Hi nice people.
My scattered is brain right now because I’m working and trying to get ready for a nine day vacation to the Outer Banks of North Carolina where Shawn and the boys and I will stay with extended family, some of whom we haven’t seen in 15 years. So please excuse me for writing in bullet points, as I’m in list-making mode and seemingly incapable of connecting thoughts.
- Last Saturday I ran the 5k Bozeman Classic race. I wanted to beat my time from the last time I ran it, seven years ago. I’ve been thinking about how at some point every aging athlete has to come to grips with the fact that they can no longer do what they used to, even with effort and training. Luckily, I don’t think I’m there quite yet. I started the race with the goal of hitting each mile split in 7 minutes and 30 seconds. Last time I ran the race I did it in 23:44. When I hit the 2-mile mark under 15 minutes I thought, Hashimoto’s you can kiss my ass! I crossed the finish line in 23:04, which while not fast enough to place me top three in my age group, still felt really good. Also, I might be watching too much of the Olympics.
- Speaking of Hashimoto’s, have I mentioned I’ve been losing my hair? I like my hair. I really don’t want to lose very much of it. Here’s what the info. with my piggy pills — which, by the way, do not taste even a tiny bit like bacon (HELLO makers of Nature Throid) — says about it: “Hair loss may occur during the first few months of treatment. This effect is usually (!) temporary as your body adjusts to the medication...Remember your doctor has prescribed this medication because he or she has judged that the benefit to your health is greater than the side effects.” Which I read as, Cowboy Up, girlfriend. Then Shawn showed me this article about this radiant young woman on the British cycling team, who has alopecia, meaning, her body forms antibodies that attack her hair follicles. Anyway, seeing her calmed my fears about losing my hair, and autoimmunity in general. To me her message is that we all get to choose who we want to be in this world, despite the hand we are dealt or the situation we are in. We all get to choose empowerment or victimhood, joy or despair. Thank you Joanna Roswell for being your brave, badass self and for being way more than your hair.
- I’m trying to figure out tangible ways to control stress, as that plays a role in autoimmune flare-ups. (Ways that don’t cost a lot of money.) Last weekend Shawn announced he was taking a nap — it might have been an invitation of sorts — and I told him that I was either going to go run in the 95-degree heat, or start packing. It was 4 p.m. I was exhausted and am generally unwilling to admit such a thing except for the fact that I've been learning more about the stress/autoimmune connection. Would it be so blasphemous to lay down for an hour with a book and just see if I felt nappy? So I did and I ZONKED OUT. Forty-five minutes later, I felt fabulous. Why is slowing down so hard for me? Are there things you do that work to quiet your mind and take care of your body?
- It’s hard to leave my garden during harvest time. Also, I hate leaving Angus. Angus is just a dog. Still.
- It’s been a while since I’ve mentioned Oldest Son, who is having himself quite the adventure in the wilds of Alaska. He’s working harder than ever has before, but he’s also taking rides in bush planes, catching big fish, spotting animals like bear and moose (he recently saw a small bear swimming within 10 feet of his fishing boat) and generally becoming a man. He’s also just informed me that he’s moving out with friends as soon as he gets home, and has made a deposit on his first apartment. “But…But…You could always live at home for a few weeks and take some time to figure out who you want to live with,” I told him on the phone. Does one miss their newly-independent children more when they’re in Alaska, or when they live in the same town and don’t come around enough? I’ll report back on that one.
- I don’t know what else. I’ll be back in a few weeks with sand in my toes and photos to share. And I promise this won’t become the Hashimoto’s blog. That would bore us all.