Running In Place

Oh man was I sick this past week!  Now I’m here to whine all about it – but, if you’ll indulge me, I think it’s better that I at least complain rather than staying quiet.  I’ve got to start saying something, anything, or I’m afraid I’ll lose my voice.

In any case, it was an ugly week of GI nonsense that left me feeling exhausted and depressed.  My sister had managed to pick up the Giardia parasite somewhere and had just recovered from 3 weeks of chronic diarrhea and, since we both get our produce from the same little organic farmer, “stomach bug” suddenly took on a new meaning for me.  In the end, it turned out that I had not picked up a little friend and was starting to feel better by late week – but what a lost week it was.  I’m feeling, more and more, that I can’t tolerate the idea of losing time.  Not that I feel an urgency to pack every minute with activity or accomplishment, just that I’m becoming more cognizent of how often I am not fully present in my life.  Maybe it’s a symptom of nearing 40.  Not that 40 is so old, or that I am bothered at all by the passage into another decade.  Only that there is a keener sense, for me anyway, of passing into the second half of my life – well hopefully anyway – my mother died at 48.  When she was 24, the year in her life that I was born, she had no inkling that it was then she was passing into the second half of her life.  Who knows, I may have stepped over that imaginary line long ago too. 

See, this is why I shouldn’t be allowed to laze around the house for a whole week.

On Saturday, my big dog – Mira -

the one who just recently had to have her ACL and meniscus repaired – started to look a little funny in the left eye.  It was kind of cloudy, and bloodshot, and weirdly bulging.  Of course our vet was away for the weekend so we had to take her to an unfamiliar one about an hour north.  By the time we got there, the other eye was taking on the same appearance.  I was hoping it was some kind of infectious irritation that could be easily resolved with some antibiotic eye drops, but turns out it was a rapid onset glaucoma.  The pressure in both eyes was already quite elevated so I am grateful that we got her in to be seen rather than having to wait for our vet to return on Monday.  By then her vision would surely have been irreparably harmed.  The suspicion is that the increased occular pressure is secondary to an inflammatory process, potentially caused by some kind of tick-borne virus.  The heartworm test was negative but Lyme Disease has not been ruled out.  At this point, we’re treating her with eye drops and antibiotics – which already seem to be affecting some improvement, at least in the appearance of her eyes.  Tomorrow we’ll head back to the doc to see if the pressure has lessened.  Tomorrow was to have been my 4 month follow up with the bone specialist to see if the enchondroma has remained stable but there’s no question in my mind who takes priority here.

As for running, if I don’t count to the bathroom, none in the past week and a half.  Since I have started to regain my appetite I have been totally gorging on comfort foods and I suspect I will have come out of this ordeal actually having gained weight.  So I am very much looking forward to getting back into a routine and on a schedule.  The race season around here is pretty much drying up, as it always does this time of year.  We’ve already had one snow, though it didn’t stick, and most days aren’t creeping much beyond the 40s F lately.  Not long till the silk long johns come up out of storage and the snowshoes get pulled out of the closet!  Believe it or not, I can’t wait! 

Today I made a visit to a person who is an active cocaine & heroin user, who has cancer, and who has wildly uncontrolled pain in spite of a s.h.i.t.l.o.a.d. of pain med.  This person is addicted, this person doesn’t want to quit – only to not be in pain, this person knows that time is short and there’s no going back.  This person hurts my heart. 

I have loved, in my life, 2 junkies.  Deeply.  I am in no position to dissect the nature of addiction.  I can’t pretend I know what it feels like to be as focused, driven, creative, and motivated as one needs to be to stay fixed.  Or how ultimately exhausting and defeating it is.  I am only an observer.  I do know what it feels like to be begged, cried on, manipulated, promised to, emotionally distanced, and loved in the most desperate and intense way that I will ever know.  Hope and despair.  And hope. 

So meeting this person today - watching the wall climbing, hearing the rap, being invited into the suffering, and trying to sort through notions of real and unreal – has slammed me back into a time and place that I wasn’t prepared for.  I mean, I knew what to expect.  I thought I was ready and maybe even a little bit of an “expert” (fucking arrogant. and stupid).  This person will die hard, will suffer and suffer more still – in spite of my puny efforts, the efforts of the docs and the palliative experts.  Despair. 

I can’t sleep.  And I can’t seem to drink enough to catch a proper buzz.  Life’s not fair.

I got all my runs in this week.  I didn’t blow any off, I didn’t let other (allegedly) more pressing issues get in the way.  Running moved out of the Maybe, If I Have Time column on my To Do list.  Why do I always make it so hard?

I am vindicated to say that yesterday & today were bonafide tights-justified days.  In spite of the fact that long pants days are going to be more and more prevelant at this point, I ordered one of these.  We’ll see if it ends up frivolous fun or a horrible mistake.

So.  As David correctly observed, I will not be toeing the line at MCM a few weeks from now.  Fortunately, the Marines are a sympathetic lot and, for a few extra bucks, have allowed me to defer till next year.  So I’m registered for ‘07 and my aspirations are as high as ever though, right now, I’m unwilling to think that far ahead.  I’m only worrying about the now, right now. 

I’ve been detached for so long that I don’t believe I ever mentioned my trip across the continent in May, to most lovely Oregon.  And my hanging out, micro-brew drinking afternoon with VJ.

I had never been farther west than Nebraska and seeing the opposite coast was really wonderful and beautiful.  Endless ocean and sunset pictures are here.  I was so very pleased to have an opportunity to meet another RBFer and especially one with whom I could share a common interest – beer drinking.  In fact, her sweetie and my husband are both home brewers.  Since Oregon is evidently overfull with micro and craft brews, I was sent on a mission by my poor husband (who was spending all his time on business) to sample the indiginous product.  I couldn’t have found a better guide than Vicki Jean and I don’t think I ever thanked her properly for her hospitality and good company – it was a most wonderful day.  This was back in May.  I’ve been underground for awhile, huh? 

Tomorrow I have to take little cat for her well check and booster shots and such.  My husband wants me to ask the vet why animals don’t have belly buttons.  I’ll keep you posted.