A Day of Extremes

It was another amazing day…

Meb and Hillary

One class act.

Records were made, others broken, along with what I’m sure were more than a few hearts and dreams.  Once again, the amazing people of the city of Boston opened up their homes and their hearts, and welcomed the world to one of it’s most prestigious races.  And as usual, I laughed and cried my way through the hours of live coverage, all the while thanking the race gods for keeping my phone from ringing so I could watch every moment.  While at work.  Thank god for understanding bosses.

Not my boss.  But she could be.

Not my boss. But she could be.

All of this was somewhat tempered by the phone call that I knew was coming.  You know the one.  “Yes ma’am, have your dupa to the hospital two hours early so you can sit around on it while we waste your time, and eventually get around to knocking you out, slicing you open, waking you up, and kicking you out the door with a set of crutches your insurance probably won’t pay for and a prescription for painkillers that we know you don’t want but we’re going to make you take anyway.”  Yeah, that one.  Cue dramatic music…dunhdunhduuuuunnnnhhhhh!!!  Yup, it’s SURGERY TIME.

Aaaaaggggghhhhh!!!!!

Aaaaaggggghhhhh!!!!!

You all know my head is typically one of these to begin with.

Welcome to my brain.

Welcome to my brain.

Knowing the time has finally come to hopefully get one of my knees fixed has the brain in all-out F5 tornadic activity.  I SO need this surgery to work if I’m going to keep distance running.  Especially since I’ll need to have it done on both of these friggin’ kneecaps.  The one thing that’s got me all freaked out?

Awake Movie

All right, this wasn’t exactly the movie I saw umpteen years ago about people going under the knife and the anesthesia not working, but you get where I’m going here, right?  Let’s just say I don’t have a great relationship with anesthesia.  (Just ask the hubs about that unfortunate wisdom teeth incident.  It wasn’t pretty.)

All that aside though, I’m looking forward to what will hopefully be a new, long, and happy relationship with my lower body joints.  I have absolutely no idea what comes next as far therapy goes, but I’m feverishly holding on to the hope that 4-6 weeks from now, this Black Dog will be adding more miles onto her pretty pink Brooks.  (And subtracting some of the inches on the aforementioned dupa.)

So as you head out the door to your day tomorrow, just take a second and send some pixie dust my way.  And hope that it makes the anesthesia work just a little.bit.better.

Yeah, that should do it.

Yup, that should do it.

Enjoy the ride.

Ever been nervous about having surgery?  Everything turn out all right?  Am I being a total nutball about this?  Perhaps watching that movie “Coma” might not be such a good idea tonight?

Here We Go. Again.

So today’s the day.  I THINK.  As I write this, I STILL don’t know if my visit to The MAN has been approved by my insurance company.  Because GOD FORBID I go see The MAN without their approval.  Apparently, that could end the universe as we know it with earthquaking, dream-shattering, lifeasweknowitwillcometoacrashinghaltwithfireandscreamingcatsanddogsrainingdownfromtheheavens kind of consequences.  You know?

Oh the HORROR!

Oh the HORROR!

Even though my insurance company was called a WEEK ago about this, they still haven’t given it the official thumbs up.  Note I said a WEEK AGO.  No wonder my blood pressure is gaining momentum in an upwardly direction.  As it’s a bit of a PITA to get the time off from work to actually go and see The MAN – because why would any doctor EVER think to have office hours after 3pm? – I had to make some alternate scheduling changes in order to do what I have to get done at work and still be able to go The MAN.  And once again, Big Brother insurance company is taking their sweet time deciding whether or not they will allow it.  Of course, I would still go anyway, and pay for it myself, but really now.  Why should I?  Isn’t that what I pay THEM for every month?

Aspirin?  Not without a referral!

Aspirin? Not without a referral!

Okay.  Now that I have THAT out of my system, (stay tuned right here to BDRD for what may turn out to be one hell of an update!), let’s move on shall we?

The hubs, who is kind enough to be accompanying me on my little trip into OrthoLand, threw this one out at me last night. “Are you prepared if the doctor says NOT to run your race next weekend?”  This of course, was followed by my very best Scooby-Doo imitation.

Huuuuh???

Huuuuh???

What???  NOT run the Wine and Dine???  Why would he EVER say THAT?!?  I just ran 10 miles on Sunday!  Am I sore?  Of COURSE I am…it was 10 MILES!  But I got through it – relatively pain-free, (at least for me) – and I’m ready to make this Wine and Dine my bee-yatch!  Especially in the company of Kellie and Nicole, who I know will be looking out for my every running need.  You know, like singing the harmonies to Let it Go, seeing who we can make pee their pants first from laughing too hard, and utilizing the ever-popular Cupcake On A Fishing Pole trick to pick up the pace just a wee bit.  Because we ALL need BRF’s like THAT!

This is what came up when I Googled fishing pole cupcakes. For realz.

This is what came up when I Googled fishing pole cupcakes. For realz. Get on it Princess Lisa!

I guess maybe KNOW the thought of not running never entered my mind.  And NOT running the W&D just AIN’T GONNA HAPPEN.  Even if we end up keeping the Balloon Ladies company for the entire trip, that’d be A-Okey-Dokey by me.  It just means we’d be wicked late to the party, but I honestly don’t think it will come down to that.  Even if Nicole’s NYC Marathon-spent legs can barely move, I think we’ll still finish in PLENTY of time to enjoy the festivities.  Let’s be honest shall we?  Who actually runs this race for any reason OTHER than the after-party???

Nope. No fun. Clearly.

Nope. No fun. Clearly.

So we shall see what The MAN has to say later today.  I don’t THINK he’s going to say not to run next weekend, but even if he does, you can pretty much bank on me completely ignoring THAT particular little bit of medical advice.  Now, AFTER next weekend may be a different story.  I just have to keep in mind – as will The MAN – that I have another half coming up, but not until February.  So what he thinks I should do between November 9th and February 15th, will more than likely be a whole different story.  I just may actually listen to him.  After all – he is The MAN.  And if The MAN can get professional multi-million dollar athletes back to making their multi millions of dollars, than I’m pretty confident he can get little ol’ Black Dog back on the road again.  Only difference is, I have to actually pay TO run.  Hmmmmm, I may have to rethink this whole race entry fee thing.  Seriously, when’s the last time these guys paid to race?

Gotta love sponsors!

Gotta love sponsors!

Enjoy the ride.

Ever had to choice between your health and paying for it yourself?  Does that not drive you COMPLETELY insane?  If Disney race entry fees weren’t so crazy, would you enter more of them?

So Proud To Be A Runner. And Proud Of You!

Nothing makes me more happy and proud than when I read about my fellow Disney runners accomplishments.  Like JENN, who just ran her VERY FIRST MARATHON this weekend!  The MARINE CORPS MARATHON!  Yeah, THAT Marine Corps Marathon!!

Jenn

Celebratory cupcakes for all!!

And STEPH, who cranked out – or maybe more appropriately “gimped” out – her second marathon in the past two weeks.  Yes, that’s right, TWO WEEKS!  At the MARINE CORPS MARATHON!

Steph

Are you getting the whole runner/cupcake thing yet??

And then there’s my sister Accountabilibuddy KELLIE, who not only finished a 5k/Half Marathon Challenge, but ran another three miles AFTER finishing to get her Goofy training miles in.  ROCKSTAR!

I'm bad and I know it!!

I OWN this race!!

Over the past couple of years, I’ve lost track of the number of smiles that have crossed my face, and the happy tears I’ve cried, as I’ve watched/read/tracked runners from all over the world complete an unbelievable accomplishment.  From Meb’s amazing victory in Boston and reclaiming both the city – and the race – back from the cowardly acts of a couple of misguided idiots, to a girl on crutches crossing the finishing line at Sunday’s MCM, it all hits me right in the heart.  I know it’s something many people don’t understand, especially those who don’t run.  But for those of us who do, and know first hand about the aches, pains, mental games we play with ourselves just to get through the miles, the good luck charms we carry with us, or even maybe just a prayer that is whispered before a race start, it all makes total sense.  It may not be about a victory, and age group award, or even a little trophy.  It’s about more than that.  SO much more than that.

bigger pic

It’s about the ability to push our body to its limit.  It’s about friendships, old and new.  It’s about that indescribable feeling you get when you hit that pace you’ve been shooting for for weeks/months/YEARS even.  It’s about finally fitting into those skinny jeans that were hiding in the back of the closet.  It’s about looking at yourself in the mirror and being proud of the person looking back at you.  Mostly – I think anyway – it’s about the feeling of accomplishment.

accomplishment

Whether it was taking that first step out the door, throwing that bag of potato chips in the trash, or finishing your first triathlon, there’s not a damn thing wrong in being proud of yourself.  Go ahead, brag a little.  Or a lot!  Whatever it is that you accomplished, be proud of it!  Because I can guarantee you, there’s someone else out there who’s proud of you too.  And if you can’t think of anyone, I’ll be proud for you. Because that’s what runners do.  That is WHO WE ARE.

Whoo hoo!!

Nice job!

 

Enjoy the ride.

What’s the one thing you’ve ever done that made you proud?  Do you ever get weepy when you see what happens at a finish line?  What’s the most memorable athletic moment you’ve ever been a part of or seen?