I’ve been a runner for most of my life, since age 11 to be exact. However, we didn’t always get along so well, running and I. It began as more of a love-hate relationship to be perfectly honest.
In junior high, in P.E. class of all places, I discovered a hidden talent – my ability to run the mile. Now, for those of you who have erased these painful images from your memory, let me give you a quick refresher. The mile was one of the most dreaded days in all of P.E. class. Four laps around the track felt like f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Thus, any and all excuses to avoid being exposed to such evil pain and torture were exhausted. There were definitely some Oscar worthy performances, my favorite including one of my classmates who made her own splint out of cardboard and masking tape to go along with her ‘broken wrist’ story. Still to this day, I give her props for creativity.
In all fairness, I never wanted to run the mile either. I tried coming up with a creative excuse to get out of this dreadfully uncomfortable task every semester. Yet, to no avail, I always chickened out at the last minute. So, my backup plan you ask? Lace up my shoes and regretfully approach the starting line. Then run the mile as fast as possible so I could just be done with this vile task as fast as possible! Foolproof right? Or so I thought…
The first two laps were usually pretty friendly. However, the second half of the race was when the real test would begin. That painfully winded feeling with the burning taste of blood in the back my throat would start to creep up around lap three and keep increasing exponentially as I approached the final bend of the track. As I sailed across the finish line, a wave of relief would wash over me, or was it actually sinking in?
Towards the end of eighth grade, I had come to terms with the dreaded mile, and had actually grown to enjoy it (shhhh…don’t tell anyone). After the numerous trials I had completed in my young running career, I had learned to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. I pushed myself outside my comfort zone. I faced something I feared with a fiery passion, and made it my mission to conquer it (even if it was only subconsciously in the beginning). I realized there was nothing wrong with being afraid or scared, it was all about how you internalized those feelings, and in turn chose to respond. Ironically, I chose to join the cross-country team freshman year, and have been a proud runner ever since.
This idea of learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable is something that has stuck with me all these years, and has helped motivate me when faced with life’s challenges. I’ve never run 31.07 miles before, all at one time, on a trail, in Berkeley, CA. Sure I’ve had my moments where I wonder if my legs will be able to carry me for that long, if the hills will be too steep, or if I’ve gotten myself in way over my head to be perfectly honest. And just as quickly as those fears surface in my mind, so does the friendly reminder of learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. I know the Grizzly Peak Trail will put up a good fight on April 7th, but so will Marissa and I as we embark on our adventure together. I know there will be moments along the course where I feel uncomfortable, and I’m ready to accept the challenge of being comfortable with that ☺
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
From Kati: Other Voices - AZ Goes to Wal-Mart
A few months ago, I discovered a collection of insights and testimonies from people who are affected by lymphedema. Though I have met very few people with lymphedema in person, these stories have been a great source of companionship and wisdom.
Many of the book's contributors have lived with lymphedema for decades. Some live in areas of the world where their condition was so little understood as to go untreated or improperly treated for most of their lives. Authors talk candidly about the challenges of travel, exercise, garments, and insurance reimbursement. Some of them are still obviously angry, and others have come to accept their condition as a molehill next to the mountain of blessings in their lives.
Not everyone's lymphedema is a molehill in need of a little shift in perspective. AZ's story, below, reminds me that lymphedema is a serious, disabling medical condition when left untreated. Thank you for your support in bringing hope to people with lymphedema everywhere!
AZ Goes to Wal-Mart
I have been a therapist about seven years now and patients are always inspring me. One who is especially significant to me is AZ.
When I first met him, AZ was 57 and had been bedridden for about 30 years. Both legs and feet were huge. It was estimated that his right leg alone weighed between 300 and 400 pounds. The swelling was from the knee down. In all other areas, he was a normal size with some abdominal swelling. When he would try to stand, the weight would pull down so hard that blood vessels would break and he would be in severe pain for days.
It was impossible to reach around the leg to apply the bandages so it took two therapists, working as a team, to treat and bandage his leg. The first thing we did was to massage him and then wrap the legs. I then pulled the weight up with bandages and attached this to the thighs being careful not to restrict the fluid. This allowed him to stand without having the weight break the blood vessels behind the knee.
I then asked him to get out of bed each day and touch the wall. With treatment and movement the fluid began to reduce and finally we could apply the bandages with only one person. His fluid seemed to stabilize so we began to use the Komprex Binde (padding) stretched tightly under the bandage. Again the fluid reduced. When it stabilized, I decided to use Komprex foam chips. His legs were so fibrotic that the chips barely dented them. I thought I would make bigger chips so I would roll Komprex Binde into rolls about 1 to 2 inch diameter and place these under the Komprex Binde that was rolled on. The tissue would soften and then reduce.
He was now walking more. He went to the kitchen and back, then around the house, then to the street and then to the end of the block. After a year he and his wife were walking on the beach most afternoons. He reported they would usually walk between one half to one mile. He was now small enough that his wife could bandage him.
In the beginning it took 75 bandages to cover one of AZ's legs from the foot to the knee [I use 6 from foot to thigh, for comparison's sake]. His wife would wash and have these rolled for every visit. He never complained and did everything he was asked to do without complaint. My biggest problem was slowing him down so he would not overtire the leg.
On his first day of treatment, I asked him what he wanted to accomplish and he said he would like to see what was inside a Wal-Mart since he had never been to a big store like that. Now, I hate going to Wal-Mart and always used to complain about standing in line for such a long time to check out. AZ achieved his goal. He went to Wal-Mart and had a ball -- and I've stopped complaining about shopping or standing in line.
Thanks to AZ, many people around here have a whole new look at a lot of things.
Submitted by James Morrow, AZ's therapist
Many of the book's contributors have lived with lymphedema for decades. Some live in areas of the world where their condition was so little understood as to go untreated or improperly treated for most of their lives. Authors talk candidly about the challenges of travel, exercise, garments, and insurance reimbursement. Some of them are still obviously angry, and others have come to accept their condition as a molehill next to the mountain of blessings in their lives.
Not everyone's lymphedema is a molehill in need of a little shift in perspective. AZ's story, below, reminds me that lymphedema is a serious, disabling medical condition when left untreated. Thank you for your support in bringing hope to people with lymphedema everywhere!
AZ Goes to Wal-Mart
I have been a therapist about seven years now and patients are always inspring me. One who is especially significant to me is AZ.
When I first met him, AZ was 57 and had been bedridden for about 30 years. Both legs and feet were huge. It was estimated that his right leg alone weighed between 300 and 400 pounds. The swelling was from the knee down. In all other areas, he was a normal size with some abdominal swelling. When he would try to stand, the weight would pull down so hard that blood vessels would break and he would be in severe pain for days.
It was impossible to reach around the leg to apply the bandages so it took two therapists, working as a team, to treat and bandage his leg. The first thing we did was to massage him and then wrap the legs. I then pulled the weight up with bandages and attached this to the thighs being careful not to restrict the fluid. This allowed him to stand without having the weight break the blood vessels behind the knee.
I then asked him to get out of bed each day and touch the wall. With treatment and movement the fluid began to reduce and finally we could apply the bandages with only one person. His fluid seemed to stabilize so we began to use the Komprex Binde (padding) stretched tightly under the bandage. Again the fluid reduced. When it stabilized, I decided to use Komprex foam chips. His legs were so fibrotic that the chips barely dented them. I thought I would make bigger chips so I would roll Komprex Binde into rolls about 1 to 2 inch diameter and place these under the Komprex Binde that was rolled on. The tissue would soften and then reduce.
He was now walking more. He went to the kitchen and back, then around the house, then to the street and then to the end of the block. After a year he and his wife were walking on the beach most afternoons. He reported they would usually walk between one half to one mile. He was now small enough that his wife could bandage him.
In the beginning it took 75 bandages to cover one of AZ's legs from the foot to the knee [I use 6 from foot to thigh, for comparison's sake]. His wife would wash and have these rolled for every visit. He never complained and did everything he was asked to do without complaint. My biggest problem was slowing him down so he would not overtire the leg.
On his first day of treatment, I asked him what he wanted to accomplish and he said he would like to see what was inside a Wal-Mart since he had never been to a big store like that. Now, I hate going to Wal-Mart and always used to complain about standing in line for such a long time to check out. AZ achieved his goal. He went to Wal-Mart and had a ball -- and I've stopped complaining about shopping or standing in line.
Thanks to AZ, many people around here have a whole new look at a lot of things.
Submitted by James Morrow, AZ's therapist
Monday, March 18, 2013
And the winner is...
In the past week, like in the weeks preceding, many generous individuals donated to support lymphedema research! This morning, after the contest closed at midnight on St. Patty's Day, Anne and Dan Vastola randomly drew a name from the pot...
And the winner of the Lymphedema Run + Hike t-shirt contest is... Julie!
Julie is a Bay Area physical therapist who specializes in lymphedema therapy, among other treatments.
Thank you, Julie and everybody, for your support!
 |
| Julie! |
 |
| And the... |
 |
| winner is... |
Lymphedema Run + Hike T-Shirts
If you'd like to order a t-shirt to wear your support of lymphedema research, please visit our site here!
Thursday, March 14, 2013
From Marissa: Sprinting
I don’t like sprinting very much, and I’ve also never been
very good at it.
It makes me think of the taste of blood, wheezing and
losing—none of which I like all that much.
Perhaps that’s why I tend to prefer longer running
events. I get to set my own
(slower) pace. It’s about
endurance and not rapid bursts.
And, if I can simply keep going, I’ll eventually make it to the finish.
This fundraiser, though, is teaching me to love both the
sprint and the long-distance journey, metaphorically. Together, we are going the distance and raising a large sum
of money for the Lymphatic Research Foundation. At the same time, we are full-on, full-throttle,
heart-thumping, breath-gaspingly sprinting toward our financial goal of
$10,000.
In this instance—the instance of fundraising for lymphatic
research—everyone who has supported this cause, who has given generously and
deeply, who has reached out lovingly and perhaps unexpectedly, has shown me
that sprinting is actually completely awesome.
I have no doubt, we will sprint right through and past our
goal. Let’s appreciate that
milestone, and then let’s keep going.
If you would like to support, it is never too late and
nothing is too little.
Our Donations page: http://lymphatic.donorpages.com/LRFFriendsandEvents/lymphedemarun/
Our Donations page: http://lymphatic.donorpages.com/LRFFriendsandEvents/lymphedemarun/
"Runner" by Nathan Oliveira.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Lymphedema Run + Hike T-Shirts!
Donate ANY amount between now and midnight PST on St. Patty's Day (Sunday, 3/17), for a chance to win a green Patagonia Lymphedema Run + Hike t-shirt!
Make a donation to support lymphatic research here...
You'll be giving to a good cause and getting a chance to win!
We are fundraising for the Lymphatic Research Foundation.
We are fundraising for the Lymphatic Research Foundation.
May the luck of the Irish be with you!
***
These Patagonia short-sleeve tees are made of a lightweight athletic material, with 15-UPF sun protection. Here's part of their awesome design, by Kati's dear friend, artist Marlee Bruning.
Or, To Place An Order:
Cost: $25 Donation
Sizes: Women's S, M & L
Men's M, L & XL
Delivery: Pick up at the hike or pay $3 for shipping
Place Your Order: By emailing Marissa.
Payment: Via Paypal to mari.eiseng@gmail.com; OR mail a check payable to Marissa Eisengart; email for address.
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