Last night, Samantha asked me to accompany her to Aqua Zumba. Now, I tend to be a “If you don’t work so hard it hurts, it doesn’t count as a workout” kind of person. (Hence, all the blogging about injuries and overdoing it.) However, because my kid is incredible and I like that she truly enjoys my company, I am generally game for anything she wants to do, provided that I’m not laid out in a flare or absolutely must tend to something else immediately. So I swim suited up and hopped in the pool at Lifetime for some Aqua Zumba.
At no point in this workout (which I am counting as cross training, because I did move my booty for an hour straight) was I out of breath, beyond my comfort zone or pushing any kind of limit. But honestly? Shaking my body alongside my kid and just allowing myself to move without any pressure felt fantastic. I will be attending one of these classes again with Samantha for several reasons.
First, the kinds of women who attend Aqua Zumba crack me up. They tend to either be older and/or overweight, or younger and petite but shy. In either case, they all seem to love who they are and the decision they have made to come to class, even if none of them would feel comfortable moving this way on land. There is a power in being surrounded by women just letting loose.
Second, my daughter is really fun to watch. I have a ballet and modern dance background, so I move very differently in a studio and in the water than she does. My girl is funky. She would be a killer hip hop dancer and will someday turn every head in any club she enters. Her movement is incredible and always has been. It is unique and genuine… plus, she has some serious raw and unharnessed talent. I would attend any movement class with her just to watch her go.
Third, training my body to run a marathon has made it temporarily forget how to move in unrestrained ways. There is absolute power and confidence to be had in moving with direct purpose in a focused and repetitive way. But dancing (or whatever we were honestly doing flailing about in the water) requires a certain dynamic approach and consistent variations. I miss moving my body in these ways.
Aqua Zumba is far from the best workout I’ve ever had. However, it was absolutely a cross training experience worth embracing. Next up… perhaps I will try rock climbing or paddle boarding or trampoline dodge ball. Really, the sky is the limit.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Day Sixty-Three: Anti-Inflammatory Juicing – Part II – Recipes and Resources
Yesterday I wrote a brief introduction on the subject of why I juice regularly. Attempting to explain all benefits of juicing would result in a book, not a blog post. But I would additionally like to provide some quick recipes, an introduction to masticating juicers and a list of starter resources for those who are interested in digging into this subject for themselves. I truly cannot stress how beneficial juicing can be for anyone and especially how beneficial it can be for those with inflammatory conditions and cancer.
I would first suggest that anyone interested in juicing check out Kris Carr’s website. I have previously written about Carr’s efforts to stop the procession of her Stage Four cancer through both medical and natural means. She has lived more than ten years post-diagnosis and is vibrantly bringing her knowledge to the public through her “Crazy Sexy Wellness” revolution. Her introduction to the benefits of juicing can be found here: (http://kriscarr.com/blog/the-benefits-of-juicing/)
Carr has written a juice and smoothie “book” available only through download on her website. There are many juice and smoothie books on the market generally, but given Carr’s knowledge of anti-inflammatory and anti-cancer recipes, I dig hers specifically. In addition to a host of other concoctions, she recommends the daily ingestion of a basic green juice. Nearly every text I’ve read on juicing for anti-inflammatory/anti-cancer health (as opposed to say, weight loss) recommends daily green juicing. I tend to modify either Carr’s “Make Juice Not War” recipe (http://kriscarr.com/recipe/make-juice-not-war-green-drink/) or the “Mean Green” juice recipe advocated by Joe Cross of “Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead” fame (http://myjuicecleanse.com/juicer-recipes/mean-green-juice-recipes/)
In addition to green juicing, I juice straight veggie juices and straight fruit juices (with lots of organic spinach added) in addition to veggie-fruit combos. My latest favorite is a mixture of sweet potatoes, carrots and golden apples. I have discovered that you really need to honor some trial and error when you begin juicing, as fruit sweetness and green bitterness tend to change your palate and tend to morph as any given growing season progresses.
The other primary suggestion I would give aspiring juicers is to do your homework when it comes to purchasing a juicing unit. Given how urgently my care team insisted that I get on the juicing wagon and how critical good juice was going to be for my potential healing, I invested in a really good juicer. After two days worth of juicing homework, I decided to purchase a masticating juicer instead of a centrifugal juicer.
Masticating juicers grind their pulp like teeth do. As a result, the pulp comes out more dry, there is far less waste and the nutritional integrity of the juice lasts for 72 hours instead of the 30 minutes given to juice made by centrifugal juicers. Given that I drink fresh juice several times a day and do not want to be chained to my juicer, this last point was a necessity for me.
To give you an idea of how little waste and how much of the product actually ends up in the juice created by my Omega masticating juicer, I can tell you that after juicing an entire pineapple, a pint of strawberries, two cups of spinach and a cara-cara orange, I only ended up with enough pulp to fill the very center part of the palm of my hand. If you invest in a good unit, the waste is minimal and the juice will be nutritionally dense.
If you are interested in juicing, feel free to bend my ear, check out the website I mentioned or do your own scouting at Barnes and Noble, on the web and on Netflix. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I truly wish you good health and happiness… and juicing might just help you achieve both.
I would first suggest that anyone interested in juicing check out Kris Carr’s website. I have previously written about Carr’s efforts to stop the procession of her Stage Four cancer through both medical and natural means. She has lived more than ten years post-diagnosis and is vibrantly bringing her knowledge to the public through her “Crazy Sexy Wellness” revolution. Her introduction to the benefits of juicing can be found here: (http://kriscarr.com/blog/the-benefits-of-juicing/)
Carr has written a juice and smoothie “book” available only through download on her website. There are many juice and smoothie books on the market generally, but given Carr’s knowledge of anti-inflammatory and anti-cancer recipes, I dig hers specifically. In addition to a host of other concoctions, she recommends the daily ingestion of a basic green juice. Nearly every text I’ve read on juicing for anti-inflammatory/anti-cancer health (as opposed to say, weight loss) recommends daily green juicing. I tend to modify either Carr’s “Make Juice Not War” recipe (http://kriscarr.com/recipe/make-juice-not-war-green-drink/) or the “Mean Green” juice recipe advocated by Joe Cross of “Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead” fame (http://myjuicecleanse.com/juicer-recipes/mean-green-juice-recipes/)
In addition to green juicing, I juice straight veggie juices and straight fruit juices (with lots of organic spinach added) in addition to veggie-fruit combos. My latest favorite is a mixture of sweet potatoes, carrots and golden apples. I have discovered that you really need to honor some trial and error when you begin juicing, as fruit sweetness and green bitterness tend to change your palate and tend to morph as any given growing season progresses.
The other primary suggestion I would give aspiring juicers is to do your homework when it comes to purchasing a juicing unit. Given how urgently my care team insisted that I get on the juicing wagon and how critical good juice was going to be for my potential healing, I invested in a really good juicer. After two days worth of juicing homework, I decided to purchase a masticating juicer instead of a centrifugal juicer.
Masticating juicers grind their pulp like teeth do. As a result, the pulp comes out more dry, there is far less waste and the nutritional integrity of the juice lasts for 72 hours instead of the 30 minutes given to juice made by centrifugal juicers. Given that I drink fresh juice several times a day and do not want to be chained to my juicer, this last point was a necessity for me.
To give you an idea of how little waste and how much of the product actually ends up in the juice created by my Omega masticating juicer, I can tell you that after juicing an entire pineapple, a pint of strawberries, two cups of spinach and a cara-cara orange, I only ended up with enough pulp to fill the very center part of the palm of my hand. If you invest in a good unit, the waste is minimal and the juice will be nutritionally dense.
If you are interested in juicing, feel free to bend my ear, check out the website I mentioned or do your own scouting at Barnes and Noble, on the web and on Netflix. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I truly wish you good health and happiness… and juicing might just help you achieve both.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Day Sixty-Two: Anti-Inflammatory Juicing – Part I – Why I Juice
My good friends Eric and Amanda are thinking about hopping on the juicing train. After discussing my juicing knowledge with them, I decided that others out there might benefit from the relative wisdom I have acquired over the past few months. I am extremely confident that regardless of whether you have an autoimmune condition or are training for an endurance event, you too could benefit from juicing, should this approach interest you. Today I will be discussing my motivations for regular juicing. Tomorrow, I will discuss what kinds of juices I regularly create, different juicing methods and resources for aspiring juicers.
Juicing (and green juicing in particular) was originally introduced to me by my care team. Getting me to eat properly has been quite the feat for some time. Juicing has proven to be a key solution to this problem.
I developed serious eating disorders as a teen. I struggled mightily with bulimia for a few years and (perhaps not so uncommonly) found I could only “cure” my bulimia by developing anorexia for a few years after that. Although a dozen years has passed since either of these conditions has been a presence in my life, I still bear the kinds of scars that inevitably accompany such an experience.
Though I have diligently and actively (and quite successfully) worked to heal the issues that fueled my eating disorders, eating remains a unique challenge for me both because of damage inflicted on my system during my five-year-long battle and because of my current condition. Nevertheless, I feel that it is critically important to develop and sustain excellent eating habits both for my own health and to model for my daughter’s benefit.
However, it has been a challenge for my care team to figure out just how to get me to eat well because in addition to having a severely restricted diet, a nervous and sensitive stomach and an aversion to eating generally, I have became constantly nauseous and have lost my ability to taste almost everything due to my condition.
My autoimmune condition demands that I eat clean, whole foods, gluten-free vegan. This means eating my weight in fruits, veggies, beans, nuts and other incredibly fibrous foods that tend to upset my stomach profoundly. In addition, training requires that I intake a certain number of calories. When my stomach gets upset, I tend to eat less than I should. Training and healing do not jive with failing to eat, failing to eat enough and failing to eat intelligently. Thankfully, juicing solves nearly every issue I have with eating. And as you can see, I have plenty.
Juicing eliminates the need for me to chew my food and have it sit in a ball in my stomach. It is easy to consume and easy to digest. In addition, juicing power packs my nutrient intake. For example, I could not eat an entire head of kale in one day. Doing so would make me feel absolutely terrible. But I regularly drink an entire head of kale in any given day and doing so in a modified form helps to give me energy, stamina and more nutrients than I could ever take in eating all of my fruits and vegetables whole.
Juicing also promotes variety of fruit and vegetable intake, which is fantastic for everyone but is perhaps most valuable for individuals struggling with inflammation, cancer and related health issues. Studies have shown that not only are many of the fruits and vegetables I regularly juice cancer and inflammation fighters, ingesting a variety of these fruits and vegetables at a time often boosts their fighting powers.
As a whole, juicing has been a savior for me and I am confident that it will become even more so as my body (knock on wood) balances out as my medications continue to be adjusted. I look forward to writing more tomorrow about my juicer, kinds of juice and resources for aspiring juicers. Hopefully you now understand why for me personally, juicing is quite the exciting topic.
Juicing (and green juicing in particular) was originally introduced to me by my care team. Getting me to eat properly has been quite the feat for some time. Juicing has proven to be a key solution to this problem.
I developed serious eating disorders as a teen. I struggled mightily with bulimia for a few years and (perhaps not so uncommonly) found I could only “cure” my bulimia by developing anorexia for a few years after that. Although a dozen years has passed since either of these conditions has been a presence in my life, I still bear the kinds of scars that inevitably accompany such an experience.
Though I have diligently and actively (and quite successfully) worked to heal the issues that fueled my eating disorders, eating remains a unique challenge for me both because of damage inflicted on my system during my five-year-long battle and because of my current condition. Nevertheless, I feel that it is critically important to develop and sustain excellent eating habits both for my own health and to model for my daughter’s benefit.
However, it has been a challenge for my care team to figure out just how to get me to eat well because in addition to having a severely restricted diet, a nervous and sensitive stomach and an aversion to eating generally, I have became constantly nauseous and have lost my ability to taste almost everything due to my condition.
My autoimmune condition demands that I eat clean, whole foods, gluten-free vegan. This means eating my weight in fruits, veggies, beans, nuts and other incredibly fibrous foods that tend to upset my stomach profoundly. In addition, training requires that I intake a certain number of calories. When my stomach gets upset, I tend to eat less than I should. Training and healing do not jive with failing to eat, failing to eat enough and failing to eat intelligently. Thankfully, juicing solves nearly every issue I have with eating. And as you can see, I have plenty.
Juicing eliminates the need for me to chew my food and have it sit in a ball in my stomach. It is easy to consume and easy to digest. In addition, juicing power packs my nutrient intake. For example, I could not eat an entire head of kale in one day. Doing so would make me feel absolutely terrible. But I regularly drink an entire head of kale in any given day and doing so in a modified form helps to give me energy, stamina and more nutrients than I could ever take in eating all of my fruits and vegetables whole.
Juicing also promotes variety of fruit and vegetable intake, which is fantastic for everyone but is perhaps most valuable for individuals struggling with inflammation, cancer and related health issues. Studies have shown that not only are many of the fruits and vegetables I regularly juice cancer and inflammation fighters, ingesting a variety of these fruits and vegetables at a time often boosts their fighting powers.
As a whole, juicing has been a savior for me and I am confident that it will become even more so as my body (knock on wood) balances out as my medications continue to be adjusted. I look forward to writing more tomorrow about my juicer, kinds of juice and resources for aspiring juicers. Hopefully you now understand why for me personally, juicing is quite the exciting topic.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Day Fifty-Nine: My Grandmother’s Knitting Needles
It has taken a reminder that not all conditions heal to re-inspire my fight to facilitate my own healing. As the pounds have continued to pack on (The scale now tops 150 folks… you may collectively gasp now), the pain has started to return with a vengeance (finally tapering the Prednisone has its pros and cons) and life has generally just gotten more complicated lately, it has been difficult to consistently engage in every fantastic, inflammation-fighting, life-affirming, healing behavior that I have committed to.
And yet.
Within the last 24 hours, my grandmother was admitted to the memory care nursing facility where she will spend the remainder of her days. She is the only grandmother I have ever known. She was a flawed being, whose personal choices almost certainly contributed to her mental decline. However, I only really ever knew her as someone who loved me.
When I played the stump in my fourth grade production of “The Giving Tree,” she was my family in the audience. Ditto my “Angel Band” performance in kindergarten. My first memory is her financing my very first dance lessons. When I was sent against my will to live halfway across the country as a scared and lonely fifteen-year-old, she financed many double feature movies because she uniquely understood that I could only really feel like myself at that point transported in a dark theater. During my first destitute Christmas in San Francisco, she sent me the smallest living pine tree I’ve ever seen.
The other evening, I was watching an episode of “Top Chef” in which Tom Coliccio admitted that the last thing he wants to eat before he leaves this earth is his mother’s gravy. I feel that way about my grandmother’s. I waited too long to ask for the recipe. When I finally did, her mind was no longer in a place to pass it along.
I have the ability to fight like hell. I have the ability to tackle my autoimmune condition in intentioned, focused ways and to truly have a shot at improving my quality of life and lifespan as a result of those efforts. I can (fingers crossed) heal, to the extent anyone with a chronic condition can. Some wounds do not heal. Which is why it is my honor, privilege and (truly) my duty to heal mine… because I can. She couldn’t and can’t, but I can.
I went to JoAnn Fabric today and bought three colors of yarn. A deep magenta for Samantha, a brighter sage green for me and a Lake Calhoun blue for any other little humans I might ever be mother to that my grandmother ultimately had a hand in creating. I am going to make my grandmother a scarf on knitting needles passed down from her mother. I am making it so that she has something colorful to hold, to look at and to have from those of us who owe our everything in part to her. I am making her a scarf because I honestly do not know what else to do.
Sometimes it takes a powerful reminder to inspire us to do the things we wanted to do all along. I have received mine. And I will be moving forward accordingly.
And yet.
Within the last 24 hours, my grandmother was admitted to the memory care nursing facility where she will spend the remainder of her days. She is the only grandmother I have ever known. She was a flawed being, whose personal choices almost certainly contributed to her mental decline. However, I only really ever knew her as someone who loved me.
When I played the stump in my fourth grade production of “The Giving Tree,” she was my family in the audience. Ditto my “Angel Band” performance in kindergarten. My first memory is her financing my very first dance lessons. When I was sent against my will to live halfway across the country as a scared and lonely fifteen-year-old, she financed many double feature movies because she uniquely understood that I could only really feel like myself at that point transported in a dark theater. During my first destitute Christmas in San Francisco, she sent me the smallest living pine tree I’ve ever seen.
The other evening, I was watching an episode of “Top Chef” in which Tom Coliccio admitted that the last thing he wants to eat before he leaves this earth is his mother’s gravy. I feel that way about my grandmother’s. I waited too long to ask for the recipe. When I finally did, her mind was no longer in a place to pass it along.
I have the ability to fight like hell. I have the ability to tackle my autoimmune condition in intentioned, focused ways and to truly have a shot at improving my quality of life and lifespan as a result of those efforts. I can (fingers crossed) heal, to the extent anyone with a chronic condition can. Some wounds do not heal. Which is why it is my honor, privilege and (truly) my duty to heal mine… because I can. She couldn’t and can’t, but I can.
I went to JoAnn Fabric today and bought three colors of yarn. A deep magenta for Samantha, a brighter sage green for me and a Lake Calhoun blue for any other little humans I might ever be mother to that my grandmother ultimately had a hand in creating. I am going to make my grandmother a scarf on knitting needles passed down from her mother. I am making it so that she has something colorful to hold, to look at and to have from those of us who owe our everything in part to her. I am making her a scarf because I honestly do not know what else to do.
Sometimes it takes a powerful reminder to inspire us to do the things we wanted to do all along. I have received mine. And I will be moving forward accordingly.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Day Fifty-Four: Control
I cannot help it… I love Janet Jackson. From the ages of about 12 to 16, I was a Janet Jackson and Madonna freak. So when Glee covered Janet Jackson’s “Control” a few seasons ago, I put it on repeat for about a week at work. My co-worker Scip (whom I adore, partially because he finds my ridiculous cube dancing and random hysterical laughter as I’m listening to “The Daily Show” to be amusing rather than annoying) chuckled and shook his head at me more than usual that week as I rocked out to that tune over and over again.
What makes this story particularly absurd is that “Control” is not actually a good song. It is actually incredibly naïve, over-simplified and speaks to a worldview that I have long outgrown. However, there is something freeing and empowering about rocking out to the idea that achieving adulthood and embracing freedom leads to an intense amount of control over who you are, what you do and how you get from one place to the next.
Ultimately, control is a complex, nuanced and challenging subject to grasp. My views on control have evolved greatly over the years and continue to morph and flex. While I do sincerely believe that I have a great deal of control over who I am and choose to become, the hows, whats and whys that comprise the details of my journey seem to be greatly within my control one day and are almost completely out of my hands the next.
I assume that many individuals training for great athletic accomplishments and many individuals fighting both autoimmune conditions and other illnesses fixate on the concept of control with startling frequency. Whether it is to train or heal, I constantly battle those forces within my control and those without.
Sometimes, the thought that what I eat, how I move my body, whether I choose to meditate, etc. may ultimately affect my performance or health is empowering. Other times, the fact that these choices “may” help and “may” not is a bit demoralizing. If I eat “perfectly” for a week and a flare debilitates me the next anyway, I either find strength in knowing that I’ve done everything within my power to prevent a worse flare, or I want to throw Tupperware at the wall because my efforts have not resulted in their desired effect.
This kind of struggle can be maddening. But I always was one to pursue this kind of back and forth. When your academic pursuits focus on Eastern Religious Studies and International Human Rights, you tend to get whiplash between focusing on the A to Z of “atrocity” to “zen.” Ultimately, I have some control over my life and in order to live without regret, I must exercise that capacity to the best of my ability through the choices I make, the goals I pursue and the person I live my life as.
The outcomes of my training and my healing may only be partially within my control. But as frustrating as that limiting reality is, it is also an empowering one. And I choose to embrace the latter as much as is humanly possible.
What makes this story particularly absurd is that “Control” is not actually a good song. It is actually incredibly naïve, over-simplified and speaks to a worldview that I have long outgrown. However, there is something freeing and empowering about rocking out to the idea that achieving adulthood and embracing freedom leads to an intense amount of control over who you are, what you do and how you get from one place to the next.
Ultimately, control is a complex, nuanced and challenging subject to grasp. My views on control have evolved greatly over the years and continue to morph and flex. While I do sincerely believe that I have a great deal of control over who I am and choose to become, the hows, whats and whys that comprise the details of my journey seem to be greatly within my control one day and are almost completely out of my hands the next.
I assume that many individuals training for great athletic accomplishments and many individuals fighting both autoimmune conditions and other illnesses fixate on the concept of control with startling frequency. Whether it is to train or heal, I constantly battle those forces within my control and those without.
Sometimes, the thought that what I eat, how I move my body, whether I choose to meditate, etc. may ultimately affect my performance or health is empowering. Other times, the fact that these choices “may” help and “may” not is a bit demoralizing. If I eat “perfectly” for a week and a flare debilitates me the next anyway, I either find strength in knowing that I’ve done everything within my power to prevent a worse flare, or I want to throw Tupperware at the wall because my efforts have not resulted in their desired effect.
This kind of struggle can be maddening. But I always was one to pursue this kind of back and forth. When your academic pursuits focus on Eastern Religious Studies and International Human Rights, you tend to get whiplash between focusing on the A to Z of “atrocity” to “zen.” Ultimately, I have some control over my life and in order to live without regret, I must exercise that capacity to the best of my ability through the choices I make, the goals I pursue and the person I live my life as.
The outcomes of my training and my healing may only be partially within my control. But as frustrating as that limiting reality is, it is also an empowering one. And I choose to embrace the latter as much as is humanly possible.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Day (What?): Samantha is Almost Home!
Forgive me, everyone and forgive me, self. Getting ready for the most wonderful girl in the world to come home plus some crazy and unexpected drama on the home front has left me no time/energy to blog. I would really like to get a blog up by Saturday night and will do my best to ensure that one posts. Thank you for your patience... I will be back soon!
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Day Forty-Eight: Runner’s World – Boston Edition
The day that “Runner’s World” arrives in my mailbox each month is an eagerly anticipated day. Though I enjoy various daily, weekly and monthly publications, “Runner’s World” excites and inspires me uniquely because it speaks directly to the spirit of my training like no other recurring publication does. However, I was a little nervous to receive this month’s issue, as I knew it would be focusing primarily on the events of this year’s Boston Marathon.
I had gone home a little early on that Patriot’s Day because I was in quite a bit of pain and having a hard time staying in my desk chair. I had originally planned to stream live coverage of the marathon onto my laptop to listen to as I did administrative tasks, but I got caught up in writing and did not turn any coverage on until I got home. And in an eerie parallel to what I witnessed on the morning on September 11, 2001, I happened to turn on the television within five minutes of the bombs exploding, when no one yet understood what was happening or what would happen next.
My first thought was “Maggie!” My co-worker and friend Maggie was running Boston that day. I had made a small contribution to her fundraising campaign as she was running to raise money for Dana-Farber. I had asked her earlier in the week if she was ready and/or nervous. She had seemed calm and casual about the impending experience and I remember thinking, “This girl is going to nail it.”
I immediately popped online to my work account to communicate with some of the leadership on our team, unsure if anyone had even yet heard about the bombing in the office and wondering if we knew where Maggie was in the race. I could see from the television that the time clock read “4:09” at the time of the bombing and that Maggie had qualified below that pace. But people cramp up, get exhausted, slow down. My mind took nothing for granted.
Thankfully, we learned over time that speedy Miss Maggie had finished more than 20 minutes ahead of the clock marker and within a few hours an “I’m okay, I promise!” message had popped up on Facebook. I struggled with the concept of how I would have navigated the entire situation both logistically and emotionally in a pre-Internet era.
My second thought was “Amanda!” One of my two best friends grew up near Boston and is a Massachusetts girl to her core. I called her immediately after emailing my co-workers about Maggie. Amanda sounded as shaken as I expected her to be. As any of us would be after seeing our “homes” violated like that. I assured her that I was here for her day or night and that I would check in within an hour or so. I didn’t know what to say beyond that, but because we are as close as we are, I was fairly certain that I had said enough for the moment.
My third thought, which brings me to the present day, was “I want to lace up my shoes and go running.” Boston is the ultimate qualification goal for countless runners. Boston is a rite of passage and an experience to be treasured. The individuals who qualify for Boston are bad-ass, dedicated individuals who deserve to be celebrated. The fact that not only had my homeland been targeted, that the finish-line of an incredible feat had been so unacceptably singled out as a more specific target filled me with a foreign sense of indignation. On that day, I was an American, a friend of a competitor, a friend of a hometown girl and a runner. And somehow, my body’s natural reaction was that the only way I could concretely stick it to the terrorists in that moment was to go running.
I am still not sure if this last response makes sense, but I feel a piece of it every single time I think about that day. Within reading the first piece printed in this month’s “Runner’s World,” I was both crying and itching to lace up my shoes. As runners, we learn everyday most basically to place one foot in front of the other. I still do not know if I have processed Boston fully. But every time I think about that day, I am reminded to do what runners do. I place one foot in front of the other and hope that some of that energy directly flies in the face of what the terrorists were trying to accomplish.
I had gone home a little early on that Patriot’s Day because I was in quite a bit of pain and having a hard time staying in my desk chair. I had originally planned to stream live coverage of the marathon onto my laptop to listen to as I did administrative tasks, but I got caught up in writing and did not turn any coverage on until I got home. And in an eerie parallel to what I witnessed on the morning on September 11, 2001, I happened to turn on the television within five minutes of the bombs exploding, when no one yet understood what was happening or what would happen next.
My first thought was “Maggie!” My co-worker and friend Maggie was running Boston that day. I had made a small contribution to her fundraising campaign as she was running to raise money for Dana-Farber. I had asked her earlier in the week if she was ready and/or nervous. She had seemed calm and casual about the impending experience and I remember thinking, “This girl is going to nail it.”
I immediately popped online to my work account to communicate with some of the leadership on our team, unsure if anyone had even yet heard about the bombing in the office and wondering if we knew where Maggie was in the race. I could see from the television that the time clock read “4:09” at the time of the bombing and that Maggie had qualified below that pace. But people cramp up, get exhausted, slow down. My mind took nothing for granted.
Thankfully, we learned over time that speedy Miss Maggie had finished more than 20 minutes ahead of the clock marker and within a few hours an “I’m okay, I promise!” message had popped up on Facebook. I struggled with the concept of how I would have navigated the entire situation both logistically and emotionally in a pre-Internet era.
My second thought was “Amanda!” One of my two best friends grew up near Boston and is a Massachusetts girl to her core. I called her immediately after emailing my co-workers about Maggie. Amanda sounded as shaken as I expected her to be. As any of us would be after seeing our “homes” violated like that. I assured her that I was here for her day or night and that I would check in within an hour or so. I didn’t know what to say beyond that, but because we are as close as we are, I was fairly certain that I had said enough for the moment.
My third thought, which brings me to the present day, was “I want to lace up my shoes and go running.” Boston is the ultimate qualification goal for countless runners. Boston is a rite of passage and an experience to be treasured. The individuals who qualify for Boston are bad-ass, dedicated individuals who deserve to be celebrated. The fact that not only had my homeland been targeted, that the finish-line of an incredible feat had been so unacceptably singled out as a more specific target filled me with a foreign sense of indignation. On that day, I was an American, a friend of a competitor, a friend of a hometown girl and a runner. And somehow, my body’s natural reaction was that the only way I could concretely stick it to the terrorists in that moment was to go running.
I am still not sure if this last response makes sense, but I feel a piece of it every single time I think about that day. Within reading the first piece printed in this month’s “Runner’s World,” I was both crying and itching to lace up my shoes. As runners, we learn everyday most basically to place one foot in front of the other. I still do not know if I have processed Boston fully. But every time I think about that day, I am reminded to do what runners do. I place one foot in front of the other and hope that some of that energy directly flies in the face of what the terrorists were trying to accomplish.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Day Forty-Five: Keeping Track
I thought that tonight I would share some of the ways that I keep track of both my training and healing journeys, in case anyone out there either has tips on how to improve my systems or may personally benefit from seeing how I approach these two interesting life challenges.
I tend to play with my tracking methods over time in order to figure out what best fits each individual situation. Some approaches are much more graphic, while others are text-based. The ways in which I track everything helping to keep me healthy and sane work for me. But my approaches are always evolving and I am certainly open to additional suggestions on how best to keep everything in order.
When you are training and when you are battling an autoimmune condition, there are a lot of elements in play that you need to stay on top of. Thankfully, I have been borderline compulsively organized since I was a kid, so I have a sense of how to best keep track of every goal, obligation, medical appointment and training session.
I have previously mentioned that my mother was pulled into a parent-teacher conference when I was in first grade because both my teacher and the custodian were becoming concerned about the sheer volume of lists I tended to make. Even as a six-year-old, I was beyond organized and was highly visual in my attempts to remain so. In addition to lists, I made graphs, charts, incentive books, drew activities on my to-do list from hats and often timed myself in the interests of efficiency. I had big goals and I was convinced that organization and sheer will would enable me to achieve them.
So, how do I keep track of my big training goals and healing journey now? Some of what I do includes the following:
1. I track all of my marathon training work broadly on a giant piece of poster board taped to the side of my refrigerator. I currently have 90 days worth of training workouts outlined in a self-made calendar grid. This way, I can see the larger picture of what my training obligations are for the week, month and months ahead at a quick glance. If I am making plans with someone or am just curious about what I need to fit in on a given day, I can do it easily. I then color-code my accomplishments according to type of training completed. (Purple is rest, pink is yoga, orange is cross-training, green is strength training and blue is running-based sessions)
2. I track all of my workouts and training more specifically in a daily workout log book. This allows me to write down distances, speed, challenges faced, reps/weights/sets, notes about certain yoga instructors, etc. in as much detail as I need to inform future training sessions.
3. I track all of my daily nutrition in a small, spiral-bound journal. I record what I eat and when, in addition to how everything ends up making me feel. I also record water intake in ounces and any medication reactions, pain/fatigue flare specifics and other important info here. Because nutrition is such a huge part of my healing, recovery and anti-inflammatory process, this journal may seem neurotic but it is actually quite necessary.
4. I track all my other daily health requirements in a standard school attendance/grading book. Again, this may seem to be a bit much for most people, but when you have to apply warm compresses to your eyes twice daily, take certain eyedrops four times daily, another one before bed, body brush, take different medications four times daily, etc. etc. etc. such gridding becomes necessary. Without my grid, I would either be lazy or would drive myself crazy trying to keep all these obligations straight. With my system, I just have to glance down to see if all the relevant boxes are checked for a given day and I know I’m good to go.
5. I also play little motivational games with charts and puzzles that tend to change with any given goal. For example, during my bar exam studying process, I worked with an electoral map of the United States. For every half hour of studying, I earned an electoral point. Once I earned enough points to “win” a state, I colored it in. Once the entire map was filled, I earned myself a neck pillow. (Which, given how terribly I slept while studying for the bar, I should have purchased prior to starting my studies).
These are just a few of the methods I use to help me stay focused and motivated on my training and healing journeys without becoming too overwhelmed. I actually just earned a point on one of my goal sheets for writing this blog… triumph!
I tend to play with my tracking methods over time in order to figure out what best fits each individual situation. Some approaches are much more graphic, while others are text-based. The ways in which I track everything helping to keep me healthy and sane work for me. But my approaches are always evolving and I am certainly open to additional suggestions on how best to keep everything in order.
When you are training and when you are battling an autoimmune condition, there are a lot of elements in play that you need to stay on top of. Thankfully, I have been borderline compulsively organized since I was a kid, so I have a sense of how to best keep track of every goal, obligation, medical appointment and training session.
I have previously mentioned that my mother was pulled into a parent-teacher conference when I was in first grade because both my teacher and the custodian were becoming concerned about the sheer volume of lists I tended to make. Even as a six-year-old, I was beyond organized and was highly visual in my attempts to remain so. In addition to lists, I made graphs, charts, incentive books, drew activities on my to-do list from hats and often timed myself in the interests of efficiency. I had big goals and I was convinced that organization and sheer will would enable me to achieve them.
So, how do I keep track of my big training goals and healing journey now? Some of what I do includes the following:
1. I track all of my marathon training work broadly on a giant piece of poster board taped to the side of my refrigerator. I currently have 90 days worth of training workouts outlined in a self-made calendar grid. This way, I can see the larger picture of what my training obligations are for the week, month and months ahead at a quick glance. If I am making plans with someone or am just curious about what I need to fit in on a given day, I can do it easily. I then color-code my accomplishments according to type of training completed. (Purple is rest, pink is yoga, orange is cross-training, green is strength training and blue is running-based sessions)
2. I track all of my workouts and training more specifically in a daily workout log book. This allows me to write down distances, speed, challenges faced, reps/weights/sets, notes about certain yoga instructors, etc. in as much detail as I need to inform future training sessions.
3. I track all of my daily nutrition in a small, spiral-bound journal. I record what I eat and when, in addition to how everything ends up making me feel. I also record water intake in ounces and any medication reactions, pain/fatigue flare specifics and other important info here. Because nutrition is such a huge part of my healing, recovery and anti-inflammatory process, this journal may seem neurotic but it is actually quite necessary.
4. I track all my other daily health requirements in a standard school attendance/grading book. Again, this may seem to be a bit much for most people, but when you have to apply warm compresses to your eyes twice daily, take certain eyedrops four times daily, another one before bed, body brush, take different medications four times daily, etc. etc. etc. such gridding becomes necessary. Without my grid, I would either be lazy or would drive myself crazy trying to keep all these obligations straight. With my system, I just have to glance down to see if all the relevant boxes are checked for a given day and I know I’m good to go.
5. I also play little motivational games with charts and puzzles that tend to change with any given goal. For example, during my bar exam studying process, I worked with an electoral map of the United States. For every half hour of studying, I earned an electoral point. Once I earned enough points to “win” a state, I colored it in. Once the entire map was filled, I earned myself a neck pillow. (Which, given how terribly I slept while studying for the bar, I should have purchased prior to starting my studies).
These are just a few of the methods I use to help me stay focused and motivated on my training and healing journeys without becoming too overwhelmed. I actually just earned a point on one of my goal sheets for writing this blog… triumph!
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Day Forty-Three: Holy Shin Splints, Batman!
In addition to a possible hairline fracture in my right foot, I have come down with a nasty case of shin splints as a result of overtraining. Given that I haven’t struggled with this condition since my early days of high school track, I have been compelled to seek out methods of treatment and prevention for this common runner’s issue. If you or someone bad-ass you know ever struggles with this issue similarly, feel free to employ some of the wisdom I have gleaned while researching.
Shin splints are formally known as Tibial Stress Syndrome. They can be temporarily bothersome or can become a fairly chronic problem depending on how one responds to symptoms as they begin to occur. This condition typically results from overtraining, bad form or both. (I may currently be guilty of both.) When hard heel strikes, overpronation, improper mass distribution on impact or other factors compel your legs to absorb too much force too quickly/repeatedly, your shins can develop tiny hairline fractures or your muscles can swell in protest. Both of these responses manifest broadly as shin splints.
The type of treatment you should generally seek depends on what is causing your shin splints. One of Mark’s favorite professors was his saxophone professor Steven Jordheim. He would frequently have Mark play a section of a piece and then simply ask him, “What did you do wrong?” When Mark would outline his mistakes, Professor Jordheim’s response was most frequently, “Well, don’t do that anymore.” “Curing” shin splints should ultimately begin and end with correcting whatever form, training or pronation issue is plaguing you.
I don’t overpronate, but I will be adjusting my training and form as a result of this injury. In the meantime, suggestions for easing the pain include icing the area for 20-30 minutes at a time, four times a day and buying a neoprene sleeve designed to ease shin splint discomfort. Some people use non-prescription anti-inflammatory painkillers, but I personally need to avoid mixing Prednisone and my other meds with even more meds. My blood gets cranky on blood thinners anyway… so I will be toughing the pain out save for ice, rest and perhaps a nifty new neoprene sleeve.
In general, the Mayo Clinic advises that runners avoid the “terrible toos” in order to prevent shin splints. Do not run too fast or too hard for too long. That is a challenging prescription for this over-achiever. But I am truly excited to get back to training sans-injury, so I will certainly do my best to not be the runner’s version of a complete toddler while training.
Shin splints are formally known as Tibial Stress Syndrome. They can be temporarily bothersome or can become a fairly chronic problem depending on how one responds to symptoms as they begin to occur. This condition typically results from overtraining, bad form or both. (I may currently be guilty of both.) When hard heel strikes, overpronation, improper mass distribution on impact or other factors compel your legs to absorb too much force too quickly/repeatedly, your shins can develop tiny hairline fractures or your muscles can swell in protest. Both of these responses manifest broadly as shin splints.
The type of treatment you should generally seek depends on what is causing your shin splints. One of Mark’s favorite professors was his saxophone professor Steven Jordheim. He would frequently have Mark play a section of a piece and then simply ask him, “What did you do wrong?” When Mark would outline his mistakes, Professor Jordheim’s response was most frequently, “Well, don’t do that anymore.” “Curing” shin splints should ultimately begin and end with correcting whatever form, training or pronation issue is plaguing you.
I don’t overpronate, but I will be adjusting my training and form as a result of this injury. In the meantime, suggestions for easing the pain include icing the area for 20-30 minutes at a time, four times a day and buying a neoprene sleeve designed to ease shin splint discomfort. Some people use non-prescription anti-inflammatory painkillers, but I personally need to avoid mixing Prednisone and my other meds with even more meds. My blood gets cranky on blood thinners anyway… so I will be toughing the pain out save for ice, rest and perhaps a nifty new neoprene sleeve.
In general, the Mayo Clinic advises that runners avoid the “terrible toos” in order to prevent shin splints. Do not run too fast or too hard for too long. That is a challenging prescription for this over-achiever. But I am truly excited to get back to training sans-injury, so I will certainly do my best to not be the runner’s version of a complete toddler while training.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Day Forty-One: Pace and Perfectionism Revisited
I have been avoiding my blog for the majority of the week because it has been a rough one and who wants to read a grumpy blog? In essence, I have been struggling with the concepts of pace and of my old frenemy perfectionism. Both may have led me to a possible stress fracture in my right foot. Let me explain…
I now believe that the Prednisone is actually helping to keep my flare-related pain and fatigue somewhat manageable. And for that, I am truly grateful. However, it has made me uncharacteristically impatient and mildly aggressive towards strangers and fellow motorists in particular. I can now understand why individuals who have to take stimulant medication get overwhelmed very quickly. Because on Prednisone, everyone else moves so… damn… slowly.
I find myself suddenly yelling at everyone in Minneapolis who happens to be on the road at the same time I am. (Which I have to find a way to control before Samantha comes home in less than two weeks. Even though every attempt I’ve made to calm down seems to fly out the window the next time a highway driver goes 45 mph in the fast lane, etc.) When I’m at home, I am crazy productive and itching to dig into every training session. But I have become terribly impatient and unkind to myself in the process of being so productive and living at such a fast pace. Because it turns out that the Prednisone is best friends with the false promises of perfectionism.
Despite the fact that the marathon is months away and that I’m still navigating various new medications, have packed on the pounds due to my medications and am recovering from a recent nasty flare, my mind somehow thinks that I need to be able to handle every session in tip-top Ironman shape, form and approach.
I cannot remember a time when I didn’t strive for perfection through the lenses of perfectionism. It has only been in recent years that I understand that perfectionism as a concept is irrational and that rational perfection is relative to any singular goal. The biggest problem with perfectionism is that it is unique as a baseline approach. Not only is “less-than” unacceptable, perfect is the ever-present expectation. For example, a perfect score on a test is not a reason for pride because it is simply what is expected.
I have thus always had a very difficult time taking pride in anything I do. There is always room for judgment unless something is actually executed perfectly. In this case, perfection is the expectation anyway, so why fuss and boast? In recent years I have learned to adjust this approach and move away from this worldview. However, the “aggression and impatience” side-effect of the Prednisone is making me uncharacteristically unkind to myself, impatient with myself and frustrated in general.
In bringing this lack of peace and perspective to my training, I am pretty sure that I have overdone it this week and have injured my foot. Tomorrow is a rest day, so I will reevaluate whether or not I need to go to the doctor to get it checked out after a full day off my foot. In the meantime, my unkind brain is kicking myself for being a moron. Which isn’t helpful.
What is helpful is the knowledge I’ve gained looking back on this past week. I (knock on wood) shouldn’t be on the Prednisone for too many more weeks now that I am also on another intense anti-inflammatory drug used for Lupus. However, my tendencies towards perfectionism, overtraining and self-criticism to a fault may not be triggered by Prednisone alone. And giving into those temptations is a recipe for unhappiness and injury. (Plus, my writing is far more boring when I’m crabby.)
Hopefully from here on out, when I notice myself giving into those old demons I will be able to place them in perspective and make healthier mental and physical choices.
I now believe that the Prednisone is actually helping to keep my flare-related pain and fatigue somewhat manageable. And for that, I am truly grateful. However, it has made me uncharacteristically impatient and mildly aggressive towards strangers and fellow motorists in particular. I can now understand why individuals who have to take stimulant medication get overwhelmed very quickly. Because on Prednisone, everyone else moves so… damn… slowly.
I find myself suddenly yelling at everyone in Minneapolis who happens to be on the road at the same time I am. (Which I have to find a way to control before Samantha comes home in less than two weeks. Even though every attempt I’ve made to calm down seems to fly out the window the next time a highway driver goes 45 mph in the fast lane, etc.) When I’m at home, I am crazy productive and itching to dig into every training session. But I have become terribly impatient and unkind to myself in the process of being so productive and living at such a fast pace. Because it turns out that the Prednisone is best friends with the false promises of perfectionism.
Despite the fact that the marathon is months away and that I’m still navigating various new medications, have packed on the pounds due to my medications and am recovering from a recent nasty flare, my mind somehow thinks that I need to be able to handle every session in tip-top Ironman shape, form and approach.
I cannot remember a time when I didn’t strive for perfection through the lenses of perfectionism. It has only been in recent years that I understand that perfectionism as a concept is irrational and that rational perfection is relative to any singular goal. The biggest problem with perfectionism is that it is unique as a baseline approach. Not only is “less-than” unacceptable, perfect is the ever-present expectation. For example, a perfect score on a test is not a reason for pride because it is simply what is expected.
I have thus always had a very difficult time taking pride in anything I do. There is always room for judgment unless something is actually executed perfectly. In this case, perfection is the expectation anyway, so why fuss and boast? In recent years I have learned to adjust this approach and move away from this worldview. However, the “aggression and impatience” side-effect of the Prednisone is making me uncharacteristically unkind to myself, impatient with myself and frustrated in general.
In bringing this lack of peace and perspective to my training, I am pretty sure that I have overdone it this week and have injured my foot. Tomorrow is a rest day, so I will reevaluate whether or not I need to go to the doctor to get it checked out after a full day off my foot. In the meantime, my unkind brain is kicking myself for being a moron. Which isn’t helpful.
What is helpful is the knowledge I’ve gained looking back on this past week. I (knock on wood) shouldn’t be on the Prednisone for too many more weeks now that I am also on another intense anti-inflammatory drug used for Lupus. However, my tendencies towards perfectionism, overtraining and self-criticism to a fault may not be triggered by Prednisone alone. And giving into those temptations is a recipe for unhappiness and injury. (Plus, my writing is far more boring when I’m crabby.)
Hopefully from here on out, when I notice myself giving into those old demons I will be able to place them in perspective and make healthier mental and physical choices.
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