Doctor said I need a Backiotomy

My mistake: Saying I felt pretty good.

I was even thinking that maybe I jumped the gun by going to the doctor and having an MRI (an MRI for crying out loud! I mean, I'm not even *limping*). However, true to the pattern I've recognized in the past few years, all it takes is one bad run to have it all come crashing down.

I flew on my 5k last Saturday. It was amazing, and I barely even felt sore that night. The next day I flew to Dallas for job training. After getting a ridiculous amount of sleep that night (seriously - I went to bed at 9pm and was wide awake at 5:30am) and sitting through an entire day in a darkened lecture hall or ultrasound lab, when I arrived back at the hotel I was literally chomping at the bit to do something. Anything. My runs this week included not one but two 4 mile interval runs, which was new for me. So I went to the fitness center and hit the gas!

I was hurting a little during and after the run but nothing terrible. The next day I flew back home and noticed pitting edema in my ankles. That happens a lot when I fly so I didn't worry too much but my shins - they hurt again. A lot. Knowing that I had an appointment to address my MRI results the following week, I just stopped running all together. I did a few Beachbody work outs but was only 50/50 on actually getting up to work out. Truthfully this week was pretty depressing. I just started new birth control and I'm not sure if it's that or the sudden decrease in mileage but I've gained ten pounds in the past month, moreso in the past week. My pants are tight again around my thighs. I hesitate to do the one and only "low impact" Beachbody program (Piyo) because even though it's a great program, the last time I did it, I actually gained inches in my thighs and my pants got TIGHTER. Not ideal.

So today was the big reveal! On paper, grade 1 and 2 tibial inflammation sounds pretty weak - especially given that it's on a scale of 1-4. However, the doctor has recommended physical therapy, graston, and wants to have me get a bone stimulation unit. The overall outlook is good if I follow instructions, however I've already been met with a few snags. Firstly, the physical therapists that she recommended can't see me for over two weeks (womp womp...). Secondly, the insurance is unlikely to cover the cost of the bone stimulation thingy. So that'll leave me on the hook for an expensive gadget or just going without. Don't even get me started on the politics of the insurance company basically dictating what tools my doctor can access to treat my issues. I fume. 

I've been feeling better these past few days. I even considered doing my regularly scheduled 2 mile interval run this morning but I figured I might as well get the MRI results first. As I said, I'm a bit depressed about all of this. Being defeated again by these darn shin splints. Gaining 10 pounds. Not having a training plan lined up. I feel kind of like I'm drifting. Some of my Beachbody challengers and coaches are grasping at me trying to get me involved again and I just don't know why I can't. It's like I need another hook. Hard to invent your own hook when all the ones I invented for myself in the past three months have just vanished with this injury. Until the physical therapist clears me to run again, I'm not supposed to run or do any kind of jumping or high impact work outs.

HOWEVER!

There are plenty of bright sides! I'm finally going to spring on the YMCA membership. The kids are excited to get to spend time in the "play room" while Mommy (and maybe Daddy?) work out. I'm excited to see what a spin class is like. I'm also starting to think about doing Core de Force again - it was relatively low impact. Alternatively maybe Piyo but I can't handle the darn tight pants...

On the medical front at least this time I'm not 100% defeated by this injury. This is a setback rather than a "temporary end" this time. I've GOT a plan to get past this, and I've got a seriously well-trained team of professionals on my side. 

In completely unrelated news, I've started rehearsals with the Beaver County Choral Society for the Christmas program this year and I'm so excited to be playing and singing with them again! I just love the musical journey from "completely lost" on the first rehearsal all the way to that moving concert on recording day. I'm just so very blessed to have this group in my life!! I am about to try my new (cheap Chinese knock-off) bone conduction headset to listen to some of the music and sing along. Wish me luck :)

Oh - and in case you didn't get the reference in the blog title - it' s a quote from one of my favorite movies of all time - Half Baked:

Well, it's a Start!

Today was my first "real" 5k. I've run three "OCR"s now - obstacle course races, but I've not done a road race before. My husband has, and he's got the times, T-shirts, and medals to prove it. In the spring when I first got the bug to start running, I reached out to a friend, Aubrey, who is an avid and prolific runner. She has inspired me with her stories in her blog about her own journey to qualify for the Boston Marathon. I'm still SO new to this "running" thing that I don't really know what's considered typical or acceptable etiquette sometimes, haha. She offered, back in the spring, to come back after she finished and "run me in" at the end of the race if we ever were in the same race. However, she has recently suffered a tremendous loss in her family so I was just happy to see her there "upright and smiling". I expected nothing on this day other than to run the course and feel accomplished that I finished. I planned to do run/walk intervals, as this has been how I feel most at ease and can actually enjoy the run. Before today, my fastest 5k was somewhere around 35 minutes, so I set it to be my goal to run it faster. How much faster, I didn't care, just faster.

Right off the bat, the course was uphill, but thankfully not for long. I had my music set at a tempo of 160, which is aggressive for me. I lost sight of my husband fairly soon after the start. He was chasing his own goals today. After the first handful of intervals, I had to back it off to 155. A handful of intervals later - probably about half way through the course - I looked at my phone for the first time - I was moving at a cumulative pace of 10:44 - that's with 90 second runs and 30 second walk breaks. I was shocked to be moving so quickly, especially given the walk breaks. *Maybe* I thought... Just *maybe* I can push that 30 minute 5k. I just have to move it a bit more, is all. I pushed a little harder (in hindsight perhaps I should have bumped my music back to 160) and began to run a bit into my walk breaks. I was still feeling pretty good toward the end. A bit tired but by no means in distress. The weather was beautiful, by the way :)

As I came off the road onto the path under the bridge and back into Bridgewater, proper, I saw Aubrey standing there on the sidewalk with her dog Runner (appropriate name, huh?). As I passed, she joined me. She said nothing at first, and I kept pace. Cool, I thought, I have someone to talk to (HAHA!). The we rounded a corner and she said "See that girl? Your job is to pass her" so I stepped on the gas and found it easy to get by her. Then the challenge just became keeping up with Aubrey. She spoke softly with instructions - truly I've never sprinted before, so I'm sure I looked like a fool. Just before the final turn onto the timing mats, she gave me a final instruction: "Go across the blue mats" in fact I think she might have said it three times, because at that point I was starting to allow the complaints of my body come out my mouth in the form of some un-ladylike vocalizations. As I stumbled along as fast as my body could carry me (apparently with a heart rate somewhere in the high 180s according to my Runkeeper log), Aubrey and Runner trotted along next to me full of grace and hardly looking winded.

I planned to finish under 35 minutes. My official time was 30:30 - 4:30 faster than my goal. It really was less that I crushed my goal and more that I was unfamiliar with how I would perform in a race. I think my goal was a bit conservative. My next goal after today was going to be run a sub-30 5k. Thinking back, that was my goal for the summer but I got waylaid by these shin splints. Oddly, somehow I managed to still *almost* do it anyway.

And speaking of shin splints - my legs have been feeling great here in the last week or so since I saw the doctor. I had the MRI a week ago today and haven't heard anything about results. I called yesterday and they set me up with an appointment to go over the results, but I can't make it work in my schedule until next Tuesday, unfortunately. She said she would call me if the doctor found anything in the MRI that would require more prompt attention. I can't believe that would be the case given how good I've been feeling.

I mentioned Aubrey had suffered a great loss recently. That's her story to tell, just like our recent loss of our Greyhound, Gilbert, was mine. I warned Aubrey last night that I might cry when I saw Runner today, you see, because Runner and Gilbert were practically clones. In looking at Runner, I could easily fool myself that I'm staring straight at my recently departed pal. It's eerie. From the first moment I saw Runner, I knew this day would come. Somehow I managed not to cry (not at the race, anyway).

Also: Joe placed third in his age group with a time somewhere in the 25 minute area - LIKE A BOSS! ❤❤❤ Overall I'd say it was a pretty good day for the Formans.

The Hole in by Backyard/Heart

I know it's hard to see but imagine, if you will, a hole in that back yard two feet deep and sort of... bi-lobed. When my three year old son stands in it, it comes up past his waist.  I've been told that the previous owners of this home had a swimming pool in the back yard. That explains the sandy texture and mixture of weeds where grass should be. We never got around to doing the weed-and-feed thing, but after Gilbert the Greyhound got his paws into that sandy soil, we knew it would be worthless to even try. For a few years I would fill in the hole with a shovel and replant grass somewhere halfway through the summer, only to find it all torn apart and dug up again within a week. I even bought fill dirt. After a couple of years I gave up on filling in the hole and focused instead on stopping the dog from digging it in the first place. I spent entire afternoons (before the kids) sitting in the upstairs bedroom that overlooks the yard waiting for him to start digging so I could give him a bump with the static collar. It would stop him for a few weeks, maybe even the rest of the summer. When kids came, though, it was just plain not even on my to-do list anymore to keep the dog from digging up the yard. It was one spot in a yard full of mess and dog poop and weeds. After all, when he WAS digging, you could tell it was pure glee. A sort of joy that you don't see often in the reserved animals that greyhounds can be. Certainly out of character for Gilbert, who was always oh-so-modest and hardly ever excited about anything at all.

In fact, I described Gilbert as "about as plain vanilla as they come." He was sweet, he was lazy, he was kinda dumb (which frustrated us to no end, but what could you do?). He was handsome, patient with the kids, and in the end very brave. He gave whole blood donations to more pets than I can remember at my first veterinary job, enduring a 14 gauge needle to the neck with no need for sedation - just a calming buddy to "hold" him on the table. After, he would refuse to eat his special can of food I'd always give him. Nevertheless, he saved lives with his "universal donor" blood in a small clinic that would otherwise have not been able to provide blood products to their patients.

Gilbert fought the good fight against bone cancer for far longer than average. The prognosis for bone cancer in a Greyhound (without pursuing limb amputation and follow up chemo) is that they'll be gone to heaven in about three months. As a veterinarian, I knew this all too well and it hit me like a freight train on October 17th, 2016 when I watched his radiograph pop up on our screen at the office. Ain't technology great? Now I know my dog is going to die in 3 months, give or take. A few days later I made a new friend - the owner of a local bagel shop as she confided in me that her dog had the same disease. She hugged me as I broke down saying "I just can't believe he won't be here for Halloween next year." and began to cry. A few weeks later, I helped her say goodbye to her girl and I came home to stare at my boy and weep. Two more months, I thought.  Gilbert went through an inexplicably long asymptomatic phase. He DID see Halloween this year - at least part of it. From the time of diagnosis until his passing, Gilbert lived 349 days - a remarkable amount of time given the disease. (Academically this was certainly not a typical osteosarcoma - perhaps some other -oma of lesser malignancy, but it progressed the same, just slower).

Gilbert scarfed two whole cans of dog food and left this world with a full belly and hopefully a full heart. I don't know how long it will take me to fill in the hole he dug in the yard, but the hole he left in my heart will remain until we are reunited in the great beyond.