Beaching It

I laid on the Beach Towel watching my wife, daughter and sons playing in the Atlantic Ocean off of Assateaque Island. An occasional wave, if caught with good timing provided a short ride back to the beach. The water was chilly, the air was warm, partly cloudy skies with a gentle breeze kept the beach from getting too hot. In a word, perfect.

Earlier in the day I opted for a four mile run to gauge if there was any speed left in me after Catoctin training. I was encouraged to run fast to avoid the need for a blood transfusion as hoards of Hungry Mosquitoes were waiting for a feast. I hadn't thought this out too well and had left the house without the aid of bug spray. At one and a half miles I was pleased to see that I was running a sub seven minute pace and just as quickly displeased to realize that the keys to the rental car were no longer in my running shorts. I had very little doubt about the keys being found, but by who was my concern. If the keys had fallen on the paved section of the trail it would have been likely seen by another runner or biker. While the trail loop wasn't too busy, it was busy enough; thankfully I found the keys a half mile later sitting just along side of the trail. Taking no further chances the keys were placed in the zippered section of my hand carried water bottle. Except for the excitement of dropping keys I had a good run but know that I need some work on the track.

My body has not worked it's way out of a four to five day cycle it's stuck in, soon after I returned the floodgates opened up. Three hours later, sore and tired I decided to take a pain pill for relief and to quiet things down. Normally I never take a pain pill during the day, that is reserved for nighttime use but today I knew I would miss out on the Beach without it. A half pill worked wonders, actually better then I could have imagined, as I played in the surf I felt no pain in my gut, hands and the ever present numbness in my toes was absent. I will have to resist the temptation of using the pain pills during the day as I could see getting use to it quickly.

Timing is everything they say, in this case my timing must have been perfect, for after leaving the beach less then an hour passed before the second round of the “Grand Slam”. The return of the evil intestine kept us from going out to dinner but carry out from “Captain Zack's Seafood” was a tasty alternative. (Thanks Beverly)

As I sit here writing this I can still visualize Sue, our daughter and boys laughing and playing I the surf. I can see hundreds of families with their old and young staking out a piece of beach to build memories upon. What a grand day.

Mike

Hope

The car was stone quiet as we drove down Route Eighty Seven towards Albany. It was the quiet of those deep in their own thoughts as we each dealt with the news that Mom's cancer had metastasized to the liver.

A day earlier I had formulated a “self challenge” of running to the summit of Phelps Mountain and back in two and a half hours.. The trail, about eight and a half miles with two thousand feet of vertical climb would be mostly runnable with the exception of the mile up and down from the summit.

Bets were made with a generous addition of half hour to complete the run. My only doubt would be the condition of my legs. Had they have recovered enough from a hard 50K four days earlier to allow me to power up the steep Un-runnable sections of the Mountain.

After a decent nights sleep, my legs felt little effect from race or hikes already taken. I knew three hours was “In The Bag” so I canceled all bets with the excuse that I did not want to be put in a position of doing anything stupid. (The question, Why stop now might be appropriate)

Starting out easy, I figured to cover the distance to the Phelps cutoff in forty minutes or less. I managed thirty eight, inclusive of a short stop to offer directions to a hiker. The last mile to the summit has places which can be run but I held back a bit to stave off fatigue in my quads. With only a quarter mile left some indication of tiredness appeared, by then however I knew there was no need to slow down. One hour eight minutes after I left our Lean-to at Heart Lake I stood on the summit.

Standing on a rock outcropping, looking over mountain tops playing hide and seek with clouds, I prayed. I prayed for good news from the tests my Mother would have later in the day. I could not imagine selecting a better place. A gentle breeze cooled then dried me off and soon enough I was on my way back down the mountain.

The site of someone bounding down over rocks brought looks of “What The Hell” from more then one hiker moving up the trail. At the Phelps cut off I once again stopped to offer directions only to bounce from boulder to boulder soon after. The mile and a quarter to Marcy Dam was traveled without thought, just effortless reaction to vision and foot placement.

Returning to Marcy Dam in one hour forty minutes I knew it might be possible to break two hours if I could maintain something around an eight and a half minute pace. “Stretch it out a bit Mike”, I thought. For a while I managed to run hard but a nagging hip flexor convinced me otherwise. Still, as I ran in to camp in two hours five minutes I had bettered my goal.

The car continued to click off miles in complete silence. My mind wandered from thoughts of our trip to Mom..... Dad …... times past ….... times to come. Who knows how prayers are answered, in this case the outcome was not what I prayed for but certainly not as bad as it could had been.

I remain full of hope for my Mother and Myself. This journey, which is difficult, leads us to new awakenings and appreciation for the bountiful life we have already passed through and that which is yet in our path.
 

All my Love Mom …... Mike

The CAT

“Never again” was the response I heard more then once as runners completed the hot, humid, mind numbing Catoctin 50K.

Cooling Off At The Finish

My race went well for twenty nine miles, it's a shame we run almost thirty three. With three and a half miles left my body rebelled, forcing me into the woods to seek relief. Ten minutes after stumbling off the trail I returned feeling worse not better. Kristin, who joined me for the last six miles, later commented, “When Mike's not talking I know he's not feeling good”.

I am pretty sure a PR was in reach for me until nature took over. Even so, my time of seven hours twenty one minutes was competitive and extraordinary satisfying. Crossing the finish line did not end my day of running. Slow and steady was replaced by sporadic sprints to the bathroom while I waited for running friends to complete their day.

Jumping into the car the next morning for a ten hour drive may not be best way to treat sore and beat up legs but how else does one get to Lake Placid for a few days of hiking?

In addition to the legs I had concern about the drive itself, particularly my ability to make it without incident.

I am happy to report the drive went well.

Monday morning I woke to sore quads but everything else seemed amazingly happy. Our plan was to hike Giant Mountain, a climb of over three thousand vertical feet in three and a half miles. I wasn't concerned about the uphill sections of the trail but I knew the downhill's might produce “screaming quads”. The ones that talk to you with each step, yelling when you have to stretch those legs out. All in all the hike went well.

Everything tastes better in the mountains and our spaghetti and meatball dinner tasted like a gourmets feast. Even the Carlo Rossi jug of red wine purchased for the occasion tasted splendid with yours truly tastefully drinking (more then I should) out of my water bottle. It would later prove to be a monumental mistake in judgment.........

Lets just say that I will be returning home with one less pair of underwear.

Pre Race Doc Visit

I am lucky and perhaps a bit crazed.

Yesterday I had a visit with our family Doctor to discuss Pain Management, the "Main" pain I deal with comes after I get "Slammed". That term for anyone new to my blog refers to a day in which my running is directed to short sprints to the "Head" "John" "Loo" "Bathroom" or whatever happens to be available at the time. I imagine I should just buck up and take it but after a mere ten or so repeats, things get sore downstairs and I would just assume take a pill then "Tough It Out". 

Anyway, I explained to the Doc that I intended on running a 50K+ in hot humid weather and then turn around to drive ten hours the next morning to add four days of hiking in the High Peaks Area near Lake Placid, New York. She was kind, agreeing I may not be feeling quite "Peachy" as I arrived in New York; she prescribed something that might help.

So..................On with the unknown. I'm apprehensive especially since I tweaked my Achilles tendon carrying something heavy a couple of days ago but I'm as ready as I have ever been.

I would like to recognize a few of my training partners for all the hours we have spent together over the past couple of months; Craig, Larry, Randy, Steve and Dennis. I have enjoyed the hours, heat, hills and conversations that made time fly and training fun. Of course I also enjoyed a cold beverage and good conversation after our runs concluded !

Good Luck to Me and To All

Mike

Jitters

I always get a “Case Of The Nerves” prior to a big race, with a week to go before the Catoctin 50K the self questioning and doubts begin.

Most runners I imagine struggle with pre-race jitters questioning their training, resolve and for this race their sanity. This race is thirty two plus miles of hot humid hills, rocks and bugs. It is hard enough on anyone of any age in good shape. At last years finish I assisted several friends walking around babbling after the race had taken it's toll.

Why am I doing this?

To be honest I just don't know. 

Mike 

Friday the 13th

Feeling sorry for yourself is useless waste of energy.

As ludicrous as it sounds I got up yesterday planning to run eighteen or twenty miles only to realize that my insides were reluctant to comply, I was to say the least very unhappy and border line depressed. After several morning trips to “The Can” I decided I'd head out with Molly for at least something. Something, ended up being five miles, actually, dispatched rather quickly, I felt relief.

Relief did not last, so a couple of hours later sprints to thee loo replaced L.S.D (Long Slow Distance, for any of you wondering)

Around noon, I just couldn't stand it anymore so I headed out for another run, this one somewhere around six miles. It helped,  but running, while normally suppressing a lot of bad feelings doesn't last. By eight o'clock last night I was “Toast”, the seat of my toilet and my “Arse” would connect about eight times prior to midnight. I was getting sore, pissed off and feeling sorry for myself. Having pain pills left over from surgery I downed one and finally sometime after midnight got to sleep.

Today, my hands hurt, my feet are going numb again. I realize I am ahead of the curve but do not have the ability or strength to shake everything off .

Tomorrow, tomorrow is another day and probably will be better. On second thought tomorrow is Friday the 13^th. Yikes !

Mike

PS> Not trying to be a “Debbie Downer” but I think I should be honest

Good Results

Last night I woke up chilled, pulling a light blanket over me to get back to sleep. What a great change after multiple one hundred degree days and hot muggy nights !

There is much I could write since my last post but perhaps the most important tidbit of information are the results of the latest “Journey Up The Colon” came back and they are good. I can admit now that I was on “Pins and Needles” since the Colonoscopy but now I breath a little easier.

Training is almost over for the Catoctin 50K, I am hoping that time spent here instead of Michigan will pay dividends. Last week I managed fifty five miles, most miles coming from three jaunts in hot, humid, bug biting conditions. This week I'll probably get in at least one long one of fifteen plus miles and then start a two week taper before the race. Overall, I'm pleased with my progress, still, “The Price To Be Paid” after some of these runs is difficult to deal with. Even so, I am pretty sure that as I push my limits it slowly extends them, I see no reason to change course.

My hands and feet are a concern as I see no improvement, there are times in the morning it feels as though progress is made but as the day wears on my hands hurt more and my feet loose feeling. Most of the numbness in my feet is limited to my toes but on occasion it can extend back to mid foot.

As I have posted before, Reiki has been instrumental in my recovery and every so often I have an experience, almost “Out of Body”, this happened Friday. I had started the day, taking the dog for a few short miles feeling good. Later, while getting ready to leave for my Reiki session I got a headache, one of those thumping temple types that informs you each time your heart beats.

Just before my session started I mentioned the headache to Dee and Lorette. Lorette started reflexology on my thumbs, minutes after Dee started Reiki a chill descended upon me, almost like stepping outside after a hot summer storm into “The Fresh, Cool, Clean Air”. The headache was completely gone and had there been a bed nearby I could have been completely out on it.

Summer is halfway through, it won't be long before leaves start to turn, cooler days lead to crispy nights nights and I may wake up one morning realizing I can feel all my toes. Now that's something to look forward to.

Stay Happy All............ Mike

Dis and Dat

The storms that rolled through our area Saturday Evening caused widespread damage leaving more then a million people without power.

Saturday evening we were entertaining, good wine, food and company was followed by this storm. This proved to be great entertainment for my best friend Joe, his wife Mel and daughter Laura, back east from San Hose. The lightning show was exquisite, bolt after bolt providing a stroboscopic effect, raindrops frozen in mid-air as claps of thunder echoed across the hilltop. Soon, we became part of the million people without power but flashlights, quickly located kept our evening rolling on.

After twenty some odd hours power was restored, only to have it knocked out again by a UPS driver backing into our driveway Monday afternoon. We have a backup generator that allows us to power some devices, but, as I tried to complete a job involving a computer (not on the generator circuit) it's uninterpretable power supply could not handle the generated power. Damn, UPS I hollered out loud..... Kevin..... managed to catch the irony that I had missed. UPS (United Parcel Service) and Uninterpretable Power Supply (UPS). Well, it made me laugh.

All right on other matters, my training is going well even if there is a “Price to Pay”. It seems that any run over fifteen miles will send my guts into some sort of satanic rite for a few hours afterwords. To be honest I am amazed that I can possibly carry so much undue and unnoticed weight for everything exiting is some sort of solid. Sorry guys, hate to talk “Bathroom” but it's a normal part of my life now.

We are not going to Michigan this year which is just tragic, I had hoped for three weeks but it simply won't work out. Kids have different needs, money is tight and JP simply is not available. The “Good News” is that instead of running early in the morning in fifty or sixty degree low humidity temps of Michigan, I'll get to train for my “come Back Catoctin 50K” in the wonderful hot and muggy conditions of Maryland in July. As “Bill Murray” once said, “Caddy Shack”, “I've Got That Going For Me and That's Nicccccce !

So, July the Fourth, instead of being at the “Log Saw” at Amasa MI, I'll be out on the trails running a relaxed twenty with friends.

The past week returned me to the times whom I was prior to cancer, it is amazing how the presence of a special friend can make you forget the present and transport you directly into the past. This was my week with Joey, I was no longer “Cancer Survivor” I was just Mike, we just played golf, drank some beers and enjoyed a couple family dinners . I only wished the “Golf Gods” had been kinder to my friend, but with a bum elbow they punished Joey, .... until and until ..... they decided they should entice him back with some stellar play on our final two holes.

Thanks Joe, I had a blast !

Mike

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.

This and That

Slowly, very slowly I am getting my life back to some sense of normal.

I managed last week to play golf an entire round of golf with some but not much discomfort. To paraphrase an Amex commercial.....

Toilet Paper, Baby Wipes and Extra Underwear in Golf Bag
Not having to use them ........................................... Priceless

Bad days still occur but they typically are less intense and somewhat more predictable.

Running is becoming a pure joy even if endurance still is somewhat of a problem. I am astounded by some of my training runs, I am not able to keep up with the strongest runners but I am beginning to hold my own. I have been tackling some difficult trail loops with good verticals and I'm seeing it pay off. I am also forcing myself (reluctantly) to run faster downhill. (My nemesis) I ran a seven mile loop yesterday afternoon, on wet slick trails, (after a hard five miler in the morning) averaging  just over nine minutes per mile.

Pain still haunts me in the areas of my incisions and in my "arrse" but it's typically a nuisance, fingertips are still sore but my feet, my feet have become my new body barometer !

To give you an idea, when I wake up I can almost feel all of my toes. I stand up and think, "Wow there they are!". I get up, sometimes take Patrick to work, return home to coffee and an English Muffin slathered in Peanut Butter (my new morning staple) just in time to escort Maggie to the bus. After Norm whisks Maggie away I come back to the house or the office to start my day. At this point my feet are still happy, responsive and kind.

Most mornings lack stress, (I imagine a benefit of a business running at half speed) yet a single phone call, an email from a client, perhaps impatient about delivery can send my feet to the "buzz zone". There are times that my feet will "Tell Me" I'm in stress even when I don't realize it. Take this evening, I was relaxed, my feet had been good to me all day even with an eight mile trail run. Time to take the kids to driving school ! Ut Oh, Maggie drove, quite frankly doing very well. No white knuckles but by the time I returned home most of my toes and the bottoms of both feet felt the heat and went asleep.

Now if I could bottle this kind of noticeable response how many lives could be changed ! Feeling stress that you could not otherwise notice.

I saw Mom on Friday when she came home, she looked great, as if nothing had even happened, this spoke volumes about who she is ad how damn lucky I am to be her son.

Mike





,


I

Check Ups

Today is Maggie's Seventeenth Birthday, I am amazed how she could have grown up so fast while other aspects of our life seem to pass so slowly. Happy Birthday Maggie, even though your are growing up you'll always be Mom and Dad's little girl.

Monday and Tuesday were Doctor days with follow ups with Doctor Goldstein and Doctor Yang, I'll see Doctor Berg at the end of the month to complete my three month follow up. My blood work came back with everything looking good but the test for cancer markers won't be back for several days. Both Doctors told me how well I'm doing and that my recovery is ahead of the norm. Neither felt that the pain I'm having lower in my side was anything to be concerned about, probably just scar tissue as I suspected. Upon telling Doctor Goldstein that I first injured it hitting a golf ball he simple looked at me and said, “Mike, you are a surgeon's nightmare.”

I logged forty six and a half miles of running last week, the best training week I've had in over a year. The week was capped off with a ten and a half mile, three hill run including twenty three hundred feet of vertical climbing. The miles were good but I am encouraged since my energy level remained high throughout the week.

The rest of my recovery keeps slogging along at a tortoise pace, during one run last week I felt some pain in my toes only to have them dose off to the half awake state they have been in for months. My hands are getting better with only my fingertips having any continuous sensitivity. And “Downstairs”, well lets just say I'm calling the broker to double up my investment in Charmin.

This past Saturday I went to photograph a T-Ball game, our UPS Driver is a coach. What a riot, I had forgotten how much fun those days were. Watching the kids do almost everything except playing baseball made me laugh.

My brother Tim will be bringing Mom and Dad home on Friday. I am planning on heading up there for the evening to welcome them back. 

The Mountain Laurel is Blooming Early. Sure will be pretty around here very soon.

Mike 

Greenwood Furnance

Oh Lord, what was I thinking, just ate half of a huge bag of Peanuts before looking at the label. So much fiber in those delicious morsels. To add to the equation I have the habit of eating some of the shells as well. Looks like another twenty four to forty eight hours of “fun” ahead.

This past weekend I ran in the Greenwood Furnace Trail Challenge , a tough but fun race of just over twelve miles with two good climbs of twelve hundred and thirteen hundred vertical feet. The course is a figure eight, with runners climbing the same Mountain from two different directions. Of course uphills mean downhills and this race did not disappoint. The first descent in particular was steep, rocky and very technical, I am sure that once again I may have been slower on that descent then it's ascent. Once down in the valley, no longer cursing the trail, I ran along streams and ruler straight hundred foot popular trees in an old growth forest. If I thought that was something special it was soon an afterthought as I and my fellow runners entered a Rhododendron forest. For about a mile there were times you felt as if you were running through a tunnel of these magnificent shrubs. It might be worth a trip just to walk through this in bloom later in the summer.

As I exited the Rhododendron Forest, I knew the second climb would be “interesting”. A couple of runners had made passing comments but my initial impression was, “Not Too Bad at All”, until, looking up after a few minutes, the impression changed to, “Oh Crap”. What was ahead looked steep, steep and forever.

To be honest, I don't mind these sections, I have a mile of trail near my home (TV Trail) that is steep rocky and nasty. It's about a nine hundred foot vertical climb that I often join with a six hundred effort

to make for a great hill workout. Hopefully I'll be up for doing “Doubles” by the end of this month.

Reaching the summit the second time I started having pain two inches below and to the right of my belly button. I am almost sure this is torn scar tissue in an incision area so I'm not terribly concerned except for the fact that it really hurts.

With three to four miles to go, most of it downhill I was getting passed by those I had passed on the second climb. With about a mile left I “Heard the Footsteps” and let someone much less my senior pass me.

Just a quarter mile to go and we are off the trail, on a flat road to the finish. My “Friend”, the last guy to pass me is only fifty yards ahead. I feel great, not a bit tired or sore so I close the gap. To be honest I have no intent on passing him but he doesn't know that. On his heels, with a couple hundred yards to go I spoke up, “You don't want an old guy passing you at the finish, do you?”. He picked up his pace. With one hundred yards left, “Not good enough, I've got another gear left, kick it in !”

We were almost sprinting at the finish, to be honest I think I had one more gear. The run complete, my new friend reached out his hand and said, “Great Run”. This is what I love about trail running, it's not about winning or loosing it's about the journey and having fun.

If only the journey home could have matched the run. Withing three or four minutes of getting into the car for the return home, my guts were in turmoil. It was a long ride home and a bad evening which led me to missing a recital that Maggie was in.

Not everything is as I would have it, progress is slow but it's progress. 

Mike

May 1st

May 1^st , so begins the month of follow up testing and Dr. appointments.

My recovery in some ways has exceeded expectations, yet, I am in a funk this past week, the soreness of my hands and the numbness in my feet have been difficult to deal with. My right side, two inches below and to the right of my belly button hurts, most likely to playing golf and tugging some scar tissue at an incision site. My arms and chest are sore from weightlifting along with my “Bum” from a serious bathroom night and morning. Last night, helping at a Kids Track Program, I did warm ups with one hand firmly pressed into my side as if to stop a massive bleeding.

A smart person, yes a smart person would probably come to the conclusion that perhaps he or she should abstain from potentially injurious activities . I doubt and hope I never get that smart.

So much I should write about but I just don't feel like doing it, simple thanks instead.

For my Mom, her strength and courage have lead her though her ordeal

For Maggie, once again a Star Performer, wonderful play dear

For Patrick, congrats on the job and your first semester at Shepherdstown

For Kevin, thank you for helping out your Grandfather

For Dee and Lorette and the Docs

For Joe whose calls always make my day

Finally, to Susan who is always there with me.

Mike

PS> Couldn't help myself, a 21:20 5K this past weekend. The New “Skinny O'Grady”

Nine Holes

I am always amazed how my mind can wander during a Reiki session. This past Friday, within minutes of starting my session I found myself standing with a Golf Club in my hand hitting a pure shot. The picture eventually faded away but since I was heading up to Mom and Dad's for lawn cutting duty I threw the clubs in the car, perhaps I had been sent a message.

A pure shot, for those of you who don't play golf, often is unassuming, it is also rare. The pure shot is the culmination of mind and body working in perfect harmony and often effortless.

It was five forty five when I locked up the house, I was tired, sneezing from grass / pollen and counting reasons to drive directly home. As I neared the entrance to Cacapon State Park my hands pulled and my foot tapped the brakes for the turn. “Well, I'll just take a look,” I told myself.

No one, no one on the first tee or hardly anyone on the whole darn course for that matter. It was only a few minutes after six and I was going down, hook, line and sinker.

I'd like to say that the first swing was the realization of my Reiki vision but a quick snap hook into an awaiting bunker was not the vision in mind. Besides that, it hurt, really hurt and I wondered if I should walk away. Somewhere, two inches below my belly button and one inch to the right something declared that it did not like golf.

Just Great, my side hurts and I've got a bad lie in the bunker. “No problem, easy swing, just get it out”, was my thought process. Again, form does not match vision as I top the ball, dribbling it through the bunker out to the rough. A quick pitch, two putts later for a bogy five, all right, that will work.

I won't give a blow by description of every shot, god knows my wife will be distressed, often she “revels” as I recount an entire round.

My pure shot happened on the third hole, a par five of around five hundred yards. A surprise drive of two hundred fifty yards left my ball in a light rough, a great lie teasing me to go for the green with a fairway wood. Instead I thought, “If I hit a seven iron, with a slight hook and hit right into an exiting downhill slope that ball will take off like crazy.” Need I tell you? It was effortless, it was pure and hit exactly as planned. As it bounded down the fairway with hook over-spin I knew my Reike vision had been realized. I have no reason to doubt the course markings, I had hit the ball just around two hundred ten yards.

Walking off the ninth green, darkness on my heels, a mulligan aided forty two made my golf bag a little lighter while thinking “How could I have made a seven on seven”, ...... for a while I was back!

Mom is doing great, she was released Friday and is with Trish, Dad is restless.

Maggie's play is a hoot. I've made two performances and hope to make one or two more next week.

Tonight Sue, Beverly and I head to Shepherd University for a performance that Patrick will be in.

On an interesting note; my neurophy got much worse as the week went on. I have to admit that this was bothering me to a great degree. I have been trying to increase my running mileage, could that be it? Or, was my cesation of beer all week long the culprit? I don't know, but yesterday, three beers, two in the afternoon, one late in the evening and the numbness is about fifty percent of what it had been most of Saturday.

Hummm............... Mike

A Long Week

It's difficult for me to believe it's Wednesday, just five days after Mom's surgery, feels more like weeks. The variability of time, I'm sure that is what to blame, for time is variable, isn't it? Ask a fifteen year old aching for a learners permit how time passes, then turn to ask a Mom how fast her children grew and you may hear “slowly” and “in the blink of an eye”. As further evidence I'll submit that a hangover lasts “Forever” yet the events leading to said condition never seem to last long enough.

Mom is doing well, better than most would have guessed and may be released from the hospital as early as this weekend. According to my sister Trish, she is a favorite on her ward without even supplying any of her chocolate chip cookies. (Yet). While we do not know at this point how long she will be with Trish before returning home, I would imagine a few weeks at the very least. I'm not sure exactly when, but my Aunt Kate will be heading to Raleigh to help with Mom. This is great news. Dad is doing well but I'm sure he is restless without his wood-shop to keep him occupied.

This past Saturday I took my first Reiki course with Dee; I have a long way to go. Much like Meditation I do not seem to be able to get myself into a proper state of mind to feel that I have an ability to help myself or others. What I do know is that Reiki has helped me and with work there will come a time when I can help others.

Somehow I managed to get myself registered for the North Face Endurance Challenge Half Trail Marathon. (The Web Site Showed It Was Full) I will be running with my Nephew Matt with the intent of finishing in under two hours. The pace we will need to keep works out to about nine minutes twenty seconds per mile which will be about forty seconds per mile faster then last years time. If you read this Matt I am one hundred percent sure we can do this, train hard!

I have also registered for the Steamtown Marathon, October 7th, entered into the Nike Woman’s Half Marathon Draw for October 14^th, I'll sign up for the Catoctin 50K, July 28^th, and hopefully get into the JFK 50 miler held in November. This may be an aggressive schedule but as long as I can stay healthy and injury free I completely believe I'll be up for it.

My progress this past week has been a roller coaster ride of ups and downs. Sleep has been an issue with only one night of decent “non-aided” sleep. My energy levels are bouncing all over the place with one day being good and the next feeling like an ole sleepy eye hound dog. Running typically makes me feel better, however the bump is temporary. I have had several experiences of bathroom surprise, thankfully all in the evenings. My feet are still half numb, my hands are sensitive yet this is a step up from hurting.

Time should be my friend; I'm just wondering, how I will perceive it ?

Keep Hope In You Hearts and Minds ..... Mike

EASTER

It's April eleventh and I'm sitting here listing to a classical piece “Night on Bald Mountain” while looking outdoors to see large snow flakes dance their way to the ground. Just an hour or so ago I headed out for a non-energy filled two mile run which ended up being more of a slog then a run. How different from this past Saturday when I ran a twenty one minutes forty second five kilometer race, finishing up twelfth overall and shocking the living daylights out of myself; I expected to run somewhere shy of twenty four.

The selection has changed, currently Vivaldi's “Spring”(I'm listening via Pandora). Not looking like spring out there Antonio. Snow is falling hard and the roads are “Steaming” the same as if a cool rain had fallen on a hot summer road, bizarre.

Easter has come and gone and for the first time since we've been married Susan and I did not share Easter together. Instead I drove with my brother, Tim and his family to Raleigh NC to surprise Mom. 

I would have said to surprise Mom and Dad but apparently Dad is clairvoyant; he announced, “I'm not surprised, I knew it all along.”

The surprise for Mom however was complete, compelling and joyful. Perhaps in a strange way the most meaningful Easter I may experience.

If there was a down side it only rose after I returned home, thankfully after I returned and not while on the road. I tend to forget sometimes that it has just been three months since reversal and probably unfair for my mind to expect my body to cooperate upon demand. Still.........

Yesterday I went off the “Gabbys”; the name Sue and I had given for Gabapentin. It is a drug to control the pain from the side effects of chemotherapy. I ran out as soon as I came back from North Carolina and apparently did not have an available refill. I never imagined I'd still be taking this stuff at this point but my hands ache and my feet are thirty percent asleep. You are not supposed to just stop but since I have, I'll just gut it out and deal with it.

The informative paragraph below explains probably why I feel like crap.

------

If you suddenly stop taking Gabapentin tablets, capsules, or oral solution, you may experience withdrawal symptoms such as anxiety, difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep, nausea, pain, and sweating. If you are taking Gabapentin to treat seizures and you suddenly stop taking the medication, you may experience seizures more often. Your doctor may decrease your dose gradually over at least a week.

-------

Mom's surgery is scheduled for Friday, I am at a lack of words to express how I feel.

Mike

Antrim Inn

Susan and I left Thursday afternoon (the fifth) to spend a quiet evening at the Antrim 1844 Inn. Susan's last Spring Break was spent jockeying me around from specialist to specialist ; this year I hoped I would be recovered enough for a quiet evening out.

The Inn is well known for it's dining, extensive wine list and cozy accommodations. Susan and I in our B.C. Years (before children) enjoyed fine dining with an occasional overnight stay but it had been many years since we have done so, it was about time.

Our adventure was sprung on Sue as a complete surprise, I had thought I would tell her to pack a bag the morning of our reservation but Beverly suggested it would be better to give more notice, which I did. Mum was the word and poor Sue spent a day trying to figure out where we might be going. She had no clue, until, upon questioning about our departure time I blurted out that we would not need to stop by the Grotto to light candles for Mom and Dad, I had already done that. That comment gave her “direction” and from her ability to associate disparate pieces of information she had a pretty good idea of where we were heading.

Driving to the Inn we bantered back and forth, “Just give me the first letter of the Town we're going too”, she asked. “No, just tell me if you think you know where we're going”, I replied. Back and forth we went until finally she guessed and I confirmed we were heading to the Antrim Inn.

In our room, next to the four post feather bed sat the five red roses I had ordered, each rose representing a member of  our family. It was a nice touch to an already beautiful room as was the chilled bottle of sparkling wine awaiting us. The uncorking of sparkling wine, along with conversation overshadowed afternoon tea, yet a late afternoon stroll, including a tour of the wine cellar filled out the remainder of the afternoon.

The wine list at the Inn is a wine lovers delight and an intimidating adventure for a beer drinker as myself. Planning therefore was an essential component in the selection of a proper wine. Perhaps I could have taken some courses, performed in-depth research or just dump the wine list into the lap of someone who knows about wines, like my friend Joe.

Armed with a “Cheat Sheet” of suggested wines Joe recommended, Sue and I confidently headed to dinner, knowing I could order the perfect wine for dinner. Walking to the Inn, I pulled the list out of my pocket multiple times looking, refolding and pondering which wine would be the best for the dinner we would select from a six course adventure.

It worked out perfectly, with “Cheat Sheet” memorized I calmly ordered a Joseph Phelps, Cabernet Sauvignon, bottle number 9222, vintage year 2000. Susan chided me as the wine steward left the table, “Well I certainly hope you didn't transpose any numbers”. With bottles priced up to sixty five hundred dollars a simple error could be a costly mistake. I can assure you, the reading glasses were on for a close inspection of the label as the bottle was presented.

As the wine steward decanted the wine, a couple at the next table took note, assuming their “neighbors” extensive knowledge of wines.

The wine knowledge myth was dispelled the following morning at breakfast, as the same couple, once again seated near us commented about our abilities with wine. “Well, you must not have seen my cheat sheet”, I replied as I explained my process. I imagine it's good that I did and still ascribe to the Boy Scott motto of “Be Prepared”.

It was a wonderful evening, we had made it through the entire dinner with no issues. Nothing would remain on my plate, rich sauces would be soaked up with bread, every ounce of wine consumed and deserts handled with abandon. Boldness prevailed and perhaps with judgment clouded by wine and sauce a highly spiked coffee drink rounded out our dining experience.

A perfect script would have ended our outing with romance, however my script was a sort of Greek Satyr, a tragic comedy, as upon returning to our room I spent the better part of the next four hours in the loo. Still, it was every bit worth the cost.

Enjoy the moment ..... Mike

Easter Prayer

Two flickering candles burn brightly today at the Grotto of Lourdes. They are symbolic of my Mother and Father who have weathered the test of time for more than sixty years. As they both deal with the struggles that illness brings, may God guide them bringing peace and happiness to their lives.

This is my prayer, my hope as Easter approaches.

Mike

Poweraide and Leaves

Years of looking at Grass, first as a young groundskeeper, later as a Greenskeeper I developed an ability to see many shades of green. Shades of green spoke of, “Too Hot, Thirsty, Hungry or Sick”. It amazed me at times how others (especially those under my supervision) could not see what was so obvious to me.

This time of year, as spring blooms fade, trees renew themselves bearing new growth. New life presents itself uniquely revealing shades of greens, yellows, reds and bronze. If you just happen to be at the right place, with the right light, it will be as impressive as any fall scene. Unlike fall, the time to observe lasts only a couple weeks as trees move to conform to a “Uniform Green Blanket”.

I couldn't help but think of the parallels between this and human beings. We are born and remain individuals yet much of our growth is achieved when we realize we are part of a larger community.

I have a better understanding of this now.

On a lighter note: (Thank God)

As I reached for a Gatorade at Sheetz, a force pulled my hand back, a voice whispered “No Mike, Power-aide”. My eyes gazed for the aforementioned refreshment but none was to be found. “Oh Hell” I thought, “ I hope Snapple works”.

Thanks Craig ! Congrats with the promotion, your power to persuade shows you deserved it.

Mike "O"

Terrapin Mountain

Considering everything, the race I ran Saturday, may be the best race I will ever run.

Though it seems a long time since the reversal surgery, it's actually been eleven weeks today. Surgery to remove the port was little more than two weeks ago.

Heading to the race I knew distance would not be an issue, I had a few training runs runs of thirteen miles or more under my belt but training and racing are two different animals. Even so, I thought I could better my time from last year because of course knowledge and a lighter frame. My plan was simple enough, move up the mountain with much less walking and “Gut Out” the rest.

Summit,  That A Way

At the start, I was determined to try to arrive on the trail somewhere towards the front third of the pack avoiding the inevitable “Congo Line” of walkers trying to spare their legs. Since the 50K and Half Marathon runners all start together there is more walking exhibited then if we were all running the half. I arrived on the trail almost exactly where I thought I should be, yet even then, I had to wind my way through more runners then I would have liked.

The first aid station, four miles in, came easily. Not needing any water I quickly grabbed some potato chips and flew out of there with pieces of chips dropping from my mouth. Leaving the aid station the next three quarters of a mile or so are so steep all you can do is laugh and walk as fast as you can. Climbing higher, the light rain which had been present turned into mist as we headed into the clouds. In training I had practiced moving up steep sections using a side step technique to save your calf's. It worked and I was able to move just as fast without tiring myself out. Soon the summit was reached and I saw my friend Dennis just ahead of me. This could only mean one of two things, either Dennis was having a bad day or I was having a great one. I voted for the later.

Downhills are not my friends, in fact I am getting to the point that I detest any downhill with more then a slight grade. Needless to say, after you crest the summit there are some serious downhills to contend with. So down I go, trying to let gravity pull me along, fighting the urge to brake, yet I'm loosing that battle. Only one runner has passed me going up hill and now two pass me in the first fifteen minutes of downhill running as my knees start to ache.

Who knows why things happen but it was just at a moment when I might have moved into a bad attitude I started thinking about my mother. Visions of pound cake, where I'd eat the cake first leaving chocolate icing to be savored last. Cookies that I'd plunder from glass jars found in the “Secret Hiding Spot”, re-stacking them to conceal the theft. Thoughts from vacations, places we lived and happy days came flowing when I wasn't one hundred percent consumed with not falling down. The pain in my knee, it went away.

Eight or nine miles into the race I thought I would start to feel drained, instead I still felt strong. Close to the second, and last aid station I saw the guys who had passed on the downhill, they were only three or four minutes ahead of me. “I can catch them, there are enough uphills”, I thought to myself.

Once again I spent little time at the aid station, leaving this time with chips and pretzel pieces dropping ungraciously from my mouth.

Ten minutes later I see “First” guy. For about a mile and a half we play  “Cat and Mouse”, I would catch him on an uphill, only to run out of hill to watch him put distance between us on the down. Finally, a hill long enough to catch and pass, where I could place enough distance between him and I so not be be caught on the downhill. “We got him Mom”, I said out loud. Runner number two isn't much further ahead so once again the “Cat and Mouse Game” plays out and I pass.

“One Mile To Go”, the sign says. I'm on the road heading to the finish, glancing around to see if anyone is behind me. Not seeing anyone I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear but little more then a quarter mile later I hear footsteps and turn to see someone just fly by me. It's “Second Guy”; a look at my Garmin shows a seven fifteen pace, this guy has to be running a six thirty and he's young. A voice in my head tells me, “ If I go after him all I might do is push him to run faster and I'll throw up at the finish”. (Not Today)

Dennis, Craig, Larry and I

As I was running I had no idea what my elapsed time was from my Garmin, as I set it for pace and distance. I was shocked therefore to see two hours twenty eight minutes on the finish line clock. I had run this race twenty two minutes faster than last year, under trained, recovering from surgery and chemotherapy.

I had a good laugh a week ago when the race director, Clark Zealand sent an email seeding me in fourteenth place. At the time I wondered what sort of dope was he smoking! I finished exactly in fourteenth place, there is no way this should have happened but it did; thanks Mom. You were with me as you have always been and I shall be there for you.

Love,

Michael

Race Preparation

Packing My Bag for Terrapin Mountain

Running Shorts
Long Sleeve Running Shirts (2)
Short Sleeve Running Shirts (2)
Bandana (2)
Socks (3)
Towel
Baby Wipes
Desiden

I doubt many other trail runners will be packing the last two items, hopefully they will remain unused.

I am looking forward to the race and am happy to report that three shots of Metamucil Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday worked their magic last night. Of course it was not the most pleasant of evenings but I leave lighter and confident for the next several days.

Mom, when you read this please know I will carry you in my thoughts as I run.

Love,

Michael

Running In Fog

The fog lay thick enough so that trees vanished from view a few few dozen strides away. Drops of water fell from tree branches and newly spun spider webs glowed white from condensation. As I ran towards a fire pond I became aware of the sounds of life playing louder and louder as I neared. Once there, I stood for several minutes listening to the symphony and watching the fog roll across the water. The frantic voices of frogs mingled with a single song bird and in the distance the pounding of a wood pecker echoed as loud as any jack hammer.

Spring is arriving.

Time for new life and hope.

My recovery continues to go well but my heart is burdened with the news that my mother has been diagnosed with kidney cancer. There is good news, it appears the cancer has not spread, yet the surgery to remove the tumor will require an extremely skilled surgeon and team.

I am not a “church goer” but it might surprise many to know that I consider myself a religious person. I believe in the power of prayer and will be praying for my Mom. For any of you who pray please remember my Mother in your intentions. 

This weekend is Terrapin Mountain, a half trail marathon with over three thousand feet of climbing and descent. It was the last race trail race I ran prior to my cancer diagnosis and the first I'll run as a cancer survivor. I plan to crush my time from last year, we'll see.

Mike

St Patrick's Weekend

I'm not sure I have ever seen a nicer Saint Patrick's day. The weather has continued to bring May like temperatures with highs in the seventies, blue skies and light winds. It seemed almost hot yesterday as I laced up my shoes for my first road race of the year.

Trail running is the venue I prefer but there is an unmistakable disadvantage, eventually these trails will slow you down. The road run was five miles, meandering through country roads, rolling hills and mooing cattle. I had little feel for how I should run but I quickly settled into a comfortable pace knowing there was a large hill somewhere around mile four. My goal was to finish somewhere around forty minutes, give or take two minutes and I did just that with a 38:16. I am pleased with my effort yet it pointed out that I need to get back on a track to work on speed as I plan on running several road races this year.

Corned Beef and cabbage along with Irish Soda Bread graced our table as we sat down to a traditional Saint Patrick's day dinner. I had an extra helping of Corned Beef for my brother Bill who would be skipping a traditional meal. I wonder, can you sprout potatoes or cabbage?

This morning I met up to run with my trail group on a relaxed ten mile run. I may go out again later for a bit to explore some he trails or just putz around and do some chores.

In either case I am appreciating the fact that I'm feeling pretty good. My feet are less than half asleep, often feeling like you would with sand in your shoes. My fingertips are sore and I have trouble with fine motor skills, such as writing, but they are getting better as well. I am hoping that in a couple more months this may be behind me. The fall I took last week has left me sore in the area along the incision below my belly button but this has not been a major issue. Finally, I'm still fighting to regain regular, predictable bathroom patterns but I'm beginning to realize that this may take more time than I had hopped. With careful management I have been able to get out with no problems but I do have to be careful.

Later ….. Mike

Set Back

Molly was going crazy, I was getting dressed to head out on a long run with no plans for her to tag along. As I slipped on my socks she wined, as I laced up my shoes she spun around I circles. “Oh Hell”, I thought, “I'll take her on loop and head back out again.” After all, I had only gotten her out a couple of times this past week.

Six miles later, with only a mile left, I decided to push hard and was flying when an unseen rock or branch sent me flying. It was a good landing in a good spot, elbows and knees, no blood, no bruises just a hard jolting stop. Standing and shaking off leaves and dirt I thought how fortunate I was not to have been hurt. I resumed at a good clip arriving home with an ever increasing urgency to head straight to the bathroom.

“Oh no, What Did I Do? What Should I Do?”, crossed my mind as I saw blood. Not wanting to panic I decided to just wait and see what would happen over the next couple of hours. Things “downstairs” were getting increasingly uncomfortable but the was no more bleeding. There would be no more running either as it just didn't seem to make any sense to push my luck.

Sunday morning seven o'clock seemed awful dark as the start of daylight savings time arrived. Our run was posted as a “Newbie”, slow and only five miles with a three mile “add on option”. I felt well after five miles and added the three mile loop with a more aggressive pace set by Craig; when we finished I felt pretty darn good.

As our group finished another was on a mission, a “Run Across Maryland”, forty two miles of rock , roots and some great scenery along the Appalachian Trail. The run started at Penn Mar Pennsylvania, completing in Harper’s Ferry West Virginia. I had offered to run an aid station halfway through the run expecting runners to arrive sometime around twelve thirty. They were right on time, in great spirits with perfect weather for such an endeavor. I was glad to be there for my friends but as they left laughing there was a certain let down and a feeling that I should be leaving with them. I had considered meeting them later in the day but as I drove away it crossed my mind that I could run again later in the afternoon, this would turn out to be a mistake.

Randy and I met at four fifteen Sunday afternoon with a plan for Randy to run nine miles and I would go for seven. They way the trails loop around I knew we would meet up and finish together. When we started I didn't feel well, having the ever present “got to go” feeling. Normally the feeling subsides or I can simply manage but after three or four miles I knew I was in trouble; Randy and I went our separate ways none too soon.

Normally I will carry papers to handle such a need but today I forgot. Forget leaves, the trees are still barren from winters sleep and those on the ground are dried out and crumple upon touch. So today, a hundred feet or so off a trail lies a formerly white bandana. (buried of course)

All of Sunday night until about three A.M., all day Monday and so far this morning I've been a mess. I am hopeful that the quakes will subside and allow me to get out for something of a run or walk later on. Today may reach seventy degrees with cloudless blue skies ruling the day, it would be a pity to miss out on such a fine day.

Spring is coming ..... Mike

Monkey on My Back

There is a Monkey on My Back and it's me.

I can hardly articulate moods which are flying around the inside of my head like a Kansas twister. It was a week ago the Groshong Catheter, A.K.A. port was removed. I was reminded in the morning while organizing my wallet, as within was the "Medical Alert". It may be of no interest to anyone, but my port was part of lot number REVD0436. Any other REVD0436 (ers) out there? Perhaps we should form a club.

The internet provides a lot of information about cancer patients experiencing "Post Traumatic Shock Syndrome" and perhaps this is what I'm dealing with. Almost wish I could blame and name, a Syndrome, so I could just say, "Hey Guys, I'm not really pissed off or in a terrible mood, it just my Syndrome". Ahhhh would be nice to have something to fall back on.

No, not to be for me,  I'm simply impatient, tired of hurting, asleep feet, sore hands and the new scars I bear. Guess it's time for me to "Man Up" and just quit feeling sorry for myself.

Reike tomorrow, I know Dee and Lorette will start me on a better path.

On a bright note, my running is coming back stronger then I ever would have guessed.

Mike

Seneca Creek

There was a light rain as three Hundred Fifty runners waited for the start of the Seneca Creek Trail Marathon / 50K. The forecast for the day was much better then anyone could have imagined, as it appeared earlier in the week runners would spend the entire day soaking in rain, mud and deep creek crossings. It was chilly, but with a much improved outlook, spirits were high, and, with that thought, I rolled over in bed and went back to sleep.

Yesterday was not one of my better days, although surgery had gone well on Thursday for some reason the pain medication made me sick to my stomach sometime mid-morning. No big deal I reckoned, I'll just “Gut It Out”, yeah, by six in the evening I understood why pain medication had been prescribed. Not wanting anymore Vicodin until bedtime, a nice glass of red wine led to a second glass of red wine to take the edge off the pain.

At nine o'clock, after a whole lot of discomfort had returned, I took a Vicodin and am happy to report it worked without stomach distress. Today it's been four hours since my last, I'm optimistic that the need for these may be over as my chest is sore but tolerable. (No bench pressing for a while)

This morning Molly and I took a nice hike after the sun started to poke out from behind the clouds. Our walk took us to the bridge in the photograph, it's nothing special but it has become fun with it's twists incurred from winter's impact.

Hopefully a nice long run with my running pals tomorrow morning. 

Mike 

Port Gone

The “Perfect Greeting Card” rarely comes along but my friend Larry has a knack for finding them.

Yesterday morning I had enough time after I awoke for a quick two mile run with Molly. Stepping outside I was treated to the smell of fresh air, the result of a full day and nighttime of rain. Less then a half mile down the trail I heard the cries of the spring peepers, “Looking For Love” after a winters sleep. “Too Early Boys”, I thought to myself. The rains made creek crossing a game of rock hopping to keep dry feet and though they remain half-asleep, they were nimble enough to win out. The real pleasure of the run came as the run was almost complete; the sound of geese grew louder and louder until looking up I saw a large flock flying in formation. By counting the number of geese in a small segment, then estimating an approximate number of segments there had to be somewhere around two hundred fifty heading North. Perhaps the spring peepers know something about the end of Winter that

I don't !

Arriving at the Hospital my cell phone rang, it was the admitting staff wondering if I were on time. They explained, I might have surgery early as their was some problem with the patient scheduled ahead of me. The way it sounded I was surprised that they didn't roll a gurney right to the front door. I had the whole scene in my head, gurney waiting, one nurse pulling off my shirt, another strapping me down while a staff member thrusts paperwork to be signed. A NASCAR worthy rush to the operating room whence the doc announces, “He's tough, no need to put him under. Now, hold real still”. Yikes !

I fact, the gurney wasn't waiting at the front door but I was rushed through admittance at breakneck speed. There was a high likely-hood I was going early but then again things don't always work out as planned.

There has never had an issue with an IV before, I've always been told I have “Great Veins”. My first “clue” that something wasn't quite right came as the nurse uttered the words, “The Vein it's getting all squiggley, look”.

Looking, not my first choice, yet after a few forward backward push/pulls I glanced over and saw exactly what she was referring too. The vein in the back of my hand, that straight as an arrow vein went all squiggley as she pushed in the needle.

No big deal, we'll just do it again, push/pull, push/pull squiggley wiggly.I felt bad for the nurse as she was visibility upset. She left the prep room and returned shortly later with another nurse and an explanation. “Athletes and runners have thicker veins then normal”, she had gleaned this information from one of the doctors. Apparently she was not inserting the needle fully into the vein so as she pushed the needle was pushing against the wall of the vein.

“No Problem, three times a charm”, I said. However the hospital had a two try maximum so she could not try again. Three times was a charm but with all the extra time to prep I lost my early “T-Time”. Now it was just a long wait, made much easier with Susan holding my hand and rubbing my neck.

Surgery went well recovery went well and back at home I was feeling good enough to have visitors and talk on the phone. Randy stopped in first, fresh from a five mile loop; Larry drove up when I mentioned Randy would be stopping by for a beer. I have to admit, as I first looked at Larry's card I didn't get the humor but a second glance through “Pain Killer Eyes” made me laugh.

Larry, if you ever want to start another career you could be a professional card finder !