The Dime

Yesterday, while I was picking up my xrays, I noticed a table in the lobby with home baked goods displayed.  As I was walking out, a young woman at the table quietly said, "Do you want to donate to the March of Dimes?"  I was in a hurry and didn't have time to stop.  A few steps out the door, I replayed in my mind what she actually had said, "Do you want to donate a DIME to the March of Dimes?"

Still in a hurry, I didn't take the few seconds to turn around and donate. I had felt it was too late, almost embarrassing to turn around and say, "Dime?  That is all you need? Well,  I have one or two of those."

I let my feelings go and quickly got into my car and drove to my next stop, the high school.  I mean, don't we all donate to so many worthy causes. I simply can't donate to everyone, everytime, can I?

Into the school I went, forgetting about the earlier thoughts, moving on to my next appointment.  I ran into a friend in the lobby of the school and we began chatting.  As we walked out of the school together, stepping off the sidewalk, onto the curb, I saw something on the pavement, a dime.  One small dime, lay there on the ground.

I stopped to pick it up.  My mind quickly racing back to the young girl sitting at the table, raising money for such a wonderful cause.  Was she born premature? Did she know someone close to her heart that was suffering?  Why didn't I take the time to give?  Whether I gave one simple dime, or many more, it didn't matter.  What mattered was that I was willing to give and actually gave.

The day moved by even quicker, rushing to my doctor appointment, hustling back for my piano students and welcoming my own five children home from their day at school.  After the last student left, I walked into my kitchen to begin preparing dinner and there on an entirely clean counter (that is a miracle in itself), I saw a lone dime, sitting there, reminding me once again about giving.

Today I made a special trip back to the hospital lobby where I saw that little display of goodies and that young lady, raising money for a cause so dear...and donated. 

I kept the two dimes as a constant reminder of the need for all of us to give...

If you would like to give, here are causes close to my heart:

NBIA Disorders

In honor of Brittany Leap (I ran Boston for her last year, raising over $5000!)

Send a check to
Sandy and Rich Leap
14852 Ashby Oak Ct. Haymarket, VA 20169 (Brittany's Mother and Father).



In honor of BethAnn Telford

Team BT (my dear super hero friend BethAnn...a survivor...who will be running her third Boston)
Raising money for the National Brain Tumor Society

Click here to donate



In honor of Vanessa Spiller (who is a breast cancer survivor and is running her first Boston)

Life with Cancer

Click here to donate



In honor of Linda Tennille (a breast cancer survivor and running her 2nd Boston)

Dana-Farber Cancer Institute

Click here to donate



It is always good to give.

Just Keep Swimming....

I was in the pool today doing what I dislike to do...yep, swimming. 

I mean, who really wants to done a swimsuit, put on a really funny looking swim cap, and to further the stylish look, throw on some goggles (which are goofy enough while swimming... but do I need the ugly rings they leave under my eyes hours afterward too?!).

Not me. 

And then, there is the whole workout part.  After jumping into the frigid waters (at least it feels that way), I actually have to start swimming.  There is nothing to see except mysterious unknown "thangs" floating around the bottom of the pool. There is nothing to hear except my own heavy breathing waiting desperately for me to to take another breath (oh yea, and the lady with the shrill voice leading the aerobics class...gee whiz..."shush it a little," woman).  There is nothing to do except swim down and back and then down and back again...followed by more down and more back.  There is  no one to talk to either.  I mean, you aren't working out if you are talking.

The time moves slower when I am swimming. After what seems like at least a 45 minute workout, I check the clock, only to find out 5 minutes have passed!  Seriously?! 

Today during my workout, thoughts of the Boston Marathon kept creeping into my mind, almost teasing me.  It wandered me back to the memories of races gone by, races I have loved.  Could I actually have a chance to run?  What will the doctor say?  Will he demand bed rest?  Little activity?  Or will he tell me all is well?  Will he say there is no danger?  Do I pack my running shoes or do I pack my pom poms?!

The words that kept coming to my mind, over and over again, today in the water were from the sweet movie, "Finding Nemo." Remember Dory?  Oh yes, the optimistic, Dory, who during a difficult time in her new friend's little fishy life, reminded him to keep a positive attitude.  Her words were clear, telling him, to never give up, repeating the words, "Just keep swimming." And although he may have seemed "grumpy" with her sentiment, in the end, we know the outcome.  He never gave up...and he found his son,Nemo.

I thought of those simple words, "Just keep swimming," as I was bored to death in the water. And it kept me swimming, enabling me to finish my entire workout.  I thought of those words, last week, moments after I fell off that blasted horse, dashing my marathon plans, telling myself, "Just keep positive."  I thought of those words, while laying in bed with an ice pack lodged strategically on my broken behind, wondering how long this little hiccup in life would continue.  And I repeated in my mind, "Just keep hopeful."  I thought of those words, moments before I entered my doctor's office today, Xrays in hand, not knowing what his advice would be for healing.  And I said, "Just keep believing."

In all of our lives, we will find ourselves stopped in our tracks. Our plans changed without our permission and without warning.  We will only have power over one thing.

Our choice to...

...just keep swimming.

I will keep swimming. I will keep being positive. I will keep being hopeful. I will keep believing.

And if I am able to run Boston, I will.  If I cannot, I will...

...just keep swimming.

The doctor told me today my broken sacrum was fine and not in any harm of further damage.  If I chose to run, it may hurt like the dickens, but it would not "break further" or cause any harm to my back.  With that said, my plan is to take along my running shoes. On Sunday, I will take a little jog and see if I have any pain. If I am pain free, I will run the race on Monday...full of gratitude.

Down with Downton Abbey

I am truly surprised at how much pain this sacrum break is causing me.  Not only has it been a physical pain (a constant dull ache) but quite some mental anguish as well. 

On Saturday I had me a little pity party, complete with plenty chocolate, a trip to Cafe Rio, followed by even more chocolate!  One moment I was fine with the idea of not running Boston (or running at all for that matter) and taking on the role of being a cheerleader for my dear friends but then my mind would wander back to the dark side and I realized I wouldn't be a running the coveted race.

Sunday I was able to attend the first hour of church before the pain of sitting was too much.  I realized I may need to get me a "donut" per the doctor's request but somehow that seemed a bit, can I say, ridiculous. It is almost as silly as one of those cones dogs have to wear. But as crazy as it may be, I am thinking its purpose of relieving stress and alleviating pain will rule out my pride. Will I really need to carry it around with me from place to place?  Let's hope not.

After leaving church early, I came home, wanting to start up another pity party for myself.  Lying in bed for awhile, thinking over (yet again) my inability to run, I realized it was time to STOP.

I thought, "I have been stopped. It is what it is. Why not take this time to smell me some roses!?" 

It was time to stop, moping around and feeling sorry for myself.  I mean seriously, it is not like I won't or can't run again! 

It was time to let one of the other 6 people in our home, cook, clean-up, help out...

It was time to finally watch the show...Downton Abbey!  That is a rose I have been dying to see, touch and smell!

And boy howdy did we ever watch it!  Sommer and I grabbed our pillows and snuggly blankets and hunkered down for an afternoon (make that afternoon and evening) Downton Abbey Marathon!

We absolutely loved every minute of it!  My mind was whisked away to another time, where characters let you forget your woes, in fact, their problems become yours. We laughed, we were shocked, we cheered, we booed...

WE WERE HOOKED!

Life has brought me snag, but snag is all it is! I have no plans on pulling at it or making it a bigger problem.  I will simply snip it off and get on with it (not saying I won't have another pity party or two). 

Now one to season 2...a place I am totally down with.

Wishful Thinking...New Thinking...

Deep down I knew it...I am injured.  I mean, I am one tough cookie but after that "little" run today and the "lotta" pain, I knew it was time to visit the doctor.

After I was relieved the doctor DID NOT examine my crack, he did suggest I get an xray.  I figured I should rule out a crack in my crack so at least I knew what I was up against with running 26.2 miles.  Was I simply bruised or was I broken?!  Marathoners know that even if you don't have an injury, running a marathon hurts...bad.

The doctor called me so quickly after my appointment at the hospital, I knew it wasn't good news.

I have a non-displaced break in my sacrum. A broken sacrum is when there is a fracture in the sacrum which is a large, triangular bone at the base of the spine and at the upper and back part of the pelvic cavity, where it is inserted like a wedge between the two hip bones. Its upper part connects with the last lumbar vertebra, and bottom part with the coccyx (tailbone). The good news, it is non-displaced meaning there are no bone parts that will affect nerves, etc.  Bad news, it is part of my spine and more than a hair line fracture...much more dangerous when one wants to go and run a marathon.




He is sending me to an orthopedic doctor next week to rule out or rule in the marathon idea.  But in reality, there is no way I could run with this kind of pain. So unless, a miracle happens, I am thinking this Boston is a Bye-Bye.

But now I must deal with the pain of months of training, slowly making its way down the drain.  I spent so many hours running my heart out in wind, cold, heat, and rain.  And with a body ready to rock a marathon, I am sadly left with the possibility of not being able to run the race.

Forced to quit before I even begin...

Like my cancer survivor friends, who were each dealt their own blow with stopping "life" while "life" went on ahead, I feel sad, mad, and okay with it all.

I cheer them. I cheer me.

Ever grateful I didn't permanently injure my back, in life, Everything Happens. It just does.  And what you  decide to do next is what really matters.

 

No Funny, When No Runny

Being the obsessed working out person that I am, I felt two days off from running was MORE than enough to heal my rear end. The pain had subsided quite a bit, I had iced, taken plenty of Aleve and refrained from running.

So this morning I decided it was time to see how running would feel.  I met up with Vanessa and Linda at the Battlefield for an easy 5 miles.  Wishful thinking turned into immediate pain as I ran a mere half mile, no make that waddled slowly along, before I knew this wasn't going to work. I sent them off to finish their run (jealous) and I walked back to the car, my tail between my legs, wondering what the heck I was going to do.

I mean, there is no way I can reach out to my friends, the community and say, "Hey! Is there anyone out there who broke their butt 11 days before a marathon?! And if so, were you able to run it pain free?"

Nope. Most people that have broken their tailbone (or bruised it) aren't planning on running 26.2 miles a few days later.

I trained! I ran so many miles to get ready for this blasted race.  I have no one to blame (not even the horse) but myself.

But, I am not giving up hope yet. I have made an appointment with my doctor today to see what he thinks. Who knows, maybe he has broken his butt and ran....

I figure I need to find out if I did indeed break the thing and go from there. The good news is that it doesn't really impede my daily activities (unless you count running as one of those...which it is). It is just the "running" that is the issue.

It really isn't funny...when there is no runny.

My Boston Running Outfit...HELP ME DECIDE!

The Boston Marathon is in less than two weeks...11 days to be exact!

I need some help picking out my running outfit for the Boston Marathon.  Two items I must wear, the pink shirt (on the back it says, "I run for...Survivors!" Three of my friends running with me are just that...SURVIVORS of both breast and brain cancer!) and the obnoxious yellow shoes.  I have three choices. Let me share a little about each one:

1. Number one is a lovely pair of black capris matched with striped black and white arm sleeves.

 2. This outfit boasts a blue running skirt with a yellow Nike Swoosh. A yellow shirt ties the bright shoes to the outfit bringing all colors together in a bright statement, "Here I come!"

3.  This outfit includes arm sleeves with bright butterflies and adds a blue and white striped patterned skirt with a pink band.

I am also in love with these two skirts:

and

Both would be totally cute with the pink shirt and yellow shoes!!

I can mix and I can match!  Any suggestions, ideas or votes?! It also depends on the Boston's weather the day of the race. My last three races have been tank and short temps (with arm sleeves and light gloves). But you NEVER know with Boston...it could be snowing (oh please no!).

What do YOU think?!

BTW....my bum still hurts (haven't tried running yet)!

King Tutt Broke My Butt

King Tutt (horse pictured above), is a sweet natured fellow, who is patient and understanding of complete idiots, like me, that hop on his back in an attempt to "ride a horse."  His owner, my friend Ginger, was kind enough to give me a little horse knowledge, from feeding to boarding and brushing to riding.  After spending some time with the horses, we saddled up King Tutt and I hopped aboard.

After a few minutes of walking around the paddock, we started a little trot. Having a swell time, the trotting continued until...

I felt the saddle shift to the side of the horse. Being a novice, and in a whirlwind of events, I toppled to the ground, falling 3 or 4 feet directly onto my butt. As I lay there looking up at the horses (I think they were actually snickering) and my worried friend, my first thought was, "Oh no, will I be able to run my marathon in less than two weeks!?"  Severe pain invaded my behind and I was grateful my back was completely pain free. But I couldn't shake the fear that I may not be able to run! After a few minutes, I was able to get up and waddle back to the stable.  Ginger was worried but I reassured her that I was totally fine, just had bruised my behind.

After carrying a brave face for my teacher and little boys (thankfully they didn't see their doofus mom fall), I made my way home...in pain, shedding only a few tears.

I quickly popped some Advil, grabbed an ice pack and attempted to find a comfortable position in bed.  I hit the web, looking for information on broken tailbones and what should be done if one had such a lovely problem.

I quickly found out, that a trip to the ER wasn't necessary.  Ice, rest and Advil was the best remedy for an injury like mine.

So after attempting to "thrill" up my boring week, I actually made it worse, finding myself stuck in bed, now in pain, watching a month's worth of Celebrity Apprentice and wondering if I will be able to run tomorrow.

So the results are in, I don't like horses (not sure if they like me...most likely they think I am a complete idiot).

Yee Haw!