Sorry it’s been a stretch since my last post. I got off to a great start on this blog
thing, then I blinked and it’s two weeks later.
I’ll try to get better about my updates on this journey to Grandma’s
marathon. Eight weeks to go… good grief,
I’m starting to hyperventilate again!
(Just kidding… kinda…)
Rest assured, my training continues on course. If nothing else, it is a humbling
experience. I’m a part of the marathon
training clinic at the Running Room in Burnsville and continue to attend our
weekly clinics. Nevermind that I’m one
of the oldest folks in the group. They
are all wonderful people and super encouraging.
They let me take this training on my own terms, especially as I take our leader’s
advice to heart – “listen to your body.”
Sometimes my body is screaming bloody murder, but it’s only because it
is wondering what the heck it’s doing, running up and down a hill 6 times in a
row! Yes, I’m even doing hill
training. Did I mention this is a humbling
process? I’ll write more about the hills
later. I want to explore this idea of
humility a bit more for the moment.
Two weeks ago, my long run was 14.5 miles. I started out that Saturday morning at 6:20
am, running to the Running Room in Burnsville to join the Saturday morning
group for part of this run. I stayed
with the group for 5 miles, then went off on my own to finish up the rest of
the miles. It was a beautiful, cool
morning and I felt pretty good. I did
miscalculate the distance though, and stopped running at 15 miles, which was
still 1.5 miles from home. I figured I’d
just walk the rest of the way, a nice treat after such a good run. But clouds rolled in and it started to
rain. I was getting chilled so decided
to just finish the distance by running home.
So technically, a 16+ mile run. It was longer than I was supposed to run, but
I still felt good that day, and the next, so no harm done. And truth be told, it was quite a confidence
boost. Nice!
The following week, kept with the program and had a good
week. I planned my next long run – 16 miles
– for Saturday. Given how it went the
week before, I was feeling good. I knew
I could go the distance, based on the prior week’s run. But there were a couple factors that I knew
would be challenging. I had a work
commitment at St. Kate’s on this Saturday, so I brought my running gear with me
to run after my presentation. This meant
that I didn’t get started running until about 11:45 am. And instead of cool temps, the thermometer
read 72 degrees when I started. By the
time I finished my 16 mile run that day, the temperature was in the mid-upper
80s, way too hot for this chick.
Needless to say, the run was awful.
By the time I hit 14 miles, I was breaking up the run into half mile
segments… run a half mile, walk a minute, run a half mile, walk a minute… my
legs felt like lead, my body was exhausted and worse yet, in my mind I felt
totally defeated. My only thought,
besides hoping I made it back to the car, was “what the heck was I thinking,
signing up for a marathon???”
Definitely a humbling experience.
It took me a couple days to get my head back in the game,
although I was still pretty leery when I got back to running on Monday. It didn’t feel great and I ended up not going
as far as I had planned. Tuesday was the same… ugh. I’m
happy to say that by Wednesday, I felt better and got back out for a decent jaunt. During that run, I started thinking about what
a humbling experience this journey to the marathon has been so far. And as I thought about that, was reminded of
another journey where humility was a theme:
when we were working with hospice to care for my mom in her final
weeks. One of the lessons I learned from
my mom during that time was that there is great strength in humility.
My mom was a very strong woman. I remember when the doctor at Mayo met with
my mom, my sister and I after the results of her tests came back and confirmed she
did indeed have pancreatic cancer. We
asked how long mom had left and the doctor said, as doctors do, that it was
hard to know. But, he said, people with
this sort of cancer normally have a few months, maybe six to nine. My mom, without missing a beat, said “I guess
I have some cleaning to do.” No time to
cry… we had cleaning to do. And we did. We got started cleaning her house the
following Saturday.
Mom did opt to try an experimental treatment for pancreatic
cancer that seemed to have some positive results for patients, extending their lives
by months, time they would not have normally had without the treatment. When her results were not as positive and the
negative side effects further compromised her health and adversely affected her
quality of life, mom decided it was time to stop treatment and sign on with
hospice. She died just about 7 weeks later.
As you can imagine, her health faded pretty quickly. The hospice nurses were great, helping us
learn how to care for mom during this time.
Administering medications, tracking changes in her response to the
medications, giving her shots multiple times a day to replace the insulin her withering
pancreas was unable to produce, administering blood thinners to treat the blood
clots she had developed as a result of the treatment, monitoring and managing
her pain with powerful medications that had equally as powerful side effects. As we fumbled through our learning curve, mom
was always so grateful for the care we provided, as awkward as it was at times.
As she became weaker and she needed
more assistance with bathing and taking care of bodily functions, she showed
great strength by accepting our help with grace and gratitude. Not
once did I ever see her wince when we gave her a shot, or grumble or lash out
or cry as she saw her health fade rapidly before her. She
always said thank you for everything we did.
It was during those times when I realized that there is great strength
in humility. As she humbly accepted the
process, her failing health and the fact that she needed to rely upon our
assistance and care, she did so with great strength. I
will never forget it.
Paula
p.s. Because I am running as a fundraiser for the National Hospice Foundation and two local hospice programs - the Regional Hospice Program in Hayward and the Deaf Hospice Program, I told some people that I would put the link to my fundraising page at the end of each post so it would be easy to find. Here you go: http://www.active.com/donate/runtoremember2012/runpaularun
Paula,
ReplyDeleteI am inspired, humbled, and grateful for the opportunity to join you vicariously on this journey. After having cared for my husband`s aging parent until releasing him into the Father's hands and then suddenly two years ago losing my own father-65 yrs. old, baby sister-35 yrs old, and Grandmother-93 yrs old, (3 generations), all within 8 months, I realized that the most important thing isn`t things at all. It`s the snort in the laughter that I remember of my baby sister, the hug that was so tight from my Grandmother that I thought would nearly kill me (as did all my cousins :o), or the very quiet and gentle way my father would whisper to me on the lake, instructing me how to put the cricket on my fishing line so as to not scare the fish away and then wink at me when I got it----these are the treasures that I deem so valuable. It was not a brawny strength that drew my heart to love them, but the simplicity of who they were and I am deeply humbled that God would share them with me---whether it was a long or short journey together on this side of heaven. LOVE, that is truly what was in the snort, the hug, and the whisper. Thank you for sharing your journey, your mom, and your heart with us. I view my life as if it were one big crazy patchwork quilt with God`s hand to the needle and as He sews each patch (life) into my quilt, there may be some pain from the stick, but at the end of it all, I will have this beautiful crazy quilt (life) that God will wrap me up with and all I will feel is the warmth of love from all those who participated as a patch in creating my quilt. Thank you for your patch in my quilt :o) Know that I will be praying for you on this venture you are taking on!! Love and Hugs!!!
Pam, Thank you for your beautiful post. So true... and so eloquently stated. I'm honored to be a part of your quilt, and you mine. Thank you for sharing this with me, and for your support! Love and hugs back to you, dear friend!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThe optimal temperature to run a marathon is 40f. The pace difference
ReplyDeletebetween 40F and 80F is about 20% per mile!
Last summer there was a day when the news was warning about doing
outside activities because of insane heat/humidity. I had a fancy new
hydration pack that I wanted to test so I threw caution to the wind. I
was training by heart rate and my body couldn't cool down. I could
only stay in my heart range by walking. I punted because I wasn't
getting any training benefit from the conditions.
IMHO if you can run 16 miles, you can complete the marathon TODAY!
(Many training plans have a max long runs of 16 miles). Getting to 18
or 20 is for psychological value. Your glass is way past 50% full! ;)
Alan
PS: haven't figured out how to edit a comment... thus delete/reenter :(
Alan - Thanks so much for sharing this with me. My favorite temps for running fall between 30 - 40 degrees. Perfect! You offer such a good reminder about the heat. And thanks for your words of encouragement! That psychological piece is no small matter! Your boost of confidence in me is appreciated! :-)
Delete