVE MONTHS!!, I am going to run a marathon. Run, finish, and rock a marathon. I began training last week, which, for me, means getting in the mindset of running more regularly and running with a purpose. No excuses, no injuries, no turning back now. I am doing this for First Descents, a non-profit based here in Denver. Their mission, as taken directly from the website: "First Descents offers young adult cancer fighters and survivors (ages 18 to 39) a free week-long outdoor adventure experience designed to enable them to climb, paddle and surf beyond their diagnosis, defy their cancer, reclaim their lives and connect with others doing the same." A succinct way of saying, basically, we do awesome things for awesome people. FD changes lives and perspectives and gives YA survivors the opportunity to push themselves past boundaries they didn't even know they'd established.
My first experience with FD was at a rock climbing camp in Jackson, Wyoming. Climbing and rappelling from cliffs in the Tetons, my world expanded far beyond the limits I had unintentionally set for myself as a young adult survivor. I met other young survivors who believed in me even when I didn't have much faith left in myself. From there, my entire perspective changed. Two years later, and I am living in Denver, CO. I never imagined I'd be living here, and honestly, five years ago when I was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia, I don't know if I fully believed I'd still be alive today. Yet here we are: I've rock climbed in Wyoming, Colorado and Utah, all with FD; I packed up my life and moved to a brand new city with only a handful of contacts; I finished the Chicago Marathon; I ran an 18-mile road race in Canada! Shoot, who does that? Actually, I know a lot of people who have done similar things, and most of them I know through FD. An FD camp gives survivors confidence; it instills in them the belief that they can do anything. Camp also establishes a network of friends who are there to bolster that belief whenever it starts to lag. A friend I met through camp in Utah was actually waiting for me at mile 25 of the Chicago Marathon, and she gave me a cinnamon roll when I stumbled across the finish line. It was amazing (both her support and the cinnamon roll).
I want to give back to this group, want to do whatever I possibly can to help other survivors have the same experiences I've had. So, the opportunity has arisen for me to fundraise for FD with the goal of ultimately running (and rocking!) a marathon this coming April. I'm not exactly sure which one yet, but I'll be sure to update as soon as I know which one. I haven't been posting regularly on this thing, but all that is about to change. Writing about my running gives me a little bit more accountability. So, follow along as I train through a Denver winter! Please, please, if you can donate to my cause, do! If you're unable to donate monetarily right now, I'd love some positive vibes. Tell your friends about my quest! Tell your friends about FD! And definitely check out some cool events I'm planning for the near future. Thank you so much, and I'll see you at the finish line. Keep on plugging away!
My FD Fundraising Page:
http://teamfd.firstdescents.org/2011/fd/Fridges2011/thefridge/
Friday, July 22, 2011
Rocky Mountain runner's high
Oh, hello July. Hello, 12 weeks into my new life in Denver. I think things here are finally starting to take. Amazingly, the immunoglobulin infusions are working! I have received three infusions so far, and my intestinal issues are entirely resolved. No more dehydration and malabsorption concerns, no more debilitating cramps all the time. It is amazing. My sinus infections are getting better, and although I still have a lot of gunk in my sinuses, I can breathe (almost) easily, and the headaches are gone.
All of this means, of course, that I have been running more. I also only have a bike here, so I have been biking and walking everywhere. Most Coloradans consider Denver to be pretty flat, and it is, but compared to Chicago, Denver has some pretty epic hills scattered about. I still struggle every time I have to climb the hill that I now live on, huffing and puffing on my mountain bike. The upside of this is that I am the slimmest I've been in maybe 8 years, and I'm in great shape.
The first two months I was living here, I was having a pretty difficult time adjusting to living on my own. I didn't question my decision to move, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do with myself. My living situation was not ideal for enjoying the city; my work situation was nowhere near what I wanted; and I was eating terribly so I had very little energy. I was also sick for those entire 8 weeks, so very little running and a whole lot of coughing. My poor roommate must have been so upset he ended up with the sick girl.
July 1, I moved out of my old, temporary apartment and into this beautiful, sunny and huge place right in downtown. My new roommate is fantastic for a number of different reasons, and while I still have the same, lame job, my life has gotten significantly better. I just feel more comfortable with where I am, although I am also still working out what on earth I'm supposed to be doing.
So I met this guy two nights ago, and he's awesome. Without sharing details, I basically put on my stupid-face and now I'm pretty certain I won't be hearing from him, ever. I spent yesterday in a foul mood because I had convinced myself that my actions had driven away this smart, funny, outdoor-oriented man. I went to work, and my apologies if I served you a latte yesterday; my head wasn't in the game. Then, this morning, the strangest thing happened. I went for a run, running a bit faster and a little farther than my prior runs. I zoned out, focused on trying to breathe and keeping my upper body loose. After the run, while enjoying a chai and endorphin rush, I realized that, whatever. So what if this guy never calls me back. It's his loss, and honestly, this is Denver. There are smart mountain bikers Every Where. Yes, I'm still a little angry at myself for my actions, but I walked back to my apartment (post-run) with my iced chai and a huge grin on my face because I am living and surviving on my own in Denver. I can run a speedy little 5K and feel great. Yeah, my job still sucks, but I am meeting some seriously cool people, and there is just too much awesome all around to spend any time worrying about a social setback.
I had dinner with a friend in Boulder the other night, and I told her that even if I am completely dissatisfied with my current work situation, and I'm struggling with the whole "go be social" thing, I find happiness in so many of the little things throughout my day. Frozen yogurt after climbing with people I've just met. A sparklingly clear day that shows off the snow still capping the highest of the mountains in the distance. A house I passed on my run that seriously looked like a tree house. Iced chai and a blueberry oat muffin after a run that three months ago, I couldn't finish.
Life is hard as hell. People will break your heart; situations will seemingly conspire against you for interminable periods of time. But time keeps moving forward. A good friend of mine is going through a really tough time right now, and I don't know if I helped at all or not, but I told him last night that my mantra for the past two years was that for better or worse, things will change. Whatever situation you currently find yourself in, it will eventually change. It's how I survived living at home with my parents for two years after college. I told myself: this is temporary. And it was. Here I am, living in Denver, trying to figure out survival as an adult as opposed to survival after cancer. Every day brings something amazing with it. You just have to look for the details and learn to appreciate them. As for you, guy who I doubt will become one of the people in my life, you seriously are very cool. But you are so not worth my stressing over.
Anyway. Ruminations resulting from my post-run clarity. Thanks for your indulging them (me). Running more, thinking less, loving life so much.
All of this means, of course, that I have been running more. I also only have a bike here, so I have been biking and walking everywhere. Most Coloradans consider Denver to be pretty flat, and it is, but compared to Chicago, Denver has some pretty epic hills scattered about. I still struggle every time I have to climb the hill that I now live on, huffing and puffing on my mountain bike. The upside of this is that I am the slimmest I've been in maybe 8 years, and I'm in great shape.
The first two months I was living here, I was having a pretty difficult time adjusting to living on my own. I didn't question my decision to move, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do with myself. My living situation was not ideal for enjoying the city; my work situation was nowhere near what I wanted; and I was eating terribly so I had very little energy. I was also sick for those entire 8 weeks, so very little running and a whole lot of coughing. My poor roommate must have been so upset he ended up with the sick girl.
July 1, I moved out of my old, temporary apartment and into this beautiful, sunny and huge place right in downtown. My new roommate is fantastic for a number of different reasons, and while I still have the same, lame job, my life has gotten significantly better. I just feel more comfortable with where I am, although I am also still working out what on earth I'm supposed to be doing.
So I met this guy two nights ago, and he's awesome. Without sharing details, I basically put on my stupid-face and now I'm pretty certain I won't be hearing from him, ever. I spent yesterday in a foul mood because I had convinced myself that my actions had driven away this smart, funny, outdoor-oriented man. I went to work, and my apologies if I served you a latte yesterday; my head wasn't in the game. Then, this morning, the strangest thing happened. I went for a run, running a bit faster and a little farther than my prior runs. I zoned out, focused on trying to breathe and keeping my upper body loose. After the run, while enjoying a chai and endorphin rush, I realized that, whatever. So what if this guy never calls me back. It's his loss, and honestly, this is Denver. There are smart mountain bikers Every Where. Yes, I'm still a little angry at myself for my actions, but I walked back to my apartment (post-run) with my iced chai and a huge grin on my face because I am living and surviving on my own in Denver. I can run a speedy little 5K and feel great. Yeah, my job still sucks, but I am meeting some seriously cool people, and there is just too much awesome all around to spend any time worrying about a social setback.
I had dinner with a friend in Boulder the other night, and I told her that even if I am completely dissatisfied with my current work situation, and I'm struggling with the whole "go be social" thing, I find happiness in so many of the little things throughout my day. Frozen yogurt after climbing with people I've just met. A sparklingly clear day that shows off the snow still capping the highest of the mountains in the distance. A house I passed on my run that seriously looked like a tree house. Iced chai and a blueberry oat muffin after a run that three months ago, I couldn't finish.
Life is hard as hell. People will break your heart; situations will seemingly conspire against you for interminable periods of time. But time keeps moving forward. A good friend of mine is going through a really tough time right now, and I don't know if I helped at all or not, but I told him last night that my mantra for the past two years was that for better or worse, things will change. Whatever situation you currently find yourself in, it will eventually change. It's how I survived living at home with my parents for two years after college. I told myself: this is temporary. And it was. Here I am, living in Denver, trying to figure out survival as an adult as opposed to survival after cancer. Every day brings something amazing with it. You just have to look for the details and learn to appreciate them. As for you, guy who I doubt will become one of the people in my life, you seriously are very cool. But you are so not worth my stressing over.
Anyway. Ruminations resulting from my post-run clarity. Thanks for your indulging them (me). Running more, thinking less, loving life so much.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Maybe I should just call it a day....
And yet, "Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, despair, not feast on thee." Gerard Manly Hopkins' "Carrion Comfort." In some of my lowest times, this poem pops into my head. I won't post the entire thing here, but it is a Petrarchan sonnet about a world-weary man, downtrodden and questioning the reason behind his misfortunes. It begins with his adamant refusal to give in, to "not choose not to be," but it isn't exactly a positive poem. There is no happy, shiny ending where he allows that life is kick-ass and wonderful and all is well. He ends wondering why he has so long refused to give in to despair. Is it because of or in spite of his "God?"
Anyway, even if I don't understand the whole thing, and every time I read it I get something new from it, I still find this poem can offer me solace when my life is all kinds of crazy. I have officially been living in Denver for four weeks. I have run three times; I have biked about as much; and I have been some degree of ill these entire four weeks. My job is bringing me down, although I have already found some pretty cool people in my coworkers. And I only have one shaky job prospect I'm waiting to hear about. Hey life, you aren't what I was expecting right now...
Of course, though, there is a huge BUT. But I'm pretty sure I'm mostly acclimated to the altitude: my RHR is back down to about 50. I have some color (and new freckles) on my face and a sock tan on my ankles because it is Sunny!! here. A new friend invited me to a concert last night, a group called The Future Jazz Project, and they were awesome. Music can and will and does make everything better. Who knew Denver has a pretty awesome underground eclectic jazz scene? Hopefully, in the next few weeks, I will start volunteering with a very cool non-profit based in Boulder, Outdoor Mindset. I met with one of the group's founders last week, and it was really inspiring: I am looking forward to being able to give back something after having experienced my own crazy life-dramas. Finally, I am At Last going to get the immuno-therapy I desperately need. This whole "lack of infection-fighting cells" thing is getting too ridiculous, so this Tuesday I'll be sitting in some outpatient clinic, heavily Benadryl'd and receiving a six-hour infusion of someone else's immunoglobulins. Hopefully this will be the start of reclaiming some internal equilibrium.
Once I'm no longer coughing all the time, I'll be able to get serious about running again. Life may be
all scattered and uncertain right now, but I am still here, still kicking and screaming and wishing I was running and biking and mountain climbing carelessly. All things in time, and so I'm not giving in to despair. There are too many good things just ahead of me; it's just a matter of straightening everything out and reaching for all the possibilities. Right. So, four weeks in, and here I am. It's crazy, and I still can't believe I just up and moved, but I have no regrets. I am loving it - loving living.
Anyway, even if I don't understand the whole thing, and every time I read it I get something new from it, I still find this poem can offer me solace when my life is all kinds of crazy. I have officially been living in Denver for four weeks. I have run three times; I have biked about as much; and I have been some degree of ill these entire four weeks. My job is bringing me down, although I have already found some pretty cool people in my coworkers. And I only have one shaky job prospect I'm waiting to hear about. Hey life, you aren't what I was expecting right now...
Of course, though, there is a huge BUT. But I'm pretty sure I'm mostly acclimated to the altitude: my RHR is back down to about 50. I have some color (and new freckles) on my face and a sock tan on my ankles because it is Sunny!! here. A new friend invited me to a concert last night, a group called The Future Jazz Project, and they were awesome. Music can and will and does make everything better. Who knew Denver has a pretty awesome underground eclectic jazz scene? Hopefully, in the next few weeks, I will start volunteering with a very cool non-profit based in Boulder, Outdoor Mindset. I met with one of the group's founders last week, and it was really inspiring: I am looking forward to being able to give back something after having experienced my own crazy life-dramas. Finally, I am At Last going to get the immuno-therapy I desperately need. This whole "lack of infection-fighting cells" thing is getting too ridiculous, so this Tuesday I'll be sitting in some outpatient clinic, heavily Benadryl'd and receiving a six-hour infusion of someone else's immunoglobulins. Hopefully this will be the start of reclaiming some internal equilibrium.
Once I'm no longer coughing all the time, I'll be able to get serious about running again. Life may be
all scattered and uncertain right now, but I am still here, still kicking and screaming and wishing I was running and biking and mountain climbing carelessly. All things in time, and so I'm not giving in to despair. There are too many good things just ahead of me; it's just a matter of straightening everything out and reaching for all the possibilities. Right. So, four weeks in, and here I am. It's crazy, and I still can't believe I just up and moved, but I have no regrets. I am loving it - loving living.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Today was brought to you by the letter "F!"
as in, "fail." I swear I never meant for it to happen. I swear, when I ventured into the REI flagship store in downtown Denver, I was merely curious about the behemoth as a whole. No funny business. Maybe, perhaps, I would have been interested had someone wanted to talk to me about climbing harnesses, but that was It, and no one did anyway. Before I even walked through the massive double doors with ice axes for handles, my mind exploded: they have a bouldering boulder out front. For actual bouldering! I walked in and right in front of me, there was a climbing wall! I'm sure I looked like a total idiot, standing behind the guardrail staring open-mouthed at the hulking mass of fake rock looming in the middle of the store. Then I looked right, and there was all the climbing gear. That's when the drool started. So many different sticky shoes; So many harnesses; So much dynamic rope; So, so many pieces of shiny, metal gear! Carabineers; ATCs; grigris; spring-loaded camming devices from very small to larger than my hand. Honestly, I'm not a gear head. I own a mediocre pair of climbing shoes, and that is all, but seeing all this stuff just reminded me of the possibilities, the potential. I have a whole, huge life ahead of me, and I intend to spend at least some of it climbing rocks.
Not knowing anything about what to buy, though, I tore myself away from the climbing department and wandered through the rest of the store. I happened into the daypack/hydration department, where my brain went, oh hey Caroline, you should totally get some sort of hydrating apparatus for when you're running long distances and you start to get thirsty! And it is so hard to tell your brain "no." Sigh. That was, perhaps, my first mistake. After too much deliberation, I opted for a 22 oz. hand-held bottle with a little pocket that my cell phone and a gel could fit in. Surely this was a good investment... A girl's gotta stay hydrated out on the trails, and not all of my running shorts have pockets for running-related miscellany. I should have left it at that. Should have taken my water bottle and gotten out of that den of lust and athleticism.
Too bad I kept walking around; too bad I ended up in the footwear department. Too bad a store associate started talking to me while I was gazing longingly at the running shoes, but again, not knowing where to start, I honestly wasn't thinking about getting anything. Yet here comes "Chris," 25-year running veteran, apparently a formerly competitive runner, and he tells me, oh yeah, sure, I'd recommend this trail running shoe for you. Here, just try it on.... That was it; game over.
I walked out of REI with a brand new pair of trail running shoes and a water bottle. Never mind my apprehension about being able to pay my rent. Never mind needing to eat. And certainly never mind getting a lamp for my bedroom. I've got new, bright lime green trail running shoes!! At least I didn't buy an $800 road bike...? I also used whatever will power was left and stayed out of the sock department. Socks being my Achilles heel, for serious. I guess I am already embracing a certain Coloradan tenet: spend any money you have on awesome gear for your crazy outdoor lifestyle. Anything left over goes to the rest of that "stuff" people supposedly need to pay for (rent, insurance, electric bills, clif bars). I might say their priorities are a little skewed, but, no, I don't think so.
So I made it back to my apartment and promptly took my new kicks out for a little run. Again, key word being Little. I wish so much I could just pick up where I left off running, six weeks ago, but life and fitness don't quite work like that. It is going to take time to acclimate to Denver, and it is going to take time for me to get back in good running shape. But hey, at least I've started. And now, if someone asks me to go for a run up a mountain, I have the right shoes for it. So that's something. Now, too, I know not to just wander into the REI store on a whim. Nothing good will come of it... well, nothing good to my bank account. I personally am pretty freaking excited about these shoes.
Running more. In lime green shoes!
Not knowing anything about what to buy, though, I tore myself away from the climbing department and wandered through the rest of the store. I happened into the daypack/hydration department, where my brain went, oh hey Caroline, you should totally get some sort of hydrating apparatus for when you're running long distances and you start to get thirsty! And it is so hard to tell your brain "no." Sigh. That was, perhaps, my first mistake. After too much deliberation, I opted for a 22 oz. hand-held bottle with a little pocket that my cell phone and a gel could fit in. Surely this was a good investment... A girl's gotta stay hydrated out on the trails, and not all of my running shorts have pockets for running-related miscellany. I should have left it at that. Should have taken my water bottle and gotten out of that den of lust and athleticism.
Too bad I kept walking around; too bad I ended up in the footwear department. Too bad a store associate started talking to me while I was gazing longingly at the running shoes, but again, not knowing where to start, I honestly wasn't thinking about getting anything. Yet here comes "Chris," 25-year running veteran, apparently a formerly competitive runner, and he tells me, oh yeah, sure, I'd recommend this trail running shoe for you. Here, just try it on.... That was it; game over.
I walked out of REI with a brand new pair of trail running shoes and a water bottle. Never mind my apprehension about being able to pay my rent. Never mind needing to eat. And certainly never mind getting a lamp for my bedroom. I've got new, bright lime green trail running shoes!! At least I didn't buy an $800 road bike...? I also used whatever will power was left and stayed out of the sock department. Socks being my Achilles heel, for serious. I guess I am already embracing a certain Coloradan tenet: spend any money you have on awesome gear for your crazy outdoor lifestyle. Anything left over goes to the rest of that "stuff" people supposedly need to pay for (rent, insurance, electric bills, clif bars). I might say their priorities are a little skewed, but, no, I don't think so.
So I made it back to my apartment and promptly took my new kicks out for a little run. Again, key word being Little. I wish so much I could just pick up where I left off running, six weeks ago, but life and fitness don't quite work like that. It is going to take time to acclimate to Denver, and it is going to take time for me to get back in good running shape. But hey, at least I've started. And now, if someone asks me to go for a run up a mountain, I have the right shoes for it. So that's something. Now, too, I know not to just wander into the REI store on a whim. Nothing good will come of it... well, nothing good to my bank account. I personally am pretty freaking excited about these shoes.
Running more. In lime green shoes!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Whoops...
Guess I'll just skip April altogether and call it a day then. Here's the takeaway from the past five (plus) weeks: somehow and against all expectations, I ran and actually Finished the Around the Bay Road Race in Hamilton, Ontario, on March 27. It was a blistering 18 degrees at the start, but it was also completely sunny. Surrounded by nearly 7000 other runners, I barely felt the cold once I got moving. All told, I finished very near the end of the pack, but considering I (really) hadn't adequately trained, I did a lot better than I could have hoped. So, hooray! 18 miles, done and done.
Unfortunately, the following week, I developed an epic cold and have only run once since March 27th, a measly 2.5 miles. Even that was a struggle. One of the things I realized is that I can be sick and work, or I can be sick and run, but I cannot be sick and do both things. Income trumped cardio.
Raging sinus infection or no, life goes on, and I find myself, five weeks following my crazy Canadian race, living in Denver, Colorado. Wait, what?? Yes, yes, I moved to Denver. Four Days Ago. No car, which means I have been walking all over the place these past few days trying to find groceries, toilet paper, a lamp for my bedroom (still looking for that last one...). Two things are worth noting for context's sake: One is that I walked Everywhere when I went to school in Boston. I was a walking machine because it was easy and necessary to walk around Boston. The second thing is that once I moved back to Chicago following my graduation, I no longer had to walk, much less walk miles and miles at a time. Sure, I ran lots, but walking is definitely different. Living in the suburbs with nowhere to walk to, I became complacent and comfortable driving my parents' car if I needed to get somewhere. Four days ago, all of that changed. I was once more thrown into a situation where I don't have a car, and there are limited means of getting myself around. Some weird leg muscles are currently crazy sore, but walking it is!
Now, this blog is sort of supposedly about running. I haven't run much lately, hence the lack of writing about my running. What was I supposed to say, "Yep, another day where I couldn't really breathe, just sat around feeling guilty and eating."? No, because that's lame. Also, while the sinus infection was my main deterrent, I think I was also kind of burnt out after all the pressure I had been putting on myself about the 30K and not training enough for it. I just needed to chill out and not feel like I had to go outside in the rain/snow/greyness and train for some race.
But now I live in Denver... Now I live within sight of the Rocky Mountains and right beside one of the major trail systems that runs through and around the city. Now there is actual sunshine - already, my schnoz is sunburned. Now I am Finally on antibiotics and I can actually breathe through my nose again; my sinuses aren't out of control painful! It is very exciting. So today, after spending the past three days just walking around, today I laced up my sneakers (sort of new Nikes that I don't really like) and headed to the Cherry Creek Trail directly behind my apartment. I jacked up the volume on my ipod and took off. And I ran for a whole entire 15 minutes (gee whiz.) before doubling over gasping for air and desperately needing a walk break. All told, I ran about 3 miles, with a few intermittent walks.
My God, am I out of shape. Actually, it's more my lungs that are weak, I think. Between being sick and now living 5,280 miles about sea level, I was struggling for sure. It is too late for me to turn back now, and actually, I am already registered for another race, the Colorado Relay. Terrifying, I know, but hey, why not. Anyway, I have over three months to train for it, so I should be good... I hope.
There's only one way to find out, I suppose. I ran today; I am going to run tomorrow. I will probably be walking much more as the weeks progress, and I am fairly sure that my mountain bike (!!) is on its way as well. Ugh, there is so much to look forward to out here. Life is pretty damn exciting right now, even if I am also scared out of my mind that I am going to run out of money and not be able to pay my rent and my bills and then I guess I'll end up one of the friendly homeless people scattered throughout downtown Denver. But not tomorrow, anyway.
This life of mine is all about having crazy and absurdly amazing goals (the Colorado Relay!?) while still living day to day and not letting my anxiety overwhelm me. I am not sure I had ever really thought about moving to Denver before maybe three months ago, but here I am, alive and breathing and starting to run again. Who knows what this life will bring? I pray that the bad will occasionally be tempered by some good, and I pray I will be able to conquer the bad that occurs anyway. Running helps. Friends help a lot. Looking at the Rocky Mountains is pretty awesome as well. And one day (soon, I hope), I will be running with friends up and through those mountains. Crazy stuff, but hey, it's life, and it is all mine.
Running more. At altitude!
Unfortunately, the following week, I developed an epic cold and have only run once since March 27th, a measly 2.5 miles. Even that was a struggle. One of the things I realized is that I can be sick and work, or I can be sick and run, but I cannot be sick and do both things. Income trumped cardio.
Raging sinus infection or no, life goes on, and I find myself, five weeks following my crazy Canadian race, living in Denver, Colorado. Wait, what?? Yes, yes, I moved to Denver. Four Days Ago. No car, which means I have been walking all over the place these past few days trying to find groceries, toilet paper, a lamp for my bedroom (still looking for that last one...). Two things are worth noting for context's sake: One is that I walked Everywhere when I went to school in Boston. I was a walking machine because it was easy and necessary to walk around Boston. The second thing is that once I moved back to Chicago following my graduation, I no longer had to walk, much less walk miles and miles at a time. Sure, I ran lots, but walking is definitely different. Living in the suburbs with nowhere to walk to, I became complacent and comfortable driving my parents' car if I needed to get somewhere. Four days ago, all of that changed. I was once more thrown into a situation where I don't have a car, and there are limited means of getting myself around. Some weird leg muscles are currently crazy sore, but walking it is!
Now, this blog is sort of supposedly about running. I haven't run much lately, hence the lack of writing about my running. What was I supposed to say, "Yep, another day where I couldn't really breathe, just sat around feeling guilty and eating."? No, because that's lame. Also, while the sinus infection was my main deterrent, I think I was also kind of burnt out after all the pressure I had been putting on myself about the 30K and not training enough for it. I just needed to chill out and not feel like I had to go outside in the rain/snow/greyness and train for some race.
But now I live in Denver... Now I live within sight of the Rocky Mountains and right beside one of the major trail systems that runs through and around the city. Now there is actual sunshine - already, my schnoz is sunburned. Now I am Finally on antibiotics and I can actually breathe through my nose again; my sinuses aren't out of control painful! It is very exciting. So today, after spending the past three days just walking around, today I laced up my sneakers (sort of new Nikes that I don't really like) and headed to the Cherry Creek Trail directly behind my apartment. I jacked up the volume on my ipod and took off. And I ran for a whole entire 15 minutes (gee whiz.) before doubling over gasping for air and desperately needing a walk break. All told, I ran about 3 miles, with a few intermittent walks.
My God, am I out of shape. Actually, it's more my lungs that are weak, I think. Between being sick and now living 5,280 miles about sea level, I was struggling for sure. It is too late for me to turn back now, and actually, I am already registered for another race, the Colorado Relay. Terrifying, I know, but hey, why not. Anyway, I have over three months to train for it, so I should be good... I hope.
There's only one way to find out, I suppose. I ran today; I am going to run tomorrow. I will probably be walking much more as the weeks progress, and I am fairly sure that my mountain bike (!!) is on its way as well. Ugh, there is so much to look forward to out here. Life is pretty damn exciting right now, even if I am also scared out of my mind that I am going to run out of money and not be able to pay my rent and my bills and then I guess I'll end up one of the friendly homeless people scattered throughout downtown Denver. But not tomorrow, anyway.
This life of mine is all about having crazy and absurdly amazing goals (the Colorado Relay!?) while still living day to day and not letting my anxiety overwhelm me. I am not sure I had ever really thought about moving to Denver before maybe three months ago, but here I am, alive and breathing and starting to run again. Who knows what this life will bring? I pray that the bad will occasionally be tempered by some good, and I pray I will be able to conquer the bad that occurs anyway. Running helps. Friends help a lot. Looking at the Rocky Mountains is pretty awesome as well. And one day (soon, I hope), I will be running with friends up and through those mountains. Crazy stuff, but hey, it's life, and it is all mine.
Running more. At altitude!
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