Glad I Wore the Good Underpants

Remember when I wrote a lot (lot) about running and training and races?  That was cool.  For me, it was cool, anyway.  So, here's a quick (yeah, right) update on how the running and training and races are looking in my world.  (You can stop reading now, Sha.)

I have finally gotten back to running consistently.  The problem is, I'm consistently running 4-7 miles per week.  Back in the day (pre-injury last Summer, post-injury last Fall) I was easily getting in 15-20 miles per week.  Remember my mysterious calf pain?  Well, it has pretty much been explained.  I'm still planning to seek a second opinion, this time from a real doctor who specializes in sports or vascular medicine, but here's the gist of what's going on:  My legs blow.  I had (have?) a few superficial thromboses, which are basically blood clots in the smaller veins near the surface of my skin.  I also have (definitely have, not going anywhere) insufficient circulation in the right common femoral vein.

See it all the way up there?  The lady performing the venous ultrasound had to use the wand thingy and do lots of squeezes in that area to check my circulation.  Now you know why I'm glad I wore the good underpants.

I know what you're all thinking.  "Poor thing!  What did she ever do to deserve this?  It isn't fair!"  Thank you for your sympathy.  We'll get back to that in a moment.  First, let me tell you the good and the bad news.  The good news is that I don't have the dangerous deep vein thrombosis, and the back-up in blood flow (reflux, they call it) was only seen in that one spot.  The bad news is that, at least according to my PCRNPWHHADCHATTISH (primary care registered nurse practitioner who has had a different color hair all three times I've seen her- we'll call her CHATTISH for short) this is not a condition that will improve.  Ever.  The tiny blood clots they found were in the spot on my calf where I was having so much pain, which also happens to be where I have icky, bulging varicose veins. CHATTISH said that the clots will break up and go away if I use my hot compress and elevate my leg regularly, but it's also very likely that more will show up as I-you guessed it!-run.  The longer and oftener I run, the greater the occurrences of the clots will be.

Bonus!  If you look closely, you can tell which toenail on my right foot is about to fall off.   I <3 Running.

The more years that I run, the worse my veins and circulation are going to be.  Booooooo!  Now, back to your kind sympathies.  The thing is, I should've known this would happen.  The following groups of people have an increased risk of developing blood clots:

1. Smokers. 

I smoked for 10 years. (Quit almost 5 years ago!)

2. Women who have taken the pill.

Check.

3. People who are on their feet for long periods of time.

Like, say, working in restaurants and bars for 16 years.

CHATTISH said that she would not tell me to stop running.  She said that if I can handle the pain, fine.  She suggested I wear compression socks, but I need to get a pair with slightly less compression than those I currently own.  Not sure why, exactly, but the last time I wore them it felt like wasps were stinging my big toes; hurt so badly that I couldn't stand it.  

Now, on to the training and races! (That exclamation point was a lie.  This part's pretty depressing, too.)

I'm not training for anything right now.  If I were, I would be doing a terrible job of it by only running single-digit miles each week.  If I decide to keep the marathon distance as my goal, and if the pain doesn't get any worse, and if I am able to keep from getting any other injuries, I will start training in early July for the Savannah Rock 'n' Roll full marathon on November 8.  It's the only race for which I'm actually registered (Thank you, Charming!) which is a pretty good feeling right now.  I started reading the second book by the +another mother runner duo, Dimity McDowell and Sarah Bowen Shea, "Train Like a Mother."  It's practically impossible not to enjoy their writing.  

Buy it!

Their stories are so easy to relate to, funny, and inspiring, and I really like the book.  I'll admit, though, that I went into it expecting to be motivated to sign up for more races before finishing the first chapter.  Well, you know what they say about expectations.  Wait.  What do they say about expectations?  "Whatever you expect-------"  I don't remember.  Something, right?  Someone gimme a good quote.  I digress (as usual).  I've figured out that people don't always get their motivation from inspirational books.  Some people are motivated by strangers, and wanting to accomplish what so-and-so accomplished.  I know people who are motivated to register for races by the quality of the medals, shirts, goody bag.  Others, surely, are motivated by some inner drive to succeed.  Unfortunately, from where I sit (with my bulging veins and expanding waistline), all those things which used to be enough to motivate me to register and train for a race seem just to elicit sighs.  

I do have a plan, though.  +Runner's World Magazine tweeted the other day about their 40 day challenge.  Apparently, there are 40 days between Memorial Day and Independence Day (What, do these people all have calendars or something?) and the challenge is to run at least 1 mile on each of those days.  I'm not going to sign up for the challenge.  It was the timing and duration of the thing which inspired my plan.  Since I would need to start training for my third first marathon just after July 4th, and since Memorial Day occurs soon enough for me to keep it in focus, and since my last 40 day challenge (during which I abstained from Facebook) was so successful, it seems like a great time to evaluate.  I'm going to up my mileage and my cross training workouts, I'm going to eat more healthfully (Again. Still? Sometimes it's hard to tell.) and I'm going to make a decision about my near training/racing future.  If you want my advice, you'll also do some evaluating and decision making if you're in a sigh cycle like me.  Let me know how it goes!

For fun: what % of your underpants are "good"?

For the win: which toenail is hanging on by a thread?

Stretching The Truth

I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again.  I think it's very important to be honest with your children, and I promised myself when I became a mom that I wouldn't lie to my kids.  If you're a parent, I'm sure you'll agree that that's a really difficult promise to keep.  In many tricky conversations, I let 6 y.o. take the lead and I fill in the blanks with as much truth as I think he can handle.  For example, instead of telling him that the tooth fairy comes and brings money and takes his teeth, I told him that when I was a kid, I had a special tooth fairy pillow to hold my lost teeth and when I woke up in the mornings, I would find money in the tooth pocket.  I also read him a Berenstein Bears book in which Sister Bear lost a tooth and was hoping to see the tooth fairy.  A little deceptive?  Yes.  But I didn't lie!

He pulled tooth #4 at school yesterday, and this morning, as I laid awake with my heart still pounding from having almost forgotten to put money under his pillow, I started to think about why it's so easy for kids to believe in magic.  I don't think they're just gullible because they're young.  I concluded that it's all the little omissions, all the small deceptions, all of the unknown truths, that make the world seem full of wonder and mystery.


Wow #1-

Mom, when I'm 5 and the baby is born, will you tell me how that baby got in there?

I already told you, son.

You told me that God wanted our family to grow, so he let you and Daddy make a baby together.

Right!  And babies grow inside their mommies.

But, HOW did it start to grow?

Well, you know how birds and snakes and lizards lay eggs?  And if there's a daddy bird or snake or lizard, the eggs can hatch into babies?  It's just like that, only with people the eggs stay inside the mommy.  Then the daddy can do his part and make the egg into a baby.

Wow #2-

I think it's easier to believe in Santa Claus than to not.  I mean, if you don't really think about it.  How amazing to go to sleep one night with things just normal, and wake up several hours later with sparkly gifts, full stockings, wishes granted.   If an octopus can open a jar, a cheetah can run 70 mph, a dolphin can find food and sharks with clicks, and a peregrine falcon can use its talons to fight predators in the sky, then why couldn't a reindeer fly?6 y.o. is very observant, and I don't think he believes it's possible that Husband and I could pull off the task of shopping for and wrapping all those presents without him knowing. 

All that being said, 6 y.o. has asked some very tough questions about Santa, all of which I answered without lying:

If he sees me when I'm sleeping and awake, why does he ask if I've been good?

The Santa at the mall had white at the end of his sleeves and pants, but the Santa on the train didn't.  Why does he have to wear different suits?

Why do we donate toys to kids whose parents don't have enough money?  Doesn't Santa bring them presents anyway?

How do the elves make toys that look exactly like the toys in the store?  Couldn't they just buy them?

How has Santa lived for so many years?

Why does he want to live where it's so cold?

Did Santa bring presents to Baby Jesus?

Is Santa a real person?

If cookies are Santa's favorite food, why doesn't Mrs. Claus bake some for him?

Wow #3-

Come to think of it, 6 y.o. is not wowed nearly enough by technology.  He finds it fascinating that phones used to stay plugged in to the wall, not that we can now fit them into our pockets.  He laughs when I tell him about records and cassette tapes, and even CDs, but the fact that we can play any song with a few taps and clicks on the computer seems totally normal.  The concepts of long-distance calling, having to watch tv shows only when they're broadcast, and not being able to immediately see the photos you took are mind-boggling to him.  

The truth is, we do live in a marvelous, amazing, awesome, magical world.  Sometimes, looking around at it through a child's eyes can remind us just how wonderful it is.  I know I didn't come up with this phrase, and I'm probably going to butcher it, but it still rings true: Magic is just science we don't yet understand.  I don't think it's wrong to let 6 y.o. believe that there's a castle in the clouds made entirely of children's teeth (which is what he would do with them if he was the tooth fairy), and I don't think we're doing him a disservice by letting him leave out a plate of cookies on Christmas Eve.  Although, Mrs. Claus could probably find new cookie recipes that her husband would like by looking on the internet...

How old were you when you stopped believing in magic?

What is the most amazing thing you've seen lately?

Dear Science,

I don't pretend to understand you.  I mean, we're acquainted, but not the best of friends.  You might not realize this, but I've been enamored with you since 2nd grade when we planted beans and made rock candy.  We grew apart for a while, and then my love for you was rekindled when I was 13 and stayed true until, well, you got kinda math-y on me.  If only I could  have discovered all your hidden beauty and mystery without such bothers as "accurate measurement" and "statistical significance" and "physics."  Sigh.

Sweet!

I know that our relationship was not exclusive, and you probably didn't even notice when I abandoned you after college.  I had been distancing myself from you ever since that Biology 101 class during my Freshman year, when we weren't allowed to dissect anything, grow anything, or DO anything except take the end-of-chapter quizzes and watch movies (stupid, lazy, no-lesson-plans professor, tore us apart!).  Bo-ring.

My son learned more while feeding the ducks and turtles at the pond than I learned that entire semester.

The thing is, Science, I've still got a thing for you.  I know, I know.  I've been away too long, it will never work, we're too different now.  I don't expect us to pick up where we left off all those years ago.  We've both moved on.  What I really need now is for you to be more open and communicative with those who love you and who have been so dedicated to you.  I'm sure you've heard this before; folks come crawling back to you when they're looking for answers and realize that you're the key to solving their troubles.  Maybe I am being selfish.  But won't you please at least consider my requests?  Remember, we don't have to get back together for me to be happy.  I don't want to make you feel awkward, trying to get me caught up on all I've missed, and we both know that we'd have to waste lots of time reviewing things you had already shown me back when I was young and smart and had no children of my own to replace my deep, introspective contemplation of important, relevant things with thoughts of chicken nuggets, goldfish crackers, and Dora's explorations vs. Blue's clues.

Request #1- A cure for migraine headaches.  I realize there are awful, deadly diseases, afflictions more painful, and physical problems which are much, much harder to deal with than migraines.  Remember how I mentioned being selfish a minute ago?  Yes, this is a selfish request.  Let me modify it, slightly.  If I could just understand the migraines- the causes, symptoms, effective treatments, how long I can be suffering from one before everyone calls me a sissybaby behind my back, whether there is any real prevention method- that would be fantastic.  To make it easier on you, Science, I will gladly volunteer to have your Ists to study my brain, ask me questions, be fascinated by the auras that show up like clockwork before the pain sets in, and give me experimental drugs.

These poor, sweet children have to whisper when their Mom has a migraine, as their normal speaking voices bring tears of pain to her eyes.

Request #2- A cure for food allergies.  Not Lactaid.  That stuff tastes like drywall painted with toothpaste and doesn't even help relieve pain.  Not an epi-pen to save the life of the kid who accidentally ingested a peanut.  Not slightly-less-disgusting-than-they-used-to-be gluten-free products.  Food allergies are so unfair, and we need a cure.

Oreo cookie dunked in cold, creamy milk?  No.  Ice cream cone?  Nope.  Cranberry chutney stuffed brie cheese with fruit and crackers?  Negative.  Alfredo sauce?  Not unless it's made from cauliflower and soy milk.  Grilled cheese sandwich?  Mac-n-cheese?  Mashed potatoes?  Brown butter tortellini?  Pizza????  Sorry, Baby.  You can't have any of those things.  

Come on, Science.  We all know that you hold the key to unlocking all the mysteries of digestion, indigestion, and allergic reactions in the palm of your mysterious hand.  Won't you please show it to us?

Request #3- A self-cleaning floor.  Yeah, so I'm back to making selfish requests.  But before you shrug me off, think about this:  EVERYONE (and I don't think that's an exaggeration!) would like a floor that cleaned itself.  I'm not talking about a Roomba or whatever that creepy thing is that runs into walls all on its own.  I'm talking Jetsons-style.  Okay, so I think Rosie actually cleaned their floors, but I just mean their style.  I want to press a button on the wall or speak a few words aloud and have my floor obey immediately.  You know how there are little gutter bumpers that come up in the lane when it's a kid's turn to bowl?  I imagine that those kind of things would pop up from under the floor to barricade the area that was being cleaned.  The vacuum suction would come from underneath, as would the water and soap for the mopping.  Finally, the floor would be dried quickly so that it could be walked on almost without interruption.  (I think you've already let us figure out the dryers, actually.  Those automatic hand dryers in park bathrooms are pretty stinkin' powerful.  That had to be your doing, Sci [Can I call you Sci?  No?  You're afraid of being mistaken for a much-too-well-known, can't-believe-anyone-listens to this, so-called rapper?  Gotcha.].  Thanks!)  The best part?  Even if the floor had just been cleaned when someone spilled their soy milk or tracked mud in or dropped cooked couscous, with the simple press of a button and zero complaining, it could be clean again within minutes!

It's true that wethey've discovered a lot about you already, Science, and don't think me ungrateful.  Louis CK says in that viral video that I can't seem to find, "Everything's amazing and nobody's happy."  Everything is amazing, but I am happy, even though you and I have lost touch.  It's just...I think it's about time for a new Science Revolution (wait a sec- a "new revolution"- that's poorly worded, eh?  Oh, well.  Probably nobody will care, unless you let your sister-in-law, English, read this letter).

(Oops.  I think it's against the rules to end a paragraph with a set of parentheses, too?  Please don't show this letter to English!  Or to Grammar, for that matter!)

Sincerely,

Friendly in Florida

p.s.
Here's a bit of advice that I need to remember more than you do, Science:  Be smart.  Think.  Create.  Experiment.  Your ideas might just bring fame and fortune to yourself and some Ists!

p.p.s. (tee hee!  p p!)
Yes, I know how to spell 'scientists'.  I realize there's a 't' before the 'ists'.  Lemme alone, I can call 'em 'ists' if I want to!