a tropical heat wave

It's cold in Wilmington and I can see snow on the ground from my couch. Snow! This hasn't happened in the three years that I've lived here and predictably, the city can't deal at all. Everything that can be shut down is shut down, which irritated me to no end - IT'S LIKE TWO INCHES OF SNOW YOU PEOPLE ARE SO WEAK - until my office was included on that list. At which point I was all, "Oh, yeah, it is kind of bad out there, maybe we should all stay inside until Saturday."

I did venture out twice, once to take a little photo walk and the second to go to the gym. It took about 15 minutes to drive the two miles there, only to find that the gym was closed despite its Facebook page telling me it wouldn't be (liars). There were a bunch of guys in the parking lot and when I turned to leave they all piled into their BMW and spent 10 minutes turning doughnuts in the parking lot. They were idiots - it's a large stretch of pavement, but there are a lot of light poles scattered throughout it - but it reminded me of being 17, when it would snow for days and my boyfriend would take me to the empty high school parking lot to do the same thing. I turned that into dramatic poetry post-breakup - "You pull the emergency brake and we go in circles," is how I worded it - but today the only drama is the fact that my hot water pipes are once again frozen and I can't shower. Apologies to my coworkers tomorrow. I tried.

(Title is a reference to this...

...which I always, always think of when it snows.)

2013

I mostly hate 2013. So many ridiculous things happened to me this year - the five months being terrified that I had a debilitating disease, the eventual diagnosis of peripheral neuropathy, the gluten intolerance, a breast lump (diagnosed fairly quickly via slimy ultrasound as benign), a severe allergic reaction to an antibiotic that swelled my lips into Angelina Jolie-size and caused me to break out all over in hives, the subsequent dose of steroids - that my greatest feeling about the past 12 months is mostly a profound relief that they're finally over.

Which is ultimately short-sighted, even if I don't like to admit it. Some really good things happened this year, too. I met Brandon, which is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. I learned a lot about giving myself a break. I tried yoga. I ran every single day for a month. I traveled an insane amount. I went to Wisconsin - twice! - and didn't hate it either time. I relaxed and went with the flow and, I like to think, changed for the better. And I documented it all the best that I could, both on paper and with my camera(s). Here, in photo form, are some of my favorite moments from 2013.

I'm thankful for many things that happened this year, but sorry, 2013, I'm still not sorry to see your bitchass in the rear-view.

Happy new year! xo

Up to speed

I can't remember the last time I was in shape.

That's a lie, I can. It was the day after I ran the Chicago Marathon. I was sitting in the airport with my feet on my suitcase, occasionally pulling out the finishers' medal to assure myself that yes, I actually did that, and there were so many racing possibilities and I couldn't wait to tackle them all. And then, for all intents and purposes, I never ran again.

I mean, I did. I registered for a November marathon, I once again started training too late, and I ended up having to stop completely because I was taking a medication that made my joints ache and it hurt too much. I deferred that marathon entry to this November. I registered for a marathon and half-heartedly tried to train, but got shin splints, a side effect of what turned out to be a fairly serious vitamin D deficiency.

And then, my left foot started going numb for no reason and I began having weird twitches all over my body. I went to the doctor thinking it wouldn't be a big deal. Instead, I've spent the past five months mired in the terrifying and frustrating and maddeningly slow-moving process of being diagnosed with a nerve disorder.

I don't have a firm diagnosis yet, because it takes forever and there are a bunch of terrifying things that have to be ruled out first. Most likely I don't have multiple sclerosis. Almost certainly I do not have ALS. Probably what I have is peripheral neuropathy, but I don't know what that means or how I can treat it and I'm still a few steps away from getting to that point.

(You can Google this if you want, but it will just confuse you. Everything you'll find will talk about diabetes, and I don't have diabetes. Essentially what peripheral neuropathy means is that the pathways between my brain and my nerves are breaking down, and that's why I'm twitching. Does it get worse? Does it get better? That all depends on the outcome of tests I haven't taken yet, and Googling that shit is terrifying so I no longer do that. I try to be content with the waiting. I am sometimes successful.)

What I can tell you is what it has meant in terms of running, which is basically that I haven't been. At all. My main symptom is nerve twitching in my feet. Sometimes, it is strong enough to move my toes, and I can see the nerve fibers moving under the skin. None of it is painful and so it probably doesn't sound like a big deal to you, because it wouldn't to me, but trust me when I say that it's not the only symptom and it is very, very, very unnerving, and that it happens every single day, for long periods of time. For several hours after every run, the twitching would be worse, and stronger, and scarier, and it made me panic, and so I just stopped doing it.

What this means is that I have essentially been out of shape for a year and a half. I have not run consistently since before my marathon. I do not remember what it feels like to go run three miles and not be gasping for breath at the end. Stairs make me winded. This is the least physically active I've ever been, and it's a devastating feeling. It's a lot of, "How did it get to this point?" and, "Why can't I do this?" and it leads pretty quickly into a spiral of self-loathing, with not a small amount of fear over the ongoing neuro stuff.

What I've decided is that I need to just snap out of it. Both my research and my neurologist say that it's fine if I run as long as it doesn't make my symptoms worse, and according to the doctor, "sometimes it twitches more for a while after idk" is not a sign that it's getting worse. Exercise can actually help with neuropathy symptoms, and so can a healthy diet and so can calming the hell down about it.

So that's what I'm trying to do. I've really only been giving it a serious try for the past two days. Yesterday, I was out the door before 6 am to run 2 miles (twitch-free!). Today, I just ate a lot of pasta. Everything in my life is a process and a balance and it usually involves a lot of food because I like food, and that's okay. All I want to do is to treat myself really well, and to remember that I know how to run, and to believe that it will feel good again someday. I want to drink more tea and eat more strawberries and stretch more and write more and take more photos and read more books and do fun things with fun people. I want to take my whole life one day at a time. That's a cliche, and I know it, but I've never been able to do it. I jump 87 steps ahead. What I have learned in this health-scare process - one of the many things I've learned - is that leaping to conclusions is awful. Googling things is terrible. Looking eight years to the future doesn't help anyone, unless you're doing it to finagle a detailed plan for saving to buy an awesome house or a puppy. And so going forward, I'm going to do my best to stay right here, in the present, where I am.

Which is here: on the couch, having a little gchat with my cute boyfriend, not caring all that much about my stupid feet twitching, and looking forward to my run in the morning. It'll be 6 am and the city will be cool and quiet and it will be all mine, and that is good. That is all very good.

Decision-making

I'm pondering deferring my registration for Raleigh to next year. Thought process? Thought process:

1. I'm still taking Accutane (one month away from being done). It is a fabulous, wonderful, amazeballs medication that has completely transformed my skin but it is also a serious drug that has common but serious side effects, including increased sensitivity to sun, super dry lips and eyes and, most importantly, joint and muscle pain. I have been running consistently and increasing my mileage slowly and my fitness and endurance levels have been handling it fine. My body, on the other hand, feels like someone smacked it repeatedly with a tire iron. My hips hurt. My shins hurt. The backs of my heels hurt. As I type this I haven't run in six days and my muscles, mostly around my hips and butt, are still sore. My doctor is aware of all of this and said it's fine for me to keep running. I'm not injured or running myself toward an injury; this is just how the drug works. But popping ibuprofen three times a day for the next six weeks seems...not smart, and forcing my body to do something that makes it hurt fairly consistently seems similarly unwise.

2. I'm not really where I need to be to run this race for real, which I want to do. I have zero doubt that I could continue training and finish the marathon, but it will hurt and my time probably won't be very good and that doesn't sound like fun.

3. It's free to defer. I thought about dropping down to the half, but they charge a $20 change fee for that and I'm just...meh. Marathon I already paid for and want to do >>> more expensive half marathon that I'm not all that interested in.

4. Frankly, the thought of taking the time to build a rock-solid base and just running in the mornings four times a week because it makes me happy and because I want to do it makes me kind of giddy.

5. There are a couple of really, really great marathon options in my area early next year. The Charleston Marathon is the second weekend in January, and there's a marathon literally eight miles from my front door in March. Maybe I will do both! Maybe I will do neither! But they're both great possibilities, in completely realistic timeframes.

Right now, while my face looks great and my body feels like it's 86, I want to take some time to be in love with running and with spending time on my feet in my town and with seeing the seasons change firsthand outside (as much as the seasons ever change down here). I'm kind of sad because I want to do another marathon, but I'm not that sad because I will do another marathon, and when I do, I will do it correctly, with adequate time and without a training plan slapped together at the last minute. All in all, happy. Good things are in store. A lot of them.

Completely gratuitous cat photo:

I hope you all are well and that none of your running hurts your hips. I almost can't remember what that feels like. One more month!

REJECTION

So this happened:

Rude. The whole marathon lottery day was kind of a disaster. NYRR sent multiple emails encouraging everyone to watch via livestream the opening day ceremonies, where they promised to scroll a list of names of the people who were accepted into the race. Excited by this concept, Dan, the sports editor, and I sat at his desk for 30 minutes watching the worst opening day video ever. There were professional athletes who the hosts forced to play ping-pong. There was Ridiculously Photogenic Guy, who as far as I can tell had pretty much nothing to do with anything except it was a race photo that catapulted him to internet meme fame.

There were a bunch of bib giveaways for the people who had attended in person the opening day festivities (they all lived in New York, obviously; one guy kept his headphones in while accepting his prize). There was NOT, however, a list of names.

We were pissed. A lot of other people were pissed, too, especially as the day dragged on and the lottery results weren't released, and the NYRR website kept crashing, and the only way to know if you'd been accepted was to refresh your bank account and wait for the magical $255 deduction. Needless to say I got pretty much nothing done on Wednesday, then woke up yesterday to my official rejection letter.

I was pretty bummed. I hadn't realized until I spent eight hours stalking the Chase Bank website how much I really wanted to run New York. I gave myself about 20 minutes to mope and then I headed to active.com and officially registered for the Raleigh City of Oaks Marathon.

I'm excited. It's going to be a totally different game than Chicago. There, I ran with 35,000 other people; Raleigh caps its marathon field at 1,000. Chicago was entirely flat (except, rudely, for the last .2 miles); in the past, the Raleigh course was terrifyingly hilly, but they altered the layout this year so it's much less severe. Still, here's a snippet of the elevation chart:

Yowza. And in Chicago, there were 2 million spectators lining the route for the entire 26.2 miles. In Raleigh, I imagine there will be large stretches of the course with no spectators at all.

All that being said, I'm still pumped. I really want to do another marathon and I really want to do it properly. I feel like I now have a better sense of what marathon training entails, from the mental toughness and the dedication to just getting it done. I really want to see what I can do.

I've been running consistently for the past couple of weeks, which for me is a major victory - consistency tends to be my big problem. I'm currently having oodles of shin pain, which is weird - I am frequently injured as a result of running, but shin pain isn't something I can ever remember contending with - so I ordered some new shoes this morning and am planning to spend a lot of quality time this weekend with ice packs and ibuprofen. Hopefully that'll resolve itself soon so I can continue getting back into shape, building my base and then transition into the meat of training. I sincerely hope to whine less this time, but it would obviously (OBVIOUSLY) be irresponsible to promise that now. Consider yourselves warned.

I have gone running twice this week, BEHOLD MY GARMIN DATA:

(Monday)

(today)

Interestingly my last run (weeks ago, before the Cold of Death) was much slower than these. I have scientifically deduced that this means the germs ate up all of the slow in me. They did not, you understand, eat up the out-of-shape-ness, because I still have that; I just have a slightly faster version of it. This is science. I wore glasses while I figured it out.

After getting back tonight, foam-rolling (ow) and wolfing down dinner (Boca burger), I received this email from the New York Road Runners:

I didn't really read it at first and instead was all, how cute that they think I might forget that the drawing is in a week!, then went to Twitter to send the sports editor another reminder that I will be taking over his desk to watch the drawing. Then I calmed down and actually read it and then had a mini panic attack, because my debit card was stolen about a month ago and I hadn't updated my payment information and HOLY HELL, CAN YOU IMAGINE IF I GOT IN AND THEN GOT REJECTED BECAUSE OF THAT?

So I hightailed it to my lottery profile....only to discover that I had, in fact, updated the card number. Huh. Totally forgot to do that for the cable company, the pet insurance people and my gym membership, but apparently remembered to do it for the marathon people. Priorities, people. Priorities. Seven days to go!

doesn't even count as an entry

I noticed that dailymile, ostensibly annoyed with my lack of running workouts, decided to just update my race schedule widget with the 2012 Chicago Marathon. Thanks, dailymile! I do love Chicago; I am not, in fact, running it this year. I appreciate your support, though.



Here are some cupcakes for your time:


Pentax K1000, I think expired Fuji film. Cupcake on the left is vanilla (mine), cupcake on the right is lemon raspberry (my friend Shannan's).

No joke, best cupcake I ever had.