A quick (and very rough) post…

Because I’m tired, but I need to write. February 17, 2011 I returned to work after I took a leave of absence for my emergency brain surgery. I wasn’t quite doing a full 8-hour day and the driving in LA traffic was precarious since my neck still didn’t have a full range of motion. Dad stayed behind and acted as chauffer for a couple more weeks and slowly, I was able to have full driving and work independence. Even today, on days where I’m working 11 hours, I’m thankful that I can since I remember those early rough days.

February 17, 2013 I had another runners’ high while I ran the Pasadena Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon (my 8^th half). Despite being under-trained (although I think those hill repeats in the foothills of Mt. Lee did me some good psychologically), I was only 3 minutes off my PR. This race felt less achy than last year’s Pasadena half marathon and certainly less achy than the half I did 6 months post surgery.

And after these runners’ highs, I am shaken to the core with my own humanity and reminder that healing is a non-linear process. I had a follow-up MRI in San Diego. I was so exhausted I fell asleep in the machine and didn’t even feel the poisonous contrast enter my body. By eight o’clock that night I had all I could do to sit up through dinner, and my 8:30 I was in bed.  I felt ill. A night of cold-sweats and discomfort.  My parents didn’t disturb me for breakfast the next morning.  They kindly brought back some toast & got me some orange juice. One sip of the juice and my body rejected it. I felt like I was a dishrag being run out for every inch of its worth.  I slept until we could check out, followed by more sleep during the 3 hour drive from San Diego to Los Angeles and still more sleep when we got back home. It took almost a day and a half for the radiation poisoning to work its way through my system. My previous MRI (in September) also didn’t leave my stomach in a very happy state, but this one just wiped me out. Plausible theories surrounding this are the accumulation of the contrast that has been pumped into me since December 2010, or the fact I’m nearly 10 pounds skinnier than I was then… which makes it great for running and clothes looking better, but not so great when it comes to enduring MRI contrast. My doctor didn’t make a mention of my next
MRI, so I have some time to recover. I’m not ready to run 3 miles, but I’ll be back on the running path soon. The only thing my doctor said of note was having the two of us work together to raise money for brain tumor research. It looks like I have my work cut out for me- I have my next race to train for & a small (multi-million dollar) fundraising goal. Should be an interesting year.

Friends Say The Darndest Things

Getting back on a training schedule remains difficult. I am past the point of excitement training for my first marathon and past the need to prove that the brain tumor has not altered my life. What remains is the phantom love of endurance running. The difficult journey is getting back to that and just laying down those first weeks of slow painful miles. My running will not improve if I don’t attack it with the same intense desire as I did when I started long distance running years ago. Soon, I won’t have a choice.

Distractions and excuses for not logging miles abound. My lack of focus on running continued when my mom came out for a recent MRI, and ended shortly after. On the way home from my MRI in San Diego, I took my mom to a friends’ housewarming. Besides showing us their wonderful first home. The husband convinced me it was a good idea to invest in the Tour Pass for the Rock n Roll Race Series for 2013. Yes, for one price, I can run as many marathons, half marathons & 5ks that are associated with the Rock n Roll Race Series.  Quick math tells you this is a good idea because entry fee for each race is nearly $100 and with four races being 300 miles or less from Los Angles, it’s money well spent. Besides the interest of cardiovascular health, nothing is a great motivator like spending money on a race. I’ve already dropped out of one race due to lack of training; I don’t intend to do it again.

Before committing to the Pass, I should have taken stock in who was advising me of the benefits of unlimited races. My friend is not just a hobbiest…. He and his wife are running a half marathon a month for 2012 and they are discussing doing 13 half marathons (13.1 miles) for 2013. I should have realized his sound advice could be problematic. But, taking a step back, it no more insane than just deciding to run a marathon. To many, setting out to run for fun already boarders on crazy, so I guess weather his advice was sound or not is a mute point since I may be a little crazy myself for loving long distance running and harboring the need to get back to running 20+ miles a week. Next stop- Pasadena Half Marathon in February, with a possible January half in Arizona thrown in.

AN UNCONVENTIONAL SIDEBAR
My doctor was so pleased with my December 2011 MRI, he postponed my follow up to June and then he had to move me to September. (All this is quite a delight since in August 2011, my case was brought up for consult to the tumor board for more surgery.) We were cautiously optimistic about the September 2012 MRI, but we were not expecting the results we got. Without the benefit of big Pharma, the residual tumor that was a worry is gone! My MRI looks like God went in with a Dust Buster and cleaned that sucker up.  Now that the tumor is gone, my doctor is more adamant to track my food. I had been keeping a traditional food journal, but that was proving depressing and I felt too much like a lab rat. BUT, I have been keeping a journal on my iPhone through MyFitnessPal, which feels more trendy and less cumbersome. Recently learned to export my food and exercise journal I keep on to a document I can convert to a PDF and give to him every 3 months.

Time of My Life

Two elite students crashed my first Cha-Cha class. My instructor was struggling juggling teaching Beginner and Intermediate & I was simply struggling. The female took over the Beginners while the male took pity on me and gave me a near-private lesson. For one particular move, he told me to pretend like I was walking. I did as he commanded and then he chastised me, “you wouldn’t walk like that!” My response was simple, “I do. But, this could be why I trip on my own feet.”  This remark actually worked well and made me much more conscious of how I walk! 

With my dance experience with my Guatemalan-ex, Salsa was relatively easy. My  biggest struggle came on a Thursday when I worked a 12-hour day earlier that week. Despite having my prism glasses to help keep the double vision at bay, the further we got into the warm-up, the worse the vision. I sat down until it subsided. Still feeling crummy, I had to excuse myself and go home. According to an article published by Johns Hopkins, double vision is a common problem among children and adults who have diseases that also affect balance.

 For some later Cha-Cha classes, Nadia Eftedal herself was our instructor.  She saw I still couldn’t put everything together and she broke it down to bite size pieces that I could digest and hopefully remember. My dancing skills are not for lack of trying, I simply couldn’t get it. Growing up in a remote area of CT, dance classes weren’t prevalent, so I couldn’t build on something I learned when I was younger. YouTube wasn’t helpful; after showing the basic step once, instructors went on to more sophisticated moves. The best I could find were Dancing With the Stars videos but even without the benefit of having an instructor there to guide you, you were lost.

Which brings me to the title of the piece— I have a lot of favorite films, & “Dirty Dancing” is one of them.  Around the time of my lumbar puncture when “brain cancer” was what we weren’t talking about, I had to have what would become one in a series of MRIs. An MRI tech offered to pump music into the machine for me to help the time pass. This particular day was on the heals of Patrick Swayze’s death. “Time of my Life” came on. In the MRI I remembered I was supposed to stay still. I managed to put a cork in my emotions, but I have never before or since been filled with so much rage. Rage at what I had (at that point was mid-grade cancer) and rage that Patrick Swayze had an amazing career and here I was cut short from doing what I was designed to do. It took me a long time to get over this. I’d change the dial when the song came on. I hadn’t even watched the movie since the surgery. AND here, struggling with the Cha-Cha, the only place I knew I could turn to with specific dance moves was “Dirty Dancing.”  I cued the DVD up to the exact scene where I knew I could find Baby, Johnny, and Penny. I saw the rhythm and what their frames looked like… since the story wasn’t going for instructional dance video and it was about them, the camera didn’t focus on their feet, but I felt it. I watched other scenes and saw different styles of dance, THAT I WAS LEARNING being incorporated into the now iconic dances that Baby was doing!

I still have not watched the film in its entirety since surgery and/or enrolling in dance classes. I haven’t heard Time of My Life in its entirety. But, just taking classes has helped in my daily life with balance and posture. I have a different kind of confidence.  I don’t intended to become a professional dancer, but having this new skill is fun and I intend on building on it. Now that I have another thing crossed off my “To Do List,” what can I add to help me continue to grow?

A Christmas Letter for You

In honor of the time-honored obnoxious Christmas bragging letter, please enjoy the next post.

December 15, 2011

Regretfully, Dear Friends I was unable to get out a 2010 Christmas letter as I was hospitalized at the peak of letter writing season. Not to shortchange you, I’ve included some highlights from last year.

Let’s face it, I am awesome. After working for the Senior Vice President of my old company & stretching the position & salary, I left to assist the Executive Producer of two local court shows.

On December 10, I found a new way to get across town. Hot damn. What good looking chauffeurs! There is no better way to travel at excessive speed & not get a ticket than in an ambulance. In short order, I arrived at my holiday vacation spot (aka Providence St. Joseph’s Medical Center).

I figured I’d keep my research for the Grey’s Anatomy spec script going & have some surgery on December 15.  Odds are if you are born on this day, I will remember your birthday, if not, too bad for you. PS for the record- the OR DOES NOT LOOK ANYTHING LIKE THE OR IN GREY’S ANATOMY.

In June, I traveled to La Jolla to visit my brain-tumor specialist & figured while I was down there, I might as well do my 6^th half marathon.

In August, I was going to have the opportunity to get drilled again, & as much as some girls are eager to get drilled, I passed.

Christmas came early, & in the fall, I was promoted to Associate Producer. Fall was also filled with imbibing & not enough running. Coupled with good eating, I added another 7 pounds… This was all a subconscious need to put on extra weight in case I had to get on chemo. Well, that’s the lie I’m telling myself.

I started dating! I’m really dating to lose weight. My December 9, 2011 MRI shows the tumor is shrinking. I’ve got the tumor on the run! I better start really getting some running mileage so I can keep this tumor & my waistline shrinking.

I do not want my new route to Burbank to overshadow darling rescue cat Robert, who has been busy growing 6 inch whiskers when he’s not busy taking gargantuan naps. He & I are both busy getting advanced degrees in how to speak the ancient language of Podling & often spend many a quiet evening doing so.  We are looking to travel in 2012 & use this in our encounters with other felines.

Robert says “hello.” We both hope you have a very Merry Christmas.

Love & kisses forever.

Sarah and Robert

Half Marathon Minus 11 Weeks

Gosh. When you talk about having a half marathon on February 19, it seems so far away. There are so many things to get through, Christmas, New Year’s, Martin Luther King Jr Day, Super Bowl Sunday, Valentine’s Day.  There are friends, work, and countless pet projects. THERE ARE ALSO 11 WEEKS UNTIL I LINE MY TOES UP TO THE START LINE of the Rock n Roll Pasadena Half Marathon.

I cannot find the name of the project and/or artist, but this
was on the website Close

I got a cold that put me on the sidelines last week (also known as Week One of my training). Now, I am a week behind. I don’t even have a cool story of why I stopped or why I got sick. I simply got sick. While frustrating, it’s easier and almost a badge of honor to say, “well, I was training so hard, my immune system became depleted” or “I was training so hard, I needed some rest” Anything is better than saying, “I got one of those holiday bugs because my body recognized it was okay to relax.” NO. It’s not time to relax IT’S TIME TO GET BUSY WITH TRAINING.

Now, there are other obligations that interfere with being a diligent runner like holiday parties and like travel to San Diego for my next MRI. Sure, one can do a half marathon with minimal training, but I need to finish and I need to finish strong for my own ego.  I cannot have a repeat of October.  I have been advised not to chase a PR and just have fun with the journey. As I’ve seen with friends and one running buddy in particular, he did not chase a PR, he simply had fun with training, got bad sleep the week before the race and still managed to knock 10 minutes off of his half marathon! Pretty impressive. While I likely won’t use his training paradigm, it is a good reminder to just get out there and run. I’m a little competitive and am secretly (or not so secretly) chasing that PR.

This week marks 11 weeks until race day. I’m going to pretend like I ran last week and do what I can with the schedule considered that I have the holidays pulling me in a million directions. Despite the frustration of being waylaid by all this, I am eternally grateful that I am here to be enjoying the festivities and that I can enjoy them as much as possible.  Until Friday, I am resting in the confidence that as my neuro-specialist says, “there’s a lot of room for (residual tumor) growth.”

13 of 1 OR Half of Another…

“It's not about how fast you go. It's not about how far you go. It's a process.” - Amby Burfoot, The Runner's Guide to the Meaning of Life

I’m a multi-tasker; I can’t help myself.  If I can do one thing, but add another activity to either enhance the primary activity or cut down on the time it will take me to do activity #2, I’ll do it. This is how I ended up completing my 3^rd post-op MRI and 6^th Half-Marathon in the same weekend. I figured since I was already in San Diego county for my MRI, I might as well do a half-marathon.

With every race, you learn something. Part of my lesson is- I will never again say, “just a half-marathon.”



A best friend, Rachel- Who has been
with me nearly every step of the way,
from the ER to the half-marathon.

I knew I couldn’t set a PR (Personal Record) at this race, but I did this race to prove something to myself- that I have more power over my life than my brain tumor.  My realistic goal was sub 3 hours; I figured with a little pushing this would be possible. To make sure I didn’t focus on time, I left my Garmin at home.  At Mile 8, my feet felt bruised and at mile 8.5 my hip-flexors were sore. Somewhere in there, a girl passed me wearing a Philippians 4:13 shirt.  (This happens to be a friend's go-to Bible passage for when things get rough and on his first run back after the his difficult marathon, we did a 10-miler together and he shared this with me.) My body still ached but I pressed on. The bands nearly every mile fed some energy to me and the other runners, but the stretch along the sloped 163 was void of crowds and bands. I buckled down and sang from a song another friend burned for me  “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ ‘Till You See What God Can Do…”  It has helped with just the normal healing process and helped here to get through the less eccentric areas of the race. 

There were portions of the race where I just couldn’t run, and hobbling several yards was the best I could do. From mile 10 to mile13.1, each mile was 3 min slower than my starting pace, which was slower still than my old training pace.

I am not a gifted athlete. I love what I do and I try really hard.  My found love of long-distance running is what made me a great patient and helped with my initial recovery. I’m not going to set the world on fire with my pace, but I will always be grateful that I can put one foot in front of the other and run 13.1 miles (especially on 6 months post-op).  

It’s not “just a half;” it’s a journey. It’s a journey that took me 2:50:00 to complete and a heck of a lot of post-race Ben Gay.