Some good news

When I start a new fitness class or running clinic, or even when I started this blog and I am faced with the task of introducing myself, I begin at the turning point. I always start at the beginning of this new fitness journey and give the summery that goes something like this; " 4 1/2 years ago I was sick with a resting heart rate of 120bpm, I could not do anything.......".  Read my first blog entry and you will see the short story.  But the real story is a lot longer and a more traumatic.

Just over 4 1/2 years ago I knew something was wrong but I had no idea what it was. I was so tired I did not have words for it. When I tried to tell people just how tired I was, I would start to cry. I had no balance and often felt faint. My fingers, legs, and arms twitched suddenly and often.  My hands shook all of the time. I looked like I was going through withdrawals trying to hold anything steady in my hand. Whenever I tried to smile my face would twitch and shake and it would end up looking more like I wanted or was going to cry.  My heart pounded all of the time, I was winded if I tried to climb a set of stairs or walk the 10 feet from my couch to my fridge. And, for the first time in my life, I was hot all of the time.  I also went through a host of "girlie problems" that are too long to go into detail about, but need to be mentioned in hopes of providing a sense of the huge changes happening all of a sudden and all at once.

Prior to this point, I previously had a great family doctor that had passed away and I was left without a doctor for a number of years. I finally found one and had basically begged him to take me on, explaining how I was very rarely sick and would not be too much of a burden on his tremendously busy practise. For 2 years I had seen him only once per year for scheduled and routine physical visits.  Now I had to face a man I barely knew and get him to understand that something was terribly wrong and that I was not crazy. Thankfully, he believed me.

It took a further 4 months for me to get to see a specialist, an endocrinologist to be exact. But, prior to giving a diagnosis, she needed to do some routine tests to see what was going on. In the interim I was put on heart medicine to control my very erratic and scary fast heart rate.  The medicine would guarantee that my heart rate would not exceed 70-80bpm. It was a start, but it was not a long term solution. 

I started to get depressed. I was incapable of doing anything. It was now winter and I could not walk my dogs, I could not shovel snow, I could not swim, I could barely work.  While I had not been routinely active or part of any organised sport for a very long time, I was a healthy person. I rarely was sick or took time off of work, and even won awards for not ever taking time off work due to illness. This thing, what ever it was, was kicking my butt and my life was changing drastically. All I could think of was that I was going to be sick forever.

Then came a diagnosis.  It will be 4 years this February.  I was diagnosed with "graves disease" or hyperthyroidism. My thyroid was functioning in overdrive and it was the reason I was so sick. I was told that depression was common, that death did happen (my doctor's words were "I am not going to lie to you, people have died from this"), and that I was lucky that I had not had a stroke with my heart rhythm being such as it was. Then they told me the course of treatment. They would put me on a strong dose of medicine to "get the ball rolling" and to bring down my symptoms immediately.This immediately caused a 38lb weight gain in only 32 days!  And we had not moved into the next course of treatment.  Talk about depressed. This was very difficult for me to deal with.

They said that they would gradually reduce the levels of medicine and would eventually back me off of the heart medication. The hope was that my levels would fall into the normal range and we would be able to remove me from all meds with a normal functioning thyroid once again. This should lead to my body resetting and my weight normalising again too. The way we monitored my progress was through constant and routine blood tests every 6-10 weeks.  Just another thing for me to deal with since I am terrified of needles and my veins often roll away from the needle. I have had my share of nasty bruises. 

The unfortunate thing was that every time we got my levels in the normal range and lowered the dose to the lowest level before withdrawal from the medication, the levels would climb again. This resulted in a 3 year long see-sawing of weight gain, moderate weight loss, heart palpitations, sleepless nights, constant need for sleep, low levels of energy and energy to burn. All of these symptoms depending on the cycle that my body was in at any given moment. There was nothing predictable about what was going to happen, except that it was going to be unpredictable.



Then this spring we decided that the dangers of staying on medication were too great to keep going with no end in site. We decided to move through radioactive therapy and to "kill" my thyroid all together. This means that I am going to have to be on artificial thyroid hormone medication for the rest of my life.  Just how much of a dose was going to be the trick. 

One week after the procedure I returned to exercise.  I knew it was going to be important to maintain a consistent routine so that I did not go crazy, but also so that I could help my body help itself.  Three months after the procedure the first blood test showed that I had no thyroid hormone in my system at all. I needed to get on meds and I needed to get on them fast.  They started me on a relatively high dose so that I could bring levels up to normal quickly and to hopefully avoid weight gain. It is something that is an issue with me and we did not want to add to complications and feelings of depression again.  But, it turns out, nothing can be straight forward with me and another 6 weeks showed that there was no change. No change? Well there was one, another 14lbs of weight put on over the most active summer I had ever had! I was furious and embarrassed. I want to look as healthy and active as I am. I want to look like the athlete that I am. I want to have some kind of reward for the hard work. And so on.......

They upped the levels again and ordered tests for another 6 weeks.  There were more complications, including an allergy and a change in medication along with a mix up at the pharmacy. Another 6 weeks and it was time for me to get more tests. I did my job and I went back but 2 1/2 weeks went by with no news or information.  So, today I took matters into my own hands and called the doctor to see what was going on.  I am so glad I did. You see, for the first time in 4 years, my levels are solidly in the "normal" range. My medication will not be adjusted and I will be able to go until the beginning of February before I have to let someone poke me in the arm and take more blood!  We may have finally found the balance point.

I am not a pessimist by nature, but on this front I have been less than optimistic due to the constant ups and dreaded downs.  I have struggled with body image issues, frustration, depression and anxiety. I have fought urges to scream, cry, give up and self medicate.  I have lost more hair than I can measure (thank God I have a lot of it) and have had two minor medical procedures to fix womanly complications from such erratic thyroid levels.  I have struggled and raged and fought to win this and now it seems that we may have actually gotten to the end point! I am so excited that I can see the end of the road where my life becomes predictable again and my body reacts just like everyone elses to the stresses and reward that I put it through.

After 4 1/2 years of uncertainty and worry, I have finally received a bit of good news. And you know what? It feels so good I think I just might cry.

The things we can't fix

Those of you who know me know that I can be a bit of a control freak. I am a little bit competitive, and I like to have or generally know the answers. Though I have learned how, I am not so very good at asking for help, though I will freely give it. I don't like to be wrong and for that I try to share my wisdom. I don't like other people I love to be wrong either. 

So, when someone that I know or love is hurting it hurts me. It hurts me because I am human and I have empathy and can feel for them. It hurts me because I would never wish pain on someone I care about. But to be honest, I think it also pains me because I have to admit to my humanness and vulnerability and admit that I don't have all of the answers and I cannot make things better.

What is even worse is when more than one person is hurt or going through a tough time at the same time. I feel like I want so much to fix things that I get distracted from what I am supposed to do, which is to listen, love and support my loved one that needs me.  And then, there are the times when two people are hurting and they are hurting each other, and I love them both.  Not only am I helpless, but I am torn. I am torn because these two people are tearing each other up, and I cannot stop that either.

While sport teaches me that I am human and that I must except limitations, life makes me want to exceed all limitations and to try to be all things to all people. Maybe this is why I love multi sport so much?  It lets me be more than one thing and it lets me feel like I am accomplishing something that is near impossible in real life. It makes me good at more than one thing at a time. 

I used to be a boss and I would never hire someone who didn't list either a first job at McDonalds or active team sport involvement on his/her resume. This was a hiring tactic because it let me know that these people could work as a team, that they could problem solve, they could multi-task, and they could handle the stress of not getting it right. Every now and then we have to accept making a mistake, we have to learn to accept a loss.

I think it is time that I learned from sport myself. I think it is time that I took some of my own advice and apply the rules of sport to real life.  I have to accept the loss. I have to learn to lose gracefully. More importantly, I have to learn that there are more players on the field at any given time than just me. We are all capable of pulling together as a team and winning or losing. But for certain, I am not ever going to be able to win or lose all by myself, no matter how hard I try.

There are some things I am just not going to be able to fix. So, I am going to have to hold my chin up and be there for the rest of my team mates.  I will be here to cheer, to listen and to hold them up when they need me and together we will emerge stronger and better than ever before. Of this, I am sure.

the sum of my parts

If I define myself as just one thing, any one thing, when the times comes where I am no longer that thing does that mean that I am no longer either?  I worry about broad brush strokes and the general labels we put on almost everything and everyone these days. I know that I am more than a one word description, I am the sum of my parts.

A number of years ago I decided that I was going to retool my life. I was going to walk away from things that weren't working for me and I was going to start over. As part of this new path I promised myself that I was going to surround myself with people that saw me the way that I saw myself. I was going to spend time with those who lifted me up and walk away from those that tore me down. 

I put great effort into my life. I make conscious choices to see the positive in my world.  I try to walk through my life in a conscious state and not mindlessly wander through the haze.  I take action to ensure that I get out of this life what I would like to get out of it and not what someone else decides to "dole" out to me. And I try to make sure that I positively affect my corner of the world so that people want to spend time with me because I am one of the ones that lift them up.

As part of this effort I surround myself with positive people. My group of friends are people that I enjoy spending time with. I always walk away from them feeling better than I did when we said "hello".  Even when one of us needs help or comfort while moving through a difficult time or situation, we are there to help out, but we do not leave feeling drained and exhausted dreading the next time we meet.  This is what it means to be a friend. To celebrate the good times but to share the burden of the hard times so that the hard times pass that much quicker and we come out of them stronger for the experience. 

I have also committed to being more healthy because I ask much of my body to move around and just "be" every day. The best that I can do for myself is to honour my body and give it what it needs to perform the tasks I ask of it. Though I push my body very hard to complete runs, bikes, swims, workouts and general moving about each day; I also reward it and make it stronger by completing these activities. A body in motion remains in motion. I want to remain in motion for some time to come.

So what to do when a situation arises that asks me to spend time with negative people who define me in broad strokes and one word descriptions, none of which I would use to define myself. The ones that I discount not because they are simply limiting but because they are limiting, dismissive and rude? 

Today I am going to walk into a room where very few people know me, and most of the ones that do define me in lose terms and they don't really like me.  At least, this is how I feel when I am with them.  I have to do this because it is expected of me, or I would simply "opt" out.   In order to get through it with dignity and decorum I have made a decision to get through it with both. I am also going with my husband because he will lift me up and he will celebrate me and all that I am.  I spent time with my husband,my dog and my friends and running supporters this morning so that I could strengthen myself and my belief in me before I even walk out the door tonight.  What is more is that I will remind myself that I am strong, smart, athletic, lovable, and wise. I am a good wife, a good friend, a good sister, a good daughter and a good aunt.  I am a great dog mom and a good neighbour. I am kind to others and I wish only the best for those around me.  I am all of these things because I am a whole person, the total sum of my parts; and what is more important is that I am not defined, labelled, brought down or belittled by those who chose to see me any other way.

Inspiration vs Perspiration

Have you ever heard the old adage "success is 20% inspiration and 80% perspiration"? I have, and on this American Thanksgiving day, I've gotten to thinking about both and why I am so grateful for them.

On the FB and Twitter I see notes from people I know, trainers, work out elite and the like asking "what/who inspires you?".  It has been asked so often that it becomes mundane and the answers all seem less than authentic after a while.  I want to give this some serious attention today and be sure to be real about it.

I have successfully completed many workout challenges that I have placed in front of myself. I hope to find success at many more. The trick for me seems to be slow and steady progress and a commitment to be consistent in my training and seeking help.  I am really grateful that I have the common sense enough to respect my body, my age and my limits. I am smart enough to know not to push too hard or too fast, and that I am not going to succeed on my own. So I think this covers the perspiration. That and 6am morning runs, yoga classes, and dog runs followed by work days full of working so that I can afford to pursue my dreams, and then night time runs, swims, yoga, dog walks, workouts, and or bike rides/spin classes.  Yup I am working up a sweat just now writing about it. Perspiration is definitely covered.

But what of who and what inspires me?  You know, I find inspiration in many places.  My brother really has inspired me most of my life and I would say that most of the time he doesn't even know it. But when it comes to working out and chasing the triathlon dream, he changed my life. It was his commitment to the plan and his willingness to share the dream with me that had me plunge head first into my first race. The first race that started my love affair with running and reignited my passion for working out.  My priorities in life changed and I have become more of the person that I want to be. He listens to my stories, teaches me what he can, asks me to try my best, and is my biggest cheer leader for sure. Yup, definite inspiration.

There is also my dog. He has such joy when we walk and even more when we run. He reminds me how primal being active is and reminds me to enjoy moving because it is liberating and freeing and natural. And, he does all of this without a word, just a goofy lopsided grin and wagging tail and I can see all that he is trying to teach me and share with me.

I am inspired daily by people that are younger, older, thinner, or fatter than me that are going above and beyond what I am currently capable of, proving to me that it can be done.

And last night, I sat with mouth agape and tears freely flowing with a new found respect for Tara Costa. That chick ROCKED the Biggest Loser world when she beat the boys in every challenge in Season 7 and showed me just what girl power is capable of. I have been a fan ever since. But last night, watching her talk about how her life has changed and how she has completely dedicated her life to the journey of fitness cemented her place as hero in my book. Then, watching her compete in and fully experience the Ironman Hawaii race reminded my why she is such a great role model and source of inspiration. She is not rail thin and she will never be. She did not come in first because she is not a professional athlete. But she is an athlete, make no mistake about it. She was as determined and fierce as I have ever seen her, but there was something new. She was also a bit vulnerable. She was a bit softer and she took time to enjoy and embrace the experience of the entire race, not just the part where she crosses the finish line.  Yup, Tara Costa is the real deal and I am so glad that a little television show allowed me to get to find that out about her.

There are hero's and role models all around us.  I wonder how many of them have you met? How many have inspired you? Have you told them?

I am thankful that I have role models and I hope that I remember to tell them who they are and why they are so special to me every time I get the chance.

Now, off to work out....it's time for the perspiration part again.

There is room to be nice in sport

I think that bike people can be snobs. There is a "culture" to cycling that can be off putting to some. For instance, I don't go on local group rides because there is a general condescension and an unwritten rule that if you are not as good as the group, you need not join.  I wonder, if I cannot join unless I am good, how do I get the chance to get good? How do I learn the dynamics of riding in a crowd and drafting, and taking my turn at pulling if I am not allowed to do any of these things until I am good at them? It reminds me of the experience of looking for a first job.  No one will hire you unless you have experience, but you cannot gain experience unless someone hires you. See where I am going with this?

These are the things that made me reluctant to join a running clinic or a Master Swim Class. I wondered if only the elite were allowed to join these activities as well?  I went to one running facility and was very underwhelmed at the amount of advise and help that was offered. I had made up my mind that I was going to have to learn how to be a runner on my own.  Fortunately for me, an inquisitive banker told me about a different running place. I went to The Running Room and spent about an hour asking mundane questions of Ron.  He was patient and kind and made me believe that there would be a whole host of people that would work with me and would want to see me become a runner as much as I wanted it for myself.

It has been just over two years and indeed there have been countless number of people that have helped me to succeed and have cheered me on along with way. I have a core group of ladies that are affectionately called the Running Buddies that help me with all of my goals (thanks Trish, Betty, Tracy, Pati, Helen, and Baljit), you ladies are amazing and mean more to me than you know.  I have also been blessed with great support from coaches and teachers (Ron, Brenda, Eric, Jose and most of all Carol). You all helped me reach heights I hoped to reach but was never really sure if I could.

Because of the great experience that I had at the Running Room I took another step out of my comfort zone and sought help in other places. I joined a Master Swim Class at McMaster. I joined a Moksha Yoga studio to find strength, flexibility and calm in my days and training, and I went back to the gym for spin classses. All of this has helped me to become a better athlete and sportsman.

I have long since known that to be in sport required sportsmanship, but now I have examples of this in my daily life. You see, sport is more than just the competition. It is the training and coaching and comradery that happens along the way to the competition.

So when a young girl siddled up to me on the bench before morning announcements at the Sunday morning practice run and asked if she could please run with me, I knew my answer had to be "yes". I owed her the same respect and help that had been given me time and time again.  It was great spending time with her over our 7km run learning why she was running in the first place, and what she hoped to achieve.  I hope that I was able to provide her with a friendly ear and a warm smile, and the confidence boost she needs to come back again on Wednesday.  I hope I was a good sport and showed her that running is not simply for the elite, but that it is just plain simple.  As long as we are moving forward with one foot in front of the other we are going in the right direction. And hey, there are no medals for finishing first in a clinic.

Along those lines, I want to say "thank you" to all of the runners who have waved, nodded, said hi or even wished me a "good morning" while we passed each other on the streets and trails about town. I want to thank the ladies who took time out of their race to pick me up off of the pavement when I fell during a race. I want to thank the tons of volunteers that clap for us, block traffic for us, hand us food and drinks, and generally make every race I have been a part of go off without a hitch.  I want to thank the professionals who pat each other on the back and offer words of encouragement to one another during a pass because you show us what sport is really all about.

When we were kids we shook hands at the end of a game because we were told to.  Now I shake hands along the way because it is the right thing to do.  I try to help out when I can and hope to inspire and motivate others as much as they do me.

You see, I truly believe that there is room to be nice in sport, and it starts with each and every one of us.

Not sure

I look at the blank page in front of me, and I am not really sure what to write today.  I do know that it felt great to have a really calm work day yesterday.  After a week of feeling very stressed and volnerable it was very nice to be able to relax and focus on work in a good way.  It was a much appreciated way to end the week.

Then, when all the work was done I made it to my swim and gym as was planned due to rescheduling on Thursday. The workout was intense.  I made sure not to waste any time and to get a full burn with great emphasis on building muscle and core strength. I felt so good when I left the gym.

Today, I know that my workout targeted exactly what I was hoping to target because my legs were sore and tired, but in a good way. My belly and back are also talking to me, which means that the functional form movement for core develpment did what I wanted as well.

But do you know what I think the best part of this week has been?  It has been today. A day designed for rest and restoration.

I woke up early today, but without having to hear the alarm clock. I made a decision to learn from the rest of my week and to honour myself with a full rest day.  I went early morning grocery shopping with Alan which leads to smaller line ups, first dibs at sale items, optimum parking spots and over all way less stress. Then we came home and I headed out for a meandering 5km walk with Harley. Alan did some outdoor chores while we were gone, and when we got home, we settled in to eat brunch. Alan cooked and it was yummy.  Then we did a bit of house and fun shopping and came  home to settle in for the night. I made home made chicken soup (it's good for the soul) and we are in comfy clothes to watch movies, put up the Christmas tree, and chill.

Sometimes the best days are spent with family with no particular agenda or game plan. They are days filled with love not tasks or workouts, and they fill you up.  I have totally replenished my stocks of energy and I am ready for what this next week will bring for me.  It all starts with an 8:30 am 7km run tomorrow. And you know what? I am ready. Bring it on!

life does that

I get very angry when people use the excuse "I don't have time" in order to just sit on the couch and not work out.  There seem to be an awful lot of hours in every day spent sitting around while life happens.  There are a large number of hours in the day spent watching tv or being idle where a workout could fit in.

Having said that, there are exceptions that prove the rule and today I am calling on an exception.  A stressful job and mistep that needs to be fixed kept me awake most of the night.  When I finally fell asleep it was for a full 1.5 hours in the early morning today. 

I was actually awake to see Alan come home at 4:30 today.  I had been up writing down my thoughts so that I could sort through them and get them out of my head so that I could sleep.  I was taking active steps to control the chaos and how I react to it, rather than let it control me. I was trying to be proactive and not reactive so that I could prepare myself to have a better day today.

When Alan did come home I then took advantage of having him here and vented for over an hour.  He helped me to hash more things out and make sense of up and down. Then I waddled out of the living room and into bed. The alarm went off very soon after and it was time to start my day.

I don't count my morning runs with Harley, or my afternoon walks with Harley as my "exercise".  Yes, they comprise an important part of both mine nad Harley's healthy life style, but let's face it these are Harleys workouts not mine. 

So I was up and out the door with Harley for our usual morning run. The day was off to a good and predictable start.  However, a huge lack of sleep combined with improper food to eat during the day, and an inability to keep warm today has got me scheduling today as a "rest" day and rescheduling tomorrow as a swim and gym day.  I have made the conversion in writing in my calendar and now I am blogging about it to make it concrete. These are the steps I take to make sure that I get all my workouts for the week in as planned.

Though I might not like it, life really did get in the way. It does that some times.  What becomes importatnt is how I react to it.  I need to make room for compromise and change so that I can fit in all of the things that are imprtant to me, and working out is one of them.  Life will pass us by if we let it. I am determined to shift my schedule around so that I can participate as much as possible and spend as little time as necessary simply observing from the sidelines. 

commitment brings small successes

So along my running journey I have learned that it takes practise and continued commitment to get any better. Like all things in life, the more we do them, the better we get at doing them. It is hard to maintain constant commitment especially when the changes are so small and minor in scope. But every now and then something happens to remind you that it was all worth it.

Tonight began my third 1/2 marathon clinic. I take the clinics because it is all too easy to fall victim to the winter blah's and decide "it is just too cold/dark/snowy (insert your own adjective here) to run today".  Committing to a group of people that I will show up for a run every Wednesday night and every Sunday morning no matter the weather, makes me get my butt off the couch or out of bed and out the door for the planned run.

Tonight I sat in a circle of benches and introduced myself to some 30 people. I have run with some of these people before. Some are even regular running buddies of mine. But tonight, something BIG happened. Tonight was one of those nights when run after run with no sign of change lead to something significant.  Tonight we ran an easy 4.43km in a time of 30:23.  Not blazzingly fast I know, but it was the first time in 2 years of clinics that I did not finish at the back of the pack. For the ENTIRE run there were people from the clinic behind me!

Tonight I saw for myself that all of the hard work does pay off. Sometimes it just takes a while for some tangible measure to illustrate that all the commitment indeed brings success. 

Starting point

4 years ago I would tell people that "I wouldn't run if a cop was chasing me".  Funny how fast things can change.

Over the course of these same four years I have been diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism or "graves disease" that had my resting heart rate sitting at an unbearable 120pbm.  Wow right?  I could not do anything.  I made a pact, that though I had not been particularly active in my 30's that I was going to treat my body right once I got healthy.

When I was given the green light, while on medication and still not 100%, I started to train for my first triathlon. The event was a sprint distance and it was HARD. Hardest thing I had ever done to date. But, I did it, and I knew immediately,that I was going to do more.

2 1/2 years have passed and I have competed in 9 Triathlons from Try-a-Tri to Olympic in distance. And I have run in 20 some fun runs and races ranging in distance from 5km to 1/2 Marathons (21.1km).  So now I am pretty sure that I am an athlete, and almost positive that I have earned the right to call myself a triathlete.  So why blogg now?  What is there to discover now? 

I am blogging because over the course of this adventure I have learned some things about myself. One of which is, I am not a quitter. But, sick with strep throat and only 2 days of medication, I had to pull out of the Around the Bay Race last year at 21 kms.  Today, I have just registered for my second attempt at the race. This year my goal is the "beat the bay".  I would like to document my journey and I would like to invite you along for the ride.

So this is becomes the new starting point in a new journey to Beat the Bay. Shall we?