Ultra is What I Do Best

Unlike the other day when I took the picture of my guardian squirrel, right now it's snowing outside the woman cave as I write this. Not very motivating weather. I am proud to say I have run for three days in a row now. Haven't been out to run yet today and this blogpost is just another procrastination strategy. I really do need to get out there. I hate to interrupt my streak...

I've been working on talking with people, social media, spreading the word, putting some finishing touches on the website for the big launch of Cancer Harbors on Monday.

I was interviewed on a podcast, this time about nursing, listen if you're interested. It's been nearly two and a half years since I left the hospital and a lot has happened and I've come a long way. Every day is still full of learning and uncertainty, but I keep pushing ahead. It's an ultra, and ultra is what I do best.

Last night I ran with Wheaties Boy again and we talked marketing strategy. He put my mind somewhat more at ease with some things I've struggled with. It was raining and he was in shorts, I was bundled up in winter clothes. Now it's snowing but not sticking to the ground. Spring in Colorado is always interesting.

If I can somehow get brave enough to go in the house, change into running clothes, and get out, even for a half hour, I will feel so good. I should get my butt out of the vortex and go!

Turbulence and Challenge

After a pathetic week with the snow and cold, I finally got out and ran an easy five mile run with Emma on Sunday. We did Bingham Hill, which gave it a little challenge. I didn't feel bad at all running up the steep side and we talked the whole way.

Yesterday I got a good ten miles in on my feet, about seven of those were running. I'm running with Wheaties Boy tonight. It's warm again but windy today. There were whitecaps on the lake when I went out to do a therapeutic walk late this morning.

Now I'm tapping my feet at the desk. It's the calm before the storm. Tomorrow I meet with the marketing firm to plan the last steps before we launch my new service, Cancer Harbors. I'm nervous with anticipation. I don't expect miracles to happen and certainly not overnight success. It's going to be a process, much like an ultra, with ups and downs, good and bad patches, without a finish line on the horizon.

I'm troubled by something I learned yesterday, about one of the runners I've admired for many years, he's in his 80s, and just got some bad medical news. Cancer is something I am around all the time. I hate what this disease does to people, and I like that I am able to intervene in some ways and make things somewhat smoother, even if I can't fix any of it. There's been enough cancer in my family, and around me, in addition to my work and my clients, that it is something I've become used to, but not in a way of losing empathy or numbness.

I do know that burnout is something I will have to avoid, it is always a possibility when you're in healthcare and working with people who have intense needs. There's a certain distance you become able to maintain, but not enough that you can't emotionally grasp what they are experiencing. I don't know how to describe it. The ability to do that must be somewhat of a necessity if you're going to work in this field. You also need to be able to give something back to yourself, to refill your own tank.

Right now in addition to my dad's recent treatment and tentative remission, and the fact that a young person close to our family is in a hospital being prepped for a second bone marrow transplant after a leukemia relapse, and doing all I can to support my stepmom and others through coping with my dad's health problems, and my daily work which involves caring for people going through various phases of treatment or after treatment, it seems like I've been going along doing pretty well.

And then this news yesterday hit me. I was trying to figure out why it bothered me so much. He's lived a long active healthy and fun life. He expresses gratitude for all he's been able to do and experience in his time. It makes me mad that he has to deal with this, but then I know that cancer bully doesn't care, it picks on anyone and for no particular reason.

Those who think that by being a runner, eating healthy food and living a low stress lifestyle they can avoid cancer are just fooling themselves. There are other reasons to take care of yourself, of course, but if you're going to develop cancer, you're going to. At least until the day when we figure out whatever goes on inside our bodies molecularly and genetically to get cancer started and stop it.

Maybe it's because lately I wonder about my own existence, I've been working so hard on Cancer Harbors that I have foregone running, ultras, adventures, traveling, and having the money to do it. I've always felt that if I died tomorrow I would not regret it, I feel like I have packed a lot of living and fun into 52 years. If I'm taking up space on the planet, I need to be contributing something, and by coloring outside the lines and being disruptive and vocal, not following the beaten path, I am.

Recently I've been missing something, and maybe it is the accumulation of the caregiving role combined with the lack of spiritual outlet that running ultradistances gives me. Maybe it's working alone, without coworkers or people to talk to for most of the day, not even having the counsel of Iris and Isabelle anymore, in all of their superior wisdom. I don't know what independent health care providers do to take care of themselves, to cope with the emotional burden of the work they do. I have probably two dozen people I could reach out to, but they're all too far away for face-to-face conversation, in the flesh.

There's also the nagging thought that rarely surfaces but is back there somewhere, with my crazy family history of leukemia and other cancers, and who knows if they are hereditary or just random, that something could be waiting for me up ahead, and I want to be able to face it if I need to, with no regrets. So maybe what I really need to do is start running long again, just getting out on the trails around here more often, being outside and experiencing as much as I can while my resources are limited. Being outdoors always has been my solace. I need to find a way to challenge myself regularly again.

Climbing fences and trees with a corncob in your mouth adds an element of challenge.

Yesterday my friend Marissa saved the day for me, she is putting on another run like the Equinox run we did last spring in Arvada. This time it will be over Labor Day weekend. It will be an early fall equinox event, called "There Goes The Sun". That gives me a little over five months to get ready to spend 12 hours on my feet. I needed that much more than I realized. I'm going.

The Big Launch

I have to admit, I have experienced somewhat of a backslide the past week. It didn't help that we woke up to 6 inches of fresh snow the other day with temperatures in the 30s and a stiff wind to cool things down further. It also didn't help that I am up to my eyeballs in work trying to get ready for the launch of my new website and online service April 4-8.

By the way, you are all invited to join my online open house that goes April 4-8. On Twitter @cancerharbors and you can ask questions using the hashtag #cancerharbors or visit the new website which goes live April 4th, or visit my Facebook page called Cancer Harbors (and "like" it, too, if you do, please!)

This past Tuesday I ran with Wheaties Boy, 7 miles, which just about killed me, but was so good for me, too. And after that I have not run. I have been in stuck in the butt vortex again!

It's okay, I do need to put an unusual number of hours in the office right now, getting all the last minute arrangements set. I will get back to it and Emma and I are going running tomorrow morning. We are supposed to see temperatures in the 70s again by early next week.

Here is what my desk looked like today. Spent all day Saturday in here. And the picture below is of Dennis looking at the Cancer Harbors modules on the iPad.

I have been missing the girls something awful this week, too. I go in phases where I do okay and then something hits me and I miss them. I thought I heard Isabelle flapping her ears, then realized it was the dishwasher. Someone I know has a new litter of Australian Shepherd puppies and keeps posting pictures of the on Facebook and it's killing me. Those puppies are so cute, and I want one, but we're not ready and I know it.

In other news, my butt is just about healed up except for the one deep puncture, that still itches and scabs over. And there was some excitement in my former hometown of Fountain Hills, Arizona today where there was a Donald Trump rally and my old buddy Sheriff Joe Arpaio used the opportunity to get some attention of his own. Never have I been so glad to be gone from that place!

I heard the protesters tried to block Shea Boulevard with their cars. I was afraid there would be violence, because if anyone incites it besides Trump, it's Sheriff Joe. And those people in Fountain Hills love their guns. But as far as I've heard, it wasn't too rowdy. Sheriff Joe is 83 and says he's running for a seventh term. Just more evidence that Arizona has a serious racism problem.

Maybe we should build a wall around Fountain Hills while Sheriff Joe, Trump, and all the Trump supporters are in one place, and make Trump pay for it! But then Sheriff Joe and his black helicopter squadron would probably rescue Trump from the air and take him to the casino on the reservation just outside of town, and they'd put TRUMP in big gold letters on it so that would be the only thing you could see for miles in the desert. And that would suck.

Those are my thoughts for the day after spending 11 hours out here in my office in the cave. I think I need a beer and to go to bed.

Tomorrow is another day. I promise I will run again and get out of the butt vortex.

Tramp Stamp

Life goes on. I hit the big 52 on Thursday. I took the day off and went to Boulder, as I often do on my birthday. I don't know why, maybe I feel like I have to go down there and remind myself that I'm glad I live in Fort Collins? I stopped at Union Reservoir in Longmont to take a picture of Longs Peak reflected in the water. Soon it will be time to get back up there on the trails.

I ran several days this week and felt pretty good. I'm not accumulating very many miles. The motivation has been off and on. Once I get a schedule in place, it will help. Just another couple of weeks and I will have that in place, too.

The weather has been so nice, we are finally getting a few 70 degree days. We did some yard work and cleaned up the front garden. It's too early to plant anything as we will get at least one more major snowstorm and many hard frosts before we're safe to plant outside. It's supposed to snow this week. That's a good thing, we need some moisture. It's been so dry since the last snowstorm.

My butt is healing. It finally stopped itching over the last day or two. Honey Boo Boo has a sign hung on her gate to her backyard that says "Dangerous Dog". I am sure the people who own the house love it. Maybe she should have thought of that before she let her dogs run wild.

Nice pic of my 1/2 smiley face tramp stamp surrounded by rash and adhesive-trashed skin. You can see two of the punctures and then the deep canine puncture tunnel makes up the half smile. It's healed up really well. I looked at my jeans and I can see why the one puncture on the right went so deep- the front teeth caught me through the pocket of my jeans, the canine was in the area where it was only a single layer of fabric. I'm lucky I was wearing jeans and not running shorts or tights.

I saw Wheaties Boy today. He's been injured, struggling to come back. We made a pact to start running together on Tuesday nights now that we're on daylight savings time again and we have the light in the evenings. Hopefully this will be the thing that pushes me past the edge of trying to motivate myself. I've been doing pretty well but since the bite I haven't been as motivated.

I launch my new online service, Cancer Harbors, the week of April 4-8. The website will be launched that week. For now it's still the temporary landing page. I'm going to do an online open house, using Twitter, Facebook, the website, email, and other social media.

I'm excited, scared, nervous, relieved, and all kinds of emotions about it. I can't wait to make the switch to marketing though, I have had enough of sitting on my butt for a while!

The Pre-Nurses' Week Cancer Rant

Yesterday I had lunch with Wheaties Boy's mother-in-law, Faustine. I admire this woman in so many ways. We have a lot of interests in common, obviously health and fitness, but also cancer and healing. She has been a massage therapist for years, doing medical massage and has worked with many people with cancer.  She is also the epitome of vibrant and healthy aging. And gorgeous, she literally glows. 

We talked about my business ideas and where I'm moving with my online service development. We discussed the important components of empowering people to improve their own well-being after diagnosis and treatment for a serious illness, and moving beyond the sticking points. One of the things that I'm passionate about is getting people the answers to their questions that can't be addressed in a short doctor appointment, but not having to stress themselves financially in order to get the help they need. 

Medicine is becoming more of a product and not a service, and doctors are being squeezed for time and production...getting the patients in and out, and those short appointments don't leave room for explanation, education, or personalized attention. The rushed encounters-yes, they literally are referred to as "encounters" in the popular electronic health records...don't leave docs much time to have meaningful discussions with patients or teach them the finer points to empower them to manage their health.

Nurses can and often do fill many of the gaps in information and explanation, but they are under similar time and documentation constraints and in the rushed corporate health care environment, many of the details slip through the cracks as the robotic expectations of the organization for which they work supercede the desire to sit, educate, and empower.

This patient empowerment is a huge unaddressed need, especially in the time period after they get done with cancer treatment. Patients feel lost and abandoned in that transition from cancer patient to...not sure what they are afterward. Called survivors, they don't always feel like they survived. There are patronizing references made to what they feel after treatment. "The new normal" is one of those that makes me grind my teeth at night. 

Feeling like crap with nowhere to turn is not normal. It's not fair or humane to tell them, "well, we treated you for cancer, we poisoned you, burned you and cut out parts, so now you're supposed to go through life tired, sick and debilitated. Get used to it. It's your new normal." 

Not cool. 

People deserve to get information and help in restoring their health, in terms they can understand, and in ways that they can apply to their own lives. They need to do much of the work themselves, because only they can determine where they want to end up in terms of quality of life. But they need guidance, support, and attention getting there after enduring the rigors of cancer treatment and all of the associated emotional, social, financial, spiritual, psychological, and physical invasions in their lives. 

As Faustine and I discussed our ideas and experiences, I thought about my trip to Arizona, where I'll be talking with my dad and stepmom about what day are going through right now, trying to manage my dad's upheaval with chemo and all the fatigue that has stripped away his normal energetic life. Between naps and blood transfusions, he is able to carry on with some of the activities he enjoys, but I had to explain to him why it was not a good idea for him to call his personal trainer to come over for a workout the day after his blood transfusion...which is exactly what he did before I happened to call and catch him in this error that could have resulted in quite an unfavorable outcome. 

He's being treated at a world-renowned cancer facility yet no one explained to him why being severely anemic is not a good condition from which to exercise. Why? Because in medicine, they often don't think to ask about the daily habits of patients, their lifestyles, or what their normal activities are. And my dad doesn't have an education in exercise physiology or health care. They neither have time, nor the thought process in place to do so. It's just not how medicine thinks. 

Even if by chance someone did explain something to him, there is not adequate time for them to assess his full understanding of what they taught him. There is no time for "teach-back" or a way to ensure that the message they tried to convey was received, absorbed, and understood.

So it's just by chance that my dad as a cancer patient happens to have a daughter who is an oncology nurse and told him that not having enough oxygen in your blood to feed important organs like your heart and brain during exercise could result in you having a heart attack or passing out and falling and injuring yourself. And stopped him before it happened. 

People are not being given the attention they need and doctors are not referring them to appropriate resources for help, for their individual lifestyle needs. It happens during treatment and after completion of treatment. And that is what I want to address in a way that is affordable, accessible, understandable, and useful. 

Yet I can't get doctors to give me the time of day to let me explain them how I can help their patients. They're "too busy". So I go directly to the patients themselves. That's okay, but it would be much better if the doctors were aware of this service and could let their patients know. Sad reflection on the state of health care, isn't it? 

You can't make an addict stop the addictive behavior until they want to. You can't change dysfunction from within the system. So I do it from the outside. Meanwhile the doctors will continue to be unaware of these resources available to their patients. And they will do a disservice to their patients by omitting that important information that makes a difference in their healing and quality of life. 

Which is why I've been saying all along, health care is neither health nor care. 

We can do better. And I am. 

End of rant. 

Two Buffs in the Ark

I'm typing this as I sit in the dark in a cheap motel room in Buena Vista, Colorado. We're on highway 24 on the way to Leadville. We figured it would be adventurous to get a place in town that allows pets and doesn't cost a ton. The beds are squishy, but it's not bad as far as places I've stayed. I am on one bed with Isabelle and Iris is on the the other bed with Dennis. Those two seem to be sleeping soundly while Iz and I are restless. 

We needed to get out of town more for a mental break than anything. We came up to our property on Trout Creek Pass where we have a shed on 2 1/2 acres down the road from the Buffalo Peaks. We haven't spent much time up here in years, since the girls were puppies, which was before we got the cabin 30 miles east of here and closer to the front range. 

Last summer we sold the cabin so it's back to vacationing on the Ponderosa pine, Douglas fir and sagebrush covered lot overlooking Pikes Peak and South Park. 

When we arrived we pulled the chairs out of the shed and after walking around surveying the property for dead trees, and just the general condition, we sat down. And breathed.

The infamous South Park wind whooshing through the pine needles, the tall Douglas firs bending in the gusts. And the smell. Pine and grass and earth and sage. And the quiet.

I felt like I returned home, became re-grounded, landing squarely back on my feet after some kind of wild chaotic ride. I forgot how peaceful it is up there. It was simply a matter of driving another half hour, but we never wanted to do it once we got the cabin and moved back to Fort Collins. 

We went into Buena Vista and checked out the town. Dennis has been through here more recently than I have, on his many trips to Gunnison. It'd been a long time Since I came through Buenie (that's what the locals call it, rhymes with "puny") and things gave only changed a little. Very little. 

I'm so glad I don't live here, but I am surprised I forgot the rough charm of the place, the hard reality that people endure who live and work in these towns, unless they are super wealthy and don't have to worry about paying the bills. 

We went down to the Arkansas River. It's sacred to us, years ago we scattered our first dog's ashes upstream in Clear Creek, near Winfield, where she used to play stick all the time. We parked at the east end of town just above the bridge.

Isabelle didn't want to get out of the car so Dennis took Iris across the bridge and up the trail and I stayed close and took some river pics. Iris did not want to go without her mom so they came back quickly. 

We were hungry and decided to find a place to eat. Turned out there was a Mexican restaurant in a dive of an old building, and we checked it out, called Los Girasoles. Turns out it is the real thing, from Guadalajara. Dennis had empanadas that were awesome and I got a burrito with chile verde and refried beans. My test of a Mexican restaurant is always the refried beans. And these passed. 

The spices were mild but when we looked around it was mostly old people eating there. But it was good. And the salsa reminded me of a favorite restaurant in Scottsdale from my high school days that had great salsa and to die for green corn tamales. 

After we ate I went out while Dennis stayed with Isabelle at the room. I took Iris in the car and took pictures of the valley at sunset. The sun was setting behind Mt. Yale and the light was pouring down the drainages between Antero and Princeton, and Yale and Harvard & Columbia. To the south there was light shining on the flats in the valley near Poncha Springs.

On our way back into town we saw deer crossing the highway at the pedestrian crosswalk. They looked like they were going to get their prescriptions filled at the drug store. I guess everyone can have coverage under the ACA.

We came back to the room and now I am awake at 11 pm after trying to go to bed at 9. At least I am not hot flashing because the room is cool. 

I needed to get back here. This place always was healing for me. I used to come over here when we lived in Gunnison, over Monarch Pass and spend the day in the valley. I used to drive over in the morning, go for a run in the hills either on the roads or trails depending on the time of year, then go up to Mt. Princeton Hot Springs and soak a while, then go into Salida and have a glass of wine and hang out until it was time to go back over the mountains.

And then when we lived in Arizona, we used to come up and spend 2 weeks at a time. But ever since we moved back we only went as far west and south as Fairplay, and never bothered to come back here. We're back now. It's like reclaiming a forgotten part of yourself. 

The girls needed to come back too. When they were puppies we took them here all the time. Took them swimming in the river, took them hiking east of town, by the Buffalo Peaks there was a 16 mile trail loop we used to do with them. Now they can't do that, but they are happy just sitting in the grass and sniffing, wandering around to check things out. 

Last week I ran with Wheaties Boy in the cemetery. That morning we only did 7 easy miles, no speed. That was good. Not ready to jump back into speed yet.

I'm still doing the 10 miles a day on my feet plan. Gradually doing more running and less walking. Not  super motivatevd but at least I can do that. 

The Next Morning

When I woke up this morning I was tired. Dennis went out to get coffee while I dragged myself out of bed. At some point in the night the girls wanted out, so I took them out to pee. When I got back into the room I was freezing so I climbed into the bed with Dennis before Iris could jump up, to get some warmth off his body, and then Iris jumped up on the bed  and then Isabelle wanted up. So then it was really Noah's Ark, two people and two buffs on a sagging queen sized bed, sloping toward the middle. Not much sleep, but it was worth it. 

Dennis didn't sleep well either but he slept a lot longer than me. He didn't complain. The only things he said was, "next time, pay more".

We went over to the Evergreen Café for breakfast, where we always used to eat. It's still decent food and good service, right on the highway, and it was pleasant enough outside to sit on the patio. The sky was clear and only a few clouds were out. It was so funny to see the way people dress so casually up there and that they are still so laid back. I always feel like I have to dress "up" in the city. Not really dressed up, because I am about the most casually dressed person in any crowd, but I forgot that I used to live in my fleece jacket and jeans and t-shirt, and never thought about being any less comfortable until I moved to the city. Now it seems like I put a little more thought into what I wear before I go out most of the time.

We drove up by Mt. Princeton to check out the hot springs and they have added a pool. It looks really nice now. And then we drove down to Salida just briefly to check it out too. It hasn't changed either. After that we headed back toward home, with a brief stop at the property again for the girls to stretch their legs.

When we got home, I got caught up on things, unpacked and did laundry, and even had time and energy to give both of the girls a bath. In the bathtub. They smell much better now than they did after lying on that filthy motel room floor. The dirt was pouring off of them.

And Monday is another day. I look forward to it. Taking the weekend off helps everything. And next weekend, it's off to Arizona for me...

Easter Resurrection-ish

I'm almost afraid to say it, but I think I'm starting to feel like myself again.

We had some nice weather this weekend. Last week was a good week for several reasons, I'm starting to feel like I'm hitting a certain stride in my work. I feel more productive and the interest is growing. There still isn't much cash flow coming in but that's okay. I know I'm on the right track and it will happen.

I have a CSU student working with me and she helped me make some videos, we're in the process of producing as many videos as possible this spring. A few copies of the book have sold, and it's been fun listening to the comments and reviews.

Last week I finally started running again after a little break following the Fat Ass. I did a day of trails, and one day I ran hard for a mile to see what happened and I'm so slow I can't even type that many digits on the computer here. Let's just say I have a long way to go with speed. But that's okay. I finally cut out the beer and bad food, and I'm down 3 pounds so far.

Getting a little clarity in my head might be partially a result of getting rid of all the extra carbs I was eating. And maybe my vitamin D level is just starting to rise, enough that I'm not totally in the tank. It will take time, but I am feeling like the light is coming back...

This weekend I ran Saturday with Kirsten, from the running club. She is doing her first ultra in May and she did her longest run ever, 27.5 miles, so I ran the last 11 or so with her. She'll do great, she was hauling ass over the hills at the end.

Easter morning Dennis and I took the girls to Starbucks for pup cups, and then after we walked them, we went up to the foothills to do a little hike on Reservoir Ridge from the town side.

It was warm, and I've heard the snakes are out, but it wasn't all that warm and the breeze cooled us off. Didn't see any snakes. I don't know if they saw us, either.

It's been a long time since I've done much running up in the foothills trails, close to 20 years. It's great to be able to do trails again. I'm planning to hit some of the lower mountain trails on the way up to Estes this spring.

The views from the top, over the northern foothills, Grey Rock, Watson Lake and Bellvue. Then an afternoon of relaxation around the house, wrapping up a few loose ends and recharging for the week ahead.

And I'm meeting Wheaties Boy in the cemetery again this week...don't know what got into me, it will be a sufferfest for sure, but wish me luck...

Little Miss Wildpants and Fall in the Fort

Finally got my butt out the door today, I ran 6 miles. It took me a solid hour plus a few, but I did it.

Every step was a struggle mentally. My legs don't feel all that great either, but I think my brain was worse. I have what I call "elephant legs". It feels like every step is such an effort to pick each leg up and put it down.

But I did it. I deserve a beer after all that. But I haven't cracked one open yet.

Two days in row, I ran. Amazing. We'll see what happens tomorrow. If my legs are dead tomorrow, I'll know it's my legs too, not just my brain.

Iris keeps following me out to the woman cave. Little Miss Wildpants. She tells me what to do. I wish I could get some of this 13 1/2 year old dog's energy. I did text Wheaties Boy for a shot of motivation before I got out the door. He's the only creature I know who has more energy than Little Miss Wildpants.

Isabelle after a walk. She's not Miss Wildpants. She's toast.

Looking out the woman cave now, this is what we see.

This fall has been spectacular. Here are some photos of the flower garden in the front yard and the tomato boxes after the first hard frost we had.

Earlier ths week I was out at Horsetooth and climbed Horsetooth Rock, instead of doing rock Repeats, I took the trail from the top of the Rock Repeat course and climbed to the top of the rock, then took off on the Audra Culver trail for a brief little run back to the service road. I wanted to share some of the photos from that day.

Longs Peak from partway up.

There were flowers still blooming near the top, at 7000 feet, in November!

Views into Redstone Canyon on the other side of the Rock and looking out at Longs Peak, below.

Looking out over Horsetooth Reservoir and Fort Collins to the east.

This little guy was at the top waiting for me to take out some food.

Views of the Audra Culver trail.

I am so lucky to live here.