Tuesday, March 5, 2013

A Little More Than Crazy...

I'd been looking forward to running NOLA with George for months, yet as it finally drew near I found myself wishing for a little more time.  After taking time off from training to heal I was struggling to get back into it.  Having put in just two 3 mile easy runs and 2 lifting sessions in January and only 2 miles on the treadmill in February, I was REALLY neeeding a little time to train.  Just a couple weeks before NOLA I also got word that George and I would be running the Rock N Roll Madrid FULL marathon together at the end of April!  This lit a fire under me to start training as my longest run to date is 14 miles and that was in late 2009.  Unfortunately, the day after getting the news I also got sick.  Plagued by nausea and vomiting for 9 days I dropped 9lbs and had zero energy.  I managed to hold down 1/2 of a GU in a week.  By the afternoon of day 9 I sat on my couch feeling a horrible tightness in my chest and across my back.  Being my hard headed self, I attributed this all to stress as I currently have A LOT going on.  However, that night when I woke up at 2AM with my head about to explode and a fever of 102.7, I could no longer deny something was amiss.  After literally lying in bed for the remaining hours of the night whimpering like a puppy I was so miserable, I drug myself to the urgent care in the morning.   I dismissed the nurses alarm over my "low blood pressure" because it was actually a little high for my normal...a perk of running.  A quick EKG looked normal.  Surprisingly I was able to give them a small urine sample (I was so dehydrated I literally hadn't had to pee in days).  A shot of anti-nausea meds in the bottom was probably the most painful part of the day; and they sent in the bloodwork folks.  I warned them how hard my veins are to find under normal circumstances and that I was really dehydrated so it would likely be worse.  As usual, my warning was dismissed.  It always amazes me when medical professionals think they know my body better than I do - I realize they are just confident in their skills, but I've lived in this body for nearly 4 decades...I've seen lots of folks with great skills not find my veins!  After folks tried in vain to get a line in, they were finally able to draw 3 small tubes of blood and began lecturing me about how thick my blood was and therefore how dehydrated I was - well duh!  They attempted to get an IV in the line and it had already clotted in the needle.  A few more attempts to find a new vein and they finally gave up.  After reporting to the doctor that an IV wasn't going to happen, she sent in 2 more folks.  I warned them as well and my warnings were again met with confidence bordering cockiness.  The doctor finally joined them in their attempts.  They all failed; and I was ordered to the ER for fluids, my arms and  hands butchered and it doubtful there was a vein left to attempt. 

At the ER, with all of my results in hand from the urgent care, the doctor tossed aside their findings and started from scratch.  Another EKG came back fine and another woman came in to find a vein.  I warned her as well, though for once in my life someone seemed to "get it".  She took her time analyzing all of the previous attempts, asked a few questions about what has worked for others in the past, and got a line in on the first try!  After drawing more blood for tests and also commenting on how thick it was, another nurse attached a few liters of IV fluids to me.  I was then escorted to a large room full of recliners with a sign on the desk that said "Your Nurse is Diana, call - X1735", handed a cup, and told they'd need a urine sample, and left alone.  I was VERY puzzled as to whether they expected me to pee in this cup in this large, public room or detach myself from the IVs and find the bathroom, so I just settled myself into a recliner and figured somebody would show up eventually.  About a liter of fluid later, someone indeed did show up, changed the name on the sign, and asked if I had a urine sample.  When I said they'd given me a cup she immediately busted out laughing and asked if they expected me to go in there.  She came over and unhooked me then pointed out the restroom.  I suppose the fluids were helping because I was able to produce another small sample, though at this point it was more aggravating than anything else as it just underscored how ridiculously dehydrated I was.  My IV reattached, I sat and waited until the doctor came in and lectured me about my unhealthy weight loss.  At this point I was more than a little irrate with these folks.  Looking this fellow in the eyes I said, "I'm a runner.  Because of that I'm a little more in tune with my body than most.  I can tell you my resting metabolism is 1440....not due to some generic calculation but because I've had it tested.  Knowing that and applying the fact that it takes a 3500 calorie deficit to lose one pound, simple math would tell you that with zero activity, just basic body functions, it would take me over 21 days to lose 9lbs...I've done it in 9 days.  Do you think I don't realize how unhealthy this is?  I also realize that most of this is likely water weight because I'm completely dehydrated.  My urine sample was somewhere between apple juice and ice tea!  In addition to all of this, I am suppose to run my first full marathon in less than 10 weeks.  I can't train if I can fuel and hydrate.  I wouldn't be here if I was TRYING to make this happen."  Apparently this eased his mind and he let me know they'd given me anti-nausea meds in my IV and he'd be writing me a script for more.  He hoped these and the IV fluids would help, but to see my PCP if I wasn't better by next week.  With that he headed out of the room.  I stopped him to ask if he had any reason for the nausea and fever to begin with and he commented that my white blood cell count was low so it was likely a virus and went on his way.  With that I was discharged.  Two days later I was on a plane to NOLA and still hadn't held any food down, I was really beginning to doubt I'd be able to pull 13.1 in a matter of days.

When I arrived in NOLA I grabbed a cab to the Hard Rock Cafe as George was working.  A quick hello/chat/key exchange and I set off to his flat.  It was just five blocks (one over and 4 down) so I walked it.  On the corner of the first block I saw a Walgrens and ducked in for water.  I grabbed a bottle of water, 2 bottles of Gatorade, bag of peppermints (to settle the stomach), can of chicken soup (it actually sounded good) and loaf of bread; and headed on my way.  Dragging my roll aboard suitcase, with my duffle bag on my shoulder, coat over my arm, and 2 grocery bags around my wrist I stared at the road and tried to remember which way I'd come.  I turned left and set out on my way to George's, staring at the map on my phone.  I kept watching the little blue dot get further away from the little read dot and not understanding what I was seeing - yes I was feeling that bad.  A block and a half later I finally realized I was walking in the wrong direction and turned around.  Finally back at the Walgren's I was beginning to feel horrid.  As I walked the last two blocks I seriously considered sitting on the side of the road to rest - 13.1 miles was not looking promising when a few blocks was kicking my butt. 

I finally arrived at George's and dug in my pocket for the key to the gate.  As I fumbled around a couple came up, opened the gate, let themselves in, and immediately pulled it shut behind themselves while giving me a glare.  I glared back, finally found the key, and let myself in.  The guy looked startled, but didn't say a word.  I looked at the stairs in front of me and considered crying.
After trudging up the three flights of stairs (that I would normally have considered a really cool staircase), I put my key in the door...at this point the guy I exchanged glares with looked at me and "Oh hey, you're staying here?"  I glared, gave a sarcastic "yeah", and let myself in - don't be nice to me now, jerk!  I immediately plopped in a chair, assessed my temperature and heart rate, and realized there was a good chance I would be in NOLA for a visit, not a race.  After a while I got myself up and heated up my soup.  I managed to hold down most of the broth and a couple slices of bread, I couldn't even stand the thought of the contents of the soup.  I then got myself ready for bed and settled in for the night. 

Friday morning we slept late then laid around the flat chatting until George had to go to work at 11AM.  I needed the lazy morning.  Food still wasn't sounding pleasant but I was holding down Gatorade.  After Geo left I showered and got right for the day.  Seeing there was a Lululemon just a few blocks away I decided to walk over there and see if they had anything new.  Of course I'd ordered a new skirt for Sunday's race and paid an extra $25 to have it FEDEXed to me to ensure I'd have it before flying to NOLA.  I'd even thought 'maybe they have a lulu and I could buy it there'...but then quickly scratched the thought without even checking as that didn't seem a 'NOLA' feature.  Of course they had it, and had several in my size...but they didn't have anything else I liked and I was starting to feel bad again.  So, I walked the couple of blocks to HRC to visit Geo at work.  I knew I had to attempt food if I was going to have a prayer of completing the race Sunday, so I ordered some potato skins (the one thing that the thought of didn't make me want to vomit) and a Sprite.  I managed to eat 4 of the skins and sipped 2 or 3 Sprites; and felt better, but exhausted.  On the walk back to Geo's I stopped at Walgren's and grabbed more soup and water.  I immediately changed back into my jammies and didn't leave the flat again the rest of the day, I was beat.

I did walk out on the balcony a few times and easily fell in love with the french quarter.  The view was amazing.

The street performers filled the air with incredible music day and night, and parades were a regular occurence.

This was a whole different NOLA than my previous visit where I'd stayed in a hotel further away and just came in for the expo/race then left.  I'll definitely be going back when I'm well and can actually enjoy Mother NOLA.

Sherry got in Friday night and while she and Geo chatted she commented on how quiet I was.  It was a recurring theme all weekend as all of my friends saw me.  Everyone knew I wasn't feeling well/wasn't myself.  I fell asleep rather early Friday night, after eating my soup and bread - this time I managed to eat a few noodles, still none of the rest of it though.  And when I woke up Ethan was there, he'd gotten in sometime during the night.

By Saturday morning I was feeling a little better and began to think that if I improved as much between Saturday and Sunday as I had between Friday and Saturday that I could possibly finish the race so long as I walked most of it.  Again we laid around until midmorning, then after we cycled through our showers, we all headed to the expo (about a mile away).  Still not up to par, the expo was not the usual social experience.  We literally picked up our packets and I went directly to 2 boothes that I had planned to make purchases at - a new race belt (mine is dead) and Newtons (my running store hasn't had my size for the last few visits).  We said hello to one or two folks that we ran into, but didn't hang around visiting as we usually would; and headed directly to the Hard Rock for Geo's pin event. 

The Hard Rock Cafe had created a pin in George's likeness and on Saturday he was scheduled to sign autographs while the pins were sold. 

Many runners and George's fans showed up for the event. 

Ethan, Sherry, and I decided to eat as I actually felt like I could possibly handle a real meal and was afraid I wouldn't be able to later if I waited.  To my surprise I was able to finish up a steak, salad, and mashed potatoes, while sipping Sprite.  Afterwards I was again exhausted so we headed back to the flat.  I actually took a nap, woke up to visit a little, and then went to bed for the night.  It was beginning to dawn on me that if I were so sick that I was spending my entire visit  in NOLA in the flat in my jammies that perhaps finishing a half marathon was just a little more than crazy - but I laid out my race gear before going to sleep anyway. 

Sunday morning I felt pretty good comparatively speaking.  We headed to the start line and caught up with a few folks in the VIP tent. 

I'd seen Joe at the pin event as well - I love Joe...he keeps it real.  Saturday while everyone was telling me how great I looked and I knew otherwise, Joe says, "Don't take this wrong...but I can tell you're not feeling well."  I busted out laughing - finally someone was going to call a spade a spade!  It wasn't quite a 'you look like sh*!, but it wasn't the sugarcoated stuff I'd been getting either. 

I wasn't the only one that got the new Lulu skirt for this race.

In addition to folks I knew, I saw 3 more on the course as well! 

Despite a few brief conversations and laughs, it was still obvious I wasn't up to par as I hardly talked to anyone before the race.  I headed to the startline and got a text from Krissy asking where I was.  I told her and in no time she appeared near my corral.  She jumped in and asked my plan for today - I told her, quite simply, "to survive".  She appeared relieved and joined me. 

Mike McCready from Pearl Jam rocked the National Anthem

and we were off.  We kept a slow but steady pace through the first four miles and walked a waterstop right around the four mile mark.  Around 4 1/2 we stopped for a picture...a bead tree...how NOLA can you get?

The guy that took the pic gave us each a strand and we continued on our way. 

I'd managed to choke down a plain bagel in the morning, but I knew I was going to have to rely heavily on my GU during this race given how little nutrition I'd had in the previous few weeks.  I'd already used 2 by mile 6, but we were still keeping our steady pace and only walking water stops, and I was feeling pretty good.  Around mile 8 some of the GU wanted back up...but I won the fight...though I tasted it for quite a while.  Also at mile 8 Krissy's boyfriend joined us for a few miles as he is training for RNR USA.  As we went through the French Quarter I pointed out Geo's flat and let them know what to expect with the course.  As we turned to leave the Quarter at mile 10 I began to contemplate doing a few miles after finishing.  I felt pretty good and I needed to build my mileage for the upcoming full so it seemed reasonable.  I focused on how despite the fact that the small muscles in my legs were starting to tire (mostly my hip flexors), and my cardio base was down a little, I was still feeling good.  My body knew what it was supposed to be doing and wanted to go out harder and further, it just didn't have the fuel.  By the time we walked the waterstop around mile 11 1/2, all thoughts had shifted to crossing the finish line and being done!  Forget the extra miles!  Apparently I wasn't the only one...as we started running again Krissy and her boyfriend stayed slightly behind me.  I could hear them talking just over my shoulder.  As we approached the final mile I turned to say somethind they were no where to be seen.  I pressed on and knocked out the final mile solo.  I had nothing left in the tank for a final surge and was just happy to cross the line, collect my medal, and head to the engraver.  I didn't feel bad though...just no gas left.  I'd finished in 2:21:23 - a long way off of my fall races while training, but not bad considering.  After saying a quick hi to Emily at the Rock N Roll Jewelry booth I headed to the VIP area and joined Beth and Jim who'd also finished the half.  I couldn't help but be in awe of Beth who had spinal surgery 4 weeks before yet still managed to pull a faster half than I had!  This woman is incredible!

Jim asked how I was feeling and I'd no sooner told him good, than that all changed.  I was hit with wave after wave of nausea.  I quickly found a Sprite and searched out a plain bagel.  I found one of the last few bagels remaining from the morning and didn't care that it was dried out and ick.  One of the waiters tried to interest me in the lavish spread of food instead but the mere thought made my stomach turn (though on a 'normal' day it would've been amazing!).  Krissy caught back up with me and visited for a few.


Then I spent the next couple of hours choking down small bites of the dry bagel and sipping Sprite while waiting for my friends to finish the full.  My hip flexors started telling me how much they hated me after about 15 minutes of standing around and I had to frequently do some high knees to quiet them down. 

One of the major perks of running is the people you meet.  In NOLA I was lucky enough to meet Mike McCready.
and Steve Gleason

Steve played for the New Orleans Saints from 2000-2008.  Two years ago he was diagnosed with ALS.  His physical condition has deteriorated but his mental condition is stronger than ever.  Mike and his wife, Ashley, ran the half with Team Gleason Endurance Challenge to raise awareness and funds for individuals with muscular diseases.

As we waited, the rest of the gang began to trickle in, finishing up their full.  Everyone had a good race and a great time, and I was happy to hear of my friends' successes (though my unusually quiet demeanor let them know I wasn't up to par).  George signed a few autographs.
Then tended to a media opportunity before we headed back to the flat.  After a quick shower I went across the street to the market and grabbed another can of chicken soup and some rolls.  I contemplated some plain couscous but thought even that would be too much to stomach at the moment.  I managed to eat my soup, then we all napped.  Geo and I woke up a couple of hours later and went across the street to the market again.  I felt up to the couscous then, but nothing more.  I ended up choking down the couscous and not much of it and sipping another Sprite, then packing, and going back to sleep.  I woke up in time to head to the airport.  Despite having a good weekend and apparently much needed rest with all of the lying around the flat in my jammies, I can't help but think the fact that I ran the race in that condition was more than a little crazy.

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