Long (Island) Weekend

I took three days to relax. I don't feel perfectly normal yet, but I feel much better, am thinking less, and liking the trend.

We spent the long weekend on Long Island, playing in the pool and on the beaches. Every time I felt a little something, I talked myself down from escalating anxiety, took four slow deep breaths, and reminded myself that relaxing actually was productive. Aside from stopping the suspect med, I wasn't sure how to wait out its exit from my system.

Both stress and too much exposure to sunlight are known to exacerbate lupus in some people. As someone who was called Snow White as a child, I've always been careful about the sun, but I became slightly obsessive about sun protection once I learned of the lupus connection. I've never noticed a connection between sun exposure and lupus activity in my body, though, but I am positive about the powerful calm I get from being in the water and at the beach. I decided it was worth it to do the weekend water baby style- just slathered in sun screen and under a hat.

Friday afternoon, I swam some easy laps in the pool, and laughed a lot. As the afternoon cooled off, I threw on running clothes and jogged very easily for half an hour, the limit I had set for myself upon starting out. It felt a bit stiff at first, but better after 20 minutes or so. It's a throw away workout of a throw away training week, but it was terrific emotionally.

Saturday was a full beach day spent running back and forth between the towel and the ice bucket of an ocean. I couldn't help myself from running down into the ocean or back out, squealing. I felt so exhilarated to be doing little sprints for fun without ankle pain in the sand. Collapsing on the warm blanket, my relief far surpassed escaping the frigid water. Lying on my back, hearing my people laughing, and breathing in the straw hat warmed in the sun over my face, I wondered where I would be now had the last decade gone differently.

Had things not lined up well for me, would I have been at the right place at the right time to make everything that makes me happy now happen? These are the people that I've realized will be here and making me happy no matter how things line up now. It's something I've never wanted to test, so I deeply appreciate the emphatic, reassuring words I've been hit over the head with.

That question also makes me feel like I have to be fine; finer tomorrow than I am today, and taking this all for granted again in a week or two from now.

Warehoused

[I wrote this on Wednesday and fortunately paused for a moment to think I should give a warning to at least my parents and boyfriend before posting it. I want to share how my life is influenced by lupus, but I also would like to refrain from simultaneously scaring inner circle people and insulting them by not communicating directly. This whole communicating about this facet of my life thing is new, and I've found that, in general, the ease with which I can speak openly about lupus is inversely related to how well I know the listener and how much I think they care.]

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I was going to follow up the previous post with one called "No More Stairs." My knees hurt after that run early in the week. I worried that I might be running too much, too fast. The problem with that theory is that it's not so much yet, really. Maybe I was just one of those people who can't run. I've spent the last couple days getting increasingly nervous that runner's knee was going to keep me from serious training, much less the marathon. I was worried that I wouldn't get to keep running as an integral part of my days, be able to start training with the team, would have to find a way to gracefully exit both the marathon and the blog, and would have to hold myself back from over-explaining how I really did try my best and did not quit quit, and how that not quitting quitting had nothing to do with lupus. (See, look at me! Lupus doesn't have to get in your way!)

 

Nerves turned into just-repressed panic last night when I felt pain on the balls of my feet and right where my fingers attach to my hands. The very early start of a lupus flare. I've had this before, once when I tried to wean myself off the medication that keeps my immune system at normal levels (as everyone with half a brain who is not an angry teenager knows, don't do this except under doctor's supervision). At that time, I was convinced it was the beginning of the rest of my life lived in a flare. It wasn't. I went back to taking a normal dose and was good as appropriately medicated new.

 

This time, I'm 90% sure I know the cause. I believe it's a reaction to a pretty non-serious medication that I haven't been on long and don't need to be taking. I should be able to discontinue it (after talking to my doc) starting tomorrow, and, (purely) intellectually, I believe I'll go back to my normal. But I have felt my heart in my chest all day and my skin feels hot from the stress.

 

Once tomorrow morning rolls around and I actively skip that pill, I know I'll feel more in control of the situation. I hope and think I should feel normal in a couple days and plan to run and play in the sunshine over the long weekend.

 

Yet another reason why raising awareness and research dollars is so important-- With more research, doctors will know more about what causes and influences lupus, and treat patients in a way that minimizes the risk of these complications.

 

For now, cross your fingers. I need to work and pretend this hasn't scared the shit out of me.

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* Update: I stopped the suspect medication. Snotty face and tears, head resting in a lap, and half a bag of chocolate chips at midnight later, I'm doing okay. Hands feel much better and the feet are almost there. Hope to report normalcy in the next day or so.

Short and Speedy

Thirty minutes is a short one for me now, short enough that I'm greeted with a "back so soon?" when I walk in the door.

10 minutes running, 10 minutes of racing up stairs, and 10 more flat minutes to finish it off. It's the coolest it's been in quite a while, but I was dripping sweat half way through the stairs.

I'm trying to build in a bit of speed and hill work, but haven't a clue what I'm doing or how to incorporate these kinds of training intelligently when a marathon is the ultimate goal. I'll have to read up on what Galloway says.

I exerted myself enough, though, that as I ran, beet red, the last few blocks to my apartment, a man on a stoop wearing a Jamaican flag hat nodded and said "good for you."

Sugar at the End of the Tunnel

Dirt is my friend. Gravel is okay, too. Running in the road for more than half an hour is just jarring. Each strike of the asphalt reverberates up my leg and mini-slams my knees. Even my back feels the stiffness on landing; a bit like jumping off something a tad too high and hitting the ground without remembering to bend your knees at the right moment.

The bridle trail is the best dirt. There's the reservoir loop and winding, weaving in and out of the shade of the trees. The bottom half of it is usually fairly empty- probably because it doesn't lead anywhere (meaning: in, out, or to a pond or meadow). It's quiet and peaceful, and feels like it's for runners.

I like the tunnels, too, the underneaths of the foot bridges. They're darker than they seem like they should be, given the openness on each end, and cool. They smell like earth and, running through, the dampness gives me goosebumps on my arms. It should be a little creepy, but it isn't. Entering from the bright sunshine yesterday morning, sun spots blocked my ability to see the dark ground in front of me, which was almost disorienting. It's happened before in the tunnels, and I have to shift my gaze from the ground about ten feet ahead of me to the horizon. Otherwise, I misstep the way I do when I think there's one stair more than there actually is at the bottom of a flight.

Soon after the tunnel at the bottom of the bridle trail, I caught up with the man I had tried to set my pace to in the beginning. He was wearing a tshirt from a race, and as I caught up, I could finally read the sponsor's name on the back, Entenmann's. As in donuts. Chutzpah in sponsorship. Go figure.

As much as I looove Entenmann's chocolate glazed cake donuts, I stuck to something lighter. I snacked on fruit leather and Gatorade during the actual (80 minute) run because my stomach needs some practice digesting and running at the same time. So far, so good on that front. I've been able to avoid the side cramps by ingesting a bit at a time during the one minute of ten that I walk. I think the constant little stream of sugar and water keeps my energy level more stable. The fruit leather is not so easy to eat though, so I'm moving on to fruit snacks.

All in all, I felt good and rather proud of myself. That is, until an email from my father telling me he had a nice 12 (12!) mile run. Still works for me though-- discipline goes well with a side of luck, and I'll take those genes.

I'll Do (Almost) Anything for a T-Shirt

One of the things I never appreciated about living in the city is the amazing number of local races that are a piece of cake to sign up for. I officially got my marathon registration number today and paid for entrance to the race. At checkout I took them up on the option of joining New York Road Runners, mostly for the discount on running shoes. Turns out NYRR puts on tons of races, many of which sound fun and cover unintimidating distances.

Does anyone want to run one of these with me? Keep in mind that although I've bitten off a lot with this whole marathon thing, I'm sloooow and have no desire to 'race' these. I just want to get a little experience at racing events, and these look like a fun way to get my weekend runs in! Of course, I'm also hoping for some event t-shirts.

This one celebrates Japanese culture and is only four miles. They must throw in some gyoza, right? right?:
http://www.nyrr.org/races/2010/r0606x00.asp

This one's longer (a 10k), but looks like a very cool women's race. A pregnant Paula Radcliffe and Kara Goucher are the special guests (and will be running, but not racing). http://www.nyrr.org/races/2010/mini/story1.asp

Both courses go through and around the park.  Want to play with me? Please.... I'll talk your ear off and the time will fly. Promise.

Hit and Run

Some songs I listen to for the beat, for a rhythm that's almost impossible not to match with my strides. Others are just happy- think 60's classics and 80's silly pop. But a few transport me. This morning it was Paula Abdul's 'Straight Up'. In first or second grade, all the girls in my class spent our free time choreographing a dance production to our collective favorite song (this was a time when we also had a collective crush, which we decided upon after a debate in the bathroom, and a shared obsession with hair wraps). A few girls, the official singers, learned all the words, but the rest of us just piped in for the chorus, and especially the oh oh ohs.

Straight up now tell me
Do you really want to love me forever oh oh oh
Or am I caught in a hit and run
Straight up now tell me
Is it gonna be you and me together oh oh oh
Are you just having fun

Brilliant choreography. We pointed up for the 'straight up,' pointed to ourselves for the 'me,' and shook our straight pint sized hips with attitude for the belted 'oh oh oh'. I don't remember ever sharing this production with anyone not participating in it. I do remember feeling energized by it, and some exaggerated huffing and puffing as we collapsed on the carpeted classroom floor at the end.

This is when I'm happiest; when I'm active without realizing it, because I'm on my way somewhere or I'm playing or I'm thinking. It's my 20 minute walk to work each morning and evening. A little window for people watching, and time to myself or to catch up with a call to my mom. It's a bike ride on a pretty day when it's more about the food you're going to pick up on the way than getting a workout.

It's also how I feel when I'm running, get lost in a song or a thought, forget to turn off the dirt path, and end up on a second reservoir loop. Another full hour morning run :)

Giving in to (Diet) Coke Addiction

I didn't sleep well and ended up skipping the run I had planned to take this morning. The luxury of starting all of this so early is that in this pre- real training stage, I don't have to be so strict. I also don't have to feel guilty. And I don't feel guilty on mornings I don't follow through with the plan, but I feel a bit sad about the missed opportunity. I spend the day thinking about how good my legs and lungs would be feeing had I started my day with exertion and dew, and gotten the mild high that hits me suddenly at the 23 minute mark and lingers through the afternoon.

Tomorrow is something to look forward to though, and not just because it's Thursday. A friend has put together a 90 minute music mix for me, and I can't wait to run as the tracks unfold.

For today though, the trick is not to let the missed workout bother me and push me slowly off the do-everything-healthy wagon. I've stuck to the healthy eating, but in the battle of Kate versus the delicious, addictive toxins that can cause migraines, the score is Kate-0, Diet Coke-1. Cross your fingers for your stupid, weak friend.