Romp and Stomp 5K

Romp and Stomp today! So this is the first 5K I have run since January. And the first race I've run since the half-marathon in April. And the first race post physical therapy.

All week I've been worried about running it because my hip/ass hurt (thank you insurance company for deciding the doctor and physical therapist didn't know what they were talking about and going against their orders, canceling all further appointments...iroll).

This morning D and I woke up. My ass hurt and it was cold. I stretched out the muscles and got up. A little sad...Porter died a year ago today, and we are coming to the conclusion we will be doing the same with Guinness sooner than later. Anyway, we got dressed. It was 34 degrees. What to wear...a short sleeve shirt, a long sleeve shirt and running pants. Hmmm do I have a hat? D found it. Got my knee brace, and Garmin and music. A was outside waiting for us, and off we were. We parked .33 miles away from the start and walked over. It really wasn't that cold.

Porter in my hat, 2008

Since we got our race packets yesterday, there was nothing to do but wait for 20 minutes. Of course A found a zillion people she knew (maybe really only 2). They said there was 10 minutes so we headed to the start. True Atlanta form, we had chips but no race start mat, so again, glad for the Garmin. We were talking and then all of a sudden everyone started running. I guess the race started. Turned on the music, the HRM, and hit start on the Garmin when I got to the start line.

D was off. I paced A for about .7 miles, and then she decided she wanted to run faster (no, I wasn't running next to her to find this out, her feet just started going faster). I noticed I was having trouble breathing (cold air in the lungs).

This is a flat course by ATL standards...lots of little fast hills. I passed part of where the Beltline is going (I'll be dead before this project happens). Also passed the coffee shop that allows dogs as long as they aren't Rotts or Pitts (either allow all or none, imo). Apparently my friend was by there volunteering, but since I run with my head down, I didn't see. I hit 1 mile. 12:36. Um that can't be right. I am not moving that fast. But ok. But shit! My Garmin was on bike status so no pacing info. Oh well, I'll survive.

I passed Old Man. I recognized him from the last time I ran the Romp and Stomp. I couldn't pass him last time and I was running and he was walking. Go me! I passed him. Most of this mile was in the "residential" area. If you are familiar with Cabbagetown, you know the houses basically touch each other and walking distance to the mill (now those houses are a good bit of money and the mill is condos...where the tornado hit in 2008). So winding up and down 2 streets (2nd mile 13:09), and then up past my favorite bar, Milltown. I was all by myself (since the people who jumped in the race, aka cheating, had passed me). I was pretty sure the old man and the police were the only ones behind me. I was by no one. Up to the Krog Street Tunnel (awesome flooded pics during the floods of 2009). Garmin didn't like the tunnel. I started it at mile 2.57 and finished at 2.87. This tunnel out and back is NOT .3 miles. But apparently it isn't much shorter. So out of the tunnel, and my ass was hurting. I thought if I stopped (I was on a hill) I wouldn't restart. I wasn't sure where the finish was, because the course had changed, so I kept going. My watch beeped mile 3. It said 12:02. Um, no f-ing way. I could actually see the mile 3 marker, so I decided to go with that. Although I forgot to look when I got there. I turned again and saw D! That means the finish is near!!!!

Sure enough I could see the finish. I really had no kick because the cold was hurting my lungs. D ran the end with me. I crossed at 40:18. This is my 2nd best time. Garmin said 3.18 miles.

I met up with A. D had gotten a PR, and A was content with her run. They both were excited I ran the whole thing. I think a little more than me, since I was a bit disappointed with my time. I sat on a stone wall (icing my ass), and then we left. While walking back to the car, I started thinking...I ran 3 miles for the first time since August. I ran the whole thing. What do I have to be disappointed about? So I decided I like my time. I relaxed for the most part while running, and felt ok. How can I fault that? Go me!

Halloween Pics of the Pups

Because I do love to torture them...

Mom, I told you I don't want to be a pumpkin!

I'm Super Scuttlebutt!

Changed my mind! I'm a Pumpkin!

Snow White. That's better!

Look at me! I'm so cute!

Enough of this, I'm going to go dig in the bushes!

What? I have to come inside! Ok! But Dirt, I'm coming back to dig!

&#@*($&@#*($^ Hip

So D and I went running on the track on Saturday. They redid my lovely track. It is now burgundy and foamy. Long gone is the pot-holed asphalt circle that I loved. Oh well. I ran consecutively for 2.5 miles. Then the ass started hurting so I walked. Then I stopped and rubbed my ass. Yes, quite a sight. I finished the 3 miles at about 41 minutes. I was happy. The hardest things...to run without thinking about pace, regardless of my watch. My head keeps telling me faster, faster. Anther hard thing is to actually stop when I hurt. I really focused on it. And another hard thing is to actually not think about being hurt. I keep thinking if I run fast, I might hurt myself. So it is all vicious. But the hip and ass felt pretty good after the run.

Scuttlebutt ran with D. He can run 2 miles. D can run a lot more. So D's time was way off. Gdog stayed home. I don't even think she knew we were gone. I did all my stretches when I got home.

So imagine my dismay on Monday when my hip started hurting. I took my Aleve, did my stretches, etc. Tuesday, I got up to go run, and it hurt (and it was cold). So no go. Wednesday, same thing. Today, I'm really hurting. And I have a 5K on Saturday. WTF?

I'm up another freaking pound. I read what everyone wrote, last week. Being an engineer, I couldn't ever journal I drank 1 glass of something without measuring it. Same goes for food. So I know my portions are correct, and I write as I go. Since I don't cook, I don't ever have tastes. And I actually focused on it to make sure I wasn't having bites, licks or tastes. One time I had 1 tsp of feta (told you I measure). It is most likely stress, but seriously, I'm up 7 pounds from the lowest weight. That is going to take like 6 months to get off. I'm so ticked off with WeWa right now. I figured if I'm up 7 pounds, let's make it real. So I had a cookie (4 points).

Gdog is doing ok. She still stares at walls. I'm still positioning her in front of the TV so she doesn't looks so pathetic. She lost .6 pounds at her weekly vet visit. But she has also been sick all over the house, and hadn't had her 2nd (or 3rd) feeding yet that day So, I wasn't too upset with that. Plus she had fun afterward at PetSmart and in the car. The ALZ meds are supposed to make her not get much worse. I'm not sure what that means. I mean, a dog who refuses to eat, stares at walls and pees indoors and wonders what she is supposed to do outdoors? How much worse do you get? I don't want to even find out. Still she has taken up playing with SB some. And her smile is still infectious. And she still loves belly rubs. So she and I are still happy, even with this *(#&$*(&@#Q$(& hip.

Up and Down and Up

I'm not really sure what my weight it doing except going up. I'm following WeWa, but I just watch my weight go up. A well balanced diet and exercise must not be the key to losing weight.

Exercise, Al? You did what? Yes! So far this week I ran two times, both before work. I ran Tuesday and Wednesday. Well I walk/ran, as that is all I can do. But I'm below 30 minutes for 2 miles, so that is something. Wednesday's run caused my hip some soreness, so I took today off. I don't feel sore today. So I'll try tomorrow morning and see how I do.

In other news, D diagnosed Guinness with Cognitive Disorder Syndrome (why is disorder and syndrome in the same problem?). What is that, you ask? Doggie Alzheimer's. She pretty much has met all the criteria. One of the vets seems to think she has a brain tumor, but after thinking about it, D and I don't think it is that, because for all her issues, she would have been dead by now and even if not dead...as many blood panels as this dog has endured, it would have picked something up. So another one of G's vets agreed it could be CDS. So she is on drugs. They won't make her better but should stop the progression, if they work (60% chance). I actually feel good with a diagnosis because I can stop telling vets that there is something wrong and having no one believe me. It still is hard though watching this dog just stare into walls. Oh well, it is what it is, and look out if you think G was spoiled before!

We were going to do a 5K this weekend, but it was sold out. So the 5K next week is still on. I'm excited.

Quick Update

Guinness is "on the mend." She still has a feeding tube, and I don't think she'll ever recover but she seems to be happy. She did get steroids on Wednesday, which she didn't take too kindly to (hyper ventilating, vomiting, mucusy and gassy). Thursday we didn't give her any, and she was fine. Today I took her to the vet. The vet insisted it wasn't the steroids, but I think came around to the fact I wasn't giving Guinness anymore. So back on Tuesday for a new dressing for her food tube. We came home and I fed her. And made an appointment for her and Scuttlebutt to see Santa.

Tuesday, the insurance company informed my PT it was my last visit. It was bittersweet. I really enjoyed going. Especially the last few weeks because it was a great tension reliever. I'll miss K, but I know where to find her.

I also signed up for a 5K. K (the PT) told me to go for it. I just have to know when to walk. I can do that.

So after work, Wednesday I went to the gym. I ran/walked 2 miles in 29 minutes. I felt pretty good. Stretched afterward.

My weight was down from last week but not much and not what the ticker says. Oh well, I'm working on it.

This weekend, I am planning another run, a trip to the eye doctor, taking Scuttlebutt to daycare and playing with Guinness. SB has been a real trooper. He knows something is up, and being a puppy (he is 18 mos, but he will be a puppy until he is 8 or 9 yo), he has a hard time understanding he doesn't get all the love. But he does back off Food Tube time. Oh and my bike gloves come in handy for the food tube syringes. Since I'm not biking, I'm glad they have another use.

It's just Beer!

So since August D and I have been planning to go to the Knoxville Brewer's Jam. It would be our only vacation this year, as we are still in unemployment debt. In early September I bought the tickets. D's parents and my dad paid for the hotel (D's bday present). We were worried about Guinness and who would watch her. Feeding her had become a chore. After getting on Puppy Prozac, we seemed comfortable letting her go to daycare.

Then the whole specialist thing happened. Then she got a food tube. No problem. She could come with us. And for 3 weeks, Oct 16 was just going to be fun. It was ingrained in my head.

So feeding G with a food tube has proven to be a challenge. Our hands hurts; I'm developing carpal tunnel in my thumb from pushing food through syringes; we routinely get "Fuck you and die" looks from Guinness. Fun times. Still October 16!

Friday night, D and I were both tired. Fed G and we all went to bed. I fell asleep with G and D in the bed. It was about 930. At 1115, we heard moaning. Being as I can sleep through anything, I was confused. I thought it was SB whining to go out. I was petting Guinness in the bed. Wrong! I was petting SB, and Guinness was moaning and gasping for air. She couldn't breathe. D got up and she had puked in the room twice. He went downstairs and it was much worse. I noticed the plunger wasn't in G's food tube. We couldn't find it, so D got the spare which didn't have a top. She seemed a little better but still had trouble breathing. We got dressed (put hoodies over our pajamas) and off to the ER, which we didn't know where it was. I sat in the back while D drove. I really don't know what he did. Between crying that this was "the time", and trying to console G, and drinking water, we were suddenly there. We got there at midnight. I was so disoriented, I realized today that I gave them the wrong phone number (like I messed up my own). They took her back and said something about the plunger top. She tried to bite them when they took her temperature (normal). They took her for x-rays, where she also tried to bite them.

The vet came in with the X-rays. G's stomach had these big blobs on them as did her intestines. "Oh God! Look at all those tumors," is what I thought. Um no. She had massive gas in her stomach. The vet said she was going to keep her for observation, and to get another X-ray. They brought back in having given her baby colic meds, and Pepcid. G laid on the flood and slept while the vet got more of the history of what has been going on. Considering no one can find anything wrong with her, the vet kept referring to G as anorexic. After talking to her some more, with G still sleeping, the vet assured us she is not in pain, her quality of life is not bad so no putting her down, and it isn't her time yet. But had we not come, she could have developed bloat. After about an hour, G was quietly sleeping, so the vet let us go with no additional x-rays. She gave us a ton of papers. I asked about traveling to which the answer was, "Why couldn't she?"

So, we got home and cleaned up the downstairs. Finally fell asleep at 3AM. The alarm clock went off at 6AM and it was too early. I reset it for 7. At 7, D and I discussed going. He said, "It's just beer. There will be other festivals." I rolled back over, with G next to me, and we both slept until 1030AM.

D and I discussed going to tailgating with friends (I had given my GT tickets away). We decided to get breakfast first (fried ribs with white BBQ sauce!) and a beer. I got a bit weepy which was another fear of the festival (1 beer, drunk and weepy). So we passed on the tailgate. We came home and fed G. Of course she lost the plunger again. But the rest of the day, she was good.

Today one loss of the plunger, after eating. Tomorrow it will be duct taped before going to work.

1 run this week. PT said I can run 7 minutes at 4.3mph. I have yet to try, although I did walk G today for probably .3 miles.

Clear Your Head

So this was the week to get back to running.
Monday is always a rest day, so I went to work. I had a class all week. So I just sat in class and learned about project management. And that, what a total racket. I should market a process and charge for something that should be common sense. My God!

Anyway, D took G to the vet on Tuesday. We were all excited that she had taken her meds, she was eating and seemed to be better. He emailed me in class, and said she had lost another pound. Tears instantly started. I sat in the class and cried. I'm sure I was a great student for the instructor. D said we had to take her to a specialist. Seriously, again? This can't be happening to us. We just went through this 11 months ago with Porter. Needless to say, I came home and we cried and played with her. Wednesday she acted normal, and we were confused. More crying. More wondering. Still in class. Still no gym.

I checked with the instructor. I had to attend 80% of the class. So D and I agreed whatever the doctor said, I wasn't going to find out until 4PM on Thursday. At 3 he called me. All her tests were negative. They were going to run a test for Addison's. I googled it and it was a manageable disease. I never have prayed so hard for a disease.

Friday I took the day off, because we thought we were going to be putting her down on Thursday, and then if it wasn't Addison's we didn't know how I would react. Well Friday D called me (he went to work). Not Addison's. The specialists are at a loss. Another appointment on Monday. I thought about what I would do if D weren't in the picture. I would get the endoscopy as planned and the food tube. But if that turns out to be nothing, I would stop. At what point do you say, she is *just* a dog. Well head X-rays are the stopping point for me. D said the same thing. So we hope the endoscopy will find something, but I'm not optimistic. But we know our plan.

Friday night, I got an email that I passed my test. I'm a Certified Reliability Engineer. I want to celebrate but it seems like forever ago that I studied and took that test.

D and I decided not to go to GT's homecoming. The thought of all the people was too overwhelming, and both of us were emotionally exhausted. We dd play with G and Scuttlebutt outside. G likes to dig holes and stand on the neighbor's lawn.

Guinness 2 weeks ago

Saturday we went to the gym. Guinness wanted to go. But she has major hip deterioration, so it's a no go. Anyway, the gym was fine. I got 2.2 miles in 37 minutes (walk 5, run 5 etc.). Hip felt better to run on than to walk. Actually hip was fine, it was the butt muscles. We went to lunch to try a new beer, which wasn't there, so we had (yes, we HAD to go) to go to a bar to try another beer. After, we went to the grocery to get doggie treats. We watched football, played with G and Scuttlebutt, and I might have passed out at 830pm.

I have running on the agenda this week. It keeps my head clear. And God knows I need it.

We are still planning on the beer fest in Knoxville next weekend. Guinness will come with us, and SB will go to daycare. Instead of bar hopping after the fest, we will get a growler or 3 and some pizza and spend time in the Hilton. Guinness will have another state crossed off her list. The US Traveler.