It has taken me almost 2 months to sit down and write my race report for Mt Charleston marathon and this is not that post. I will get to it. But I wanted to write about something else first. I have a lot of different thoughts and emotions going through my head. How do I sum up what it means to me to accomplish a goal...something that is better labeled as a dream and a far fetched one at that...eight years in the making. Eight years ago I started running with a bucket list goal of running a marathon. I also had this crazy idea in my head that I could speed up the damage in my feet caused by rheumatoid arthritis (RA) and convince a doctor to cut my feet off. It was irrational but chronic pain has a way of getting to you so that you aren't necessarily "rational". I honestly had no respect or understanding of endurance running. Over the years my knowledge has grown. I have made a lot of mistakes. I have also gotten smarter and stronger. I share a lot of my experiences publicly and most know my story, if not scroll backwards there are links on this blog to several other articles and race reports back to my 1st sprint triathlon and 1st marathon. My dream of Boston was so much bigger than just overcoming the physical challenges of chronic pain and degeneration. Having something to reach for that was bigger than I could possibly hope to attain kept me going through difficult challenges. Running and reaching for Boston has made me a stronger person. It has made me a better mother, a better wife, a better me. It has given me several opportunities to reach out and share hope and make a difference in other peoples life, often complete strangers. I am humbled and grateful for that opportunity.
When I was training for my 1st marathon my children were young. I ran a lot on the treadmill in the basement so I could have my babies close by. One of my children was facing series health challenges and everything pointed to a brain tumor. It was scary and I was terrified of the uncertainty of what their future held. Running was my therapy. I would run and I could let go of all my fears, sadness and helplessness. I don't cry often but I would get on the treadmill and the sobs would just make their way to the surface. Running gave me a way to let go of all the things I could not control.
Over the years we have faced many challenges and running has continued to sustain me through difficult times. 2016 was a particularly difficult year for us. My child's brain tumor was back. This child was also dealing with some autoimmune and a few other serious health challenges of their own. Once again we were faced with uncertainty and fear not knowing how to help this child with their pain and the challenges they were facing. In January one of my other young teenagers decided that they did not want to live any more. They had a plan to end their life and the means to do it. Luckily they had great friends, who showed up at our house in the middle of the night knocking on the door to stop my child when they received a "goodbye text." It was unexpected. How does a parent prepare for that?! My child had been laughing, joking and having fun with our family just a few hours before. Our world was upside down and we didn't know how to fix it. Life was dark and dismal. I felt myself slipping into a dark hole. I didn't want to talk to anyone and I spent a lot of time crying. Running was a way I could let go and release the build up of feelings and emotions that I couldn't put into words. I was getting stronger, real life provided me with plenty of fuel to push my body physically. My paces were on, my disease was under control and I could see reaching my goal of running a Boston qualifying marathon.
Then in February I was hit by a car in a crosswalk. I somersaulted over the hood of an suv and landed "wrong" on my leg when I came down. I sprained my wrist & smashed my fingers. The driver fled before checking to see if I was alright. I was alone and cold and really angry so I ran 4 miles on my leg when I shouldn't have. Probably in a little bit of shock. I ended up with a stress fracture in my fibula. I kept training but wore a boot for a month. I did Ironman Oceanside 70.3 in April just before it was healed and made it worse and went back to wearing a boot and using crutches. The boot came off just in time for Ironman St George 70.3. I did the bike and swim but opted out of the run so that I wouldn't need to put the boot back on. I also wanted to heal so that I could heal and work towards Boston. It was my 1st DNF, completely intentional from the start and much harder to do than run injured. But it was a good lesson and one I needed to learn. Knowing when to quit is just as important as knowing when you can push on through the pain.
Coming back was slow. I kept getting tendinitis around the fracture and my RA nodules on my Achilles were flaring along with several neuromas in my feet. But I had a plan to help my child who was struggling emotionally. I knew how much running helped me so I got them to run with me. We were healing together and it was a gift to both of us. My child joined the high school cross country team and we ran together all summer. It was wonderful. I got to share my love of running with my child and I could see it helping them as well. We had weekly runs in the mountains and I was hopeful that we had made a turn for the better. Life was looking up and I was less afraid for the emotional health of my baby. But then my child was injured. The high school coach encourages high miles and two a day work outs. My kiddo ended up with painful shin splints and wasn't able to run. They missed several meets and the darkness started creeping back in.
In September we went on a family four wheeling adventure. It was one of the best days in my memory with my family. Half way through the adventure I managed to roll the four wheeler I was driving with my daughter on the back. I tried to put my body between her and the machine as we flipped and the machine came flying on top of us. Luckily she wasn't seriously injured. It knocked the wind out me and my head bounced on the hard ground. I was gasping for air and knew that I was hurt, but once again shock has an amazing ability to dull the pain. We rode for awhile longer. I would gasp and yelp when we hit bumps on the dirt road. But I wasn't going to let it stop me from enjoying the trip with my family. I was having a hard time breathing. We stopped for dinner and while my kids played in the river I attempted to "walk off" the pain. Watching them laugh and joke and just have fun together on that day is a memory I will always cherish. Once the shock wore off I knew I was seriously injured. It was getting late and I didn't want to go the hospital so I went to the insta-care the next day to assess how bad the damage was. I had broken three ribs. For the next week I didn't do much. I would walk a mile or ride my bike in the basement just long enough to continue my exercise streak. (Haven't missed a day since Dec. 10 2012) The rest of the time I just sat fighting for air and praying that the RA didn't attack my lungs or the soft tissue around my ribs and that I would heal.
The next week things got a lot worse. My child who had been struggling came to me and my husband sobbing and begging for help. This child had turned to self harm to combat the emotional pain that they were battling and fighting the desire to end their life. Our child told us that they were happy one minute and the next could think of nothing but ending their life. They wanted to get better and asked us to help. We had been doing weekly counseling sessions and between that and running things had been going better. We were hopeful that things would continue to improve. A few months earlier I had talked to a friend about the challenges we were facing and that my child's counselor suggested we consider in patient treatment... basically therapeutic boarding school. My friend gave me great advice. She said you might not be at a point where you can see that as an option, hopefully you never will and things will continue to improve. But just in case, do your research now. Research your options now while you are not in crisis so that if you are faced with that decision you know what you want to do and you don't have to make that decision when life is caving in around you. So we did just that. My husband and I started looking at different schools comparing both the therapeutic and educational programs. I interviewed directors over the phone and we narrowed down our list of facilities that we felt could help our child if it came to the point we needed more help.
In June we went as a couple to meet with the director of the school where we ended up enrolling our child. It was months before we would reach the point where our child came to us and asked for help. Our child had no idea we were researching or looking at options to help them. My husband told the director down to a small window when he felt like we would "know". By this time (end of September-beginning of October) he said either things would significantly improve or something would happen and we would know that it was time to get more help. Our child came to us begging that we help in the middle of that window. It was September 29th. Deciding to allow some one else to help our child was the hardest decision we have had to make. We discussed it with the child and they agreed that they wanted the help. My husband was still calling resources and looking for another option as we prepared to take our child to the school. I reminded him of his statement back in June and told him he couldn't have known that closely to when the time would be right. I say there was some divine prompting for a father so that we would have the strength to do what we needed to do. Knowing that your child is hurting, whether it be physical, emotional, psychological or spiritual is a difficult part of parenting. We want to help them. It is our jobs as parents to help our kids. But we can not take their personal challenges away from them either.
It was beyond hard! We didn't see or talk to our child for weeks. After that it was very limited. They were learning but also slow to progress in the program. The program works at the speed of the child and is very individualized to meet their needs and help them overcome the challenges they face. We thought that we were looking at a 3 month program, worst case 6 months. Nope...it has been nearly 10 months and we aren't finished yet.
Once again I felt helpless and out of control. Control really is an illusion. Don't believe me... look around at your own life. The only thing that is certain is that nothing is for certain. We fight so hard to maintain some semblance of control. But when you really look around we really aren't controlling a whole lot.
As my ribs started to heal I started running again to "challenge" them and hopefully regain normal function. It was hard. I had broken two of them right where they support the diaphragm and it made breathing very difficult. The third was in my back. My RA has attacked my lungs in the past and I was so afraid of that happening again. I fought to take a deep breath and start to heal my lower lobes of my lungs. I also needed the emotional relief that running provides me.
I signed up for a 12 week high intensity cardio weight program, Body By Banks with Michael Banks, not knowing if my ribs could handle it but I had a good friend who supported me ask me to do it with her and I needed an excuse to keep fighting. I set a goal to run Mt Charelston but I really wasn't sure I could recover and train enough in time to run it. I was burned out and not sure I wanted to hang on to my goal. Maybe I should put it away for a few years. But I thought about my children and their challenges. They knew what my dream meant to me and I wanted to show them that I wasn't going to quit just because it was hard.
My training was focused. I only ran 3 times a week. One speed, one tempo and one long run that always included a good deal of climb each week along with the 5 am cardio class three times a week. I had 7 tumors in my feet leading into my marathon... they hurt and my toes are bone on bone because of the RA. I often stop to "relocate" and adjust my toes on a run. I questioned my sanity in thinking I could reach my goal. But I still had this overwhelming desire to accomplish it. I wanted my kids to believe that they could accomplish the seemingly impossible. I wanted them to know that I don't give up on myself or them and that I know they can overcome the challenges they face and reach their own goals and dreams.
I showed up at the start line (I will share a race day post later) and finally reached my goal, my dream of Boston. I think that brought a new kind of shock. But I did it.
So why do I share all of this very personal information? Because I want to be real and because we can't help and support each other if we aren't. There have been a handful of people who have opened up to me and my husband along this journey. They have shared very real and very private experiences and we have benefited because of it. These friends have given us the strength to hang on. There is a strong stigma surrounding mental health in our society and it is difficult to talk openly about, but it is just as real as physical health challenges. Once again I want to share hope and strengthen my own. I have been saying for months that I am holding on to hope. But talking to another parent the other day they had a better description. "We have blind faith" and are willing to follow it to help our family in any way that we can. Life is hard, sharing this post and being vulnerable is hard. But in being real we can help each other through difficult circumstances.
My goal of Boston gave me an outlet to work out real life drama... everyone has real life drama we can't escape it. I have very easily shared how that dream changed my physical health for the better. I just wanted to touch on the other side just a little bit of how it has helped me in other ways.
I have been vague to protect the privacy of my children. But I am open and willing to talk. If I can support you or you have insight to share with me please private message me.
