Musings of a Stir-Crazy 22 Year-Old

As you might have already guessed from my dramatic improvement in post frequency, I am extremely stir crazy and bored. :) I guess there are worse ways I could express my boredom.

The reason I wanted to post today is that I went on a bike ride yesterday! I'm not technically supposed to be sweating yet as my picc line is still in, but I went on a short ride yesterday evening anyway. Melissa and I rode about 1.5 miles up to the local pharmacy and back. It felt great! It was so nice to be outside and moving around. I could feel myself breathing hard, but I didn't cough much at all. I could even hold a conversation with Melissa the entire way! It sounds silly to be so pleased with a 3 mile bike ride, but I really am thrilled. Lately, since I haven't been allowed out of the house, training and working out are literally all I can think about. Talk about obsession! I think I'm going to go on another short ride tonight. Hopefully it won't be too muggy so that I don't sweat too bad.

On another note, I found a really awesome website today. One of my main turnoffs about the cf community (as it was presented to me) was its negativeness and seemingly low standards. I always hated people telling me that I could live a "full" life (meaning without sports and lots of treatments) with cf yadda yadda yadda. This website though talks about people who are extraordinary. There was one particular individual who after having a double lung transplant went on to complete 18 triathlons and is currently training for the ironman. Another guy raised his FEV1 (lung function test) score like 30 points by swimming! He was on the list for a lung transplant but now he functions with his own two lungs, and swims a hell of a lot better than I do. Reading this stories, I realize that I have no excuse not to live an extraordinary life...and I love it!

On To Happy Things!

So now that I'm tired of having deep philosophical discussions on this oh-so-popular blog, I thought I'd write about my current "illness": BIKE FEVER. Yes. Bike fever. I've got it bad.

Up until the last few months my 21 speed trek mountain bike has been everything I could ever want or need in a bike. However, in seeing the multiple 10k bikes at the King Tut tri back in April and struggling through the 33 mile redbud bike tour Jessica and I did, I've realized that if I ever want to get in to triathlons or cycling, I'm going to need something better.

Here's the problem: all the pretty/cool bikes cost waaay more than I can afford. I mean, let's face it, I'm a grad student. The good news is though that since I'm being super cool and living with my parents this summer :-/, I'm not paying rent. And before I got sick, I was working full time. So, that means I do have a little cash to spend on this venture.

So, here's what I've been looking at:

This is, price-wise my most viable option. It is the trek 1.2. The msrp is $879.99. It's got shimano sora components which I've heard aren't the best, but all the reviews I've read say that this bike is pretty solid.

This is the Cannondale CAAD9 7. It is a little more expensive ($899 at a local bike shop) but has slightly better components (shimano sora and shimano tiagra). Still though, the reviews all list "poor components" under the cons section while saying that it is a solid bike.

Then, even more expensive, is the Jamis Ventura Race which costs about $1,284.99. It has shimano 105 components. This is the part where I really wish I knew something about bike components. In reality, 1,300 is probably a little over my price range, especially considering I'll eventually want peddles and fancy shoes to go with it, but I MIGHT be willing to spend that kind of money if the product was that much better. The problem is that I have no idea what kind of difference components make. None. Zip. Zero.

Any advice???

Roller Coaster

The last month or so of my life has been somewhat of a roller coaster. At the end of May, I moved out of my apartment and into an "apartment" that is attached to my parents' house in Edmond. My friend Melissa came down from Virginia to live with me. Originally, the plan was to train together for the Lighthouse Sprint Triathlon at the beginning of August. However, like many things in life, our plans changed.

For the past 3 summers, I have worked as a therapy tech at a local rehabilitation hospital. However, this summer, my boss informed me that he didn't have hours for me and I would have to find another job if I wanted to work full time. Crap. Knowing that in this economy my chances of getting hired for the summer anywhere else were minimal, I decided to talk to the head of nursing in the same rehab hospital and see if I could be a nurse tech for the summer. Nurse techs work 12 hour shifts and see some pretty nasty stuff. Let's just say that I now know exactly why I'm going into therapy and not nursing.

I think I've mentioned before my obsession with being "normal". I hate telling employers, coaches, teachers etc. that I have health issues. I don't want special regulations or concessions. I want to do what I do just like everyone else. So, I didn't tell my boss about my cystic fibrosis. I didn't tell her that fatigue can make me really sick, nor did I tell her that I'm supposed to be doing a lot of treatments which are difficult to fit into a 12 hour work day. I also didn't stop training for the triathlon with Melissa. Maybe I have a superwoman complex, or maybe I'm just childish, but I honestly thought I could handle it. You see, in my head, I'm not sick. I'm normal, and there was no reason (in my mind) that I could not work an extremely physical job for long hours and still train for a triathlon.

I soon found out how very wrong I was. I lasted a week before the trouble started. After a week (3-4 days of 12 hour shifts) I started to get really fatigued. I hadn't been good about doing treatments so I got sick. It wasn't a "bad" sick at first. It was the kind of thing I deal with often, and fight off either on my own or with a round of oral antibiotics. So, without getting too worried, I started myself on the typical antibiotics and started doing my treatments more (if not perfectly) diligently and continued to work my normal shifts. Instead of getting better though, my health continued to decline. I got sick to my stomach several times a day, coughed all day and all night, and lost my appetite. I lost around 20lbs. I couldn't walk for long periods of time without feeling like passing out, and stairs were almost entirely out of the question. It wasn't until a particularly painful bike ride with Melissa that I finally decided to call the doctor.

I went in to my appointment, they tested my lung function, weighed me, and immediately drew up my hospital admission papers. I spent 4 days in the hospital receiving iv antibiotics and liquids (I was really dehydrated apparently) before being discharged with a picc line and a long list of 3x daily medications and treatments. I am not allowed to sweat (it'll mess up the dressing), swim, or work until the picc comes out.

Looking back, it seems as though I have a tendency to take one step forward and two steps back in life. I get in shape, do the things I want to do, work hard, and then reality (I guess) catches up to me and I end up on the couch with tubes coming out of my arm, forbidden to leave the house (omg she might sweat!). On the one hand, I'm extremely grateful. I feel so much better (I can even do stairs!) and I know I'm fortunate that so little intense treatment "fixes" me. On the other hand though, I'm furious. I'm furious that this happened, that I may or may not be able to do the triathlon with Melissa now (I'll be fighting for that one), that my Dr. wrote a letter forbidding me to work over 8 hours a day and 40 a week, and most of all, I'm furious because I know deep down, that this was preventable (at least to a certain extent).

Basically my ability to see myself as normal is rapidly diminishing. I now have more daily treatments to do even when I'm not sick, and frankly, I'm semi-ok with that. At this point, if it'll keep me out of the hospital (which was a horrible experience btw), I'll do it. I guess my "normal" will just have to change a bit so that my entire life doesn't come to a grinding halt. Call it maturity, call it "all growed-up" call it what you want, but I've always been a path-of-least-resistance type person in most areas of my life and right now, that path is medical compliance.

I signed up for the Redman Sprint Triathlon on Sept. 20th, but I'm not allowed to start training until July 9th. So, until July 9th, I'll be here, grudgingly taking care of myself and treating my disease. :)

Schedules and Training

Well summer has officially begun, and it brings a whole new way of looking at training. This summer, I'm working 12-hour shifts at a local hospital 3 to 4 days a week.  Also, my friend Melissa is living and training with me this summer while she does her CPE.  

All of this means that my training schedule (and life for that matter) is very different this summer.  First of all, 12-hour shifts are long.  I mean...really long. I have complete and total respect for anyone who does them for a living and am unbelievably grateful that I'm only doing them for the summer.  They also make training on those days somewhat challenging. My first day, I got up and did the elliptical trainer for about 20 mins.  The incredible soreness and fatigue I felt throughout that long day may have been because I had run hard that Monday or because that day sucked in general. Either way, it successfully discouraged me from working out the rest of the work week (through Thursday).  If I weren't training for triathlons (one sometime this summer with Melissa and one in September with Tim) I would think that only working out on days that I don't spend 12 hours running around a hospital (3-4 days a week depending on how many I work) would be completely acceptable.  However, that's not the case. I'm one of those people who has to improve every time they do something. I'm also competitive. So since Melissa is a better runner than I am right now, and the swim during the King Tut tri was so atrocious, 3-4 days a week of training just isn't going to cut it. 

Here is my tentative plan. I work at the hospital Monday-Wednesday doing 12 hour shifts every week. Every other week, I also work an 8-hour shift on Thursday.  Every Friday, I teach Spanish at noon for an hour.  So, on Sundays I want to do my long run. Then Monday can be a rest day.  Tuesday I can get up early and go to the gym (taking my scrubs to change into afterwards) for a swim.  Wednesday I can take off again (or maybe just stretch). Then Thursday I'll go back to the gym before work for a swim. Fridays I think should be my double day. I'll probably rotate which two I do every week.  On Saturdays, there is a really fun spin class at the gym, so that'll be my bike day. I figure, once my mileage need starts to exceed the class, I can always ride my bike around and to the gym before class. 

I know my plan is lopsided. I just don't know of another feasible way to arrange it. I have to be at work (about 30 mins away) at 6:45 so working out in the morning makes for a very early day.  And other than watering my mother's plants and cooking (terms of my "lease" lol) I have no other obligations on my non-work days. What do you think?

New Goals, New Motivation

It's been two weeks since I completed my first sprint triathlon in McKinney, Texas. Since then, I haven't really done anything physical. I'm the type of person that needs a break after completing a goal. And since the motivation for this tri was mostly to support Jessica and to do something I'd never done, after completing it, I needed new motivation.

I think I mentioned during my last post that my boyfriend, Tim, was seemingly inspired by the atmosphere at the triathlon and was talking about doing my next one with me.  At the time, I was both thrilled at his interest and skeptical that it would continue for any significant amount of time. I supported his new found interest but without pushing him to take any action to accomplish his new goals. Surprisingly, he's taken it upon himself to complete his goals. Honestly he's been reminding me a lot of Jessica lately. He went and bought a swim suit, goggles, swim cap, running shoes, and shorts.  He's been working out 5 days a week, and is saving money to buy a bike. On top of all that, when he's at my apartment, the kid is glued to one of my triathlon books or magazine. It seems he's really serious about this, and I couldn't be more thrilled.  He wants to do the Redman Sprint Tri in September. This is the tri that Jessica is doing the Olympic distance of.  Part of me really wants to do the Olympic distance with her. After all, I can't let her complete one before me now can I? I've decided though, that it's more important to support Tim on this one.  He's never been an active guy, and I think if I support him right now, this could turn into a lifestyle change for both of us.  So if he wants to do an Olympic distance in September, I will be right by his side. If not, I'll still be there with him. 

Tim's new-found athletic drive is really only part of why I wanted to post today. The truth is, I've had a bit of a reality shock in the last two weeks.  I have cystic fibrosis.  It is, among other things, a lung disease. This post is not a self proclamation, it's not for pity.  I'm blessed. Comparatively speaking, I'm healthy.  I'm really healthy.  I have a friend though, who isn't as fortunate. She's my age, and just spent the last week and a half or so in the hospital.  I don't want to go into her health situation, as it is not mine to tell, but suffice it to say that she was once just as active as I am.  Doctors have threatened me with the possibility of lung transplant for years (ie do your meds or you'll ruin your lungs) but they never gave me a time estimate. My friend got an estimate last week.  It hit me really hard.  I don't know that I've ever had so many emotions at once. I felt sorry for my friend, fear for her, and myself. After all, at the end of the day my friend and I are the same.  

But this post isn't about that. It's not about my fears, or some sort of twisted desire for attention. I've always thought that time should be spent well. It should be spent doing the things you love, and helping other people to have the best possible life they can.   This experience with my friend got me thinking about how I spend my time.  I just did a triathlon which let's face it I didn't train that hard for. I can't believe that I take so much of who I am and what I can do for granted.  I've always been somewhat preoccupied with fighting the fact that I'm different. I don't take my medicine because I can do what I do without it. I thought of it like taking performance enhancing drugs. Like any accomplishment I had would be lessened by the fact that drugs helped me do it.  But my perspective is changing. If I live my life without medicines continuing to do what I do until my lungs won't allow me, haven't I wasted the gift I was given? There are people out there who would give anything to do what I can, and I'm willing to waste it? What if instead of taking my health for granted, I used it to help people?What if I did things simply because others can't, not for self gain, but to raise awareness of what exactly we're dealing with? 

I don't really know what I'm going to do, or how I'm going to do it, but this is my new motivation. Tim told me a couple of days ago that every treatment I miss takes time away from him. In a way, I think now that every opportunity I don't take advantage of, every time I take what I have for granted, I'm taking away something from everyone else that is afflicted with cf. Whether that be inspiration, or awareness, I can not justify it. It would be selfish, and a waste of my time which is something I've never agreed with.

King Tut Sprint Triathlon April 19th, 2009

Well, last Sunday Jessica and I accomplished our goal.  We completed a sprint triathlon.  It was an amazing experience, and I had a TON of fun.  Fair warning: LONG POST.

The weekend started out a bit hectic. Tim and I drove down to Texas on Friday after he got off work. We stayed in a hotel that was literally in ikea's back yard.  He was so thrilled. The next morning, we ate breakfast and headed to Ikea.  To Tim's credit (he did a lot of 'prep work' beforehand) the trip was incredibly painless.  Ikea was not nearly as crowded as it was the first time I went, and Tim had a list of exactly what we were looking for. We were in and out of there in an hour! Initially we had some doubts as to whether or not we could fit everything in my sister's jeep liberty with my bike in there.  That wasn't a problem either.  Tim made it all fit. After Ikea we went to our favorite Texas sushi place which was close by.  It was amazingly good. After lunch, we went to the race site to pick up my race packet. It was still way too early to check into the hotel, so we decided to see a movie. We saw "State of Play".  It was a good thriller.  We both liked it a lot. Finally, we went to the race hotel and checked in.  From there, it was just a matter of ordering pizza (healthy I know) and waiting for Jessica and her parents to get there. 

As I'm sure you already know (especially since my only follower is in fact Jessica), Jessica and Nick suffered a death in the family and Jessica didn't end up getting to the hotel room until around 10pm the night before the tri.  She was really stressed, and to tell the truth, I was stressed for her.  The death of Nick's sister hit her hard, but she still had to be strong for Nick and his family. It's not exactly the type of thing you want on your mind the night before a big race. Shortly after the arrival of Jessica and her parents, we all tried to go to bed. The key word here is 'tried'. For whatever reason, none of us slept well. I think I ended up sleeping about 3 hours before the alarm went off at 4:45. 

We got up and got out to the course by around 5:30.  For those who don't know, I ran cross country in high school, and the moments (or days) before each race were always hell for me. I used to get so nervous, speech was nonexistent, and I looked and felt like I was going to throw up right up until the race. That was how I felt Sunday morning.  We picked up Jessica's packet, got marked (121  and 22 are still on my leg), got our chips (which a little kid told us how to put on), went potty (I wasn't about to do the race having to go), and got our wet suits on.  We met quite a few other "newbies" before the race.  It was nice knowing we weren't the only rookies there.  We got in the water a little before the race to test it out, and it actually wasn't that bad. Not nearly as cold as lake arcadia was less than a week before.  Getting out though, was awful.  It was SO cold! I was halfway between not being able to wait to get back in the water, and dreading the start of the race with every fiber of my being. 

Jessica and I were in the women's 39 and under bracket.  Apparently our race group was quite large. Nothing was really registering for me at that point though so I didn't notice.  The way I understood it, we were to get in the water and float for a good 2 mins before they would actually start the race. Unfortunately it didn't really work out that way.  I felt like as soon as I got in the water, the start sirens were going off.  Oh well, off we went!

The swim was much more difficult than I could have ever anticipated. I'd done an open water swim before, but that was way shorter, and with far fewer people.  This was really different. I got kicked and groped as expected, but I didn't expect to inhale an ungodly amount of water about a quarter of the way through the 500m swim.  I don't know if it was because I was trying to actually see where I was going or if I was just disoriented, either way, much water entered my lungs. As one might expect, I immediately started hacking. I switched to breath stroke to try and calm myself down (breath stroke is much easier for me) and went another quarter of the way doing that.  Unfortunately, my lungs were still freaking out so eventually I decided to swallow my pride and do back stroke for a while.  Even though being on my back didn't help me get the water out of my lungs, it did allow me to  breathe freely so that helped.  I can safely say that I have never been more humbled in my life.  "Why?" you ask, "doing backstroke on an open water swim isn't that humbling".   Wait for it.  Shortly after turning around the last buoy, I began to hear someone talking.  It sounded like they were talking to me so I lifted my head out of the water to see a kayak official guy sitting not five feet away from me.  "Are you alright?!" "I'm fine!" I answered knowing they were beginning to worry because of my excessive coughing. Naturally, my strained and coughed out response did nothing to comfort the kayak officials.  As I swim away, I can hear them calling to one another..."Hey! Watch that one! Ya the one in the pink! Just watch her, she's coughing a lot!"  So the message went, kayak to kayak, following my deformed swimming stroke all the way to the end of the swim. 

When I got out of the water, there were people yelling at me to "just get on my back".  Dirty! But I did anyway and let them rip my wetsuit off.  I jogged to the transition station carrying my wetsuit and arrived just in time to see Jessica leaving.  I hurry to put on my shirt, shoes and helmet and race after her on my bike.  I'm still coughing/breathing erratically at this point, but I'm competitive. I can't help it.  I knew that I was one of the last ones out of the water, and I felt this incredible urge to redeem myself.  I mean, the officials thought I was drowning on the first leg of a triathlon! How embarrassing! So off I went, trying to balance my fierce competitive urge with spastic breathing.  Sometime about halfway through the first 6 mile loop, I look ahead and see what I think is Jessica's jersey about 400m away.  Yessss!  My goal for the rest of that loop was to keep her in my sight. I'd catch up on the uphills, only to fall behind again on the downhills (Tim informed me later that I was one of 2 mountain bikes used in the race.  Stellar.)   On the second loop, I finally caught up to and passed Jessica. From then on, my goal was just to stay ahead.  Passing someone else would've been nice, but I think it only happened once.  On a positive note, my lungs had finally quit freaking out. I was able to control my breathing and coughing was at a minimum. I finished the bike (the official guy really liked that I could hop off my bike while it was still moving lol).  I then jogged over to the transition area and put my bike up.  This transition was a lot faster than the first one, probably because all I had to do was put up my bike and take off my helmet. 

As I jog out of the transition area, I see Jessica coming in.  She's close, but I'm pretty sure I can stay ahead in the run. The run itself, was not  quite what I expected. The course description said that the run course was "hilly and challenging" but really, the only challenging hill was the one coming out of the transition! It was steep and long.  The rest of the hills weren't really hills at all. They were just short inclines coming out of a series of underground tunnels we had to run through.  However, this doesn't mean that this particular 5k was fast.  I was tired, and my chest was tight so I took it slow. In my head during the run (and during the bike for that matter), I was just immensely thankful to be out of the water.  I didn't care about much else. If I got tired, or if my chest tightened up suddenly, I would think "well at least I'm not swimming".   That sounds horrible, but it really did help to lift my spirits.  In general, the run was pleasant.  I saw Jessica shortly after I made the turn-around (a little too soon actually) and decided to speed up a bit.  Couldn't let her catch me now!  I finished the run strong and in high spirits. Tim was waiting for me at the finish to give me a big hug and promptly told me I smelled.  Thanks for that hon. 

Jessica finished about 2 mins. later. I met her at the finish line and gave her a big hug since her boyfriend couldn't be there to do it.  We both accomplished all of our goals!  It was definitely a success.  

Perhaps the coolest part about the whole experience for me, was that apparently I've inspired Tim.  I've been trying all year to get him to work out with me and being the stubborn guy he is, he staunchly resisted my attempts. However, after the tri, he told me that he might like to do one with me!  I didn't really take it seriously, but since then, he has joined the YMCA, and has swam every day! He looks at bikes online (I now have a serious case of bike fever/envy), and talks about dates/goals for future tris.  I'm so excited! If he sticks with it, this will be a bigger reward than the King Tut could have ever given me (we didn't get medals =().  

Right now, we're looking at doing a tri in September and maybe one in the summer as well.  Jessica is talking about doing an Olympic distance in September, and I just might have to join her.  After all, I can't let her complete an olympic before me now can I?  

So to conclude this obscenely long post, the tri was the experience of a lifetime. I got more out of it than I ever expected, or put into it, and I can't wait for Tim and I to experience it together.  I'm not sure when I'll start training again, but rest assured, my monthly posts will continue! Until then...

Moment of Truth

Well, the time has pretty much come. The triathlon is this weekend.  It's really hard for me to believe that Jessica and I have been training for this since August.  That seems so long ago.  

I went to my cystic fibrosis doctor last week and got the ok to do the tri (as if I would've listened had she said no).  It's good to have her approval and support anyway.  She did say that I should take ALL my medicines and treatments to Texas with me to do before the race.  So much for packing light...

On a different note, this weekend is going to be fairly hectic.  I talked my boyfriend, Tim, into coming to the tri by agreeing to go to Ikea the day before. For those of you that don't know, Tim has an unhealthy (in my opinion) obsession with this store. So naturally, the last few weeks, this "ikea trip" is the only thing he's been harassing...I mean talking... to me about.   I think I almost forgot that this weekend is really about the triathlon I've been training for for so long. 

The plan, as it stands right now, is: Tim is coming over after he gets off work and we're taking my sister's car to Frisco and staying in a hotel close to Ikea.  Early tomorrow morning, we're going to Ikea and shopping.  Then we're going to lunch (sushi I hope!), and finally going to pick up my (and possibly Jessica's) race packet before checking into the race hotel.  Jessica and Nick had a horrible tragedy happen in their family so Jessica won't be meeting us at the hotel room until later that evening. 

Personally, I'm really scared. I've never done anything this big before, and I'm afraid I'm a bit in over my head especially when it comes to the swim.  At least the wetsuit is fairly buoyant! =)

Ok, Jessica does  goals...so here are mine (in no particular order). 

1)  Finish the swim with enough lung power for the rest. 

2) Finish the triathlon, no walking.

3) No barfing.