Up the Butt Again

Yesterday I was put to sleep with the same drug that took Michael Jackson to his permanent sleep. Perhaps that explains why I woke up with echos of “Thriller” ringing in my head. Perhaps however they were playing Michael Jackson's Greatest Hits while I was under. I can just picture the Doc “Moon Walking” across the floor just as he “Wanna Be Startin Something”, it could get worse as later the tracks move on to “Beat It”. Yikes, glad I was asleep! I imagine it's good no one would have thought “Pretty Young Thing” as my bare ass hung out on the edge of the table. Whew...Got by that one.

I imagine the outcome of yesterdays Colonoscopy was good but it will be two weeks before I'll know anything definitive. As it sits today, I know I have added Hemorrhoids and Diverticulitis to the new me. Dr. Yang removed some unwelcome visitors but did not seemed concerned. “Got that going for me and that's ..... nice”.

This morning was one of those rare Maryland June mornings, crisp and cool, blue skies with white fluffy clouds. I went out for a short trail run with Molly but the cool air and the feeling of being alive compelled me to add a few more than planned. Another gift added to the pile of them.

I am a Gemini, supposedly having “Dual Personalities”, two rounds of golf this past week exposed both. First came “Stone Hands Mike”, a gent capable enough with a wood or iron but the proverbial eight hundred pound gorilla with a chipping device or putter. Yes, I was able to turn a low eighties round into a smooth ninety three. My second round exposed a somewhat more capable gorilla who actually made a couple of birdie putts and could keep a chip shot on the putting surface. This gorilla shot a seventy eight something.

Seventy eight something? “What the hell is that”, you might ask.

Well, on the last hole I had eighty yards to the green, perfect for my sand wedge. As the club smacked into the ball it also smacked something lurking just under the surface of the grass stinging my hands propelling the golf ball one hundred percent sideways.

Justification is a wonderful think, “I'm not taking that crap, it's the "Month of Mike”; I dropped another ball and struck it twenty five feet from the pin. Ahhhhh... that's better, I'm happier and what the Hell does it matter anyway. Guess I'll have to turn in my USGA membership but worse things have happened.

Stay Happy and Recognize the simple pleasures we receive are gifts.... Mike

Stuff on My Plate

There is much on my plate today, more then I would like to deal with but that's just the way it goes.

This past Saturday, after a really good sixteen mile training run I got slammed and spent four long hours in and out of the bathroom. This was a total surprise as I had no indication that I was hauling around some extra “training weight”. Needless to say, after-wards, I was quite sore in the “Never Regions”, concerned about my hosting duties for the F.M.O. (Fathers Mothers and Others) picnic / run.

A good nights sleep, aided by one of my Root Canal Pain pills, erased my concerns about my picnic with the day going off without a hitch. In fact, with the exception of falling asleep on the couch later in the evening, missing the end of the U.S. Open Golf Tournament, it was perfect.

Joey flies into town and we'll head up to Cacapon on Saturday for a round of golf.

Looking ahead, I have a Colonoscopy scheduled for Monday. I am not worried about the procedure, it is the results that concern me.

I'll be keeping my fingers crossed since my legs won't be.

Mike

Month of Mike Update

The “Month of Mike” rolls along bolstered by the news that tests my Mother had earlier in the week went well.

This week I savored Maryland Blue Crabs, celebrated my birthday and perhaps equally important sit at my desk today with the title of “Family Golf God”.

Yes, as confident as my brother Tim might have been, the Golf Gods are fickle, there was no smiling down on him Sunday. Though my play was far from stellar it was good enough to pad my wallet with a five dollar bill transferred from the vanquished. I am not making predictions but I was pleased if not shocked by how well I (sometimes) hit the golf-ball.

Following an ugly day yesterday our fortunes reversed with a picture perfect morning. I headed out with my running pal Randy for a nine mile run and started to feel like I have in years past, as if I'm floating along instead of running. Randy noticed it as well when he announced, “Mike you look real smooth today”. Our nine miles completed I was ready for more yet common sense held me back, I have to teach this evening.

The only discomfort felt while running came from the surgical incisions. Sunday morning I stumbled on the trails, not falling but extending my trunk forwards in a jolting move pulling at scar tissue. Top that off with the twisting and turning from a golf swing and there you have it. I suspect it will be quite some time before this will fully heal but I tell myself each time I do this will be, “One Less.”

FMO (Fathers Mothers and Others) run this weekend, really looking forward to hosting again.

Stay Happy All..... Mike

Every Thing Relative

Today I was fortunate enough to have a Reiki session with Dee; these are always a blessing.

After we finished, I met and spoke with another man, just about the same age who had a Rectal Cancer and has been through almost exactly the same experience as I. The difference...... after six months of his reversal, life is either fighting chronic diarrhea  or constipation. Tall and thin he looked in good shape, albeit somewhat tired but nothing to indicate the turmoil he has gone through.

At six months he wears an adult diaper and returns from work exhausted and couch bound.

He does not suffer from some of  the other side effects of chemo as I but even so..... Good lord, I am so fortunate.

Last night with the aid of a low end pain pill, (one I got for my tooth ache)  I slept the entire night, I think it's the first time in a year I have done so.

Progress My Friends

Mike

Month of Mike II

For years the month of June has been “The Month of Mike” in the O'Grady household.

Typically the month kicks off with the annual Mount Saint Mary's Alumni Golf Tournament, followed by my birthday, fathers day, Joe and Mel's pilgrimage back home, several charity golf events, lots of good eating, running and beer drinking.

Last year, “The Month of Mike” came to an abrupt stop; the month that I always looked forward to and enjoyed with reckless abandon withered like a crop in a drought. Individual events brought joy and happiness yet my head simply could not revel in my month.

A year later I am pleased to report that “The Month of Mike” is back ! There are changes, I can't hit a golf ball as far (I'm fifteen pounds lighter), regulated beer drinking is the norm and cautious optimism replaces reckless abandon.

The first two days of June found me recovering from an infected jaw and an emergency root canal. If I were “into” pain I certainly would have described it as exquisite, an unrelenting rhythmic stabbing timed to each beat of the heart. Pain pills were almost useless but the shot of antibiotics in my “bum” and the two different prescriptions have reversed the infection.

The annual alumni golf outing revealed Jekyll and Hyde golf swings; a smooth swing produced excellent shots, albeit shorter then normal, while a little added oomph in the swing produced mind boggling dead right to right bullets leaving one less ball in the bag. Similar to previous years, our team performed well enough to have fun and enjoy our day.

Yesterday (June 3ed), Sue and I headed for the North Face Trail Half Marathon. Last year just prior to the start of the race I “Graced” a Port-O-John praying that I would get through the race without any accidents. At that point I had completed five weeks of Radiation an Chemotherapy treatments feeling remarkably well... considering. My Nephew Matt and I had a good race yet on the ride home I remember breaking down wondering if I had run my final trail race. Now, a year later I was here again, more confident, lighter and better trained hoping to break two hours and finish in the top one hundred runners.

No two trail runs are ever the same, even when they cover the exact same ground, the North Face would be no exception. Heavy rains late in the week combined with feet from of hundreds of Saturday runners churned portions of trail to resemble well used cow pastures. Perhaps due to the number of runners in the Half Marathon (almost six hundred) the organizers would “Wave Start” runners. While this makes a good deal of sense if the waves are based upon projected times, it penalizes faster runners placed in a second or third wave when assignment is random. Once runners reach the single track trails it's often difficult to pass slower runners and you must adjust to their pace whilst looking for a safe place to attempt to get by. I was “second wave”

As the second wave started I ran near the front and managed to catch some of the slower first wave runners before we merged onto the trail. Occasionally glancing at my Garmin I noted paces from eight and a half to eleven minute miles as I worked my way through runners. Finally, at about four miles the only hill on the course slowed most runners to a walk while I ran passing a dozen or more to get to a faster group.

All in all starting in the second wave cost me a few minutes, having to tie an unlaced shoe cost me another but I ran well finishing in just under two hours six minutes, winning my age group and finishing seventy-sixth.

With a little over two miles to go two “young guys” passed me wearing water bladders on their backs. I have nothing against those packs, many of my trail running friends use them all the time but for this race, on a cool morning they spoke to me of “inexperience”. As soon as we were off single track I saw the young guns fifty or sixty yards ahead and closed the gap. Their breathing seemed labored and their feet sounded loud (perhaps indicating fatigue), though I was pushing myself I was comfortable. “OK, here we go Guys”, I thought and picked up the pace. For a couple hundred yards we ran together until I kicked up the pace again. It worked and I started pulling ahead. With less then a half mile to go I figured I was clear of them until I heard their feet. Looking over my left shoulder I verified they had caught me.... though I didn't say it...... I thought, “Guys, if you are going to beat me it's going to hurt”. They didn't beat me and yes it hurt; just after crossing the finish line my belly complained with dry heaving since I had been “bad”. Well sometimes “Bad” is “Good” and I was happy.

Sitting in the Beer Garden with a cold beer, my loving wife, brother, sister in law, nephew and friends the world was good again. To fully restore my Universe I'll have to beat my brother Tim at Golf to reclaim my title as "Family Golf God". That goal Tim annouced, "Will be a while".

The Month of Mike has started well.