Had a very disappointing race this weekend. Leading up to it, I thought I was a little off PR pace, but not much. I had gained a couple of pounds in America but didn't think it mattered too much.
This was a half marathon. We started out running two loops around a track, which was cool. I found myself in a front group of three, with me in the back (as is my weasly nature). At 2K, one of the two guys fell off the back, leaving me with a man in his late 20s, who wore a "save Tibet" shirt and long compression-type socks. Needless to say, I thought I had this one in the bag. My parents had come to watch the Lorax during the race, and I figured they would think it was cool to see their son win a big(ish) race like this.
Then at 5K, I had half a cup of some Gatorade-like drink. It didn't sit well in my stomach. I had fallen behind the guy at the aid stating but caught back up almost immediately. I was planning my attack, when the legs started getting increasingly heavy. Then it was holding on for dear life for a couple of Ks and I finally let go at 7K.
At 12K, the stomach cleared up and I ran OK the rest of the way. As I was finishing, I thought I had run a low 1:15, which would be a little worse than expected. However, my real time was low 1:17 (don't know the exact time as the timing system required me to walk through the shute and then back to the finish line to scan my chip).
The Girl came in in PR time (again, not sure of the exact time), in around 1.34.30. She outsprinted another woman to take third place. We both got a small cash prize (so far we are making money off the races here in Denmark).
I don't know what happened. I have to get back to the drawing board. I have to lose some weight. More miles; keep up the intervals.
------
On a side note, I was out of town for a few days to a hematology meeting. The Girl came with me for the first couple of days. It was in Odense, the birth place of Hans Christian Andersen. The hotel room must have had some fairy tale dusy left over from his day, because I had the two most vivid dreams I have had in a while.
Dream # 1 had me back in medical school. I have always said I never want to be the Guinea pig in any study involving brain imaging, because I would be afraid of what they would find. Nevertheless, in this dream I was rolling through the CT scanner and when the scan got to my brain, my whole medical school class, which included the Girl (and a childhood friend named Anders, whom I haven't seen in years), screamed in horror. Or was it more like amusement? I tried to ask what they had seen, but suddenly someone was reading the CT real time from the neck down. Everything was normal and I forgot about the yelling.
The class ended. The other students evaded the topid of the CT scan and, finally, the radiologist called me into a room to tell me that I had had a huge stroke. I protested, saying I didn't have any symptoms to which he said "then it's probably a tumor". In the dream, I looked at the scan and decided it was inoperable and went about my life. Other dreams came and through all of them I had the horrible knowledge of the inoperable brain tumore growing inside my skull. It felt great to wake up.
Dream # 2 was almost worse. We were in a cabin in the country, again with my childhood friend Anders and some other people. The Girl's ex-husband was there and we were all getting along well. I woke up in the middle of the night to find the Girl gone. As fate would have it, she entered the room, stating that she had slept with her ex-husband the last three nights. I don't think I said anything, but she went on to volunteer that she had simply slept in his bed these three nights. In the dream, I remember wondering where the Lorax had slept , figuring that if she was going to cheat on me, at least she could bring the little midnight cartwheel with her. Then she told me that she had gone to second base with her ex-husband, and I remember wondering what exactly that meant.
Next scene, the Girl and I had made up (turns out I could live with second base). Her ex-husband left, carrying a brown leather bag stylishly over his shoulder.
I know the origins of everything in those dreams:
1. Lately, I have asked myself almost daily: "if you suddenly had cancer and had 6 months left, how would you feel?". I see these people every day and I wonder what it is like. That must explain the brain tumor.
2. My brother saw my old friend last weekend.
3. There was a hematologist, who looked suspiciously like the Girl's Ex.
4. We talked about Daughter growing up so fast and discussed kids making out (including the baseball terminology).
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Being stalked
About 6 months ago a lady in a minivan ran over the front wheel of our baby jogger. Our son, 8 months old at the time, was unharmed but it was a scary experience.
She came out from a parking lot, wanting to turn right. Did the usual long look to the left, while advancing onto the road. When she started looking right, she saw us and slammed on the brakes. I have seen this happen hundreds of times and have been the embarrassed driver on a few of those occasions.
Well, we made our eye contact and I even remember her giving us a sheepish smile. We started going. And so did she. Then things happened pretty quickly; The stroller was toppling over while I was holding on to it. The front of her van har missed it but the back wheel caught it as she was turning. The girl started pounding on the van and I kicked it while still holding on to the baby jogger. She drove on slowly, like she didn't know whether to stop and the sped up. The Girl grabbed the baby jogger and I ran after the van - and actually got the license number.
We called the police and an officer came to take a statement. He said since there was damage to property and she didn't stop, he would charge it as a hit-and-run.
I called a couple of days later to find out what was going on. They still hadn't found her, a guy said; it was probably not the right license plate number I had given them.
Then two months later, it turns out that the police did find her. She claimed to not know about the baby jogger being run over. As she puts it "I would have known if I had run over something, since I live in the country". Okay. The charges were lowered to inattentive driving, which probably just means a small ticket. Oh well.
But now it got weird. This lady had written to our hospital and to the state medical licensing board about being attacked by two doctors while driving peacefully in her car. Suddenly, we had to defend ourselves. Her letters were bizarre and she neglected to mention that the police already looked at the case (and that we were the ones to call the police). She talked about how I must have been on steroids at the time, since she had googled my name and found out that I was a runner.
Oh well, right? We decided not to contact her (ie. touch her with a ten-foot pole) to ge the stroller paid for. We figured she got what she wanted: a diminished penalty and not having to replace the stroller.
But no. We just got a letter from our boss at the hospital that she wrote another letter full of what he calls "confidential information" about us. She even writes that she knows that we were visiting town last week! And she is from another town, by the way, so it's not like she saw us.
So we have a stalker on our hands, apparently. These days, it's pretty easy to ruin someone's reputation, especially a physician's.
We regret reporting the traffic incident, since she got our names off the police report. We are worried about how she knows all this "confidential" information about us and how she knew we were in town. We worry about the kids, who have my unusual last name, and whom she could easily find.
We don't know if we should call the police and report her for harassment or what to do. The hospital is letting us know - in so many words - that the lady seems crazy, but they are still treating this as a patient complaint of sorts (big of sorts, as she was never a patient of either of us). Unfortunately, she is a patient at the hospital, so they do have to regard her letters with some seriousness.
Crazy stuff.
She came out from a parking lot, wanting to turn right. Did the usual long look to the left, while advancing onto the road. When she started looking right, she saw us and slammed on the brakes. I have seen this happen hundreds of times and have been the embarrassed driver on a few of those occasions.
Well, we made our eye contact and I even remember her giving us a sheepish smile. We started going. And so did she. Then things happened pretty quickly; The stroller was toppling over while I was holding on to it. The front of her van har missed it but the back wheel caught it as she was turning. The girl started pounding on the van and I kicked it while still holding on to the baby jogger. She drove on slowly, like she didn't know whether to stop and the sped up. The Girl grabbed the baby jogger and I ran after the van - and actually got the license number.
We called the police and an officer came to take a statement. He said since there was damage to property and she didn't stop, he would charge it as a hit-and-run.
I called a couple of days later to find out what was going on. They still hadn't found her, a guy said; it was probably not the right license plate number I had given them.
Then two months later, it turns out that the police did find her. She claimed to not know about the baby jogger being run over. As she puts it "I would have known if I had run over something, since I live in the country". Okay. The charges were lowered to inattentive driving, which probably just means a small ticket. Oh well.
But now it got weird. This lady had written to our hospital and to the state medical licensing board about being attacked by two doctors while driving peacefully in her car. Suddenly, we had to defend ourselves. Her letters were bizarre and she neglected to mention that the police already looked at the case (and that we were the ones to call the police). She talked about how I must have been on steroids at the time, since she had googled my name and found out that I was a runner.
Oh well, right? We decided not to contact her (ie. touch her with a ten-foot pole) to ge the stroller paid for. We figured she got what she wanted: a diminished penalty and not having to replace the stroller.
But no. We just got a letter from our boss at the hospital that she wrote another letter full of what he calls "confidential information" about us. She even writes that she knows that we were visiting town last week! And she is from another town, by the way, so it's not like she saw us.
So we have a stalker on our hands, apparently. These days, it's pretty easy to ruin someone's reputation, especially a physician's.
We regret reporting the traffic incident, since she got our names off the police report. We are worried about how she knows all this "confidential" information about us and how she knew we were in town. We worry about the kids, who have my unusual last name, and whom she could easily find.
We don't know if we should call the police and report her for harassment or what to do. The hospital is letting us know - in so many words - that the lady seems crazy, but they are still treating this as a patient complaint of sorts (big of sorts, as she was never a patient of either of us). Unfortunately, she is a patient at the hospital, so they do have to regard her letters with some seriousness.
Crazy stuff.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
It's off to America
It's off to America to see the kids. I can't wait to surrpise them after school tomorrow. Daughter knows we are coming, but not Son. It's been 4 months (almost) since he saw me, so I am a little worried about how he is going to react. Hopefully, it'll be just like where we left off.
We are lucky enough to have a non-stop flight from Copenhagen to Chicago. The Lorax is still a lap child so we are hoping for an open seat next to us. We'll practice Danish "History and Physicals" for as long as we can stomach it. The Girl will sleep, whereas I won't be able to. I'll watch three half movies and read the flight magazine a few times.
I hear Wisconsin is beautiful this time of year. Not. In fact, March is probably the worst month in Wisconsin; the skiing is gone but the trails aren't ready for running. And forget about biking. Hopefully, we'll get a few runs in on the old trails. The Girl's knee is getting better every day. It's not quite normal but she is back to running her usual amounts.
We are lucky enough to have a non-stop flight from Copenhagen to Chicago. The Lorax is still a lap child so we are hoping for an open seat next to us. We'll practice Danish "History and Physicals" for as long as we can stomach it. The Girl will sleep, whereas I won't be able to. I'll watch three half movies and read the flight magazine a few times.
I hear Wisconsin is beautiful this time of year. Not. In fact, March is probably the worst month in Wisconsin; the skiing is gone but the trails aren't ready for running. And forget about biking. Hopefully, we'll get a few runs in on the old trails. The Girl's knee is getting better every day. It's not quite normal but she is back to running her usual amounts.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Goals for 2009
I ran a smooth 22 miles yesterday; felt stronger than ever during such a long run. The last five miles were at 6 to 6:15 minute miles. This is when I should be setting goals for the year.
There was a time in my 20s when I would say "I want to PR in everything", and some years this came true. Those days are over, but I still think there is a PR or two in me this year.
First off, my half-marathon PR is something I have an eye on. It's 1:13.54 and actually one of my stronger PRs, if not the strongest. On the other hand, it's probably the distance I am most comfortable with right now. And while it was set on a day (almost two years ago) when everything clicked, there was a headwind and it was cold.
I don't really have a marathon PR so if I run one, I guess it's a PR. But that's a little cheap, so I won't make it an official goal. If I end up running an official marathon, my goal will be sub 2:40, though.
My 10k PR, I think, is 33:32. I never felt like that PR was as fast as I could go. There were a few years when I ran tons of 5Ks and 5000s but just a few 10Ks (and never a 10,000, actually). To get that PR, though, I would need to do a little more speedwork. We'll see.
I don't think my 5K of 15:59 or 5000 of 15:57 are in danger. I'm too old; the speed is gone.
To keep myself honest, here are the official 2009 goals:
Half marathon 1:14.30
Marathon 2:40
10K 33:45
5K 16:20
What about ultras? Currently, there are non on the agenda (other than Trans-alpine, where the goal for me is to enjoy my honeymoon). If one pops up, we'll see.
There was a time in my 20s when I would say "I want to PR in everything", and some years this came true. Those days are over, but I still think there is a PR or two in me this year.
First off, my half-marathon PR is something I have an eye on. It's 1:13.54 and actually one of my stronger PRs, if not the strongest. On the other hand, it's probably the distance I am most comfortable with right now. And while it was set on a day (almost two years ago) when everything clicked, there was a headwind and it was cold.
I don't really have a marathon PR so if I run one, I guess it's a PR. But that's a little cheap, so I won't make it an official goal. If I end up running an official marathon, my goal will be sub 2:40, though.
My 10k PR, I think, is 33:32. I never felt like that PR was as fast as I could go. There were a few years when I ran tons of 5Ks and 5000s but just a few 10Ks (and never a 10,000, actually). To get that PR, though, I would need to do a little more speedwork. We'll see.
I don't think my 5K of 15:59 or 5000 of 15:57 are in danger. I'm too old; the speed is gone.
To keep myself honest, here are the official 2009 goals:
Half marathon 1:14.30
Marathon 2:40
10K 33:45
5K 16:20
What about ultras? Currently, there are non on the agenda (other than Trans-alpine, where the goal for me is to enjoy my honeymoon). If one pops up, we'll see.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Work
I'm ready for a new season to start. The weight is pretty low; I am seeing 65s on the scale in the morning and am hoping to see a 64 before leaving for the US next week. My anal running rhythm was broken apart for two weeks but last night I was back at my "usual" evening intervals.
To my surprise, I beat my record substantially on that loop, by about 20 seconds over 5 miles of intervals.
I am ready to race. Next up is a half marathon in three and a half weeks. I hesitate to put a goal time down yet but I am guessing between 1:15 and 1:16. If it's a fast course, I may dip below 1:15. My PR at 1:13.53 will certainly not move.
Work is getting to me a little bit. The other day, a lady came to the clinic as a new patient. She came referred with a new diagnosis of a slow-growing lymphoma. Another doctor had told her that she would take a few pills and be cured and I had the pleasure of telling her that it wasn't so. You are never cured of the slow-growing type lymphomas, unfortunately, and she didn't take the news well. I am getting sick of delivering bad news and pushing chemo on patients.
We have 15-minute slots. If it's a healthy breast cancer checkp-up, it's in-out, feel for lumps, order new meds, dictate, and you can barely do it in 15 minutes. If someone has an active malignant disease, or comes in for their first chemo, it would be inhuman to even try to complete a visit in 15 minutes. Sometimes, patients have non-cancer comlaints, which are sort of fun to deal with, but they take time. By the end of the day, I am over an hour behind. Then the patients are mad about having cancer and being late.
The good news is what makes my day. Some people with cancer, lymphoma especially comes to mind, are horribly ill when they come to us and are cured because of our wonder meds. It feels like I'm some kind of high priest, when I read the "clean" PET-CT to the patients. Their scans can go from lighting up like a Christmas tree to being completely normal.
The Girl is getting good at Danish. She starts work in a few weeks. Her running has been better, though. Her knees hurt for some reason, and she won't take the needed time off. This all stems back to the marathon almost two months ago. She ran that race in racing flats, in the cold, almost exclusively on roads. A week off would cure her, but she won't do it.
To my surprise, I beat my record substantially on that loop, by about 20 seconds over 5 miles of intervals.
I am ready to race. Next up is a half marathon in three and a half weeks. I hesitate to put a goal time down yet but I am guessing between 1:15 and 1:16. If it's a fast course, I may dip below 1:15. My PR at 1:13.53 will certainly not move.
Work is getting to me a little bit. The other day, a lady came to the clinic as a new patient. She came referred with a new diagnosis of a slow-growing lymphoma. Another doctor had told her that she would take a few pills and be cured and I had the pleasure of telling her that it wasn't so. You are never cured of the slow-growing type lymphomas, unfortunately, and she didn't take the news well. I am getting sick of delivering bad news and pushing chemo on patients.
We have 15-minute slots. If it's a healthy breast cancer checkp-up, it's in-out, feel for lumps, order new meds, dictate, and you can barely do it in 15 minutes. If someone has an active malignant disease, or comes in for their first chemo, it would be inhuman to even try to complete a visit in 15 minutes. Sometimes, patients have non-cancer comlaints, which are sort of fun to deal with, but they take time. By the end of the day, I am over an hour behind. Then the patients are mad about having cancer and being late.
The good news is what makes my day. Some people with cancer, lymphoma especially comes to mind, are horribly ill when they come to us and are cured because of our wonder meds. It feels like I'm some kind of high priest, when I read the "clean" PET-CT to the patients. Their scans can go from lighting up like a Christmas tree to being completely normal.
The Girl is getting good at Danish. She starts work in a few weeks. Her running has been better, though. Her knees hurt for some reason, and she won't take the needed time off. This all stems back to the marathon almost two months ago. She ran that race in racing flats, in the cold, almost exclusively on roads. A week off would cure her, but she won't do it.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Week with Daughter
It's been a while since I posted. Last week, Daughter and the Girl's parents were here. Weeks like those are so hard to describe; regular life seems to stand still. Daughter came out from the customs clearance area at the airport, looking her old self. She ran over to me and we hugged for a few minutes. I'm sure everyone was staring at us.
How strange and wonderful to see her again. When she was younger, I knew every detail of her life. Her entire frame of reference was shaped by me. We would take walks together every day, read books at the library, tell stories at night. I had such a simple life back then and she fit in perfectly. One of my favorite memories is still picking her up from day care on my way home from school. Every time, we would do the same thing on the way home. She had to balance on the same wall, climb halfway up an old anchor and look at fish through the window at the pet store.
Slowly, things changed. The hellish intern year and the divorce. When Ex-wife first moved out, my mind and body were in full rebellion. It became obvious then that there wasn't much else in my life other than the kids. But things changed slowly. People I didn't know began taking care of the kids.
Then the Girl came into my life. At least for a while, she was more important than the kids. We were so in love and I will never forget that time. But the kids were pushed onto the back burner and I slid a little farther out of their lives.
Then came a time when I had the kids twice a week. We had some great nights, playing, hiking and swimming. I no longer knew everything in their lives; I didn't know how they were doing in school. I only knew their friends as names.
And then we moved. We'll see if it turns out to be the biggest mistake in my life. Very often, it feels like a mistake. Talk about a personal crisis those first weeks, I was ready to jump on the first plane back to Wisconsin.
But. In 5 months, Daughter is coming to live here, and maybe that's the part that makes all this worth while. This week, it seemed a little like the old days. We went to the library and found a book that we read together and talked about. We went to museums that we would discuss at night before going to bed. She had a million questions about Denmark and about life that I tried to answer. She has a life in Wisconsin I know increasingly little about, but this week, it felt like I was able to direct everything new that was fed into her brain.
5 months is a long time, of course, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
How strange and wonderful to see her again. When she was younger, I knew every detail of her life. Her entire frame of reference was shaped by me. We would take walks together every day, read books at the library, tell stories at night. I had such a simple life back then and she fit in perfectly. One of my favorite memories is still picking her up from day care on my way home from school. Every time, we would do the same thing on the way home. She had to balance on the same wall, climb halfway up an old anchor and look at fish through the window at the pet store.
Slowly, things changed. The hellish intern year and the divorce. When Ex-wife first moved out, my mind and body were in full rebellion. It became obvious then that there wasn't much else in my life other than the kids. But things changed slowly. People I didn't know began taking care of the kids.
Then the Girl came into my life. At least for a while, she was more important than the kids. We were so in love and I will never forget that time. But the kids were pushed onto the back burner and I slid a little farther out of their lives.
Then came a time when I had the kids twice a week. We had some great nights, playing, hiking and swimming. I no longer knew everything in their lives; I didn't know how they were doing in school. I only knew their friends as names.
And then we moved. We'll see if it turns out to be the biggest mistake in my life. Very often, it feels like a mistake. Talk about a personal crisis those first weeks, I was ready to jump on the first plane back to Wisconsin.
But. In 5 months, Daughter is coming to live here, and maybe that's the part that makes all this worth while. This week, it seemed a little like the old days. We went to the library and found a book that we read together and talked about. We went to museums that we would discuss at night before going to bed. She had a million questions about Denmark and about life that I tried to answer. She has a life in Wisconsin I know increasingly little about, but this week, it felt like I was able to direct everything new that was fed into her brain.
5 months is a long time, of course, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Fast
I feel fast right now.
Our lives have fallen into a rhythm that sees me running more at night. We are too busy to run together during the week, so it works better for me to run at night. I have found a route, where I run 5 minute intervals with 2 minute breaks. I have run that same route five times and gotten considerably faster every time.
The weight is slowly coming off but it has really taken some serious dieting. I was down to 65.7 this morning. Hoping to see 64 next week at which point I will consider the diet complete.
Last night, the legs were so smooth and fast. It's been a while since I have felt this good. I will be curious to see how I fare in competition. Now watch me get injured, of course.
We signed up for the Transalpine race and are getting really excited. Since we are running as a couple, the Girl will be the deciding factor. We do have to find a way for me to push or pull her, though. That will take some strange training sessions, probably running intervals with my hand on her butt. It's 8 days of running, from Germany to Italy (through Austria and Switzerland).
Work is okay. I still feel unprepared. Last weekend, I was at a weekend retreat for young hematologists and was told that my department was notorious for poor supervision. So it's not just me.
One patient encounter still creeps me out. I was seeing a 41-year old woman with lung cancer. It was apparently my job to inform her that her cancer was now everywhere in her body. That her chemo hadn't worked at all, and that she most likely just had a few months left. Naturally, a young woman like that has a million questions and needed someone with more experience than me. It was terrible to be in that room, listening to myself stumble over words. Her type of cancer can be very responsive to a new kind of targeted therapy so I am crossing my fingers she will get some months or, even, years from that.
And. Daughter is turning 8 tomorrow. Exactly 8 years ago, my ex-wife was going into labor during the biggest snow storm of the year. We walked outside to bring out the contractions. Tomorrow at 8:38 it's 8 years since Daughter was born. She looked around with wonder for that first lucid hour, while I kept her warm under my shirt. She has been a daddy's girl ever since, even now, with the Atlantic between us. She is visiting in 10 short days and I can't wait.
Our lives have fallen into a rhythm that sees me running more at night. We are too busy to run together during the week, so it works better for me to run at night. I have found a route, where I run 5 minute intervals with 2 minute breaks. I have run that same route five times and gotten considerably faster every time.
The weight is slowly coming off but it has really taken some serious dieting. I was down to 65.7 this morning. Hoping to see 64 next week at which point I will consider the diet complete.
Last night, the legs were so smooth and fast. It's been a while since I have felt this good. I will be curious to see how I fare in competition. Now watch me get injured, of course.
We signed up for the Transalpine race and are getting really excited. Since we are running as a couple, the Girl will be the deciding factor. We do have to find a way for me to push or pull her, though. That will take some strange training sessions, probably running intervals with my hand on her butt. It's 8 days of running, from Germany to Italy (through Austria and Switzerland).
Work is okay. I still feel unprepared. Last weekend, I was at a weekend retreat for young hematologists and was told that my department was notorious for poor supervision. So it's not just me.
One patient encounter still creeps me out. I was seeing a 41-year old woman with lung cancer. It was apparently my job to inform her that her cancer was now everywhere in her body. That her chemo hadn't worked at all, and that she most likely just had a few months left. Naturally, a young woman like that has a million questions and needed someone with more experience than me. It was terrible to be in that room, listening to myself stumble over words. Her type of cancer can be very responsive to a new kind of targeted therapy so I am crossing my fingers she will get some months or, even, years from that.
And. Daughter is turning 8 tomorrow. Exactly 8 years ago, my ex-wife was going into labor during the biggest snow storm of the year. We walked outside to bring out the contractions. Tomorrow at 8:38 it's 8 years since Daughter was born. She looked around with wonder for that first lucid hour, while I kept her warm under my shirt. She has been a daddy's girl ever since, even now, with the Atlantic between us. She is visiting in 10 short days and I can't wait.
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