What a gorgeous morning - both warm and bright! It's the kind of morning where your woolly warm skirt and dark tights seem a bit dowdy and you wonder which shoes should replace your winter boots. Truly fab!
I abandoned all mechanical devices - heart monitors, ipods, apps - and relied upon my knowledge of the route and my regular wristwatch. I have no idea of my precise time, it was the 3m(5k) in about 31/32 minutes. Standard enough, I think. Sometimes, you just need to run, taking the time to let the 'stuff' and 'issues' have a bit of wriggle room.
Speaking of wriggling, I am shifting my timetable around. The long run climbs to eleven miles this week and twelve the week after and, therefore, needs to go to Saturday. It is just too long to get into a work day. I have now left go my second yoga class as a further adjustment of the time scales. I think that training for a marathon and one yoga class is probably more than enough time given to physical fitness, if I want to keep other aspects of life on track. That said, the type of yoga I do is a particularly good complement to the running as it addresses strength, as well as stretching. We do a lot of upper body work which is excellent for these narrow-but-oh-so-tight shoulders while also balncing out the leg work of running! I try to do a few moves on my own time too ... sometimes. I haven't quite settled on a pattern for the earlier part of the week that is, how to get in the two shorter and one medium runs. The distance increases on them too, a mile for each, I think. Work routine will also be unsettled for the coming weeks. As you can see a lot of wriggling! Not to worry, we are well on our way and there is a stretch to the evenings, allowing further wriggle room.
"Well, you will never run a marathon." Etty suffers from ongoing Sarcoidosis which is a chronic inflammatory disease that primarily involves the lungs. Niamh, her sister, likes to run and is going to run the Cork City Marathon on June 6th to raise funds for those suffering from chronic lung diseases. This blog will be a parallel account of their trials and tribulations in the coming months: the would-be marathoner; the mother-of-three moving home and struggling with serious, ongoing Sarcoidosis.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
The Movers Are Coming
Life as I know it will start to change pretty dramatically in the next two hours. The movers are coming! They are on their way up the mountain as I write. It is time for us to pack up our home. The movers will be my companions for the next three days! It will be a humbling experience and a lesson in trust to watch our lives being taken apart bit by bit, packed neatly into boxes, taped securely and labelled.
Movers, can you pack up my memories too? They are so many.... laughter, tears, laboring, birthing, midnight meetings with my babies at my breast, wildfire, evacuate, surprise visits from family, sleeping under the stars, friends holding me up when I couldn't do it for myself, snow, lots and lots of snow, burying the remains of our lost angels under a Shasta daisy, watering that daisy with tears, Little Guy, almost two years old finally taking his first steps, worrying that he never would, doctors, doctors, appointments, hospitals, pills and yet more pills, meals shared with special people around our table, a little girl singing "Mama chase me, come chase me", teaching, classrooms, children, singing, dancing, praying, loving... Treat them gently, pack them carefully, I don't want to lose them~not ever.
Movers, can you pack up my memories too? They are so many.... laughter, tears, laboring, birthing, midnight meetings with my babies at my breast, wildfire, evacuate, surprise visits from family, sleeping under the stars, friends holding me up when I couldn't do it for myself, snow, lots and lots of snow, burying the remains of our lost angels under a Shasta daisy, watering that daisy with tears, Little Guy, almost two years old finally taking his first steps, worrying that he never would, doctors, doctors, appointments, hospitals, pills and yet more pills, meals shared with special people around our table, a little girl singing "Mama chase me, come chase me", teaching, classrooms, children, singing, dancing, praying, loving... Treat them gently, pack them carefully, I don't want to lose them~not ever.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Just ordinary
I'm keeping it simple today. I ran six miles at my average pace of about 6:20k/h. It was a mild day, I remembered to take regular sips of water and am resolved to drink more water throughout the day. I enjoyed being out, though the run was a slight effort. It was ordinary ... not as much of a struggle as yesterday and not such a joy as Friday.
Monday, February 21, 2011
"But You Don't Look Sick"
I have been frustrated by the reduced feeling in my left hand lately and the tremor in my right. I have decided that there is nothing that alarming about either really but trying to type on a keyboard has become a bit of a chore. I am constantly missing keys and hitting the wrong keys, sometimes several at once. This requires constant revising of my text and slows me down. In the past two years I have had several MRIs of the brain and spinal cord, all with the purpose of looking for inflammation or lesions consistent with sarcoidosis. They have all been inconclusive. Several white matter lesions have been found but, I am told, these could be due to normal aging of the brain. The only definitive way to know if they are due to sarcoidosis is to biopsy a lesion but the risks involved in such a procedure far, far outweigh the benefits. After all, I am already being treated, so what would we do differently? So, for now, I have been described as having "peripheral neuropathy, probably due to sarcoidosis involvement". I choose to live with that, refusing any more interventions or scans or offers to do a spinal tap (ugh!). I think that if it ever becomes a major issue that needs more serious intervention then it will become obvious that we need to dig a little deeper.
One of the very, very frustrating aspects of this disease is how difficult it is to diagnose. The symptoms can mimic so many other things. During the early years of the disease process my doctors and I were able to use, among other things, a bloodtest that measures the presence of a certain enzyme, Angiotensin Converting Enzyme (ACE) in the blood to confirm disease activity. It was comforting to me to know that when I wasn't feeling well the bloodtest would reflect that. It helped me to know that it wasn't "all in my head" and I wasn't making it up or looking for attention or all the other things that you have to wrestle with when coping with a chronic disease. It was a nice objective marker. The normal value for such a test is between 7-67. My very first level that helped confirm my initial diagnosis was a whopping 280. Last year the ACE test became less and less reliable dropping down to less than 3 at one point despite some marked disease symptoms. Now it doesn't work for me anymore. Another one of those strange quirks of this disease. My doctor tells me that this tends to happen and noone really understands why. I feel lost without my little ACE crutch though, lost in that sea of always questioning oneself and wondering if my symptoms are real and valid. That can be a very tough place to be, especially when sarcoidosis patients do not always look sick.
I came across a moving video created by the Foundation for Sarcoidosis Research called "But You Don't Look Sick". By the way, that's something I've heard a lot!
One of the very, very frustrating aspects of this disease is how difficult it is to diagnose. The symptoms can mimic so many other things. During the early years of the disease process my doctors and I were able to use, among other things, a bloodtest that measures the presence of a certain enzyme, Angiotensin Converting Enzyme (ACE) in the blood to confirm disease activity. It was comforting to me to know that when I wasn't feeling well the bloodtest would reflect that. It helped me to know that it wasn't "all in my head" and I wasn't making it up or looking for attention or all the other things that you have to wrestle with when coping with a chronic disease. It was a nice objective marker. The normal value for such a test is between 7-67. My very first level that helped confirm my initial diagnosis was a whopping 280. Last year the ACE test became less and less reliable dropping down to less than 3 at one point despite some marked disease symptoms. Now it doesn't work for me anymore. Another one of those strange quirks of this disease. My doctor tells me that this tends to happen and noone really understands why. I feel lost without my little ACE crutch though, lost in that sea of always questioning oneself and wondering if my symptoms are real and valid. That can be a very tough place to be, especially when sarcoidosis patients do not always look sick.
I came across a moving video created by the Foundation for Sarcoidosis Research called "But You Don't Look Sick". By the way, that's something I've heard a lot!
15 Weeks to go: Up-a-day, down-a-day
Another Monday 3m run at a sorry 7:07k/h pace. I hate when I approach 7 minutes for a kilometre, never mind say go over. I know, "a bad run is a done run" but ... sigh, where was all the joy of Friday's pace?
I did not sleep well last night. It took awhile to fall asleep and I never settled into a sound snooze, every now and then some part of my brain insisted that I check the clock. Despite this time-watching I got up late, although I had a good breakfast. I managed to burn the pine nuts, which I wanted to put into my prepared lunch salad, upsetting the cat and probably the neighbours with the fire alarm. Now the point of this is, of course, who toasts pine nuts at 7:00 in the morning on a work day? That is a far too ambitious project, I think, and indicative of bad judgment brought on by tiredness. My weekend was busy and festive, prompting me to consider its relationship to this morning's effort. I am a bit surprised that giving up the 'grog' is such a deal for me, but I love to settle down with friends and loved ones over a bottle of wine. It really loosens me out and marks off the weekend. I am loath to make a definitive announcement here, but I know that I am on the verge of letting it go for the duration of the training period. Except my birthday and maybe Easter .. hmm, see, what I mean?
The morning was mild, although dull. The traffic was quiet because schools are on mid-term break, I still took a sneaky break at the traffic lights though, when I could easily and safely have skipped across. And I confess, for the first time on this campaign, I walked a bit. It was up the little hill to Deer Park, but I just hadn't the pep. I was glad at the end of my run, for more reasons than one, to see the campus Sports Centre. An odd start to the running week, I wasn't cranky, was happy to be out, but the body was in another space!
I did not sleep well last night. It took awhile to fall asleep and I never settled into a sound snooze, every now and then some part of my brain insisted that I check the clock. Despite this time-watching I got up late, although I had a good breakfast. I managed to burn the pine nuts, which I wanted to put into my prepared lunch salad, upsetting the cat and probably the neighbours with the fire alarm. Now the point of this is, of course, who toasts pine nuts at 7:00 in the morning on a work day? That is a far too ambitious project, I think, and indicative of bad judgment brought on by tiredness. My weekend was busy and festive, prompting me to consider its relationship to this morning's effort. I am a bit surprised that giving up the 'grog' is such a deal for me, but I love to settle down with friends and loved ones over a bottle of wine. It really loosens me out and marks off the weekend. I am loath to make a definitive announcement here, but I know that I am on the verge of letting it go for the duration of the training period. Except my birthday and maybe Easter .. hmm, see, what I mean?
The morning was mild, although dull. The traffic was quiet because schools are on mid-term break, I still took a sneaky break at the traffic lights though, when I could easily and safely have skipped across. And I confess, for the first time on this campaign, I walked a bit. It was up the little hill to Deer Park, but I just hadn't the pep. I was glad at the end of my run, for more reasons than one, to see the campus Sports Centre. An odd start to the running week, I wasn't cranky, was happy to be out, but the body was in another space!
Sunday, February 20, 2011
One step and two ...
I really enjoyed Friday's long run. It was one of the easier weeks that Higdon builds into the eighteen-week programme and so I only had to do six miles. I just relaxed and sort of 'played' my way through it, allowing myself some long striding and a bit of speed from time to time. The end result was an average speed of 5:40k/h which was good. I enjoy those kind of speeds, but am not professional enough to guarantee that they can be produced at will on the day of the events.
Sometimes on my run, as you have read by now, I like to listen to music. The selection is usually a fairly random process. Friday was no exception. Scanning through the list of albums on my player, I came across A Woman's Heart Ten Years On. Attracted by the variety of artists, songs and rhythms I decided to opt for this album. Both Black sisters are there (Frances and Mary), Sinéad O'Connor, Mary Coughlan, Maura O'Connell and even guest singer, Dolly Parton, as well as other well-established Irish artists. What is funny though, is the way in which I begin to change pace or step according to the rhythm of a particular song. The chorus of one song in particular, Carrick-a-rede sung by Cathy Ryan, made me want to bounce a bit more than usual:
"One Step and two hold tight, let go.
Twenty and four, hold tight, let go."
As the words of the chorus came home, I was sure the song was about a dance and I imagined a group of set dancers stepping in and out of a square formation, whirling and twirling in rhythm. I was also reminded of my sister's latest post. Then, the next words came in,
"I'm nearly there, let go, let go"
and the song seemed to speak to me, the runner, as I faced into a straight stretch with my finish in view. For a moment or two, the dance with Sarcoidosis, it's devilish hold, the hope it will 'let go' and my own training and striding were all apiece.
"One step and two, hold tight, let go."
Later in the car, I listened to the words more carefully and the song is clearly about a journey, a girl travelling to her lover. It took a bit of 'google research' to realise that the song is, in fact, about a girl fearfully crossing a rope bridge to a tiny island in the Northern part of Ireland where her fisherman boyfriend works. Aware of the fragility of the structure between her and the crashing sea below, she is coaxing herself through her ordeal, counting her steps and anticipating the joy of reunion.
"We will tell our stories, love
And sing our songs out, every note.
One step and two, hold tight, let go."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N70lL35Ewsw
Sometimes on my run, as you have read by now, I like to listen to music. The selection is usually a fairly random process. Friday was no exception. Scanning through the list of albums on my player, I came across A Woman's Heart Ten Years On. Attracted by the variety of artists, songs and rhythms I decided to opt for this album. Both Black sisters are there (Frances and Mary), Sinéad O'Connor, Mary Coughlan, Maura O'Connell and even guest singer, Dolly Parton, as well as other well-established Irish artists. What is funny though, is the way in which I begin to change pace or step according to the rhythm of a particular song. The chorus of one song in particular, Carrick-a-rede sung by Cathy Ryan, made me want to bounce a bit more than usual:
"One Step and two hold tight, let go.
Twenty and four, hold tight, let go."
As the words of the chorus came home, I was sure the song was about a dance and I imagined a group of set dancers stepping in and out of a square formation, whirling and twirling in rhythm. I was also reminded of my sister's latest post. Then, the next words came in,
"I'm nearly there, let go, let go"
and the song seemed to speak to me, the runner, as I faced into a straight stretch with my finish in view. For a moment or two, the dance with Sarcoidosis, it's devilish hold, the hope it will 'let go' and my own training and striding were all apiece.
"One step and two, hold tight, let go."
Later in the car, I listened to the words more carefully and the song is clearly about a journey, a girl travelling to her lover. It took a bit of 'google research' to realise that the song is, in fact, about a girl fearfully crossing a rope bridge to a tiny island in the Northern part of Ireland where her fisherman boyfriend works. Aware of the fragility of the structure between her and the crashing sea below, she is coaxing herself through her ordeal, counting her steps and anticipating the joy of reunion.
"We will tell our stories, love
And sing our songs out, every note.
One step and two, hold tight, let go."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N70lL35Ewsw
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