Fluffed.

Running down by Baldwin Lake in Berea yesterday (my second run of the day), I spotted this guy. So of course I had to stop and try and get a picture of him. I think I annoyed him because he fluffed up at me. I also got a picture of him stalking along the water and just standing looking all impressive.

I also went exploring very briefly in an old cemetery and took some pictures of a few graves of Civil War soldiers buried there. For example, Drummer Hiram Vaughn who served with the 65th Ohio Infantry. The 65th Ohio had a fairly impressive combat record. Here is their combat record from Larry Stevens’ fine website Ohio in the Civil War. After the War, Vaughn was prominent with the G.A.R. locally.

As you’ll notice, I’m a member of Flickr.  I use it to store my digital photographs.  Some areas that might be of interest to my Civil War visitors include my best of the Civil War sets, sets from Gettysburg (working on adding more), and two “kitchen sinks” sets — every picture I’ve taken digitally at Sharpsburg and at and around Gettysburg.  Of course, there are “throw away” shots in the kitchen sink collections, but if you dig through there are all sorts of different angles and shots of the battlefields in there, especially at Gettysburg.

(I’m basically trying to distract myself from worrying about a “routine” CT scan on Monday. There never seems to be anything “routine” about my CT scans, hence the anxiety.)

Signs of Spring: Wildflowers

We have been blessed here in northern Ohio with two gorgeous days in a row — and by gorgeous, I mean it’s picture perfect and warm enough to wear shorts (even when you’re not running).

I’ve taken advantage of the nice weather and run pretty much all over the place.  The picture to the left is along my favorite running trail — the needles from the evergreens make a nice soft carpet for running on.  As usual, I take my camera along just in case I see something worth shooting.

(I carry my camera — a very thin Olympus point-and-shoot model — in an ipod case strapped to my arm.)

There are signs of new life and spring everywhere.  It’s hard to believe that a month ago there was two feet of snow on the ground.

Here are a few wildflowers I stopped to take pictures of along my running route:

Along the suburban areas of my regular running route, I also passed quite a few nice gardens with beautiful spring flowers:

And then of course there are deer everywhere.

My Two Minutes of Fame

If you would like to see me run and (for better or worse) hear what I sound like (yes, I do have a pretty significant Cleveland accent), here’s your chance.

Running Jenny

Make sure you watch the video, of course. Enjoy!

One thing that didn’t make it into the video that I want to say is thank you to my doctor and the nurses and staff at Fairview Hospital and the Moll Cancer Center. In eight months of constant contact with the medical profession, I didn’t run into one bad person. Someone had to have a bad day in there, but they never let it show. I am thankful such smart and compassionate people choose such a tough field as oncology.

the ten essential qualities of the runner

1. Patience.
   • We live in a society that places a great deal of value on instant gratification. Running, however, is not the type of sport that rewards the instant gratification mindset. The Runner must have patience. You cannot become a good runner overnight. You become a good runner through the hours you put in pounding the pavement and running the roads.
2. Humility.
   • Except for a very select few, there will always be someone who can run faster than you. And even for the select few who are able to enjoy the title of fastest, no one remains the fastest forever. So, the Runner must have humility. The Runner must acknowledge that there will almost always be someone faster than him. When The Runner wins, he remembers that next time he may be the “loser” and he treats his opponent with grace as he would want to be treated if he were the one defeated.
3. Courage.
   • There are times when running is painful. The Runner has courage — to face the physical pain of running, and to face his mental demons.
4. Determination.
   • The Runner does not give up. If The Runner suffers a setback, he will be back out there tomorrow trying again.
5. Intelligence.
   • Running is a fairly simple sport — nearly anyone can run. Indeed, human beings are wired to run. There is much evidence to suggest we involved to be a distance running machine. That said, The Runner must be intelligent. He must sift through empirical data, and the suggestions of others, to find what works best for him.
6. Prudence.
   • Related to intelligence is prudence. The Runner must be prudent. The Runner must know when to push his body, and when to back off to live and run another day. The line between being prudent and being rash is very fine in running. The Runner through his experiences learns this invaluable quality and skill.
7. Balance.
   • The Runner knows that there is more to the world than just running. The Runner successfully balances his training with his life.
8. Industriousness.
   • The Runner works hard. The Runner sets goals, and then works hard to achieve those goals.
9. Dutifulness.
   • The Runner knows and acknowledges that there will be days when he does not feel like rolling out of his warm bed to run in a cold rain. The Runner will occasionally allow himself a day off, perhaps, here and there. Yet, he remains focus on his task. The Runner is dutiful. The Runner does not slack. When the weather is bad, The Runner runs anyway. The Runner is not a fair weather creature.
     
10. Generosity.
    • The Runner is generous. He offers advice to new runners, encourages those around him, and tries to give back to his sport in any way he can.

tracing back

Like many runners, I keep a pretty detailed log of my daily runs that contains all sorts of interesting details about the weather, how I felt, etc. I have these ratty handwritten logs (I won’t trust the computer) all the way back to 1998. Pretty impressive. I have every run logged, including my relatively rare races. I have been combing through my old running logs, curious about what my first Hodgkin’s Disease symptoms may have been and when it may have actually begun. I found the following:

• In April of 2005, I complained of being tired, having a headache, and having mild night sweats. I think this must have been my very first inkling of Hodgkin’s Disease.
• In June 2005, I had a routine blood test and was anemic (hemoglobin of 11.0).
• Another mention of mild night sweats in July 2005, along with aches in back and shoulders.
• In November 2005, complaints of shortness of breath doing speed-work, cough, periodic fever and night sweats. Also same symptoms in December 2005.
• February 2006, first mention that my left side seemed hard like a rock.
• March 2006, June 2006, July 2006: the same symptoms I had in November 2005.
• Mention of severe itching on chest that won’t go away, July 2006.
• August 2006: same symptoms, but additional complaint of stuffy head, chest pain. (This was probably SVC Syndrome.)
• November 2006: severe pain in right neck and shoulder, attributed to the computer.
• December 2006: another bout of symptoms, along with more pain.
• January 2007: finally see the doctor.

By the time I was diagnosed, my hemoglobin was dangerously low, my platelets were too low, and I had visible SVC syndrome to go along with the abdominal mass that I didn’t realize was a mass.

I slowly over the course of 2005 through 2007 watched my pace increase (the wrong way) from where I could run a 5K in about 23 minutes to where by the time I was diagnosed in February, I couldn’t run one if someone was chasing me with a knife in under 35 minutes. Now, for example, I can do most of my longer runs at a 8:30 pace (I still lack the short distance speed I once had).

I’m posting this as a warning as to why vague symptoms — even things as simple as “I’m having trouble running hard” or my pace is increasing and I don’t know why — need to be checked out and not ignored.

bad days aren’t allowed

Coming off three excellent runs in a row, today I ran into the proverbial wall.  Runner’s like to talk about “The Wall” — a mythical, legendary beast, a spot where the flesh and spirit become weak, where all you want to do is curl up into a ball and go to sleep.  Upon meeting the wall, your spirit, motivation, and will all drip out of you and form a puddle of discouragement at your feet.

Usually you meet The Wall in a marathon; today I met it running considerably shorter than that.  I was out for a 14-mile run.  The day was fairly raw (mid-30s), quite windy (SSE 19MPH), and it was overcast.  Not ideal running conditions, but certainly not terrible ones either.

It wasn’t a good run from the get-go.  I woke up and felt tired.  My stomach ached a little.  And I just didn’t really feel all that much like running.  Still I put on my shoes and went out the door.

About half way through, my stomach started cramping and I felt kind of short of breath.

The shortness of breath thing always concerns me.  I truly think my first symptom of Hodgkin’s Disease was a decrease in exercise tolerance.  So even the slightest problems with my runs makes me get extremely nervous, even though I know rationally that there will always be bad days, even for healthy people.  But for me …  Bad days aren’t allowed anymore.

I finished the run, but I felt mad for stopping a few times because I felt tired and a little winded.  I’ve spent the entire day trying to convince myself that I just had a bad day, that I’m fine, that I’ll be running normally tomorrow.  After all, I had three excellent runs prior to this bad one.

Fingers crossed for a good run tomorrow.

cold O-h-i-o

It is bitterly cold up here in northeastern Ohio, but the late February snow storm has left my hometown and my running trails looking rather starkly, icily, beautiful.

reflections on a year with cancer

Over on my homepage, I wrote an essay, Reflections on a Year Running Through Cancer. It is a rather raw, but incredibly honest and truthful look at chemotherapy, mainly from a runner’s perspective.

Some of you have been here reading along loyally the whole time, some of you may be making your first visit here today to my blog. I am leaving my Hodgkin’s Disease posts in-tact here as a diary of my experience. However, if you would like to read my reasoned and thought out reflections on the whole cancer experience from diagnosis to remission, feel free to read the essay.

You may be a runner …

One hundred signs that you may be a runner.

1. You start carrying your running shoes and clothes everywhere, you know, just in case.
2. When people ask what you do, you don’t mention your job or profession, you say “I run.”
3. You can eat at least pound of spaghetti at a sitting.
4. People don’t want to be around you if you’re injured because you’re not running and if you’re not running, you’re not pleasant to be around.
5. You know what GU is, you like to talk about your PRs, and your major goal in life is to BQ.
6. Even though you’re not a doctor, you can talk at length about VO2Max, oxygen transport, glycogen, and assorted other physiological terms.
7. You’ve considered taking a course in chemistry or biochemistry to learn more about how the body metabolizes things.
8. You know what a snot rocket is.
9. You’ve developed an excellent snot rocket technique.
10. You say fartlek — and don’t giggle.
11. All your shirts have a list of sponsors on the back.
12. Your idea of a good day is getting up before the rooster and running 10 miles.
13. You start to say things like “I’m ONLY running 8 miles today.”
14. People begin referring to you as the human garbage disposal.
15. Even your dog avoids you because even he doesn’t want to run that much.
16. You have a sports medicine doctor on speed dial.
17. People begin to tell you “I don’t even like to drive that far” when you tell them your weekly mileage.
18. You own so many race shirts, you can’t even close your dresser drawers.
19. You’ve had virtually every common running injury.
20. The trunk of your car is filled with running shoes and gear.
21. At least one of your toenails is black.
22. At least one of your toenails has fallen off.
23. Your podiatrist recoiled in horror at the sight of your feet.
24. You know what plantar fascitis is and you can pronounce it correctly.
25. You have to buy new shoes every month or two because you burn through them so fast.
26. You’ve worn out a treadmill motor (or two).
27. You’ve run so much on the gym’s treadmill, you are burning a hole in the belt.
28. You’ve run for two hours or more on a treadmill.
29. You wear your running watch, even with dress clothes.
30. You don’t think that a guy putting band aids on his nipples is strange in the least.
31. You watch how people walk and have to stifle the urge to tell them they are an overpronator and need stability shoes.
32. When you drive down a road you think this would be a great place to go for a run.
33. People assume your water bottle is an extension of your body because you have it everywhere, even when fine dining.
34. Although you can’t walk properly, you’re still going to “try” and run.
35. You’ve had to walk down steps backwards because you’re so sore.
36. You’ve done a double digit “recovery run.”
37. Even though you couldn’t do math well in school, you have an uncanny ability to calculate mile splits in your head.
38. You find yourself daydreaming about your run.
39. People don’t dare ask you about your running because they know you won’t shut up if they get you started.
40. When you go to a new city on a business trip, you find out where your hotel is beforehand and start planning out where you’re going to go for your run.
41. If a study came out tomorrow that said running is bad for your health, you’d be out running anyway.
42. You write stories about running.
43. You keep a running log.
44. You eat and drink double what everyone else does — and yet you are always the thinnest or fittest looking person in the group anyway.
45. You have every run you’ve ever done logged in detail since you began running.
46. When people don’t even bother to ask if you’re going to go running on major holidays — they know you are.
47. When you travel, you have to take an extra bag for your running gear.
48. Your MP3 player is filled with running music exclusively.
49. You’ve run around the block a few extra times, just to meet some arbitrary mileage goal.
50. You wear shorts even when it’s below freezing.
51. When you travel, you wear your running shoes, just to make sure they don’t get lost.
52. You avidly watch weather.com and the Weather Channel.
53. You’ve seen a major thunderstorm coming, and calculated precisely how many miles you can get in before it hits.
54. You’ve found yourself ten miles away from your car, in the woods, in the middle of nowhere and you were happy about it.
55. You have trouble remembering co-workers names, but you can recall precisely the time you ran five years ago in an unimportant race.
56. You can’t throw out old running shoes because there are “too many memories” attached to them.
57. You find the first and last things you think about is your run.
58. Although you know nothing about the metric system, you know exactly how far to the tenth of mile a 5K and 10K are.
59. Your resting heart rate is so low, nurses say regularly “Oh you must be a runner” without you even saying anything.
60. More than half your paycheck seems to be going towards running related expenses.
61. You flip through your medical chart, and find your doctor regularly comments on how much you run.
62. You’ve planned a vacation around a race.
63. You own trail shoes, road shoes, lightweight shoes for racing …
64. You buy Gatorade by the case.
65. You’ve run through a blizzard, because you didn’t want to miss a day.
66. You’ve run in a monsoon because you didn’t want to miss a day.
67. You’ve run when the heat index is over 110 because you didn’t want to miss a day.
68. Your neighbors all refer to you as “that crazy runner.”
69. You run five miles, as a “warm up.”
70. You see a runner while out driving on a cold and rainy night, and still say “damn, I wish that was me.”
71. You go to races for a chance to meet the opposite sex, since at least you’ll have running in common.
72. Finding someone of the opposite sex willing to talk to you at a race, you find yourself discussing snot rocket techniques.
73. You’ve said “I’m going out for an easy 10.”
74. You’ve said “20 miles” and “easy” in the same sentence.
75. You think golf courses are a great place — for running hills.
76. You spend a lot of hours on running message boards, just to be around other runners, since no one else “understands you.”
77. When you change your running route, the people who lived along your old route notice and miss you.
78. You try and convert everyone you know into a runner.
79. You’ve been told by a doctor that he isn’t going to bother telling you not to run, because he knows you’ll just do it anyway.
80. You have shelves full of “hardware” and medals.
81. You consider 6 AM to be “sleeping in.”
82. You consider a bad run better than no run at all.
83. You like to eat salt.
84. You’ve run on every road within a twenty mile radius of your house.
85. You think meeting a living running legend like Bill Rodgers would be “way cooler” than meeting, oh say, the Queen of England or the President.
86. You know to the nearest second what your steady state, recovery, long, and tempo run paces should be.
87. When you get a new race time, you rush to enter it into a pace calculator to see what your new paces would be.
88. You know the location of all public restrooms and water fountains within a twenty mile radius of your house.
89. You’ve skipped work at least once to go for a run.
90. You’ve gone to court in running shoes because you forgot your dress shoes.
91. You double knot even your Oxford shoes.
92. You’ve run at 3:30 in the morning.
93. The salespeople are the local running store know you by name and know exactly what shoe you take.
94. You’ve tested the casual dress policy at work by wearing a running shirt.
95. You try and convince people to do a 5K, as it’s “only 3 miles.”
96. You think maybe Phidippides fate wasn’t such a bad way to go.
97. You don’t think -20 is too cold for running.
98. You don’t think 105 in the shade is too hot for running.
99. You take an especial pride in the fact that running is used as punishment in all other sports.
100. You laughed and related to most of the above comments.

why I am destiny

OK, I’m not destiny. I just always wanted to use a chapter title from Nietzsche’s Ecce Homo as a blog post title.

Speaking of Nietzsche, that which does not kill us only makes us stronger, right?!?

It’s currently 4 degrees — yes FOUR DEGREES — and it feels like FOURTEEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO. The gym better be open … and my ancient rusting Oldsmobile better start …

Are you listening up there, God? It’s me, Jenny. Know we haven’t been on great terms since the whole cancer thing. But maybe You gave me cancer to test me, to make me a better person. To improve my character. Well, God, I think I have enough character. I’m tired of building character. SO PLEASE GIVE ME 50 DEGREES, SUNSHINE, AND SOME BLOOMING WILDFLOWERS!

Gimme fuel, gimme fire, gimme what I desire: warm weather!

Oh. My prayers were answered! I refreshed weather.com and it is now five degrees and feels like only eleven below. Break out the shorts!

(Someone please remind me of my whining in July when it’s 80 degrees at 6:30 AM.)

(And a better title of this post would have been Why I am not so Wise.)