See Adrienne Run: Previously on the Adrienne Channel

What's All This Then?

Greetings!

This blog has run its course, as it were. Actually three courses, but don't let that stop you from reading. Here's the skinny: I dedicated most of 2008 to running and fundraising for cancer research. On June 1, I ran the San Diego Rock n' Rock marathon. On June 21 I ran a half marathon in Anchorage, Alaska. Both of these feats were tackled with the coaching and support of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, for which I raised $5,725. The final challenge was the New York City marathon on Nov. 2. This time I trained with "Fred's team" on behalf of Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center where I was treated successfully for Hodgkins lymphoma five years ago. I raised another $3240 (maybe more).

It was a banner year in many ways. I celebrated 5 years of health. I raised a lot of money. I earned a Team in Training triple crown for completing a triathlon, century bike ride and marathon. I was featured on a show about three first time runners in the NYC marathon, aired on NBC in New York. And ....

You can read all about my journey in sneakers below. And remember:
"A journey of 26.2 miles begins with a single shlep."

(For the back story, check out the Sept. 29th entry.)

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Previously on the Adrienne Channel

I wrote the following on Wednesday night after a group session called "Can't get enough hills" on the training schedule:

I got really psyched out tonight and my workout suffered mightily. It became clear early on that I would be fighting an uphill battle long before we got to the hill at 102nd. It was quite warm for 7 o’clock on April 23rd, and my legs were heavy before we even started. Is it any wonder I dread evening runs? I needed to get my head together fast.

A quickly found myself heading down the path to Nowheresville. A gal was telling me that she doesn't want to wear shorts because she didn't like the way her legs look. Yeah, well. I didn't state the obvious. I had visions of that scene in "Life of Brian" where Michael Palin is chained to a wall in a dungeon, hanging in the air listening to Brian complain of being treated harshly. Brian whines that the guards spit in his eye! Palin says how much he would love to be spit in the eye. Brian's a lucky devil. He doesn't know how good he has it.

It's all how you see it. I didn't bother with "Yeah, I know what you mean" even if I'm not particularly thrilled with the way my legs look either because that's not really my bottom line. I resent the physical discomfort and I resent having to plan my day around it. I don't want to have to think about it. I would love to wake up one day and not have to consider the size, shape and feel of my legs. In some ways, fantasizing about something that can't happen is worse than reconciling myself to the fact that I'll wake up tomorrow, as I did today, with the body I've got. The good news is that we're both doing what we need to do to prepare for a marathon. She'll find her way through her issue and I'll find mine.

She didn't say anything wrong or unusual. I heard more than she said, and it got stuck in my head. I learned a lesson about focus tonight the hard way. I don’t always have strong defenses against the things people say. I guess that’s why I often prefer to be on my own. It’s safer. What I need to learn is how to re-establish that focus if and when I get thrown off. I can throw myself off, too. I don't need anyone's help getting off course.

This week had a pall of blueness brought on by the early, and unwelcome, emergence of summer. I am not ready for it. I'm not ready to confront the discomfort and anger. I'd be happier if I didn't have to think about how I'll feel by noon, or dinner or the end of the day. I can live with not "looking good in shorts." I'd just be thrilled if I could find a pair of shoes to wear with them.

Note to self: Contact the Lymphatic Research Foundation about an event.