It's funny how after doing something right can actually make you feel good. After one session of physical therapy I was actually able to get in a 30-min easy session on the bike trainer Tuesday night and a 30-min run at an easy pace on the treadmill yesterday morning along with a few minutes on the stair climber doing some foot exercises with only minimal pain in my wood. The rest of my body, however, has decided that I am not suffering enough.

For the past three days now I have been waking up completely covered in hives. This would cause most people to sprint to their nearest urgent care, but considering this is my body, I have gone through it all before. Years of on and off unidentified health problems and a family history riddled with autoimmune issues have made this pretty normal for me. Hell, when I was about nine I was put on high doses of allergy meds and an occasional steroid for chronic hives and a  few years ago the doctors thought I had shingles. The allergist, immunologist, and infectious disease physicians were all unable to identify the cause and just chocked it up to stress. Yup. When they have no idea what is happening to you that means it is pretty much your own fault and you need to learn to chill out... Does that mean I can blame them for the fact that I like bourbon?



Anyway, since that first session I have been feeling some progress in the foot area. I was planning to wake up this morning and get a nice swim session in, but I though it would be a bad idea to submerge myself into chlorine with dry and itchy skin, so I actually slept in - which is still probably waking almost two hours earlier than most people.

In other events, since we are officially in the holiday season, that means I have about another hundred things going on - because, you know, we are literally that family..you know the one who is always involved in something, whether it be school related, community related..you get the point. Do you remember that show Desperate Housewives? Well I am the one who is like the Bree Van De Kamp of the bunch - that one who shows up with baskets full of muffins and has the Martha Stewart-ish ambition when it comes to things. I'm just not that much of a b*tch...I also don't wear dresses...or want to kill people. 😄😄😄.

Every year for the past three or four years our family has been doing something for those homeless in the city. It is usually a hot dinner at Thanksgiving, turning our little house kitchen into a full on assembly line of turkey and stuffing or, like last year, a random weekend full of sandwiches, sodas, and toiletry bags full of soaps, lotion, sanitizing wipes, and toothbrushes. One year we even conducted a clothing drive for men's work clothes to bring to a local church who helps people find jobs. Well, out of everything we did it seems that the toiletry bags were the biggest hit with people. Thanks to our amazing friends, we have been making bags stocked full of even more necessities. Last night I finished adding some of the last items to the bags to get them ready for distribution. Once they are all done, we will usually hit a deli or the local Walmart and pick up dozens of packages of lunch meats, cheeses, snacks, and even things like gloves and hats. Then, my husband and one of our friends take the day and drive all over the city looking for people on the corners, subways, shelters,and anywhere else.

It has been far too long since I sat down and really wrote about anything. Since my last blog post there has been so much that has happened, both good and bad. I am hoping that by sitting here and typing this all out I can get a different perspective on the course of events that were 2018 later on in the future. I had a pretty full spring season of running, both short and long. Completed some awesome half marathons and my first full marathon as well as some nice rides. I smashed a 5K goal and actually placed in the top three of a 5K the day before my first marathon. I actually was able to place in most of the short races I did during the year in my age group - something I am completely astonished with. I remained pretty much on top of the world until July when I took part in my first triathlon. I had been working all year trying to build stamina and correct form in my swimming. Having never learned to swim as a child this was probably the most intimidating thing I have ever done before...and rightfully so.


After that, I went through a few weeks lacking motivation. My ego was bruised and I felt that the entire year was for naught. I had one more opportunity to complete my triathlon goal and that was a month later. It was around this time that my body began feeling off. I chucked it up to fatigue. I was really pushing myself in a completely different way this year and probably did a little too much. I wasn't really eating that well and was pretty much just eating as much as I could of whatever was easy and around to replenish calories burned riding, running, and swimming.

My final opportunity for the year to complete a triathlon came at Tri the Wildwoods. I invested in a decent wetsuit for this one - mainly as a confidence booster. I practiced treading water and tried to simulate what I called a "panic drill" in the pool, which is nearly impossible since out gym's pool is only 5.5" deep at best. What I found did help was swimming in the one open lane during the early morning hardcore swim fitness class. When 20 people are jumping up and down in the pool at once smashing pool noodles everywhere you can actually get some decent waves. :D In addition, the event was taking place on my "home beach;" the beach and town where I spent every childhood vacation, learned to surf (ok tried to learn to surf), and a place I know almost inside and out. The day of the event was crazy: we almost didn't make it there on time and I found myself entering the crowd with the swim start that was actually slower than my anticipated goal. That didn't bother me too much since I had no idea what I was getting into...again. Strangely, this chaos ended up fueling me more. I smashed through the high tide end ended up at the first buoy quicker than I though I would. There were a lot of people in distress in front of me, so I found myself treading water for a few minutes while the lifeguards helped get them aligned and breathing right again. I wasn't about to do to someone what was done to me a month earlier. Seeing me just floating there one of the guards asked if I was ok, and I actually was this time. Before I knew it I was in shallow water again and ran onto the beach...pretty much crying, this time from being so happy. Running up the shore I screamed to my husband, son, and friends who came down for the day waving my fist in the air. I was finally victorious. Not a major goal for most people, but those moments of happiness mended my bruised ego. If only it mended my health.


I didn't have a whole lot planned for the fall and winter, maybe four or five things, but they all pretty much went down the drain at the end of September. That feeling that began in July, that fatigue, began evolving. I was feeling more and more run down, body full of inflammation; headaches began and still remain 'till this day. For days at a time I would never feel rested. My body would ache even when I did nothing. In addition to that, the Morton's Neuroma in my feet started to get worse and worse. After the end of September, I was pretty much off of my feet. A combination of foot pain (that turned into calf pain, that turned into hamstring pain, that turned into glute pain...) with this lingering all out fatigue kept me from even going to the gym most days. In addition, stress levels began creeping up more and more. Due to my son's new school schedule I had to leave for work almost two hours before I normally would, meaning that if I wanted to even hit the gym in the morning I would have to do so when they opened at 4:40am and try to no fall asleep and drown in the pool and fall flat on my face on the treadmill. It also meant that I could no longer cycle to and from work and I normally would and my normal 2-a-days were gone. We're still not sure exactly what is going on with my body, but I was finally able to get in to see a new podiatrist and schedule some physical therapy for my foot and leg issues. In the mean time, can't help to feel saddened that I wasn't able to finish the things I had wanted to, including my first trail ultra run, but I have to just be hopeful that things will resolve themselves and I can come out on top of it all.

This past weekend I completed my first marathon.

Truthfully, I was nowhere near ready to be on that starting line, but it didn't stop me from finishing. After completing the Love Run here in Philly, my body was just off. I wasn't eating right, I wasn't sleeping right, and I sure as hell wasn't training right. Then, one week before we headed down the shore for marathon weekend I had a terrible bike crash after my wheel got stuck in the unused trolley tracks. I flew head first over my handlebars, landed on my head, face, right shoulder, right hand, and both knees. I was able to make it home, but had serious knee swelling for days, shoulder pain (couldn't put on my backpack without wincing), and some gnarly deep burns on my hand and knees. I couldn't swim due to the open wounds, couldn't ride much thanks to the swollen knee, and couldn't do any weight training thanks to the shoulder. Somehow, I mustered up enough grit to get a 15 mile run in the week before, but not much else.

As far as my long runs go, preparing for a marathon in the winter was not easy for me. My long runs were cut to no more than three hours tops and those three hour spurts included me getting in the car and heading to the gym to use the treadmill and get home in time for my husband to go to work. My one outdoor run on Easter Sunday was a disaster ending in ten agonizing miles. I had made a bad decision after visiting the podiatrist for some nagging foot issues to grab a new brand of shoes with more arch support (at his recommendation) and it ended up being an utter disaster. Going from my beloved Newtons at a 3mm drop to a pair of Nikes with what ended up being a 12mm drop proved to add insult to injury. I ended up heading into the race with barely completing a long run of 15 miles. Needless to say that after I hit those 15 on Sunday, the wall was hard.

We headed down to Avalon, NJ Friday afternoon and set up our cabin at the campground for the weekend. I had, the previous week, entered into the Cape May Earth Day 5k to take place on Saturday morning and wanted to get some rest before the long weekend. I had done the run a few years prior and really enjoyed the course. There is a cute little fair, a nice playground for kids, and the zoo is wonderful.  Although they changed the course, I, to my surprise, placed third in the female overall field. This was my first top three overall ever. I had gone out hard on the course hoping to just have a PB (a sub 25 minute run). It was a chilly morning and at about 1.8 miles in I started having a little bit of an asthma attack and walked about 20 feet (never should have done that!), but still ended up making a PB with a time of 24:16 (clock time 24:20) for the 5K. The entire time I was chasing another girl who I thought was the third woman, but, in fact was only the second. I ended up taking home the 3rd place female finisher and the 2nd place female my age group. It was definitely the morale boost I needed walking up to the start line the next morning in the Ocean Drive Marathon.



Because I had never competed in such an event, the entire idea of nutrition and carb-loading and all of the other stuff was still over my head. I gorged myself on gnocchi the night before (probably not enough calories I needed though) and stuck with my favorite pre-event breakfast of two multigrain waffles with cashew and hazelnut butter, banana, and a drop of maple syrup. I had all of my race nutrition ready before heading away for the weekend, but that all went out the door...or should I say out of my pocket...once the race started.

The first ten miles of the event were glorious. I was on pace, on point with my nutrition, but there was one thing I always end up forgetting about runs at the shore: the sun. Running at 9am in 40 degree weather here in Philly means to wear layers, a hat, gloves, and maybe sunglasses. Starting at 40 degree weather at the shore means that you will be stripping down to your tank by mile 8 and burning up by the 13 mile mark, which is exactly what I did. Shore sun at 60 degrees can feel just as hot as the sun in the peak of summer.

Three miles into the run the arm warmers cam off and tossed at an aid station. Mile 13 the tech shirt came off, and it wasn't until mile 15 that I realized that the sunblock I haphazardly applied never made its way to my shoulders, or arms, or legs, or many other places. In addition to the heat and sun, somewhere at the turnaround point at mile 13 I lost my gel bottle from my holder in addition to all of my electrolyte tabs for my drink and back up shot blocks. I was toast. With a super sensitive stomach, I cannot do Gatorade. In fact, the last time I drank Gatorade during a run was during the Rock and Roll Half Marathon two years prior where a good bit of it came right back up. I just cannot tolerate the sugars in Gatorade or G2, but, after loosing all of my SIS products (and having no one yell up to me that things were falling out of my bag -- something we all know trail runners would do *wink *wink), I was at the mercy of the orange stuff for the rest of the miles on. I felt my hands swelling with dehydration and knew I would have to gut (get it?) it out. By mile 15 my pace was dropping and by mile 19 I felt so terrible that my pace dropped below a 12 minute mile, something I had never done before. I had hit the wall and hit it hard. Never getting to fit in a training run past 15 miles really affected me, and although I was nowhere near ready to finish this marathon, I did not quit. The tiredness and stomach pains (with the regurgitating of Gatorade) did not keep me from enjoying the beautiful scenery of the shore, the salty smell of the air, and the fact that I was actually going to be able to slap that 26.2 mile sticker on the back of my car!


My goal was under 5 hours and when we reached the flat stretch in Sea Isle with the finish line in sight, I said "fuck it" and just ran that last mile as fast as I could. Fifty feet from the finish line by husband and son were waiting for me and my little boy ran all the way down the chute to the finish line.

It was not the prettiest race I have ever done, but those 4 hours and 48 minutes were all heart and drive. I am so glad that I did it.

Next up: Broad Street Run!

Two Septembers ago my husband entered me into my first half marathon. A egregious decisions at the time, I though. I had only a handful of races under my belt at the time and had only recently completed my first 10k run. Doubling ones distance over the course of a summer is usually an easy task, but with the amount of time I had to train and very limited availability for a weekly long run, I ended up walking up to the race (The Rock and Roll Philly Half) with a max distance of 10 miles completed.

The course was hot. I understood barely anything about race nutrition, and ended up running the event with a water bladder full of Gatorade, throwing some up once I hit that 10 mile mark. I finished in about 2:17-ish if I remember correctly, but was aiming for a 2:10 mark.

My first half marathon medal! I was so proud at the time...proud and sore!
Now, flash forward to last year. Last year I began to wade into the waters of trail running. I had always been more of a hiker before and admit poking fun of those in the niche sport who wandered into the woods with zero water or sustenance for almost an entire day, but after a 15K in the mud and rain in Reading, PA, I was kinda hooked. I secretly watched (and still do) ultra running films at my desk at work and have been dreaming of my first trail ultra since that day. Not ready to push that far yet, I entered into the Charlie Horse Trail Half Marathon in Mohoton, PA last spring. It was a rocky, muddy, hot course up and down into Birdsboro and through a makeshift obstacle course before leading to the finish line stocked with burgers and beer. The average time to complete the half is around 2.5 hours from what I read and I watched a few pull off to the road and call it quits after falling on those lovely Pennsylvania rocks over...and over...and over.

Somehow, again I pulled off third in my age group. All I kept thinking was at least there were people who did worse off that I did. 😄😄😄

Four months later I threw myself a curve ball for my next half marathon in Ocean City, NJ and completed the MS 100 ride the afternoon before, which is a hundred mile ride from outside of Cherry Hill, NJ, around a bunch of town homes, farms, and highways and ending at the shore. It was a pretty hot weekend so I spent the evening hydrating, got a few hours of sleep, and set off to try to complete my first sub-2 half marathon. As the morning started and the sun beamed down, I knew it was going to be hard. After keeping on pace for my first hour, the burn out set in, and, despite the dozens of volunteers handing out ice water and towels at the 7 mile mark, dehydration and severely blistering feet resulting from shoe issues (always shoe issues when you are a size 5 and 90% of companies do not make shoes that small in a wide size available at any store), I missed my goal by six minutes.


before the ms 100 ride followed by farmer's tan sunburn and  absolute exhaustion 9am the following morning
Since going through races for my 2018 calendar I have been determined to break that two hour mark. For a lot of people that is a super easy task, and for some it's not. I'm not a naturally talented runner. Throughout life I have been lucky to be naturally talented at a lot of things and can do many things without much though or effort - not running. My asthma kicks me in the ass at some point every run. My face turns beet red for whatever reason after about 20 minutes and I have had more injuries that I care to count any more - mainly in my feet, and most of which will probably never go away. It's probably for these reasons that I enjoy doing it so much - because it's hard and it sucks. I have to work twice as hard to shave even a minute off of a PR and it could take me a year to do it.


This past weekend was the Philadelphia Love Run. I was determined, especially after having a crappy 20k trail run the previous weekend, to make that mark.

Early Sunday morning, again in the sub-freezing weather, I hopped on the Broad Street Line to the Parkway here in my hometown of Philadelphia and again set off to break that mark. I was cold and battling some sort of stomach bug (all three of us ended up with it within 2 days at home), but otherwise felt good. This was my first time doing the Love Run, although a few years back it was supposed to be my first half marathon. My two favorite cousins had come up from Carolina to run the event, but I was midway through physical therapy after for not one, but two injuries I got hit with. I did, however, make it up to the even to cheer them on and ended up running alongside my cousins in a separate lane for part of the event cheering them on and taking photos. I think I ended up clocking ten miles that day on my pedometer anyways. When the registration opened for this year, I knew I wanted to do the race.

Despite the temperature, I was making good pace, kept at my nutrition and hydration plan (I usually carry my own water even though they have aid stations - I have no desire to stop and wait) with my SIS products, and my lungs felt pretty clear. At the five mile mark I saw that I had made it sub-45 minutes and a big smile came across my face, but it soon faded as we approached the two hilly sections of the run. Now you don't think of Philadelphia as having hills, but, in fact, there are quite a few after you trek just northwest of the main part of the city. After slowing my pace reaching the top, I knew I needed to kick myself back into gear if I wanted to have enough time to get back down the parkway and finish in a sub-2 time. After some twists and turns, the 3 mile straight shot to the finish line came into view. I have run this strip a dozen times before and seeing that I had less than 30 minutes left to make my goal I pushed to the end.


As I turned the corner to the finish line at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, I had less than a minute to go. I was cold and feeling tired, but I crossed the line in 1:59:25. I had done it.

As I shuffled towards the subway cold and wet from sweating through too many layers all I kept thinking was, "How on earth am I going to do this distance x2 in less than a month?" - meaning, that I need to kick my ass into gear for my first marathon this coming April. Anxious and incredibly nervous to the point where I'm not sure yet if I am excited, I worry about being able to finish through the ongoing foot pain I have been suffering through from multiple injuries, about having the strength to muster through the miles, and about maintaining focus and adequate nutrition to keep my energy up to get through the event in a respectable time.

We will see.

This weekend I kicked off my running season with a 20K trail race in Bucks County, PA. I had originally anticipated the Philadelphia Love Run to be my first event of the year, but found an inexpensive trail race just under the half marathon mark in a park we love to visit in the warmer weather for the trails and fantastic playground area Eamon enjoys.

When we arrived for check in it was a balmy 27 degrees with some wind and still enough snow and ice on the grassy areas to sink your feet into. Anticipating warmer weather, I had planned on wearing shorts and a long sleeved wicking top, but luckily I am an over packer for everything and had some warmer tights and my rain jacket. Brrr. They boys actually ended up waiting in the car the entire time from check in until the near end - who could blame them. Icy ground and sub freezing temps are not something you can really have fun in.


The race was both a 10K and a 20K Double Run and took place mainly on the horse trails at the park. I was only familiar with the paved trails and one section of wooded trails prior to this day, so running in the grassy horse trails was a new challenge for me. The ice covered divots in the ground were grabbing at my footing so, tiptoeing around, I made sure to be extra careful since I already have a foot injury I am nursing and I was not about to mess myself up further while preparing for my marathon next month.

Miles 3 and 4 crossed a snow covered field with a nice view. The ground crunched under my feet with every step, and I tried my best to scuttle across while still maintaining a decent time. I originally wanted to complete the race in under 2 hours, but that was not happening with the conditions. There was only one or two actual hills, about a mile on the road, but the terrain was slick with more holes than Philadelphia's streets.

As I was forcing myself to pull my pace under ten minute miles in the snow and mud a mother an her little girl were ahead of me doing their 10K run. I would not push past them (even though another girl so rudely did without announcing herself). They were adorable in their every step and it was nice sharing the track with them. The mother asked her daughter about halfway through their run if she was having fun. "Remember, there's no point in running if you are not having fun," she reminded the little girl. It was a nice reminder of why I like running the trails. They are hard. They are miserable at times. But the sights are beautiful. The trees, the wildlife, the sunrise starts. You don't get that with neighborhood runs. And at the turnaround for the double, I got to give that smiling little girl a high five because she was awesome.

During the run I felt great. When I am on the dreadmill I get tuckered around 10 miles, but that might just be because I am bored. I had recently changed my fueling strategy after the Hammer gels I had been using the past year suddenly starting giving me terrible pains in my stomach and I was worried about taking something new into the first run of the year. I tried so many different brands and different powders for fuel, but nothing helped me in longer runs. It is so weird how your body can change, but I knew that I needed to hurry up and find something that works or I would never be able to be ready for my first marathon this April.

My USAT membership had given me a coupon to try SIS gels at a discount, so I gave it a go. Now, it seems that they are the only thing I can use without feeling sick. They are isotonic gels, so the density of the gel itself is much different that brands like GU or Hammer. They are more liquid in consistency and do not require consumption of water in order to properly digest, so I can alternate sipping on water or electrolyte drink and taking a sip of my gels from my flask every 20 minutes or so. They are lower in calorie and lower in carb per gel than others, so I always carry an extra with me on runs or rides going over 2 hours. I packed two of the caffeine gels in my flask to sip on and stashed an electrolyte gel in my vest with my water in case I needed more, which I did because, in Karla fashion, I ended up missing a turn in the final miles of the race on a road section and having to backtrack to where I was supposed to go. In the first loop there was someone pointing at the intersection since there were no trees to hang the green ribbon to mark the trail, and I didn't see anyone there the second time around, so, I, and a few other people, instinctively went straight because there were runners on the road - they were not part of the race apparently :)


I was actually kind of mad that I lost ten minutes and added a mile to my run, but it made it a true half marathon and I still ended up placing third in my age group. I'll take it.

There were lots of pancakes and sausages at the end of the event left over for the double runners, along with awesome pom pom hats, t-shirts, pint glasses, plastic cups, and other fun stuff. You definitely got your race fee worth of swag and the on site crew froze their bums off waiting for everyone to get done, hydrate, and fill them with carbs.


I was so ready to leave after my pancakes: not because it was not a fun ride, but the weather just wanted me to curl up in clean clothes. We made it a family fun day, went to see Black Panther in the theater, ate a lot of popcorn, and went a got a toy for the little man who put up with the wait while I ran!

Hoping next year's run will be a little warmer. <3

4AM.

Well...more like 4:15. By the time I shake the cobwebs out of my head thanks to that restlessly sleeping 6-year old who needs lots of cuddles waking me every other hour, that 15-minutes snooze sometimes feels better than 6 hours straight.

Coffee. Then feed the cats. Those needy bastards have been banging their heads on the door for an hour already. "Feed me, mom." "Nigel drank all of the water again."

Slam down a waffle with some cashew butter and chia, fill the water bottles, then drag myself down to the basement and slug out the next 1.5 - 2 hrs on the bike trainer that changes resistance on its own now that it is twelve years old and has been slammed around a few times since buying it on clearance for a hundred bucks at Breakway Bikes back when I bought my first road bike.

Working on three sports can feel damn near impossible. I drink my coffee and eat my waffle while warming up my legs, check emails and Facebook alerts and find my Spotify playlist as I pick up my cadence. Or will it be a YouTube morning? I need something motivating.

Being a working mom (or parent in general) can be demanding, but there is also that overwhelming guilt if you are not present for every moment that your child is home from school or daycare. In addition, there are non-stop chores, laundry, breakfasts, lunches, and dinners and all of the other responsibilities that come with day to day life. How is one supposed to fit in the endless hours of training involved in preparing for multi-sport events?

4AM.

Once the legs are done moving there may be a few minutes to stretch, even shower. Get the boys ready for work and school, breakfasts out, maybe pack a lunch for hubs and I, otherwise it will be a visit to Saladworks at lunch time. Then off to the gym.

Part II.

Swim or Run...or maybe a weight day. Five to six days a week, it's one or the other. Doing my best to keep this tired and wearing body as healthy as I can. With five or six nagging injuries and/or disorders I have been fighting over the years, I need all the help I can get.

From gym I head to work for my regular 9 - 5 in a law office, where every day can vary. Some days it is a lot of standing, some I will be at the desk all day (which only adds to my already imbalanced core), some days I will be tired by 2 and others I will be bright eyed when I leave at 5. When I leave, though, it doesn't matter how tired I am. I have to head home and begin my responsibilities as a wife and parent. My husband works all day and we have a small family contracting business to run at night, so quick dinners are sometimes necessary. In addition to my job, I (try) to have a small craft business on Etsy and my son loves to make YouTube videos every once in a while, so adding that into my evenings means that I pretty much never sit down.

By 9pm I am beyond spent, so once my son goes to sleep, we are all pretty much asleep in minutes.

Until tomorrow.

4AM.

They say the most productive people are those who rise before dawn and st out on their tasks before most people get up. I cannot function any other way. On days I sleep past even six, my body hates me and my mind beats itself up. If you had gotten up you wouldn't feel like crap; those toys would have been picked up, dishes done, and breakfast made it says. I feel lazy, unmotivated, and, mostly, unaccomplished. That is the worst feeling. Feeling like I have gotten nothing done, nothing checked off on that list. Feeling like I am just dragging through the day, not really focused on anything, wanting to just go back to sleep, praying for a do-over. My endorphins are all off and my hormones probably even worse. It's like my body requires that release and my brain requires that focus I get after a few miles. the peace it brings, and the satisfaction of knowing that my body is strong. It might not be the prettiest, but it can ride over a hundred miles in 90-degree heat and can run through rocks and tree limbs all morning. It can do things I never though it would be able to do, and I know it can do more.

Thanks to those 4AMs.

Running sucks.

Your body hurts. You're always thirsty. Pretty much always hungry. And finding a bathroom isn't always an option.

Running has always been that one thing my body could never do. Growing up I wasn't allowed to run or do much physical activity without someone getting on me to calm down. Running to the corner and back would cause my heart to race and face to flush. My lungs were probably worse, gasping for breath while my parents denied I had asthma.

You see, when I was a baby I contracted something called Kawasaki Disease. It was the early 80's and pretty much no one had any idea what was going on with my body. High fever, swollen glands, etc...and it could have been a number of things except for one some strange symptoms that led the doctors to realize that I had somehow acquired a rare autoimmune disease that typically only affects children of Japanese origin (and event then mostly boys). I don't remember much of what happened to me since I was just a baby, and the lack of any contact or relationship with my parents (and the other 99.9% of my family) prevents me from learning, but the disease did damage to my heart at the time. I may or may not have had heart surgery, and lack of medical records prevents me from confirming. I did have an aneurysm, apparently, and until I was fully into puberty I had to visit the doctors at CHOP for stress tests and the such every year. Fun. At some point I was declared to be ok, but activity as a kid was still cautioned, so I ended up playing sports like volleyball and softball where your heart rate remained on the lower scale. Riding my bike and rollerblading in my teen years were my main source of heavy cardio, and even then, as I climbed in speed, my lungs would continue to tell me to feck off (and still kinda do).

When I started running a few years back, needless to say I sucked. I had put on excessive weight from a difficult pregnancy, had to have hernia surgery, and was dying to get back on my feet. I had always been a biker (not exactly a "cyclist") and remember watching the tour as it climbed The Wall during the cycling classic that used to be held here in Philly. Growing up partially in Manayunk (where my mom was from), the steep climbing streets didn't really affect me. When my parents divorced and I would still keep in contact with my mother I remember peeling down that same road on my roller-blades sans breaks, slowing hockey style towards the turns (sometimes with a cigarette in my mouth in my pseudo-punker style of a angsty teen with home troubles). I come from a screwed up family and did some dumb shit to my body and because that screwed up family also has histories of really screwed up health on both sides, postpartum I needed to get healthier and back to, no, better than, my normal self.

I joined a gym and started lifting weights. I love lifting. It relieves aggression, and is just fun. My Eastern European ancestry, however, likes to put muscle on - fast. Bulking is super easy for me, so, in addition to weights every morning, I started running. I am too ADD to like those elliptical machines and the bikes with the big padded seats make my legs chafe. I was scared to run at first, but once I hopped on the treadmill, I kind of liked it.

My husband signed me up for a 5K a few months after that, so I pounded away of that devil machine a few times a week after work (in addition to am weight training still), and my ego was pleased when I actually completed my first 5K in under 30-minutes. (I apparently scored 3rd place in my age division as well, which I discovered only last year when I was going through the old race report). Now, a few years later, my 5K is a little more acceptable, but not by much. My lungs still hate me, but at least now I have medication and inhalers to help me when I feel like an elephant it sitting on my chest and the stabbing makes me feel like I am going to loose my lunch (or energy gels, which taste nasty coming back up ).

One year and two 5Ks became two years and a few more in addition to a 10K, which led to three years and a half marathon (plus my first 24 hour bike ride where I completed 160 miles), which led to year four and my introduction to trail running and charity century rides - plus a duathlon, which leaves me at year 5 and my first marathon, ultra marathon, and set of triathlons.

It has been a long few years into this journey. I have been in physical therapy twice for three injuries and have had needles shot into my toes for another ongoing problem. I have burned through a dozen pairs of shoes, even more pairs of shorts, bought my first bike that actually has gears on it (I was a single speed / fixed gear rider for the past ten years or more with the messenger bag to go with), and learned to swim. Yup. Until this past April or May I couldn't swim. I could "not die" in the water, but that would only last about ten minutes...tops. Now I'm preparing myself to push into limits that still make me want to hurl over in anxiety.

So why do I run?

I run because for almost 30 years of my life I couldn't.

I run because now I can and there are a lot of people who cannot.

I run because I have a 6-yr old with almost as much energy as me and I need to be around a long time for.

...and I run because it sucks.

And pushing through a few hours of something that genuinely can suck, I think, will make you a better person in the end: stronger, more confident, braver, and wiser.

Life can suck sometimes, but in a few hours, everything will be ok - and you'll have some awesome views from the journey.