Running Log: Week 1

I am so happy to report that I was successfully able to make it through my first full week of training! Woohoo! Last week, starting Monday, I trained for 6 days straight - something I haven't been able to do since December 2013. I got in a long run of 50 min - also something I haven't done since last December. And, I got in some tempo intervals of 6x800m.

The big takeaway for me at this point is that I was able to get through the training without feeling completely exhausted afterwards. In late October, 5 months after my thyroidectomy and working with my doctors to adjust my Synthroid dose to meet my needs, I finally felt I came out of the woods and could handle life's demands and training again.

The biggest challenge last week, and I'll admit a bit unexpected, was that I wasn't as good about putting the time and focus into the training process that used to be my hallmark. It was as if I had gotten used to giving excuses about not feeling well or being tired or not having a set goal or reason to focus, so I was more lax about everything - which meant that getting in those 6 runs wasn't as easy as I expected it would be.

But now, as I am in the midst of week two, I notice that I am getting my edge back. I still need to work a lot on making time to stretch as much as I need to, to put in the strength work that will pay off in the long run, and to regain my more disciplined nutrition habits, though. But I am confident that as each week builds and I feel stronger, my competitive edge will start clawing at my door again, I'll be able to put the pieces of the complex puzzle of training at a high level together. I'm excited about what my future holds and where this attempt at a "comeback" will take me!

Bring it on Week 2!!

Good Luck Bad Luck

This is a Taoist story I've been sharing with dear friends for years ever since I first came across it.

There is a Chinese story of a farmer who used an old horse to till his fields. One day, the horse escaped into the hills and when the farmer's neighbors sympathized with the old man over his bad luck, the farmer replied, "Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?" A week later, the horse returned with a herd of horses from the hills and this time the neighbors congratulated the farmer on his good luck. His reply was, "Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?"

Then, when the farmer's son was attempting to tame one of the wild horses, he fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone thought this very bad luck. Not the farmer, whose only reaction was, "Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?"
Some weeks later, the army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied youth they found there. When they saw the farmer's son with his broken leg, they let him off. Now was that good luck or bad luck?

Who knows?

And now it is time to put the preachin' to the test.

Exactly two weeks after surgery just as the last steri-strip bandages are peeling away from my skin and I'm excited to be adjusting to my fabulous new "tattoo," I find out the pathology report from the material excised from my throat. And it's a bit of "curveball", as Dr. Holsinger so delicately put it! Although the two biopsies I had done had come back clear (there were smaller nodules that can not be biopsied if they are under 1cm), it turns out that I did have papillary thyroid cancer (PTC) which actually had metastasized to a lymph node. Yea, I would definitely call that a curveball.

Needless to say it was unexpected. A shocker. Ok, and honestly, a tearjerker. But then conversations were had, I took some courses at Google "university" and a couple of days have passed to let it sink in. The good news is that at my YOUNG age (that always feels good) and my good health and as early as it is with such a small amount of cancer cells around, it is something that is treatable without major cause for cause for concern. The treatment seems pretty straight forward - swallow a radioactive iodine pill and let it do it's thing killing off the unwanted intruders and with minimal side effects - and I'll have to monitor it for the rest of my life with blood tests but hey things could be worse.

And here is Perspective again biting me in my arse...for all the stress and frustration and emotional angst I experienced trying to make it to the Olympics and running that race that felt like the worst thing ever, what do you think I would prefer to experience again? 

Perspective: Part 2

So here I am. Now what? Well, Perspective, that's what.

I am so blessed for this entire ordeal. I know it sounds hokey or at the least a good public service announcement but it's true. Sure, would it have been awesome to never have had this issue in the first place? Yea. While I'm at it why don't I turn the clock back to 2010 before the hamstring tendinopathy kicked in? Or even better still, 2008 when I tore my plantar fasciitis in the steeplechase instead of qualifying for the Beijing Olympics? Yea, of course that could have been the path I walked but it isn't. The other paths that I didn't walk, though, also include never having been to the Olympics at all, having a terminal illness instead of this "elective" surgery, or not having the amazing support network of family and friends that I do.

Starting to see it? That's Perspective. I would like to get back to running competitively and even go after the qualifying standard for Rio 2016. But you know what, when this started (before the myopathy) I used to look at the girls I used to race against and think, "Darn, why can't I be competing? This sucks!" Then, as time went on and I stopped running, I would look at the overweight person trotting along the street trying to stick to a healthy training regimen and think, "Wow, good for him! I hope, I can go running one day (that's right just regular, ol' go-out-for-a-run-because-it-just-feels-good running)." Over these months I've gained perspective.

When I first flew to Houston to see Dr. Brown it mattered to me that he was an athlete specialist - and it still does of course. But as the months progressed and I was showing up in hospitals regularly for tests, I would see people much sicker than I and with much more serious issues to consider than "can I make it to the next Olympics". That's perspective.

I really want to stress and point out that I don't feel bad at all about looking inward and getting caught up in the bubble that surrounds me that is my life. My issues are important to me and that matters. I don't have to cure world hunger to feel important. I don't have to feel ashamed for looking inward and crying when things don't go my way or I can't run. I don't have to excuse my ego, my vanity, or my obsessions.

This perspective thing is just a way that helps me cope with challenges better. It helps me to realize that on the road to pursuing your dreams there are going to be setbacks. Things won't always go your way and, for better or worse, they might not go your way at all.  You still put you head down (βάζεις το κεφάλι κάτω) and work your tail off pursuing your goals...but every so often it is good to look up and realize that there is more to life.

This time away from running gave me the chance to spend even more quality time with my family and to build on the great relationship I have with my nephews. I even got a job as office manager for a great startup, PopWi, and I am busy sharpening my dormant office skills. I realize that there is more to enjoy in life than just running, but don't get me wrong...I'm hitting the roads with my running shoes June 12 and if I only make it 1mile that will be my first mile on the road to Rio!

Perspective: Part 1

I know it has been nearly two years since I've written and a lot has happened over that time. I wish I could say that I've been basking in the post-Olympic glow but unfortunately that hasn't been the case. I'm actually drafting this blog entry up with a bit of post-surgery glow (thank you morphine)! I just had a total thyroidectomy and am recovering but the path to today has been a challenge for me so I'll rewind just a bit.

After the Olympics, I took time off to recover physically and psychologically. Fortunately, my desire and drive came back after a bit and I started running and enjoying it again. But it didn't take long for me to notice that I wasn't quite myself. I thought perhaps I was still burnt out so I trained at more moderate intensities and volume to let my body ease into things. Things would look up and I would have great training sessions and then, inevitably, I would go on runs that felt like I was running through lava. Of course, I didn't think to look into to a broader reason than I was probably washed up, too old, or just unmotivated. In July 2013, things came to a head when upon my return to Athens after a great training camp in Karpenisi my legs start burning. Literally feeling like they are getting cooked from the inside out! Well, that led me to seriously look into what I thought was just a borderline hyperthyroidism that first gave me heart palpitations and other symptoms in 2011. Overtime things worsened and a myopathic condition developed that has prevented me from running for the past 5 months.

After a series of blood tests, ultrasounds, biopsies, and  a radioactive scan over the course of the last 10 months, here I am recovering at Stanford Hospital having gotten rid of a multinodular goiter and a "hot" nodule (no I didn't look like a supermodel while I had it).

Before I move on, I have to send many, many thanks to many, many people and not in order of appearance. First, I would like to say thank you to my surgeon, Dr. Holsinger, and really every last person I've come into contact with at Stanford Hospital & Clinics, for treating me like royalty from my very first office visit just last week (although I am sure everyone is privy to the customer service fit for a queen). The wound is still fresh but I can talk (vocal cords can sometimes be affected) and I can still move my muscles (parathyroid glands responsible for regulating your calcium levels also require quite a bit of finesse) so the surgery was definitely a success! Thank you to Adrianna El Calamawy (Stanford) and Dr. Weiss (The Village Doctor, Woodside) for all of your time and efforts in making this happen in record time. Thank you to Dr. Jeffrey Brown in Houston, my endocrinologist who spearheaded the effort in diagnosing the problem and was always available for me even two time zones a part! And to my family who is always by my side and my nephews who make me see the world through the eyes of children - which we should all do every so often.

I notice that this entry is already quite long (I'm going to blame it on the morphine) so please read Perspective: Part 2 when you have time and desire to find out what I learned from all this.