As I had anticipated, a week of dedicated vacationing and lounging (see right) has restored some buoyancy to my spirits. The combination of a riverfront vacation house, two kayaks, and a canoe has further inspired me to get my behind out on the Russian River and paddle, a thing I don't do nearly enough considering I live two blocks from a river in my normal life.
In a previous, slightly less normal life, I skittered on the fringes of the river rat community. Working for Project RAFT (Russians and Americans For Teamwork), I was initiated into the adrenaline-soaked mysteries of pool and drop rapids, standing waves, river-wide holes, undercuts, highsiding, and other ways to harm oneself. My first foray on the South Fork of the American River happened on a cloudy Tuesday in May, and our crew consisted of two world-class river guides, a graphic designer, a Russian cosmonaut, his American translator, "Red Ted," and me. We got to the river and I promptly put my wetsuit on backwards.
Over the years, I got better, and I got to have some fairly nutty adventures that involved rivers, including serving as location manager and translator on the 1994 shoot of "A Glorious Way to Die." I became a fairly strong paddler of a raft and even passed guide school at Whitewater Voyages' annual spring academy. I knew and even roomed with some fabulous kayak gods and goddesses, who worked with me more or less diligently on their craft or sullen art. Once or twice I took a real kayak on rivers with little ripples, and twice I even rolled the kayak like a real paddler.
However, I have never felt completely at ease with the kayak. River kayaks are tippy and awkward to get in and out of; sea kayaks, while more stable, are heavy and hard to turn, especially the sit-on-top kind. But I continue to be attracted to them, especially around flattish, unchallenging water. Being on and in water has always been a passion of mine. I used to have a battered river kayak that I would take out on the reservoir in Los Gatos.
So when we found this vacation house on the Russian River (now, alas, largely depleted of Russians) that came with kayaks, paddles, life jackets, and even a canoe, I was stoked beyond belief. I pictured myself spending hours out on the water every 
day, growing mightier by the minute. As it happens, I have been out almost every day, though not for hours. My shoulders, lats, various core muscles and all the bits involved in a really good paddle stroke, are not very strong at the moment, so I can't do too much at one time. Plus young Jesse, who has a four-year-old's enthusiasm for doing everything the grownups do, has wanted to be in the boat all the time that I am in the boat. This has made paddling difficult, plus he gets cold more quickly than I. Also, there are winds and tides this close to the ocean that affect our ability to paddle easily. Finally, we have to drag the kayaks up and down a fairly steep bank to make sure that the tides and winds don't carry the boats away. Russ has kayaked too, as demonstrated at right.
Nevertheless. Paddling has happened. My arms are stronger. I have learned how to balance a boat with a four-year-old in it. I have a nasty sunburn on my secondary sexual characteristics. Tomorrow we have to leave, but I am resolved to paddle more once we get home. Paddling is fun.
Seriously. Suckage is rampant and has been for a couple months now. I got bronchitis, got over it, then was crazy busy and started to feel some of the warning signs of Boo Boo Kitty Syndrome: fatigue, headaches, muscle spasms, increased tingling in limbs. Did some resting.
Then I tweaked my knee, tweaked it again, then tweaked it so I could hardly walk. Then my back started to hurt again because my knee was all tweaked. Then I found an awesome chiropractor and he started to put the pieces back together. But the day after the first visit, I got sick. Again. Green sliminess throughout my tender nasal passages, down the throat, etc. Sore throat, laryngitis, pounding headaches. Couldn't move for 3 days. 8 days later, just getting back to "human." Chiro thinks maybe he set it off by, you know, "releasing things" and "unleashing an inflammatory response." Or it could just be the same bug that decimated half my office and made my mom sick for 10 days.
Been reading about CFIDS (Chronic Fatigue/Immune Dysfunction Syndrome - as it is more technically known in the US) and frequent infections. In my 2007-2008 bout with CFIDS/Boo Boo Kitty I never got a viral infection of any kind, other than feeling like I had a weird flu 95% of the time. Now I definitely feel better overall, but I've had at least four bouts of viral weirdness in the last 9 months. And (cue Twilight Zone music) nobody ever seems to catch the bug from me, no matter how unhygienic I become with my used Kleenex.
Some researchers speculate that CFIDS is caused by a viral infection (Human Herpes Virus 6, cytomegalovirus, Epstein-Barr virus, coxsackie virus*) or mycoplasmic infection that goes "underground" in the body with varying effects. I've definitely had EBV (mono) and I also had pleurodynia, which is caused by the coxsackie virus. Connection?
Sick of being sick, tired of being tired. Had the bright idea to get Safeway to deliver groceries instead of bugging Tim to go to the store for me. Now I have more fruits and veggies in stock again. Don't know if they help but they can't hurt.
It hasn't been all grim times and thorn bushes. Great, mellow trip up to Tahoe for Memorial Day; an afternoon on and around Lake Natoma; some other great times with family and friends. But no significant exercise, and a host of questions about what may or may not be simmering inside the ol' organism.
*Yes, I did say coxsackie. Deal with it.
It's amazing how the convergence of great spring weather, the end of intensive grant deadlines, and the gradual drying up of chest mucus can restore one's natural joie de vivre. I hadn't been depressed exactly, but the joie de vivre had been hiding out in the garage or somewhere. And then this evening I came home from work and a little shopping jaunt to Target (a bunch of spring-y t-shirts and some white denim cropped jeans) to find a medium sized box on the coffee table. Closer examination revealed exotic stamps and distinctly foreign handwriting.
It was my book! My German book. So Kommen Sie in Schwung: Triathlon für Couchpotatoes. This title was the result of several transatlantic phone calls and a lot of frantic emails around the print deadline. I ended up really liking this. "So Kommen Sie in Schwung" means "Get into the Swing" or "get into the groove" or even "get going." And "Triathlon für Couchpotatoes" means, well, pretty much what you would think. I love that part. And, as you can see from the photo, Tim now has his first book cover!
Thanks so much, Nicole and Sportwelt Verlag for making this happen. A great lift and an inspiration to me to get my butt out the door on my half day off tomorrow.
So... I was going along, doing my PT, my Superman exercises, and then I kind of tailed off with that. But I was starting to be able to ride a bike a little again, a couple miles here and there, which was nice. The water gradually receded from the bike path; the little green leaves came out on the trees.
Then I got really busy at work. I worked bits of a weekend here and there, longish hours most weeks. Volunteer stuff too. Deadlines, board meetings, committee meetings, and then a bit of socializing tucked in at the edges. A week ago last Friday, we turned in a particularly troublesome grant, I met with clients for the next grant in Daly City (Kome sushi buffet - quite an experience), drove back to Sactown, met up with family for dinner, went to see Master Class at Capital Stage, and said good night to all. On the way home, my throat started twinging in that "you're getting sick" way.
Eight days later, I calculate that I have hacked up over a liter of phlegm. I have an inhaler for the spasms in my bronchial bits and a cough medicine that gives me nightmares. Or maybe that's the episodes of Being Human I've been watching. No pneumonia, no fever. Just cough and mucus and lethargy. And the urge to compensate for the lethargy and ruined weekends by eating everything in sight.
This BFFC is feeling pretty derailed at the moment. But I am NOT giving up. Grrr.
We are at grave risk of floating away here in northern California; storm after storm sweeping in from the Pacific has raised the river levels by 20 feet or more, and the flood control boffins have opened the Yolo Bypass, which spills water into a huge flood basin between Davis and Sacramento. Much of Discovery Park, which you may recall as the site of the Golden State Triathlon last October, and a key part of of my bike commute, is under 2-6 feet of water. This is also on purpose, part of the whole flood control thing. And so I am not yet commuting by bike, though my back is well enough to do so. I've hit the gym a couple times for exercise bike action, which is dull and uncomfortable, and managed a few brief walks between storms.
I'm continuing my physical therapy, mostly. I have a sunny yellow exercise ball, upon which I'm supposed to do bridging, abdominal bracing exercises - a fancy name for crunches, really - and my favorite, the Superman. Poised on the yellow sun (not Krypton's red one), I balance my belly on the ball and my toes on the ground and stretch my arms out in front of me like, you know. That guy. The exercise part is staying stable while I bend my arms and bring my hands back down to my shoulders, kind of like a lat pull in a Superman position. I can do this for a long time. I'm supposed to squinch my buttocks together as hard as I can while I do this, but sometimes I forget because I'm having so much fun just balancing on the ball.
I'm not nearly as good at the abdominal bracing, which, as I noted, bears a suspicious resemblance to crunches. Bridging is pretty easy, but I have to keep my tail tucked way under as I do it, in spite of what Eight Steps to a Pain-Free Back says.
Oh, hey, the rain has stopped and the sky is brightening a bit. I'm going out for a walk.
[a bit later]
Oh my goodness, that air was fresh. Very, very fresh.
Just a quick update. My back is pretty much back to where it was before the big episode of pain. That is, it hurts a bit and is stiff much of the time. I went to a pretty cool physical therapist at Kaiser who tested the strength and flexibility of my quads, hamstrings, butt, etc and showed me some good exercises. And I now have one of those giant exercise balls for the first time ever. I've used them at gyms and PT appointments, but now I have my very own. I'm supposed to do "Superman" exercises, which actually don't make me feel very super at all. These are to strengthen the butt, especially the left butt, which is an estimated 20% weaker than the right butt. Who knew? And I stretch my quads, especially the rectus femoris on the left side, and I take load off my lower back several times a day by leaning on a counter or table, or using the arms of a chair to un-weight the spine.
I had not one but two dear friends send me books on healing my back; so far it looks as though they directly contradict each other, but I'll see how it goes.
I notice that as I become more active again, my left knee is getting sore again. So far I've just been up to a couple of walks to and from the train station. Yesterday I push-mowed the lawn and that seemed to be enough for one day. Tuesday I have another PT appointment, so I'm going to check on what I can do to strengthen the knee too.
It's definitely a bumpy patch on the road to a Big Fat Fitness Comeback, but it has spurred me to start modifying my diet, my first serious attempt at this in a few years. I need to lighten the load on the spine and all the joints, since I don't ever want to go through 10 days like that again. I've logged back on to Weight Watchers, which has changed since I was last on it; I think for the better.
I am not going to make this a weight loss blog, except as it relates directly to the BFFC. I have had, in the past, a tendency to get very obsessive about food and weight loss when I've been working to drop pounds. I am very, very, serious about not obsessing this time. I'm not keeping a scale in the house, for example.
I will keep you posted more or less regularly on my transition from rehab back to training. I don't know how much I will be able to work the yoga into that, but obviously I will need to be diligent in some way about strengthening and stretching to keep all my bits in working order.
More soon, comrades!
I was getting ready to deliver a pretty euphoric post about the beneficial effects that yoga was having on my bod and, yes, even my mind. I had shifted my focus from going to class at the health club to doing video-guided classes at YogaToday.com. I wasn't getting any individual guidance at the club anyway, and doing yoga in the guest bedroom meant greater scheduling flexibility as well as greater freedom of attire. (No bra! yay!)
I had really started to feel the benefits of doing yoga two or three times a week. I could feel my core tightening up and my gait improving. My hips felt less tight, which I noticed every time I put on my socks. My downward dogs were easier, and I was even spending more time in the balancing poses without falling out.
On Weds 2/9 I did my usual bike commute and felt fine. On Thursday 2/10 I did my yoga. My low back felt slightly tight at the end so I did some extra stretching it at the end. Friday I thought I was getting a cold so I didn't ride. I curled up in a ball on the train home and read a children's book (the Magic Thief) until the ride was over. Late that evening I felt a twinge in the low back, in the sacroiliac joint, such as I have felt dozens of times before.
That night, I woke up a few times. As I turned over, the back hurt. Hmmm. The next morning, I was crying out in pain as I tried to brush my teeth. I could hardly move. I slipped on a convenient brown velour dress as pants were not going to be happening. Tim brought me some food, water, and Advil. I made my way downstairs and tried to sit down. Oh, no. I remained standing for the next four hours, pacing around slowly, taking deep breaths, trying to find some position that didn't hurt. Without success. I found some Tramodol from the last round of back pain, and once that took effect I was able to make it into the Big Poofy Chair and get it reclined.
It took me three hours to reach a doctor on the phone, partly because the phone people wrote my number down wrong. D'oh. Finally I got a prescription for pain meds and muscle relaxants, and Tim took off to get them.
I thought that this round of back distress would take the usual course - pain, then pain meds and muscle relaxants, then a few rounds of exercises and rapid progress to recovery. Not this time. On Monday I went for a tortuous round of doctor visits, an anti-inflammatory shot, and an x-ray by an inept technician (she forgot to close a key door or drawer or something so the machine wouldn't work). The anti-inflammatory shot had no effect whatsoever, and I was shouting and cussing every time I had to get in and out of the car.
I'm now on day 10 of this. It's a little better, but I still have to take a ton of meds to be able to walk around at all. I haven't been to the office for over a week, though I can work pretty well in the BPC. Getting ready to call the doc again.
Was it the yoga? Was it the bike? Was it a long-delayed sequela of the fender-bender of January 19th? Was it my curled up position on the train? Maybe all of the above. One of my friends wondered if I was "not listening to my body." Hard to say. Maybe not. I thought I had listened to it and it told me to do yoga. Maybe my body has multiple personality disorder.
When I can move again I'm going to have to find a super great chiropractor here in Sactown and get back to regular visits. I used to have an awesome spine and soft tissue guru in Cupertino, and she helped me with more injuries than I can shake a stick at. Clearly I need some help in that department now. Oh, yeah, and I should probably lose 50-75 pounds too.
Anyway, this is a very clear signal that I need to get very, very serious about building a better back.
day, growing mightier by the minute. As it happens, I have been out almost every day, though not for hours. My shoulders, lats, various core muscles and all the bits involved in a really good paddle stroke, are not very strong at the moment, so I can't do too much at one time. Plus young Jesse, who has a four-year-old's enthusiasm for doing everything the grownups do, has wanted to be in the boat all the time that I am in the boat. This has made paddling difficult, plus he gets cold more quickly than I. Also, there are winds and tides this close to the ocean that affect our ability to paddle easily. Finally, we have to drag the kayaks up and down a fairly steep bank to make sure that the tides and winds don't carry the boats away. Russ has kayaked too, as demonstrated at right.
