Saturday, July 15, 2017


Even though I was in awful shape in 2016 I was still stubborn and I spent a year running down whatever fitness base I had left. It's probably the reason I started getting interested in art. 

In January, I ran the Bandera 50k. I didn't take any pictures. I didn't do too badly, because by then I'd only been coughing a few months and was still in pretty good shape.  

In March, I ran the Puerto Rico marathon. 

That's blood on the ribbon. 

I didn't take pictures of the PR course, but I started taking pictures around this time...during the trip. 

After the marathon, I passed out. My glasses cut next to my eye when I fell. It turns out that when you get stitches right next to your eye you get s he'll of a shiner. 

I ran two half marathons soon after, the same weekend. 

In June I ran the North Umpqua Trail (NUT) 50k, otherwise known as Now I Hate Oregon 50k.  It is an all-uphill run through mosquitos and poison oak. It is also breathtakingly beautiful. 

I drew a picture of my legs after this trail marathon. That's a picture of Poison Oak in the upper left corner. And that's why I hate Oregon. 

I was doing a lot of pencil drawings about this time. This is one I did of the Oregon coast during the trip to do the NUT. 

I took this picture at the finish line of the NUT50k

In July, I finished the Tahoe Rim Trail 50k. 

Sweet Baboo started the 100 miler, but ran into some problems and only finished 50 miles. He's running the 100 again today.

I did this painting of a picture I took of the course.  

In August, I tried to do the La Luz. It's a 9 mile climb up to 10,400 feet. I was so slow people were worried and wondering where I was. But I finished. I painted this picture later, with watercolor, Pitt pen, and micron pen. 

In the fall, finished the Morgantown marathon. Easily the hardest road marathon I've ever done. Finishing directly and accepting a finishing medal behind me was a woman who admitted she "probably" cut the course when I passed her the second time. I write the race director three times. They never wrote back, and never removed this local from the results. Ergo, it's cool to cheat at the Morgantown marathon. I guess.
This is the only picture from the course.  

In October I completed the Cloudsplitter 50k, which rivals Tahoe for the hardest 50k I've ever done. 

It's also probably the most beautiful. This 50k, which has over 9000 feet of climbing and rubs along a rudgeline that comprises the Kentucky/Virginia border, I would so do again. 
It was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that fed my soul and filled me with hope for all the wonder that ultrarunning offers. 
Experiences and memories like this kept me going through some pretty hopeless times. 

It was so beautiful, I had to make a slide show. Enjoy. 

(Above:Birch Knob, Kentucky. )


A week later, I did the New York marathon.  I got in on the lottery. Sweet Baboo ran it with me. Of course, I was appallingly slow. But it was a great time. 

And, well, that's it for 2016. I spent the year not able to train but doing things anyway, and wearing down completely. 


Sunday, July 09, 2017

Art journaling

Dear Diary,

Even though I haven't been blogging, I have been journaling.  It's just a different kind of journal.  

I journal about things that are important to me.  I journal about times that I'm happy


I journal about things that I'm frustrated or angry about

(above) on this day I was tired of seeing all the "bloom where you're planted" posters. 

I journaled selfies to get my feelings out of my head about how I felt about myself that day.

I did this little watercolor when I was near my heaviest.  

sometimes I journaled to try to say to myself, "buck up, little cowboy".

i journaled (sometimes) about runs I did
which I did do. 


so this is one thing that's different now.  I journal in pictures that I draw myself.  


Saturday, July 08, 2017

shattered. (long post)

Dear diary,

is anyone out there?

it doesn't take a genius to notice the rapid decline in the number of posts on this blog in the past few years.  going back, it would seem that it started around 2012, 2013.  Ish.  which is when today's story begins.

i think things are on the upswing.  i hope they are.

this is long.  but here we go.

in 2011, i was at the top of my game.  i'd been diagnosed with hypothyroidism, but was on good meds.  I ran four marathons in 9 days, and the third one was my personal best: 4:45.

I was battling my weight, but hey, who wasn't?  in 2012, i started a new job, which i love.  and that was the last year i really felt good.  for the past five years, i've been applying every bandaid i could to the increase in weight, decrease in depression, as well as someone without any medical training can.  each new bandaid was followed by a declaration that things are going to be awesome now.

in late 2012, or perhaps 2013, Sweet Baboo went back into the military full time.  i was required to give up my family doc, who'd treated me for 12 years and who had started me on estrogen, and i also had to leave my endocrinologist.  my care was now at the military base, clinic. they do an adequate job there on base, especially with healthy young servicemen and women who aren't approaching maturity, and who doesn't love free prescriptions?  however, the care providers on base, nurse practitioners, have been rotated out every year.  i'm about to begin on my 4th or 5th PCP.  i've lost count.

in any case, the first thing that happened is that my second PCP informed me that i didn't need to be on two thyroid medications.  am i a doctor?  i am not.  so, i said okay.  and that was how citomel, aka liothyronine, was dropped from my regimen.

the weight began creeping on.  i blamed it on the new job, which i imagined involved more sitting (it didn't) and the fact that early menopause occurs in my family.  the hot flashes began.  with a vengeance.  two to three times each hour, sweat would bead up on my legs, roll down between my breasts--i stopped sleeping through the night.

a black depression descended on me.  i woke up weeping, and when i wasn't sad, i was numb.  they upped my dose of wellbutrin.  when i started at the base clinic, they had changed my estrogen pills because the ones i had been on weren't in their formulary.  the new pills were making me nauseated, so we tried several iterations of estrogens--vaginal cream was just gross, and the patch had a latex-based adhesive that made me itch like crazy.  finally, my third PCP said, "we really don't like people to be on estrogen more than 5 years anyway." all attempts to treat menopause symptoms with hormones ceased.  i tried decreasing my caffein and taking black cohosh, which really didn't help much.  i told myself it was temporary, and i could ride it out.  right?

the weight gain accelerated throughout 2014 and 2015 but then leveled out at around 165, assuming, of course, that i ran a few miles nearly every day and did olympic weightlifting 2x per week, and kept my average calorie around 1600 per day.  i still felt a little dull, and sluggish.

then in october 2015, while out on a walk with Himself, i started coughing.

i didn't quite put it together that this was when i started using my new office; i simply assumed it was because of the fall bloom of the chamisa bush.  i looked into getting allergy shots at the base clinic, and was told that my asthma was "too poorly controlled".  they offered a referral to a civilian specialists.  after a six months' wait, i saw a pulmonologist.  he said my asthma was under control.  he referred me to an allergist; after another five months i saw the allergist, who said that my asthma was well-controlled, but a chronic post nasal drop was aggravating my airways and causing my coughing.  he tested me for allergies, and then started me on allergy shots.  ever monday and every friday, for seven months, i went in before work for three shots each.  i'm allergic to molds, evergreens, grasses, molds, dust, mites, and cats.

none of this explained why i was coughing now.  i've always had a lot of allergies, especially to grasses and mold  it's why i live in New Mexico.  why was i coughing now?

my mood continued to decline.  i struggled to accept that this is what a body in its 50s looks and feels like, even though it felt like it was someone else's body.  someone's older, heavier body.

i coughed throughout the winter, and into the spring of 2016.  by the summer of 2016, i was nearly incontinent and my marathon time had increased by an hour.  i couldn't run. i began studying drawing and painting; i figured if i couldn't run, i needed something else to give me meaning.  i gained another 5 lbs.  i struggled, daily, with fake it until you feel it. i bought air cleaners, dust covers, and everything had HEPA filters it.  i was constantly tired...depressed...heavy...sluggish.

in early 2017, i had gained another 5 lbs.  i was up to 175.  i went online to buy some second-hand clothing to fit the new, larger me because after consulting with a nutritionist, i gained another 10 lbs.

but, by early 2017 i had also figured out that there was something about my office making me cough; although i coughed almost constantly, sometimes until i gagged, it was worse at work.  i brought in an air cleaner.  that seemed to help a little.  the allergy shots continued.  i started feeling a tiny bit better.

then in february 2017, i came in one day to find that the walls near my office, which is partially subterranean, were encased in plexiglass.  men in suits and respirators were walking in an out, and inside the enclosure, were removing wallboard.

mold, the workers told me.  lots of it.  as far down as they could dig.  after 6 weeks they had cleaned up and removed everything.

and i had stopped coughing, abruptly, after 15 months of coughing.  my cough was gone.  i took the air cleaner home.  i started running again.

5 months later,  i was up to running 4 miles per day, except for Tuesdays when I have crossfit.  my mood started to lift.  and in 5 months of substantial exercise, i lost 4 lbs.

after i stopped talking, i was feeling particularly energized by the lack of coughing and had a new mission to be assertive with health providers.   in march i requested and received a referral to see a specialist in women's issues.  i waited 3 months for an appointment.  she referred me out "you really should be followed by an endocrinologist."  i requested and received a referral to see a civilian endocrinology specialist.  i waited another 2 months for an appointment.  that appointment was 4 days ago.  

there were blood tests for estrogen, testosterone, progesterone, and thyroid hormones.  the new provider explained why: "it's not about the numbers," she said.  "it's about how you're feeling."  i nearly started crying on her office.  she listened to me talk.  i told her, forget that i'm a 50-year-old.  i'm a 50-year-old who's done a lot of shit.  she prescribed a different thyroid medication that includes liothyronine.  she scheduled me to begin hormone replacement therapy.  on July 13th, i will have pellets implanted that contain hormones that last for about 3 months.  tricare will not pay for it.

i'm so tired of being tired.  i'm so tired of not sleeping, of feeling to heavy to run.  i am up to 4 miles per day now, running and hiking on trails each morning.  i realize that you can't be "young" again but i would like to get back to where i have been, to enjoy running have not feel like my days of competing in sporting events are over.

I've had my hopes dashed repeatedly.  I"m more cautiously optimistic.  i've talked to some women who have had the pellet HRT, and although it's anecdotal, they talk about "getting my life back." I would just like to have enough energy to be able to run and do the things that make me healthy.

i hope.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Taking a break

if you hadn't noticed, I'm taking a bit of a break from blogging to pursue a new passion. Don't worry, I'm still doing ultra running. For now, you can catch up with me here:
Lynn's Daughter.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

How Misty got her groove back.

Dear Diary,

This past two months have been difficult.  My asthma flared up during last fall's pollen bloom…and then never went away. I finally went to the doctor and ask for help, and after several false starts, and after having nearly lost my voice, she put me on some new asthma medication. I may also be starting allergy shots soon.

As a result of not being able to breathe, as you might guess, my training fell off by quite a bit, as evidenced by me passing out after the Puerto Rico marathon. I lost a lot of my robustness, my ability to recover quickly, my ability to run every single day.  But finally, back in late March, I was able to slowly get back on the trails again.

As a result of my airway shenanigans, my "marathon double" that was planned for Pennsylvania and Virginia became a "half marathon double".  However, I was able to complete the Cedro Peak 45k, A somewhat rocky trail run in the Manzano mountains.

This weekend, that is to say, next weekend, I'll be attending the "ham is" i mean "hey Ms." 50 K. [gotta love Siri! that's supposed to read "Jemez 50 K"] Here's the profile. 

I've even painted my nails blue in preparation for the high altitude.

I am prepared to fail. But I'm not prepared to quit.

I have discovered that I am lousy with my nutrition. I spent the last month trying to do Weight Watchers. Weight watchers does not work for old runners or ultrarunners. Weight watchers works for people who perhaps do yoga or Pilates to keep fit or maybe jog a couple miles every day, but it doesn't work for people who run until they throw up, or for cross-fitters, i'm guessing.  I was getting dizzy spells while climbing.  I would eat my plan dutifully, and then around 3 pm, go look for a pie to eat.

 I started to suspect this earlier this year when I do the 50 K and, at mile 20, I ate a small bag of jellybeans. It lit a fire under me and kept me going. I also drink cola at every single aid station and just put the worry about calories out of my mind.  The problem is, I frequently lose my appetite when I'm running. But there are three things that will keep me going: First, any kind of hazelnut spread on anything at all. Second, certain flavors of jelly beans. Not the sportbeans. The real ones. Buttered popcorn and coconut are my favorite flavors.  Third, cola, which I rarely drink in any other context.

I also confess to subscribing to the belief that maybe if I don't eat very much I can get my body to burn some fat. And then immediately after a long run I would eat a whole pizza.  Or an eight-piece chicken dinner.  Because a girl's gotta replenish, right??

So i"m going to try something new. At least I think it's new for me.  I'm going to eat like a normal person so that i have the energy to run snd work out, and so I'm not prowling through the hospital at 3pm looking for day-old birthday cake.  


Saturday, March 19, 2016

R55, S01.111A

Dear Diary,

After competing the Puerto Rico marathon (yes, it was hot and no, it wasn't flat, thank God for the rain
showers) there was no shuttle to take us back to our car.  I was suffering, too.  I'd done a fairly difficult 53k trail run the week prior, and then 12 or so miles of walking and hiking a few days later.  So, after drinking some water and sitting a bit, Sweet Baboo and I walked up a small hill looking for a shuttle, but alas, if you're a slow runner, much of the time you can screw yourself, because the pizza, masseuse, and shuttle will be long gone.  Baboo finally parked me in the shade and went to get the car, a couple miles away.  I squatted down to stretch out my lower back and glutes a bit.  "I'll wait here," I said.  And then I stood up. All the way up.

Baboo described what happened next.  "I was walking away and I heard a noise.  You went down like a sack of wet rocks."

I refuse to believe that I did anything other than swoon gracefully but nevertheless, I was suddenly laying on the ground on my side in a pile of wet leaves and dirt, and my sunglasses were broken.  My first thought: I must have laid down to take a nap. And Baboo's back already--that was fast! But why is he yelling?  Eventually I made out that he was yelling for an ambulance, and he gave me a piece of dry clothing and told me to press against my face.


Just trust me, he said.

There was blood. A fair amount. At first we thought I had hit my head, hard enough to split the sin 1/2 away from eye, but eventually I reasoned that my glasses broke and cut me: there was no dirt in the cut and I never had a headache.  

In the ambulance, I was finally able to start talking, and i babbled to prove I was oriented.  I babbled my name, the date, the president, etc., to the attendants, who looked puzzled, "que?" And finally were able to get some information out of me that they needed.

At the hospital, the ambulance the driver indicated that they would like to be paid right now, please.  Luckily, Baboo was able to get Tricare Military insurance on the line to tell people they were going to get paid, and after speaking to them they never approached us for money again.  I am so incredibly thankful to have good insurance.

As a social worker, the experience of being in an emergency room where nobody spoke my language was pretty eye-opening.  I asked several times for a blanket, as did Baboo, because I was still soaked and in addition, when I'm nervous and in pain, I shake like crazy.  Plus, who knew what the hell was happening to my blood sugar.  In any case, I got a CT scan, an EKG, and bloodwork, but I never got that damned blanket.  I got sheets.  Eventually I had five sheets, none of which coverd me fully and at least one of which was immediately soaked through, since I was comletely soaked from running 26 miles in the rain.  All the lab work was negative.

The people around me, though, they got blankets.  The lady across from me, the lady next me, they got blankets.  Not me.  Wtf?

Baboo left to go find the car, and eventually I was taken to 'trauma', to sit alone, shake, and anticipate what was going to happen next.  I knew what happened next, but I'd never gotten stitches while awake before.

Fuck me, that shot hurt.

I got seven stitches, in the cut next to my right eye.  By the time Baboo returned I was tearful and self-pitying and huddled under a pile of sheets.  He brought me dry clothes and walked me out to the car, and later bought me the best pizza I ever had.  Meanwhile, it turns out that that much crap happening that close to your eye results in an impressively black eye. 

I didn't get to snorkle, obviously.

And that's the story of why I need to go back to Puerto Rico, (to snorkle) and why I'm creating a medical information card in Spanish, and why I have a black eye.

Sunday, February 07, 2016

To run fast, you have to run fast. But to get it done you just have to do it.

Dear Diary,

For a very long time I labored under the misconception that there was really no point in doing a training run unless it was a quality workout.  And so, I would wake up, feel like I didn't have a good run in me, and then do nothing at all.

But what I've learned is that since I apparently not getting offers for sponsors anytime soon (anyone? Anyone? Buhler?) I should focus on making myself comfortable.  So on weekends, I do long hikes with lots of hills.  On weekdays, I was doing run 3 or 4 miles in the dark, but now I've switched to afternoons, to try to hurry and get heat acclimated for Puerto Rico.  

I figure this will result in two outcomes: 1) I'll enjoy the race more, even in last place, and 2) I'll stay injury-free long enough to outlast most of my competition.  

Sweet Baboo shared with me one of his 'tricks' for training for trail runs. What he does is this: he divides the total elevation gain for a race by the number of miles, to get total elevation gain per mile.  He then makes sure that his long runs have the same elevation gain per mile.

So, let's look at my upcoming races:

Sierra Vista 50k (31 mi) 2255 ft, 72 ft/mile 

Puerto Rico Mary (26 mi) 361 ft, 14ft /mile 

Cedro Peak 45K (28. mi) - 3727 ft, 133 ft/mi 

Pa/va marathon double
April 10, 500 ft elevation gain VA
April 9, 686 ft elevation gain PA

Quicksilver 50K (31 mi) - 6050 ft, 195 ft/mi 
Jemez 6600 feet/31 miles = 213 feet per mile

NUT 50K (31 mi) - 5700 ft, 182 ft/mi 

Tahoe Rim Trail 55K (34 mi) - 6042 ft,178 per mile [A-RACE]

Cloud Splitter 50K (32 mi) - 8983 ft, 282 ft/mi (oct) oook!!

So far, I've only rin 176 miles in 2016. However, I've climbed over 30,000 feet.  Much of this has been up into the Sandia Mountains. Today Sweet Baboo took me and DreadPirate on a hike over 7ish mikes and over 2200 feet of climbing.  I'm extremely blesseed to live right on the edge of Albuquerque and have easy access to the foothills trails. Yesterday I headed out and climbed 2200 feet up the Embudo Trail into the Sandias, and felt pretty great about that--i had about a 240-degree view from up there.  

Today, my knees hurt.  Cause I'm oooooold. 

And I want side of beef. Now.

Tuesday March starts, and I start throwing in some distance.  


Even though I was in awful shape in 2016 I was still stubborn and I spent a year running down whatever fitness base I had left...