Be Careful!

I thought I broke my foot this weekend. So stupid. I slipped on a step that was wet. The top of my foot smashed onto the step. I swore really loud and then crashed down. I sat there for a minute to terrified to wiggle my toes for fear that they wouldn't wiggle. The pain was terrible. After a minute I looked at the top of my foot, it was bright red and starting to swell. I was so pissed off. I stood up and went into my house. I immediately put ice on it. And soon enough I was fine. I bruised the hell out of it, but it was fine. Not broken. I cannot even describe how angry I was. To think that I could have broken my foot... I can't even think about it anymore.

I had a wonderful weekend otherwise. Did more walking around and enjoying the beautiful summer weather. Molly is camping so I took it easy. I couldn't put on my running shoes, my foot was still swollen, tonight perhaps. If anything I'll just ride and swim for the next couple of days. It will be fine though. I'm still pissed at myself. I wasn't paying attention.

Today is my 33rd birthday. I feel like I'll be entering the next year of my life in better shape, mentally and physically than I've ever been in. I have so many people to thank. I couldn't be happier. This event is coming at the most perfect time in my life and I'm glad that I can share the experience with those that I love. I've made some new friends along the way. I am one lucky girl.

Where have you been

Its finally happened. I am no longer obsessing over this race. I have no idea why, but it was like a wave of relief washed over me and I now feel almost ambivalent. Maybe that's too strong of a word to use, but that's how I feel. With fifteen days left before the race I am calm, cool, and collected. Now I realize that this could all turn against me with a raging case of vomiting and anxiety next week, I'm currently enjoying this state of euphoria.

Molly is going camping this weekend up in the Boundary Waters. She's bringing a wetsuit with her so that she can try swimming in Lake Superior. I pray that someone takes a picture of THAT!

I hope that everyone has enjoyed this blog. I doubt I will keep it up after the race. Maybe I'll start another one. I've already been thinking about my post-race workout routine. I should start doing yoga, and being nicer to my body. But I will say that this morning I was paid the greatest compliment. I ran into someone that I haven't seen in almost ten years. A nice guy who used to live above Muddy Waters when I did. He first told me how great I looked and then told me that I haven't aged a bit, in fact I look younger now than I did back then. Bullshit or not, it was really nice to hear.

Informational Run

Last night was a mixed bad. I couldn't swim because my shoulder is hurting too much and Pete thinks that I should swim tonight either. It was quite annoying. I did however go for a run with Marie. It was like old times, except I don't run quite as slow. It was a good opportunity to ask her (or rather grill her) questions about the Ironman. Everything from what she's going to wear, bathroom breaks, running strategy. It was quite informational really.

It was supposed to be much hotter than it was and it made for a much better run than the night before. Molly still swam last night. I went down to the beach to watch her and Pete swim. It was nice actually. Peaceful.

Running in the Heat

We've all heard horror stories about over-heating and dehydration when people do some sort of strenuous activity outside. Yesterday was one of those days. The temperature teetered between 94 and 98 degrees, and that was at 6pm. Molly and I headed out for our run, having chosen a path that was well shaded, we went slow. After about 2 1/2 miles we were both dying. We stopped for some water and used a restroom and then headed out again. We both knew it was bad when we were both seeing spots. So we stopped. We turned around and walked home. Of all the crazy things we do, all the ways we push ourselves, we aren't stupid. Maybe it was stupid to even attempt the run in the first place. But I know that turning around was smart. I was tired last night too, it took a lot out of me, way more than I would have expected.

Molly is swimming tonight and I am so jealous. My shoulder is just too sore to swim. So tonight I'm going for a run with Marie, which scares me a little, but it will be like doing a speed workout.

Swimmers

19 Days.

As I get closer to race day I feel like I'm spending more time reflecting on the last few months. I'm ready for this, terrified, but ready. I'm so glad that in February, Molly asked if I wanted to do this with her. The support that I've received has been so incredible, I cannot thank everyone enough. I've far exceeded my fundraising minimum of $2200, and then exceeded my personal goal of $3000. But none of this money is about me. None of it, the training, the fundraising, is about me. Every mile run, peddle turned, stroke swam, is about finding a cure and helping people living with a blood cancer and their families.

This weekend Molly and I did another mock-tri, nothing like overcompensating. But I think we did well. I'm still sore today, or at least my shoulder is. I need to take it easy on this shoulder and not push it so hard. I'm confident in my ability to swim the distance, so laying off a bit will probably do me some good. I do need to focus on my running a bit more. I'm just not a strong runner and that makes me nervous. When I run with Molly I feel like I'm holding her back, which frustrates me and getting frustrated only makes it more difficult.

I'm so excited to see my brother Matt and his wife Shellie in July and of course Maggie and Jay. We are going to have such a great time.

I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend. I wanted to give a shout out to my man Bret Wilson - who's summer race schedule includes: one Olympic distance Tri, two Half-Ironman Tris and one full Ironman.

$3000 Raised for LLS

...and it won't stop until a cure is found.

We're doing it again!

First of all, last night's spin was extra amazing because Molly was able to join me. At this point its almost comical because there were about five people in the class, but hey, I'll keep going as long as they keep having the class. I see Molly more than anyone, but we don't really ever get a chance to hang out. I'm really looking forward to the two of us having a drink and eating nachos or something. Doesn't that sound good?

We decided to do another mock-tri tomorrow morning. We're going to add some distance to the swim and to the run. It should be fun. I'm hoping that Pete will come out again and hang out by our stuff, and maybe take a couple of pictures. He took quite a few last weekend, but my ego is too delicate and I couldn't post them all.

Twenty two days to go. I can do this. I can. Why? Because I've committed myself to it and to raising money for LLS.

An estimated 138,530 people in the United States will be diagnosed with leukemia, lymphoma or myeloma in 2008. New cases of leukemia, Hodgkin and non-Hodgkin lymphoma and myeloma account for 9.6 percent of the 1,437,180* new cancer cases diagnosed in the United States this year.

*Source: Surveillance, Epidemiology and End Results (SEER) Program 1975-2005, National Cancer Institute, 2008.

And the reality check is that Leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma will cause the deaths of an estimated 52,910 people in the United States this year. These blood cancers will account for nearly 9.4 percent of the deaths from cancer in 2008 based on the 565,650 total cancer-related deaths.

Every ten minutes, another child or adult is expected to die from leukemia, lymphoma or myeloma. This statistic represents nearly 145 people each day, or six people every hour.

Leukemia causes more deaths than any other cancer among children and young adults under the age of 20.

How Is It Wednesday Already?

I kept meaning to write about the Sprint-distance triathlon that Molly and I went to on Sunday. It was in White Bear Lake. We both thought it would be a good idea to just go watch an event. It was a beautiful morning for a race. What I think was most beneficial was standing near the transition zone, where racers changed their gear for each event. The one thing that I can say with absolute certainty about all racers is that no one transitions gracefully. For most it looked like quite a disaster, but they all got the job done.

Transitions can be tough because you have to perform a multitude of tasks in very little time, heart bounding, likely out of breath, and more than likely you have family cheering you on from the other side of the fence. Its quite nauseating to think about really. Before the race each person gets a spot in which to set up their gear. Among the things that people will have:

Transition 1 (after the swim, getting ready for the bike):

1. bike (which has at least one water bottle on it)

2. helmet

3. gloves

4. sunglasses

5. cycling shoes (snazzy people have the shoes on the bike already, I won't because I will fall down)

6. water bottle or tub of water to rinse feet after the swim, they're pretty sandy at this point

7. towel to dry off your feet before putting your socks on

8. socks are optional. I'm going to trying doing a couple of rides without them to see how comfortable it is. Apparently tossing some baby powder in your shoes before hand really makes a difference...

9. Eat an energy bar or something

Holy crap, that's a lot of stuff for just one transition. Most importantly you have to remember your helmet. If you leave the transition zone without a helmet on you are immediately beaten to death. Oh no, wait, we're not gladiators, but you will be disqualified from the whole race.

Transition 2 (from bike to run)

1. Take all your bike gear off

2. Running shoes

3. Hat

4. Sunglasses

5. Race belt

6. Eat some energy Gu

Then you have to try and run. This is the best/worst part. Its pretty damn funny to me. As soon as I get off my bike and try to run my legs are like spaghetti. And to watch other people to it, well, that's just entertainment. See, I can laugh because I'll be doing it myself. Like I said, you have to change in and out of all of this stuff and more than likely people will be cheering you on from the sidelines. So you try and smile and look like you're doing great!

For Molly and I to watch another event, one that was completely unrelated to ours, was important. We could talk through what people where doing and think about how we wanted to handle our own. It was very smart.

Let's see. Sunday, after we watched that tri, Molly and I did a short run that just about killed me. I was either too dehydrated or needed to recover from doing our own sprint-distance the day before. Monday night we did an open water swim with a small group of TNTers. It was great. I really need to work on spotting. Spotting is when a swimmer looks up every 5 or so strokes to see where they're going. Not such a bad thing to practice...

Last night was great. Marie (my Ironman woman) came to the pool and swam with Pete and I. She's kicks ass. Pete was going to watch her swimming and give her some tips... but said afterward how well she did and that her swimming was excellent. You rock Marie!

Thanks Coach Bob!

Last night was our second open water swim. Bob, a TNT coach was nice enough to make last night an unscheduled group swim night in Nokomis. I was actually surprise that more people didn't show up, but the eight or so that did, got so much out of it. We swam the same course that we did on Saturday, sans the panic and rush of a mock-tri. We worked on several strokes, sighting, and just being comfortable in the open water. It was a ton of fun.

I love swimming in the open water. Drop me in the middle of the ocean and I'll be happy. I could just float on my back for hours if I could. But a controlled swim with a million other people in the water can be unnerving for some people.

Next weekend Molly and I are talking about doing another mock-tri just on our own, same course, but just the two of us. I think its a good idea.

If I Could Take My Arm Off...

Yes, if I could take my left arm off right now I would. Swimming tonight was awesome, but I am in P.A.I.N right now. I can never remember how far I go (I'll ask Pete) but I do know that I went further than the distance of the triathlon (.93 miles) in 35 +/- minutes... which is for me good. Having no sense of how long this will take me, 35 minutes seems completely reasonable. After ice and much needed ibuprofen (which I just spelled correctly on the first try!), I am feeling a bit better. I'm still doing my physical therapy exercises to keep my shoulder strong, or better yet, make it stronger. But I'm impatient damn it, if you haven't noticed.

As of tomorrow, there's only one month left to go. I am so excited at this point and amazingly I'm not freaking out about the race. I feel strong and ready. Of course I say that now. The evening of July 10th I'll be peeing my pants for sure. But right now I feel good.

I also wanted to give a shout out (can you "shout out" in a blog?) to Marie, my Ironman-girl. Last weekend she did a brick that consisted of a sixty-mile ride and a three-mile run. That just sounds terrible. Here I was thinking I was tough shit doing a 25/3 brick. This girl is going to kick ass in the fall and I will be there to see it. She's working so hard and I couldn't be more proud of her. I'd love to go running with her, but its really embarrassing getting lapped around one of these city lakes.

Bob's Story

Thanks Mom for sharing this story...

In 1965 Bob Masson, my husband of only two years, was diagnosed with Leukemia. He was twenty-seven years old.

Bob was the youngest of four brothers. He loved old cars; one that he especially adored was a 1925 Chevrolet in perfect condition that he paid $200 for. He loved Harley motorcycles and taught me to love them too. He liked to cook, especially Italian dishes and he was very good at it too, coming from an Italian family. In the late 1950’s he was in the Army, stationed in Germany near the Berlin Wall. I remember him saying what a difficult time it was for him.

Bob owned a car repair and paint shop, employing 10 men. He was very proud of this business. I distinctly remember that whenever I entered the shop all the foul language had to cease because he wouldn’t allow anyone to curse or swear in my presence - his wife’s presence.

To tell you the truth, I had no idea what Leukemia even was, other than some terrible illness. We put our faith in the doctors, that they could find a cure for him. In the early 60's no one talked so openly about the Big C. Families might have talked about it because they were directly affected, as all families are in this situation.

Bob and I had faith that the doctors were doing everything they could. Research was being done in a Boston hospital and they asked for blood and tissue samples for their research. We agreed and from the Veteran’s Hospital where Bob was a patient, these researchers came and talked with us. I know that these doctors did everything they could to save his life.

After a month of all kinds of tests, we were told by our doctors he had very rare form of Leukemia with the possibility of only six months to live. Shock and devastation set in.

Bob lived for another two years. The doctors were very surprised because only the elderly were known to get this form of Leukemia. To tell you the truth, I had no idea what Leukemia was. We put our faith in the doctors, that they could cure him. In the early 60’s no one talked so openly about the Big C. Families talked about it but it was a private family matter.

Bob and I had faith that the doctors were doing everything they could. Research was being done in a Boston hospital and they asked for Blood and Tissue samples for their research. We agreed and from the Veteran’s Hospital where Bob was a patient, these researchers came and talked with us. I know that these doctors did everything they could to save his life.

Bob lived to see his twenty-ninth year. He lived two years longer than expected. Throughout his illness we both had hope that researchers and doctors would find something that would cure him. We never gave up hope. I have faith that from Bob’s donations of blood the research moved that much closer to a cure.

Eventually, Bob had to stop working and I became the breadwinner. I worked third-shift in a factory, lifting 19 lb TV tubes from one conveyer belt to another. This gave me time in the day and early evening hours to be with him. It was difficult for him to see how his illness took its toll on me. I lost weight and had dark shadows under my eyes all the time. Despite his illness he never stopped being concerned for me and my wellbeing.

I can’t tell you how frightened, scared and overwhelmed I was throughout Bob’s illness, watching this once strong energetic man, waste away. We, the survivors, have to be strong and somewhere we do find the strength, be it faith, family and/or friends to go on, and so I did. With me during those traumatic years, were my mother and a few good friends, like Harv and Nancy.

The anguish and pain has disappeared over the years, but the memories of that wonderful man never will. Every year since Bob’s death, I have donated to this research knowing; someday they will find a cure.

It gives me such pride and inner joy that my daughter Jenny is actively doing something to aid in this research, not only for her friend Molly and her cousin Jay but for all whose lives are affected by this disease. Thanks to all who have donated for such a worthy cause. This CAN and WILL BE DEFEATED!

Jenny’s mother – Bonnie (Masson) Halstead

Ah the YWCA

I love the Y, I really do. Last night was a bit of a test though. The pool was so packed that at one point three of us were sharing a lane. Doesn't sound like much fun does it? I have to remind myself however, that the swim portion on of this triathlon, well, let's just say its going to be a little bit more packed.

Actually as soon as I start thinking about the swim portion of the event I think of Maine fishermen. You know what I mean. Big burly men out fishing in the cold Atlantic. Ice is freezing to their beards and a soggy cigar is hanging out of the side of their mouth. They pull up a huge net filled with all kinds of fish, smashed together - gills flexing for oxygen but getting no real breath. The net opens and fish drop - heavy to the floor of the boat. Within an instant all of the fish are flopping about. Some jumping high in the air only to land in the same place, fated to flop desperately amongst the other fish. Well, that's me, swimming in a triathlon.

It was a good swim though. I feel strong and ready to do this thing that I've set out to do. Deep breath, count to ten, exhale. I'm ready. Thirty-two days to go.

Ever feel like doing more?

We can always do more, for instance - think about becoming a bone marrow donor.

Join the Be The Match Registry^SM today. All registration fees and matching kit fees are waived June 8- 22. Become part of every patient's search for a bone marrow donor. You could be the one to save a life.

http://www.marrow.org/HELP/Events/Marrowthon2009/index.html

I registered today.

Cannon Valley Trail

I shouldn't even talk about Saturday's run. It was a total joke. Molly couldn't run with me so I was on my own. The weather was crappy; very cold and raining and I just pussed out and couldn't run outside. So I went to the gym and jumped on a treadmill. Boy, was that a bad idea. A million years ago in this blog I wrote about going from running on a treadmill to running outside and how different it was. Well, that statement still stands. I ran for about twenty miles, a very frustrating twenty minutes. I did two miles on this dang treadmill and tried the hell to get the most out of it. I increased my stride, I increased the incline, nothing I did made it feel like I was running. I did sweat buckets though. I think that's the illusion that you're getting a workout on a treadmill. Every sweats like crazy because there isn't any air moving. It looks like your busting your ass. I got off the treadmill and ran around the track for a bit. At this point I was too annoyed and just stopped.

Sunday morning Molly and I drove town to Cannon Falls for a gorgeous forty-mile ride along the Cannon Valley Trail. This was just beautiful. We've had rain for the last few days but Sunday was just damp, no rain. Everything was really bursting with color.

The wildflowers along the trail were just beautiful. We'd come across other riders every now and then, but overall it was just us. Talking away. The other riders that we did see were so nice. Every single one of them said good morning, and they all smiled. It was really nice. I won't talk about how on the drive down we missed our first exit or when we started riding on the trail we went two miles out of the way because we started following the wrong trail, you don't need to hear about that. It was a great ride and I'm really looking forward riding it again. There were all kinds of great things to see along the trail... like the burned out trailer that I just had to take a picture of. I made Molly stand in front of the trailer and as I took the picture this woman walked by and said "Now why would you want a picture of that?" I just thought it was cool, but Molly said something like "So we can remember what we did." Which to me made it sound like we burned down the trailer. Just an odd moment.

The ride home from Cannon Falls was so great. We were absolutely pooped. We rode hard and it felt great. But what felt even better was that Molly made almond butter and jelly sandwiches for the ride home. I think everyone can agree that a sandwich always tastes better when someone else makes it for you, and this was absolutely the case. I was so hungry I could have eaten my shoe. That was the best sandwich ever.

All in all it was a great weekend. Next weekend we do our first mock-tri with the TNT group. For now I'll just do my regular training for the week and try to keep the swearing to a minimum.

So close I can almost smell it.

I kept staring at the calendar this morning. Counting down the days. My OCD is kicking in apparently. I have to stop.

Spin class was awesome last night. At first I thought it was going to be a private lesson, just the instructor and me, but three other people ended up strolling in. It was quite nice. I know it must seem odd, now that its so nice out, that I am still doing one spin class a week. Really its one of the best workouts I get. I can push myself harder in spin class than I can outside on the bike. And our outside rides are long, while this is 45 minutes of beating the sh*t out of myself. I love it.

I won't be able to run with Molly on Saturday so I'm going to try and do a big run by myself. I'm such a wuss. I hate running alone. Boo hoo, poor me. But Sunday! I can't wait for Sunday. We're doing a trail along the Cannon River, twenty miles out and twenty back. I'll try to remember to take some pictures with my phone or something. That will be a great day to write about.

Have a great weekend everyone and thanks again for the continued support!

The Swimming Gazelle

Last night's training went great. I'm pretty sore today and my shoulder hurts, but the training was awesome. I did a little two mile run that included several intervals of sprints. I am NOT a sprinter. Being a grand height of 5'2" on a good day, these little legs do not go very fast. From an outside perspective it probably didn't even look like I was sprinting. I tried to imagine that I was a gazelle, with long lean legs that could bound at lightening speeds. I was alone and therefore definitely looked a little crazy and or possible a little special as I did it. But it was fun.

About an hour after my run I did the same thing in the water. No, I did not pretend that I was a swimming gazelle, that's just silly. I did do sprints though. I swam my ass off in fact. 25 meter sprints I do really well. I haul ass and can keep my speed up. But when I have to do 50 meter sprints, that's well I die. About mid-way through I completely lose my energy and I feel like I'm swimming through oatmeal. It doesn't matter really, because I'm still moving and getting in a great workout. I'm paying for it a little today. But it was totally worth it.

I don't know if I spend more time thinking about this event than other people do. I keep a blog, I send out monthly letters to people who have contributed to me, I talk about it all the dang time, but I think that a lot of my fellow TNTers think about the event as much as me, if not more. I do see both sides of this coin. The one side is training and the other side is fundraising. And while I reached my fundraising minimum a while ago, I won't stop until race day.

Every time someone pledges me I get to learn about that person in a way I wouldn't otherwise get to. Everyone has been touched my cancer. Actually, touched is the wrong word. Everyone has been smacked in the head, punched in the gut, pushed flat on their face by cancer in one way or another. And it pisses me off. So, I will continue to train, continue to tell people about what I'm doing and I will continue to fundraise, because what else can I do?

I wanted to thank my friend Mandy today for sharing the story of her friend's dad who has Mesothelioma. This form of cancer that is almost always caused by exposure to asbestos. He has traveled far from home for treatment and today, right now, is waiting for the doctors to decide what his next course of treatment will be. My thoughts are with him and his family.

One Word

You know what really sucks? It sucks that there is an actual dictionary of cancer terms: http://www.cancer.gov/dictionary/. That's right people. With all of the amazing innovations that happen daily around the world, we still have not found a cure for cancer. If you click the link above you'll find that in section 'A' there are 511 terms listed. In section 'A' alone! My hope is that some day there is only one word in that dictionary: Cure.

Plaster Point

What a great night! Last night was the first time I really felt like a swimmer. Pete is such a good coach and I'm still amazed at how far I've come since February. I'll have to ask him to remind me how far I swam last night, all I know was that it was over a mile in less than an hour. Prior to this training my swimming was strong, but I'd never taken a lesson before. I didn't know how to do the freestyle stroke, or even how to breath while doing it. I could tread water for hours, but didn't know a single proper stroke. Now when I swim it feels natural, strong and I know that I'm getting faster. I really think that after this whole triathlon-hoopla I might keep swimming... I really like it. Plus who doesn't look smashing in a swim cap and goggles?

One of my earliest memories of swimming is at the family camp on Cayuga Lake in Upstate New York off of Plaster Point. I remember being in the water there as much as I remember being out of the water. We'd swim out the raft from the dock, climb up and either dive or cannon-ball off the raft. I never remember wearing swimming armie-things, I just always remember being able to swim. Always loving the water and never being afraid of it. We'd sit patiently after meals, waiting forty-five minutes, before we'd race back down to the water.

My cousin Maggie and her family were a huge part of those memories. Her father was in the military and so they traveled a lot, moving from one country to the next. But I knew that in the summer I would see her at the camp. I know that we share so many of the same memories about that wonderful place. It makes me so happy that as adults we are doing things to make sure we stay connected. With her and Jay coming out for my race, it only makes those memories more special, realizing how far we've come and how much we've grown up. Its a pretty special feeling.