When I joined 24 Hour Fitness they had a new member program in which if you did a certain number of things you got a BodyBugg (http://my.apexfitness.com/) for free. The BB is, in short, a device that estimates how many calories you have burned that day. It also tells you steps, estimates the amount of time you have spent in moderate to vigrous activity, and has a "trip" feature. Reset it before a class and look at the numbers after the class. It needs a web subscription program for $10 or less a month depending on how many months you pre-pay and the website allows you to track your food and has charts and graphs.
I got it and started using it in January. Around May or so I got the challenge to stop using it and measuring life, and I did. After a couple of months, it came back on.
So there's the two camps, the camp that thinks that you shouldn't measure life and the camp that thinks you should. Which is the right answer? I honestly don't think there is one. I have tried it both ways and I think both sides have merit. I think the BodyBugg can be used as a convenient tool. I like 1000 calorie deficits so I just eat 1000 less than what the BodyBugg says I burned that day (and after all this time I can now estimate how many calories I have left to burn pretty accurately and what different activities burn). Before the BodyBugg I used a Polar Heart Rate monitor to measure calories burned during exercise and the 24 Hour Fitness website to estimate calories burned throughout the day, and when I did one day comparing both, I ended up with a difference of about 25 calories using both methods. Pretty darn accurate.
I also think there's a point to enjoying life without measuring, to living in the moment. To run just to run, to swim just to swim, to exercise just for the heck of it, without worrying about how many calories you are burning. And there definitely is a point to not swap one unhealthy way of living for another.
In the meantime, mine stays on. Maybe it will be different once I'm a goal weight. I'm always of the mindset that things are not "forever," just for "right now," and something that may be "right" now may not be right in the future and vice-versa. I found that when I took the BB off I still kept tallys in my head. After 16 months I just know how many calories food has and how many calories I probably burned in a certain hour of exercise. You just become accurate at estimating. All the BB does is it actually lets me not worry about all the calculations and just gives me a number, and so does the food logging website. So for me it actually makes it simple and faster.
I think it's a great weight-losing tool and can be functionally used in a healthy weight. Once at goal weight, however, it may be time to let it go. The good thing about it? It's always there if needed.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Dizziness and vertigo (August 2010 - Present)
During the last couple of days of July and first couple of days in August 2010 I was at Camp Do More, Chalene Johnson's camp full with workouts, fashion, and talks. I was in the middle of the loss I talked about last post and this helped a lot in healing, especially the talks. It was like every talk was directed towards me and the situation. I was also able to talk about it to my trip companion at length and just being able to talk about it helped start the healing process.
I got sick during camp and by the last day I wasn't even going to the workouts. From the hotel there I joined a 60 Days to Diamond group (long story, Beachbody related) but the important thing is that I underwent a three-day cleanse of 800 calories a day. And it was then that I learned that my body doesn't respond well to cleanses or low-calorie. I need FOOD. But it was around that time that the dizziness and vertigo started, and to this day it hasn't let up. It comes and goes, I have good days and bad days (today is a bad, no exercise day) and I've had to control food in order to still met my goals, eat enough, and not exercise some days.
I had blood tests drawn and my doctor said I was hypoglycemic (59 fasting) and told me to eat more and exercise less. A doctor actually told me to eat more and exercise less. How many times do you hear doctors say that? And say that TO ME. It's absurd, and if you had told me that 16 months ago I wouldn't have believed you.
But I didn't want to do that so I modified what I ate and have the episodes under control for the most part, and my down days are few and far apart. And the good days are GOOD. So I pretty much show up and give it my all and on days without vertigo or dizziness I'm like a kid in a candy store when I exercise because I get full use of my body. I used to say that I was lucky that my body followed me everywhere. It doesn't anymore. But I still follow my credo: Do what you can, when you can. And when I can, I enjoy the hell out of it.
I'm still undergoing tests to see what's going on. Work in progress. I've had to become my own advocate and research and go back with test codes so that the doctor can write me lab slips. This whole journey has made me a bit more assured of myself.
So on dizzy days I stay home and read or watch TV (I can't even get out of bed, I stumble standing up). And I rest and sleep. And on good days I work out 2-4 hours. I still go to group classes but I take it down instead of up. What I can, when I can.
Most of the time if I don't turn or bend over I can take a group class without much difficulty, and I found I can take spin while sick or dizzy just by holding on very tight to the handlebars to keep me on top of the bike.
I got sick during camp and by the last day I wasn't even going to the workouts. From the hotel there I joined a 60 Days to Diamond group (long story, Beachbody related) but the important thing is that I underwent a three-day cleanse of 800 calories a day. And it was then that I learned that my body doesn't respond well to cleanses or low-calorie. I need FOOD. But it was around that time that the dizziness and vertigo started, and to this day it hasn't let up. It comes and goes, I have good days and bad days (today is a bad, no exercise day) and I've had to control food in order to still met my goals, eat enough, and not exercise some days.
I had blood tests drawn and my doctor said I was hypoglycemic (59 fasting) and told me to eat more and exercise less. A doctor actually told me to eat more and exercise less. How many times do you hear doctors say that? And say that TO ME. It's absurd, and if you had told me that 16 months ago I wouldn't have believed you.
But I didn't want to do that so I modified what I ate and have the episodes under control for the most part, and my down days are few and far apart. And the good days are GOOD. So I pretty much show up and give it my all and on days without vertigo or dizziness I'm like a kid in a candy store when I exercise because I get full use of my body. I used to say that I was lucky that my body followed me everywhere. It doesn't anymore. But I still follow my credo: Do what you can, when you can. And when I can, I enjoy the hell out of it.
I'm still undergoing tests to see what's going on. Work in progress. I've had to become my own advocate and research and go back with test codes so that the doctor can write me lab slips. This whole journey has made me a bit more assured of myself.
So on dizzy days I stay home and read or watch TV (I can't even get out of bed, I stumble standing up). And I rest and sleep. And on good days I work out 2-4 hours. I still go to group classes but I take it down instead of up. What I can, when I can.
Most of the time if I don't turn or bend over I can take a group class without much difficulty, and I found I can take spin while sick or dizzy just by holding on very tight to the handlebars to keep me on top of the bike.
Losing the reason to run - and gaining it back (July-August 2010).
Something happened in July 2010. What happened is not going to the focus of this post, but rather what emerged from it. I used to run for other people. When I ran, I didn't run for me. I ran because other people thought I could run, because other people believed in me. I'd picture other people running alongside me or holding a rope pulling me forward. I was very extrinsic when it came to running. It didn't come from inside, it came from outside. But outside sources of motivation are not always available. What do you do in that situation? And that's exactly the kind of situation I found myself in on July 2010. I almost stopped running. I almost stopped doing triathlons. And I had to decide. Who, and what, was I running for? I decided I had to change. I couldn't run "for" other people anymore. I had to run for me. When it came down to the line, I had to be enough. I had to be able to go out there "alone" and make it because of me, not because of someone else. And I really changed in July and August 2010 and I switched from running extrinsically to running intrinsically, and I decided the strength and determination to run had to come from inside, not outside. Motivation and pep talks and people who believe in you are of course wonderful and always welcome, but first and foremost, you have to believe in yourself.
I suffered a loss that month (not from death, call it geographically moving away). And it was 13 months after my dad died (which, by the way, I'm probably not over it; I'm probably still in denial over that one.... nothing I can do but wait it out). So I told myself, look what happened when dad died. You transformed your life. Not on purpose, but it happened. You took this huge loss and turned it into the most wonderful thing you ever did for yourself. So how can you take this current situation and make it into something good? It was at that point that I started embracing mistakes because they just showed me what not to do next time. I was always one of those people paralyzed by the fear of making mistakes. But I've found that you can learn more when things DON'T go your way.
So those were two major shifts I underwent in late July early August, and they have shaped who I'm becoming tremendously. And it's all part of the journey. I don't know where it leads, but I know I'm enjoying the hell out of the ride. And now I'm starting to understand motivation. Why get out there in 100+ degree weather and attempt to run 50 miles? Because it's hard and overcoming it builds character and it makes you fight against all your fears and insecurities. In essence, every obstacle you overcome makes you a better person.
I suffered a loss that month (not from death, call it geographically moving away). And it was 13 months after my dad died (which, by the way, I'm probably not over it; I'm probably still in denial over that one.... nothing I can do but wait it out). So I told myself, look what happened when dad died. You transformed your life. Not on purpose, but it happened. You took this huge loss and turned it into the most wonderful thing you ever did for yourself. So how can you take this current situation and make it into something good? It was at that point that I started embracing mistakes because they just showed me what not to do next time. I was always one of those people paralyzed by the fear of making mistakes. But I've found that you can learn more when things DON'T go your way.
So those were two major shifts I underwent in late July early August, and they have shaped who I'm becoming tremendously. And it's all part of the journey. I don't know where it leads, but I know I'm enjoying the hell out of the ride. And now I'm starting to understand motivation. Why get out there in 100+ degree weather and attempt to run 50 miles? Because it's hard and overcoming it builds character and it makes you fight against all your fears and insecurities. In essence, every obstacle you overcome makes you a better person.
The Aftermath From The Marathon (6/26/10-October 2010).
I finished the marathon, got in the car, and drove home. It was time to go to work. I had taken Friday night off in order to sleep for the marathon but I hadn't taken Saturday night off. I was hoping to finish with enough time to sleep a few hours. I finished in 9 hours and 15 minutes, or at 7:15pm or so. I work at 9:15p. It takes about an hour to get home and 15 minutes to get to work. I got home, and I knew I wasn't going to go to work that day. In retrospect, I have no idea how I thought I could do my first marathon and then go to work. Looking back, it's laughable. Live and learn.
By the time I got home I started to hurt. I think what really messed up my recovery was the sunburn. I had the sunburn from hell (from running Running with the Devil without sunscreen). There are so many things I could have done without the sunburn: Touch my skin, massage, go into the jacuzzi, stretch, etc. I couldn't touch my body. It was a sunburn so bad I was shaking uncontrollably. There were blisters and peeling galore and I think it took two weeks to subside. The sunburn along with the aches and pain made it painful to walk, sit, lay, anything, really. I could only lay on one side, not on my back. I could not make contact with my calves, it hurt too much. It took me 10-20 minutes to make it up the stairs and lay in bed, and then I called in sick. Then I had to go to the bathroom. Because of the sunburn it was an ordeal to get into and out of bed. I strongly considered wetting the bed. I could always change the sheets. It took me 10 minutes to work up the courage to go to the bathroom. I couldn't sit properly on the toilet because of the sunburn. By now my legs were starting to really hurt because of the run and it hurt to stand up, sit down, walk. I hobbled, and poorly at that. I was a mess. I was not expecting that. It was then that I realized I had finally met my match. And I had finally done it. I had finally broken myself.
I somehow went to sleep that night, Saturday night. And Sunday I stayed home all day in bed on one side only trying to move as little as possible trying to let the body heal. I did go to work Sunday night. I don't know how I managed to wear pants. I almost didn't, work dress code be damned. Monday I got the bright idea of taking an aqua class. Because of the sunburn, the jacuzzi was out of the question. And I don't know why I got the idea in my head of taking an aqua class, I just did. And I got in the pool. Suzi was teaching, my first class with Suzi. When I got out an hour later, my hobbling started resembling a walk. I was almost walking normally. It healed me tremendously. Next marathon I'm getting into a pool as soon as possible after the event. It was the most wonderful thing ever. I credit Suzi and her aqua class in getting me to walk normally again. Tuesday, another aqua class. Getting better and better, able to sit and stand better. Wednesday, spin. It hurt at the beginning but it was like getting creaky gears turning again, the more they turned, the better they turned. It was literally rehabbing myself, like my body needed to learn how to move again, like it forgot how to move.
And I experienced the most curious thing ever. I couldn't run. I would think, ok, Debbie, RUN!! And I would inch forward and .... nothing. I think I wasn't able to run until Thursday and it was only a mild trot for a few paces. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. I lost the ability to run. It was like my body was scared of running, like it thought that if it ran for me again I would put it through another marathon. If you ever watched Speed Racer (the cartoons), there's an episode where SR crashes and gets scared of racing and Pops straps him to a chair making him watch a racing simulator while SR sweats. That's how it was. Especially with cycle, I think cycle got me running again because it taught my body how to get used to that sense of speed again. It was really like I knew what steps to follow to rehab myself, as everything I did helped inch me along to recovery.
There is one thing that I didn't get back for a long time, and that was the mile in boot camp. In a sense I never got it back. I've written how I started running that mile in the back of the pack and I even got there first on occasion, but mostly towards the front. After the marathon, I was next to last every single time or last. I lost my mile. And I quit boot camp before getting it back. It wasn't until October 26th 2010 that I finally regained the pre-marathon pace of 5.7 MPH (previous had been 5.56 MPH) for an hour. It took me exactly 4 months to come back from the marathon. They say it takes a week to recover for every mile ran in your first marathon. I ran 14 and walked 12.2 and it took me 17 weeks to recover. Sounds about right. And right after that run I regained the ability to blog. Something happened inside that took four months to heal. I definitely bit more than I could chew.
It was right around this time that I really got hooked into marathons and triathlons (even broken as I was) and I wanted to do endurance events = 26+ miles. 50, 100, 250, etc. And I started adding a run before boot camp. But I found that my body couldn't take the high impact of boot camp after the run, or maybe I hadn't healed properly yet. But I suffered. I hobbled. I hurt. And my last day of boot camp I was going DOWN towers barely able to move in a down incline and I just stopped and cried. I couldn't do that to myself any longer. I had to choose, triathlons or boot camp. Triathlons won. And so I quit book camp four short months after I started.
It is now October 30th, 2010, and I'm battling a flu, but I'm reading The Long Run by Matthew Long. It's very inspiring. I WILL do a Half Iron in 2011 and a Full Iron in 2012 or sooner. And one day I will run a full marathon. I have two Halfs coming up, at Valley of Fire on 11/20/10 (why do I always pick sites with hot imagery to them?) and the Las Vegas Rock n Roll on 12/05/10. Then let 2011 begin.
By the time I got home I started to hurt. I think what really messed up my recovery was the sunburn. I had the sunburn from hell (from running Running with the Devil without sunscreen). There are so many things I could have done without the sunburn: Touch my skin, massage, go into the jacuzzi, stretch, etc. I couldn't touch my body. It was a sunburn so bad I was shaking uncontrollably. There were blisters and peeling galore and I think it took two weeks to subside. The sunburn along with the aches and pain made it painful to walk, sit, lay, anything, really. I could only lay on one side, not on my back. I could not make contact with my calves, it hurt too much. It took me 10-20 minutes to make it up the stairs and lay in bed, and then I called in sick. Then I had to go to the bathroom. Because of the sunburn it was an ordeal to get into and out of bed. I strongly considered wetting the bed. I could always change the sheets. It took me 10 minutes to work up the courage to go to the bathroom. I couldn't sit properly on the toilet because of the sunburn. By now my legs were starting to really hurt because of the run and it hurt to stand up, sit down, walk. I hobbled, and poorly at that. I was a mess. I was not expecting that. It was then that I realized I had finally met my match. And I had finally done it. I had finally broken myself.
I somehow went to sleep that night, Saturday night. And Sunday I stayed home all day in bed on one side only trying to move as little as possible trying to let the body heal. I did go to work Sunday night. I don't know how I managed to wear pants. I almost didn't, work dress code be damned. Monday I got the bright idea of taking an aqua class. Because of the sunburn, the jacuzzi was out of the question. And I don't know why I got the idea in my head of taking an aqua class, I just did. And I got in the pool. Suzi was teaching, my first class with Suzi. When I got out an hour later, my hobbling started resembling a walk. I was almost walking normally. It healed me tremendously. Next marathon I'm getting into a pool as soon as possible after the event. It was the most wonderful thing ever. I credit Suzi and her aqua class in getting me to walk normally again. Tuesday, another aqua class. Getting better and better, able to sit and stand better. Wednesday, spin. It hurt at the beginning but it was like getting creaky gears turning again, the more they turned, the better they turned. It was literally rehabbing myself, like my body needed to learn how to move again, like it forgot how to move.
And I experienced the most curious thing ever. I couldn't run. I would think, ok, Debbie, RUN!! And I would inch forward and .... nothing. I think I wasn't able to run until Thursday and it was only a mild trot for a few paces. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. I lost the ability to run. It was like my body was scared of running, like it thought that if it ran for me again I would put it through another marathon. If you ever watched Speed Racer (the cartoons), there's an episode where SR crashes and gets scared of racing and Pops straps him to a chair making him watch a racing simulator while SR sweats. That's how it was. Especially with cycle, I think cycle got me running again because it taught my body how to get used to that sense of speed again. It was really like I knew what steps to follow to rehab myself, as everything I did helped inch me along to recovery.
There is one thing that I didn't get back for a long time, and that was the mile in boot camp. In a sense I never got it back. I've written how I started running that mile in the back of the pack and I even got there first on occasion, but mostly towards the front. After the marathon, I was next to last every single time or last. I lost my mile. And I quit boot camp before getting it back. It wasn't until October 26th 2010 that I finally regained the pre-marathon pace of 5.7 MPH (previous had been 5.56 MPH) for an hour. It took me exactly 4 months to come back from the marathon. They say it takes a week to recover for every mile ran in your first marathon. I ran 14 and walked 12.2 and it took me 17 weeks to recover. Sounds about right. And right after that run I regained the ability to blog. Something happened inside that took four months to heal. I definitely bit more than I could chew.
It was right around this time that I really got hooked into marathons and triathlons (even broken as I was) and I wanted to do endurance events = 26+ miles. 50, 100, 250, etc. And I started adding a run before boot camp. But I found that my body couldn't take the high impact of boot camp after the run, or maybe I hadn't healed properly yet. But I suffered. I hobbled. I hurt. And my last day of boot camp I was going DOWN towers barely able to move in a down incline and I just stopped and cried. I couldn't do that to myself any longer. I had to choose, triathlons or boot camp. Triathlons won. And so I quit book camp four short months after I started.
It is now October 30th, 2010, and I'm battling a flu, but I'm reading The Long Run by Matthew Long. It's very inspiring. I WILL do a Half Iron in 2011 and a Full Iron in 2012 or sooner. And one day I will run a full marathon. I have two Halfs coming up, at Valley of Fire on 11/20/10 (why do I always pick sites with hot imagery to them?) and the Las Vegas Rock n Roll on 12/05/10. Then let 2011 begin.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The Marathon (6/26/10)
I don't know why it's so hard to write about the marathon. I don't view it as a traumatic event, but here we are four months later and this entry has taken a long time and a lot out of me to write. Something happened in the marathon. Something happened inside. I think I broke myself. Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
The marathon was at Boulder Beach on Saturday, 6/26/2010. I wanted to do the marathon because I started working out on 7/3/09 and I started running in early January 2010, so if I somehow managed to do this it would be less than a year from the time I started working out and less than six months from the time I couldn't run 30 seconds. I hadn't trained -at all.- I wanted that for myself, and through sheer will alone I was going to do it. Sure, I could fail, but I had to try, and there was no time to train. I'd rather show up and fail than never having shown up at all, and I still feel that way. Show up and do what you can, when you can. I learned about the marathon I think not too long before the actual event. I was active, going to boot camp and taking classes at the gym, but other than boot camp I didn't run.
Running With The Devil Marathon runs along Lake Mead in Boulder City and is so named because the temperatures are in the 90's-100's. Right in the middle of summer. It's not just a marathon, it's a hot marathon. Not the kind of marathon they advise for a first-timer. It started I believe at 10a, fairly late because they wanted the sun to be nice and hot for us. Most events start at 6a or so.
I woke up early and had all my supplies ready from the night before: fanny pack with 10 protein bars, iPod with my marathon playlist, carb chews, electrolyte pills, and cell phone (I never run without my cell phone fully charged, never know what may happen, especially when I'm running in the middle of nowhere, but I tend to not be ON it while I run). Race materials. Boot camp shirt, bandanna, and dog tags. CamelBak. I was good to go. I decided that the extra weight was worth it, that I'd rather be over-prepared.
I got there with over half an hour left. I weighed in and then went back to the car to relax before the race. 16 of water down, port-a-potty visit, retie shoes, check my supplies. All good.
Race time. We bunched up as a group and took a picture. Then it was off, nice easy pace to start. There were stations every three miles or so, with a weigh-in halfway to make sure you didn't lose 4% of your body weigh or you were disqualified. Lose 2% and you had to rehydrate yourself before continuing. The stations were interesting. I brought supplies to be self-sufficient and only stopped to refill the CamelBak, but by the end, I was so grateful they were there and I was sitting, drinking, eating. I got so excited when I saw gummi bears. And ate a lot of bread with peanut butter. The bananas were kind of gross because of the heat and so were the potatoes and salt so I skipped them.
Right at the beginning within the first 2-3 miles something was wrong. I felt kind of dizzy but I didn't know why. Ate a protein bar. Took an electrolyte pill. Ate a carb chew. Drank some water. Then I felt well, so ONE of those things helped. That was the only protein bar I ate. They were too "heavy" to run with. I like that, trying to figure out what's wrong by listening to your body and fixing it. I didn't felt unwell the rest of the marathon. And right towards the beginning my knee was hurting (which it had been doing for a couple of weeks) but I massaged it briefly and it held up well. I was going to wear a knee brace but I decided against it as I felt it added too much bulk and restricted mobility. I WAS wearing an ankle brace.
I ran a total of 14 miles, so I ran a full half-marathon. I will add times later but I got there about 3.5 hours after I started. I actually GAINED weight mid-way, which I guess it's ok. You don't get disqualified for gaining weight. I didn't go to the bathroom until very late into the marathon and I think I only went once, maybe twice, and not really because I had to go but because I could not be certain I wouldn't need within the next three miles and I didn't want to go on the side of the road.
I don't know why I stopped running at mile 14. My body just knew. I think that's my biggest strength, I know when to push and when to back away, so I'm not really worried about pushing my body. Then I had to get back to the car, 12.2 miles away. It was going to take hours, and I was not looking forward to it, but sometimes it's harder to quit than to keep going. So I started walking back. Up to that moment I really truly believed I was going to run 26.2 miles out of sheer will. I was going to do it. And I don't quit. When I run a race I'm either going to faint or finish. So far I've finished. I get into that I'm going all-out mentality where -nothing- will stop me. It really started with that run to the wall in boot camp. The floor or the wall. Collapsing or the finish line. There's no in-betweens. So for me it was very hard to start walking. Because I couldn't say I ran a marathon. I've amended it to say I've completed a marathon and then explain I ran 14 miles and walked 12.2, and I incidentally ran my first half-marathon. One day I will run 26.2 miles straight, it's just a matter of time. And it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I really think that if the distance had been half a mile longer I wouldn't have made it. I used to think you could walk forever. I was wrong. I really think I went beyond what my body could. People said I could have died. I say yeah. And see, the thing is, you don't really WANT to die. You don't really think you're going to die. And you're probably not going to die. There's ambulances. The body will shut down (faint) probably before any long-term damage is done. People at the rest stops will stop you from continuing. There's many contingencies. Do people die at marathons? Sure, but it's very uncommon. And what people don't get is that this is the same as rock climbing or motocross racing or even trick bicycling. It's about pushing against something and having a little bit of risk. It's about going against nature, and winning. Heck, my dad died at home going down the stairs. And people tell me I'm chasing death with all that I do, that I'm looking to join him. And that actually is as far away from the truth as you can get. By dying the way he did he left me with the ability to overcome fear. When I was about to skydive from the plane yeah I thought I could die, but what was I going do, go home because home is safer? Dad showed me that you can't be afraid of life because death can come anytime, anywhere, and in any shape. So live life. Fully. And all of this has actually allowed me to live life like never before. I've lived more in the past 16 months than in the previous 31 years of my life. So no, it actually isn't about having a death wish. All of this is about having a life wish. I'm sick and tired of laying in bed at home being scared of life. I'm going to go out there and experience it.
Another thing that people fail to realize is that it has been 16 months. How reckless can I be that I have done a lot of crazy stuff and I'm still in one piece? And that's where we come back to knowing when to push and when to pull back. Have that ability and you feel secure in that whatever happens, you'll make it out intact at the other side. It can't ALL be dumb luck, I'm sure my actions have carried me a long way in being safe and healthy. And, after all, if I die or get injured then I can't do the next crazy thing, and it's all about the next crazy thing.
So I started walking at mile 14. It was going to be a long way home. Then came Mile 17. Something happened on Mile 17. I was going to get to the next rest station and I was going to ask to be driven back. I was done. Close to five hours by then. You had to finish the whole thing within ten hours. I was finished. I was ready for the experience to be over. Hey, I ran a half marathon, so I got THAT out of the day. Debbie, who never quit, was throwing in the towel. I wanted to go home and forget this marathon had ever happened. I had enough adventure for a while.
Then, all of a sudden, I realized that I had just climbed this monster hill, the worst part of the course, and, within half a mile of the station where I was going to quit, I was ok. I could finish. It was then, around mile 17.5, that I knew I was going to finish. I didn't think I was going to finish, I knew I was going to finish.
I'm glad I had nail clippers with me. I kept using them trying to get rid of a nail until I figured out the pain was actually a bit of skin that had rubbed off, and was a bit raw. Sat at the side of the road clipping a handful of times. Somewhere after the half-way mark (I think) I gave away all the protein bars, they added too much weight. First I left some at a table then I dumped the rest on another table at a different rest stop. I didn't drink much, but then again I'm not a big drinker, I go on one-hour runs without water all the time. Next time it's just me and the CamelBak, I feel secure that the rest stops will provide all the nourishment I need.
Oh, and the electrolyte pills. It is my belief that those electrolyte pills are what allowed me to finish. They were a lifesaver. Who cares if it was mental or physical, I think they really helped. I started with a schedule, two electrolyte pills and a carb chew every mile, then whenever I felt I needed one, then towards the end I stopped taking them. I may just take them as needed next time. The carb chews, which I had in the fridge since the day before so that they were nice and cold, were a gooey hot mess by midway. Nothing to do about that during a marathon called Running with the Devil.
When I was within 0.80 miles of the end, another runner collapsed (but was still conscious). Something about his calves locking up and he was done. I offered him carb chews, electrolyte pills, but he said no, it was too late. He was doing the 50 miles and he got stuck and unable to finish and picked up by ambulance 0.80 miles from the end. Me? I would have been rolling to the finish line. You don't need your calves to roll.
Towards the end I started sitting at rest stops and I realized I was going to burn, bad. I hadn't put on ANY sunscreen and I literally could feel my calves sizzling and people kept exclaiming at how pink they were, and around mile 20 I started getting sunscreen put on by others at rest stops. I could barely move. There was this other runner who was about to get a special prize by completing a certain number of Calico Racing events and he didn't think he could finish. I told him that all I had waiting for me at the finish line was going to work that night, that he could at least look forward to a prize. He did finish, in over 10 hours.
I finished in 9 hours and 15 minutes. When I was going through the finish line someone cheered and I gave a little whoop, but I didn't feel it. You're supposed to feel this rush of euphoria at finishing your first marathon, but I felt nothing. I had nothing left to feel with. There was nothing left inside, no energy to form emotions with. I got in the car and went home after picking up my medal. It was time to go to work.
In the next entry I will discuss the repercussions of the marathon. And believe me, there were many. But to this day, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I asked myself when I stopped running where was the Debbie who never quit. It turned out she was there all along. I truly believe I gave it all I had and more and it took me to the brink and back. And that's an experience that lasts you for a lifetime.
The marathon was at Boulder Beach on Saturday, 6/26/2010. I wanted to do the marathon because I started working out on 7/3/09 and I started running in early January 2010, so if I somehow managed to do this it would be less than a year from the time I started working out and less than six months from the time I couldn't run 30 seconds. I hadn't trained -at all.- I wanted that for myself, and through sheer will alone I was going to do it. Sure, I could fail, but I had to try, and there was no time to train. I'd rather show up and fail than never having shown up at all, and I still feel that way. Show up and do what you can, when you can. I learned about the marathon I think not too long before the actual event. I was active, going to boot camp and taking classes at the gym, but other than boot camp I didn't run.
Running With The Devil Marathon runs along Lake Mead in Boulder City and is so named because the temperatures are in the 90's-100's. Right in the middle of summer. It's not just a marathon, it's a hot marathon. Not the kind of marathon they advise for a first-timer. It started I believe at 10a, fairly late because they wanted the sun to be nice and hot for us. Most events start at 6a or so.
I woke up early and had all my supplies ready from the night before: fanny pack with 10 protein bars, iPod with my marathon playlist, carb chews, electrolyte pills, and cell phone (I never run without my cell phone fully charged, never know what may happen, especially when I'm running in the middle of nowhere, but I tend to not be ON it while I run). Race materials. Boot camp shirt, bandanna, and dog tags. CamelBak. I was good to go. I decided that the extra weight was worth it, that I'd rather be over-prepared.
I got there with over half an hour left. I weighed in and then went back to the car to relax before the race. 16 of water down, port-a-potty visit, retie shoes, check my supplies. All good.
Race time. We bunched up as a group and took a picture. Then it was off, nice easy pace to start. There were stations every three miles or so, with a weigh-in halfway to make sure you didn't lose 4% of your body weigh or you were disqualified. Lose 2% and you had to rehydrate yourself before continuing. The stations were interesting. I brought supplies to be self-sufficient and only stopped to refill the CamelBak, but by the end, I was so grateful they were there and I was sitting, drinking, eating. I got so excited when I saw gummi bears. And ate a lot of bread with peanut butter. The bananas were kind of gross because of the heat and so were the potatoes and salt so I skipped them.
Right at the beginning within the first 2-3 miles something was wrong. I felt kind of dizzy but I didn't know why. Ate a protein bar. Took an electrolyte pill. Ate a carb chew. Drank some water. Then I felt well, so ONE of those things helped. That was the only protein bar I ate. They were too "heavy" to run with. I like that, trying to figure out what's wrong by listening to your body and fixing it. I didn't felt unwell the rest of the marathon. And right towards the beginning my knee was hurting (which it had been doing for a couple of weeks) but I massaged it briefly and it held up well. I was going to wear a knee brace but I decided against it as I felt it added too much bulk and restricted mobility. I WAS wearing an ankle brace.
I ran a total of 14 miles, so I ran a full half-marathon. I will add times later but I got there about 3.5 hours after I started. I actually GAINED weight mid-way, which I guess it's ok. You don't get disqualified for gaining weight. I didn't go to the bathroom until very late into the marathon and I think I only went once, maybe twice, and not really because I had to go but because I could not be certain I wouldn't need within the next three miles and I didn't want to go on the side of the road.
I don't know why I stopped running at mile 14. My body just knew. I think that's my biggest strength, I know when to push and when to back away, so I'm not really worried about pushing my body. Then I had to get back to the car, 12.2 miles away. It was going to take hours, and I was not looking forward to it, but sometimes it's harder to quit than to keep going. So I started walking back. Up to that moment I really truly believed I was going to run 26.2 miles out of sheer will. I was going to do it. And I don't quit. When I run a race I'm either going to faint or finish. So far I've finished. I get into that I'm going all-out mentality where -nothing- will stop me. It really started with that run to the wall in boot camp. The floor or the wall. Collapsing or the finish line. There's no in-betweens. So for me it was very hard to start walking. Because I couldn't say I ran a marathon. I've amended it to say I've completed a marathon and then explain I ran 14 miles and walked 12.2, and I incidentally ran my first half-marathon. One day I will run 26.2 miles straight, it's just a matter of time. And it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I really think that if the distance had been half a mile longer I wouldn't have made it. I used to think you could walk forever. I was wrong. I really think I went beyond what my body could. People said I could have died. I say yeah. And see, the thing is, you don't really WANT to die. You don't really think you're going to die. And you're probably not going to die. There's ambulances. The body will shut down (faint) probably before any long-term damage is done. People at the rest stops will stop you from continuing. There's many contingencies. Do people die at marathons? Sure, but it's very uncommon. And what people don't get is that this is the same as rock climbing or motocross racing or even trick bicycling. It's about pushing against something and having a little bit of risk. It's about going against nature, and winning. Heck, my dad died at home going down the stairs. And people tell me I'm chasing death with all that I do, that I'm looking to join him. And that actually is as far away from the truth as you can get. By dying the way he did he left me with the ability to overcome fear. When I was about to skydive from the plane yeah I thought I could die, but what was I going do, go home because home is safer? Dad showed me that you can't be afraid of life because death can come anytime, anywhere, and in any shape. So live life. Fully. And all of this has actually allowed me to live life like never before. I've lived more in the past 16 months than in the previous 31 years of my life. So no, it actually isn't about having a death wish. All of this is about having a life wish. I'm sick and tired of laying in bed at home being scared of life. I'm going to go out there and experience it.
Another thing that people fail to realize is that it has been 16 months. How reckless can I be that I have done a lot of crazy stuff and I'm still in one piece? And that's where we come back to knowing when to push and when to pull back. Have that ability and you feel secure in that whatever happens, you'll make it out intact at the other side. It can't ALL be dumb luck, I'm sure my actions have carried me a long way in being safe and healthy. And, after all, if I die or get injured then I can't do the next crazy thing, and it's all about the next crazy thing.
So I started walking at mile 14. It was going to be a long way home. Then came Mile 17. Something happened on Mile 17. I was going to get to the next rest station and I was going to ask to be driven back. I was done. Close to five hours by then. You had to finish the whole thing within ten hours. I was finished. I was ready for the experience to be over. Hey, I ran a half marathon, so I got THAT out of the day. Debbie, who never quit, was throwing in the towel. I wanted to go home and forget this marathon had ever happened. I had enough adventure for a while.
Then, all of a sudden, I realized that I had just climbed this monster hill, the worst part of the course, and, within half a mile of the station where I was going to quit, I was ok. I could finish. It was then, around mile 17.5, that I knew I was going to finish. I didn't think I was going to finish, I knew I was going to finish.
I'm glad I had nail clippers with me. I kept using them trying to get rid of a nail until I figured out the pain was actually a bit of skin that had rubbed off, and was a bit raw. Sat at the side of the road clipping a handful of times. Somewhere after the half-way mark (I think) I gave away all the protein bars, they added too much weight. First I left some at a table then I dumped the rest on another table at a different rest stop. I didn't drink much, but then again I'm not a big drinker, I go on one-hour runs without water all the time. Next time it's just me and the CamelBak, I feel secure that the rest stops will provide all the nourishment I need.
Oh, and the electrolyte pills. It is my belief that those electrolyte pills are what allowed me to finish. They were a lifesaver. Who cares if it was mental or physical, I think they really helped. I started with a schedule, two electrolyte pills and a carb chew every mile, then whenever I felt I needed one, then towards the end I stopped taking them. I may just take them as needed next time. The carb chews, which I had in the fridge since the day before so that they were nice and cold, were a gooey hot mess by midway. Nothing to do about that during a marathon called Running with the Devil.
When I was within 0.80 miles of the end, another runner collapsed (but was still conscious). Something about his calves locking up and he was done. I offered him carb chews, electrolyte pills, but he said no, it was too late. He was doing the 50 miles and he got stuck and unable to finish and picked up by ambulance 0.80 miles from the end. Me? I would have been rolling to the finish line. You don't need your calves to roll.
Towards the end I started sitting at rest stops and I realized I was going to burn, bad. I hadn't put on ANY sunscreen and I literally could feel my calves sizzling and people kept exclaiming at how pink they were, and around mile 20 I started getting sunscreen put on by others at rest stops. I could barely move. There was this other runner who was about to get a special prize by completing a certain number of Calico Racing events and he didn't think he could finish. I told him that all I had waiting for me at the finish line was going to work that night, that he could at least look forward to a prize. He did finish, in over 10 hours.
I finished in 9 hours and 15 minutes. When I was going through the finish line someone cheered and I gave a little whoop, but I didn't feel it. You're supposed to feel this rush of euphoria at finishing your first marathon, but I felt nothing. I had nothing left to feel with. There was nothing left inside, no energy to form emotions with. I got in the car and went home after picking up my medal. It was time to go to work.
In the next entry I will discuss the repercussions of the marathon. And believe me, there were many. But to this day, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I asked myself when I stopped running where was the Debbie who never quit. It turned out she was there all along. I truly believe I gave it all I had and more and it took me to the brink and back. And that's an experience that lasts you for a lifetime.
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