It was nice to do a simple 5K again. I've done Race for the Cure every year since 2004. Despite the crazy crowds, the lack of timing chips, and the huge pain it is to get there in traffic, I will always come back. It was the first race I'd ever done. This was the race that gave me the running bug; the jumping point for all of my triathlons. So as a result, it will always have a fond place in my heart.
That said, I do wish to bitch for a moment. I know this may be against the spirit of the race, but why, for the love of everything good, do people who plan to walk the race start on the Run side?? The race is split down the road for a reason! And furthermore, if you're going to walk on the run side, why would you start at the front of a mass of tens of thousands of runners? Every year this happens. I realize that a lot of people aren't veteran at this whole racing thing and have no idea what "seeding oneself" even means, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that this is a really dumbass idea.
But yeah...breast cancer and hope and all that.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Friday, September 30, 2011
Belated Race Report for the Boulder 70.3
So I finished it. Without crawling! It took 6 hours, 47 minutes, and 33 seconds. Which was longer than it took me last year when I was all hypothyroid. But I guess there's the mitigating factor this year of being unable to train on my sprained ankles, as well as being in the process of healing (or I guess setting back the healing of) my sprained ankles during the race. Also, I went rock climbing the day before, and I like this excuse the best because it makes me seem badass.
And at least I did feel much better during this race than last year.
Swim 51:53
I'm a terrible swimmer. I'm even worse when I'm refusing to kick in order to save my ankles for the run (imagine that!) I went with my old standby of starting way off to the back and side. Unfortunately, I ended up next to a (faster) swimmer who couldn't sight at all who kept crossing in front of me. I did briefly entertain drowning this person the 7th time she crossed my line, but figured that would get me disqualified.
T1
It took me forever to get my ankle braces on because it HURT! All in all it took me about 8 minutes, but I never really cared much about my transition times. I mean...sure, I could strive to be the fastest stripper ever, but why?
It was a little disheartening being one of the last three bikes out of the transition area, but being in the 3rd to last wave, and being the slowest swimmer in the history of mankind, it was expected.
Bike 3:00:58
I really enjoyed the bike.
At first I felt like I was really far behind. It felt like everyone was already on their 2nd lap when I was one my first. I was a bit worried I'd be the only one left on the course. And that the dreaded sag wagon would come up and tell me what a failure I was.
But then I hit lap two and realized that I wasn't alone and felt like less of a failure. I did hit a wall at about mile 50 and ended up pulling back a little to recover, but 18.53mph for 56 miles isn't bad for me.
Run 02:41:50
Okay, so I went into this with a secret hope that I was going to be miraculously cured and be able to totally kick ass on the run, all the while knowing I was really going to suck. But then the 96 degree heat and my general lameness took my delusions and stomped them into the ground.
Having only been given the go-ahead to resume running by my physical therapist 2 weeks ago, I ended up walking the aid stations and a few hills between, running more than I thought I could.
I didn't have too hard of a time staying cool, thanks to all the ice I dumped down my top at every aid station and the sponge I kept in my visor. I sounded like a martini shaker with every step, but at least I felt okay.
I spent most of my time staring at the ground so I wouldn't sprain either ankle again, which made for an incredibly boring run, but oh well.
Afterparty
So when I finally got to the food tent and found they had run out of food, I nearly had a complete meltdown. This seems to be a theme for all my races. I should probably start baking cookies or something on the dashboard of my car during all my races so I can stop devolving into a raging bitch after every race.
And at least I did feel much better during this race than last year.
Swim 51:53
I'm a terrible swimmer. I'm even worse when I'm refusing to kick in order to save my ankles for the run (imagine that!) I went with my old standby of starting way off to the back and side. Unfortunately, I ended up next to a (faster) swimmer who couldn't sight at all who kept crossing in front of me. I did briefly entertain drowning this person the 7th time she crossed my line, but figured that would get me disqualified.
T1
It took me forever to get my ankle braces on because it HURT! All in all it took me about 8 minutes, but I never really cared much about my transition times. I mean...sure, I could strive to be the fastest stripper ever, but why?
It was a little disheartening being one of the last three bikes out of the transition area, but being in the 3rd to last wave, and being the slowest swimmer in the history of mankind, it was expected.
Bike 3:00:58
I really enjoyed the bike.
At first I felt like I was really far behind. It felt like everyone was already on their 2nd lap when I was one my first. I was a bit worried I'd be the only one left on the course. And that the dreaded sag wagon would come up and tell me what a failure I was.
But then I hit lap two and realized that I wasn't alone and felt like less of a failure. I did hit a wall at about mile 50 and ended up pulling back a little to recover, but 18.53mph for 56 miles isn't bad for me.
Run 02:41:50
Okay, so I went into this with a secret hope that I was going to be miraculously cured and be able to totally kick ass on the run, all the while knowing I was really going to suck. But then the 96 degree heat and my general lameness took my delusions and stomped them into the ground.
Having only been given the go-ahead to resume running by my physical therapist 2 weeks ago, I ended up walking the aid stations and a few hills between, running more than I thought I could.
I didn't have too hard of a time staying cool, thanks to all the ice I dumped down my top at every aid station and the sponge I kept in my visor. I sounded like a martini shaker with every step, but at least I felt okay.
I spent most of my time staring at the ground so I wouldn't sprain either ankle again, which made for an incredibly boring run, but oh well.
Afterparty
So when I finally got to the food tent and found they had run out of food, I nearly had a complete meltdown. This seems to be a theme for all my races. I should probably start baking cookies or something on the dashboard of my car during all my races so I can stop devolving into a raging bitch after every race.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Weight loss!
After months of avoiding the scale because weighing myself just pissed me off, I finally hopped on it again this morning. And......I'm only 2 pounds away from my pre-marathon weight, when my body was functioning normally. Success!
Part of me is a still a bit confused by the weight loss. Since I had sprained my ankles a month (and two) ago, I haven't been able to be as active as I was before. So with the constant "calories in = calories out" model of weight loss drumming in my head, it baffles that I'm losing weight now when a year ago I was working out much more but was unable to shed any weight at all.
On a logical level, I know it's because my metabolism was messed up then, and the "calories out" part of the equation just wasn't working. But it's hard to get used to your body, something you live with every day, just up and working differently. It's like if one day you learned that all the speed limits have been raised by 10 mph. It takes you a while to get used to, and you find yourself driving near the old speed limit every so often. But maybe that analogy only works because I'm Asian.
I believe part of it may be the gluten-free diet, and much of it is the levothyroxine kicking in. But there's still that little part in my head saying I'm cheating. Way to turn something good into something crazy, right?
Part of me is a still a bit confused by the weight loss. Since I had sprained my ankles a month (and two) ago, I haven't been able to be as active as I was before. So with the constant "calories in = calories out" model of weight loss drumming in my head, it baffles that I'm losing weight now when a year ago I was working out much more but was unable to shed any weight at all.
On a logical level, I know it's because my metabolism was messed up then, and the "calories out" part of the equation just wasn't working. But it's hard to get used to your body, something you live with every day, just up and working differently. It's like if one day you learned that all the speed limits have been raised by 10 mph. It takes you a while to get used to, and you find yourself driving near the old speed limit every so often. But maybe that analogy only works because I'm Asian.
I believe part of it may be the gluten-free diet, and much of it is the levothyroxine kicking in. But there's still that little part in my head saying I'm cheating. Way to turn something good into something crazy, right?
Monday, July 11, 2011
Boulder Peak: From the sidelines
So yesterday I got my first DNF (Boulder Peak), although I'm not sure that not even starting a race counts for a DNF. I ended up volunteering to do body-marking in the morning, and spent the rest of the time watching my friend compete. I left the race feeling awed, humbled, disappointed, and depressed all at the same time.
First, let me say that I have absolutely no patience for watching sports whatsoever. I've always felt that the time spent watching sports could be better used playing a sport. So it was amazing to finally see how the pros and elite compete in these things. I'm pretty sure if I tried to transition as quickly as they did I would knock over the entire bike rack and injure myself.
It was also humbling to see all of the athletes out there, and know that all of these people have trained hard and were out there to do the best they could. Usually I'm too absorbed in calming my "I'm going to drown! Please don't drown!" thoughts to really pay attention to the people around me. Yesterday there were clydesdales, 70 year old men and women, 15 year old kids, and I even marked some woman who had just won her last battle with breast cancer.
But as the race wore on, I started to feel the disappointment I thought I had overcome when I first decided not to participate in this race. I couldn't help but imagine how I would be feeling on the bike (brutal course; I loved it!) and where I would be in the race. It came most strongly when my friend finished; and I knew the glow of elation and accomplishment she was feeling that I was lacking. I still cheered her on, but did sort of guiltily feel like a bad friend for feeling this way.
And finally, I left the race feeling depressed. I finally have a physical therapy appointment, and I'm terrified that she'll say I can't do the 70.3 either. So I tried to make myself feel better by going to The Bent Gate and purchasing my first pair of Italian leather shoes. Granted, they're climbing shoes, but hey, they still count, right?
First, let me say that I have absolutely no patience for watching sports whatsoever. I've always felt that the time spent watching sports could be better used playing a sport. So it was amazing to finally see how the pros and elite compete in these things. I'm pretty sure if I tried to transition as quickly as they did I would knock over the entire bike rack and injure myself.
It was also humbling to see all of the athletes out there, and know that all of these people have trained hard and were out there to do the best they could. Usually I'm too absorbed in calming my "I'm going to drown! Please don't drown!" thoughts to really pay attention to the people around me. Yesterday there were clydesdales, 70 year old men and women, 15 year old kids, and I even marked some woman who had just won her last battle with breast cancer.
But as the race wore on, I started to feel the disappointment I thought I had overcome when I first decided not to participate in this race. I couldn't help but imagine how I would be feeling on the bike (brutal course; I loved it!) and where I would be in the race. It came most strongly when my friend finished; and I knew the glow of elation and accomplishment she was feeling that I was lacking. I still cheered her on, but did sort of guiltily feel like a bad friend for feeling this way.
And finally, I left the race feeling depressed. I finally have a physical therapy appointment, and I'm terrified that she'll say I can't do the 70.3 either. So I tried to make myself feel better by going to The Bent Gate and purchasing my first pair of Italian leather shoes. Granted, they're climbing shoes, but hey, they still count, right?
Friday, July 8, 2011
Cold again...
So lately my office has felt about 55 degrees F again, and it's making me paranoid.
I don't think I'm becoming hypothyroid again, since I was tested at the endocrinologist about 2 months ago my dosage seemed to be correct, but the fact that I need to wear a heavy winter coat in July is raising some alarms.
I haven't been working out as much, but I can easily attribute that to my two sprained ankles. I'm still going 17-19 mph on my bike without issue, so I'm pretty sure my aversion to exercise isn't due to lethargy.
But yet...I'm so COLD.
Well, actually I'm fine everywhere except at the office, so I'm almost positive it's the stupid building management trying to kill me with hypothermia.
But the seed of doubt has been planted. It's a bit frustrating to be unable to trust your own body's thermometer.
I don't think I'm becoming hypothyroid again, since I was tested at the endocrinologist about 2 months ago my dosage seemed to be correct, but the fact that I need to wear a heavy winter coat in July is raising some alarms.
I haven't been working out as much, but I can easily attribute that to my two sprained ankles. I'm still going 17-19 mph on my bike without issue, so I'm pretty sure my aversion to exercise isn't due to lethargy.
But yet...I'm so COLD.
Well, actually I'm fine everywhere except at the office, so I'm almost positive it's the stupid building management trying to kill me with hypothermia.
But the seed of doubt has been planted. It's a bit frustrating to be unable to trust your own body's thermometer.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Tough Mudder Race Report
So on the heels of the Boulder Sprint, I was signed up to complete the Tough Mudder in Beaver Creek; a 10 mile adventure race with miscellaneous obstacles and electric shocks at the end. Kind of like a Warrior Dash on steroids.
With barely healed ankles, it was undoubtably a bad idea. But at an $80 registration fee, my cheap, crazy side just came out swinging and I ended up doing it.
I couldn't find my left ankle brace (I have organizational problems), but that ankle was mostly healed so I figured I'd just slap a ton of Kinesio tape on it and call it good.
As expected, I re-sprained that ankle about 3 miles into the run. But since the whole thing was mostly straight up a ski slope, I figured I could walk and finish the thing.
Surprisingly, the Electro-Shock therapy was not the worst of the obstacles. The worst was the 36 degree freezing cold water they expected you to completely submerse yourself in ducking under barrels. I went into it thinking, "eh, I do triathlons all the time. The water parts will be fine!" I quickly learned that it was not fine at all...at 36 degrees F, you resurface to try and take a breath, but your lungs seize up due to the cold and it's a struggle to do anything except flail around gaping like a fish.
Right before I went in some guy had to be pulled out by a rescue volunteer. And while I was thrashing about in the water, a guy next to me started screaming, "I can't do this! I can't do this!" which did not help my panic levels at all. On the plus side, it was like instantly icing my re-sprained ankle.
It ended up being a lot of fun, but I'm pretty sure it put me out of commission for the Boulder Peak next weekend. Yes, I'm actually sitting this one out before I mangle my ankles permanently (assuming I haven't already). I've already emailed to ask if I can volunteer instead. Also, I've finally caved and scheduled physical therapy instead of utilizing my "Damn you ankles, you do what I want, not the other way around!" form of rehab that has thus far been failing me. I don't understand why such a highly sophisticated method wouldn't work, but I guess them's the break.
Below are some videos taken from my GoPro Hero camera that I had posted on Facebook:
With barely healed ankles, it was undoubtably a bad idea. But at an $80 registration fee, my cheap, crazy side just came out swinging and I ended up doing it.
I couldn't find my left ankle brace (I have organizational problems), but that ankle was mostly healed so I figured I'd just slap a ton of Kinesio tape on it and call it good.
As expected, I re-sprained that ankle about 3 miles into the run. But since the whole thing was mostly straight up a ski slope, I figured I could walk and finish the thing.
Surprisingly, the Electro-Shock therapy was not the worst of the obstacles. The worst was the 36 degree freezing cold water they expected you to completely submerse yourself in ducking under barrels. I went into it thinking, "eh, I do triathlons all the time. The water parts will be fine!" I quickly learned that it was not fine at all...at 36 degrees F, you resurface to try and take a breath, but your lungs seize up due to the cold and it's a struggle to do anything except flail around gaping like a fish.
Right before I went in some guy had to be pulled out by a rescue volunteer. And while I was thrashing about in the water, a guy next to me started screaming, "I can't do this! I can't do this!" which did not help my panic levels at all. On the plus side, it was like instantly icing my re-sprained ankle.
It ended up being a lot of fun, but I'm pretty sure it put me out of commission for the Boulder Peak next weekend. Yes, I'm actually sitting this one out before I mangle my ankles permanently (assuming I haven't already). I've already emailed to ask if I can volunteer instead. Also, I've finally caved and scheduled physical therapy instead of utilizing my "Damn you ankles, you do what I want, not the other way around!" form of rehab that has thus far been failing me. I don't understand why such a highly sophisticated method wouldn't work, but I guess them's the break.
Below are some videos taken from my GoPro Hero camera that I had posted on Facebook:
Boulder Sprint Race Report
Finally, the Boulder Sprint Race Report
Swim: 20:35
Bike: 53:18
Run: 28:08
Total: 1:52:33
So a few thoughts. I obviously did end up doing the race; and I did better than I thought I would. I've never been a strong swimmer, and since I wasn't really able to kick during this swim, my time was almost exactly what I predicted it would be
The thing that really killed me were the transitions (6:57 and 3:52). The first one was absolutely horrible due to my struggles in getting on my ankle brace. I'm not going to lie, it hurt to get it over my foot. That should have been a sign that I shouldn't be doing the race, but if I listened to my body all the time I'd be sitting on my couch and eating cheetos 24/7 and 300 pounds.
But disregarding my initial protests, I loved being on my bike. After the initial pain of getting out of transition and onto the bike, my ankles didn't really bother me at all. So for 53:18 I felt like I had a complete and whole body. Plenty of people passed me, but 19.4 mph made me happy anyway. And everytime someone passed me, I thought, "Yeah, well you don't have gimpy ankles and have a functioning thyroid." Illogical since my ankles were bothering me at that point, but I like pretending that if I didn't have these issues I'd be cycling at an entirely realistic 30mph average.
Finally,the run. I put on my other ankle brace (for my less injured ankle) and started out walking as intended. And then I watched people pass me. And I did some calculations; if I continued with my limping walk, it would probably take an hour to finish the stupid course. And then I reasoned, well, 30 minutes abusing my poor ankles was clearly worse than spending an hour abusing my poor ankles only slightly less. So I broke into what I thought was a slow jog. And finished with a 9:04 pace, although I suspect the course was short.
Of course, the next day I paid for my stubborness with barely being able to walk, but it seemed worth it at the time. Dumb, I know. But apparently I have a psycho competitive side inside me. Unfortunately, I did "lose" to my friend by 3:00...but there's always next time!
Swim: 20:35
Bike: 53:18
Run: 28:08
Total: 1:52:33
So a few thoughts. I obviously did end up doing the race; and I did better than I thought I would. I've never been a strong swimmer, and since I wasn't really able to kick during this swim, my time was almost exactly what I predicted it would be
The thing that really killed me were the transitions (6:57 and 3:52). The first one was absolutely horrible due to my struggles in getting on my ankle brace. I'm not going to lie, it hurt to get it over my foot. That should have been a sign that I shouldn't be doing the race, but if I listened to my body all the time I'd be sitting on my couch and eating cheetos 24/7 and 300 pounds.
But disregarding my initial protests, I loved being on my bike. After the initial pain of getting out of transition and onto the bike, my ankles didn't really bother me at all. So for 53:18 I felt like I had a complete and whole body. Plenty of people passed me, but 19.4 mph made me happy anyway. And everytime someone passed me, I thought, "Yeah, well you don't have gimpy ankles and have a functioning thyroid." Illogical since my ankles were bothering me at that point, but I like pretending that if I didn't have these issues I'd be cycling at an entirely realistic 30mph average.
Finally,the run. I put on my other ankle brace (for my less injured ankle) and started out walking as intended. And then I watched people pass me. And I did some calculations; if I continued with my limping walk, it would probably take an hour to finish the stupid course. And then I reasoned, well, 30 minutes abusing my poor ankles was clearly worse than spending an hour abusing my poor ankles only slightly less. So I broke into what I thought was a slow jog. And finished with a 9:04 pace, although I suspect the course was short.
Of course, the next day I paid for my stubborness with barely being able to walk, but it seemed worth it at the time. Dumb, I know. But apparently I have a psycho competitive side inside me. Unfortunately, I did "lose" to my friend by 3:00...but there's always next time!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Facing my first potential DNF
So last Saturday I had a long run. I was feeling great on it, thinking that my left ankle sprain was healing up nicely, that I've been pretty good about following my training plan, and my hypothyroidism seemed to be under control.
As I was running down the sidewalk, I saw a very obviously pregnant woman waddling down the sidewalk. I smiled and moved aside, giving her more room to pass. Promptly stepping into a pothole and spraining my right ankle.
At least it's a different ligament this time.
My first race of the season (a sprint) is this Sunday, so there's a real possibility that I may be facing my first DNF. I'm still holding out for the slight possibility that I can walk the 3.1 miles at the end, although I'm still not at the point where I can consistently put weight on my right foot.
The lesson here: No more yielding to pregnant women.
As I was running down the sidewalk, I saw a very obviously pregnant woman waddling down the sidewalk. I smiled and moved aside, giving her more room to pass. Promptly stepping into a pothole and spraining my right ankle.
At least it's a different ligament this time.
My first race of the season (a sprint) is this Sunday, so there's a real possibility that I may be facing my first DNF. I'm still holding out for the slight possibility that I can walk the 3.1 miles at the end, although I'm still not at the point where I can consistently put weight on my right foot.
The lesson here: No more yielding to pregnant women.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Old jerk on a bike
Generally cyclists are a friendly bunch (at least to other cyclists - not so much motorists) Often when I'm changing a flat or just stopping to rest, I'm amazed by how many cyclists are willing to lend out their tubes/air/compressor/help. (Those things start adding up after a while!)
So on my bike ride this morning, I rode past an old guy standing in the weeds with his road bike. He seemed to be waiting for something/one, so I called out, "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
He slowly turns to face me, then yells out, "None of your God-damned business!"
A little shocked, I muttered an "...okay?" and rode off.
For the rest of my ride, my thoughts got increasingly angry, culminating in, "I hope he has a heart attack and the next time I ride around I won't offer to help."
But then I realized I probably would stop anyway. I mean, I'd kind of feel guilty if I ignored someone in need who I later found out died. But I might passively aggressively make the 911 call with, "Some jackass is having a heart attack. You should probably help him, but he won't be appreciative."
So on my bike ride this morning, I rode past an old guy standing in the weeds with his road bike. He seemed to be waiting for something/one, so I called out, "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
He slowly turns to face me, then yells out, "None of your God-damned business!"
A little shocked, I muttered an "...okay?" and rode off.
For the rest of my ride, my thoughts got increasingly angry, culminating in, "I hope he has a heart attack and the next time I ride around I won't offer to help."
But then I realized I probably would stop anyway. I mean, I'd kind of feel guilty if I ignored someone in need who I later found out died. But I might passively aggressively make the 911 call with, "Some jackass is having a heart attack. You should probably help him, but he won't be appreciative."
Thursday, June 2, 2011
The dreaded hour...
Anyone on thyroid replacement therapy has probably heard that you must take the pill on an empty stomach, and cannot eat for at least an hour after taking the pill. My doctor told me. My endocrinologist told me. And the pharmacist told me when I picked up the pills.
Fine, sounds easy enough. Take the pill in the morning and wait...wait a second...how long? An hour???
Maybe it's because I somehow missed out on the girly gene and I don't wear makeup or blow dry my hair, but an hour is a freaking long time to wait. That means that I have to wake up at least an hour and a half (extra half hour for the actual act of eating) before I need to be anywhere in order to take this stupid pill.
Which wasn't that big of a deal in the winter. Sure, I'd get hungry waiting, but I could survive. But now that it's summer and training is in full force, I've begun doing 1.5-2 hour workouts in the morning. And as a result, I've been waking up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. the past week. And that just isn't okay with me.
A typical morning goes like this:
4:30 a.m. - Wake up, shove the cat off my pillow and fumble for the stupid pill.
4:32 a.m. - Drink the water I laid out on my bedstand the night before that I'm about 90% sure the cat drinks out of while I'm sleeping. Then get out of bed.
4:40 a.m. - Get dressed (I usually shower the night before), pack my clothes for the afternoon workout. Feed the cat, brush my teeth.
4:55 a.m. - Pack my lunch, drooling over all the food I can't eat yet.
5:00 a.m. - Wait
5:15 a.m. - Wait
5:20 a.m. - Start cursing all the evil forces that have made me reliant on this stupid pill
5:30 a.m. - Finally start eating
6:00 a.m. - Leave to do my workouts, then go to work.
As you can see, there's a huge chunk of my morning that I COULD be using to sleep, but instead spend waiting while I get hungrier and hungrier.
Let me just tell you; I can't wait until race day when I'm waking up at 3a.m. just so I can eat breakfast....
Fine, sounds easy enough. Take the pill in the morning and wait...wait a second...how long? An hour???
Maybe it's because I somehow missed out on the girly gene and I don't wear makeup or blow dry my hair, but an hour is a freaking long time to wait. That means that I have to wake up at least an hour and a half (extra half hour for the actual act of eating) before I need to be anywhere in order to take this stupid pill.
Which wasn't that big of a deal in the winter. Sure, I'd get hungry waiting, but I could survive. But now that it's summer and training is in full force, I've begun doing 1.5-2 hour workouts in the morning. And as a result, I've been waking up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. the past week. And that just isn't okay with me.
A typical morning goes like this:
4:30 a.m. - Wake up, shove the cat off my pillow and fumble for the stupid pill.
4:32 a.m. - Drink the water I laid out on my bedstand the night before that I'm about 90% sure the cat drinks out of while I'm sleeping. Then get out of bed.
4:40 a.m. - Get dressed (I usually shower the night before), pack my clothes for the afternoon workout. Feed the cat, brush my teeth.
4:55 a.m. - Pack my lunch, drooling over all the food I can't eat yet.
5:00 a.m. - Wait
5:15 a.m. - Wait
5:20 a.m. - Start cursing all the evil forces that have made me reliant on this stupid pill
5:30 a.m. - Finally start eating
6:00 a.m. - Leave to do my workouts, then go to work.
As you can see, there's a huge chunk of my morning that I COULD be using to sleep, but instead spend waiting while I get hungrier and hungrier.
Let me just tell you; I can't wait until race day when I'm waking up at 3a.m. just so I can eat breakfast....
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
I'm afraid I look like a douche
So few weeks ago I finally did it. I installed the clip-on aero bars I got for Christmas onto my bike. And have promptly discovered 3 main issues with the:
- I have no idea how to use aero bars. I have a confession. I don't even go down into the drops very often because I feel less in control. So why I thought aero-bars would be a great idea, I don't know.
- I'm pretty sure I installed them wrong. Why go through the effort of googling how to do it right when I'm not going to really be using them anyway?
- I have a really small bike. As in child sized road bike. 44 cm. as you can imagine, there isn't much room on the handlebar for the bars and my cycling computer. So right now, until the company I ordered my computer bracket from finally gets my order right, my cycling computer is duct taped to my stem.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Injuries
So two Saturdays I decided to run 7 miles after a 40 minute swim. I was a little worried that being so late in the sunny day, I'd end up overheating, but rationalized that I would have just finished swimming, so clearly a little heat wouldn't hurt.
Yeah, dumb idea. It was hot and miserable. Nobody else was out there. Except at mile 5. When I ran by a girl, tripped over what I like to believe was an incredibly dense air pocket, and rolled my ankle. She even looked back as she was helping me up to see what I tripped over (a big fat nothing). The biggest problem with actually falling over is that there's no way to make it look like you did it on purpose.
So after I had convinced her to go on, I gingerly stepped on my rolled ankle. It was a bit painful, so I limped a little bit. Then realized that I was 2 miles away from the car. So my options were to either run back injured, or waste at least an hour limping back. Run it was.
End result being that at the end of the day, my ankle looked like a baseball had been surgically implanted there. Sprained ankle. Sad. So the past few weeks I've been trying to bike and swim. Tonight I'm going to try climbing...see how that goes. I'm predicting not well.
Yeah, dumb idea. It was hot and miserable. Nobody else was out there. Except at mile 5. When I ran by a girl, tripped over what I like to believe was an incredibly dense air pocket, and rolled my ankle. She even looked back as she was helping me up to see what I tripped over (a big fat nothing). The biggest problem with actually falling over is that there's no way to make it look like you did it on purpose.
So after I had convinced her to go on, I gingerly stepped on my rolled ankle. It was a bit painful, so I limped a little bit. Then realized that I was 2 miles away from the car. So my options were to either run back injured, or waste at least an hour limping back. Run it was.
End result being that at the end of the day, my ankle looked like a baseball had been surgically implanted there. Sprained ankle. Sad. So the past few weeks I've been trying to bike and swim. Tonight I'm going to try climbing...see how that goes. I'm predicting not well.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
The pitfalls of bike trails
A lot of friends and coworkers have asked me to do the Denver Century since it's in town and is a relatively easy ride. Many of them haven't done a century before, and this one seems doable to them. For some reason they feel like since I like cycling, I'd want to join them.
The would be a categorical hell no. And not because I have anything against the organizers, or the sponsors, or anything. It's because this century utilizes multi-use paths.
Don't get me wrong, I actually enjoy riding on MUPs, and would love more MUPs to be built. The paths in Colorado are especially nice and convenient for getting around town. It's the people who use the paths who piss me the hell off.
Today I came up behind a girl with her dog taking up the entire path. I called out, "On your left!" But she didn't move. Thinking she hadn't heard me, I got a little closer and hollered, "ON YOUR LEFT!" Still no response. So I slow down to 3mph, slowly start "tailgating" her while waiting for an opportunity to pass, and screamed, "EXCUSE ME!!!" She finally looks up. She had headphones in, with the music apparently blasting at volumes that excluded all other noise.
Don't get me wrong. I love dogs. I volunteer to run dogs at the local animal shelter. I also occasionally listen to music while running. I'm not a purist who believes runners should suffer 8 miles with nothing but their own labored breathing to entertain them. But for the love of all that is good, if you're going to listen to music while walking/running your dog, stay to the side of the path!!! Does it not occur to these people that just maybe, maybe someone else might be using the path while they're on it?? Next time I might just bring my airhorn..
Then there are the people who travel in groups taking up the entire path. When coming up on these groups, oftentimes they'll look you straight in the eye and refuse to move until you've slowed to a crawl. And then, one person will begrudgingly move over to the side, leaving you a narrow strip of concrete that you must precariously balance on or risk falling into the weeds full of goatheads.
I'd hope that the Denver Century would close off the bike paths and only allow cyclists onto it. But even then, can you imagine the nightmare it would be? Subaru's Elephant Rock was already dangerously packed with cyclists, and they utilized real roads. Imagine cramming all that onto a bike path?
No thanks. But if any of you are planning to do this ride, I wish you the best of luck!
The would be a categorical hell no. And not because I have anything against the organizers, or the sponsors, or anything. It's because this century utilizes multi-use paths.
Don't get me wrong, I actually enjoy riding on MUPs, and would love more MUPs to be built. The paths in Colorado are especially nice and convenient for getting around town. It's the people who use the paths who piss me the hell off.
Today I came up behind a girl with her dog taking up the entire path. I called out, "On your left!" But she didn't move. Thinking she hadn't heard me, I got a little closer and hollered, "ON YOUR LEFT!" Still no response. So I slow down to 3mph, slowly start "tailgating" her while waiting for an opportunity to pass, and screamed, "EXCUSE ME!!!" She finally looks up. She had headphones in, with the music apparently blasting at volumes that excluded all other noise.
Don't get me wrong. I love dogs. I volunteer to run dogs at the local animal shelter. I also occasionally listen to music while running. I'm not a purist who believes runners should suffer 8 miles with nothing but their own labored breathing to entertain them. But for the love of all that is good, if you're going to listen to music while walking/running your dog, stay to the side of the path!!! Does it not occur to these people that just maybe, maybe someone else might be using the path while they're on it?? Next time I might just bring my airhorn..
Then there are the people who travel in groups taking up the entire path. When coming up on these groups, oftentimes they'll look you straight in the eye and refuse to move until you've slowed to a crawl. And then, one person will begrudgingly move over to the side, leaving you a narrow strip of concrete that you must precariously balance on or risk falling into the weeds full of goatheads.
I'd hope that the Denver Century would close off the bike paths and only allow cyclists onto it. But even then, can you imagine the nightmare it would be? Subaru's Elephant Rock was already dangerously packed with cyclists, and they utilized real roads. Imagine cramming all that onto a bike path?
No thanks. But if any of you are planning to do this ride, I wish you the best of luck!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Athletic Magazines
Every so often I'm seized with the urge to browse through triathlon/running/climbing/cycling magazines. It's nice to catch up on the latest gear, as well as to ogle the incredibly fit and attractive models they put in there (especially in the climbing ones). But every time I do it, I get worked up into an indignant annoyance that invariably leaves me avoiding the magazine rack for months due to the sexism, the creepiness, and my own guilt of these magazines.
Let's tackle the sexism first. Anyone else noticed that these magazines are invariably placed in close proximity to, if not within, the "Men's Interest" magazines? Despite the fact that many running and climbing magazines frequently feature women athletes on the cover (cycling not so much, those spandex clad chauvinists), there is the constant implication that these magazines are for men, get back in the kitchen women! (The knitting, home and garden, gossip, and cooking magazines are almost always placed near the "Women's Interests") Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but there's my take.
As a side effect of being placed right next to the "Men's Interest" magazines, the creepiness factor comes into play. 9 times out of 10, while I'm looking through the latest sports magazine, some guy will wander into the vicinity, only to see me and slink back out. Like you're fooling anyone. Both you and I know that what you really want is to "discreetly" jack off to Maxim when you think nobody is watching, and I've just thwarted your plan by being there.
And touching on that, I always feel weird looking at magazines without buying them. I'd hope the above creepy guys feel weirder "using" the magazines without buying, but I always end up so weirded out by the whole experience that I just end up walking away.
I kind of feel like yelling out, "It's clear now!" when I leave. After all, it was never my intention to ruin anyone's good time.
Let's tackle the sexism first. Anyone else noticed that these magazines are invariably placed in close proximity to, if not within, the "Men's Interest" magazines? Despite the fact that many running and climbing magazines frequently feature women athletes on the cover (cycling not so much, those spandex clad chauvinists), there is the constant implication that these magazines are for men, get back in the kitchen women! (The knitting, home and garden, gossip, and cooking magazines are almost always placed near the "Women's Interests") Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but there's my take.
As a side effect of being placed right next to the "Men's Interest" magazines, the creepiness factor comes into play. 9 times out of 10, while I'm looking through the latest sports magazine, some guy will wander into the vicinity, only to see me and slink back out. Like you're fooling anyone. Both you and I know that what you really want is to "discreetly" jack off to Maxim when you think nobody is watching, and I've just thwarted your plan by being there.
And touching on that, I always feel weird looking at magazines without buying them. I'd hope the above creepy guys feel weirder "using" the magazines without buying, but I always end up so weirded out by the whole experience that I just end up walking away.
I kind of feel like yelling out, "It's clear now!" when I leave. After all, it was never my intention to ruin anyone's good time.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Swimming annoyances
While I probably don't qualify as an expert on pool etiquette, I'm still going to spout off on things that irritate me to no end at the pool.
If I were the god of public pool swimming, I'd make the following mandatory on threat of being punched in the face:
If I were the god of public pool swimming, I'd make the following mandatory on threat of being punched in the face:
- Don't come with your friend during a busy time and stand at the end of the lane talking. As important and Prince William's wedding is, you're wasting an entire lane that could accomodate 3-5 people who come to the gym to actually, you know, work out. At least have the courtesy to grab a kickboard and pretend you're using the lane while you talk.
- Know your speed and pick an appropriate lane. Seriously. If you're slow and jump into the fast lane, prepare to get swum over (although that could be good triathlon training). Similarly, if you're fast, get the fuck out of the slow lane. At one point this crazy woman decided to join my slow lane with swim fins, then continuously lap everyone in the lane, forcing us to stop at every end to let her by. Far from making her look awesome, as I'm sure she intended, she just looked like a moron.
- If you're joining a lane that's being split by two people, let them know you'd like to join before barreling down the lane. Because if you don't these people are not going to know you want to switch to circle swimming. You don't have to be a genius to figure out what happens next.
- Don't douse yourself with a gallon of your favorite perfume before swimming. This morning I was splitting the lane when suddenly I realized I was swimming in a pool of chlorinated Clinique Happy. Everytime I took a breath, the overpowering smell of perfume invaded my nostrils. Why would you do that???
- Don't steal shit that isn't yours. Once I got out of the lane to find my 50 cent flip-flops had been taken, leaving me to walk through the locker room barefoot. I filed a police report, suggesting they mace the perpetrater when they find him/her. I am expecting to hear back any day now.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Rock climbing and thyroid medication
Most endurance athletes have probably experienced an increase in their sweat response as they become more conditioned.
A few years ago when I was training for a marathon, I found I would start sweating at the drop of a hat. A doctor holds up a needle? Sweat would start dripping down my arm. I see a dog go running into the road? It looked like someone threw a bucket of water over my head. Anything that remotely brought my heart rate up would result in copious amounts of sweating. I spent 70% of my time looking like a drowned rat and probably smelling like a gym's locker room. I guess it's good I was already married. This could be (one of!) the reasons men prefer women who do yoga to marathon runners...
But when I started becoming hypothyroid, my sweat response decreased dramatically. It was actually a pretty convenient side effect, since soon thereafter I took up rock climbing. Sweaty hands are the bane of rock climbers, to the point that they smear disgusting chalk all over their hands repeatedly. (I rarely chalk, not because I'm a purist, but because it just makes your nails and hands disgusting). I could just waltz up the 5.10's with clean(ish) dry hands, and look pretty hard core at the same time.
But since getting on levothyroxine, my sweat production seems to have gone back to normal. My friend points out that when I climb overhangs, there is now usually a trail of sweat below me. I'll start a bouldering route only to fly off at the end when my sweating equals that of 5 mini-hoses attached to my fingertips. And I've had to start wearing tank tops, requiring an unfortunate amount of attention to whether or not my armpit hair has started growing back...sigh.
I guess I can take comfort in the fact that when the zombie apocalypse comes, I probably won't be able to find levothyroxine, thus increasing my ability to climb random objects to escape the zombies. Of course, that won't be any help if I can't outrun them to these objects because I'm so freaking fatigued. Or I could just start using chalk. Blech....
A few years ago when I was training for a marathon, I found I would start sweating at the drop of a hat. A doctor holds up a needle? Sweat would start dripping down my arm. I see a dog go running into the road? It looked like someone threw a bucket of water over my head. Anything that remotely brought my heart rate up would result in copious amounts of sweating. I spent 70% of my time looking like a drowned rat and probably smelling like a gym's locker room. I guess it's good I was already married. This could be (one of!) the reasons men prefer women who do yoga to marathon runners...
But when I started becoming hypothyroid, my sweat response decreased dramatically. It was actually a pretty convenient side effect, since soon thereafter I took up rock climbing. Sweaty hands are the bane of rock climbers, to the point that they smear disgusting chalk all over their hands repeatedly. (I rarely chalk, not because I'm a purist, but because it just makes your nails and hands disgusting). I could just waltz up the 5.10's with clean(ish) dry hands, and look pretty hard core at the same time.
But since getting on levothyroxine, my sweat production seems to have gone back to normal. My friend points out that when I climb overhangs, there is now usually a trail of sweat below me. I'll start a bouldering route only to fly off at the end when my sweating equals that of 5 mini-hoses attached to my fingertips. And I've had to start wearing tank tops, requiring an unfortunate amount of attention to whether or not my armpit hair has started growing back...sigh.
I guess I can take comfort in the fact that when the zombie apocalypse comes, I probably won't be able to find levothyroxine, thus increasing my ability to climb random objects to escape the zombies. Of course, that won't be any help if I can't outrun them to these objects because I'm so freaking fatigued. Or I could just start using chalk. Blech....
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Swimming and misconceptions
Let's start off by saying I'm the slowest swimmer ever. Well, maybe I'm faster than that crazy lady at the rec center who wears full makeup and two swim caps, but not by much.
My excuse is that I think I'm just dense (as in physically, although it could be mentally as well). Once, while in Florida, I watched as my husband and our friends just sat in the ocean past the breakers, relaxing and floating on the water. It looked so easy so I tried it, and promptly ended up spitting out mouthfuls of salty whale pee (if you think about it, the ocean is just a stew of fish waste products...) while flailing around to get my head back out of the water. They tried explaining it (Just lean back and relax!), but whatever I tried, I sank like a rock. As a consolation prize, they speculated that maybe I was just super muscular and lean (total lie).
So it's pretty hypocritical of me to judge people by their swimwear when they're hunting down an empty swim lane. But I do it anway. And yes, I compete even though I know I'm going to lose.
If you show up in a ruffled tankini, I automatically assume that I can swim faster than you. I might even station myself in a swim lane next to you so I can feel good as I lap you.
If you walk in wearing competition swimwear, swimming cap, and goggles, I know you're going to beat me and thus I try to stay way the hell away from your lane so I don't become demoralized. Also, if you ask me to circle swim, I'll probably try and duck into the lane with the makeup wearing old lady.
If you come in with goggles and swim fins, I assume I'm faster than you too, although you'll most likely lap me. But I know that if you didn't have the fins, I'd be winning. So I feel better about my water floundering anyway.
But the ones that always get me are the people who show up in floral print swimwear that looks like something the Barbies of the 1980's would wear. I always assume they're going to be slow, but about 40% of the time they're making sonic booms underwater. Puzzling.
The flip side of this is that I've recently started feeling insecure about my swimwear. It just makes sense for me to buy competition swimwear. It's practical, comfortable, and modest...(ish). But now I'm wondering if I'm falsely advertising my swimming abilities. I'm slow. On a good day I can fight to keep up in the Medium lane, but then will retire to the locker room to hyperventilate as I catch my breath.
So shouldn't I be wearing a ruffled tankini and water wings?
My excuse is that I think I'm just dense (as in physically, although it could be mentally as well). Once, while in Florida, I watched as my husband and our friends just sat in the ocean past the breakers, relaxing and floating on the water. It looked so easy so I tried it, and promptly ended up spitting out mouthfuls of salty whale pee (if you think about it, the ocean is just a stew of fish waste products...) while flailing around to get my head back out of the water. They tried explaining it (Just lean back and relax!), but whatever I tried, I sank like a rock. As a consolation prize, they speculated that maybe I was just super muscular and lean (total lie).
So it's pretty hypocritical of me to judge people by their swimwear when they're hunting down an empty swim lane. But I do it anway. And yes, I compete even though I know I'm going to lose.
If you show up in a ruffled tankini, I automatically assume that I can swim faster than you. I might even station myself in a swim lane next to you so I can feel good as I lap you.
If you walk in wearing competition swimwear, swimming cap, and goggles, I know you're going to beat me and thus I try to stay way the hell away from your lane so I don't become demoralized. Also, if you ask me to circle swim, I'll probably try and duck into the lane with the makeup wearing old lady.
If you come in with goggles and swim fins, I assume I'm faster than you too, although you'll most likely lap me. But I know that if you didn't have the fins, I'd be winning. So I feel better about my water floundering anyway.
But the ones that always get me are the people who show up in floral print swimwear that looks like something the Barbies of the 1980's would wear. I always assume they're going to be slow, but about 40% of the time they're making sonic booms underwater. Puzzling.
The flip side of this is that I've recently started feeling insecure about my swimwear. It just makes sense for me to buy competition swimwear. It's practical, comfortable, and modest...(ish). But now I'm wondering if I'm falsely advertising my swimming abilities. I'm slow. On a good day I can fight to keep up in the Medium lane, but then will retire to the locker room to hyperventilate as I catch my breath.
So shouldn't I be wearing a ruffled tankini and water wings?
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Weight gain and hypothyroidism
A lot of people give me funny looks when they find out I have hypothyroidism. People have suggested that I was incorrectly diagnosed, or that maybe I was just "lucky" to not get all of the symptoms, like weight gain. Perhaps because I still wear a size small.
But the thing is, I did gain a lot of weight when you take into account how much training I was doing at the time. Exercising 2-3 hours a day on rougly 1500 calories a day should not have resulted in ANY weight gain, but I still gained 7-10 pounds. It's occurred to me that if I hadn't been in training, I would probably have to buy that seat belt extender on airplanes (and if I hadn't become hypothyroid, I would be smoking hot right now, damn it!)
So it frustrates me when people blast Oprah and other hypothyroid sufferers for getting fat. I've come across article after article about how "sure, it's a little bit harder, but you can't use it as an excuse!" and how "all you need to do is a few more crunches a day and you'll no longer be letting your thyroid hold you back."
Bull. Shit. And it pisses me off that Oprah caved to this idea.
I remember how after the Copper Triangle I would try to ride my bike to work, and it was all I could do to get up to 15mph. I would drag myself out on 8 mile runs and feel like I was about to die while going at a pace more than a minute and a half slower than last year. But I kept faithfully following my training plan (mostly out of fear that if I didn't I would drown in the upcoming half-ironman distance race) thinking I was just being lazy; I needed to train harder; just harden the fuck up! It was the hardest thing I've ever done. And I still gained weight.
So suffice it to say I'm a bit irritated that these people who go to their "jazzercise" or spin classes maybe 3 times a week feel they have the right to judge hypothyroid people who "just need to exercise a little bit more." Are they out there doing half-ironmans and marathons? I doubt it. And they don't even have the excuse of feeling like shit that's been run over by a garbage truck. Lazy-asses.
But the thing is, I did gain a lot of weight when you take into account how much training I was doing at the time. Exercising 2-3 hours a day on rougly 1500 calories a day should not have resulted in ANY weight gain, but I still gained 7-10 pounds. It's occurred to me that if I hadn't been in training, I would probably have to buy that seat belt extender on airplanes (and if I hadn't become hypothyroid, I would be smoking hot right now, damn it!)
So it frustrates me when people blast Oprah and other hypothyroid sufferers for getting fat. I've come across article after article about how "sure, it's a little bit harder, but you can't use it as an excuse!" and how "all you need to do is a few more crunches a day and you'll no longer be letting your thyroid hold you back."
Bull. Shit. And it pisses me off that Oprah caved to this idea.
I remember how after the Copper Triangle I would try to ride my bike to work, and it was all I could do to get up to 15mph. I would drag myself out on 8 mile runs and feel like I was about to die while going at a pace more than a minute and a half slower than last year. But I kept faithfully following my training plan (mostly out of fear that if I didn't I would drown in the upcoming half-ironman distance race) thinking I was just being lazy; I needed to train harder; just harden the fuck up! It was the hardest thing I've ever done. And I still gained weight.
So suffice it to say I'm a bit irritated that these people who go to their "jazzercise" or spin classes maybe 3 times a week feel they have the right to judge hypothyroid people who "just need to exercise a little bit more." Are they out there doing half-ironmans and marathons? I doubt it. And they don't even have the excuse of feeling like shit that's been run over by a garbage truck. Lazy-asses.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Gluten and hypothyroidism
Based on some research I've found, which admittedly seems a bit sensational and dubious, a couple of weeks ago I've decided to try cutting gluten out of my diet.
There have been some studies that show that the autoimmune response to gluten will often trigger an attack against the thyroid, causing one to become hypothyroid. Since my endocrinologists are insisting that I have Hashimoto's, in theory I have an autoimmune version of hypothyroidism. So I figured what the hell? How can it hurt?
Since cutting out gluten, my tinnea versicolor that i've been battling for 2 years has almost gone away entirely, and my face has stopped flushing. I'm hopeful, but I know a variety of factors could be contributing to these changes. I think the real test will come in a few months when I gorge myself on a delicious loaf of bread to see if symptoms return.
In reality, I should probably ask my doctors to test me for gluten intolerance. But I'm tired of doctors. And it seems that often the tests don't catch anything anyway, and the only real way to test is to.....cut gluten out of the diet. I can do that without a $35 copay, thank you very much.
There have been some studies that show that the autoimmune response to gluten will often trigger an attack against the thyroid, causing one to become hypothyroid. Since my endocrinologists are insisting that I have Hashimoto's, in theory I have an autoimmune version of hypothyroidism. So I figured what the hell? How can it hurt?
Since cutting out gluten, my tinnea versicolor that i've been battling for 2 years has almost gone away entirely, and my face has stopped flushing. I'm hopeful, but I know a variety of factors could be contributing to these changes. I think the real test will come in a few months when I gorge myself on a delicious loaf of bread to see if symptoms return.
In reality, I should probably ask my doctors to test me for gluten intolerance. But I'm tired of doctors. And it seems that often the tests don't catch anything anyway, and the only real way to test is to.....cut gluten out of the diet. I can do that without a $35 copay, thank you very much.
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Beginning
As a vegetarian triathlete, cyclist, and (one time - never again!) marathoner, I am pretty health conscious. I exercise, I eat right (most of the time...what's the point of exercising 3 hours a day if you don't get to indulge occasionally?), and I pride myself on being in shape and prepared for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
So last fall when I went in for my yearly exam and standard blood panel, I was pretty confident that I was going to get back outstanding results per usual. I was even excited that I would soon be able to rub how healthy I was in my husband's face (okay, so our relationship is a bit weird). Imagine my dismay when the results said I was hypothyroid and my doctor immediately put me on thyroid medication.
Being a nerd, I immediately started researching everything I could find about hypothyroidism.
I learned a lot, like why I wanted to die during my last half-ironman and I still came in with a miserable time of 6 hours and 34 minutes. Or why it had been increasingly difficult to make myself go on runs that were a breeze a year ago. Why it was a struggle to talk myself into biking to work (If I drove it would created demand for oil, and then sea turtles would die, and I sure as hell didn't want to be a sea turtle killer.) I also realized that the building managers at my office weren't out to kill me with hypothermia; the fact that I was freezing all the time was my own body's fault.
But it also left many gaps, like why? I was fine 6 months ago (they had done a blood panel due to something else and my TSH was fine). Was it something I had done wrong to make me this way? Nobody in my family has it, but they insisted it was genetic. I asked about overtraining, and they dismissed my fears. So why, and how do I fix it?
I was struggling. All of the books seemed geared toward people who were desperately trying to get diagnosed so they'd have an excuse for their sedentary lifestyles and poor diets. I didn't want this disease! Having to take a pill for the rest of my life significantly cuts down my survival chances during the zombipocalypse! I really feel that our bodies should work without having to dump a bunch of drugs in them, damn it!
I cheated on my first endocrinologist because she insisted I take the pills, but my second one came to the same conclusion. I tried adding iodine to my diet despite my doctors' telling me not to (it did make me warmer). But finally, I came to accept that I might actually have something wrong with me.
So I guess that's the whole point of this blog. To come to terms with being sick, and to document my journey to getting better.
So last fall when I went in for my yearly exam and standard blood panel, I was pretty confident that I was going to get back outstanding results per usual. I was even excited that I would soon be able to rub how healthy I was in my husband's face (okay, so our relationship is a bit weird). Imagine my dismay when the results said I was hypothyroid and my doctor immediately put me on thyroid medication.
Being a nerd, I immediately started researching everything I could find about hypothyroidism.
I learned a lot, like why I wanted to die during my last half-ironman and I still came in with a miserable time of 6 hours and 34 minutes. Or why it had been increasingly difficult to make myself go on runs that were a breeze a year ago. Why it was a struggle to talk myself into biking to work (If I drove it would created demand for oil, and then sea turtles would die, and I sure as hell didn't want to be a sea turtle killer.) I also realized that the building managers at my office weren't out to kill me with hypothermia; the fact that I was freezing all the time was my own body's fault.
But it also left many gaps, like why? I was fine 6 months ago (they had done a blood panel due to something else and my TSH was fine). Was it something I had done wrong to make me this way? Nobody in my family has it, but they insisted it was genetic. I asked about overtraining, and they dismissed my fears. So why, and how do I fix it?
I was struggling. All of the books seemed geared toward people who were desperately trying to get diagnosed so they'd have an excuse for their sedentary lifestyles and poor diets. I didn't want this disease! Having to take a pill for the rest of my life significantly cuts down my survival chances during the zombipocalypse! I really feel that our bodies should work without having to dump a bunch of drugs in them, damn it!
I cheated on my first endocrinologist because she insisted I take the pills, but my second one came to the same conclusion. I tried adding iodine to my diet despite my doctors' telling me not to (it did make me warmer). But finally, I came to accept that I might actually have something wrong with me.
So I guess that's the whole point of this blog. To come to terms with being sick, and to document my journey to getting better.
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