Careful what you wish for...

Stephen and I walk in the warm Edmonton evening, arms around each other' waists. We are barefoot and walking in perfect synchrony. It reminds me of our dating days when the world seemed so carefree in hindsight. I love the feeling of freedom that barefoot walking offers me. This connection with the earth reminds me of why I love running so much!
 My sides are still aching from laughing all night. The shroud of darkness that has seemed to be my constant companion lately had lifted for a few hours as I laughed to tears with my family watching episodes of Mr. Bean and America's Funniest Home videos.

There are 6 weeks left until Sinister 7 and I haven't been able to run in a week. My calves have become so tight that I cannot run through the pain any longer. Believe me, I have a very high pain threshold! When I was first diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, I ran on a swollen ankle anyway and applied ice afterwards. When I had psoriasis on my feet, I would run anyway and come home with bloody feet. But last week when I tried to run a kilometre, the pain took my breath away and I had to take the LRT the rest of the way home. I wondered if a muscle could get so tight as to break a bone? My legs felt wooden and would spasm if I tried to roll them out.

I ride my bike to the University and back every day to attend my classes in hopes that I can make up for lost training runs somewhat. I have also gone to see Leigh Garvie at Coronation Physiotherapy to get needling done on my calves but it's a game of patience and I don't have much time left! My husband has been deep-tissue massaging my calves for a few days now trying to break up the knots. It always brings me to the very edge of panic and I really have to concentrate on my breathing. At any moment, it feels like my muscles will suddenly give out and relax and relief will come flooding in but I just can't seem to get past that intense moment, nearing blacking out. It's so frustrating! What if I can't make it in time for the Sinister 7? What if I can't make the power of our combined strength a reality? What if I let down all those who are counting on me on their behalf?!

A few weeks ago, I secretly wished I would break a leg so that I wouldn't have to go through with it. The emotional and physical toll of the past year has left me hollow and I am so tired of the pain from both! So careful what you wish for, you might just get your wish granted! Only this is worse because there is no honour in this and I have failed our cause! Two years worth of rising way too early in frigid temperatures, two years worth of holding out for something better, two years worth of tears and training and mental toughness! I haven't lost hope quite yet but it's looking pretty grim, the clock is ticking unmercifully. To some this may not seem like such a huge deal but for someone who has never had a runner's injury and with so little time left, I feel that I let down a lot of expectations, most of all my own...

When my husband and I first came up with this fundraising idea, I had sky high hopes of making a difference, of changing a life, of carrying on the the legacy. But I realize now that I am not very inspirational and I no longer have my brothers' strength and faith to carry me through, to wipe away my tears or to crack a joke when life got too tough. My brothers with Duchenne's Muscular Dystrophy taught me that strength may not have anything to do with the physical and everything to do with the will! I miss you, Lehi and Mathoni and I could use a miracle right about now!

Speedwork and friends

Yesterday I did to 12k runs to the office and back home again. Tuesday is usually our interval day. I have a love-hate relationship with interval training. I live the results, but they don't come right away, and it hurts to get your heart rate up that high. On the other hand, sometimes I get into the zone and feel the "flow", at least that's the term Virginie learned in University to describe that feeling of euphoria and connectedness with ones body that happens, but sometime not so frequently for me. On my way to work, I ran to work to get there. I tried to keep an aggressive pace, but found myself often stopping to catch my breath. I did not time myself either. Lately, I've not been timing myself at all. For one thing, I have the GPS watch to Virginie. I miss is a little bit, but not that much. The way I see it, the watch can tell you when you need to pick up the pace, but can also tell you when you are going to fast. If I have no running watch with me, I am forced to run by feel. I find this helps me. I tend to run faster than I think I am. Still, this morning in particular, I was struggling for breath. In contrast on the way home I felt great. There was definitely some "flow" felt then. I was light on my feet, moving fast, and even though out of breath, able to sustain the pace for substantially longer.

I'll be doing some strength training tonight and 15k tomorrow morning. Best pace as possible. When I cannot hold the pace any longer, I'll take two minutes to recuperate, and then try to match the pace again for as long as possible. This type of training helps with the lactate threshold. As I understand it, it's that area between aerobic and anaerobic activity. The higher the anaerobic threshold, the faster I can run on just fat metabolism. This is a pretty basic way of looking at it, but it's worked for me.

Likely 10k on Friday night and 45 to 50 on Saturday morning. I think we'll be well prepared. Well do the Sinister Seven training camp in early July, and two weeks later River Valley Revenge 100k. Two weeks later, race day!

If you have not had a chance to support our cause for Muscular Dystrophy, please visit our fund raising site and donate. Perhaps we can have some of these wonderful boys running with us eventually.

Zero Drop

Well, my Zero Drop Mizuno Wave Cusoris shoes are taking a pounding this week. Late last week I was getting excited for "barefoot season" and walked to the LRT station in my Vibram 5-fingers. I really do like those shoes. In the past on Saturday mornings, the Kids and I have gone out to the green area behind our home, and run in our bare feet. There is really no feeling like it to me. A couple of years ago, I decided to take it to the next level, and started running in my bare feet on the pavement. I really did love it, but I could not go for very long before my feet got a little sore. I read that in time, they toughen up, and to not give up, but I always have some race I'm working towards, and so have never been able to slowly build up my foot pads enough to do anything more than 3 km or so on the sidewalk.

When Virginie and I started training for the Canadian Death Race last year, we decided to use a "zero drop" shoe. A zero drop shoe basically has no rise in the heel. Your foot sits evenly parallel to the ground both at your toes, and at your heel. Zero drop shoes mimic the positioning of your foot during barefoot running, which I like. I personally feel that by doing so, I keep my feet and ankles strong, and avoid potential injury. It's not that easy. I've had lots of chances to injure myself over the years. Avoiding injury has been a learning experience, and there really is no "magic bullet" to it. For me, regular stretching has been important, but still not enough. When I feel that familiar "pull" at the end of a muscle (usually in the hips, knees and ankles), I head straight to Leigh Garvie at Coronation Physiotherapy. She uses IMS needling to loosen up the muscles and it really works wonders for me. Stretching keeps the next visit a little further away.

Another really important thing has been learning the difference between "good" and "bad" pain. I've been using the "3 strikes" rule myself. Basically, when you feel some sort of pain, tighten up your form. Make sure your landing light. I prefer a midfoot/forefoot strike myself. It took a while to get use to, but barefoot running really helped to develop this. In a nutshell: You work toward striking the ground 180 times per minute, or 3 times per second. Your foot should connect with the ground slightly behind you. Your literally falling into your next stride, and then catching yourself. Running this way maximizes my energy through "elastic recoil" or your foot's natural rebound mechanism using the arch and Achilles tendon. Tendon's, unlike muscles don't wear out. As a result, landing with my foot behind me forces those tendons to stretch and propel me forward into my next stride. I can conserve valuable muscles for later.

This week I decided no running early Saturday morning. So, I'm trying to get all my kilometers in during the week. This means running to and from work everyday. There are no hills, so that's what I'll have to switch to next week, but it's great for endurance training. It's 12km each way, and I'm going for a 100km week. 4 days * 2 times per day * 12 km is 96 km. Then, I'll do 4 km in my barefeet Saturday morning (10:00, not 4:00 am) haha!!!

One last thing to say. A couple of weeks ago we visited a family who had 2 boys with Duchennes. They were a wonderful family. Kind, and generous, and very blessed (they had a super nice home). Virginie has touched on most of that experience, and so I'm not going to try and add too much, but there was one moment that evening that really stood out to me. I saw the older brother dancing with his younger brother. The game would have the cute couple hug and dance together sometimes holding hands. They were both smiling and laughing. The older brother struck me as such a kind and caring person. I was so impressed with him. I think having a brother like that must change you. It makes you more compassionate, and less selfish. He's definitely they type of young man I hope shows up at our door one day to take one of my daughters out. (Sorry, I hope I'm not embarrassing anyone!). To that family, I just want you all to know I'll do my absolute best to raise money so that your wonderful Son's can have as many of life's experiences and treasures as possible. Thank-you so much for the wonderful evening.

Rise up!

It is often when I am in my darkest moments, that I come to find the answers that I need. I suppose it is because only then, do I become open to their possibility. I write freely today. I'm not going to be embarrassed about what I write. I've never really opened myself up to anyone, except my Wife. We've talked a lot about the emotional struggles of running. I wish I understood why our runs go this way. If I did, maybe I could change it. Unfortunately, I cannot. All of our runs lately have been miserable. The weather does not help. Guess what? There was snow on the ground this morning. It hovered around 0 with a cold wind out of the north. The windchill hovering around -7. With 2 months until race day, I get nervous that we're not getting in any hot weather training. Virginie picks up some of these queues. At least, that is how I see it right now.

It's got me thinking. History is replete with those who, under tremendous odds and struggle, rose up in their moment of trial again and again to fulfill. I don't know who any of them are, but look at our society today? We live in a tremendous society, and I think the future looks tremendously bright for us. There are perhaps many who will suggest that we will over populate the earth, and destroy the ozone layer, but I look at the rising generation, and I see in them the type of people who think outside of the box. I believe they are ready to face the challenges of the future, and will face them with optimism. They may reject many of the ideas of past thinking, and that may be difficult, but in the end, I believe the rising generation will "rise up", and provide solutions to many of our most difficult problems.

My circle of influence is quite a bit smaller. Frankly, I have a hard enough time controlling myself :). With that said, I offer my commitment. I will also "rise up". I will not give up. Virginie told me that this morning. She won't give up until she's told she can't try anymore. Rising up may be different this time. If I had to choose between my Wife and running, then see you later running, Virginie is the most important person in the world to me. Perhaps people can still donate to that cause. Either way, each of us will arrive at a point at the road (or trail), where the trail does not go where you expected. You'll be expected to make a decision at that point on which way to go. I may be facing that decision. I guess it's my turn to "rise up", pick a direction, and run on. I tend to see life in black and white. Meaning, once I make a decision, there is no going back. That's not true though. If I pick a direction, and after running it a bit, I can always turn back and take the other. Perhaps it's the case that it would be better to take the wrong way. You see, the quicker I learn which way is wrong, the quicker I can get back on the way which is right. I just cannot fear making mistakes.

If you have some encouragement to offer though, please add it in the comments. We really need it right now!!!

That's why we do what we do!

Nich comes in through the door holding a grocery bag filled with yummy smelling Chinese food. As he lets it slide down to the floor, he readjusts his balance then ambles his way to the bannister, the classic Duchenne's posture evident in his walk. In order to counterbalance their top heaviness, boys with Duchenne's will stick their stomach out, their heads pulled in to their neck like turtles. They carefully pull up one foot at a time and using momentum, swing it forward, then the other. They tend to swing their shoulders and arms as well to help with the forward motion. I can't help but feel a little nostalgic emotion as I watch him, remembering my brothers when they were much younger. There is a tendency to jump right in and help but that just enables their feelings of helplessness and strips them of their dignity and accomplishments. As much as possible, they should be encouraged to do as much as they can on their own.

I immediately recognize that spark of fun and mischievousness in Nich's eyes as he comes over to say hi. It's the same one my baby brother Mathoni always had shining in his eyes. You always knew he was up to something and it usually didn't take long for him to spring it on you! I resist the urge to wrap him in a big hug because we have only met a few times even though his mom Laurel and I have known each other for quite some time now. His father Ricky comes over carrying Nich's older brother Benson over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and ever so gently positions him on a kitchen chair at the dining room table where supper is waiting for us. Benson reminds me of my middle brother Lehi; quiet and reserved but with a light of great wisdom and compassion shining in his countenance. His deep love and concern for his mother is so touching, something I had also noticed with my own brothers toward our mother. There is an intimate bond between mother and sons, a mutual respect stemming from sharing such a heavy load. 

Watching them discreetly throughout the supper conversation, I realize they already hold a piece of my heart because they remind me so much of my own two brothers and how much fun we had growing up together and how much I miss them both! But for fear that they think to themselves "Why in the world is this psycho woman paying us so much attention?!" I stay at a socially acceptable distance away. My attention turns to their oldest brother Spencer. He reminds me of my brother Sam. Is it human nature to draw comparisons with something familiar in order to understand and relate to something or someone? Just like Sam, Spencer received the "good X", so he does not have the disease but I wonder if he carries the weight of the implications of it on his shoulders just like my brother did? In my mind, I imagine them both standing side by side; stalwart guardians, protectors and keepers of their younger brothers. They spare no thoughts for themselves but serve their younger brothers with unfailing loyalty along with a healthy dose of an older brother's duty to tease. They are the ones left to carry on the family name.

Benson, Nicholas & Spencer

After supper, Nich rides on the chair that will take him downstairs to the family den. I'm trying to remember that movie where I've seen this type of chair before. I turn to my teenage daughter for help. "You know that movie with those cuddly creatures and if you feed them after dark they turn into monsters...?" Nich pipes up, are you talking about "Gremlins"? We both chuckle. Ricky comes down the stairs with his sack of potatoes again. Benson quietly and confidently gives directions to family members who pass him the X-Box remote while his father makes sure his son has established his balance on the chair before moving off. I notice he is wearing those plastic braces that my brothers used to wear which support the ankle and foot to prevent the foot from pointing downward and keep the Achilles tendon stretched. The idea is that wearing them hopefully delays the need for the Archilles tendon surgery performed to release the resulting contractures. In the late stages of the disease, both my brothers had that surgery done because their legs would get so tight and painful. 

I watch Spencer interacting with his brothers throughout the evening. They are normal brothers with the usual bugging and teasing but infused with intense patience and brotherly bond. It seems that what boys with Duchenne's lack in dystrophin and gross motor skills, they make up in fine motor skills and dexterity! Watching them adeptly manoeuvring in racing games is amazing! I remember watching my own brothers playing Unreal Tournament. They would both play as one character, Lehi usually doing the strategy and shooting, Mathoni taking care of the manoeuvring and directions. They always had deadly accuracy and it didn't take long for others such as my husband to declare that it just wasn't fun anymore to play with them. No one could come close to their combined skill level!

Laurel talks about their many travels around the world. They realize that the time will come when travelling will no longer be feasible due to the limited mobility and progressing fatigue of her sons but also because of the weight of the power chairs that will soon become a necessity. But wherever they travelled her sons were treated like celebrities; the red carpet was pulled out, they were ushered to front row seats and granted special privileges. One Sunday, the whole congregation stayed after Church to shake their hands and thank them for their inspiration! It warms my heart to think that there are still people in this world who recognize pearls of great prices when they see them and treat them accordingly.


                                                      Ricky & Laurel with their beautiful family!

I cannot end this post without mentioning Harvey and Marley, their two cats. Not enough can be said of pet therapy! Animals can sense when their presence is needed and they are usually happy to oblige. When one is having a bad day or is suffering, the mere sound of a purring cat or the stroking of a velvet ear or even the comforting weight of a warm body against an aching heart is the best medicine anyone can prescribe!

The evening ended too soon for my taste. The older I get, the more room in my heart there seems to be to accommodate all those who wiggle their way in!

Muscle, muscle, who's got the muscle

A couple of weeks ago I  had an epic week of training. I don't always want to be pushing the envelope this way, but it worked out okay for me this week. Generally, my rule of thumb is no more than 10% of my longest run, or my weekly  kilometerage. This means if I did 40k long run and 60 for the week, I would do no more than 66 for the week and 44 of that for the long run. It helps to avoid injury. Something I have been prone to since I started running 10 or so years ago.

The week I speak of had a 24 km run on Tuesday, 15 on Thursday, and then 42 on the weekend, for a total of 81 kilometres. My muscles were definitely sore after the week was over, and I spent a great deal of time rolling out my quads and it band. For sure, I feel the fatigue in those two muscles the most.

I'm not sure what it would feel like to have Duchenne muscular dystrophy, but Virginie tells me that when her brothers were transitioning from life walking to life in a wheelchair, that they would often cry because of the pain in their muscles. Her Mom would lovingly apply hot packs, and massage their muscles for them, often to tide them over. Both Virginie and I have said it many times in our blog, but because of their lack of strength, we feel they put for ultra marathon effort many times.

We keep trying to get out to a family that have a couple of boys with Duchenne's. I think it happening next Saturday. We are all busy, so it's a sacrifice for us both to meet, but I am really looking forward to it. I'll be sure to post our impressions after.

When I got back from 46 km this last weekend, I was really exhausted. Virginie was feeling strong this week. A couple of days ago I told her I thought she was being merciless near the end. When we get tired, we will often pick a target and run towards it. Then walk for a whole. The little mini goals really seem to help. With that said, Virginie picked a goal that was more than 2 km away. This was too much for me, but I did not want to be wimpy, so I ran anyway. When I asked her why she had picked such a far away goal she responded "I did not want to be wimpy" lol! There was a nice thing about are run this weekend though. We ran in an area where we had previously not set foot. It was brand new, and exciting. For Virginie and I, that's saying a lot. I don't mean to brag, but our training has brought us from one side of Edmonton's river valley to the other. We really needed some new ground.

Oh, and no snow :-)

Because of Him

I run slightly ahead of Stephen and our son Baden, their laughter still ringing through the quiet Kennedale Ravine from the imagery I left in their minds. I had explained to Baden that some master yogis apparently are able to meditate so effectively that they do not feel the cold as they sit crossed-legged up on snowy mountain summits in their underwear. I'm not sure what those pant things are called. The imagery of wise old men in their underwear must have tickled Baden's funny bone because he was still laughing about it a few minutes later, his complaints of "runner's gut" forgotten for a while. It's that feeling that all newbie or out of shape runners feel when their stomach has been shaken up and down for a few kilometres. Although my son has a lot of heart, the fact that he really hasn't done much running all winter can't be ignored. Father and son are training for a 10 km night run called Storm the Fort this weekend.

The all too familiar sound of our running shoes crunching on old snow is really getting tiresome but Baden feels confident in his new shoes from Fast Trax. If there is ever a best place to buy shoes, it's there. The small shop with the huge reputation known all across western Canada has the best knowledgeable staff you could ever ask for! Every staff member lives the vision of owner Jack Cook in serving their customers until they are more than completely satisfied. A staff member spent over 45 minutes with my 11 year old son, treating him like a fellow runner, helping him chose from over a dozen pair of shoes until Baden was beaming from ear to ear in his final purchase.

 There are little pillows of snow on top of the pine boughs and the sky is the same colour as the ground; a uniform egg shell tint. It would be very pretty if not for the fact that according to the calendar, Spring arrived several weeks ago. Maybe Mother Nature didn't get the memo?! After last week's disastrous run, I spent a lot of time thinking this past week, in between studying for final exams. It has been a very long and tough semester, not just with school but with lots of other challenges coming our way. A family friend teases us saying we don't have enough trials in our lives, we add our own set through our running! I do find it annoying that even though I did say I was quitting last week, there is a fighting spirit deep within that will not let me be! 

Seeing my son courageously running alongside his overachieving parents inspires me so deeply! He does not find anything wrong with the idea that he is only running a tenth of what we are training for. That boy seems to have no fear when it comes to running! It is obvious to see his sense of entitlement as a fellow athlete and I am so proud of his courage and uninhibited vision! The reaction we get most often when we explain our goal to people is an instant declaration of their inability to run even a few kilometres! It's as if we are immediately placed on a pedestal so high that no one can touch us. It creates such a feeling of isolation! Can't we still be friends even though running may not be the commonality that connects us?! I used to be one of those people, not being able to comprehend why anyone would possibly want to put themselves through that? Why? 

How did I get from there to here? Because of love. Because I wanted to share in my husband's world, I wanted to get to know him, to understand what made him tick, what drove his passions. My first official 15 km just about killed me! That is what I absolutely love about the running community-- whether it is the first step of your running career or the last step across the finish line, there is always that sense of camaraderie, that understanding that we have been there too, that willingness to share your pain and your triumphs, your setbacks and your comebacks. 

Last week, I had lost sight of that vision. I had forgotten where my true strength lies. I had forgotten to laugh, to have fun even through "runner's gut" or any other physical trial. I had forgotten the bigger picture, I had forgotten who I was doing this for. As I open my eyes and more especially my heart, I tie my laces a little more tightly, I run with a stronger dose of determination, I squeeze my husband's hand a little more firmly and I look to God and live! Let me show you those moments that bring me inspiration...

 My hubby will always be the keeper of my heart and my dreams!

 My son, the little runner with the huge heart!

 The husband and wife team from Winnipeg who inspired the theme of our fundraiser! They are even more inspiring in person! And so dynamic on stage! :D

 And ultimately Because of Him, I have been given a second chance... or fifth or sixth....

I don't think running for me will ever be easy but I am a fighter! And I have the example of my brothers to thank for. They never stopped fighting until their last breath! They ran countless ultras back to back to back. I only have to run a 100 miles. So here's to you, Lehi and Mathoni; Shadamehr and Cedric, Nich and Benson, and all those families for whom I am running for. You inspire me! You are part of my strength.