runtessrun

I never wanted a dog. I’ve always been afraid and still am, for some unknown reason. Malachi was the exception to the rule. He was as afraid of me as I was of him.

I knew Sean would like a dog so in an effort to convince him how wonderful a dog would be for him, I talked him into stepping into a pet shop while we were at the mall running errands. My intention was just for him to get the idea of how wonderful it would be. It was not in any way to support pet stores, we’re not loving that at all.

Then I saw Malachi. This beautiful Shiba Inu, looking like a tiny German Shepherd, all by himself in this glass case in the center of the store. He was tiny, terrified and wondering how the hell he got there. It was love at first sight and it was my mission to get him out of that store. We knew we were rescuing him from that place.

We brought home perfect little puppy and he made it his mission to find every little dark space we had. His favorite hiding space was under the deck. Oh, the many times we searched for him and couldn’t find him only to look there and see two glowing eyes coming from the dark place. That wasn’t creepy at all.

I mean, come on. Look at that sweet boy and those big paws. Damn he was cute.

Malachi hid from all of us but he’d come out for Sean. He had no use for anybody but him. It was like we found the dog version of Sean. We used to say he was like a person, an old soul who preferred his quiet and his people.

He ran away more times than we could ever count but was too scared to get rescued so eventually learned his way home. Showing up at the door like…I don’t know where Dad is but I had a great walk!

He came thisclose to falling off Pikes Peak. Scariest freaking moment ever. Everyone going towards him to try and grab him only pushed him closer to the edge. We had a huge group of people just standing in fear with us. We just pulled the Jeep really close and Sean opened the gate and sat in the back, holding his leash. Malachi came to him. Really terrifying moment.

He would run across the deck and sail over the stairs and land running in the yard- sure that he would catch that bird or squirrel. That never happened. It was magic to watch him fly.

He loved Skosh and loved playing with him. Skosh didn’t always love it back but he loved Malachi. They were like brothers. They would play and fight and whatever room one was in, that’s usually the room the other was. When Skosh was injured, Malachi laid with him and vice versa.

He followed Sean around the house constantly. Where Sean was, Malachi was. He would wait to go to bed until I did but he wasn’t happy about it. You could tell it was more protective than anything. Some days he was so tired I would go to bed just so he would.

He was quiet and found barking really inappropriate. Then we got new neighbors who had non-stop barking dogs and in the last two years of his life he learned the joy of saying hello to your friends. Always the wee hours. As you can imagine, I loved that. That didn’t bother me at all. <sarcasm

He never had accidents in the house and he never chewed anything. It was so gauche! He did, however, love socks. We learned to keep those out of Malachi reach. We watched a friend’s dog once, for about a month, and that dog destroyed nearly all my furniture and daily had accidents in the house. Malachi would just stand there like, “Dude, you’re not supposed to do that”. He never joined the party.

He would run with me, though they were mostly fartleks because that guy stopped every 20 feet to sniff.

He loved the snow..LOVED it. And would run through it- throwing snow up in the air and burying his nose in it. Then he’d dance into the house with snow on his nose.

When Sean would grab his leash, indicating a walk, he would be so excited he would jump up and dance. It was the prettiest thing to see.

Eventually, he couldn’t run anymore. The walks became slower and much more infrequent. It was hard to watch him in that much pain. Matt, our vet, agreed that it was time to let him go.

Saying goodbye to him was wrenching. We look for him as we walk through the house. His dishes and beds are haunting us, waiting for us to get up the nerve to get rid of them. Skosh is very attached to us and is constantly seeking me out. We knew he would miss him but it’s hard that he doesn’t understand.

I’m so grateful we had Malachi in our lives for 14 years. He gave us all so much love and comfort. I’m glad we were able to make the decision that was best for him and not for us. This is a loss.

Love you, Baby. You were such a good boy.

My beloved Jeep has passed. This is a sad time for all involved. Mostly just for me because everyone in my life was amazed it was still alive. I won’t go into details about what’s wrong with it because we don’t have that kind of time. Instead, I’ll tell you why I love it.

The Jeep Liberty is the least loved- the Rodney Dangerfield as it were- of all the vehicles in the Jeep family.

My mechanic was continually telling me in detail why they are the worst cars out there. I don’t believe it though. I think they are discounting the Edsel, the Pinto, and the Gremlin, another car I owned and loved. It may have been ugly, but it always started and always got me where I needed to go. My beloved Jeep has been just as faithful.

We bought it in 2008. In 2009 Alex Michael joined the Marines and promptly came home and put a sticker on the Jeep that says, “Proud parent of a U. S. Marine”. We were proud parents, to be sure, but we don’t do stickers on our cars and he knew that but he announced that this was different and did it anyway. He was right. I love that sticker. Plus it helped me find my car.

We took Alex Michael to the hotel where he left for the Marines in 2010 and we drove a Jeep full of wedding decorations when Shaughnessy married Adam a few months later.

Immediately following the wedding, we filled it to the brim making sure every corner was snug with their belongings and moved Shaughnessy and Adam to Pittsburgh. I’ll admit that one worried me a bit but it hung in there.

In 2011 we moved them back. The same amount of stuff and filled to the brim, including a cat. No one was quite sure where in the Jeep Bosley was but figured he was probably okay. If not somewhat traumatized.

We’ve driven it to MT (the state not the kid) several times and North Dakota once. It was in a fairly terrifying accident and we all escaped unscathed but for a smashed bumper and an adrenaline rush that lasted at least an hour. It felt like days.

MT learned to drive in this Jeep, constantly bugging us to let him drive. Just another reason for me to lie awake at night.

I drove that really damn cute grandson around while dressed in costume and enjoyed his napping and his yoga.

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MT finished school in 2015 and that was the last day we all commuted to work together. With one car it was a juggle to get the three of us to school, work and picked up again. Sometimes there was the lunchtime switch and MT rode his bike quite a bit. There were more days together in the car than not and they were my favorite. After this Sean got his own truck and that was the end of that. I miss it.

There was the time I jumped out of the car because there was a spider in it. It’s okay, I was the passenger and we were going pretty slow. At least I wasn’t driving.

MT graduated high school, college and then joined the Marines, all events we drove to in the Jeep.

There were countless trips to meet Miss Michelle for hiking. North Table Mountain, Mount Sanitas, Bear Peak, and Red Rocks, so many hikes, so little time. She has stopped taking pictures with me and I’m not sure why that is because she is clearly timeless. I look like I’m a circus performer.

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It’s been to the mechanic more times than I care to remember and in the last year I should have bought stock in Penzoil. It was terrible on gas but it did have cupholders. The Jeep is known for its lack of amenities. I never in 11 years didn’t love it. It was familiar and simple, and it was mine.

It made it to 192,500 miles (give or take a few). I really wanted to make it to 200,000 but at some point you have to say “when”.

This week we bought a Toyota Rav 4. This car is smooth and sleek, dark charcoal grey. Has a lot of buttons and rides nice. It has a fancy rear camera the salesman said dryly was “pretty much standard now”. I think he just called me old. I prefer to think of myself as “classic”. It’s not that I don’t want the fancy things, I just prefer my Jeep and the simplicity of it. One can’t discount the better gas mileage, extra safety air bags and bluetooth, though.

We discussed what to do with the Jeep, and the best thing for it was to make sure it went somewhere it was appreciated, so decided to donate it to charity. That way even if it’s scrapped, it’s scrapped for a good cause.

Am I the only one who gets attached to their cars?

A couple of days ago I stopped at the recruitment office and picked up a new “proud parent” sticker.

I wonder what this new car will be witness to.

this post brings a whole new meaning to…

…Run on

I grew up in the “emergency” generation. Family gathered to support each other if there was a personal situation, if they were having surgery, and of course, if someone passed. Home phones were oversized and loud, and if the jangling bells rang in the night, it was most surely not good news.

I recall my mom not answering the phone one night when I called. I lived in Germany at the time, my husband and I were military and we were stationed at Ramstein Air Base. It took far too long for me to get the time change correct in my head and I would often call at unreasonable hours. It was hit and miss if my mom would answer and who could blame her? It didn’t bother me but I liked to harass her about it. I asked her once, “what if someone died?!” and she flippantly replied, “they’ll still be dead in the morning.” She was obviously being facetious but it was

Last week my youngest texted me in the wee hours of the morning- 2:45am. I had a feeling I would hear from him so I made sure my phone was turned up. He doesn’t live here and sometimes it’s the only time he can contact us. It’s not just him randomly trying to converse with me in the middle of the night and we’re not helicoptering our grown children. We’re just making sure to be there if they need us.

I don’t come awake slowly, I wake up startled, already reaching for it. I texted with him for about fifteen minutes and those minutes are the best parts of my day. Hearing from my kids, making sure they’re okay and being there for them is significant.

These days no one has time for relationships outside their immediate circle, and everyone’s goal is to get home at the end of the day to escape “people.” The introvert posts are flying across social media and the thought of answering a phone or listening to a voice mail is just not in their wheelhouse. We have groceries delivered, we order clothes online and food is courtesy of a delivery service. Everyone has their preferences for communication and many people prefer none at all.

There are no perfect parents and Sean and I did the best we could without any instruction manuals. We probably did this right, though. Being there for them taught them trust. Really isn’t that the basis of every relationship? Connections. No matter how it’s done, it holds us together. The more we distance ourselves from our friends and family the less understanding we’ll have for each other. I’m grateful for my beautiful, imperfect family.

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Michelle and I went hiking on Saturday to welcome in Spring and today my hips are reminding me. We climbed MT Sanitas. We’ve done this same climb more times than I can count but it’s the closest thing we can climb that gives us a killer workout. Also, it’s pretty freaking gorgeous so there’s really no downside.

Run on…

I woke up on an average day last August with a small ache in my shoulder. I was sure I slept awkwardly resulting in that nagging pain that itches you all day. I figured I was in for a few days of muscle pain and stretched it throughout the day, but didn’t give it any more thought.

Within a few days it was clear the pain wasn’t getting better, it seemed to be getting worse. I started sleeping in a different position. When that didn’t work I bought a $150 pillow. It was a “side position” pillow and I thought it would encourage me to sleep in a better position. Mostly it reminded me that I spent $150 on a pillow. It’s a good pillow but damn, that’s a lot. I was getting beyond frustrated.

Sean was dealing with a medical issue at the time, and I was in the last month of my job. I had no time to go see a doctor; I had to deal with it until the time showed up. I tried stretching it, icing it, taking Ibuprofen, and yoga. It just steadily got worse. By October, it was clear I had to do something. I was waking up several times a night; the pain was acute and took so much of my attention. I could barely focus on anything. I had determined by now that I had tendonitis in my rotator cuff and that as a Celiac, I’m more prone to it. An added bonus is the tendonitis turning into “frozen shoulder” -A stupid name for something rather terrible. I have had tendonitis in both of my Achilles and my wrist. At this point, I can’t lift my right arm at all and frozen shoulder is a very real possibility. Getting dressed took twice as long. There was no way I could put on a sports bra, and the thought made me nearly cry.

It was time to take care of myself.

I found a physical therapist near me and made an appointment. My first visit went well, I was validated with my pain. She said it was my rotator cuff and it would take several visits to start seeing improvements. I went for two months. It got worse. At one point I was getting deep tissue massages and crying the entire time they worked on it.

My neurologist took pity on me. I went in for Botox shots for my migraines and he asked if I wanted his help. He ordered me an MRI, though he questioned if it would be allowed since he’s a neurologist. They did, though, and he hooked me up with a primary caregiver, also. He is a fabulous human being.

My MRI was horrible. I’ve had one before and this was the worst. I had to hold my arm in the most painful position and I prayed this gave me answers. I made an appointment with the primary I found and she proved to be delightful. She said the MRI showed tendonitis in all the areas of my rotator cuff. It was “significant”. She gave me a cortisone shot in my shoulder and said I should feel much better within the week. Spoiler alert: I did not.

After a few weeks I called her to give her a follow up on it and she prescribed a steroid and referred me to a Ortho specialist. The steroid helped the most of anything so far. She didn’t want me taking Advil anymore.

The ortho doctor was the best. He spent maybe five minutes with me and said we needed to do a “manipulation surgery”. They would put me under general anesthesia and manually force my arm to go all the places it didn’t want to go. Force the stretching. Cringing at the thought, I was grateful to have an option.

I had that surgery three weeks ago, and my arm is 80% better. It still hurts, but I have nearly full use of my arm again. I am doing my own daily PT, and I sleep mostly through the night. The pain in the morning is minimal, and my gratitude cannot be measured.

I started running and strength training again a little over two weeks ago. The last seven months have taken a toll on me. I missed running so much. And I gained ten pounds, a literal “adding insult to injury”.

Michelle and I have plans for the year and we are determined to get them done. Mountain climbing and racing are taking our priorities over everything. We have so much we want to do and sitting back watching time go by is not on the list. We already have our calendar laid out and hopefully the weather holds.

On another note, I haven’t done any real long distance running in at least two years, maybe three. That’s a little sad and alarming. I’m only at 3 miles right now, so if I get to say…5 miles, I’ll have hope. My arm feels weak after months of no lifting or use at all. It’s going to take some time to build that all back up to be the rockstar I was before this happened. < sarcasm.

Some injuries show up and we can track it. I didn’t stretch enough. I pushed it with too many miles. Something was bound to happen. It’s the ones that come when you aren’t looking that really throw you. We can do everything right and still get it from left field. It’s important to remember none of us is immune. When you get thrown you have to work to keep your spirits high and be an advocate for yourself. Take care of you.

Run on…

I came back.

I know I said I was gone, and that was no lie. I really was gone. I just sometimes need a place to say things and this is my place. You are welcome to hang out if you like and if you have other places to be, I understand. We all have things to do, especially this time of year.

I have tendonitis in my rotator cuff. This is far more painful than I would ever have thought, and I’ve had tendonitis in my Achilles and in my wrist. It turns out if you have Celiac you are more prone to tendonitis and I always said I was a rule follower.

I’ve had it for about five months but I didn’t know what it was until it couldn’t be ignored anymore so I’ve only been treating it for a few weeks. I dragged myself to a physical therapist and it took her just a minute or two to diagnose me. It all came together then and I knew I was looking at months of recovery. I started by seeing her twice a week. The pain level is pretty severe and she is working very patiently with me.

Achilles Tendonitis would be a far worse fate as I wouldn’t be able to run; however, it’s still fairly painful due to the footsteps hitting the ground sending waves of pain with the bouncing to my arm. This is no joke here. I already struggle to get out of bed. I will stay in bed far longer than normal and read the news and consider my options for the day just hoping the time I lay there will help. Morning tendonitis pain is so much worse. I take a ridiculous amount of ibuprofen (the prescribed amount but more than I’ve ever taken before).

Today I decided my treadmill running was just not enough (don’t get excited, I’ve only done a few) and it was a beautiful enough day to venture out. It is Colorado, after all. So I did everything I was supposed to do (ate, PT exercises, strength training, etc) and then off I went. This requires a pep talk. I have to pep talk myself out the door.

My arm hurts. My shoulder hurts. My entire right side hurts. Head to ribs.

I started running at the slowest pace I could and figured I’d run walk every ten seconds if I had to. I had my headphones on and I was listening to MmmBop because it makes my heart happy. Don’t judge. I chose a route that takes me on a busy street but I love city running and it’s a good route for me. I crossed the street and there’s a nice downhill….easy running, light quiet feet. The Hanson Brothers lifted my spirits just a bit.

And suddenly the deepest loudest most horrible sound comes from behind me and scares the living s**t out of me and yes I curse. That’s when you know I really was scared.

A truck, what a shock, filled with bumper stickers declaring what an ass he really is, has decided to honk his modified horn and scare the hell out of me.

I kept running for a second while I tried to ignore him and recover and then was swept by such a wave of defeat- pain, frustration, heart racing, frustration, everything hit me at once and  I stopped and burst into tears. I turned around, faced a horrible headwind and walked home crying.

When I got home I realized my iPod had been stuck on the same song the entire time. It’s been doing this for months and I didn’t know why. I asked Sean about this several months ago and he said there was probably a setting in iTunes.  Frustrated and crying, I head to the computer to figure this out.  I’m desperate and sad and at my wits end. He picks up my iPod and pushes a button and it’s fixed.

I would like to say I love him but I’m so irritated it was that easy and it could have been fixed months ago that I have decided I’m leaving him. You KNOW he absentmindedly said, “oh it’s probably some setting in iTunes” as he headed off to his office to live there and didn’t give it another thought until he saw a distraught woman in his kitchen.

In case you’re thinking I’m very capable, I am. I should have. I just HATE iTunes. And it hates me right back. I mean, our relationship is not friendly.

So I just listen to podcasts and never listen to music on my iPod. It’s just easier. yes, I totally own part of this, no problem. But come ON.

This was a very rough morning and as I am generally a little more cheerful/optimist/people are good isn’t life wonderful- it’s been a difficult few months and doesn’t look like it’s going to get easier any time soon.

I checked my email though, and I had this message from a friend  that had this wonderful commercial (it’s from 2011 I think but still relevant) and also, my blog is snowing. I love it when it snows.

https://youtu.be/auSo1MyWf8g?t=3

So there you go.

Happy Holiday season to you.

-Teresa

 

 

I just don’t want to do this anymore.

it’s been fun though. I’d rather be running.

And so many other things, right?

Run on…