It's on!

What's on is my quest to be fit again. Let me first say that this is the first time in history where no weight was gained on vacation. I'm in shock. I've even made my kids get on the scale to make sure it's accurate. I think being vegan in the South helped a bit with this one. No cookies my skinny sister in law made, no ice cream at the beach (which I truly missed, as an experience), no real entrees except veggie burgers and vegetables. My mother in law was so sweet to cater to my restrictions. Instead of using butter to cook her vegetables, she used Crisco. Thank you (I think).

Anyway, so yesterday, my son Dylan looks at me as I'm waving my arm and points to it and giggles and says "jiggle jiggle". If that's not a hint that I need to exercise... I can't even repeat what he said about my thighs. I'm still trying to erase that one from my memory.

My foot is better and I have been back to running, ever so slowly. I don't want to risk re-injury. I'm only up to 2 miles and am going for 3 this weekend. I am just so damn happy to be running again. I actually smile when I know it's a running morning. I took my two insanely crazy dogs running this morning. It used to be just Fletcher, but Livvy has caught on and I can't look at her face and not take her too. I know we look like a circus act running down the street. This is how my morning goes: 5:30-6:00am, my big dog rams the side of the bed and nudges my hand with his wet nose until I get up. Both he and Livvy race down the stairs and are literally underfoot as I get my running clothes on. Fletcher runs around with one sock or the other in his mouth until I yank it from his mouth and put the wet thing on. Then we head out. It's nutty, but it makes me smile to see them both so happy.

So, I'm on the quest to finally lose 4 pounds and tighten up. This is it. No more excuses.

On the boob front, they seem to be getting lower, like the whole thing is slipping. I know my PA thinks I've lost it and let me schedule a pity appointment. We'll see what they say. She did say Dr. B could fix it at my nipple construction.

Happy Summer!

Here comes the sun...

Finally. I feel better. I've been wallowing in some sort of depression for what feels like months. I felt like my life was a constant scramble up loose rocks to stay happy, or even to feel the absence of sadness. It wasn't a crying sad, just a cloud.

Work had been really slow, running was non-existent, the clouds literally covered the sun for weeks, etc. etc. I worked every day to keep the sadness from getting the best of me. Again, I'd like to blame the whole breast cancer thing, because at least that I can understand.

Since then, work has picked up, I've started running again, and it looks like Spring is finally here. It's still good days/bad days, but the good days are better and the bad aren't so low.

Boobs are fine. Still seem a bit big, but I'll get used to it. My PS smiled when he saw me and said that they looked good. I really think he meant it, I could see it in his face. They still feel completely foreign. I'm numb up to where my necklace hits, although, when I was at the PS last, I scratched somewhere in between the two, and felt something. I was really excited and so was the PA. Nipples will be in August, after the summer. This way I won't have the shields on with my swimsuit, or worry about swimming at all.

The rest of life is moving along at lightning speed. School is almost out for the summer (lord help me) and I'm gearing up for trips planned. Running is ok. Only up to about 2 miles. The boobs seem really tight when I'm running, but not painful, so I'll keep trudging along.

This all sounds pretty boring, but I'm just glad to be coming out of the fog.

oncologist

So, I saw an oncologist today. I didn't really feel the need, but my surgeon said I should... so I did. I arrived early as requested to do paperwork. My appointment was at 10:00. At 10:45, I'm still waiting. I finally went to the desk, in tears, and asked what was going on. I had conned my parents into watching my kids and knew that I had to get back to relieve them. I know the Dr. has much more sick people to attend to, but something about that place just really got to me. I saw 3 bald women. I didn't feel like I belonged and after sitting in that stupid conference room, I didn't feel like I mattered. I sat in the waiting room again and just cried. The energy in there is sad and draining.

Anyway, I finally met with her. The appointment lasted a whole 30 minutes, rather than the allotted hour and a half. She alluded to the fact that I didn't really need to be there (this is a good thing) and I told her I was just doing as instructed. The point is I'm cured and shouldn't have to go back, yippee!

It's been a really emotional week, in every facet of my life. Pre-menstrual plus pre-surgical is a dangerous combination. Don't fuck with me this week.

I swear I hit every red light on the way home. Every one. I also went to Toys R Us for some promised $3 Barbie. This apparently does not exist. Fine by me, I hate that place and am happy not to give them my money, all $3 of it.

On a good note, one thing on my drive home made me smile. A big ol dog with his head stuck out of the sun roof, love it. I came home to my ever giving parents, a grumpy son and my daughgter on her 3rd jelly sandwich. I also the yummiest lunch. I know I haven't had chicken in like 15 years, but I'm pretty sure this is what it tastes like.

Glad the sun is out, but still wishing my days away until Tuesday. I just can't do much until then.

Runner Girl

My birthday is this week. My 40th. My husband and I have never been big on extravagant gifts and in fact go many holidays without exchanging. We never seem to have extra money to spend on each other and would rather put those funds elsewhere, but we also don't need materials to know the love is there. The sentiment is there, with or without the gift. For this year however, my husband gave me my gift. It couldn't have been more fitting for my life right now. I am a runner. I feel like an impostor saying that since I'm not fast or overly dedicated. But the fact that I've run a marathon, run 8 half marathons and fit running into my life, every week makes me one. I love the way it makes me feel. I feel strong and fit and like I can do anything. Lately though, running has taken a back seat and I've felt badly about it in lots of ways, but kept rationalizing it.

I am in the middle of planning for a double mastectomy and worrying about the recovery after. Part of me wanted to stop running altogether, at least until the surgery because I figured what's the point? I'm just going to lose anything I've worked to achieve when that day comes. I worry about how long it will be before I can run again and worry about how long it will take me to get it back. I worry I won't have the motivation or the drive.

Then my husband gives me my present. Two stickers for my car. One says 26.2. I wonder if having run only one marathon qualifies me to display this, but my husband assures me it does. The other says Runner Girl. I love it. I needed this to remind me how important this is in my life and not to give up on it. It will motivate me to stay with it. No matter what setbacks I face. Just finished a 6 mile run without a thought of giving up or slowing down.

I am a Runner Girl