Running Code 3

They say that there’s always a first time for everything. They also say that in running or racing DNF trumps DNS. Yeah, well, for the first time EVER, I DNS’d my first race. Not just any race, but my very first and only marathon of the year, The California International Marathon. Sucks.

It wasn’t intentional. I had signed up in June after collaboratins with my girlfriend, Judy. We were going to run as we did last year – just for fun, train together, etc. Well, when we weren’t looking December came upon us quickly. I mean really fast. We hadn’t seriously trained, but we were going to run anyway.

The week of prior to the marathon, the weather was wet … Rain storm after rain storm, and it was wet all over. No biggie, we’d done this before, Judy and I.  We carefully watched the weather reports and knew that there was no getting around it, it was going to be a cold and wet run. So we prepped.

On Friday we became indecisive. I was iffy, Judy was iffy. We were sure that we would do it one minute, then unsure the next. I had Chris take me to packet pick up on Friday. We had a good time at the expo, hitting all the vendors. I got a cute outfit, played games, got free stuff …

On Saturday Judy bailed. She told me that she hadn’t trained and the weather was not the best. I wanted to bail too, but my husband knows me. He told me that I was going to run regardless because I wasn’t one to give up. So … I relented. I was going to run, even if I ran alone. So I went out – I picked up some Shot Blox at Sports Authority, then since I had joked that I would run with a floatie and goggles, we hit the pool supply store where Chris was able to find me a flotation device and some goggles. It was while we were at the pool supply store that our Suburban died. It literally died. It would not start. We had to call for a tow truck and for our son to pick us up and take us home. It was then that my fate for running CIM was decided for me. I would not run. It was as if my car knew that my heart was not set on running it, and it stopped running right then and there as if to say, “Row., you know you don’t want to do it, so don’t.” So I took it as my sign. My friends bailed, I was indecisive, and then my car died …

I had never DNS’d a race. I’ve run races while sick, while injured, with a poor attitude.  I’ve run in inclement weather – scorching hot, and even pouring down Tusnami like weather. This wasn’t an issue, but I really didn’t have my heart set on running. It sucked to make that decision, but I truly believe that it was the right decision for me. Let me tell you though, I felt somewhat sick. I felt as if disapproving, judgmental eyes were staring me down, looking at me, shaking their heads and thinking that I was a wimp. I am not a wimp. I don’t care what other people think, but it’s funny that I would automatically believe that people were talking about me.  In my head, for a few moments, I had visions and heard voices of what people were thinking and saying. Just for a moment. I had to remind myself that these people were probably not even thinking about me, that I was just making things up in my head. It was just for a short moment, but for that moment it stung a little and it hurt.  I’m a strong woman, and I’m not a quitter, but I’m also human and I have to admit that it did hurt, but it wasn’t to be, I was not supposed to run that race. I had to remind myself that this may not be the one and only time that I DNS a race. I had to remind myself that I had many more races to run. This may have been the first, but it may not be the last … so I best just learn to go with the flow and be easier on myself. A DNS does not define who I am. Life goes on … I just have to keep moving forward …

I ache.  Everyday, I ache.  I’m sore all the time, everywhere.  My legs hurt.  Hurts to walk. Hurts to sit. Hurts to stand.  My shoulders hurt at times – sometimes to the point where I cannot even brush my own hair or lift my arms overhead.  My stomach aches.  I am constantly in a state of “pain,” it’s mostly acute, but it’s so often that it could be chronic. Listening to me, I sound like an old lady with a bunch of aches and pains.  Just me reading this description makes me think of an old lady with chronic ailments, and I laugh.  I’m talking about myself though.  I relish in my body’s soreness.  I would only rate my stiffness and soreness a 1-2 on a 0-10 pain scale.  I don’t complain about how slow I move because I am moving, and in reality, I don’t move slow at all.

I am a nurse.  I’ve seen and cared for people who come into the ER with complaints of “chronic pain.”  It’s mostly women who come in, late 20’s, early 30’s or 40’s, who have generalized body pain, tenderness to their joints, muscles, tendons, and what not.  These women always have chronic body aches and stiffness, and most times they also have chronic migraine headaches, and even depression. It’s so bad at times for these women that they are not able to function – they can’t take care of their families, nor can they go to work, and at times cannot even take care of themselves.  It’s so sad to watch these women come into the ER accompanied by their young children who appear to be taking care of their mother.  That’s the hardest part for me.

Here is what I can tell you though … The women that I have been taking care of, who come into the ER ALL THE TIME, we call them “frequent flyers,” “repeaters,” and other things like that.  I can tell you that these women are getting younger, and YOUNGER … Seriously, the youngest I have cared for so far has been 15 years old.  FIFTEEN!!!  These women know how to put up a very LOUD fuss – at times sounding like a cross between a laboring or actively dying cow, and I don’t know what.  They’re allergic to every medication except for certain “special” narcotics and anti-emetics.  And it’s sad.  Sad because we in the medical profession know that there is a diagnosis that Doctors give to their patients when they don’t know what the fuck is wrong with them!  It’s a joke to us.  Seriously, it’s a bullshit diagnosis.  Don’t get me wrong, there may well be something “wrong” with these patients, however, we just don’t know what it is. It drives me beyond crazy to medicate these individuals with some hardcore narcotics.  There is NO medication in the world that can cure these individuals.  Some of these women demand, DEMAND narcotic doses that would kill a horse!

Now … Let me tell you about me … I am a 40 something year old woman who is always in some kind of pain.  Seriously, not a day has gone by since the day that I was born that I can remember waking up completely pain free.  Well, okay, maybe since I was in 4th grade, not since birth. I am an athlete and everyday some part of my body aches.  My shoulders from doing shoulder presses.  My chest from push-ups.  My glutes and hammies from squats, squats, and even more squats.  My legs in general from running.  I have had really bad plantar fascitis so my feet hurt or ache.

There are days when I cringe to just even brush my hair or teeth, or walk slower than normal and look “funny” doing so.  Some days it hurts to sit, or hurts to stand.  Something – always something.  But what do I do about these aches and pains? Nothing.  99% of the time, I do nothing.  Okay, okay … I use a lot of ice and Biofreeze or Ben Gay.  On a rare occasion, I will take a Tylenol or a couple Motrins.  But most days, I do NOTHING … I suck it up and keep moving.  I still take care of my family.  I still go to work. And … AND I still go and workout, regardless.  I will workout thru pain.  I push my little body quite hard.  I push it so hard and expect so much from it.  I am seriously thankful that my little body can take quite a beatin’ and continue to support me everyday.  My little body is STRONG!  It’s rewards? Well, now instead of doughy, sugary treats such as a donut or cake that I would really enjoy … I remind my little body that it’s rewards are the thighs that don’t rub together to try and start a fire, or the shoulders that are shapely, the calves that are TDF (to die for), and a body that’s going to last me for a very LONG time.  I remind my body that it is healthy and strong, much healthier and stronger than so many young people.  I remind my body that it is rewarded with an occasional massage, monthly Chiropractic visits to my

favorite Chiropractor, and weekly visits to my Accupuncturist. I live with “chronic” pain – mostly in the form of Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness (DOMS), and minor annoying injuries.  It’s all in my head.  All of it.  I do this to myself.  I do it because I like this kind of self-torture.  I love the feeling that my muscles are sore and tore up.  I do it because it actually makes me feel alive. Call me a masochist, it’s okay.

So … I guess if I whined enough, I could sound like a woman with “chronic pain syndrome.” I have some empathy for these women.  I know it’s not fair or even nice to compare myself with someone who is “sick” when here I am with my crazy aches and pains.  I mean, I would not know what to do with myself if I physically were debilitated to the point where I could not workout, or move, or do anything except lay there.  I would fall into a deep depression.  I would feel somewhat suicidal.  I would feel sick – possibly so sick that it would cause me to be even sicker.  I workout as an outlet for myself.  I workout to keep my body in good condition.  I workout to look good, feel good, to be able to eat what I wish.  I do not wish sickness or disease on anyone … I sometimes wonder how these women got to the point where they can no longer function.  They cringe at me when I suggest exercise to help them, and they literally cringe and balk at the mere suggestion of a short walk.  It’s quite amusing and very frustrating at the same time because I feel as if I’m wasting my breath as they seem to like their life as it is.  They must be getting something from it.  It’s as if they have given up on themselves and  on life in general.  I refuse to be one of those people. I would never wish this painful life on anyone, ever.

I really have no words of wisdom for anyone.  I was just sitting here in an ER full of patients whose complaints were “Generalized All Over Body Aches” when I was aching and could barely move without cringing myself.  Then I thanked God that I was achy, that I could feel, that I had feeling in my limbs, that I could run, jump, lift, push, pull, punch, kick … because it means that I am alive and moving. Here’s my prescription for you …

**It’s not my intent to hurt anyone’s feeling, or to demean anyone because of their chronic pain.  I truly do have empathy for people, and as I said, I would never, NEVER wish this on anyone.  In all seriousness, I do understand, and I do only wish health and happiness for all of my patients. If I have offended you, I apologize wholeheartedly.**