Post Race Breakdown: Part 2: RACE DAY: The Good, the Bad, the Ugly. And Boy, did it get Ugly.

Flares rattled my body the week before the Tri. I was consumed with worry and stress and a sore throat which made me so tired I could barely imagine covering 32 miles in a few days. But with an emergency acupuncture appointment and the love and energy of my friends and family, I felt better by the big day and was able to get through the flare without destroying my body. I went to the Tri Expo, wide-eyed and horrified and excited the day before and bought more things I didn't realize I needed-- I bought Suit Juice, a compact towel, an emergency tire repair kit that I did not know how to use and I prayed to the Flat-Tire-Gods that I would not get a flat tire, because let's face it, I had no idea what it was I just bought.

Can you see the wide-eyed excitement/panic?

I sat on the living room floor of my apartment, a sea of gear and nutrition and expo pamphlets surrounding me, not knowing what to do first. I decided to start with putting on my temporary number tattoos. I peeled off the number stickers on placed them on my bike, on my helmet, on my bags, I stuffed nutrition and water and gels into the zipper of my backpack, I checked and re-checked my gear, marveled that the big day had finally arrived, took sleep meds to calm my mind and somehow by the grace of the Universe, I managed to get six hours of uninterrupted restorative sleep.

I woke up and took a shower to loosen my morning stiffness, acknowledged that I didn't feel horrible, had two waffles with peanut butter and a banana (surely that is a triathlete's breakfast), took my vitamins and my green powder, and Kajal picked me up at 4am. We loaded up and took off. Timing wise we got to the transition area with about 30 minutes before it closed up. We needed to be out of transition by 5:45am. I set all of my things down, not knowing exactly how to set my gear up, but I did the best I could. I said a little prayer to the Transition Gods, and went on my way. I found Kajal waiting for me on the grass and we made our way to the Chicago Triathlon tent that was just setting up.

All I could think was, THREE HOURS.

I have THREE HOURS before I am set to start.

My Tri Mama, Kajal.

I was plagued by many things the day of the tri, but one of the worst curses was the fact that I was placed in the LAST wave of International triathletes. This meant that, yes, I had to wake up at 3 am, but I would not be competing until 9:20am. Three hours of nerves, three hours of watching other athletes start, three hours of saying goodbye to Kajal and the other CTCers as they made their way to the water,  three hours of the sun getting higher and brighter and peaking in the 90s, three hours of psyching myself out.








I finally started to get my wetsuit on around 9am and I walked purposefully down to the line that was forming for the 46th wave. While in line, I ran into my friend, Keely, whose husband had just finished the Sprint Distance. "How'd it go!!!???" I asked him. "Horrible!" he said. He looked proud he'd finished, but he was glad to be done. The swim had been hard for him. Keely snapped this pic of me as I waited to get in the water. Seeing them gave me a small burst of encouragement and the feeling that I could do this.

I'm about to jump in the lake!

Energy surged through me. I was so ready. I got my cap all set, I got my goggles ready. And I hopped in the water along with 150 or so other women between the ages of 31-34. We had 30 seconds or so to get used to the water, and then the officials shot the starter gun, and we were off!

The beginning was the best.

For that first half mile or so, I had calm strokes, I had even breathing, I was moving well.

And then everything started to unravel.

Unfortunately for me, the next wave after mine was the Relay. Relay teams have three different people to do each part of the tri, and the person who is strongest in a particular event takes that leg. We're talking swimmers who can do the mile in less than 20 minutes. All of a sudden, swimmers started taking over all the space around me. I had carved out a good position, but the fast relay swimmers swam around me, over me, in front of me, to the sides of me. WHERE DID THEY ALL COME FROM????? I thought, my brain not clicking right away that these were the relay swimmers.

My breathing started to become more shallow. The fast breaths dismantled my strokes and my heart started to pound. Instead of every four strokes like I had practiced, I breathed every two. I swallowed water and coughed up Lake Michigan.

And then my goggles fogged up.

But I had bought anti-fog goggles! What was happening!?

I stopped mid-stroke and took off my goggles, hoping I could unfog them. I put them back on and still was having trouble seeing. I didn't understand what was going on, but my heart and breathing were not cooperating with the one end goal of GET ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS WATER! I started to swim so  far right that I was straying off course towards one of the safety boats.

Well. I guess when you accidentally swim to a safety boat, you might as well use it. 

"Are you okay?" the volunteers asked me.
"Yeah..." I breathed.

This was not how I had envisioned my triumphant swim.

After about a minute of trying to calm down my exploding heart, I attempted freestyle again but it was no use. I resorted to back stroke, and then a minimalist back float, gliding on the water, catching my breath, alternating with a bit of freestyle whenever I felt I could manage. I could barely consider the fact that I was going outrageously slow--all I wanted was to get out of the water. I just wanted to get to that bike. I had not been concerned about the swim before the race at all. I had thought, "Well, yes, it will be slow, but I won't have any problems. Slow and steady."

I did not anticipate the nerves, the relay swimmers, the heart-rate, not being able to see, and back-floating my way to greatness. But this is how it was and all I could do was focus on getting out of the water.

I somehow managed to finish the swim with freestyle and got out of the water, breathing hard as I, at first, tried to run to transition, and then thought, "Hell No," and walked my way to a grassy area to pull off the rest of my wetsuit.

And I still couldn't see. It hit me that it had never been foggy goggles, I had lost my right contact.

Where was it!!!!? Was it in the water? Did it roll in back of my head? I rubbed my eyes, feeling around for a dislodged contact, but couldn't easily find anything without ripping open my pupils, so I figured:

"Well, my contact is either in the back of my eyeball or it's at the bottom of Lake Michigan. Guess I'm doing the rest of the Tri with one eye."

My vision is not horrendous but I do need my contacts in order to function. In an emergency I have used one contact, have even driven on the expressway with one contact (for 20 minutes), but have never engaged in 4 hours of physical activity with one contact.

And so it was.

I took my sweet-ass time in transition. Thirteen minutes to be exact. I ate half a Cliff bar. I dried off. I used the bathroom. I tried to slow down my breathing. And then I got my bike out and headed off onto Lakeshore Drive, doing my best to adjust to my new vision.

One of my biggest fears had been falling off my bike on the way up the ramp to Lakeshore-- that had been the biggest bike concern before the race had actually started (and possibly getting a flat). But now I was dealing with a different reality: my legs were gooey, my heart was still pounding, it was over 90 degrees by the time I had gotten out of the water, I had one contact that was messing up my speed and balance, and instead of the full water bottle I had prepped, I only had half a water bottle for 25 miles (the bottle I had brought had somehow gotten misplaced in Kajal's car that morning and I had been unable to locate another water bottle to set up in my bike).

Thing were not in my favor.

To add insult to injury, being the last wave of the race meant that I was very much racing solo. Not only was I the last wave, I was a SLOW athlete in the last wave with one contact and a wildly palpitating heart. That meant that all the other athletes in my wave had gone ahead of me and I was very much on my own, just hoping I was going the right way. At a certain point a string of athletes emerged from behind me and I felt a little less alone. They were on their second loop of the course and they zoomed by me with ease as I struggled to get to first turn around. By the time I finally did make it to the second loop, I was very much alone. That portion of the race was very surreal to me, as I rode my bike down Lakeshore Drive. Cars in a lane to the right of my zoomed by and I listened to the hum of motors as I focused on the road in front of me. At times I could barely maintain my emotion. Tears poked at my eyes as I realized how tired I was, but they also were tears of great pride and elation...

It occurred to me how very symbolic it was to have the road to myself.

This had always been a race with myself and no one else. There, on Lakeshore Drive, I raced myself. I raced my fear, I raced my doubt, I raced my confidence, I raced sadness, I raced my illness, I raced my heart. I challenged all of these things, and at one point, tears started streaming as I said out loud, "This is for you, Dad." I had just dedicated that moment of the bike ride to my Father. I started to ride for a greater meaning at that point. I started to ride for life. For existence. For the right to endure.

Cars kept driving past me in the lane to my right and I looked over at one of them and cried out "CHEER FOR ME!!!!!" It was a plea, it was a demand, it was a call to action. And the woman in the car looked surprised and a little shocked that this haggard athlete had just requested her support, but from her throat emerged this enthused "Whooooo!!!!!" As silly as it was, that little voice of encouragement helped push me forward, and in the distance I saw another biker who was also going slowly and I rode behind her and then next to her and then I called out in uniting agony, "We're doing it! We can do this!" She nodded at me and groaned her own personal story of pain and I rode in front of her, the one athlete I managed to pass on the course. I was dizzy with exhaustion and soft focus from my blurry eyes.

I started to sing to myself with what little breath I had left. I had 25 miles on this rickety blue bike, Merriweather, (I named my bike Merriweather when I bought her because she was old and curmudgeon-y and needed extra attention like the little Blue Fairy, Merryweather, in Sleeping Beauty) with very little water. I might have been starting to lose my mind a little, yelling at cars and singing and such. Whatever it takes, I thought. Just get through it. I came up to the end of the bike course, my emotion surging as I processed that I had just finished the second portion of the race. I half strolled, half ran back to the transition area, again taking my sweet time. I drank whatever water I had stashed in my gear to try to make up for the very dehydrating bike ride, and I put on the race belt with my number 7046 attached to it, very unsure how my run would go. I would probably be out in the sun for another hour and a half to two hours in what would be the most mentally and physically challenging part of this race for me.

It had always come down to the run. To the knee. To the last ounce of energy I had. Except I had nothing left. There was nothing left. I'm not sure I can properly convey how very little anything I had left in me. I had always been concerned on how a body with Fibromyalgia would respond to all of these events back to back, but now with the sun and the dehydration and the one contact and the bad knee, I had absolutely no energy. But this voice just kept telling me to find it, find something, find anything. And somehow, I found the fumes of determination and I kept going. I persevered. I pushed. I walked the first half mile trying to catch my breath, I stopped at every single water station, drinking as much as I could, dousing myself with water, sticking ice cubes in my hair. The sun was blazing. It was well over 91 degrees with no shade on the course.

And there was barely anybody left. The athletes who had started 3 hours before me, 2 hours before me, 1 hour before me---they had already made their way through this part of the course. The crowd was there for them. There was no one left for me. Every once in awhile in the beginning I would get a little cheer from people telling me to keep going, or a shout out from someone who recognized my Chicago Tri gear, "Chicago Tri Club!" they'd shout. But as I got further in, there was hardly anyone on the course. Even the volunteers were sparse at this point. There were regular joggers on the Lakeshore path at this point amongst the scattered leftover triathletes. I felt so sick I wasn't sure how I could possibly get through 6 miles. I started to run, a pathetic little jog, but I was surprised that the knee was holding up so I kept up with the scuffle. I hobbled up next to another man, one of the only people I'd seen on the run leg of the course, who looked to be struggling as I was. We acknowledged each other and jogged side by side for a minute, "I just want to finish this," he said suddenly. "Me too," I breathed. That's all I ever really wanted.

But fatigue overwhelmed me. I pulled back and stopped. "Come on, keep running," he called to me, half encouraging me,  half giving me a hard time. "I have to walk," I told him, and I watched him jog ahead of me and out of my view. I spent the next mile or two trying my hardest to keep going and I walked so very much of that time. I was again struck by how symbolic this was. It was an odd triathlon of my own, it all came down to mind over matter. Did I want this or did I not?  

...There is no one out there to make you finish this except yourself. There aren't crowds cheering for you. You need to cheer for yourself. You can do this. You will do this. This has always been your race. You've always been racing yourself. You've got this. And there is no way you aren't finishing this. You will crawl over that line if you have to but you will finish this...

I ran for a bit and then passed the Fire Station where the firemen had cracked open their water truck and were spraying all of Lakeshore path with a glorious burst of water to give the triathletes momentary refuge from the heat. I walked into the sweet water, the giving beautiful water, and let it drench me. It helped revive me from the sweltering sun. I looked to the firemen to my right and silently said "Thank you" and looked up to the sky and held my face in the downpour of the graceful water. After a bit, I summoned some strength and started jogging. I jogged for maybe a quarter of a mile, and all of a sudden, from my peripheral view, I saw an athlete hobbling toward me. It looked like she was skipping or limping. I thought for a second it was an athlete with one healthy leg and one metal running leg, teetering as she ran. But no.

It was HILARY!

My roommate, a runner herself, had asked me if she could run me in the last few miles. At first I wasn't sure--I had wanted to do this on my own, but the night before, I had welcomed the idea of Hil runing me in, knowing I would need morale. And I had needed it so badly at that point that I became overwhelmed when I saw her bundling towards me, overjoyed she had found me! I had forgotten that Hilary would be looking for me! My tracking hadn't been working and it had appeared I hadn't finished the bike portion, so she didn't know where I was or if I'd gotten sick, she just stuck by mile 3ish waiting for me, about to turn around and go home when she looked up and saw me. I started crying and we hugged as I told her I was never doing this ever again. She walked with me when I needed to walk, and she ran with me when I decided to run, and sometimes she would run and I would look ahead and tell her to stop it because I just couldn't, please stop running, I have to walk this, there's nothing left. It went like this for almost 3 miles.

I had run for almost 3 miles when I had thought I wouldn't be able to run at all.

And then I saw in the horizon the finish line.

Words can't quite describe the emotion that started to surge through my body as I caught sight of the finish line. I was so close. I had a quarter of a mile left to go and my body seized up with emotion. I had to stop for a moment and walk, and then I started again and tried to run, holding back tears, my body producing great heaves that threatened to turn into sobs of relief and joy. I half started crying, half started running faster, exhausted, overwhelmed-- unbelievable emotion like I'd never felt rippling through me. It was the rawest state of emotion I have ever felt coursing through my veins at an electric rate that both propelled me and left me breathless. It took hold of me and I as I got within 20 feet, a smile spreading across my face, I summoned any possible strength I had left and ran as fast as I could as I heard the announcer call to anyone that was in the immediate area to put their hands together for me.

I raised my arms in the air and held my head up high and smiled this grand smile of triumph as tears streamed down my cheeks... and I crossed that finish line in a strong run, my body immediately erupting in a loud sob. I bent my head to my knees, catching my breath, crying in great heaves, overcome with raw emotion. I have never experienced anything quite like that moment in my entire life.  The moment I completed my first Olympic Triathlon.

This makes it look like I finished in 8 hours. It was really 4:37. I'll take it!

I never stopped. I never let the setbacks take away this dream. I could have stopped before the Tri even started. I could have stopped after the swim. I could have stopped at any point.

But you must never give up. 

You can take a dream that seems impossible and make it your reality.

You can take back your spirit and your health and your life.

You must persevere.

You must do all it takes.

But you must never, ever give up. 

Post Race Breakdown: Part One

It has been over a week since I completed the Triathlon.

Yes, COMPLETED! Finished. As in....I DID IT!

I supposed this recap has been hard for me to put into words, because completing the Triathlon has meant more to me than probably anything I've ever done in my entire life.

It was the hardest thing I've ever done and also the most meaningful.

The months leading up to the tri were full of emotion and mishaps--a stolen bike, a wetsuit purchase gone wrong, a painful knee injury made worse by Fibro--but on and on, I endured. The triathlon became everthing to me. My focus. My goal. My soul.

Aside from beating Fibromyalgia and taking control of my physical body again, it also represented the taking back of my emotional health, as well. A devastating breakup in March left me heartbroken. Around the same time, my father's diagnosis of possible dementia, possible pre-Parkinsons, possible they-don't-know-what-yet-but-definite-mental-decline destroyed any strength I had left.

And to top it off, I hated my day job with a passion, and had started to question my commitment to theatre and performing. All of a sudden I had no purpose, I had no love, no support, a job I hated, a parent who might as well be disappearing or dying, the knowledge that my parents were struggling emotionally and financially, and a crumbling sense of self and strength. And the fibro symptoms wreaked havoc on my poor body. I was the sickest I'd been in so very long. Every day I woke up broken, beaten, bruised by life--and because of this beating, I was even more broken by fibromyalgia. Fatigue lived within every cell I possessed, nerve pain rattled my body, my brain was a cloud of fog that at its very best masked the severe depression I was living with, and at its worst, was so thick it helped me to disconnect from what I was living through. I was on the floor consumed with such overwhelming grief at all hours.

And then I thought, NO MORE.

I suppose I had thought of the Triathlon this past winter and had decided that I would train for it with my boyfriend at the time. We would train together, we would do the Tri together. And then after the breakup, I dismissed it. Who would I train with now.

MYSELF.

That's who.

I, all of a sudden, started running the idea past a few close friends.

"I don't know....are you sure?"
"Don't you want to start with a shorter distance?"
"Can your body handle that?"
"You're crazy."

These were some responses I received. And each of these responses only fueled my fire. I knew my friends meant well, but deep down I thought, "How dare they!" Why can't they just support me. Why can't they embue me with love and hugs and everything I need and all the support in the world. It was the same from my family. When I told them I had signed up for the Triathlon and that I was going to announce it to my friends on Fibromyalgia Awareness Day, I was met with "Can you even swim?" And the far worse and egregious, "Are you sure you even have Fibromyalgia?" I was at lunch in DC with my family over Mother's Day Weekend. And I got up from the table.

And I left.

I walked out on my family. And I left the restaurant. And I ignored their phone calls. And I seethed and breathed and walked the streets of DC until I finally picked up a call and came back to the restaurant because my Dad was getting upset and worried about where I was.

My own family questioned whether or not I had Fibromyalgia. My own family didn't understand what I have been living with day in and day out for years. They did not understand the severity of my fatigue, nor did they understand the shooting pain that makes me shout at times. They did not understand my own diminished mental clarity when the symptoms flare. They did not understand how most mornings I woke up feeling as though I had never slept at all. And I got angry.

I got so very angry.

And then I realized, how can they know what I live with when I don't talk about it?

I've been such a silent sufferer, hiding behind this illness because I don't want it to define me, I don't want people to pity me, I don't want them to think I'm any different. But I am. To a certain degree, Fibromyalgia does define what I can do and how I feel, and how can they know if I don't tell them?

That's when I decided not to let Fibro define me any longer.

That's when I decided to start this blog and to start spreading awareness. One of my main concerns was that people who didn't know much about Fibro would assume that anyone could just work out and do a triathlon--- I didn't want to mislead the ignorant. Because training for the triathlon was such a delicate balance of listening to my body that the slightest wrong move could leave me paralyzed with fatigue. I am reminded of the beginning, when I triggered a two-week flare by doing too much too soon. I am reminded of the tears on my floor as I could not even lift my body up, so overcome with pain and exhaustion.

That was 6 months ago, and this is now. And now, I am an International Distance Triathlete.

Fear.

And then there is that lonely, fearful moment, the one where you've been sneezing for the past three days and now your throat starts tickling, and you are all out of your magical green powder and the dumb UPS truck didn't deliver it even though you signed the back of the paper dammit, and you are afraid you are not only about to get sick, but also trigger a flare--because as you realized in May and June, getting sick and even fighting off being sick triggers flares.

Because you HAVE had nerve pain for the past two weeks in varying degrees.

And because you HAVE been tired.

Because your symptoms have been better, but the truth is, they are still there. Because there is still fog, there is still tenderness, there is still pain, and there is still exhaustion. Because you still know your limitations and at the end of the day, those limitations must be respected so dearly.

Because you wanted to swim a mile tonight but thought against it--because to swim that far right now would possibly trigger a flare by overexerting when you are already fighting off a bug.

Because it is soon your moon and your body's cycle can cause a flare because you sleep poorly during those nights and less sleep can make your symptoms worse.

Because there are a precious few days left to mentally prepare. And you are excited and scared and nervous and afraid that this is actually happening.

Because you're afraid you'll break your knee off if you DO decide to actually run and withstand the pain, now knowing you won't cause damage.

Because you are afraid you'll trigger a flare RIGHT before the race.

Because you're afraid you will trigger a horrible flare right AFTER the race.

Because you have never ever done this much activity all at once, and even now, you have never put all of the components together, and you really don't know what that kind of exertion will do to your body and energy supply. This concern exists for a healthy person who has been training, but for someone fighting fibromyalgia, the risk in destroying your body for the next few days to weeks to months is at the forefront of your mind.

Because it is not just about the endurance and muscle and speed you have gained through training, it is also about this syndrome that ultimately calls the shots.

Because you also have TWO AUDITIONS the evening of the triathlon and you might be physical and mental goo by the time you actually read for the directors.

How is that for dedication to your craft.

Sending good energy. Breathing in energy.

Zinc. Sleep. De-stress. No flares. Zen.

FIVE DAYS!

NO SURGERY FOR ME!!!!!

After a lovely trip to MRI land, my knee is not torn up! It's still the chondromalacia patella, it has just gotten real out of whack from overuse and poor muscle strength in my hips and glutes and more. Physical therapy for a few months should fix it! And the doctor says I will not injure or tear anything if I run on race day, so it will come down to how I feel. This is fantastic news! I think the pain has been magnified by the Fibro and my pain receptors just being crazy. Oddly enough, that is a connection I never made til a few days ago.

The backs of my legs look like I'm a battered woman. It's just Merriweather, my bike, kicking my ass. When I start going really fast, sometimes my feet fly off the pedals, hit me in the back of my ankles and calves, I almost crash, and then I have bruises the next day. Also carrying my bike up the stairs causes these stunning marks. Someone at work asked today "Getting beaten up?"

And I have my rental suit! I think I look like a superhero.

FIVE DAYS.

A mile swim tonight.

A long bike ride tomorrow.

Then I taper.

This is happening!

2 Weeks to Go.

If I was one to listen to the Universe (and I am) the Universe has very clearly been sending me some messages that perhaps the Tri is not for me.

Let's sum this up here.

You need to swim, bike, and run.

Did I purchase the wrong wetsuit from a little lady on Craiglist and did she refuse to reverse the transaction?

YES.

Did my bike get stolen off my balcony?

YES.

Is my knee busted to the point where the medical advice is to not run at all?

YES.

The Universe has thrown some wrenches in my grand plan.  Perhaps it is telling me not to do the Tri.

But perhaps it is also seeing how bad I want it.

And I want this bad.

Because my bike my have been stolen, but I bought a used Blue one I named 'Merriweather' and she and I are getting along just fine. In fact, we've hit 25 miles together.

Because I may have thought a wetsuit was just a wetsuit and didn't know that you shouldn't race in a dive suit, but I hit a mile for the very first time in Lake Michigan WITHOUT any wetsuit. And then I did it again a few days later. And I'll do it again tomorrow. And I'll go that much faster because of it when I rent the tri specific one for race day.

Because even though I cannot run, I will walk the 6 miles on race day because I'm crossing that finish line one way or another no matter what.

The running is a disappointment for sure. It's funny that what has caused the most issues while training wasn't even fibro! It's not how I wanted this first race to go down. But even I have to acknowledge it would be unwise to run on it. And that's saying a lot, considering how stubborn I am. It has been bothering me for months, and I really believe that it was not the training that caused the issues with the knee ---certainly it was aggravated by the few runs I did complete--- rather, there have been underlying issues for years. The doc thinks it is possibly damaged cartilage, possibly cartilage fragments. Maybe it's from the 1/2 marathons I've completed? Not sure. Worse case scenario is surgery. Best case is that physical therapy will help a ton and the doc won't need to get in there to clear anything out. At this point, if it was just the doctor saying, "Don't run, be safe," I probably wouldn't listen. But the thing is, I can't run. It is too painful. Walking has been painful. My knee hurts on the train, hurts when I'm trying to go to bed. It feels better than a week ago, but I have had knee issues for years, and it's finally caught up with me. I'm going in for a fancy MRI on Wednesday to see what's going on.

I could be destroyed with this news, but I am not. Because when I look at the physical state I was in 3 months ago, I am so much healthier and stronger than I was then even WITH the injury. The fibro fatigue is minimal, the nerve pain is minimal (not gone though--but better), and the fibro fog is so much better (even though I did forget my pin # to my debit card again twice in one week. Oh well!) I have not followed the traditional training schedule like I originally planned, rather, I have had to take multiple rest days, like 3 at a time. And that's fine. That's what I could do knowing the danger in triggering another flare. I listened with precision and when I thought I should push, I pushed. And when I thought I should stop, I stopped. I have muscles, I have lost weight without trying, I am sleeping better, and I have had something to focus on while I was healing my body and my soul. My mind has had this one beautiful/awesome/boundary-pushing place to go in a time of turbulence. At a time when I honestly didn't know if I wanted to be an actor anymore, when I didn't have a show to throw my creativity into, when a relationship had just ended, when craziness/sadness in my family was raging, when I wanted to walk out on my day-job....there was the triathlon.

I honestly do not know what kind of state I would be in right now mentally and physically if it were not for the Tri.

And so I am grateful.

This has been so challenging, this has been the summer I quit acting to be a triathlete, but this will always be the summer I took myself back.

And realized just how strong I am.

One Month To Go!

I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6:45am and hopped in the shower even though I'd still be getting lake-ified, but I needed to loosen up my muscles and take the edge off of morning stiffness. I was on my way to Lake Michigan to attempt my first half mile swim in open water. I was meeting Kajal, a super cool lady from the tri-club, and we were off for an 8am ish start. Fleet Feet was awesomely renting wetsuits for $10 bucks/ 2 hours, so I thought, let's try it!

Damn, it's hard.

Kajal took off, she was going to do the mile, but all of my breathing technique quickly evaporated as I struggled in the current. Lake Michigan has got some waves, y'all. It does. I wore my knee brace under the wetsuit, and with the compression from the brace PLUS the suit, my knee wasn't an issue at all. Though Kajal had told me that if she were my physical therapist, she would be telling me not to be training for the Tri right now. Good thing she's not my PT! I said, "BUT I SPENT SO MUCH MONEY ALREADY!" To which she said, "Ok, start strengthening!" She's a physical therapist and has given me some good advice on getting back into run mode eventually. Which means NO RUNNING right now. But soon.



The point of this story is that I swam that 1/2 mile. I swam it slowly, but I swam it. And out on the water I saw my new tri friend Dave attempting his 1st mile. Friends! Tri friends uniting in spirit and one common goal! I have also met an awesome para-triathlete who has similar pain issues in addition to only being able to use one arm.This dude gives me inspiration! We're all doing this!





I only just told Kajal the day before that I had fibromyalgia. I didn't want to necessarily set myself apart from everyone else, but I have to be honest with my limitations and I know it's nothing to be ashamed of. It just means I have to go more slowly and listen to my body with extreme precision. I just don't want people to get the wrong idea about this syndrome. I don't want people to think that fibro doesn't actually limit people, that it doesn't limit ME, and that I'm able to do this kind of thing all the time. I don't want to misrepresent what this disorder does to people. But it's either staying sick or taking it into your own hands to do everything you can  to feel healthy. This took months of flares to get to the point where I'm at now. It's no easy task to take your body from negative activity to massive activity without going through the inevitable modes of 'overexertion.' But I've done it. And sure, I've had days where I've felt like someone has pulled my plug out of nowhere. Those are the days I stop. It just depends how forcefully that electrical outlet has been tampered with.

Kajal's response to my fibromyalgia?

"Way to go, girl!... Way to go balls out with the International distance as your first race!"

Sometimes I can't believe I'm doing this.

But I have to admit, I've noticed more energy and I've felt a surge of spirit. I took a broken body and a broken soul and started weaving the pieces back together. And you know what?

I'm more proud of this than almost anything else I've attempted in my life.

I have about a month left to get things in gear.

Like Kajal says, I'm going balls out.

~K.xx

Cortisone and 90 degrees.

Continued knee issues. My old rheumatologist fit me in and gave me a cortisone shot since my prescription anti-inflammatory has been doing squat for my knee. Apparently I have a sprained ligament which is causing issues. He messed with my left knee a bit to see how they were different but it feels like he flexed it too far and now the left is pretty sore.

DAMN MY KNEES.

Still waiting for the cortisone to take effect.

Still do not have a bike.

Lymph node is super sore, fighting off illness best I can.

Less sleep cuz of the moon and the weather.

Trying to keep flares in check.

It has been over 90 degrees for the past 3 days.

We have no AC.

HEY UNIVERSE, knock it off!

STOLEN BIKE = BAD KARMA FOR EVIL THIEVES!

My bike was stolen.

Needless to say, this sucks. BIG TIME sucks!

I woke up early Sunday morning for my longest ride yet, and when I opened the door to my porch balcony, it was gone. I had planned to ride 25 miles down to Promontory Point, had been a good girl and didn't go out the night before, but what I had failed to realize was that someone had actually scaled my balcony and stolen my bike off the porch two nights earlier. I just hadn't realized it til Sunday morning. Oh, sweet, sweet, mountain bike that I had converted into something ride-able, farewell. I had this bike in Chicago for 6 years. And the first time I actually needed it for something important and upgraded its gear, someone decided to case my joint and steal my bike. 

DAMN HUMANITY!

I have one word for the thieves: KARMA.

They may have pocketed a few dollars selling my bike parts (and my new helmet) but they will forever have bad karma.

Luckily, I have a few amazing friends who have offered to let me train on their hybrid and or road bikes, and one friend even offered her bike up for race day. I also have a few random triathletes I've never even met before from the Chicago Tri Club online forum, who have offered their assistance and their bikes for me for that weekend!

There are some good people out there. I'll figure it out and I will not let evil bike thieves ruin my race or my training.

OTHER UPDATES:

1. Did my first open water clinic. I failed to consider that: YOU CAN'T SEE SHIT IN LAKE MICHIGAN.

I was able to use a wet suit from Element Sport and test it out. Well, damn, swimming in a wet suit in open water with many other people all going toward the same buoy and hitting and elbowing each other by accident AND the current make your technique disappear faster than a jar of Nutella sitting in my cupboard.

I will need to work on this.

2. Right knee remains super busted. I'm pretty sure I have an effusion and I'm icing it and wearing a compression sleeve. This stinks. Say bye bye to running for awhile.

3. Lymph node is swollen since yesterday. Please please please Health Gods, please fight off whatever is bubbling and brewing in my body. I cannot deal with another flare like in May. I won't. Not when my knee and my bike and my family are going crazy. I should have known that stress would eventually cause another flare, but I am saying NO. knock  it off.

4. Accepted a role with Lifeline Theatre Company that starts rehearsals in December! Understudying two tracks! Yay theatre!

5. Fibro pain remains in check. Sleeping has been okay, so less pain. Slight nerve issues, slight costo issues, slight fog, but nothing major.

OKAY. So, figuring out this bike thing. Right. To buy a hybrid or borrow? To buy a road bike or borrow? 

Updates will come shortly.

Love,

K.xx

Still tri-ing...

Brand new shiny slicks and a new saddle have made a big difference in my biking! Took it out for a 2 hour ride over the weekend and it was awesome. I still went slowly and didn't hit 25 miles which makes me worry about how long it will actually take me to do the bike portion of the race, but at least I covered more ground than normal. I can't invest in a new road bike right now so I had to convert my mountain bike the best I could. $90 bucks later, I have a smoother ride, but it's still not fast. Well, I'm not trying to break any records here, just finish the race. So I'll go with what I've got.

My pool is closed. I had hit 1250 yards when I was back in Michigan, but I only got in one swim workout last week and it was not good. I was so tired. Got 30ish lengths in and had to stop. Skipped the swim workout on the 4th because I was doing 4th of july things! And now my pool has a busted pipe so it won't be fixed until next Monday. Which means my next swim workout is going to be in open water after over a week of not swimming. More like almost 2 weeks! I'm going to a swim clinic in Lake Michigan on saturday morning so I hope I don't drown. It'll be the first time attempting open water. I'd better get used to it.

The running has come back. Kind of. I got out for a 45 minute run and it was awesome! Tight right knee but not bad pain. I had acupuncture during the weekend and I think it might have helped. The acupuncturist put two needles in my left arm near my elbow to help with my right knee. Definitely less pain. But the run last night lasted maybe 25 minutes and I had to stop because of pain. DAMN RUNNER'S KNEE!

Tri club meeting tonight at Goose Island. Hopefully i'll start meeting more Tri-ers! I need some more tri friends!

F*#$

Several developments.

My first bout of costochondritis while swimming hit me in the pool back in Michigan. I had gotten about half hour into a swim workout when the first stabbing pain in my ribs started. It was intense and every time I breathed in I would feel a stabbing sensation like I was being stuck with knives all around my heart, not just on my left side where I normally feel it, but my right side as well. Both sides of my ribcage at the same time!? WHILE SWIMMING? My breathing and strokes started to become erratic and shallow, as I could only breathe in small breaths so as to avoid the stabbing. I started to freak out. What if this happens in open water???? I stopped at the wall and rested for a moment and tried to stretch out, but knew I should keep going. I turned onto my back and started backstroke for a length, then when I felt well enough, I started with breast stroke. Things seemed to loosen up after 2 lengths of breaststroke and I kept going for another 15 min or so before I knew I had to stop. Aside from the fact that the gym was closing, I was in pain again. All I can do is pray I don't have any costo issues while swimming Lake Michigan.

Back in town now, it is as if all the energy I had while at my parents has disappeared. I am positive the traveling took its toll, or maybe it's just that it finally caught up with me, or maybe it's just that I sit all day long at my desk job. In any case, whatever is causing it, my workouts have sucked. They are not the amount of time or miles I have been scheduled to swim/run/ride.  In fact, I have skipped two workouts already this week and shortened the other ones. My knee is still busted even after a month + of not running and doing strenghthening exercises. I made it out for a 20 min run tonight though, so, maybe at the very least, I can just hope that I'll run through any pain a month and a half from now when the big day comes.

Planning on going on a bike ride tomorrow and maybe going to hot yoga to see if I can reset.

Onwards and slightly discouraged slightly daunted but still enthusiastic, and still planning on rocking this thing.

Training out of Town

So I'm in Michigan and helping out with my family for two weeks, it was a planned trip but one that I knew would be hard. There are many issues to deal with, medically, financially....it's a lot. A lot. And stress can trigger flares and make things difficult, I'm doing the best I can, so far just a little of the ribcage pain and a tiny bit of nerve pain. Fatigue has been surprisingly manageable even with all of the manual labor I'm doing to help get my parents house fixed up.

I joined my old gym for two weeks and have been using their pool and cycling. I've actually stuck to a working out schedule, though not the real training schedule I was following before. It's all gotten modified because my right knee is still killing me. Mostly I've just been swimming, and I ran for the first time in about 3 weeks only last night for about 6 minutes. That's all I could handle. I've got big problem if I can't shake this knee pain.




And for anyone who might wonder, Annie's wedding was amazing and the whole day was beautiful :)

Well. That Hurts.

Got what I hoped for.

Waking up sore NOT because of fibro but because I worked out.

Yay?

The weight training/zumba on Wednesday and last night's long swim caught up with me. After icing my poor knees last night because they felt jacked up, I decided to veer off schedule and have a recovery day out of order. That, and I was running around today with the bridal party for the wedding I'm standing in tomorrow. There was no time to fit in a work out unless I did it this morning, and I was too sore this morning to do anything. And I'd like to give my knees a few days to feel more normal as well.

So.

Modification and resting when I should. Yes. The lightning bolts have been back today and yesterday. And the ribcage pain. Not quite back with a vengeance, but enough to tell me to slow down for a second. So I will.

Wedding tomorrow!

Back to it Sunday.

Zumba (is not biking)

I'll strength train you and raise you a Zumba.

Yes, I know Zumba is not part of my training plan, but on Wednesday nights the most fabulous little gay Mexican man teaches Zumba. His name is Edgar and I remember the first time I took one of his classes. I was having a horrible week. (We can blame it on the parents and the ex). I went to Edgar's class, and suddenly, I had reasons to smile and shake my booty and have ridiculous fun working out! I approached him afterward and said, "You know, I've been having a really hard week, but this class just made everything a little better." And his face lit up and he threw his arms up in the air, "Awwwwww, sweaty hug!" he cried. And he hugged me.

So I like going to Zumba on Wednesday nights when time allows. One time I even had a glass of wine right before class and my workout resembled a frickin' dance party.

Anyway, tonight's workout was modified.

Brought to you my ME and sponsored byyyyyyy Misterrrrrr Edgarrrrrr! (this is to be said with a sassy Hispanic accent.)

I strength trained for awhile at the gym and looked like an idiot trying out machines that looked familiar but ended up being foreign. Found a few that did the trick. And then. THEN I realized it was Wednesday. I don't know why I thought it was Tuesday. But it was Wednesday.

It was a good workout too! Except these knees are killing me. I know the knee stuff is not fibro related, it's totally the chondromalacia or runner's knee or whatever they said it was. Wore the patellar band in class, it really helps.

So far, I've stuck to the schedule and I only modified Monday's workout because GLEN HANSARD was playing in Millenium Park. For Free. Well, yes, I'd rather watch an Irish superstar sing in my city for free with a picnic and one of my best friends than go swimming too. I had the best intentions to swim when I got home, but I was pretty tired by the time I made it back to my apartment. I did a few of the physical therapy exercises for my hips and knees that my friend taught me, messed around with some resistance bands, and called it a night.

But on the whole, I am feeling decent. I'm nervous to say I might have gotten past the hardest part, the actual beginning and shocking my body (that most of time feels like a mini war zone) with more physical activity than it was used to. Those early flares were so disheartening. But I am feeling pretty good, so much healthier than just a few weeks ago. More energy (which I might credit to Green Vibrance? 5-HTP? I don't know!) I swam last night hardcore (well not hardcore, moderately and with sloppy technique---but more ease than last week) after a ridiculous commute from Skokie back to Chicago. It took me three hours when it should have taken me an hour and 15. Every wrong travel decision put me in direct line of a location or bar or restaurant that I had some kind of memory with my ex. And then I was upset about my family. Add the humidity and my PMS in and the commute and stabbing memories broke me down. Well, SWIM to the rescue. I hauled my cookies to the gym and did about a 1/2 mile! My longest distance yet. AND I slept all the way through the night last night. Not even one wake-up. Small victories. I don't know if it is because the exercise is tiring me out (likely), but even if it was coincidence, it is still great to get uninterrupted sleep. Now was it restorative? Wellllll, I still woke up pretty sore and tired (and not workout sore, just fibro sore), sooooo.

Mornings are still hard. My body is still pretty stiff in the AMs. I'm hoping at some point it will just be sore from working out and not sore because of fibro.

That's all I got.

~K

The 1st week

Feeling good, feeling good. Energy levels are waxing and waning, but on the whole, have been doing okay. Swam twice, ran once, biked twice, will probably bike again tomorrow. My knees are actually not feeling awesome, but I figure since running is my stronger event, I can set that one to the side for now while I keep doing strengthening. And I'll add the Mobic prescription in to proactively keep down inflammation.

Green powder seems to working well, a little boost in energy.

I was supposed to go to an open-water clinic this morning at 8am which meant I'd have to get up at 6:30 ish AM, and I set my alarm and woke up, but it was one of those moments where my body just wouldn't do it. I probably 'could' have gotten it together, but when you can sleep, you'd best sleep as much as you can so your body won't rebel on you. Trying to treat my body as best I can without overdoing it.

Sleep levels have actually been fairly decent the past week, save for last night. Maybe because I had ribs at RibFest :) Red meat! It might just might do me well to kick out red meat completely, I know it can cause big time flares.

Long bike ride tomorrow and if all goes well, I'll have finished the first week without triggering a flare.

Success!

Day 1 and more

The past week has been better. I've started taking a fine little supplement cocktail every day, who knows if it's really working, but there is some spirit in me yet! I also found this green super food powder (Green Vibrance) that tastes oh so god awful but is palatable if you down it with juice  and I really do honestly think it is giving me some pep in my step. I'm now working with a daily multi-vitamin, vitamin D, 300 mg of 5-HTP (this is the one i'm really curious to see if it will help with fibro pain and insomnia), and am just adding in the green super powder now. Into the mix shortly will be CoQ10 and Sam-e. These apparently are great for fibro.

Ok! Of course after a week of feeling better and doing yoga and walking and getting an hour long run in there, I am not feeling well on day 1 of training. WHHHYYYYYY. Can't I for once feel energized on the first day of my awesome training plan? I had grand plans to swim today for 30 minutes. But life put me in the dressing room of Macy's at the final bridal gown fitting for my beautiful friend whose wedding I am standing in in two weeks. She looks shockingly stunning, by the way, and I have learned how to bustle with the best of them. Here's hoping one day I will find a man who won't have cheating issues, commitment issues, or a past with illegal substances. But I digress!

Back home, and I'm exhausted. Like REALLY exhausted and have been all day. EVEN though I slept straight through the night last night. I had acupuncture on Saturday and went to a sound meditation on Sunday night. Did my deep sleep have anything to do with this mind/energy work I engaged in over the weekend? Not sure. Possibly. The acupuncturist definitely recommended treatment once a week to help with the fibro and flares and insomnia. I'm game. What the hell.

I really thought I might just push training to tomorrow. But I didn't want to quit.

On my first day.

So at 9:15pm I walked my ass to the gym and did the only thing that seemed feasible since there was zero energy for swimming and running didn't seem smart since my right knee has been acting up. I cycled 10 miles on the stationary bike and did a little strength training and some situps. And you know what, I actually am still exhausted but feel better than when I left for the gym. So on occasion, I guess I do need to push through the wall of fatigue and just do it. Like Nike says. Only I'm sure Nike didn't feel like he had the flu most days when he said that.

I have a feeling the training will be modified all of the time. I'll do my best. But my main worry is that I will trigger flares by being stupid about this. Just like I'm learning more about meditation and being present and mindful, I am learning to be mindful of my body and listen to what it needs. So when it tells me to shut up and bike instead of swim, I'll do just that.

Day 2 tomorrow. And on Wednesday I am going to my first meetup/clinic for the Chicago Triathlon Club! I JOINED THE CHICAGO TRIATHLON CLUB. I really wanted and need the advice and support of others who have done this before and are doing this for the first time. It will be good to make tri friends who are also going to jump into Lake Michigan in wetsuits.

 Who am I???

I am Katherine and I am training for the mother fucking triathlon, that's who I am.

And with the training and recent urge to delve into my more spiritual side with energy work, I have a feeling the next three months are going to be one hell of an athletic, spiritual, and emotional ride.

The Lymph Node

Ok.

Trying my very best and being more positive. I'm now confident that this most recent flare was triggered by some virus that my body has almost fought off all the way.  I've gone to Bikram two nights in a row and am definitely feeling more with it. Even though the lymph node on the side of my neck is still sore, I've got more energy and pep than I did on Monday. Absolutely. What is this strange lymph node I speak of? Well.

When I was fifteen I got very sick and no one knew what was wrong. Reallly sick. I remember being horribly fatigued and feverish and sore and nauseous, I don't really remember all of the symptoms, but I do remember this lymph node on the left side of my neck was what everyone was so scared about. It exploded to the size of golf ball. It was hard. It seemed to be the source of all my pain, I could barely even move my neck.

A doctor pressed on it to do a pain test, 1-10, 10 being the worst pain possible. I think I said it was around an 8 or 9 when he pressed down. "A good sign," he said.  I know my parents were afraid it was cancerous, but ultrasound and MRI proved it was just a crazy lymph node that was fighting off an infection.

But no one could figure out what it was. I went to an Infectious Disease specialist and was tested for many bizarre things--Cat Scratch Disease was in the running for awhile until I tested negative for the second portion of the test. The final diagnosis (and one no one ever seemed certain about): a vague decision that it was most likely a Staph infection.

I went on crazy drugs that helped me out (and turned my pee orange).

I had just been suffering through all the craziness while still going to school, though I'm sure there were a few days of not going to school. I definitely was taking meds while going to school and doing the Freshman/Sophomore shows and performing and feeling so sick. I remember I had gotten a haircut and was nervous that everyone would see how enormous this lymph node was and worry about me. I of course recovered after a few weeks but his lymph node has stuck around for 16 years. When it starts to get swollen and painful I know that my body is working hard to fight something off. Sometimes it is a precursor to me getting sick, sometimes it gets swollen and I never get sick, and sometimes I just feel gross while it makes its appearance. It is the oddest thing ever. It is like a crystal ball of health. When it appears I know I will either be feeling very poorly very soon OR I have an opportunity to fend off the illness before it sinks its teeth in and really take very good care of myself. I've also been sick many times without the node ever even making a fuss.

It has never gotten to the size it did when I was kid. But it still always makes my Mom nervous when I tell her its back. My Uncle has said, "You should just cut that thing out."

But I'd rather keep it and let it be a reminder to slow down. Plus, I really don't care for surgery to remove this sucker. It's unnecessary. Is it painful at times? Yes. But is it also a reminder I'm still kicking?

Yes.

A Re-Post I Found: Ten Things Not To Say To Someone Who Has Fibromyalgia

Ten Things Not to Say To Someone Who Has Fibromyalgia

I just found this gem. It is so true. A rare re-post, but very valid. Thanks, Deb!

A Hair Dryer and my Floor

I'd love to say I was a warrior this weekend and I at least went on a run or something.

But I've got nothing. A few long walks to keep the muscles moving. I was so overcome with fatigue. This felt different than regular fibro symptoms, this definitely felt like I was fighting off a bug. For one thing, my glands were extremely swollen. And that one lymph node on the side of my neck that has given me trouble since I was a kid has been tender and sore to the touch for about 5 days now---always a sign my lymphatic system is doing some extra fighting on the inside. I'm convinced now that this exacerbates all the fibro symptoms and it would explain a lot of the trouble I've had this week. But the most frustrating thing is that the thermometer reflects NO illness, no fever, no temperature. No, in fact it mocks me with a body temperature that is UNDER normal. I took it a few times. 98.4, 97.8, 96.4.

96.4?

Well, they do say women have slightly colder body temperatures. Maybe this explains the chill I've had this weekend? Or maybe I really am sick and that thermometer is fucking busted. Fucking thermometer.

I wanted to swim yesterday but it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed. I finally managed to hop in the shower and when I blew out my hair I ended up sitting on my bedroom floor with the dryer. As I turned the dryer off, hair only half dry, I layed down on my floor...simply overcome. I layed down for about 15 minutes, and when I decided to try to get up, it felt like I was summoning all the strength I had just to hold myself up. This realization that I could barely lift myself off the floor overwhelmed me. And I started to cry. How could I possibly train for the triathlon when I could not even lift myself off the floor...In that moment of extreme physical weakness, my whole heart and soul felt weak again. Sadness for my family, sadness for lost love, just...sadness.

I somehow picked myself up finally and started moving, I got myself out the door and spent the rest of the day doing errands, played the ukulele at night. Today was a bit better, forced myself up and out the door to meet my friend for brunch, followed by the Nature Museum and a walk through North Pond, and then to a Memorial Day BBQ. I wish I had more energy, I wish I could stay at the party longer, I wish I didn't have to explain why I'm leaving early to my friends, but the truth is, I am just exhausted.

The truth is, I feel like I've been experiencing recurring flares since February.

The truth is, I just want to feel healthy and right now I do not feel healthy. This is probably the unhealthiest that I have felt in so very long. This is probably the longest stretch of months that I have felt a general unwellness of varying severity almost every single day. I just want to feel that I can at least start the initial training period which I am now VERY scared about starting.

I guess all I can do is hope that these past few days have been so difficult because I really am fighting off a virus.

Tomorrow I will feel stronger.

Shiraz Me...or AM I SICK?

To be honest, I haven't worked out since the Bikram class. Started to feel better Thursday but still exhausted. Friday I just started to feel sick. Not only fibro sick, but sick sick like my body was fighting off a cold or some other nasty virus.

I wonder if my fibro symptoms worsen when I am fighting off illness? Or if they heighten when I have actually caught the cold? It might be worth keeping track of. I know the symptoms get worse every time I'm on my moon, I get PMS insomnia which jacks up the pain and fog levels. I slept until 1pm today. In so many ways this was amazing. I caught up lots. But laying in bed that long made me feel really awful, and it still didn't feel like I had slept. I wish i could wake up feeling refreshed more often, but it hardly happens.

So I wait to start feeling better. I've still been moving, been going on long walks to get to and from destinations instead of taking the bus or train, because I know at least if I'm moving I'll fight off some of the worse of the fibro symptoms.

I also wonder if alcohol consumption is causing more trouble than it's worth. It's not that I drink a TON but I do like a good glass of wine. I've had drinks several times this week. So adding in the fact that I've just not been feeling well, I think adding alcohol into the mix might be making things even worse.

Hopefully I will feel well enough tomorrow to get in a swim. Real training has to start in just a few days and I need to be ready enough to trick my body into thinking it's just doing something a little bit more than normal. Easing into this is the best way, just have a road block now that I'm under the weather.

Lightning Bolts and Fog

I affectionately (can it be affectionate?) like to refer to my nerve pain as 'lightning bolts.' When a doctor once asked me to describe what it felt like, I said it felt like little jolts of electricity in my joints or muscles. Kind of like lightning bolts. So when I refer to lightning, I am referring to nerve pain that can often be jarring and downright disruptive. At its best, it's just annoying. And I might shake my hands and think "Ugh. Dumb nerve pain." At it's worst, I will grimace, perhaps stop mid-sentence, and take a moment to work through the pain. I might even yelp because it is so sudden and stabbing.  I seem to be dealing with a lot of lighting the past few days.

Right now I am gearing up to train. I haven't really started entirely yet. I learned the hard way a few weeks ago that my body wasn't ready and so I've been doing what I can when I can and really listening to signs that I need to stop or I need to not be working out at all. I'm probably doing about 3-4 workouts a week at the moment--and not hard ones. I'm just trying to ease my body into the soon-to-be abuse and fool it into thinking it is just working a little harder than normal.

There have been some issues though this week. This dumb nerve pain is really acting up. I don't know if I'm having a flare or what, but I've really been getting lightning bolts in my wrists. Specifically my right wrist, but yes, both of them. And not just my wrists, I seem to be getting zapped all over, today my fingers were especially electric. And the pain in my chest really went off the charts yesterday at work. I was on the phone with a client and all of a sudden it felt like I was being stabbed by tiny little knives right near my heart. I started getting dizzy and struggled to keep a conversation going with the person on the other line, but my sentences were taking longer to get out as I tried to breathe through the pain. I was lucky and it subsided after two or so minutes. If this sounds horrible, well, it's really pretty unpleasant and it was very scary back before I knew what was happening...but now knowing it's just another one of the awesome symptoms of Fibro, I just breathe through pain like this and hope it doesn't last for hours. Usually it's just a few minutes.

Today I had lots of lightning bolts. I tried to shake them off. But when I got home from work, that was when the fog set in. My brain just felt so thick like there was something wrong. I tried to tell my roommate how I was feeling but all I could really say was that I felt 'strange.' All of a sudden I was struck with fatigue and fog. I've tried to explain what fibro-fog feels like to some and it's always hard to describe, but at its worst it feels like trying to think through a cloud of mist. It makes you feel like something is just awfully 'not right.' At its best it's just making you invert words and numbers and say things backwards. And in the middleground, you might just be looking at someone and know they're talking and you are trying to listen but nothing they are saying is going through. You forget things easily. I once forgot the pin number to my bank card for 2 or 3 days. Just, gone. GONE. Can this be frightening? Yes. Can I be at work and looking at the screen and completely lose comprehension of what I was just doing, or where to click? Yes.

Well I got home from work and felt so odd. So strange. I decided I should go to Bikram yoga and sweat it out. My other option was just laying down on the couch and humoring the fog and the fatigue and the nerve pain, but I've realized over the years that when I start feeling like this, (as long as its not an all consuming, I-really-truly-can't-do-ANYTHING kind of fatigue) I should push through it and move. And when I get all foggy and electric, I should really go to Bikram. It is very cleansing. I sweat all the bad toxins out and get fresh blood and oxygen moving through my body.

So I'm back from an hour and a half of sweating and stretching my ass off through 105 degrees and even though it was really challenging especially with the nerve pain and the fog, I ultimately feel a lot better and hopefully will start feeling a little better the rest of this week.

Note to self: PROMISE to do Bikram once a week, even when training kicks in. It is SO good for my body.

Why the Triathlon?

The triathlon, the triathlon, the triathlon.

I am crazy.

While figuring out how to best manage the Fibro symptoms, I somehow realized that I always felt the best when I was exercising. Somewhere along the way, before the diagnosis actually, I ran my first race ever. The Shamrock Shuffle. I had just started running again after a pretty painful hip injury. I was suffering from bursitis in my hip--completely unrelated to the fibro--and after a year plus of not being able to run anymore and being spiteful and hating all runners I'd see outside because they could run and I couldn't, I amped up my bikram yoga classes and started to heal myself from the inside out. 

Bikram yoga is amazing and restorative, by the way, and can definitely help with injuries. 

I finished the Shamrock Shuffle and it was only 5 miles but it meant so much to me. I was healing my body and my heart and proving to myself that I was stronger than I thought. 

A year and half later I ran my first half marathon.

A year after that I ran my second half marathon. 

I have never felt better than when I have been training for the 1/2s. Exercise is key in relieving your symptoms and it is important to not overdo it or else you risk fatiguing your body into a flare. A flare is a very stressful and uncomfortable period of time when your body is experiencing many of the fibro symptoms all at once even though you might have been feeling fine. When I have a flare, I am exhausted, I have more nerve pain, my sleeping gets messed up, and my body feels heavy and my mind cloudy.  Over-exertion is such a worrisome factor in this decision to compete in the tri.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

I decided this year I was not going to do a half marathon again. As healthy as I felt while training for the 1/2s, the amount of wear and tear it caused on my body was too much. In other conditions unrelated to Fibromyalgia, I have chondromalacia patallae. It is very common in younger female athletes, but it is a softening or damage of cartilage under the kneecaps. This causes a LOT of pain. Strengthening the muscles surrounding the knees as well as your hips can really help, but at the end of the day, 13 miles on shitty knees was too much. The injuries I sustained after the last half marathon made me think twice about running it again this year. I hurt my knee very badly and it took about 3 months for it to heal up. I needed something with endurance but less impact.

So I started to think about the triathlon.....

I had been thinking about it for years actually. I had been inspired by a former classmate, Natalie Sztykiel, now Natalie Taylor, who had lost her husband to a horrible accident just a few months before she gave birth to her first son. Natalie was only 24. And she wrote a book about her trials and challenges and recovery that year call Signs of Life.  It's a fabulous book. Buy a copy. In that year, one of the things she did was compete in a triathlon with her sister.  Natalie was such a beautiful and friendly sunny girl in high school. She was and is a lovely human. And I cried through her book and was inspired by her strength, and to be very honest, Natalie was the person to first give me this seed of wonder that perhaps I could one day do a triathlon.

Of course, I never really considered it. Not seriously. 

Until this year. 

To make a long story short, in December I had somewhat decided to take on the triathlon, but by January, flares had me thinking otherwise, and by February and March, the end of a relationship as well as the health complications of a family member both left my soul crippled. So there I was, broken with very bad fibro flares from the stress of life while trying to navigate the sadness and heartache from a breakup as well as the illness of a family member. And my whole world started to feel as if it were closing in on me.

It was emotionally and physically too much for my body and heart to handle.

And out of the rubble, this seed that had been planted long ago started to bloom.

It was in April that I really started to consider it, this crazy notion to bring my soul back and take control of my body and my life and heal myself from the inside out again. Only this would be bigger than the Shamrock Shuffle, bigger than the half marathon, this would be the biggest physical and emotional challenge of my life. Physically, because I honestly don't know if my body can handle it with the overwhelming fatigue and danger of overexertion. Emotionally, because this will not only mean that I am not letting fibromyalgia run my life, but because it will give me a goal to focus on while I heal my heart and gain the strength I need to help my family. 

I started to test the waters the end of April and begining of May a bit and took my very first spin class. I went swimming at my gym for half an hour. (I used to swim a lot as a kid but it has been years). I started to roll out a few runs. One week, I ran for an hour on Sunday, swam on Monday, and did a spin class/2mile run Tuesday. By Wednesday I was having one of the worst flares I'd had in months. For about 10 days I was exhausted--just completely fatigued. I woke up like I'd never gone to bed, my body was heavy, and my heart was sad that I would never be able to do this. I had done too much too soon, I had stupidly hurt myself and thrown myself into this state.

But then I found this amazing woman's blog. Living Well with Fibromyalgia. Like me, she had been diagnosed and then began training for a tri years later. She has now done a half Iron Man. Her story is inspirational and she has chronicled the many joys and difficulties in training as well as the flares from overtraining. But the fact is that she did it and she has done it multiple times. And I started to have the confidence that I could do this too.

So I devised a plan. I would space out some strategically placed workouts to at least get my body used to the idea of heavy workouts. I have been doing so for the past two weeks, just doing what I can, and not too much. 

And I signed up for the Chicago Triathlon and announced it to my friends on May 12th, Fibromalgia Awareness Day.

This goal means so much to me. Not just for my body, but for my heart and soul. 

It takes precedence over theatre right now. I am an actor but more important than performing or auditioning right now, is taking back my self. 

August 25th is the day!

I am stubborn and I will do this. Of course, I scoffed at my friends' suggestions to do the Sprint distance, which is much shorter. No, I said, like the stubborn girl I am. If I'm training for the tri, I'm training for it all the way. It is roughly a .9mile swim, 25 mile bike ride, and a 6 mile run.

Here we go!

What is Fibromyalgia? A Long Explanation.

Fibromyalgia is a complex little bugger. 

I was diagnosed in February 2011 after years of doctors shrugging their shoulders and saying all my tests were normal. I wasn't upset when I was diagnosed, in fact, I was relieved. I could finally put a name to what was going on. The onset of extreme exhaustion and fatigue, nerve pain, muscle pain, stiffness, disturbed sleep patterns and insomnia, cognitive fog, TMJ, stomach pain, chest pain, depression and more was not because I was going mad. It was not because I was making up this sometimes very debalitating pain and exhaustion. It was because I had been suffering from fibromyalgia.

There is a huge amount of controversy surrounding this illness to the point where I have often felt strange talking about it. Many doctors have questioned a fibromyalgia diagnosis as being a "catch all" for all things they can't identify. There is not a blood test or a scan. It is based on a physical exam that identifies tender points and a through a thorough evaluation of your case history and symptoms. 

But it was recently I realized how much I DO need to talk about it. My own family and many of my friends have been in the dark about this condition and that exacerbates the very thing that makes me upset. That people question whether or not you have it. That people question why you're ducking out of events. They wonder why you're so out of it and slow and tired or they think that you're just not paying attention, when the truth is you are just so exhausted and your mind is so thick with brain fog that your body is telling you to stop. 

Some days are better than others. Some days I feel fine. Some days I know I will be busier than others and I save a little energy for later and push through. And some mornings I feel like I've been run over by a truck. On occasion my sleep is normal but most of the time, I wake up at least twice a night, sometimes as many times as every hour when it's really bad. If I wake up only once I consider it a good night. If I sleep straight through, it is a blessing. But most of the time, even if I've slept 8 hours, I wake up feeling like I never went to bed at all. People with fibro have a very difficult time reaching REM sleep and so we never quite reach that restorative state that is so important for our bodies. We wake up unrefreshed. Waking up almost every morning like this is no fun task. Morning stiffness is another killer. I remember one of the first times I started connecting the dots. I thought it was just normal that everyone woke up sore. I thought it was normal that if you stayed in bed for too long your body would get stiff. It was only after finding out that other friends my age didn't wake up this way that I started realizing something was not quite right.

Another fun symptom is inflammation of the cartilage surrounding the ribcage but before I realized it was costochondritis (which mimics cardiac pain), I thought something was wrong with my heart. Just to be safe my doctor ordered an EKG and an Echo. My ticker was just fine.

Bringing awareness to the table is of the utmost importance. People don't know enough about it. And I can't get mad at my own friends and family when they question it if I never bring it up. 

Well, WHY haven't I been talking about it? 

Because I don't want to be defined by it. I don't want it to have that power over me. I won't let it.

I don't want to use it as an excuse for the things I cannot do when I am exhausted, or the things I need repeated, or the difficulty I have putting sentences together when the fog is thick. I don't want people to think I'm weak. But it IS time to start bringing awareness to the table. Sometimes I feel like Fibro is invisible. People question it because they can't see it. "But you look fine!" Or "But you do so much!" are things I sometimes hear. Just because I look fine doesn't mean I'm not fighting through the symptoms. I've just gotten good at dealing with it and not making a big deal out of it. In fact, when I'm taking care of myself, my symptoms are minimal and mild.

There is no cure for fibromyalgia. You can only try to relieve the symptoms. And the symptoms vary in severity person by person. Treatment varies as well, as one person may respond differently than someone else. Finding a treatment plan is a series of trial and error. I have personally decided that going on the meds to treat the pain are not worth the side effects. I have found success with diet and exercise and attempting to get normal sleep. Not sleeping makes everything worse. Your memory goes, the pain increases, the fog increases.

I started to experience my first symptoms in 2005. I remember little lightning bolts of electricity in my fingers and wrists and ankles. It would come and go. The rest of the symptoms amped up over the next several years but they really started in 2008-2011. Sleep problems, jaw issues, stomach issues, and weird nerve pain that felt like being stabbed by tiny little knives very quickly were the hallmarks of my symptoms. Surrounded by the morning stiffness, brain fog, fatigue, and ribcage pain, I knew there was something wrong, I just didn't know what. People with fibro are not hypochondriacs. The pain is real. It is thought that people with fibro do not process pain signals correctly and the result is increased pain. For instance, applying minimal pressure to one of the 'tender points' would cause great pain/discomfort for someone with fibro while someone without fibro would be just fine.  

There is no "one" identifiable cause of fibromyalgia. It is thought to be triggered by physical or emotional trauma, injury, or illness. It could be brought on by an autoimmune disorder, it is linked to Lyme disease, it is often thought to be a comorbid condition that exists with another condition. (And sometimes THIS is the condition that is undiagnosed that has caused the fibro). There are so many factors and there is not enough research.

I have my own ideas about how I developed Fibromyalgia. I originally thought that it was linked to a traumatic event that occurred in 2001. Without going into detail, as that is another story, I have always believed that to be the trigger. That same summer, however, I was in a car accident which could have been the trigger. In the back of my mind still is the theory of chronic Lyme disease or undiagnosed Lyme. 

I used to be a camp counselor and my doctor at the time in 2004 tested my for Lyme when I started to have trouble with my knees. The test came back negative. I immediately ruled it out. Last year I went to a kooky doctor who wanted to test me for Lyme again. I ruled HIM out. But more research on my end has shown me that Lyme tests are very inconclusive. False positives and negatives occur all the time. And undiagnosed Lyme has many of the same symptoms of fibromyalgia. I would like to get tested for it again, but with a Western Blot, which is a completely different kind of lab that needs to be analyzed by a Lyme Literate doctor. If it turns out Lyme is the cause, well, I've got a whole other slew of issues to deal with. But at least that would give me more insight as to what has caused the fibro symptoms.

That is a whole load of information.

This website has even more: 

http://www.fibromyalgiacrusade.com/What_Is_Fibromyalgia_.html

And this all brings me to what this blog is about and why this goal is so important to me. 

Stay tuned!