Updates and Lessons Learned

Well, internet friends, a blog post has been way overdue. I could waste your time writing pithy paragraphs detailing the myriad of reasons why I have been absent. But, frankly, it boils down to the fact that my heart was not in it. I would read these amazing posts and feel inspired to write, but then the rhythm of life would drone on an on and I would mindlessly join in going through my daily motions.

Since I have been gone, several notable things have occurred.

First ~ I did get my sunny yellow card that stated all was well with the samples from my mole colony. I initially felt pretty good about receiving the card until my follow up appointment for my perpetually chapped nose in which the “no friend of mine” dermatologist told me that the results on my moles were actually inconclusive, but the surrounding tissue they biopsied was fine…..and I should really come in every 6 months for another butchering checkup. I guess on a positive note, I should mention that my nose is finally cleared up after I got to treat it with a steroid. Unfortunately, it was just a topical steroid – (Just kidding!)

Second ~ School is out for the summer. Now, those without children probably do not think this is notable, but now I am on as entertainment, referee, chauffeur, cook, maid, and social director 24/7. In addition to making it nearly impossible for me to double up training days unless I make friends with my bike trainer (and during the summer months that is just cruel and unusual punishment), I cannot manage to keep the house somewhat clean or the refrigerator stocked with enough fruits and vegetables. Who knew that my children could finish of an entire seedless watermelon in one day or consume a large bag of baby carrots in a “15 minute snack”? One day you are going to see a story on national news about a mother going ape-crazy after she was asked for the millionth time what was for breakfast/lunch/dinner? The news stream will show four children will sad faces and empty dinner plates while in the background I will be curled up in a fetal position rocking back and forth muttering “No, you cannot have a snack. We just had lunch. Dinner is after lunch and we have not had lunch yet. Dinner will be at 6:30 like it always is. No it is not 6:30 yet…….” Or something in that genre.

Finally ~I did my first race of the season. Kansas 70.3. It was not good. If you want a really good report visit here and I could not be happier for her. My race was not that race. I will give you the Cliff Notes Version of my race.

1. Left Thursday night. Kids Sobbed. Capt'n D stuck to my leg like glue. Needed to be peeled off. Drove away with tear stained faces burned into my memory. Guilt.
2. Got up really early Friday. Drove 10+ hours. Arrived in Death Valley with humidity (Kansas). Ran 40 minutes. Became dehydrated. Knew I was in trouble. Enjoyed good food and even better company. Called home. Capt'n D covered in hives. No I Son knocked the wind out of himself at the babysitter's. Cheese fell off bike and scraped knee. Guilt.
   
3. Slept in on Saturday. Enjoyed delicious breakfast. Facebook chat revealed hives were gone. Informed that Mr. Spie had big presentation next week and kids needed to go with him to office for couple of hours. Guilt. Got lost (as always) going to race site. Perspired profusely. Drive bike course. Panicked. Got lost going to hotel. Went to bed. Death Valley 90 degrees. Wisconsin 58 degrees (at 10 o’clock at night)
4. Race Day. Got up early. Drove to race site without incident. Chose not to bring wetsuit. Swim suddenly wetsuit legal (water temperature suspiciously dropped from 81 to 77.5 degrees overnight – must have dumped in a lot of ice!). One of a handful without wetsuits. Swam slow. Biked lots of hills. Wore out ¾ of the way through the bike. Began to realize I am in trouble. Cannot run. Cramping. Drink Gatorade and water at every water station. Run/walk course. Kindness of strangers garnered me a salt tablets and a 20 minutes later a little more pep in my step. Finished. Disappointment. Drank lots. Did not go potty until 4 hours and multiple drinks after the race. Called home. Swiss Miss has stomach flu. Guilt.
   
5. Monday. Got up early. Drove home. Arrived home to a more pleasurable climate. Capt’n D has stomach flu. Spie will never be able to go away for four days alone ever again. Guilt.

Please kind reader, do not draw the conclusion that I regret ever doing this race. I had a wonderful time with my friends and their wonderful kind family. I have the memory of Chrissy Wellington giving me my medal and I uncovered some serious flaws in my nutrition. I also learned that I really am a "Northern climate" girl.

And, although I am filled with guilt every time I leave my brood, I know that my children are also learning many things during my away races. They learn that people, even parents, are multifaceted. They know that I have many interests and passions and sometimes one interest takes me away for a bit, but that does not mean that my other interests (No I Son, Swiss Miss, Cheese, and Capt'n D) have dropped in the rankings. My kids also learn about training hard for a goal, taking risks, and disappointment. They also learn how to dust themselves off, learn from their mistakes, and to continue looking forward rather than back.

But, I keep hoping that the biggest lesson they learn when I travel for my races is that Mr. Spie is actually capable of taking care of their needs too!

Shielding myself from the brighter side

I am once again brushing myself off after being knocked down by a bully in this playground called life.

I have to admit that I am getting a bit tired of receiving life’s jabs.

Similar to the way I discovered I have scoliosis, my latest altercation occurred much by accident and was brought on by a bit of vanity on my part.

For several months, I have had red, raw, flaky, and basically unattractive skin under and surrounding my nose. I look like I have had a cold for the past 4 months.

I have had similar issues with my skin decades ago when I was in college. I initially thought that the stress of my brief employment caused the dreaded dermatitis from my college days to appear once again. After two months of unemployed bliss, my rash remained and I decided it was time for some action.

I made an appointment with a dermatologist.

When I made the appointment, I explained my vanity issue and I also stated that I would like a skin check as I enjoy being outdoors, sometimes miss spots with the sunscreen, and as I am a Dalmatian (quite pale and covered with spots: freckles and moles), I realize the importance of yearly mole checks.

Due to the secondary reason of my visit, I got to meet the dermatologist dressed fashionably in a paper gown which is always a good start to an appointment.

The discussion about my face was quick and succinct and involved a really “cool” pocket magnifying glass. She didn’t think it was the dreaded disease of the past, but a new “high likelihood of reoccurring” disease that will be cured in a matter of weeks when I use the “very expensive not covered by my insurance as my diagnosis is considered a purely cosmetic issue” cream.

As we discussed the treatment of my perpetual “cold” face, the doctor began the skin check. I felt it was going rather well as she made it through my scalp and face rather quickly.

Then, as it went south, it all went south.

The doctor had to leave the room to get her skin marker -the one that is used to circle/mark suspicious spots. Then, copious use of the “not so cool now” magnifying glass began. After I was all scanned and done, there were three moles, according to the doctor, that were no longer welcome to reside on my body ~ two on my back, one on my abdomen two inches lower than my bellybutton – a place the sun has never kissed.

These moles, while they were not displaying all the traits of the really bad kind of moles, you know "gang" moles; they were not cute and cuddly. They were somewhat in-between ~kind of like ferrets.

Quick as a wink, I am signing consent for biopsy forms and filling out a sunny yellow (how ironic is that?) postcard that will be sent to me in 10 to 12 days if moles are in fact cute and cuddly and just looked tough. My spots were named and numbed. Razor blades were drawn. Skin was cauterized and my rogue moles were put in vials to be whisked away to the lab. Minutes later, as I am inhaling the scent of my burned skin, I am clinically bandaged, told not to swim until the biopsy sites are healed (approximately a week), and sent on home……. to wait.

Now that I have actually time to process what happened, I am a bit scared.

I am using much restraint to not don sweatpants and dive headfirst into pints of Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby and eat myself into a comfort induced coma.

Although, I did indulge a bit after my appointment and wore sweatpants the next day as jeans irritate my new second navel. I promise those behaviors are not the norm.

Mr. Spie kindly tells me that “Everything Will Be Alright”, but I really don’t need a reggae song, I really need a statistician as odds will be more comforting to me than crooning.

As this story ends, I, once again, have extra time to think as I am not able to complete all my workouts.

And because every story must have a happy ending, in my free time I have come up with a list of "positives"

1. Not swimming is better for the treatment of my face and my face is looking better -- perhaps it is because I am putting something that costs more than gold on it.


2. No doubled up workout days for a while means more sleep.


3. I am lighter now.


4. Parts of me are newer.


5. I now will not have to deal with the pressure of being a swimsuit model.

In the meantime, I wait. In addition to coming up with more positives, I am going to work on keeping my sunny* disposition and lose myself in the rhythm of everyday life or perhaps, Bob Marley.

*but not too sunny as we have learned, too much sun is not a good thing.

Sweet Relief and a cruise (or two or three)

This past week I finally have returned to running. My mechanic/chiropractor (probably be-grudgingly) gave me the thumbs up to take the body out for a spin (run) this week while she is on vacation. (Her vacation = my sweet relief). I promised not to go crazy and drag race. She said that it probably would feel weird, like I was driving another person's vehicle.

All during the time I have been visiting her, I have to admit I have been still a skeptic. How is it possible that she is moving my spine with the little "pinger" gun? With each of my attempts (two) to solve my pain the rear problem, I decided that I would trust and follow the rules for the initial course of treatment. My initial chiropractic plan was for a month of treatment. I would give it a month and re-evaluate.

On Thursday of last week, I finally broke out the Asics and took them for a spin. During the midst of my euphoria I realized two things.

1. My gait is different. It feels weird. Perhaps the doctor really was moving my spine with each "ping".

2. I don't have the pain in my rear. I DON'T HAVE THE PAIN IN MY REAR!

My gait is truly different and I have been working on building my base and getting accustomed to the new gait. I land, roll, and push off on a different part of my foot now. Soon, I am going to have my gait reanalyzed to make sure that I still am wearing appropriate shoes as I would hate to be sidelined with another injury.

Each time I think about realization #2, I tear up a little. It has been at least 8 months since I have run without pain in my rear. It was a running companion that I did not want to have. This is not to say that I am not running pain free, as new muscles are being recruited during my runs and they, frankly, do not like being awoken from their slumber.

Although I realize that my body work is not quite done, I am happy that my mechanic lets me take her out for a spin every once in a while and with each mile I log and each hour spent in the body shop, I know that I am moving closer to my destination. (with undoubtedly some stops for baked goods on the way -- you know, for fuel!)

No Longer Under Warranty

I fear that I am no longer operating under warranty. I know that I have well exceeded my 100,000 miles. My everyday vehicle is showing signs of wear and it is very frustrating.

I am the first to admit that I probably haven’t been as diligent as I should have with my preventative maintenance. Sure, I went to the mechanic when it was acting up, but as for regular oil changes, tire rotation, and the other things that race cars need…Well, I must admit I did not follow the standard maintenance procedures. I have spent many years just testing the limits and pushing the gears, not really concerned about possible wear and tear down the road.

Perhaps, that is why I am having problems today. I have been having the various knocks and bumps checked out when I put my vehicle through its paces, but never considered that something structural was the cause of my performance issues. Here I was just hoping to get a wheel alignment and now, as my previous post has revealed, I have just discovered that my frame is bent.

There really is no option to trade it for a newer model, and frankly I wouldn’t want to. It has too many memories attached to it. I know the story for every ding and scratch. It has carried four passengers safely to their destination. It is worn and comfortable, and up until as of late, quite predictable.

I have spent two weeks being angry at my vehicle. Upset that it has some serious structural damage and frustrated that I have been asked to not take it around the track for a while. I have been irritated that this imperfection had been hidden from me and annoyed at the problems that my bent frame has caused.

As my mechanic diligently works to minimize any performance issues due to my structural problems (as the frame cannot be completely straightened), I am cross. I can no longer function comfortably in my vehicle. It no longer feels like it fits. The contentment is gone and when it left, it took my power with it leaving me with a misfiring engine which is no longer able to produce the power it was just a mere two weeks ago.

I started to rue the day that I even took it to the mechanic. Friends, relatives, and my mechanic have assured me that my vehicle, although it still will have a bent frame, will run better than before. It will be more fuel efficient and my power will return. Perhaps it will even be faster. But, lately, I have started to doubt as I travel through each day which a vehicle that stutters and stops, lurches and sways.

Then today, I decided to look at my vehicle with a different perspective. Rather than viewing that it has let me down. I am starting to realize that perhaps it is the exact opposite.

My vehicle, which frame was bent more than 20 years ago, has worked hard compensating, dare I even say masking, its structural problem. I have run it through college competitive swimming, mountain biking and road biking, hiking, running, canoeing, white water rafting, and last and most importantly, carried precious cargo four separate times without any hesitancy.

More often than not, it has exceeded my expectations with its performance in race situations. It still fired when it is running low on fuel and the engine is overheating. It delivered all that I have asked of it and more.

The frame, although it is not straight, it is the same bent frame that has done all of the wonderful things in the past and with a little TLC and some rebuilding, it will continue to race through life. It can and will race because the engine and computer are not damaged ~because it is me.

throwing me a S-curve ball

As you loyal readers know I have been fighting a running injury for several months now.

It, literally, is a pain in my butt.

It “reared” its ugly head sometime in June and has been my constant running companion ever since.

It is not good company.

At its worst, it would linger on days that I did not run and cause me discomfort in my everyday tasks such as driving, climbing stairs, and standing still. On its good days, I would feel pain and tightness when I ran, especially speed work and hills, but would not be felt at any other time.

When the bad times started to exceed the good and it became my “off” season, I finally decided that enough was enough and medical attention was sought.

I contacted a physical therapist with the hopes that a little time off, stretching, and therapy would heal all my woes.

Progress was slow at first as I am not a very patient person. I stopped running for an agonizing 6 weeks in hopes that time off and attention would heal my wounds. I did all of the stretches assigned and the exercises requested. I was more diligent about my recovery than dressing my children in clean clothes for school. I was sure this prescription work and I could pick up right where I left off.

Soon the 2010 season was upon me and training needed to start, so I began to run once again. The pain showed up to run with me the first time I laced up my trainers after my “healing hiatus”. As I was still in physical therapy some new hip and buttock exercises were added with the speculation that those parts were weak. (Personally, I wondered how I could have weak hips. I birthed four children)

A few weeks later, physical therapy and I broke up. I was not seeing progress and the time commitment was too much (in addition to the copays). The physical therapist said that the major inflammation was gone, but I would probably always have some pain when I run.

I could not accept that.

I gave it a month of running to see if it would improve. It did, but the pain still lingered, and the thought that it could possibly get worse was always droning in my mind while I ran.

So, I decided that I needed to try another method of healing.

Maybe it was skeletal rather than muscular?

After talked to several people and getting several recommendations, I made an appointment with a chiropractor.

My initial visit was a discussion of my symptoms, lifestyle questions, expectations, and purpose of my visit. Next there were several tests performed including nerve conductivity, examination of my feet and stance, and finally a full set of spinal x-rays. The results of all of these tests were to be discussed at my next appointment.

I came to that appointment looking forward to finding answers to why I hurt when I run. I also was a little apprehensive as I might find out why I hurt when I run.

Good or bad, I was ready.

What I got was a curve ball I didn’t expect.

First, the chiropractor put up the x-ray of my skull and neck and a control x-ray next to it. She asked if noticed any differences between the two. Immediately, I answered that I jut my head out from my shoulders. When I was in therapy for my swimmers slump, I was doing exercises to bring it back into alignment. (Man, I am really falling apart this year!) She indicated that I have lost the curve in my neck and without that curve, the weight of the head increases three times. With the proper curve the head only weighs 10 to 15 pounds to carry around, without the curve 30 to 45 pounds. (Wow! that must explain why I always feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders.)

Next, she started putting up the full x-ray of my spine and without her even saying a word, I stared at the lighted x-rays and exclaimed. “I have scoliosis!”

(My sister has scoliosis and as a child I was screened multiple times, by various doctors and specialists. My right hip has always been higher than my left and it was just speculated that I had one leg slightly longer than the other.)

There it was lit up clear as day – “mild” S curve. The first kink was right below the shoulder blades. The second kink is one or two vertebrae right above the tail bone. Those kinks correspond exactly with where my muscular problems have been – my right shoulder and my right hip.

My first question for the chiropractor was since I have been like this all my life, why am hurting now? Then, my mind raced immediately to my two girls and now the fact that I need to be extra vigilant about their screening for scoliosis, almost to the point that I want to them to get x-rays as adolescents.

Now that I have had time to process it, I have more that I need to ask:

Does this explain my pain in my shoulder and upper back that I always have?
How will treatment relieve this symptoms if there is always going to be muscular pressure?
Which people (obviously my doctor and pediatrician) is it important to disclose this information?
Will it get worse and cause problems for me in the future?

I also have some questions that I would love to ask by probably will not. Most pressing on my mind –

How much taller would I be if my spine was straight?

Poking Teams

So…. I have recently become involved with Facebook.

At first, I came to the relationship kicking and screaming. I usually am a here and now kind of girl. (Mr. Spie is rolling his eyes right now and saying “I wish”).

Meaning, that in the world there are a lot people that would give anything go back and relive high school, college, their 20s, etc.

Me?

I like where I am right now and will like where I will be in the future. Maybe this will change when I am 80, but right now this is the philosophy I subscribe to.

This philosophy really has messed with my head as I venture into the Facebook world.

My current friends, I connect with every day. They really don’t need some pithy status update to know where I am at mentally. In fact, at any point of the given day most of them will accurately be able to guess where I am at physically as well. I live my life a little like an open book.

Past friends, this is where I become a little muddled. I have friends that range back to middle school that I keep in contact with. I have a friend from grade school in which I get occasional updates. We are “Christmas Card” friends. Previous to my Facebook, I rarely have even given a second thought to friends from high school. My feeling was if the relationship was important to each of us, I would still be in contact with them.

But….

I have recently befriended a “Christmas Card” friend and when I was scoping out her friends, there was the high school “gang” sprinkled throughout.

Curiosity, my friends can be a dangerous thing.

For weeks, I have been looking at her list debating whether or not I should contact one of the “gang”.

I even added my maiden name and changed my profile picture to include my face to increase my recognizability. (I was previously just my torso and legs running – I extremely dislike myself in photos). These things were done in conjunction with my Facebook experiment of posting a positive or humorous thought a day to combat some of the negativity that I was seeing in the Facebook world! (….which is another topic for another day. I mean seriously can everyone’s lives be that bad each and every day?)

These changes and actual posting were done to see if any of “Christmas Card's” friends would contact me. It unfortunately did not work.

So…

I am left to figure out why I want to have contact with my former friends?
Narcissism?

What is my intention for the relationship if contact is made?
Validation?

Tired of the self analysis, I nervously chose someone today and I wrote them. I didn’t friend request.

Out of my realm of comfort?

Yes!

This has transported me back to high school and I am currently awaiting someone to pick me for their team for dodge ball.

Am I going to get picked or left holding the ball?

The only thing I can do is wait, see, and be ready to play.

keeping it in line

During the busyness of the holidays and my previous “working” life, I got a little sloppy.

There were so many “must dos” that had to be done that there was little to no time to tackle the “should dos”. The “shoulds” were put on a shelf in plain view. A reminder of things I needed to do (and to be blatantly honest, some of the “musts” were put on there too). I would often come home at the end of the day and look up at the “shoulds” up on the shelf and have little or no desire to tackle them.

One of these “shoulds” was to return the call to my long time friend. She and I have been friends from the 6th grade. Together, we fought our way through Middle School, survived High School, and celebrated College. We were there for first apartments, first boyfriends, weddings, children, and life. When I moved up to the snowy tundra of Wisconsin, it moved our relationship into the long distance category, but we still made it work.

My friend called during Christmas break and as I was struggling to keep my head above water, I just couldn’t find the right time to call her and catch up. I would think of this “should” often as I looked at the phone and then went through all of the other things that I “must” do – and the “musts” always would win. I kept telling myself that I would get to it and planned that once my employment had ended, I would make the time to call her back.

She, however, beat me to the punch by leaving me this message on my machine last week.

Hi Spie. It’s friend. I just returned home from an 8 day hospital stay. Call me when you get a chance.

Needless to say, whatever “must” I planned do to at that moment (which was feed my children lunch) was put on hold as I immediately returned her phone call. (Fortunately for my hungry children, Mr. Spie was home for lunch too and fed the ravenous brood)

My friend, it turns out, was life threatening ill. Those 8 days? More than half were spent in ICU.

Guilt has quite a hearty punch.

Thankfully, she is fine now. Recovering at home and counting her blessings.

Me? I am making a conscious effort to remember to keep mine where they belong….. at the forefront of the line.

snipettes of life

• Mr. Spie is away for a week -- a combination of pleasure and business. How did we celebrate? Home bound with two kids down with fever over this weekend.

• I will be finished with "outside of the home" work in 7 days and my new "free" time is already spoken for.

• Just realized that my first triathlon race of the season (a HIM) is about 4 months away. Perhaps I need to extend my time on the bike soon.

• As gross as Hamburger Helper is nutritionally -- it really does taste good.

• I was "coerced" into a Facebook account for my soon to be former job. Not really sure what I want to do with it. I prefer to keep tabs on people using my husband's account -- anonymity ROCKS!

• I find that even without children present, I gravitate towards children's programming. My current faves? Phinneas and Ferb and Johnny Test.

• I was kicked out -- (oops I mean released) after three months of physical therapy for a pain in my rear last week.

• The pain is still there and it is not one of my relations.

• Finally, I have made a pact to have a drama free February~JOIN ME!

Shoes

These past couple months I have been distracted by shoes.

Despite what you may think, it was not the footwear fantasy that you all imagine.

In September, I was offered the opportunity to have a new pair of shoes. In the box, they looked great, matched with the outfits in my closet. They fit my needs. I agreed to take them.

Initially they fit. As I walked around in the store, they looked fabulous. In my head, I was already imagining what these shoes could do for me.

Days passed and I wore the shoes often. Sometimes they were comfortable. Other times they pinched or rubbed. After a while, they really started to feel uncomfortable. Convinced that I was not wearing the shoes correctly, I made changes to how I wore the shoes.

I added trouser socks.

The shoes still rubbed.

Perhaps it was my feet?

I added thicker socks.

The shoes still rubbed.

Finally, I realized that it was not my feet.

I had many shoes that did not hurt my feet.

It was not the shoes.

There was nothing wrong with the shoes. They still looked great and would be a wonderful addition to any person’s wardrobe.

My feet were just not made for these shoes.

Of course, I am not talking about shoes; I am talking about a job.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In September, I was offered a part-time position that seemed to fit my family’s schedule. Taking this position would help out my church and many friends, which was a win-win in my opinion.

Unfortunately, while I was fulfilling the obligations of the job, I was unable to fulfill the obligations and needs of my family, which really is non-negotiable.

As good as they made me feel on the inside, they just were not working for me and others outside

– so the shoes are going back to the store.

And soon my shoes will once again become comfortable*

*and I will get back to my irregular blogging