Week off chemo and the Greenland Trail 25k

I have been extremely tired and breathless during my runs lately. In fact, over last weekend, I had been in such sorry condition that I said to my husband, "I wonder if I will EVER feel like I used to feel. What if this is all I've got going forward?" My friends are all getting in better shape as they train for upcoming race, and right now I am always the slowest one in the group. While I understand what is going on with my body, I would be lying if I said it never bothered or concerned me. 

I was off from chemotherapy this week. On Monday, I met a girlfriend of mine for some "trail therapy". We ran ten miles together. We have a very therapeutic talk along the way and I felt the best I had on a run in at least a few weeks. When I got home, I was feeling practically giddy about how I did not feel completely miserable on my run. I thought, "Wow, that run did not completely suck for me! Maybe I will sign up for the Greenland 25k this weekend!"

I ran the Greenland 50k one time several years ago. I finished as fourth female overall that year in 4:50 and change. I normally prefer to go with the longest distance available at any given race. Since I have not run anything longer than 16 miles since prior to my surgery in November. I knew the 50k would be out of the question. But I thought, "I can finish the 25k." I signed my husband and myself up for the 25k. I had trouble falling asleep that night because I was so excited about the prospect of getting out to run a race.

Tuesday morning, I got up and went out for a 6-7 mile run. I was tired. I was back to feeling breathless. The wind was sucking the enthusiasm out of me. I probably ran around half of what I set out to do that day and walked the rest. Doubts started to creep in. What the hell was I thinking signing up for a race? Suddenly 25k seemed like a very long way to go. I had no idea what would happen on Saturday. I assumed I would walk some of the one longest uphill on the course when I signed up just because of my breathlessness. I did not want to end up walking the entire course, though. There is nothing wrong with walking, of course, but I just do not have the patience to walk 15.5 miles. 

On Wednesday, I ran with two of my friends. We set out for an "easy" run and yet I found myself behind and working much too hard. When I got home, I started looking up times from last year's 25k to see what the slowest finish times were so I could plan race day accordingly. I was really honestly wondering if I was going to be walking most or all of the race. 

On Thursday, I met up with a friend who was tapering for a marathon in California. We had planned a short run and I still felt tired and slow but otherwise alright. On Friday I squeezed in a short run around my neighborhood prior to my oncology appointment. My mind was on overdrive due to having one kid out of school, one kid with an injury and a sick dog. I thought, "WHY did I sign up for a race? Why did I add additional stress and pressure to my life right now?" 

All week long I had been telling Steve that he did not have to run with me. He could go out hard and see what he was capable of and I would not be upset. Steve said he wanted to run with me. While I love running with my husband, I was worried about holding him back too much or about pushing myself too hard to keep up with him.

I had no idea what would happen during the race. Would I run the whole thing? Would I walk every uphill? Would I really suffer and end up walking most of it? What ended up happening was that I ran the entire first loop and then walked for maybe a minute total on the second loop. I actually felt dizzy at times on the course. I was out of breath on the uphills. I was not able to recover from the uphills like I normally would. But, in part because of the extra days off from chemo, and in part because I love competition, I found a way to start pushing myself. I have been running but not "training" during my treatment. I have done no speed workouts. I have done no hill repeats. My running now had lots of walking mixed in. And yet, during the race. I kept looking forward thinking, "I know it hurts but run to that tree and then if you need to walk, you can". I found that I could keep running beyond each spot I had selected, and then onto the next one, and then the next.

 As we went out on the second loop, I started to focus on my competition, "If I keep going, I can pass that person in front of me."  The race was first with just myself, and then finally it became with the other runners. I knew I was not going to be one of the very top females, but I knew I was going to end up in a much better place than I thought I would initially. According to the unofficial race results, my husband and I finished in 2:28:56. I was 8th out of 55 in my age group in 42 out of 183 female runners. While this was a slower pace than I had run in the 50k, I am thrilled with my finish time and my place. I worked my butt off on Saturday. I pushed myself very hard, and ran as hard as I could have on that day. Running well when I have trained hard is very gratifying. Running as hard as I did four months into chemotherapy and less than six months after having internal organs cut out, makes me happy and proud of myself. I did not win. I did not place in my age group, but a I absolutely worked as hard as I could out on the course. While someone who does not know may look at my placing and time on Saturday and think nothing of it, I take pride in how I did because I know the circumstances leading up to the race.

Here is a post race photo of my husband and me. He said he would start and finish with me, and that is what he did. 

This week, I want my daughters to remember that in life it is always important to give your best, no matter what that might mean on any given day. What that best effort translates into is going to vary depending on your life circumstances. Sometimes your best will be "the best" and other people will congratulate you and acknowledge your achievements. Other times, your best efforts may not seem that impressive to other people. But, if you have given 100% of yourself, and you know you have worked as hard as you possibly could, you should never be disappointed in yourself. Not disappointing yourself is far more important than any accolades you may receive from other people. 

My week off from chemo!

I posted this weekend's blog entry to Pikes Peak Sports. Please follow the link to read my post about my week off from chemotherapy, my fabulous docs, and my daughter's coaches.

http://www.pikespeaksports.us/profiles/blogs/my-week-off-from-chemo-running-doctors-and-coaches

Chemo treatment 7 week in review

This past Monday, I received my 7th chemo infusion. As usual, Steve and I started off the day with a run. It was lovely and we covered 10 miles. I am finding that I get winded very easily these days. Hills that I used to breeze up can now leave me gasping for air or dizzy. Sometimes I just walk up the hills. I am having to slow down and adjust but I am still running and covering ground. 

    The infusion itself went smoothly. I came home and tried to take a nap but my neighbors dogs were all barking and then another neighbor decided to serenade me with very loud music. Sleep seems elusive these days. Riley had a track scrimmage but I was too worn out to attend. It makes me very sad to miss my kids' activities. Fortunately Steve was able to attend and cheer her on for me. 

     The first two cycles I had some unexpected side effects crop up and I wondered what this cycle would bring. So far, all I have experienced this cycle is nausea and the severe fatigue. It does seem that Wednesday seems to be the worst day for fatigue for me. Still I managed to keep up with my obligations and get in a few running dates with my friends. By Friday of this week, I was thinking, "I really don't feel too bad. I feel kind of ok!" Any time I more or less feel ok, it's a happy occasion. 

    On Friday I got my Brooks running Run Happy team gear. Everything looks amazing and fits perfectly. I am excited to be a part of the Boulder Running Company/Colorado Springs brooks run happy team. 

In happy family news, Riley got to run in her first varsity track meet this weekend. I am proud of her for working hard and for learning to put forth her best efforts even when her lungs and legs may be screaming at her to stop. No matter where her running takes her in life, the lessons of hard work and perserverence will always stay with her. 

    Tomorrow is chemo infusion #8. But first, I will run. 

Please be patient with me. I am still trying to figure this chemo thing out.

I have long prided myself on being a reliable person. If I say I am going to do something, I do it. Or rather that is how I always had been until cancer came along. I hope the people in my life can be patient with me over the remaining five months of chemo that lie ahead.

   I am now seeing how I really just have no idea what side effects will hit me or when the side effects will come on with a vengeance. I am more tired than I have ever been in my life. I feel changes in my body from day to day and sometimes from hour to hour, and even minute to minute. I may feel "good enough" in the morning, only to find that by lunch time I am too tired to function. Nausea and other side effects sneak up on me when I least expect it. 

  I hate canceling or rescheduling plans. I hate disappointing my family. It pains me greatly to say, "I can't because I don't feel well or I am too tired". I especially hate saying those words to my kids. I hate bailing on my friends. I don't normally do any of those things. Please know that when I am unable to do something that I have planned on, I am so terribly sorry and it bothers me more than you can imagine. I don't like being unreliable. I don't like feeling like a flake. I want to honor my commitments and obligations so badly that I feel constantly worried about letting people down.

    If I have to cancel or reschedule plans or say, "I am sorry but I just can't do X right now"...please hang in there and don't give up on me. I promise I will be back. I am trying hard to get better now so I can be the person I always have been. 

It's show time!

I woke up scared today. I am starting chemo this afternoon. I wonder what side effects I will experience, how it will impact my life, my husband, and most importantly my kids. I could sit here and dwell on things, and be afraid. Instead, I got up, cleaned the house, cooked breakfast for the family, and went for a run with my husband after school drop off. Ten miles done in crazy winds. As always, I am so grateful that I was able to get out for a run.

It isn't that I don't experience fear or negative thoughts. I respect my fears and give them time and space but I refuse to wallow in negativity or self pity. Thinking positive thoughts is not going to fix my problems. Allowing destructive thoughts to take over my head is not going to help me, either. We can allow our problems to turn us into bitter or angry people. Or we can choose to acknowledge our difficulties and try to take action to move beyond them. I consider myself to be neither optimist nor pessimist but rather a realist. It won't be easy, but I hope six months from now I can close this chapter of my life and move on. 

Got my chemo port yesterday

I had to go in for outpatient surgery to get my chemo port installed on 12/30/13. Happily I got the same surgeon to take care of my port who did my pancreatectomy/splenectomy. I liked him personally the first time around and felt like he did a great job with a major abdominal surgery. I suffered no complications and am healing quite nicely already. When someone is cutting your body open for any reason, it is good to have confidence in them! 

  Three times in the last couple of months I have had to fast for procedures or surgeries. The first time was for an endoscopic ultrasound. That procedure was not scheduled until 3:30 pm. It was hard, but I knew it was necessary. The second time was for my surgery in November. Mercifully, my surgery was early and I had to check in to the hospital at 7:30 am. My nerves let me forget about things like food and caffeine. This time around, my surgery wasn't until 11:30 and I was losing my sense of humor about being denied coffee in the morning. I know, I have much bigger fish to fry right now, but it really is the little things that make life more pleasant! 

  We got checked in without a problem. The outpatient clinic was hopping. This was the same clinic where our younger daughter, P, got her tonsils and adenoids out, a few years back. So much of it was familiar from back then. I remembered waiting with her back in a room, P in her surgical gown, hair net in place, and her stuffed penguin sitting along side her, wearing his own hair, or maybe feather, net. I remembered images of puppies on the door of the room we waited in with her.

  I saw my surgeon, chatted with him, the anesthesiologist, several very nice nurses, and then it was time to go. The port goes into the top of your chest. The surgeon said they can place the needle into a blood vessel in the chest, where there is a 1/100 chance of puncturing the lung. Or, he could put it in a vessel in the neck, where there is a 1/10,000 chance. He preferred to do the neck, and that was fine with me. He told me he would try to place it out of the way in case I wanted to wear a low cut dress or blouse, but I was most concerned about my sports bra. I need to be able to wear a sports bra. How often am I going to be going out dancing in a low cut dress over the next six months? I am guessing never. I hope to run a few times per week, though. A girl has to have her priorities!

  While they were prepping things in the OR, the doc, nurses and I discussed running, hiking the manitou incline, and other Colorado staples. There are certain shared experiences here that unite Coloradans and that is one thing I just love about living here.

  The anesthesiologist told me to have a nice nap and I did. I woke up about an hour later, feeling quite groggy and a little sore. I had to get an X-ray to make sure things were placed properly. After the X-ray, they brought me to a room to recover, and low and behold, it was the puppy room that P had been in for her tonsil surgery! I waited in the puppy room until they got my X-ray results back. Everything looked good. The nurse brought me some crackers and coffee, which was wonderful. By mid afternoon, we were headed home.

  This surgery was very insignificant compared to what I had gone through a few weeks ago, but it still isn't without discomfort. I have stuff in my chest that doesn't belong there, and they had to cut through my chest to get it in there. I am a very small female. My skin is bulging out where the port was installed. I have been icing and taking over the counter pain meds, but I didn't get a lot of sleep the last two nights. I am guessing as my skin stretches to accommodate things, it will hurt less.