Melancholy Monday: Me

I've realized that I don't just write directly about myself very often.  I write about things I do and about my kid and my dogs and my husband and other things, but I don't write just about me.  As in, "Hey there!!  How ya doin, kid??"  And then I'd answer. 

Probably because I don't *like* to answer that question.  My default answer would be, "I'm okay."  And that makes for a pretty boring blog entry.

I've debated since last Thursday as to whether I'd even write this entry.  And then as I was lying awake last night, a very profound and important answer came to me...."Whatever."

Yes, you read that right.  I said, "Whatever."  That was it.  I asked myself a question and the answer I received back was, "Whatever."  And at 3:30am, it seemed very profound.

So apparently I'm okay with writing about this now.

I supposed I just needed 3 or 4 days to process everything. 

And it is highly likely that I'm making this a bigger deal than it is.  Which is, in turn, probably why I've typed 2 dozen sentences and y'all don't even know what I'm talking about yet.

Last Thursday I had my annual doctor visit with my women's health doctor.  No, not JUST the lady doctor...she does way more than that.  She is by far the best and most attentive doctor I've ever had. 

To catch you up, there are a few things you should know.  I have a rash all over my whole body.  I've written about this before, but not to a great degree.  It started about a week after I began running (which is why it's always been attributed to sweat/heat).  It doesn't itch.  It doesn't burn.  It was sort of misdiagnosed by a nurse practitioner as either heat or sweat (prickly heat) rash.  I'd been applying hydrocortisone cream and water-based lotion to no avail.  The stupid rash kept spreading and was getting WAY worse. 

When the assistant at the doctor's office took my blood pressure and asked me a jillion questions that didn't even really seem to pertain to my health, she also asked me if I had any additional questions/concerns for the doctor.  And I mentioned the rash.  The doctor was going to see it anyway.

She looked at it and was immediately afraid to touch me after that.  Good grief.  Anyhoo, she said she'd write it down...and write it down she did.

So the doc comes in and asks me immediately, "So what is this rash??"  I showed her and she actually became concerned.  I then told her the story that I wrote above.  She looked up a few things in a book and said, "Have you been dealing with a great deal of stress or anxiety?"  Huh.

I referenced the fact that I was trying to run 13 miles.  She laughed.  "Oh you...you can't train from nothing to run 13 miles in only 5 months.  Really."  And then she asked me 20 other questions like if I'd changed my laundry detergent or body soap.  Nope.  Haven't changed a thing.

So then she says, "Why are you shaking your foot? Are you nervous about being here?  I don't remember you ever being nervous here."  I was NOT, in fact, nervous.  I LOVE my doctor and I have never been afraid of doctors.  Not even "that doctor." 

She then said, "You're also picking at your fingernails."  That didn't surprise me.  If you know me, you know that I was an avid nail biter until around 4 years ago.  Now I occasionally just pick at my cuticles.  Classy, I know.

Then we talk about the running a little more and, seemingly out of the blue, she says, "I'm going to go get an anxiety questionaire.  I think that's a good place to start."  Oh dear.

She asked me loads of questions.  She then asked, "Have you lost a loved one?  Someone close to you?"  I replied with, "I lost my best friend.  My dog Morgan."

HOLY SHIT!!!  Where the hell did that come from??  I didn't even tell myself to say that.  Seriously.  And then I started crying right there in the room with the doctor watching me and telling me that it would be okay.  Geez. 

I was pretty sure that I had turned a corner last month sometime.  Apparently I turned right when I should've turned left.

I really didn't know that that situation was still bothering me that much. 

She then may or may not have mentioned to me that I had talked about running like it was a job and not a hobby or goal.  Ugh.  And that I was kidding myself if I thought I'd be able to run the entire mini.  While deep down I know she's right, it's really difficult to HEAR things like that.

I told her that I'd had a couple of bad days here and there, but overall I thought I was okay.  She asked me to explain my worst day.  After talking about that day, she said, "You know, it sounds like you were on the edge of a panic attack."  Woah.

She then diagnosed my rash as something that was 5 words long, had only 2 vowels, and was almost unable to be pronounced.  And she said, "This rash, like most, is HIGHLY exacerbated by stress and anxiety.  I've not seen it to this degree."  Oh.

So she took some blood, or a LOT of it, and told me she'd also test me for a battery of things in case the anxiety and rash were part of a bigger problem.  After 9 tubes, I got a little antsy.  What was she testing me for??

I never did get a straight answer on that as the phlebotomist wasn't at liberty to answer my questions.  My doctor just kept telling me, "When I see you again in 3 months, you'll be a brand new person.  I just KNOW it!!"

Two prescriptions for the rash and an anxiety med that I can take only if I feel I need it.  I'm okay with all of that.

I've never had problems with stress or anxiety to the degree that a doctor noticed.  My doctor also did not pressure me to take anti-depressants or anxiety meds.  She said it was only one of many options and gave me the run-down on what she thought would help.  First and foremost...I should reduce the amount of self-imposed stress. 

I struggled with that a first, as it basically means that I have to stop with running goals that are, at this time, out of my reach.  I've since re-evaluated my life, my limits (time and physical) and my sanity.  They're all sort of in the crapper right now.  So a re-evaluation was needed. 

My life right now will NOT allow me to train hard enough to run the bulk of the mini.  I have a family and a job and shit to do.  Seriously.  My time limits are being tested on a daily basis as I struggle with making time to go to the gym or run outside.  My physical limits are being tested on account of the fact that I went from pretty much NO exercised to a WHOLE BUNCH of it.  My right knee is currently in a compression brace to stop the ache.  And these days it seems that I LIVE on the edge of sanity.  Which means insanity is right over the line I'm toeing. 

I can't keep up with myself.  It's so much more than frustrating that I can't even put it into words. 

I NEVER want running to become a chore.  I LOVE it and I want to continue doing it for a LOT of years.  I want to run mini-marathons and 5Ks and such and have fun.  And be healthy.  I don't want to be a ball of anxiety that forces herself to go to the gym for the sake of being there.  That's not how I do. 

Where does this leave me?

No more running stress.  More realistic goals.  Less worrying if I don't exactly reach those goals. 

I've now committed myself to 3 training days a week.  I'll do 2 weekdays and one weekend day.  I'll do short runs on the weekdays and a long run on the weekend.  That's what I can do at this point.  Time with my growing child who will NOT be a toddler forever is WAY more important to me than a stupid race.

My short(er) term goal is to run 6.5 miles of the mini.  That's around half.  If I do that all at once...awesome.  If I do 2 or 3 shorter runs...awesome. 

Long term goal?  What is THAT???  :)  Long term goal is to run the 2012 mini and....run THE WHOLE THING.  Seriously.  Y'all just watch. 

In regards to Morgan...time.  And hugs.  If you see me, it's highly likely that I'll need a hug.  If I cry, don't feel bad.  I'm just crying tears of joy that I have good friends and family who allow me to be crazy but then help bring me back to earth.  And don't judge me the whole time. :)

I love you all.