Not As a Family Swim Night

I'm grateful that today I wasn't sore after my run yesterday--or at least not as badly as I feared. Sadly, I can't say the same for the dog, who refused to get off the couch.

That totally used to be me.

I ran some errands, then went and worked with some girls at gymnastics on routines again, and then my husband and I met for Family Swim Night. I knew he would be running a little late--besides just that he's Moroccan, this time it was planned. So I spent about 40 minutes playing with our daughter, trying to reinforce things from swimming again, but much more casually, and on her terms.

Did I let a 3-year-old get the best of me? Perhaps, but in terms of coaching/teaching my own kid, I don't even want to go down that road, so I'd rather let her do what she wants and have fun in the pool than not want to go in the water. She's a good little swimmer and I want her to keep liking the water and be safe around it, so rather than make family swim a battle to practice class stuff, I caved, and we worked on what she liked. Actually, some of it was stuff she's doing in class (not necessarily what needs the most work), but we literally spent 30 minutes with her doing knee dives off the side of the pool to grab a toy on the bottom.

When my husband showed up, I was freezing--the family pool we were in is much warmer than the lap pool, but I was cold because I was standing still, whereas our daughter was warm from climbing out, diving in, swimming down, swimming up, and repeating for 30 minutes.

I went to sit in the hot tub. For another 30 minutes. I will admit that I was a bit more sore than I'd originally thought, but it was mostly in my adductors and upper abdominals, so I really enjoyed the soaking time.

At which point, my husband wanted a turn in the hot tub, so I took my daughter, showered and dressed us, and went out to wait for him in the lobby. Even though we'd driven separately, I thought it would be nice of us to wait for him before we left.

I thought it would be nice, but apparently the thought didn't cross his mind, because he was able to enjoy the hot tub, shower, dress, and leave in less time than it took us, so we spent 15 minutes waiting for nothing.

Our daughter, who is unusually perceptive at times, is still just three, and takes statements we make quite seriously, so when I told her we were leaving, she was extremely worried that we were leaving Baba at the pool. It wasn't until we got home and he was already there that she finally believed me.

Moderashun...Can't Even Spell It Any More

On Tuesday, two of the moms from the preschool suggested we go on a run together since we found out we're all planning on being in a race in March. I tried to warn them that I'm at the very very beginning of my running training and they told me, "No problem, we can just go slow and take it easy."

Me:
Ran first continuous mile in over six years a week ago.
Did said mile on treadmill indoors, with iPod, waterbottle, and large-screen TV at hand.
Did said mile at 15 minute mile pace.
Considered this fantastic personal accomplishment.
So far overdid it I was too sick to drive to the doctor the next day.
Just finished my antibiotics two days ago.
Still can't take a deep breath or laugh without going into huge coughing fit.

Them:
Way far ahead of me.
And not sick.

When one of them mentioned that she'd mapped out a 2.5 mile course for us, I realized I might not have been quite clear enough as to how early-stage my training is. I was somewhat regretting having already tried to empty my dog of her outputs, as I couldn't even use doody duty as a reason to stop if I needed it.

If I haven't mentioned it before, my dog has the (unfortunate) habit of holding in all solid outputs until going out for exercise. Then she likes to make a minimum of two (and a record of five) "dropoffs" while we are out and about. This means that we have to not only have plenty of poop bags on hand, but that I end up carrying an aromatic bundle the size of a Santa sack if I don't take preemptive measures to empty her beforehand.

Once, this meant my husband had to go to a stranger's door and ask for a plastic bag so he could remove the lawn ornament our dog deposited (since he'd already used up the two bags he'd taken with him). They were grateful he picked it up and we learned that our new bag-to-the-park minimum count was 3. (Which is now up to 5.)

Wow, a two-paragraph tangent about dog poop.

Apparently I do need more grown-up conversation time.

Anyhow, we headed out, and I have to say I was extraordinarily grateful for the stoplight and busy street that meant I got a break. They were dedicated and jogged in place at the signal. I think we were maybe a quarter mile from where we started (maximum), and I was already gasping.

You know what? I'm totally blaming my cold for my insufficient lung capacity, because I should not have been quite that tired. Close, but not quite.

As we were then heading up what I never before considered a "hill," one of them announced that we were keeping--according to her training watch--a 13-minute-mile pace.

The out-loud groan I made must have been more pathetic than I actually intended, since they both immediately chimed in that I was doing GREAT.

Me:
Gasping for breath.
Wondering why I agreed to this.
Thinking this is more activity than the dog has had in awhile and she may well end up sore.
Gasping for breath.
Wondering how much longer I will be able to push myself just to keep up.
Did I mention I was gasping for breath?
Have stripped off my sweatshirt and gloves despite the cold temperature.

Them:
Chatting away about plans for a costume for disco BINGO night.
Clearly not gasping. (At least, not like me, because they could form actual out loud words.)

I hung in there, feeling throughout my body what I already consciously knew, which is that training on a treadmill is different, and I needed to do more, even for this "relaxed" pace.

At this point, it probably should have occurred to me that I might be overdoing it. Should have. But didn't.

We arrived at a park, and they decided they were going to loop around it. I told them to go ahead, and I would meet them at the other end of the loop, which came out maybe 50 feet ahead. I let the dog off the leash and she proceeded to run around madly in circles (she chases--and catches--her tail when she gets excited) and then she found something to roll in.

I tried yelling at the dog, but between the run and just not being able to take a deep breath anyway, ended up in a disgusting-sounding hacking coughing fit instead. I was rather glad my friends were far enough away that (I hope) they didn't hear me as they probably would have called for emergency medical help.

They finished their loop and I was almost breathing normally again, and we headed back in the direction we'd come from. I made it a few blocks...and was DONE.

I don't know how far I went, although I'm guessing I ran a total of about 1.25 miles. I know I went at a faster pace--and it was outdoors instead of on a treadmill, so it was a good change for me. Plus, I walked back to where we'd started and then we walked around a bunch more, so I probably did a total of close to 3 miles.

Know what? I didn't even think about my back.

But my adductors are already getting sore.

And the dog is sore too.

Not Quite Healthy, So Not Quite a Workout

Although my antibiotic cycle has finished, my cough is not. It's so much better than it was--I'm not falling down, it's not killing my back, and I can (almost) take a complete deep breath without going into a coughing fit.

I can't laugh yet, though, without going into a horrible-sounding coughing fit.

But it's been exactly a week since I did any form of exercise. So today, when I had my 3.5 hours to kill between my chiropractic appointment and my daughter's gymnastics lesson, I decided I'd go to the gym to work out again.

I knew I wasn't yet up for running as walking up the short, gentle hill by my daughter's preschool winded me into a coughing fit this morning, so I thought I'd do a little swimming, which at least feels gentler.

It didn't go well, for that reason and others. My noseplug wouldn't stay on for anything and I kept getting water in my nose. I finally just decided to swim without it; it's become a bit of a "crutch" anyway, I suppose. I did okay for a few laps, but was having trouble on my flip turns (which I have never done successfully without a noseplug), and I was getting winded and all gross-coughing again.

So I would walk about midway down the pool, swim back, do a flip turn, and swim until I came up out of the water. Repeat. I got a lot better at judging the distance for my turns (something I've been fairly inconsistent with since I've worked on just doing the swimming part more). I was also able to get a lot better at keeping the water out of my nose during the turn.

I'm debating putting an ad on Craigslist for a swim instructor--although I need someone willing to trade, as it would be yet another expense we can't add to our budget.

By the way, for any relatives (or close friends) reading this blog, I just want to make sure no one thinks we're struggling too badly. Things are tight, yes, but manageable, as long as we plan carefully and don't have too many (or a single too great) unexpected expense(s). It's just that adding things like training supplies, competition equipment, competition fees, babysitting (since I can't leave a 3-and-a-half-year-old home alone or in the car) during workouts, apparel, and other things to an already tight budget is challenging.

And yes, we are lucky that we get to do many of the things we do get to do. I won't name specifically what businesses/individuals (since some of them do not want it disclosed) I'm able to arrange trades with, but I calculated out a few weeks ago that we "save" (in quotes because if I wasn't able to barter for the things I am bartering for, we simply wouldn't do them) up to $900 a month. About $400 of that (minimum) is expenses in things I'm utilizing to help my training.

Getting healthy is expensive.

Another Day Lost

So I completely screwed up today. I had a client at 2:00 that somehow, despite clearly writing it in my calendar, I had in my brain as 4:00, and so ended up rescheduling for tomorrow.

I was pretty zonked on the cough medication, and although I felt better, I still spent much of the day sleeping because the stuff is so dang strong.

This was probably better than me trying to do anything as difficult as say, pour milk, because the cough syrup makes my brain go 25 kinds of sideways.

Perhaps an adequate excuse for why I messed up my appointment time, although still not professional.

Then, late this evening, I got a call from the judging assigner. One of the judges for a meet tomorrow had an emergency and could I replace her? Um, no, because I rescheduled today's appointment miss for tomorrow.

Ugh, we could have used the income, too. My sister has been pestering me to set up a web site for my crafts, which I may have to seriously think about as some of the aspects of meeting my goals are adding up financially.

When the cough medicine wears off, I will think about it.

Because clearly, I can't think about anything much right now.

Someone Please Beat Me With a Stick

Because it might get me moving, or at least not be as bad as this cold!

After picking up my daughter from preschool, we both napped until it was time to leave for the doctor's appointment I finally made.

Only once--in college, when friends literally forcibly dragged and drove me--have I gone to the doctor for a "cold."

When I realized late last night that I've been coughing for about six weeks, the coughing exacerbates my back (I've fallen down a couple of times when I couldn't get to a wall to hold myself up before the coughing fit started), and that I've been dysfunctional (fatigued, sore, stuffy head, and more) for nearly a month, I called Kaiser to go visit my doctor.

Again I was glad I switched doctors as my new one is very nice and understanding. He promptly prescribed antibiotics, which normally I would shun as I hear about how much they are OVER prescribed, but since I've taken them once before in my life (the college illness), I was there to get help, and I was too weak to argue, I thanked him.

He also prescribed a cough suppressant with codeine in it. Yay, another medicine I can't drive while taking so must use sparingly and with my day's plans in mind.

My daughter had gymnastics again, which I drove her to after the doctor visit. I set up a new display of my crafts that I've been selling to try and bring in a little income and then I went out and coached the optional team a little bit.

I just jumped in without asking, which normally I don't do, and as soon as I realized what I'd done, I apologized to the gym owner and the other coach. I had to laugh when both of them commented along the lines that they were too tired to care.

Apparently though, that 15 or so minutes of coaching depleted all the energy I had left in me. When I got home, I took my cold prescriptions, including the strong cough suppressant. I laid down for about a half hour and when my husband yelled from the other room for me to come see something, I stood up--slowly, even, and yet was overcome by an . . . interesting . . . feeling.

WHOA.

DUDE.

(Yes, you can imagine those being said in a "stoned" voice.)

So while some of the "strong" painkillers I've had for my back have made me feel "funny," it has been nothing like . . . this.

Operate a car? I don't think so.

For that matter, I'm not sure I should be allowed to operate anything as advanced as a hot glue gun.

Note to self: DO NOT TAKE cough medication unless I KNOW I'm staying home ALL DAY.

I'm not sure beating me with a stick would even phase me right now.

DUDE.

Hello, My Name Is Rollercoaster

Yesterday's "high" of a good workout (and not even being all that sore when I was done) has come crashing down.

I am again so sick that I couldn't take my daughter to swimming.

I am so, so tired of this cold that drains me of all energy.

All I want to do is sleep.

For the First Time In a Long Time, I Ran a Mile

Okay, so technically, I've probably run quite a few miles since I started this whole thing.

However, technically, they haven't been all connected. One minute of run, one minute of slow walking (and gasping), one minute of run, one minute of walking, and so on.

Also, since I'm being "technical" here, "run" might be a less appropriate term than "jog" or perhaps even "gentle trot."

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This morning I had to register for a triathlon. Why this morning? Because the registration opened at 8:00am, precisely, and it is such a popular event that it filled in less than two hours last year.

I have a confession to make.

I lied on my registration.

I'd timed my swim at 12 minutes, as I mentioned a few entries ago. When I registered, I had to enter the time of my 500 yard swim because the swim is in a pool and they arrange the start times by swimmer pace.

I chopped a minute off of my actual time and entered 11 minutes on my registration.

In my defense, my timed swim was done while sick, while not having had a chance to do enough swimming prior to it, and after I'd just done a yoga class (and, I realized, later, after not eating for about 14 hours). So I'm thinking that I can take at least a minute off of my swim.

Or at least, I'd better.

Then, got my daughter up and took her to preschool. I also actually remembered that afterward, I would have to go see Amazing Dr. Amy. Unfortunately, since both Dr. Amy and my daughter's gymnastics lessons are a good 45 minute drive away (and close to each other), I had about 4 hours to kill in between.

I didn't want to waste time (or gas) driving home and back between the two, so when I picked up my daughter from preschool, I ran some errands on the way to Dr. Amy. When I got there, I rescheduled my next few appointments so that they wouldn't have such a large gap of time to fill.

Afterward, I decided I would work out since my athletic club has a location between Dr. Amy and gymnastics. They also have child care. She was asleep in her car seat when I arrived, and stayed asleep as I walked in, with my bag and my daughter on my shoulder.

I opted for a 10-time pass, which they neglected to mention would NOT be transferable to the club I normally go to until after I'd paid for it. After some complaining, they said they could transfer it, but I'd have to fill out a bunch of paperwork. Oh well.

I dropped off my daughter, and although the staff seemed really nice, there were about five kids crying in there, nonstop, the whole 10 minutes it took me to fill out registration paperwork (I didn't even get to the transfer stuff), and one in particular was banging on the small childproof door, wailing miserably.

He was clearly so upset that *I* wanted to pick him up and comfort him. For anyone that knows me, you know that this is terribly abnormal behavior as prior to having my daughter, I refused to deal with a child under the age of 6 if I could help it. Furthermore, my "tolerance" of young children, while considerably greater than before I had my own, is still pretty low. And here I was, wanting to comfort this poor little wailing thing.

Despite the noise, my daughter remained sound asleep on my shoulder and I attempted to lay her down, which of course promptly woke her up.

She was thrilled to be there, and I left, hoping that she wouldn't be one of the crying ones when I returned.

I started on the treadmill and after a couple minutes of walking, decided I'd try running a little bit. I set it just at 4 mph, which comes out to a 15 minute mile. V-e-r-y slow. It seemed like an easy enough pace that I thought I'd try a whole mile, without adjusting it up or down. To take that whole hour off of my time, I'm going to need to actually run, and although I've done a lot of interval training, I haven't truly done anything extended for endurance. (If you can even call a single 15 minute mile an endurance run.)

I made it, and actually felt okay. Not great, other than pleased I'd made it, but also not horrible. I finished with enough walking to make the treadmill time last 30 minutes.

Know what? I still HATE running.

When I wobbled myself off of the treadmill, I still had about one hour and 25 minutes left of child care time, so I decided to go for a swim. Since I still had my watch in my bag, I thought it would be a good idea to try and time my 500 again, especially since I wasn't completely honest in my triathlon entry.

I started swimming and despite my noseplug, was having water-in-my-nose problems. At partway into length 7, I actually had to stop, cough, and splutter out water.

Frustrated, I went back and stopped the watch, giving up on timing myself again.

I swam a lap and it went better than all the others I'd done, so I decided to try timing myself again.

Good news: Despite having just run a mile, and having swam 4 laps (8 lengths) prior, I managed to take 15 seconds off of my time already.

So, if I can actually kick this cold, and not exercise right before the swim, I bet the other 45 seconds should come off too.

With the child care, it worked so nicely that I decided to call Dr. Amy's office and reschedule (again) so that I could do this routine in the future. Thankfully, NONE of the kids were crying when I picked up my daughter, and she'd had fun (she didn't want to leave), so hopefully it won't be quite as chaotic in the future when I drop her off.