Writer's block?

Maybe, kind of, sort of, but not really.  Really what happened is my computer has been acting completely out of control lately.  Basically, it won't stay on.  I am not quite sure why any of this is happening, but for the past few weeks, I have been without a computer.  Life without a laptop is terribly disconcerting, especially when a significant portion of the reason for your existence is centered around your computer. (Okay, maybe that's a stretch, but I am a photographer and if I have no computer, I have no way of doing anything for or with my images and it is a bad scene.)

Besides being unable to upload my photography, I have not really been able to do much in terms of fundraising for this marathon I am running in nearly 3 Months.  I am still nowhere near my goal of $7000, though I have already raised a lot of money and Thank You!! if you have donated.  But I am trying to organize a benefit in early March, trying to write letters of solicitation and find organizations willing to donate items for an auction, trying to find a venue to host this entire shindig.  All of these things are possible without a computer but they are infinitely more difficult for a person who has grown up with a keyboard at her fingertips.  Also, I have basically no idea what I am doing, and for whatever reason, I at least feel like I am accomplishing something when I am Googling things and typing letters and reading about training plans on different running websites.

Oh, running.  Of course, there has been running.  At least, there had been running up until about this past Saturday, when I started getting that obnoxious scratch right at the back of my throat, surely you know the one: you swallow, and your throat burns and itches a bit; it becomes more difficult to consume solid foods because there seems to be a little swelling happening at the base of your tongue.  And it can all only mean one thing: despite all my best efforts, prayers, and vitamin C consumption, I have fallen prey to the dreaded winter cold.  I know exactly what happened, too.  I stayed out too late on New Year's Eve, worked too many hours the following week, started running farther distances (8 miles!), and I walk or bike everywhere regardless of the time or weather because I don't have a car.  On top of all this business, the reality is that my immune system is depleted, and there is nothing I can do about it.  So, while maybe not inevitable, the chances of my catching a stupid bug are pretty high.  The good news is that I am babying myself, drinking absurd quantities of water, and I had my three-weekly infusion of immunotherapy yesterday, so that should hopefully help.

I was supposed to have run 10 miles this past weekend.  I did not.  I actually ran 2 miles yesterday before stopping, doubled over in pain because had I thought it would be a good idea to eat not-exactly-lean chicken thighs and some avocado as a pre-run snack.  It was not.  Fats: not good to eat before a run.  Fact: your gut will hate you.  Today it is snowing all over the place in Denver.  It will be a nice walk to work, but no run today, either.  Hopefully tomorrow I can get my stuff together and make it happen.  Otherwise, it will be back in the 50s this weekend, and I still have to get my 10 miles in.

So, life.  This life we live is full of obstacles and setbacks and too often things don't go exactly how we would like them to.  But we are still here, still living and breathing (and coughing?) and running and getting through each day as best as we can.  Which, really, I suppose is all we can ask of ourselves.  So, best of luck to you today.  Like I said, it is a winter wonderland in Denver today, and I am in love with life even though it is so frustrating all of the time.  10 miles will happen eventually.

Less thinking, more running....

Putting the miles between myself and I

I am a survivor.  I am a force to be reckoned with.  I have been broken in so many different places and every one of them has healed stronger than before.  I understand what it means to be truly happy, and I will do whatever it takes to share that understanding with others.  I also understand that those moments of happiness are the exception rather than the rule and must be held onto as gifts distributed sparingly.  I am a runner.  I have spent the past five years not running away but running towards a future full of promise.  I have run so many miles towards this life I now live.

Five years ago today, I was ushered into a cab by two incredulous doctors at the Boston University health center with the directive to go straight to the ER.  They had never before come across a student with such low blood counts.  "What do you mean, you 'walked here'?"  Apparently, I should have passed out weeks earlier.  Thus began my relationship with medical professionals wherein they do a poor job covering their shock at the crazy, awesome anomaly that is my body and my dogged persistence at living.  The second such exchange came a few hours later when an hematologist examined me and exclaimed, "Even your tongue is pale!"  Who knew.  Two days later, on December 8, a wizened and certainly well-meaning older oncologist asked me if I would rather wait for my mother before he told me what was wrong with me.  Thus began my continued frustration with medical professionals and their (mostly) unwittingly treating me like a child.  Anyway, he told me I had leukemia.  So much, then, for life.

Except that absolutely not: I was going to take this cancer thing and deal with it using whatever means necessary.  I had to get back to school; I had so many things to do.  As cliche as it really is, giving up was never an option.  That was five years ago.  Technically, I have been cancer-free for most of those five years.  The chemo worked quickly and thoroughly on my leukemia, though there have been latent side-effects and residual issues as a result of the powerful drugs.  So, still dealing with that nonsense.  At this point though, it is just one more thing; my weekly and monthly doctor's visits are just something I have to do on Tuesdays.  Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind if I am honest and looking straight at it, I am still sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting to hear that this time it actually is cancerous.  But there is absolutely no point in thinking or living that way.  That thought-box is locked and under a pile of essays I wrote in college about Thomas Hardy.  Not something I frequently examine.  (Though I do love Hardy.)

I went for a run today, my first since last Wednesday.  (It's been snowing and super-cold in Denver and I haven't quite psyched myself up to run in those conditions.  Yet.)  But today I ran, and I ran six awesome miles.  It was 15 degrees when I headed out my door, and Denver being the strange weather-freak it is, I was over-heated in about 20 minutes.  Seriously, wearing a Nike cold-gear shirt and a fleece sweater, I was so warm.  I had to take off my gloves.  Anyway, the point of All of this, including my extended build-up, is that I cannot believe the path my life has taken since its abrupt detour five years ago.  I am a barista in Denver, training for a marathon, living with a craigslist-found roommate who has turned out to be a really awesome person and a pretty positive influence in my life here.  I smile Every Time I see the mountains.  Yesterday, walking to work at sunrise, they were snow-capped and glowing salmon-colored.  They remind me that there are things in this world larger and stronger than myself.  I am literally surrounded by mountains in my life and while they are imposing, they are beautiful.  You have to appreciate the beauty while respecting their power.

I ran six miles today like it was nothing.  Myself five years ago couldn't have done that.  Myself five years ago was a naive, young and totally uncertain version of this person I have grown into.  It has taken me So Long to get to this point, and not just chronologically speaking.  The doctors and nurses whose names I'll never remember; the liters of blood drawn and infused; the emotional blocks to healing I had to find a way around and over and through.  The friends who believed in me when I really didn't have any confidence in my own ability to succeed.  Finally, I have reached a point where I feel truly healthy.  Finally, I have reached a place where I am giddy every time I look around, whether in my apartment, in the city or in the mountains.  This life is not without its challenges; cancer is still a large part of my life, but it is so different, so much better.

I have come so far and yet this is all only just beginning.  I cannot wait to see what the new year brings.  In a sense, I am five years old and the whole wide world is open and full of wonder.  Have you ever watched a five year-old?  Their expressions are suffused with excitement and awe at Everything.  Why can't we be like that now?  Why can't we be 25 or 45 or 75 and wondering at the beauty of the world every single day?  I'm pretty sure we can.  So on this, the anniversary of my cancer diagnosis and the day I've run six miles and hung out with amazing people and baked a squash and listened to great jazz, I can only entreat you to look around and smile at what you see.  Five years later, and I can do nothing but smile at where I am and everything I have survived.

Thanks for bearing with me yet again.  Cheers and happy Tuesday...

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.