07/31/2008 Gardening @ Night #18
Ok, well now there are 72 days left till the Baltimore half marathon. Will I be ready? Just don't know yet. On Monday I was able to run 7.5 miles and I was very excited about it but the last couple days have been so hot that each time I tried to run, I could only go for 5. Today Kyle went with me and harassed me as much as he could to get me to run further but my ass said "NO". My lungs and legs ached with exhaustion. I was ka-put! Cashed! I was hoping to make it to 8 miles tomorrow but I kinda doubt that will happen now. Whadevah. At least I can run. I keep reminding myself that even though I feel as though I'm moving in slow motion, this recovery has been one of the quickest achievements in my entire life. If I can actually run another half marathon on basically the anniversary of my diagnosis, that's crazy fuckin' shit. It was such a defining and contradicting moment in time, that week in Oct 2007, it plays like stop motion animation in my head. Getting to October and he race again almost seems like a chance to go back in time. I have to return to that moment and have it play out in a new way. Maybe that's why it's so important to me.
I look so much more normal now and everyone keeps saying "you look great!" Now I can "pass" for perfectly healthy - which I basically am. I'm no longer that bandanna woman eyes can't help but rest on. And I do feel better physically, though still a bit tired. (It's nothing like the fatigue from before, so what the heck am I complaining about?) In the meantime, I've been attempting to realign my head, too, mainly by letting time heal me. I have to admit, it's been more difficult than I thought it would be. I've been walking around in a funk for several weeks, a little numb. I'm ancey, especially when those hot flashes wash me sweat, which is about once every 30 minutes depending on how much coffee or alcohol I've had. I doubt I've been very cheerful or nice to people.
Today, with my 5 mile "defeat", I came to a realization that I personally have a lot of my self worth invested in being macho, of all things. I see now, just how important being a jock has been to my self image. Funny, I didn't know I was so shallow, but it's clear to me now that this is as much of a mental blow as anything else. Last week I kept trying to stand outside in my front yard to shore up my "wall", a circular stacked stone wall about 18" high that I built last sept (yes, another pre-diagnosis item I've impregnated with symbolism). But I couldn't do it for more than 5 minutes because I'd be attacked by swarms of mosquitoes. This was really just one battle in a war I've waged all my life, but, last week I retreated in utter defeat and dispare each day. I would forget about it after being inside for 5 minutes after that and go on with the evening's events not realizing that lava was building in my stomach. The following mornings I would wake up and know ennui was eating at me but I couldn't figure out why until finally one afternoon I got bit by 5 mosquitoes in the space of a minute. Somehow I connected the dots, imagine that. I was really upset, even furious that I couldn't haul my rocks back into place because I was being tormented by these minescule mighty mites. Wow. I finally admitted this to Kyle and magically he had an solution, "buy some of those bug-off clothes". So I did and they arrived today. Can I tell you? I look so macho in these rediculous clothes is isn't funny, especially the hat.
