A reason to write

Ashamed.

Ashamed, ashamed, ashamed.

After all the amazing support and affection you all offered to me before, during and after my surgery....

I don't even want to KNOW what the date of my last post was. So I'm not gonna look. I have to assume that people who are really consistent with their blogs have sponsors or something other than vanity to keep them posting.

Major holidays and life events have transpired since my last post. Here are the very limited highlights:

Gabe turned 2.

THE marathon happened.

Tommy turned 10. 

Tom & Elliott were in a musical at school. 

We did the Easter thing with dear friends whom we haven't seen since before their twins were born in October. (Failed to get a group photo, of course... d'oh!)

We spent a week in Ormond Beach (just north of Daytona), Florida with my in-laws and got to have a couple of brief visits with my brother-in-law's family on our way in and out of Orlando.

Each of those things were terrific and worthy of their own blog post or 20... but what's got me writing today is a package I got in the mail today from Another Mother Runner. Way back at the beginning of 2014, I signed up for their "Prove It" half marathon challenge. This is a fantastic (new) idea that they are going to re-new for the fall. They offer a training program and major on-line support/community, a smart phone app.... it's great. If you are a mother runner, I highly recommend giving one of their challenges a go. (They also had a 10K this time and it sounds like they are gearing up to add a full marathon challenge in the fall."Something for everyone".)

When I signed up for it, of course, 13.1 miles was breakfast for me. I figured I would have my 40 miler under my belt and hit the Big Lake Half Marathon on May 10 hard, maybe even shoot for a PR even though the hills are killer. Of course, now the thought of running 3.1 miles - let alone 13.1 - makes me weepy with nostalgia (and physical pain).

So. Back to the package. Another part of the virtual race the mother runners have set up is a very cool lifestyle tee and finisher's medal for all who participate... or in my case, all who paid/intended to participate. Most of the runners were shooting for a race this weekend or next (in coordination with Mother Day) so all of the goodies arrived in mailboxes in the last week or so.

My photography does not do this fab medal justice. It's a square of happiness! 

And great shirt, right? I can't wait to wear it. AND put that medal up with my EARNED racing bibs/medals. But for now, I have that fantastic shirt and beguiling medal hanging in the 'work out' room hoping that they will inspire me. They hang there along with my get well cards and drawings.... and those stupid tights I was wearing on the stupid day when all of this started. (February 10, case you, unlike me, have not been living and breathing and regretting that stupid, stupid day for a stupid almost-3 months now).

Perhaps you sense that I am in the Deep Blues of the Feel Bad Rainbow? Yup. I think I am just south of Self Pity and a smidgen north of Wallowing. I can tell myself "Big Picture" over and over again but I am frankly sick to freaking death of my knee hurting. I am past the point of "a little better every day" and feel like I am stuck. Big time.

So that's why you haven't heard from me. I am pissy and cranky whenever I think about my knee and I don't need to subject you to that. I believe the Hep Cats on The Social Media might hashtag this "SorryNotSorry". 

But, because I need you to know that I have not completely lost my sense of humor, I WILL subject you to this horrible selfie I took with Gabriel. We flew back from FL yesterday and since Scott sat with him on the way south, it was my turn to sit with Gabe and Scott sat with the big kids. Gabe was... let's see? How to phrase this?.... Oh, yes: HORRIBLE! He had not napped and was just so exhausted and out of sorts and THIRSTY and wanting to get out of his seat and SCRRREEEAMING for a good chunk of the trip. I was able to quell some of it through Stupid Human Tricks, iPhone apps, and Sky Mall "Find the Doggie" games... but those moments of quiet/sanity were brief and separated by long bouts of HELL ON (or just slightly off) EARTH. And then, just as we made our final descent to the airport, about 15 minutes left in on the 3+ hour flight. He fell sound asleep. This photo reveals how I felt about the situation:

I ask you: How could this dear child have caused any sort of frustration? Dig my horrifying eye bags. Far worse than usual! 

Back to reality tomorrow. I hope I am back in the groove here and can share some less grumpy sides to my recovery soon. May the Fourth Be With You.

How (not) To Run in Senior Nirvana

In yesterday's post about The Many Vomits of Team Giessler up and down the east coast over the Christmas holiday I made mention of an Epic Fail Run that I took while on vacation. Here is the tale of that run.

Because of the very cold and icy winter we've had so far, my Pay It 40-ward training has not been flawless. Anyone who lives in northern climates and is training through the winter to run an ultra marathon in early spring would be excited about the idea of a few days in warm weather and friendly terrain. I was downright GIDDY at the idea of doing my runs in The Villages, Florida for that very reason.

I was disappointed not to have experienced one single Golden Girls sighting. 

On the morning after we arrived, I got up at 4:30 in order to get in about a 3 hour or 18-mile run. Since running takes a lot of (selfish) time I make attempts not to make the rest of the world work around my schedule whenever possible. The Villages has many different communities within it and they are all connected by golf cart paths (and regular roads, too, of course). These golf cart paths are fantastic for running. The only trouble is that sometimes at an intersection the path takes you off of the main road and onto another road... maybe not the one you really want to be on any longer. I knew this, as I had run there before. To prepare for this, I typed out on my phone a list of the roads I wanted to take for my run. I didn't do the miles out but I knew that if it was too short I could always do the loop a couple of times.

Well, of course, I got out on the paths and lost my mind. I was loving the flat. Loving the comfortable temps. Loving the quiet. Loving the 'dark' (I had my headlamp but hardly needed it as the area is pretty well lit with street lights). After about 45 minutes I noticed that I wasn't on the road I thought I was on. I didn't panic because I knew I could use my GPS to get me back to the house. (I had wisely typed in the exact street address of their house on my phone.... otherwise this story would have an even more tragic/hilarious ending!)

After about 2 hours of tooling around different cart paths and generally  loving life, I got out the phone and typed in the address. It said that by foot I was about 7 miles from their house. Perfect, actually! I looked at the map, memorized the streets I needed to take and got on my way. Every 10 or 15 minutes I stopped to check the phone to make sure I was going in the right direction. The little blue line between me and the house was still solid. I was totally on the right track. I made a pit stop at one of the many rec centers to use the bathroom and refill my water bottles. I checked in with one of their early morning workers and he directed me to the street I needed. Still feeling good.

Coming up on hour 3/mile 18, I was wondering why I hadn't found the turn I needed. I checked the phone again. Still on that pretty blue line but, ummm, what's this? Now I was NINE miles from their house?! What the heck was going on? How could I be still on the right route but farther from the house!? At this point I knew, even if I figured out what I was doing wrong, I was not going to make it back. I just didn't have a 27 miler in me. I called Scott and told him where I was. (Right by the Nancy Lopez Golf Course, in case you are wondering!) He relayed through his Dad that I was a LONG way from their house and I needed to go SOUTH on the road I was on. I had, of course, been going north. Very north. For a very long time! Thankfully they were able to hop in the car and would be able to pick me up fairly soon.

As I ran the next 3 miles down the now-sunlit road I realized my error. Yes, I was on the right road. And yes, I was still on the pretty blue line. But I was only on the pretty blue line because I was CREATING the line... making it LONGER and moving it AWAY from my destination. That GPS was making me feel all warm and fuzzy when actually what I needed to do was so "HEY, STUPID, YOU ARE GOING THE EXACT WRONG WAY!"

Big. Fat. DUH!

So, that's runner's brain for you. It hits in any climate, apparently. Blessedly there was no fear of frost bite nor dehydration because I was in winter runner's paradise. I even had an extra Gu and Chomps when I was done.

All in all it was a great run. I got in 21 miles - a real confidence booster, actually. And I managed to get in 6 more miles the next 2 mornings as well. That was probably my first time ever hitting my very tired legs with another run the day after a 20+ miler. What a great 3-days of memorable running.

And then it was Christmas and I got sick... and the boys got sick.... and well, you read yesterday's post, right...?

If you're really curious, here's the link the RunKeeper page documenting my dumbassishness. http://runkeeper.com/user/PhoebeVG/activity/282726011

Pay it 40-ward updates to come soon! A big decision has been made Several great ideas from the Team to share! I will get my act in gear, I promise!

The virus heard 'round the world...

... or at least the East Coast.

This is the story of our amazing Christmas holiday. And I start out by telling you it really was amazing and we had a fabulous time because when I tell the REST of the story, you are sure to think it was awful. Because it was. Except when it wasn't. Anyway.....

The week before Christmas break was a busy one for us. There were two evening obligations at school that meant we didn't get home until after official bedtime. (Remember, we live 30 minutes from school and when there is an event, I don't see the sense in driving all the way home only to turn around and go back again. So, we hang out at school for the late afternoon until the event begins). There was also a karate party to attend. And then there was the small detail of getting the boys packed for a SURPRISE Christmas trip to Florida.

Yeah. My in-laws very generously flew us down to visit them on December 21st. Scott and I thought the idea of making it a surprise was really appealing. Which it was. But it meant that we had to surreptitiously get everything packed and ready to go without them noticing. Totally worth it, of course, but challenging.

With all that going on - plus the general OH MY GOD WE'VE GOT TO GET READY FOR CHRISTMAS - it was of course the ideal time for Gabe to get sick. On Monday afternoon I picked him up from daycare and he looked like one of those babies on the infomericials. "For just 23 cents a day, you could ensure that this little boy gets the medicine he needs to combat the infections that overwhelm him." He was a conjunctivitis mess with crusty grossness oozing from every orifice of his face. (Num num!)

Cue me taking Tuesday off and carrying around 28 pounds of sad puppy most of the day. (Not an ideal way to pack for a trip!) He had a double ear infection, so good call on the Doctor's visit! We were a bit wary about the other boys because a stomach bug had been going around their classrooms but it seemed as though they were in the clear.

Cut to Saturday. Gabe is feeling better after a 3-day antibiotic. The boys are thrilled to to be going to Florida - they were VERY surprised! - and we get on our way. The Manchester airport is like candy - not crowded and easy to navigate. The flight down is a titch bumpy and Gabe gets a 6.5 out of 10 for handling the trip. Not awesome but not horrible. YAY! We are in the amazing 85 degree, sunny-ness of Florida!!

All is very well the first couple of days. (I have a very funny running story to insert here but that's another post). We go to EPCOT on Monday and that goes great, too: a little crowded but the boys are troopers and patient and everyone gets to do the things on their 'must do' list.

Christmas Eve starts out great. I go out for a 4:30AM run (my attempt to not interrupt everyone's plans with my running. Not so bad when it's a gorgeous 50-something degrees at that hour!). When I return I get showered and go for a walk around my in-law's neighborhood with Gabe and Elliott. Elliott quietly tells me that he had a bit of a problem in the bathroom earlier and that's why he changed his clothes. (I hadn't actually noticed). Long story short: he thought he had to go #1 when a surprising #2 showed up. To his credit, he did his best. And completely understandably, he was really embarrassed and didn't want to tell anyone except me about it. When we got back inside I went to his room to assess the situation. Oh. My. Plastic bags, stain remover for the carpet, and trip to the side yard and the garden hose were immediately in order for several pieces of clothing. Also, a very hot water wash in the washing machine.

Okay. No big deal. He wasn't feeling sick. Just given strict instructions to ALWAYS sit when he had to go to the bathroom for the duration of our trip. Just in case....

Cue Christmas Eve night. I go to bed pretty early because a cough is coming on and I'm tired from some pretty big runs I've taken. Around 11:30 I hear Scott bolt out of bed and I am up immediately because...

Tommy has barfed all over his bed and the floor next to it. Varsity level barf. Varsity level in consistency and color and smell. Varsity level fun. Back to the hose. Back to the hot water wash. New sheets. New pillow cases. Lame attempt to clean up the carpet. Though he never told us he wasn't feeling great, he had seemed tired all day and didn't eat much at dinner. Thankfully, just after the up chuck, he felt much better and went straight to sleep.

My throat and lungs, on the other hand, decided that this was the time to go nuts. I started coughing. And coughing. And COUGHING. After a few minutes I left the room for the couch. I made some tea. I drank lots of water. Eventually I took the Children's Cough Medicine (BLECH!) and I got a couple of hours of sleep.

Christmas day was mostly uneventful... E had one more 'oops' but it was easily taken care of. Scott very kindly made sure I had a couple of nap opportunities, thank goodness. I had, however, managed to cough so hard in the night that I pulled some muscles in the chest and shoulder. That's a special kind of idiot injury, don't you think?

On the 26th we had to head home. The trip was fine - though Orlando airport was CRAZY and we literally had 5 minutes to spare before we had to board when we got to our gate. Most difficult was the drive home from the airport. A snowstorm was blowing through and it was a sllooowwww go. We got home in basically one piece and immediately had to re-pack for a trip to upstate New York for my parents' 50th wedding anniversary party. We made it happen because we are, let's face it, mostly just made of awesome.

That night, Tommy came into our room to let us know... he barfed again. This time in the hallway because he was trying to get from his top bunk to the bathroom. Once again he felt a lot better when we was done but we had the fun of cleaning up yet another spew in the middle of the night.

The next morning everyone woke up feeling okay. I managed to get squeezed into my chiropractor to get my neck and shoulder back into place from my coughing nonsense Christmas Eve. We got on our way to NYS and all was well... until about 1/2 way through Vermont when Gabe barfed all over the back of the car.

I really wonder about the folks who drove by us at that point:  a woman on the side of a snowy road undressing an unhappy toddler in the freezing cold. Thankfully I had a spare pair of jammies for him NOT buried in the suitcase. Scott did his level best to get the barf-ness removed from the car but you can imagine that the scent of it lingered for the next 5 hours of our trip. We called my mom at this point and begged to stay at her place instead of the cheap motel we had reserved... the whole point of the weekend was to NOT stay at Mom and Dad's since we wanted them to enjoy their family, not cater to us! Of course Mom was happy and excited at the idea of spending more time with us, even if it was virally-gained.

Finally, we made it up the long, snowy road to my parents' and Scott said, "Please just find out what bed we are staying in. I am not going to make it long." And he didn't. When we got there he had a very high fever and was just 'done'. He went to bed and I unloaded the car and the boys ... a very long process! When I went down to check on him and encouraged him to take something for his fever, he said his stomach was not feeling up to taking anything. I suggested that the boys felt a lot better after they threw up, so maybe he should try that.

An hour or so later when I came down to bed, he reported a successful "boot" and that he felt better already. The next morning he was not at 100% but by the time we left the house a little after noon, he was back to normal.

Off to the 'schmancy' hotel we went. Pool time for the boys and then we got dressed for the party. It was a wonderful time (pics, sometime... IDK why my family who had cameras have not posted any yet!) with the usual noise, chaos, laughter and joy that my family specializes in.

Back to the hotel we went. We were very nervous about Gabe's ability to sleep with all of us in the same room. So, Scott took Tom and Elliott back to the pool in hopes that G would go to sleep and not awaken when they QUIETLY returned. Worked like a charm. He was super tired and basically begged for his pack n' play. YAY!

And then, about 11:30, Tom started talking in his sleep. He talks a lot in his sleep and when it's 'upset' talk, I have found that usually means he has to go to the bathroom. So, I woke him up and told him to go to the bathroom. He went but didn't have to pee. Went back to bed and continued to have very upsetting sleep talk. Eventually he woke up fully and said his stomach was hurting.

He had stomach cramps. Horrible, horrible stomach cramps. He was in pain and it made him angry. And it made him not-very-quiet. By the grace of God, he didn't wake up Gabe with his hollering. We went into the bathroom and I tried to help him breathe through the pain. The cramps died down eventually and he went back to bed. For a while. Then they kicked in again. The 'cure' I think, was when I told him to get into 'child's pose', which I assured him would get any gas in his belly out. It did. And then led to a very drawn out session in the bathroom. Which mom needed to be present for. I won't go into details here but let's say we had a few flushes before things finished up. I was worried we weren't done at this point so I pulled out my phone and we watched an episode of The Regular Show on Netflix on the floor of the hotel bathroom.  I told him I was hoping we were taking a horrible time and making a sort of nice memory out of it. "Remember that time we watched The Regular Show on the floor of the hotel bathroom...?"

At LAST back to bed. And my coughing started. Just like Christmas Eve. I went straight the bathroom hoping not to wake anyone. I downed the last of the Children's Tylenol (could not find the cough medicine or Ibuprofin...) but the coughing did not let up. Scott got up and reminded me that there was hot water and lemons in the lobby. So, down I went. That would totally do it!

But no. The beautiful lemons were plastic. The hot water had been put away for the night. The desk clerk gave me a tea bag and said I could heat up water in the room's Kuerig. Had I been more with it I would have said "DUH! I don't want to wake up my whole family!" but I did not. I just said "thanks" bought Tommy an overpriced Vitamin Water (to stay off dehydration, I hoped) and headed back to our room.

The tea worked and the kids didn't wake up, despite the noisy production process. I finally stopped coughing and everyone was drifting off to sleep. It was about 2AM.

And then the bars got out. And the nut jobs in town streamed into the small city streets below us. And there was a fight. I honestly thought it was a small riot. The yelling was crazy. Couldn't tell what they were saying but they had STRONG feelings about it, let me tell you. Eventually: police sirens. It was PERFECT. Scott and I were officially NEVER going to sleep. (Thank the good Lord, the kids managed to sleep through this!)

At some point this stuff settled down. At some point I went to sleep. I am guessing that I enjoyed it. I am guessing it was really lovely.

At 5AM Tommy woke up again with awful pain. Back to the bathroom for some fun. Short lived, thank heavens.

But this time, Gabe heard the party going on and said to himself, "Five in the morning, it's time to get up!!"

So, Gabe and I left the room. We went down to the lobby. (Thank heavens it was a nice lobby with cable TV). We walked around the halls of the hotel. We went to Starbucks. We hung out in the lobby some more. At some point my sister and her husband came down to use the gym. We had a nice chat and she read a book to Gabe and I took a mental break. At some other point my niece came down because her family was still asleep and she was still on South Korea time from her semester abroad. And at some point (about 8AM) I got a message from Scott that they were awake and it was safe to return to the room.

He was ready to scoot the boys out so I could sleep for awhile. All I could think of was the 20 mile run I was meant to take. I had set my alarm for 4:30 so I could get it done. Sometime around 2AM I turned the alarm off. But I had to get SOMETHING in. I was wide awake. I probably could have slept but I felt fine at that time. So, I got on my running clothes and instructed Scott to come and pick me up in about 90 minutes. It would not be 20 miles, but it would at least be about 10. And it would be on some kick ass hills.

(This is not really a post about running so I will say nothing here of the chilly but lovely weather that quickly turned to chilly and rainy weather that quickly turned to chilly and icy weather that led to a big car accident that led my family members who knew I was running in that direction to panic about my well being.. I was fine, thanks, but very glad to have my pick up from Scott when I did!)

And so I did. And so he did. And so we went back to my parents house where a wild snow storm ensued. And we had another lovely day with family and food and even some football, which we do have some capacity to appreciate despite our low level of sportiness.

And most importantly, after the rough night we had and given the not-so-pleasant weather, we chose not to go to my sister's place in the Syracuse-area that night and stay at my folks' again instead. This choice proved very wise as it we avoided getting stuck on the side of the snowy road along with her family and 7 other cars for several hours on THAT fateful trip. (If that had happened, Scott says he would have gone completely "Clark Griswold" on me.)

We got home late yesterday afternoon. As we sat down to dinner, I looked at Elliott and said, "Do you feel okay?" He did not.

He had a fever....

Of COURSE he did.

Griswold's Snoozetime and Car Ride Fun (Part 2)

Don't miss Part 1, in which a The House of Giessler was subject to a mighty rough night's sleep.

The Gawd-That-Seemed-Like-No-Sleep-At-All night's sleep did not translate into a peaceful, Let's-Relax-and-Recover morning for Scott. He needed to be out the door at 6:30 AM in order to fight rush hour traffic off the Cape, through Boston and back to camp by 11:00. I returned from my run by 5:50 and the boys were awake and buzzing with noise (GAH!) though they had contained themselves to our room, at least. Scott got in the shower and out the door on time. Our merry band was packed up and gonzo by 7:15. Excellent!

We trudged along pretty slowly on Route 3 toward Boston but Gabriel was (blessedly) taking a Varsity level nap and the boys and I were engrossed in The Spiderwick Chronicles on CD so life was good. Just south of Boston, my phone rang with Scott asking how our progress was going.

"Not horrible but we are stop and go on 93 just south of the JFK library."
"Okay, well, I'm at a service station. The van is on the lift. The brakes seemed to be failing and they were getting kind of smoky with all the stop and go through the city."

(The same brakes we had fixed LITERALLY a month ago, I might add).

He wasn't sure exactly how long a repair would take but I assured him we would catch up to him just in case it was not a one-day fix. I was somewhat anxious. Not because of the van - that sonofagun is always dying in some way - but because Boston drivers are notoriously aggressive and Boston roads are notoriously impossible to navigate for non-natives. So, I listened very carefully to where Scott said he was and how I should get there.

"I'm just beyond the airport. Take the Ted Williams Tunnel through the airport. I'm on Route 60 north at Joe's (not it's real name) Shop."

That sounded a little weird to me, but again, Boston is no grid so if that's how I needed to get there, I would do it.

Ted Williams Tunnel? Check.
Logan Airport? Check.
Route 60 North... Ummmm... where does one exit the airport onto Route 60? I saw Arrivals and Departures... I saw Terminals A - Whatever.... But when I got all the way around the airport loop, there was no sign for Route 60 North.

I had a stressed out conversation with Scott as I was traveling this bit.

"Honey, you said go through the airport. Was I supposed to LITERALLY go into Logan?"
"No! You just needed to follow signs to the airport and then take Route 1A to Route 60 North."

Grrrrr..... Route 1A had not come up in our previous conversations. In his defense, I have gone back and forth to Cape Cod dozens of times so I should have known this. In MY defense, I have never driven back and forth to Cape Cod using this route because the rotaries + the insane drivers + the useless signage scare the piss out of me. I generally stick to 93 South which has more traffic but it's impossible to get lost.

SO, I got back onto Route 93 south with the intention of getting OFF ASAP where I can turn around, head BACK through the Ted Williams and try again. Brilliant. No problem.

Except the first available exit, though easily found and easily navigated, was not far enough south. I was still north of the Ted Williams.

FRICK!

Back on the phone.

"Okay, I can't get back to the Ted Williams. I'm going over the Tobin Bridge and I'm going to take Route 1. Then I'm going to pull off and put the address of the shop into the Garmin and find you that way."

Except he didn't get a street name and when I put in "195 Route 60 North, Revere" nothing came up. Oh, and there was NO WHERE to pull off so I had to do this while driving down the road. Safety First is my middle name.

But I knew that somewhere along the line Route 1 and Route 1A meet up. And then Route 60 couldn't be far behind.

And suddenly, there it was. A rotary with, I swear, signs for Route 1, 1A, 16 AND 60... altogether. And it looked familiar.

I was of course in the COMPLETE wrong lane for getting on 60 north. I had to be a total Masshole and block traffic in order to get to where I needed to go. BUT, I did it.

Gabe, by the way, literally slept the ENTIRE time and once I explained for the 4th or 5th time to Tommy & Elliott that "Mom is a little stressed out right now about finding Dad so PLEASE stop asking me questions because I canNOT talk to your right now...." they were quiet and patient, too.

In the end, I got to the shop, we went to a mall for a couple of hours, had an early lunch, returned to the shop to get the car, paid an obnoxious amount for brakes that were JUST fixed, and we got home around 3:00.

We leave on Saturday for my sister's just outside Philly. So I ask you, "What could POSSIBLE go wrong!?"

Vital Insight

I've had enough going on to post a couple of blogs a day, I'd say, but as these things go, the more you've got to say, the less time there is to say it. I can't go another moment, though without sharing this insight that came to me while we were at Disney's Hollywood Studios last week. If you've ever been, you probably went to see the Muppets 3-D show. I've seen it lots of times and it is pretty delightful and amusing, even after all these exposures.

My insight was with the character Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, the scientist. I'm watching the show, Bunsen shows up and WHAM! Like a flash of 38-years-of-the-obvious....

Bunsen Honeydew is so named because  

HIS HEAD IS SHAPED LIKE (and the color of) A MELON!!

I felt like such an idiot for never making that connection before. (I mean, I'm not a rabid fan but Muppets have been in my life as long as ANYONE and ANYTHING!) You can imagine my relief when I pointed this out to Scott (embarrassed by my own lack of observation earlier) and he said, "Huh, I guess you're right. I never put that together either."

So... is it just the clueless Giesslers or did you never notice the Melon on Bunsen Honeydew either?