Saying a goodbye, and starting over.

Since I last blogged, and I was on the road to the Disney Princess half marathon, lots has happened.

My mom was in the hospital at the time, and she went home, and I spent sometime with her, took her to chemo, etc.  Just did the things you do when you have a family member dealing with cancer.  You help.

Spring break hit, and my daughter had minor surgery.  Minor, but still it required caregiving.

Shortly after that, I was down for the count for a few days with a  kidney stone.  I kept having that feeling like "I'll start again next week.  I will."  Then I didn't.  I did participate in a 5K to benefit my mother's research clinic at MD Anderson, though I walked with my cousin Britta, and we talked about getting off our asses and training so we could do the Princess Half together.

Then my birthday was coming, and I thought, ok, this is the turning point.  This is it.  I am 37 tomorrow, I'm going to get up and start this again, and I'm going to finish it.  That was April 10.

I got a phone call that night around 10 that my mom had fallen, hurt her leg, and was on the way to the ER.  I joined her there, and as the clock struck midnight and it turned into April 11, my birthday, my mom started to have trouble breathing.

It got pretty serious from there.  Her leg became a secondary concern as her heart and lung distress were the main focus of her care team.  After several days in ICU on a ventilator, she was breathing on her own and deemed stable enough to go ahead with surgery to repair her hip.  The other option was having her lie in a bed with a broken hip... which isn't a good option.  No way to live.  I spent many days and nights with her at the hospital, rotating with family members so we could go home and get some actual sleep.

After the surgery, she landed herself back in ICU, was doing ok.  We fully expected that she'd go home, and I had made plans to move my office there (on a good day in no traffic, 45 minutes from my home) and work from her home several days a week so I could help her, keep her company, and just be there so she wouldn't be alone.  I was ready.  I feared that I might not do a good enough job, but I was ready.  My hope was that once she was back home, her depression would improve, her appetite would come back, and I could nurse her back into a happy place in life.

On April 30, her team of doctors asked the family to sign a "Do Not Resuscitate" order for her, as her condition had declined and would continue to decline.  There was just too much cancer and scar tissue and the whole situation boiled down to this: her body was shutting down.  She was placed in the Acute Palliative Care Unit, so that she could be free of any lines, tubes, and monitors that weren't necessary for her comfort.  We stayed there with her, prayed with her, watched her decline, and hoped that she would die peacefully.

She did.  I was there.  She passed away so simply.

There was crying, funeral planning, staring into space, realization that I was left on earth at the age of 37 with no parents.  There was a lot of staring into space.  A lot of smiling and comforting the people who hadn't been around her for the last 6 months, who had no idea of her rapid decline.  They would hug me and tell me they were sorry, but I knew they were hurting too-- she was their friend.

The day before she died I had a well-woman checkup, complete with bloodwork.  Today I finally spoke with the nurse about my bloodwork, which (no surprise) revealed that I needed to cut the crap and get some exercise.

So raise your glass to starting over.  I feel like I've reached a point in life where I have closed the door on mom's cancer-- something that loomed over us for so long.  Something that sucked time away from us.  Something that kept us chained to a hospital because we didn't want to leave her.

Losing my father to heart attack/obesity/diabetes taught me that I want to be strong and healthy for my children, to not leave them early, to not have them go through the terror and tragedy of *BLAMMO* losing a parent.

Losing my mother to cancer-- but more importantly, being graced by her presence for 15 years when she was "supposed to" make it maybe 18 months-- has taught me the importance of being healthy and keeping your body in a state where it can fight disease to the best of its ability.  In a state where it can handle rough treatments, surgeries, and allow me to come out on top when things happen.

I will start again, and I will not let this be a hinderance to my goals of running that Princess Half Marathon : )

Week 1, Day 2 of C25k.

Finished!  Still definitely a challenge, but I'm happy that my little podcast narrator is sweet and tells me "this is your last run, you can do it!".  Afterward, when I was stretching, I was joined by several mosquitoes.  SERIOUSLY?  YUCK!

I was pretty sore when I woke up yesterday, but it was a good sore, where you know you gave your body a challenge.  It's good to feel like that again : )

Guess what I put on the calendar today?

It's one year from tomorrow!

Disney Princess Prep Day 1: Starting Over!

Life, it's always getting in the way of things.

My mom's in the hospital, my husband is working long hours, and my busy season is about to kick up.  These would be fantastic excuses to not get my butt out there... but they're also really good reasons to get my butt out there.

So this morning, I went ahead and got my butt out there.  I took the little dog too.

I re-started my Couch to 5k program so I can begin preparing to become a runner again.  I liked life when I was a runner!  It gave me something to focus on, some time to myself every couple of days when I had a perfectly good reason to not be in front of a computer (or doing whatever).  I always felt good after finishing a workout-- not necessarily physically fantastically good (there were times I wanted to fall into a pile halfway through), but I always felt accomplished.  The sky's the limit.  There's no "Ok, I'm done!".  You can't "beat the game" when it comes to running.  I slept better.  I was hungry for better things.  There was more "happy" even when there was sad.

Clothes fit beautifully, of course, and I totally wouldn't mind getting to a less flabby Chesty Pear state.

So... today's the first day of the rest of this year.

I used my trusty Robert Ullrey podcast to prompt me when to run and walk... plus I just like his encouraging words.  He knows when you're getting tired and he tells you it's okay, that you can do it.    I don't need a pushy drill seargeant telling me what to do, I need nice Robert.

Pain: My right butt muscle, my right knee, my left leg muscle that goes from my ankle to the back of the knee... all of these body parts were calling my name this morning.  I had a little bit of the side-stomach-cramp starting up near the end of the workout but for the most part, I was able to move past it and feel good.  At the finish, most of the agitation was in the right side of my lower back.  It's tight.  I need to work on it.  It probably has most to do with me slouching in everyday life.  I'm pretty hunchy.  I think it's the boobs.

No equipment failure or techincal difficulties.  The dog behaved alright and didn't go on the death-lunge for too many squirrels.  Right now my cat's sitting on top of my computer mouse, but that's about it for animal interference this morning. 

In honor of my current goal, I wore the mickey mouse shirt I got at Disney this Christmas : )

I have to admit, knowing I was only going about 2 miles today, and knowing that 13.1 miles is a lot further, I'm a little scared of what it'll feel like to be running that far.  I remember how dreadfully far that 10K was last September.  That's less than HALF of a half-marathon.

The way I look at it, I know a lot of runners.  I know a lot of very determined, successful dedicated runners who started out at a point of fitness that's below where I am now.  I know a lot of people who are running long distances RIGHT NOW (this past weekend for instance) who never would have imagined they could do these things... and then they said, "Hey, Kasey can do it... so can I!"

I see them on Facebook.  Theyu're doing incerdible things and changing their lives in such positive ways.  They've stuck with it and reached great goals, so can I.

Here's to the dream ; )

240. Enough.

Four months ago I was blogging about being unmotivated, so it's no surprise that here we are, new year and all, and my scale has hit 240.

I can feel it in my body. Feel it in my thighs, my upper arms, my abs, my back fat. I can see it in my face. I long for the days of 220 when I loved how I felt, I slept better, I just felt happier.

It's completely obvious why this has happened... And it's nobody's fault but mine. I have let other things become a priority over my health.

There are days when I don't even eat a real true serving of fruit or vegetables. I can't really remember the last time I cooked dinner at home. Most of what's in my fridge is leftovers from somewhere we went out to eat for dinner... And I don't even want them.

Even my dog is gaining weight, lol.

Why am I waiting for "tomorrow"?

Clearly I'm capable of this. I've done it before. I know I can do it, but I always find some little excuse to rationalize myself out of it... Here are some great ones:

I'm tired.
What if I start running and my belly fat is too floppy?
What if I look stupid?
What if my shoes don't feel good?
I don't feel like taking the dog, but I feel guilty leaving him at home.
I'm not hydrated enough.
I need to shower, but I don't wanna shower before a run. That's dumb, I'll just have to shower again.
What if I do something and I hurt my back?
I need to check my email first.
What if I run and then I'm too tired to get my work done?
I can't get my gps watch to beep for my intervals. Is too frustrating.

I could go on, but I won't.

Once when I was reading "Runner's World" I saw an ad for the Disney Princess half marathon, and I was so excited I felt my eyes tear up a smidge... It would be so cool to feel all accomplished and empowered AND be with a bunch of cool chicks at Disney World! He'll, it's making me a little misty even now.

Maybe I need a goal.

The next Disney Princess Half Marathon is about a year from now.

This is attainable. I can do this. I deserve to be able to take time to myself 3-4 times a week to exercise, stretch my legs, and work toward something I want. I am strong, I am capable. I will allow myself to put health and fitness above work, and will become a runner again.

Even if my mother is sick, even if someone close to me passes away, even if work is difficult or frustrating, even if I want to keep sleeping, even if the dog is whiny and it's cold/hot/humid/windy... I can do this. The hour or two I will spend on my health each day is important and deserves priority.

I will not allow others to rationalize my skipping a workout. I will not be afraid to run in strange places, or even on vacation.

I will do this, I CAN DO THIS.

Please encourage me.