My last post focused on my submission to the body. I needed to put my legs up (both literally and figuratively) to give my body a break from months of marathon training. Oh, yeah, and running a marathon on a cramping leg. Every breath we take affects the world around us. We harmonize with the Earth like a rippling lake or a breeze through a tree in spring. Perhaps it’s the butterfly effect or six degrees of Kevin Bacon…regardless, we’re all connected. By the way, have you seen this? I digress.
What goes up must come down, yes? We’ve all heard that cliché; I dislike them, but in some cases, it’s applicable. So my high was a successful completion of the Philadelphia Marathon on November 18th. By Saturday, November 24th, I was on my way downhill as I realized that running in the short future wouldn’t be possible. On Wednesday, November 28th, I sat in disbelief as I accepted responsibility for an unfortunate situation. This moment would soon become the beginning of my ‘rock bottom’. As if confirmation of the world’s end came directly to me, I decided to cut my losses and pick up what I needed to move on. I’m not sure if I cut ties, but distancing myself from everything would be the best move. Plan B is a generalized blueprint I had been scheming since I was on maternity leave with Allison the summer of 2011. Plan B always was a pipe dream. Plan B contains the plans that some people joke about following IF they hit the lottery. On November 28th, my friends, Operation Plan B was the only option. My goal would be to implement a Plan B, even if somewhat modified.
In the midst of all this crap, I did not run, not even one mile. I might have hopped on the bike twice. I certainly didn’t adhere to any of the original plans I laid out for myself in the post-marathon recovery period. Life is about change, so I would adapt. I continued about my daily business as the stress compounded. My attitude changed – not necessarily for the better and I began to lose touch with myself. Thankfully, I, along with the help of my family, recognized that I was miserable. I needed to understand that all good things come with time. There IS an end in sight'; there IS a light at the end of the tunnel (cliché yes?).
Everything happens for a reason. Last week I attended an employee forum. Before signing in, I was greeted by a lovely group of women who offered to take my blood pressure. I willingly accepted with a chip on my shoulder. I bragged about my low BP suggesting that we take bets. Much to my dismay it was high, like hypertension high. Shit. They assured me that the reading could be false based on a number of factors. After the hour long meeting, I tried again. Fail. High again. Immediately concerned about this, I had a salt-free dinner. The rest of the week was riddled with dizziness, consistently higher readings and headaches. We also had little Allison scheduled for a myringotomy (tubes in ears). Fearful that I could drop over at anytime, I called my physician and scheduled an appointment. I got the canned response from the nurse directing me to go to the Emergency Room if I experienced shortness of breath, migraines and/or chest pain.
I arrived at the doctor’s office twenty minutes early with a book to pass the time. Reading could be considered a form of relaxing activity, but is it when the book you’re hooked on is called The End of Your Life Book Club? Sometimes I really have to laugh at myself. My physician, whom I truly appreciate, listened attentively as I rattled off the activities of the past month, my updated medication list and my recent symptoms. Doc recorded a low BP from each arm as I sat back with a smile on my face. As we talked about the Philly Marathon he asked how my running was going. I sadly stated that I tabled my activity to let my leg heal. I planned to give 2013 a hell of a run, but I needed the break. Doctor’s orders told me otherwise. He advised me to get back at it. I left his office with my visit summary in hand. I skimmed it while standing in the hallway. ‘Clinical Impression – Elevated Blood Pressure, Stress. She needs to continue everything she’s doing (diet, etc.). Resume running.’