This Could Be a Game Changer

I guess it's official. Time to put my denial in check, drag myself out of the pits of pity & despair & take some action. At the very least get some education. I've been diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, CRPS.

"Complex regional pain syndrome is an uncommon form of chronic pain that usually affects an arm or leg. Complex regional pain syndrome typically develops after an injury, surgery, stroke or heart attack, but the pain is out of proportion to the severity of the initial injury, if any."

Sounds exciting right? Here's my experience:
I noticed swelling in my right ankle around the end of April/beginning of May. I was training for the half marathon at the time & just assumed it was a sprained/twisted ankle of sorts. Even though I didn't experience much pain at the time.
The swelling didn't go down.
I started to feel pain during & after my runs. I was using ice, elevation & ibuprofen to "treat" it. It was not getting any better. It got to the point that I had to reduce my mileage & would take 3-4 days to recover after a run. At this point I assumed I had a stress fracture. I wish.
I promised my Mama that I'd go to the doctor the day AFTER my race. No way was I risking someone telling me I couldn't run. Again.
I completed the race. It hurt. I knew it would. I knew my ankle would be extra swollen. Figured I'd limp for a few days, up the ibuprofen & get on with life.
The race was on Sunday, July 17. By that evening, I couldn't walk & my entire foot was swollen. By Monday, I'd lost all range of motion. Couldn't even move my toes. I've been on crutches ever since.
The first doctor I saw on Monday informed me(without looking at my foot) that it was a sprain. Ice it, rest it, take some more ibuprofen & if it's not better in 2 weeks, come back & we'll talk about an MRI. Thinking it was a stress fracture, I pushed for an x-ray. "I'm pretty sure it's not a stress fracture so I wouldn't rush out to do the x-rays." Thanks bud, give me the req. I left the office & went straight to the x-ray clinic.
Followed up on Thursday with another doctor(Dr.P). He informed me that there was no break or fracture. I was crushed. I had no idea what was going on. He actually looked at my foot & said, "The lack of movement & sensitivity lead me to believe it's an infection of some sort. Except it's ice cold, infections usually produce heat." Knowing that something was wrong, just not sure what, he sent me for blood work(to rule out gout, arthritis & rheumatoid arthritis) & a bone scan. I thought for sure the bone scan would pick up a fracture that the x-ray missed.
I returned to Dr.P for results, fingers crossed for a stress fracture, cause they can fix that. On a time line no less. Alas, it was not meant to be. At this point, he decided to refer me to a Sports Medicine Specialist. This gave me great hope.
In the meantime, my swelling hadn't gone down. My pain was through the roof. Like nothing I've ever experienced before. Burning, pins & needles, stabbing pain, throbbing pain, EXTREME sensitivity(I mean don't-let-the-sheets-touch-me-wind-hurts-don't-even-TALK-about-it sensitive), ice cold pain. Bizarre.
When the clinic called me about my appointment with the specialist, I was excited, it was quick! But my appointment was booked for the 21st. Of September. I spent the rest of that day in a funk. Cleansing myself with my tears. How was I going to deal with this for the next 6 weeks?! I called to get on the daily cancellation list & by the powers that be, I was able to get in at 9am, THAT MORNING!!!! Off to Dr.G.
I white knuckle resisted the urge to punch him while he touched my foot. Barely. He informed me that he was pretty sure it was CRPS. Said I should try Lyrica for the pain. Come back in a month & we can talk about the next step.
I've been on Lyrica for 3 weeks now. My dose is up to 75mg twice a day. My sensitivity is down from a 10 to a 5. People can mostly talk about touching my foot without my stomach dropping now. The swelling's also gone down some. (I learned that icing is not only futile but rather painful for people with CRPS.) The pain...is less, but still present. Still constant but not as noisy. So now what?
Now I rest, wait & try to cross the hurdles that this is presenting. Just ride the wave...

Sleep?

We're having trouble getting Cason to sleep.
Last night it was a 5 hour process. Read that again. FIVE HOURS.
The night before? 3.5 hours. Not getting better.
We can laugh or cry. We chose to laugh, with a little help from our friends.

Bike Adventures

I haven't ridden a bike in...3? 4? years. Element of adventure #1.
I thought it would be a good idea to ride TO the course of the half marathon, ride it, (so I know what I'm in for) and ride home. That's like a 60km return trip. NBD. Element of adventure #2.
Trish, my partner in crime, asked on Thursday if I wanted to go if it was still raining. It's been raining here off and on for DAYS. Of course I wanted to ride in the rain! I was actually hoping it would still be raining. Element of adventure #3.
I love to play in the rain. Puddle jumping, running, biking. Rain or shine, I'll pick rain every time thankyouverymuch.
10:45 Saturday morning I set out. Grinning like a fool. I'M SO EXCITED!!!! Riding over to T's house I spot a large puddle in the distance. Being me, I speed up for it and blast on through, laughing like a fool. People are staring as they drive by. I know they're wishing they were having as much fun as me.
I continue to swerve and hit every puddle on the way. Laughing like I'm 3 every. Single. Time.
7km's later, I'm blissfully happy, soaked, and at Trish's house to begin the real adventure. Even though my lady bits already hate me. Wow. Forgot what that was like.
We're riding, chatting and it hits me: I LOVE this! Unlike running, I can keep up, I can maintain a conversation. You mean I can visit AND feel the burn?! It's like passive exercise. Sign me up!
We drop into the River Valley of Mud. Srsly. It's slick. And dirty! I walked down, yes down, the first hill. Because if I lost control, which I'm sure I would have, I would have landed IN the river. Rain for days means a wicked high, fast and dirty debris filled water way. In most places, it was completely flush with the bank.
Then we see this.

"Can't go around it. Can't go under it."

Thinking, "It's just a 10 foot long puddle!" We push on through. Trish in the lead.
It's deep.

"Gotta go THROUGH it!"

I'm in hysterics on the other side. Of course I make her go again so I can take some pictures.
We continue puddle diving our way along. See a few people out running and walking. I'm in the zone. Love and awesomeness are radiating from me.
"You're wicked!"
"Looking strong!"
"You're my hero!"
I just wanted everyone to feel as good as I did.
We maintained a decent speed, riding along the water's edge. Squealing every chance we could. Aiming for the puddles. We'd call out "Tree!" or "Puddle!" as needed so the one in the rear could speed up or prepare to dodge accordingly. Until we crashed.
T waited at the top of the hill for me, giddy with anticipation of what presented itself before us. A sizable puddle. At the bottom of the hill. She takes off with me close behind. The puddle was about 8" deep. It also had a hidden surprise: erosion. She slammed into the lip pretty hard and half bailed towards the left. I was thisclose behind her so I swerved to the right, hoping to avoid whatever it was that she hit. Nope. I nailed it, fell off my bike and landed in the water.
"The best part about this is I could pee right now and I'm so wet no one would ever know!"
At this point we encountered our first major hill. The kind we couldn't ride up. The kind I couldn't push my bike up. It was the kind of hill that I had to scale on my hands and knees, reaching for any sort of twig or rock to help myself up. Some people may have stopped at this point. Trish passed me my bike, snapped a picture and worked her way up like nobodies business. On to the next!

I'm so hardcore right?

We *may* have passed a few "Trail Closed" signs on our way. Honestly, the first one was so far to the left, I really thought they were talking about that trail. Another one, we EXITED. What good is a large sign and snow fence if you only put it on one side of the trail?! Srsly. The only area that was clearly blocked off, wasn't a problem for us. And I don't just mean it wasn't a problem to circumnavigate the gate, the trail conditions were fine.
We arrived at our halfway point. I was tired, but I think it was just standard Saturday fare for Trish the Machine. She's so amazing.
"We could go back on the other side. That's where I used to run. There's one part for sure that we'll have to bum slide down, but it should be good other than that."
"Sure!" I respond. "I don't mind getting a little dirty!"
This ladies and gentlemen, is the exact moment the game changed.
Not far into this section, we have to walk our bikes. It's slippery and wet of course, it's also pretty narrow single track. Our mantra quickly became, "Just for this section. It can't be much farther." Brutal climbs that involved hooking our bikes on lonely trees in order to try and gain some traction. At the almost top of one incline, we both noticed the section to the right. It was boggy, but passable. Off I went. With no fear, no questions.
Hip deep in mud.
"I don't even know what to DO!" As I turned around to seek Trish for help. I watched laughter build from her belly until it erupted. What else can you do?
"Well, it's not quick sand."
So I try and make myself big. Flopping forward on my belly to try and army crawl out. Only now both legs are hip deep. And there is still the issue of my bike. I can barely move from laughing so hard. Trish crosses no problem, learning from my mistakes no doubt, and I too eventually make it out. COVERED in mud.
My already too heavy bike is now bogged down with mud. The brakes are having issues. Sticks are caught in the gears. If there was some sort of bike "treat", my bike deserves one and we're not even home yet!
Eventually we get to the inevitable "Bum Slide" section. It's steep. Might as well be ice as muddy as it is. We decide on the following plan of action: I will bum slide down & stop myself before I hit the river. Trish would then slide my bike that I would catch & safely transport to a safe, flat spot. Do the same for hers & she would then bum slide down herself. Easy right? Or I could bum slide down, in hysterics, loose control, get some air, jam my arm & land in the river. I could also not be able to get any traction to stand up, move myself to a safe spot to grab my bike. Or maybe even my bike could land in the river & I'd barely be able to pull in out never mind crawl/drag it to the "flat" spot. We could then over strategize what to do with T's bike. (For the record, this is the only point on this trip, heck, in the entirety of our friendship that I've seen anything even remotely close to fear in her eyes.) Just sayin', it could happen.
We figure the worst has GOT to be over. I mean, that's enough adventure for one day right?! Nope. Not even close really.
The river's washed out the trail. Completely. No way can we turn around. Trish tries for about a second to talk me into just going through. I can't see the other side. Way too much danger for my taste. So I convince her to "just go up a little", we'll meet back with the trail where the water's down. I even manage to convince the both of us that it looks like another trail! Just up that small bank through the trees. I'm wrong. Now we're full on bush whacking. No end in site. My bike has gotten so. Heavy. Everything hurts. I land in some wild rose bushes. There's blood. Maybe a few tears. Lots of sweat. And my trucker mouth obvs.
One more river crossing, this one we did go through, a few more hill climbs and we're back to civilization! I have never been so happy to see cement & people in my LIFE! We looked a mess. People were commenting on how much fun it looked like we had. We rode down Jasper and folks were staring, honking, generally confused by our presence on city streets. I couldn't figure it out. Did we really look that bad? Sure, Trish was muddy, had a little on her face but she didn't look crazy. When I asked, the look she gave me answered all my questions.
It was a slow ride home. My gears jammed so I could only ride in one. Thanks bike. Guess that's what I get for putting you in the river.
I returned, 5 hours, some 40 km's later. Blissed out. We went our seperate ways so I didn't get a shot of the two of us but Trish is my adventure buddy & I have no question we'll have many more to come.

I'm tired guys.

My Two Dads

It's funny how my perception changes with time, with retrospect, with wisdom.

I can remember my dad carrying me on his shoulders & feeling like nothing in the world could stop me. I remember standing at the stove while he taught me the secret of "perfect" Kraft Dinner. I remember his laugh, his smile. I can still hear him asking me, "Who's #1?" I know I never felt more special than when he called me Margaret May, like we were the only members of a secret club. I remember people telling me at his funeral how proud he was of me, and wishing I had been able to feel it. My fondest memory of my dad is from 4th grade. I exited the classroom to see him standing in the hall, jumped into his arms & he carried me out. I don't remember what we said, I just remember how elated I was that MY dad was there. To pick me up from school. I felt whole.



I remember feeling like Rob was the first person in the world to treat me like a person. Not a child. I remember dancing with him. He was the first person to take me to a bar, in Trail of all places. Rob taught me how to cook, how to water ski and he attempted to teach me how to spit and how to knee board. I remember camping with him, how he'd always let me stay up late with the grown ups. Well, later than the other kids at least. I remember working with him, busting my ass so I wouldn't be one of the FNG's he was always ragging on. I can remember every time he'd introduce me as his daughter, how my heart would swell not only at his public claiming of me, but also of people's acceptance. With an attitude like mine, no question where I belonged. I can remember Rob being there for me, talking me through heart break, sitting through dance recitals, high school, and all the drama that comes with being a teen aged girl. I remember him telling me that Matthew was special, that what we had was different. Rob taught me to never be afraid to try, to do my best, to strive to always be myself, and if that failed, "Fuck 'em feed 'em fish."



I was angry for a long time. Angry at my dad for not being there, angry at Rob for being there, angry for the sake of being angry.
Sometimes it hurts to be the girl without a father.
But most days now, I'm able to see that I was blessed not once, but twice in my life. Both of these men taught me lessons in their own way. I only wish I had learned this sooner so I could thank them.

Use Your Words

Since Kiara was young, I mean just starting to babble young, we've been on her about "using her words". Ask and ye shall receive.

"Mom, nobody listens to you. People don't take you seriously."
Hey kid, YOU'RE 3!

"We don't need to have this conversation right now."
As she exits the room. Doesn't sound like me at all.

"Can we win the hockey now so I can get a haircut and Daddy can get his beard off?"
Oh I hope so. Well the beard off part, I don't want to cut that precious hair!

"Hey there big man!"
To Cason after his nap.

"Mommy, when I'm 18 I'm not going to live here anymore."
"Really? Where are you going to live?"
"I don't know. Not here. And not with you. Not with ANY adults."
Can I hold her to that?

"I'm hilarious!"

Hibernation

I think winter may be over here. I've got my fingers crossed.

April 14. Great.

It was a long "season". No outside, no trips to...anywhere, make for one unhappy momma. I didn't have anything nice to say. To anyone. About anything.

"Let's watch ANOTHER movie!"

"Or destroy our bedroom! AGAIN!!"

Of course, we had a few good moments. Like Cason's birthday/Boxing Day Extravaganza.

Helping Gma make party favours.

Birthday smiles.

We even managed to get the few times that it warmed up to a balmy -20.



Needless to say, I'm glad it's over.
It feels SO GOOD to be able to get outside with the small people. Here's to getting back to life!

Eat. Climb. Destroy.

Eat: Find something. New, used, clean, dirty, anything and put it in your mouth. Climb: See if there's anyway to scale said item. Or stand on it. Probably with something in your mouth. Destroy: When all else fails, or you're otherwise done. Obliterate it in every way your small strong hands can. Especially if the item belongs to your sister. This, has become Boy Child's mantra. Cason's walking. I say this with little excitement. One day, he just figured it out. Hasn't slowed down since. Which means I haven't slowed down since. Boys. I tell ya. Not only is he walking, but he's also mastered the art of carrying things while walking. Resulting in a fit of giggles because he thinks he's the first child to do so. Also causing me to lose my mind because he's moving everything. Nothing is safe anymore.

Pearls of Wisdom

I've decided to do a thing. You know, something on the reg(ish) that you can look forward to. Exciting right?
At random intervals (read: when lacking decent blog fuel) I'll bestow you with little gifts of my wisdom(cause I have so much right?). Some are lessons I've learned the hard way. Others may be handy little tips I've picked up along the roads of life. Still others could be internet gossip. I'll try my best to give credit where credit is due.
My inaugural pearl comes in snack form:





That's right. Home spun chocolate chip cookies with peanut butter. Like peanut butter cups but BETTER.
You're welcome.

Traditions & Halloween

You could say I'm not big on tradition. Wanting it, yes. Actually starting or sticking with it, not so much.
We went to Prairie Gardens Adventure Farm to spend the day. They have a HUGE corn maze, pumpkin patch and other fun things. I had all these great ideas for "memories". Photo ops in my head. Traditions that would last the kids a lifetime. Not so much. The corn was dead. It was cold. There was construction so we pretty much got there AT nap time. The pumpkin patch wasn't a patch at all. I tried. And we'll be back next year. Maybe that's when I'll start a tradition?

Corn mazes without corn aren't really mazes.

Kiara DID pick her own pumpkin though.

This year was our first go at Trick or Treating. I will file it under "Success" and "Repeat".
We went to the mall first. Big hit. Kiara was dressed as Jessie from Toy Story.



Cason was a duck.




Kiara didn't really get what was going on. I think she may have been on sensory overload. (That and she was to "acited" so her nap was skipped) LOTS of kids. Not a lot of repeat costumes which was nice and surprising. We saw one young girl, maybe 7? dressed as Nicole Scherzinger. Scary.



We came home for dinner. All Kiara wanted was fries and candy. Aanndd that's what she got. You gotta pick your battles. Am I right? Plus, Matt and I may have pretended we were 23 sans children the night before and stayed up until 4am. Who does that?! It was a round of tired at our house.
We went out and did the door to door thing for a bit. Kiara really enjoyed knocking on people's doors. That's all she did. No "trick or treat!", or "Happy Halloween!" heck, not even a "Thank you!" from our normally verbal and polite child. She just wanted to knock and run on the sidewalk. Of course. And eat candy.




Highlight of the day/night would deffo go to the lady that answered her door as follows:
Lady: "Oh look, it's a little Mexican. How cute!"
Lady's Daughter: "MOM! You can't say that! She's Jessie from Toy Story!"
**Entire house erupts in laughter**
Lady: "How am I supposed to know? I don't watch Toy Story."

Matt and I laughed for blocks. It still makes me smile.

Snow Day

Did you know it's winter here?

Just Another Bad Mom Day

I like to think of myself as a relatively honest person. Relatively.
Sometimes, I don't like my children. Sure I love them, deeply. But like them? Everyday? These monsters who hit and bite me. Who scream for reasons unbeknownst to be. The offspring that don't sleep through the night, nap, or change their own diapers? They are not my best friends.
This mom gig is hard.
There are days when I want to sleep more than ANYTHING. Really. Vacation in a warm place with unlimited free booze? Only if I can sleep as long as I want, uninterrupted, and wake up on MY schedule. Thanks.
Some times I have to make the tough choice, should I read and play with my kids or...well we could fill this blank a thousand times over.
I was a much better mom before I had kids. Heck. I was a much better mom with ONE child! Now, I'm riddled with guilt.
I don't spend enough (really, what is enough?!) one on one time with Cason.
He's not getting the same mom Kiara did. Pretty sure he's damaged beyond repair.
I encourage Kiara's independence, because I'm lazy. "Sure, read another book by yourself. Wait, why don't you read to Cason and mommy can try and empty the dishwasher?"
They (ya both) have a gross amount of daily screen time.
Except for dinner, she pretty much eats whatever she wants.
She loves Lady Gaga.
We have no schedule.
We're not in any classes.
I don't think we've ever bought a toy.
I don't do crafts.
I expect too much from them sometimes.
I forget things. Like water cups and clean clothes.
I've pushed Kiara off a swing. She did a full back flip. *Shudder* It was the worst thing to witness and I felt TERRIBLE.
Guilt.
Honestly though, I think guilt comes with being a mom. And I want my mom friends to let go of theirs, so I set mine free. (Let's be honest, it's not that easy, I'm working on it.) It's hard. Everyday is a set of new choices and challenges. Everyone has their reasons for making the choices they do. Let's not perpetrate the stereotype that we're SUPERMOMS. Sure, there is a few of you out there. But me? I can stay in my rob until 2pm no problem. I might only leave the house to play in the yard for days on end. If I shower twice a week, it's a good one. Nothing super here.
At the end of the day, I keep my family running. Some days we run better than others. Some days we don't run at all, but I'm the hub. I'm the Mom. And bad or not, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Did I mention I also practice child labour?

To the Death Race and Beyond!

Friday morning we get up far too early for my taste. Slam everything into the car and hit the road. I feel ill. Not the "I ate something bad" ill but the nervous, "what have I gotten myself into?!" ill.
The house in Grande Cache that Trish rented was gorge. Such a good idea. Threw our stuff in and headed to the rec centre to pick up some sweet race kits. Wandered the mall and looked at some swag. Nothing really jumped out at me so I decided not to buy anything. The only thing I REALLY wanted was the mounted team picture. Back to the house for a delicious dinner and then it was off to the rally!

Dr. Death

Dr. Death went over the yooj; don't start fast. This race is about endurance. Death Racers can help other Death Racers. Blah, blah, blah. Gave a brief overview of each leg. Here we learned that Leg 3 & 4 had been changed for sure. Sarah was now running an extra 2 km's and I was only running 36. This we could handle.

Angels at the rally

For as long as I had waited, as much as I had prepared, Saturday came on hard and fast. Standing at the starting line, getting Kathie ready to go is a feeling one can't even describe. The energy of these fellow crazy people is intoxicating. Hearts racing, smiles abound, everyone looking fresh and clean, still thinking this is a good idea.

And she's off!

Kathie got off without a hitch and we quickly returned to the house to get Captain T ready for her first Leg (cause she's a robot and signed up for TWO). The first transition point is where it really started to hit me. It's chaos. Some teams are so sloppy. No thought or plan to their process. We assigned roles; at this one, I was to grab the jacket out of Kathie's pack and put it in Trish's, Sarah was to transfer the coin and Kathie and Trish would exchange the timing stick. It's an art. Lose any of these items and the race is over. You see people dropping things, forgetting to transfer an item, leaving without poles. There's people crying (ya it's usually me) and soloists, well soloists are a whole different breed. The set up they have just boggles the mind. Gels, salt tabs, food, shoes, socks, clothes everything pre-sorted and packaged for quick access. They'll have an entire support team around them. One to change shoes and deal with blisters. One to feed. Another to fill water and always someone talking to them. These men and women are heroes. Soloists and the people who are there to support them, both are huge undertakings. Hat's off.
Waiting for your racer to come in is a strange mix of fear and excitement. With every minute that ticks off, you get a little more worried. Did something go wrong? Is she okay? In the back of my mind, I know that every minute they take, is a minute less I have to get up and over a mountain.
Kathie rounds the corner looking GOOD. Tears start. I run to get Trish ready. "Holy shit, this is really happening!" BAM! Kathie's in, Trish is gone. Now it's that much closer to my turn. Sweet baby jesus.

Quick team photo before Trish climbs two mountains.

Kathie recaps her Leg for us. She ROCKED it! Said it was one of her best runs EVER. Pretty sure also put up a PB. So proud of her. She has been such a pillar of strength and inspiration throughout this entire process. Battling numerous physical issues and still putting in the miles. Always something good to say, a laugh to share, a story to tell.
Kathie, you're amazing and I love you. I am so proud of all that you are and all that you've done. Thank you for everything you've shared. For everything you've taught me. For just being awesomer.

Matt and I take Sarah to the transition point to meet Trish. Waiting was KILLER. Sarah handled it SO WELL. I was getting all nervous, anxious and weird but she was totally calm, cool and collected.

Totally calm, waiting for Trish.

We all misjudged Trish's time so we were there for awhile. Better us than her right? I had more of a role in this transition so I'm sorry to say I didn't get any pictures of our Captain's big finish. In waiting however, we did learn that the race started 6 minutes late, so all cutoff times had been bumped up 6 minutes. A quick check of the race bib informed us that Sarah now had until 7:21pm to finish her Leg. She had no qualms about this. Neither did I, girl is FAST. Matt ran T in and we made the switch and Sarah took off like a rocket! Trish recapped for us. She felt good. She looked good. I had no doubt that she'd be able to do it all again in 10 hours.
Trish, thank you just doesn't seem like enough. You are amazing. You're one of the strongest people I know. A true inspiration. I look up to you and admire you. I'm proud of you. Love you always.

Trish and one of her mountains, pre-race.

Now it hit me. I'M NEXT. Nerves like I've never felt before. Puke.
Gathered my shi, loaded up and headed out to the transition point. We were told at the rally that for this transition, solo and relay were separate. So we'd see the solo point, drive 3 km's farther and hit the relay point. We pass a transition on the left. Assume it's the solo, but a small voice in my head seemed to think that was actually where I finished. So confused. Keep driving. Come across a taped off section on the left, it's not a transition point but clearly a Death Race crossing. Drive a bit more and now we're all getting nervous. Did we go the right way? What if we're late? Please don't have Sarah be there waiting. The nerves over took us and we turned around, back to the taped off section to ask for directions. It's not 3 km's, it's 3 MILES from HERE. She tells me we can't miss it. Matt floors it, it's about 6:40pm. Finally come around the corner and it's PACKED. Probably 200 cars on the side of the highway. She was right, couldn't miss it. As soon as we park I jump out and start looking around for Sarah. God I hope and pray she hasn't been sitting here waiting for us. I think it's 6:46 now. A quick scan of the area lets me know that Sarah's not here yet. Huge sigh of relief. Now the waiting begins. I feel sick. I have to pee. I don't know if I can move I'm so nervous.
Matt comes over to give me some bad news. Really bad news. Cutoff is actually 7pm. Not 7:15. This is major. I hear that they're using the cutoff time from the brochure, which was printed before the distance change, and sticking to it. Sure, they're still adding the 6 minutes from the late start so this means Sarah has until 7:06 to get here. It's 6:52. 13 minutes. If only we had a way to tell her! My hero of a husband decides to do just that. He runs out as far as he legally can to let her know as soon as he sees her. Meanwhile, Kathie and I are waiting, stomachs turning for our sweet Sarbear to come around the corner. I'm keeping one ear on the volunteers, trying to hear if they're going to cut people off. My fingers are still crossed that the 7:06 rumour is just that. A nasty rumour. I've checked my bib again, it says 7:15. I'm holding tight to this fact with two hands. 7:01 rolls by and they are still letting people continue. A soloist comes in at 7:07. They tell him his race is over. My Death Race dreams have been crushed. He's PISSED. Clearly he had been pacing himself with the 7:15 in mind. I can't see Matt to let him know. I don't have the heart to tell Kathie just yet so I sit with it. In a porta-potty. With my tears. As I'm walking back, I see Matt come running in. Yes, running. In his flippy floppies. "What are you doing?! Let's go!" I just shrug and shake my head. The look on his face kills me. He knows how much I've put into this. How long I've been looking forward to it. I get there in time to see Sarah time in. In time to see them tell her that her race is over. Crushed is the first thing that comes to mind. I walk over and hold her. Let her know that it's not her fault. Tell her to not let some politics take away from what she just did.
Sarah ran the race of her LIFE. She added 2 km's and beat her PB by almost a full 10 minutes. Matt said watching her bust out that last little bit was inspiring. I'm sad I missed it. I hear it was full on, balls out SPEED. She timed in at 7:13. Didn't even need the extra 6 minutes.

Epic finish.

Sarah, you are truly amazing. How you can train, work full time and deal with a sweet and active little man is an inspiration. Thank you for your unwavering support. I'm so proud of all you've accomplished. Love you long time.

My weekend didn't exactly turn out as planned. I think we were all pretty emotional for the rest of it. I drank a jug o' wine (Thanks Ma!!!) with a little help from my Angels. Still though, all things happen for a reason and maybe one day I'll know what that reason is.

Drinking at the finish line. Cause I'm classy like that.

My girls are incredible. I feel so blessed to have gone through this process with them. I knew when I started this that it was about the journey, not the destination. I still got some lifetime friends, still grew my love for trail running, still learned so much about myself and my limits. Being able to say "I'm a Death Racer" wouldn't change any of that. Sure, I'm disappointed. It's still too raw for me to say what I'll do next. Is the Death Race dead to me? Do I want to try again? When? What Leg? So many questions that will only be answered in time.
Regardless, I say Thank You. To my team: Each of you holds a special place in my heart forever. "Thank you" and "I love you" will fall short every time. I've learned so much about myself through each of you.
To my family: Thank you for your support, your never faltering faith in me. When the road got rough, your confidence pushed me through.
To my friends: Thank you for listening to me go on about this for the last 7 months. For taking an interest in my training and supporting me with your thoughts, words and actions. I couldn't be here without all of you.
To my amazing Dr. McDreamy husband: I love you so much. Thank you for all of your support throughout this entire ride. For taking on more at home, for letting me sleep through the night, for pushing me out of bed or out the door as I'm growling at you. Thank you for never questioning my ability to do this. For being a pillar of strength. For picking me up when I fell. Thank you for being there. Thank you for the integral role you played this past weekend. Your knowledge, guidance and words of encouragement will never be forgotten. I love you.

He's allowed to be tired, he ran more than me!

From There to Here

Seven months ago, Cason was born. Best Boxing Day EVER!
Since then, he's had almost four teeth come in, started solid food, said "mama" and "dada". He's rolling and crawling, holding his own bottle and growing at a rate that blows my mind.

Within the first minute of 2010, I had registered myself for the Canadian Death Race.
February 15 was my very first run. Clocked in at a whopping 19 minutes. A hard 19 minutes at that.
I've gone from running 19 minutes around the block, to running 21 km's of trail. From knowing very little about this "sport" to reading about different techniques weekly.
Now, I'm 5 sleeps away from calling myself a "Death Racer". One week away from finishing what I started. 6 days from completing the biggest personal goal I've ever set.
I'm nervous and excited. My mental game is starting to crack with anticipation. It's hard to focus on anything for any amount of time. I've got lists all over the place, gear, food, training logs. Now I just need to slow down, let my body do what I've trained it to do.

"The mind is the limit. We know that it is not the body. As long as the mind can envision the fact that you can do something, you can do it- as long as you really believe 100%. It’s all mind over matter."

Go like hell.

Conversations with Kiara

Me:"Kiara, we can't sit on people."
Kiara:"Don't sit on Teiryn mom?"
Me:"You can't sit on Teiryn or Cason. You can't sit on anyone. You could hurt them."
Kiara:"Only adults mom?"
Me:"Yes, you can sit on adults."
Kiara:"And rabbits mom? Sit on rabbits?"
Me:"Noooo, I don't think that's a good idea either. Only adults."
Kiara:"Rattles?"
Me:"No rattles."
Kiara:"Maybe next time? Maybe later?"
Me:"No"
Kiara:"Maybe go for a drive and see the rattles later mom?"
Me:"Um, maybe not?"
Kiara:"Ok"

Scared of the Dark

I'm scared of the dark.
And the wilderness.
I have no idea what possessed me to run SOLO at 11:30pm on a Friday night.
Clearly, I am not normal.
I will be finishing Leg 4 in the dark. The wee morning hours. So, natch, I want to get in a few night runs. Plus I did some reading on the subject and people warned of getting motion sickness when running with the headlamp. This didn't even occur to me.
I'm also scared of puking.
I was excited all day. Until about 10:45. Then the nerves kicked in. And I tried to come up with a good reason not to. Unforch, 38 km's over a mountain in 20 some days kept winning. Balls.
Only car in the lot. Good? Bad? Nervous. Set out up the first hill.
"Ok. I can do this."
A CRAZY storm had just past and everything was wet, muddy, felt like running on water covered plastic but that's what poles are for right? Thought I heard strange noises at the top. Stopped. Looked around. Got my RUN on. I had an idea running scared would increase my speed.
I was doing it!
Running in the dark!
In the wilderness!
And not being eaten!
Awesome!
Heard it again. Now I'm freaked out. There's got to be someone behind me. I can't see the parking lot.
"What if they've been waiting the whole night for some stupid girl to come out here by herself?! WHAT IF I'M THAT GIRL!?"
Know what it was? The massive power lines above me. When nothing else is going on, they make strange noises that I'm not used to. Lames mcplanes.
Running with the headlamp wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I'll try it next time without a hat. Those 2 feet right in front of you make a difference.
I was super tense. My toe hurt. (Cause I broke it. Sweet.) And I was SCARED. Did not want to be out there by myself. Plus, I decided it was dangerous. All muddy and stuff. So I bailed. Headed home after 20 minutes. Turned right around and booked it through a field cause I heard a noise.
"Fuck THIS!"
I was out.
So glad I'm not doing Leg 5. So. Glad.

Conversations with Kiara

Me:"Kiara, do you know that I love you more than there is water in the ocean? I love you bigger than mountains!"
Kiara:"Rocks mom?"
Me:"I love you more than there are rocks in the WORLD!"
Kiara:"Yep. Two rocks."

What am I doing?!

Last night we gave Cason his first round of "real" food.

It's been a pretty rough couple of days around here so I had the secret intention of it helping him sleep. Lord knows I like to keep my babies babies as long as possible. Alas, it failed. Well the sleep part anyway. Cason LOVED his sweet potatoes. Grabbed the spoon right out of my hand! His motor skills are so much more developed then Kiara's were at this point.



Decided to forgo training last night so I could get some sleep.
Here's how that went down:

Stayed up until 10:30, barely, nursing Cason "one more time". Went to bed.
Got Cason at 11.
Put him back in the crib around 1.
Got him at 2.
Put him back in the crib around 3.
Got him at 3:30.
Kiara woke up at 4.
I got back to bed around 5.
Kiara wakes up for the day at 7:15.
So much for a night of sleep.

Falling in love is hard on the knees.

Or back as it would seem.
Sunday night I went for my first real, long, solo trail run. To say I loved it would be an understatement. Being in love doesn't even come close to what I feel for trail running now.

Pre Sunridge last weekend.

Matt and the kids dropped me off at Sunridge shortly before 8pm. Of course, as soon as I start up the first hill (nice warm up right?) it starts raining. With hard wind. And lighting. And even a little thunder. I was giddy with excitement.
Had some issues with the ol' Garmin getting started. Tech support, I am not. Got it figured. Had my intervals set for 10 hours instead of 10 minutes. No wonder I didn't hear a beep!
Bottom of the first ski hill I saw a guy clearly looking for something. As I was ascending the "mountain" I heard him whistle. Then I saw it. A dog. A big old black one. Who looked so lost and sad and thirsty. I pointed him in the right direction and carried on. He took off in front of me. So I stopped. Called him over, and walked him back to meet his owner who was making his way up the hill. I even TOUCHED him. A dog. Me. Who woulda thunk? That one's for you mama!
Carried on rather uneventful for the duration of the Sunridge portion. I ran without music. I've actually decided I like that better. Crazy as it sounds, I can focus more without music. 10 and 1's were a godsend! Totes be using those bad boys again.
Over the bridge and through Rundle I really tried to focus on my stride and my speed. Ate some jelly beans. Ran in the mud and puddles every chance I could. Over the Ainsworth bridge and back into the trees. Towards the latter half of this I started to lose focus and my legs were getting TENSE. Had my frozen apple juice (thinking this will be my post race treat?) and increased my walk breaks as needed.
In the home stretch, it started to get DARK. I didn't have a headlamp and was thinking I could still take the river valley trails right to the house. Until I hit a heavily treed area. I sprinted through that bad boy let me tell you! It was dark and scary. What have I got myself into?
Once I climbed up into the city again, I had a goal in my head that I wanted to be home by 11. All I wanted. Of course, I couldn't see the time on my watch. I did happen by a large sign that told me it was only 10:27. SHAAWHAA?!?!??!?! I actually giggled.
Losing focus, those last couple blocks are HARD, I changed songs. Hoping against hope that I'd get my Death Race mantra. Mika's "We Are Golden". And I DID! Clearly it was a sign. From whom I don't really care. As soon as it came on, I had the NIKE commercial in my head. And I RAN the last 5 blocks home. The kind of real running that makes people nervous. When I hit the front yard I wanted to scream. I wasn't ready to stop. I was pumped. So proud of myself. And maybe I cried a little. *shrugs*
Best run ever. I LOVE THIS SHIT!

*Well mostly. I haven't really been able to pick up the kids or walk the last two days cause my back eff'd up. But that comes with it right? Matt thinks it's because of my "transverse abdominal". Yay, more core work.

Love Thy Neighbour

****Caution: I use bad words****

We've had some new neighbours move in. This is the 4 "family" in 3 years. I've hated all but the first set. Them, I disliked. This is an old rant about the 3 family. Good for a laugh while I work on some stories about the newbies. Enjoy!

For those of you that don't know, I live in the ghetto. And I don't mean ghetto like the cool kids say. I mean, crack house in the back alley, bums pushing carts down the alley/street to the handy bottle depot on the corner. G-H-E-T-T-O.
Once in awhile, some smelly bum or drunken indian will meander through our yard. I feel angry and violated all at once. Not in the fun way either. Since Fred came out and re-built the fence and gate for us, we haven't had a problem. Thank god. I HATE people in my space, touching my things, LEAVING THEIR FUCKING GARBAGE!!!!

Every so often, in the backyard (attached to said alley) bums and slimy punk kids throw their garbage. Charming right? I hate it, but I put on my big girl panties, my garbage gloves (canvas and get used for nothing else) and pick it up. It's usually nothing too major and along the back fence. Rude, disrespectful and ignorant but I manage to cope. Over the winter, I noticed that the garbage seemed to be making it's way closer to the house. I don't think empty pop cans can fly that far. I mentioned to Matt that I'm pretty sure our neighbours are doing it. At the time, it was only a piece or two and who knows? Maybe it was really windy. Only in the backyard. That happens right? Again, frustrating, but I managed to deal. We actually "know" our neighbours. We say Hi, know each others names and occasionally shovel each others sidewalk. I even went over to tell him that his car was about to get towed. No fucking more.
I took out the garbage this evening. Not on my list of chores but Matt's ill so I sucked it up. As I was collecting garbage from the yard, I noticed a pile of burnt ichiban. Right beside my fence. My side shared with the fucking noisy ass neighbours fence. No doubt they over cooked dinner because they were too busy drinking their 40's of Old English and just decided to dump it over the fence. I was mad. Then I looked up. Wwwwaaaaaaaayyyyyy up. And lo and behold, near the front of my house, is a large pile of snow. You mean to tell me they've been shovelling their snow into my yard?! Are you kidding me? I approach to investigate, Horatio Caine's got nothing on me. And what do I see? Do my eyes deceive me?! Not only have they been shovelling snow into my yard, THEY'VE BEEN SHOVELLING THEIR DOG SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Into my fucking yard. As in throwing it over the goddamn fence. Who fucking does that?!?!?!?!?!?!!?
I was (and am still) PISSED. Like Mike Muise lied to my face fucking ANGRY!! Shaking, seething MAD. So what do I do? First things first. Shovelling some shit back into their yard. It should be noted that I have a strong dislike for dogs. Number 1 reason? I HATE DOG SHIT. I hate yippy dogs, and happen to be surrounded by 5. The smell of dog shit from my neighbours (on both sides) yards is more then enough thank you very much. But in my fucking yard?! I don't think so.
You may be asking yourself, why didn't she just go over and talk to them? I've got to admit, I'm a pretty nice person. I like to keep the peace. However, these neighbours are scary. I'm talking domestic dispute scary. Chasing people out of your house with a baseball bat screaming at 5 in the morning scary. I'm not walking into that.

Instead, I will call the city. Maybe have them check if the dogs are licensed or if I can file a formal complaint. In the meantime, I'll just keep throwing the shit back over the fence. And maybe a dirty diaper or two.

From the Mouths of Men

My husband is AMAZING. Truly. I could go on for days about his good qualities. Don't even get me started on his dashing good looks. However, and this is a double edged sword, he's brutally honest. Never hesitates to tell me the truth. Having been with the man for 10 years, I've learned that sometimes I need to ask him to lie to me. Because, let's face it, sometimes a girl just wants some comfort. The following is some examples of the awesome truths that fall from his otherwise wise mouth:
In reference to Kourtney Kardashian's post baby body

B-"Her baby is the same age as Cason?! Why don't I look like that?"
M-"Honey, if we had that kind of money you could look that good too."

Because I've been running/spending a lot of time outside, I was bragging about my sweet tan.
M-"And it even looks like a real tan, not a fake ginger tan."

B-"If you didn't know me, would you still read my blog?" (Can you hear the insecurity? Reaching for validation...)
M-"Nope."

In deciding on the Death Race:
M-"Well I don't really think your decisions should affect my life."




Even if he doesn't always think before he speaks, I still love him more and more everyday!