Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

Archives for August 2007

My pillow

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Friday will quickly be coming to an end and I have yet to write my weekly “positively perfect” post. It’s not that today is a particularly bad day. It’s wasn’t. I just haven’t thought of anything that inspires me to write, and I’ve been trying all day.

I’ve thought that my “trying” all day might be the issue. Writing shouldn’t be that hard, but it is sometimes.

This week I am feeling particularly tired. The week began with a call from Kaiser’s mammography department for a “follow up.” They wanted me to return on the same day. It was both alarming and confusing as my doctor had said that everything was normal.

Well, as it turned out, the need for a follow up appointment was an error. *sigh of relief* I was told, however, to keep the appointment with the surgeon as radiographs don’t always catch malignant lesions. My reason for celebration was premature it would seem.

I am glad that I kept the appointment. The surgeon examined my breast and I pointed out what I was feeling. She said it was normal fibrocystic “ridging.” Then she found what my doctor must have felt. In the past week, I had been puzzled by doctor’s description of a “1/2 cm, hard, mobile lesion” since it was a very different description from what I had felt. What she felt was a sebaceous cyst – which is also not a problem.

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So, you see, it has actually been a good week. It’s been tiring but good. Still, I chose NOT run 20 miles *this* Friday night. It will wait until Sunday even though I am getting my hair done tomorrow and would have liked to keep it looking nice until Monday.

Today I relaxed and decompressed from my week. I even took a nap this afternoon. Since I have been so tired, I have found much comfort in my bed where my pillow is soft and inviting. It is the “positively perfect” item for this week…because I am just so tired.

On Running

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Tuesday morning’s speedwork session was a killer. I tried to keep my mind on only the interval that I was on rather than how many I had left to do. My results were good. Each interval was near, if not within, Coach Jeff‘s pace range.

I ran circles around the girl’s field hockey team who was practicing in the center field. I watched their faces as I passed. They were watching mine.

The girl’s tennis team joined me on the track. Their coach timed them as they ran a mile. Each of my 400 meter interval took me past the entire team. Generally, after I passed their fastest teammate I would end my interval and walk for about 100 yards. Then I would jog the balance of my 200 meter recovery and begin again.

By the time I was starting up my seventh 400 the last teammate was finishing. Her teammates cheered her in. The team gathered by the goal for sprints as I continued on and I heard someone murmur, “dang.”

At the other side of the track the field hockey coach could be heard asking for “150%” from her players. She did her best to motivate the girls to keep up the effort. Often, I took her comments for myself. When their coach said, “Good job,” I said, “Thank you.” I watched the team work when I was in my recovery phase, and visa versa. They finished up just as I began my final 400. Then I ran home for my cool down.

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Birthday Blues

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Today was the actual birthday boy’s Birthday. It’s also another 21st – another month since Tom’s death. I’ve been feeling the coming of the 21st each month. It’s like a wave of awareness of what is different, and of what is missing.

Since I’d invested plenty of fund$ to make Sunday a special celebration for YaYa, I did not have plans for today. No cake, and no presents. Having spent more than my budget allows, I had nothing more to give. That was even with my Mom and Sisters bringing a dish to share at his BBQ.

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DD, Tash, and BoBo did have more to give. Plenty. They spoiled him with a trip to the beach, made him a special dinner, and then showered him with gifts.

While I loved watching YaYa smile and have fun, I feel so inadequate and alone. I wish Tom were here.

Indifference

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In the beginning, it was a battle of wills. I tried to encourage Poncho, my horse for an hour, to pick up the pace. He was cautious and tentative on the downhills (slowing to a near crawl), and was barely moving on the uphills. It’s not as if I weight an excessive amount or anything; he just wasn’t into the ride I thought.

All around us were vineyards and a great open space preserve. It was beautiful and undiscovered. I itched to get off of the horse and run beside it. There was such great running here. I don’t know how or why I’d never discovered it until now.

Up ahead riding his own horse was YaYa the birthday boy. TJ, YaYa’s horse, didn’t always feel his gentle kicks or pull of the reigns, but even he seemed more willing to comply to orders than Poncho. I took a deep breath and tried to remember to enjoy myself. But my horse was like a slower runner who had somehow got mixed in with the elites. The horse behind me was right on Poncho’s tail.

I felt the impatience of those stuck behind me on a single-track trail. I hate being pushed to go faster than I want in this fast-paced world. If we were on the freeway, I’d be changing lanes to get someone off of my tail. The all too familiar anxiety began to ignite within me. Poncho, however, was indifferent to it all.

Riding Poncho made me think of Tom, as if HE was the horse somehow. “What’s the rush? Have patience,” he seemed to say. “Try to enjoy yourself.” It was so familiar, this battle of wills. We’d be late for an event and he’d be dragging his feet in getting out the door, indifferent to my need to be on time. Then we’d get in the car and he would drive faster than I wanted him to in order to make up the time.

As my mind wandered, YaYa and TJ were getting further away. “Our son is out of reach,” I thought, “What if he needed his parents?” Almost on queue, Poncho picked up the pace to a trot (or the next faster gait) until we were right behind YaYa and TJ again. Then he stopped to swat away the flies landing on him. His refusal to move seemed to say, “I can get there if I need to, but I don’t need to.”

Well, Poncho showed me didn’t he. We rode along at a comfortable distance behind. I took in the scenery and waved to the birthday boy up ahead. Poncho kept his own pace and I got used to being a little more indifferent to being the effect of everyone else’s rushed pace. I even let myself enjoy it.

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Takin’ it to the streets

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I’m a little stiff this morning, compliments of another shift in long run scheduling. My low back is probably the stiffest area. I attribute my lack of soreness to having stretched at every red light that stopped my forward movement. I would guess that having my long runs in the double digits for an extended period of time played its part as well.

Last night, when I finally finished off my long run, I was feeling the soreness. As I compared this run to last week’s, however, I was pleased with the difference. It appears that my body has come around in its adjustment to my blood pressure medication. Running with music, and in the cool evening hours helped too.

Although I am guessing that there isn’s a whole lot of folks who go long on Friday nights, it was a nice change for me.

Takin’ it to the streets
I started out just past 4 pm from my front step. The planned distance was 20 miles. I knew that I wouldn’t have time for it all before I’d be due to pick YaYa up from daycare. I had wanted to go earlier but I had to raise a stink at the Women’s Imaging Department regarding a mammogram that appeared to have gone AWOL. By the time I returned from the clinic I needed my run in a bad way.

The stress from the whole breast lump ordeal was now hitting again. I’d been good at finding the positive aspects of the situation all week. The ultrasound had not found anything alarming. I only needed the final mammogram results to confirm that my “lump” was a normal, but different, tissue type. I grabbed myPod for some distraction during my run.

I did not head for the trail. Instead, I ventured out in the opposite direction. The sun shone bright, but there was a cool breeze blowing. I tried to let the music take me, like it used to, but the songs have since been over played. I enjoyed listening, but I remained on my own for pace management. My guess is that Coach would prefer it that way.

The run took me into new territory. It was exciting but felt safe as there was plenty of traffic on the roads. I looped down (off the street) and into a local park for a few miles and then returned in the direction of home to get YaYa.

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