I said a few weeks ago that I would eventually discuss why I am where I am in my triathlon/running/fitness journey, but I hadn’t given it much thought until yesterday. You see, yesterday was the one year anniversary of the day I stopped exercising.
To better explain, I need to back up a few months. My first triathlon was in September of 2009, and during training and in the months that followed, I lost approximately 25 pounds. Of course, I still had about 35 to go, so I kept active in the winter months with the dream of being hot in my wedding dress the following October. In February 2010 I ended up injuring my hip and being laid up for a couple of months (damn treadmill.) In the April, I signed up for a boot camp to jump start things. Things were progressing slower than planned, but I was getting back on track.
On April 25th, my husband and I rescued a 8 week old Swiss Mountain Dog/Lab mix. After days of agonizing over ski-themed names, we decided to call her Summit. She was tiny when we got her, but she was a spitfire for sure. I couldn’t wait until she was big enough to go on walks and runs with me. So life became full of work, boot camp, wedding planning, and playing with our newest family member. Gregg and I were deliriously happy.
She was a little smaller than we were expecting, hence the giant collar and toy.
On May 15, 2010, I took Summit to her first puppy class. When I parked the car, she looked a little dazed and was drooling quite a bit. I was concerned for a moment, but then she snapped back to life and everything seemed fine. Later that day, she had several episodes and we realized that she was having seizures. We took her to the emergency clinic, where she was admitted and continued to have seizures. The vets ran every test imaginable; everything came back normal. Eventually she was transferred to a facility up in Maine that specializes in neurology. An MRI and another battery of tests came back normal. Gregg and I drove 1 ½ hours each way every night after work to visit her (and stopping for McDonalds afterward.) Obviously boot camp was out of the question at that point.
A little over a week later, we brought Summit home. They had managed to stop the seizures though they still didn’t know what caused them. She seemed to be getting better for a few days, then she started to deteriorate.
One week after Summit came home, I knew what we had to do. It took another week and a half for Gregg to realize it, too. On June 11, 2010, we said goodbye to our furry little baby. After spending a fortune and doing absolutely everything we could have done, we still do not know what was wrong with her. Those three weeks were more devastating than I could ever adequately articulate, and the impact was long lasting.
During this horribly painful process, I was the one who held everything together. Gregg’s father died suddenly when he was 14, so he has an extremely hard time coping with these sorts of things. I had to be his rock. So I dealt with the vets and I made the tough decisions and I was the one who stayed in the room at the end when Gregg couldn't. I can be strong for others, but I tend to internalize my stress and have a difficult time managing it properly. In this case, I managed by eating A LOT. I secretly started smoking on and off for a few months in the hopes that it would help control my appetite. I stopped being active altogether. By the time October rolled around, I had gained back all the weight I had lost. It’s pretty embarrassing to need to have your wedding dress let out.
January 2011 brought the beginning of my Thursday night ski league. I was hoping to turn the page on 2010 and be active in 2011. On the first night, I sprained my ankle while leaving work. I was so angry that on day one of my mission to get active I had gone and hurt myself. I sucked it up and stuffed my swollen ankle into my ski boots and raced anyway.
I realized that skiing was not enough for me, so I said “Screw it; I am doing the Pumpkinman tri again this year.” My goal in the first tri was simply to finish, but I knew that I hadn’t trained nearly to my ability. I was determined to run, bike, and swim faster this time.
After a couple of setbacks with my ankle, I ended up physical therapy. While strengthening my ankle and legs, I signed up for some running races. I started a walk/run program, and began scouring the internet for advice. I happened to stumble upon www.runblogger.com , a blog by fellow New Hampshire resident Peter Larson. His blog introduced me to the online running community, with blogs and social networking among other things. I was inspired to join the Daily Mile, where I have made online running friends who all have a journey to share. The ability to share stories, to motivate and be motivated, and to celebrate successes has been invaluable to me. When I am stressed out and want to deal by doing nothing, I find that being a part of the community has been extremely powerful in motivating me to make the right choices.
So here I am, in the blogoverse, sharing my journey. I am at a different point in my journey than most of my online friends, but I am thankful for the opportunity to share it as an outlet for my feelings and to instill some accountability the process. I hope someday that my journey might someday help someone else who is starting out on his or her journey to a healthier life.
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