Misery

If I was good at doing things on the computer, I could make a little chart showing how I was feeling during our 20-mile training run today.  Since I can't, imagine a line that stays level for a long time (2 hours), then goes down a little, a little more, a little more, stops for a while to dry heave a little, and then finishes down around the bottom.  During the first half, accompanied by our awesome neighbor Andy (running much below his normal pace in order to keep us company), I felt pretty good.  In fact, I felt pretty cool - like a real athlete.  After a mid-point water break, however, things started feeling not so good.  Things like my hip joints, butt, legs and stomach.  At the 15 mile point, nausea set in and stayed with me for the long haul. As it turns out, it's really uncomfortable to run while nauseated.
Anyway, we did finish, and if we walked a little, well, I am still counting it.  We moved our bodies over a 20 mile path.  We never hailed down a passing car for a lift, we never banged on the front door of the houses we were passing to beg for help, and I only gave in to defeating negativism half a dozen times.  So overall, a major success.
One funny thing about living in a town the size of Winston-Salem is how many people will tell you that they were driving and saw you running.  And several times people have told me that they saw me running at one point and I looked pretty good, but when they were on their way home from the movies or whatever a few hours later and saw me again, I didn't look so good.  Someone Matt works with told him that he looked terrible running.  And today during the course of the four hours I was running, I definitely saw several cars more than one time.  And the drivers did not look so good the second time I saw them.
Happily, today was our last big run before the marathon.  Over the next few weeks, we'll taper down.  The idea behind the taper is that your body is so primed for running, that when you deprive it of that it will just want more of it, so when it comes time for the marathon, you just burst out of the gate.  I'm not so sure about that, but I certainly won't mind the part where I don't make myself do something to the point of vomiting for a few weeks.
Cheers!
Claire

p.s.  While we've been training, we've also had some other exciting developments here at the Calvin-Giegengack home.  Being the consummate blogger that I am, I've got a second blog going to keep friends and family up to date on our pending adoption.  Check it out at the link on the right - "and then there were five ...."

Matt goes the distance

Aubrey has gone turkey hunting once in his life and killed 1 turkey.  He likes to say he shot 2 turkeys that day, his first and his last.  Claire and I ran our 20 mile training run.  With that horrible thing accomplished I feel that I will run 2 marathons in Houston on January 17th.

Matt

Jingle Bells

Merry Christmas friends!  We have been busy getting ready for Christmas, having family in town, and pounding the pavement.  Our furthest run to date has been 17 miles - miserable - but we're looking forward to a 20 mile run this coming weekend.  So, while you're relaxing in your pjs and playing with your Christmas presents, think of us out there running, and running, and running ...
I hope the season is wonderful for you and your family, and I'll let you know how it goes!
Claire

Mistletoe Magic

So, the weather is turning cold, sometimes rainy, and there are so many days now where the absolute last thing I want to do is go for a run.  In fact, I was in a bit of a funk about this whole marathon thing.  But then, in spite of a persistent leg injury (ITB Syndrome - not IBS, he wants me to mention), Matt insisted that we sign up for the Mistletoe Half-Marathon here in Winston-Salem this past weekend.  I was totally unenthusiastic, especially as they were predicting freezing rain and possibly snow for Saturday morning.  But Matt insisted, and he isn't usually a person who insists, so I figured I'd better humor him and at least sign us up.

And then Saturday morning came around, and it was cold, and rainy, and we were really tired, and Matt's leg was still hurting, and ... we got up and did it anyway.  We had a bit of a lackluster start in that I was still in the bathroom of the YMCA when the starting gun was fired, so we had to hot-foot it down to the start line, but after that the whole thing was really fun.  As small as Winston-Salem is, it is amazing that over 900 people would come out to run 13 miles on a freezing December morning.  It's inspiring to see the mix of people - teenage cross-country kids who run 5 minute miles the whole way, 70+ year olds (several of whom finished long before we did), groups of friends, co-workers, and people big and small.  Whenever I run with a big group of people like that, I catch these waves of emotion and get choked up thinking about the collective spirit of all these folks.  Normally that's pretty embarrassing, but with the rain coming down so hard, I was totally low-profile.  Plus, running through familiar neighborhoods you see friends standing in their front yards with bathrobes on and kids banging on metal bowls to cheer everyone on, so I was smiling and waving half the time.      

So we both ran the whole thing and even felt pretty good afterwards.  And then we pretty much spent the whole rest of the weekend on the couch napping (me) and icing achy joints (Matt).  But I feel like we have our marathon mojo back and are getting excited for the actual race.  Thanks so much for for all the kind words of encouragement - we need it!

Ted's 2 Cents:

My brother Ted lives in Houston with his wife Robyn and their son Jack.  Ted and my dad have a very close relationship and enjoy many of the same pursuits - fishing, camping, scuba diving gardening, cooking, reading, and photography.  They were very active together in the Boy Scouts for many years, taking trips all over the country and the world with their scout troop.  Ted became an Eagle Scout many years ago, and I know that made my dad very proud.  The two of them spend lots of time together these days tinkering with things, cooking and working in the community garden.  

These are some of Ted's thoughts:  

"Many of you who know Aubrey know that he has been a photography enthusiast for… well, forever. I owe my love of photography in some measure to Aubrey’s influence. He helped me buy my first camera, took us on a photographic safari in Africa, and shared all of his photography experience with me as I was learning. 

Like many amateur photographers (Aubrey probably considers himself a pro, and may take umbrage at this reference), Aubrey has documented all of our trips with pictures and has gone on a few trips just for the sake of the pictures. The camera bag has always gone everywhere. Because Aubrey sometimes paid as much attention to it as he did to the rest of us, we dubbed it “the baby.”  In jest, of course.

Now, Dad has some trouble lugging the camera everywhere he might want to go. The difficulty he has carrying things while walking (which makes him 20 times more likely to fall down) means the camera bag goes fewer places. His unsteadiness makes it harder to focus and frame a picture. The result is a decrease in the number of pictures he takes, although I have to give him credit for making as strong an effort as ever.

While taking pictures is harder for Aubrey now than it was ten years ago, he has taken an interest in printing and displaying some of his favorites from over the years. He has probably printed over a hundred pictures in large format and had them custom framed by his favorite frame shop in the heights. Every member of our immediate family has a few Aubrey originals decorating our walls, and there are plenty more with no wall space to call their own.

For your enjoyment, here are a few of my favorites among the collection."

A note from my mom:

While Parkinson's has obviously had a tremendous effect on my dad's life, it has also impacted all of our lives individually and life as a family.  The things that most people would do without thinking twice -- walking around at the mall, dialing on a cell phone, flying a kite with a grandchild, taking an airplane trip -- are things that people with advanced Parkinson's either do with great difficulty or don't do at all.  

My mom has been the person there for my dad, making it possible for him to continue to do all of the many things he loves to do.  When I asked her to write a few paragraphs for this project, she got back to me a few days later and said that she was working on something with a positive spin.  I'm sure most people - Michael J. Fox excepted - would have a hard time putting a positive spin on Parkinson's Disease, but I admire my mom's spirit.  And, I agree with her that HAPS has been an incredible support network for my dad and for so many others struggling to stay physically active and independent.

Here are my mom's thoughts, in her words:

"The first clue I had that Aubrey had a problem, in 1982, was that he carried one arm rigidly at his side, instead of swinging it when he walked. “Don’t carry your arm like that, try to look normal,” I said.  When he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease later that year, at the age of 42, he was told he would probably be able to work only another five years, and live another ten.  Now, twenty-seven years, two brain surgeries, and several improvements of medication later, he has thankfully outlived that prediction.

I credit Aubrey’s doctors at Baylor College of Medicine and the VA in Houston, the Houston Area Parkinson’s Society, and Aubrey’s spirit of never wanting to give up for his success in holding back the effects of this debilitating  disease.  After several years of not being bothered much by his symptoms, Aubrey entered into the many programs HAPS offers free of charge around town.  He currently takes water therapy, land exercises, speech therapy, and Tai Chi.  The exercise not only keeps him moving, but the support of the instructors and other people in the classes has been extremely beneficial.  HAPS provides transportation to the classes for anyone who needs it."*

*One of the major issues that we have struggled with as a family is driving.  Many Parkinsonians are excellent drivers (my dad believes he is the best driver in the family, and he may be right), but we no longer feel it is safe for him to drive.  We worry that he will fall somewhere while he is alone, or be attacked by someone who perceives that he is an easy mark, or any number of other scenarios that are of concern.  He does not think that any of these are good enough reasons for him to quit driving, and we've had more than a few go-rounds with him over it.

Giving up driving has been very hard on my dad, as he rightly feels that he has lost much of his independence.  It has also been hard on my mother, who spends a large part of every day behind the wheel of her car - driving to her office, driving home to take my dad somewhere, driving back to the office, back to pick up my dad, back to the house, and so on, and so on.  Any of you familiar with Houston know that this is no easy task, as traffic conditions around Houston vary from terrible to absolutely make you want to tear your hair out.  Hopefully, one of these days we can convince my dad to avail himself of HAPS' wonderful transportation service, but until then, we are glad that it's there for those who do need it.  

Matt weighs in ...

I don't like to run.  I am not very good at it.  About 6 months ago Claire talked me into running the Nashville half marathon.  It was very uncomfortable.  At one point I was passed by a gentleman who was running backwards while juggling.  The juggler was followed closely by a man in a bear costume.  I was a little disgusted with my performance and it planted the seed to run the Houston marathon (we tried to sign up for the half but it was full).

During medical school we often referred to a patient's battle with certain diseases as a marathon.  With Parkinson's I think this analogy is very fitting.  In my training thus far the most I have run is 13 miles.  The idea of running twice that fills me with a little despair.  The next 13 will be that much harder.  As I have watched Aubrey battle with Parkinson's over the years I know that he knows that there are harder challenges to come.  The relatively little bit of will power that it will take Claire and I to quiet the despair and plow through this race,  I think is probably similar to the will power that Aubrey has to employ each day to do things that he wants and needs to do.

I hope that running this race and Claire making this blog helps to raise awareness of what is, in my opinion, one of the most difficult diseases out there.

I hope that I run faster than the guy in the bear suit.

Halfway there ... sort of

We ran 13 miles this weekend, and it really hurt.  It was a perfect day for running -- sunny, cool, no humidity.  Our friend Paige ran about 5 miles with us, and then we did the rest of it on our own in about 2 hours and 15 minutes.  There was definitely a little walking in there towards the end, but overall I'm proud of us.  I have read on the Houston Marathon website that if you are not on pace to finish the marathon in 6 hours by the half-way point, they divert you to the half-marathon course.  I can't decide whether that would be terribly embarrassing or really good luck.  Probably both, but I'm hoping it won't befall us.  Plus, the idea of running for 6 hours is really awful.  Next time you are doing something like watching a movie or driving a long way, imagine that you were just running the whole time.  Plus a few hours.  So, we're hoping to finish in 4:30 - 5 hours, but we'll see.

After we finished, we had to rush home, shower and get ready to go over to a friend's house for dinner with the kids, and both of us were sort of out of it for a while once we sat down on their couch and everything caught up with us.  At one point, I was positive that I was going to throw up all over the coffee table.  This was my body's way of saying, "I really did not like that."  My response to that subtle message was to eat a huge, delicious dinner, and I think my body was slightly mollified by that, but it's definitely still holding a bit of a grudge.

So we'll keep at it this week and then have a "rebuilding" weekend next weekend where we only run 8 or 10 miles.  But I can see a 20 mile run in the near future, and it's been stalking me in my dreams.

A note from my dad:

As I mentioned in my first post, my dad has been living with Parkinson's since he was 40, and now, at almost 70, he is remarkable strong and functional considering the length of time he's been dealing with it.  Parkinson's is a degenerative disease, so each day and each passing year bring about new difficulties and take away a little more independence from the sufferer.  For the last 30 years, I can attest that my father has fought tooth and nail for every inch of ground he's given up to Parkinson's.  He is nothing if not stubborn, and that has served him well in this situation, even though it sometimes makes him a pain in the butt for the rest of us!

When I started this fundraising blog, I asked my family member each to write something about their experience living with Parkinson's, so that for those of you who happily are not afflicted or aren't closely related to someone who is, you can get a picture of the life of a Parkinsonian.  My father sent me an email in response which I'll share in part here:

12 Weeks and Counting!

Today marks 12 weeks to go until the big race!  We are a little behind in our training program since we had to take a few weeks off for various reasons, but today we are heading back out for our first long run in a while.  It is raining, cold, the day after Halloween, and we are both wishing we could just lay on the couch and watch a movie (me) or Eagles football (Matt), but when the babysitter gets here at 4, we're doing it.  Ten miles today, then 14 next weekend - yikes!  At least I can put Halloween candy in my pocket for a little pick-me-up along the route.
Thanks for your support!
Claire

Run for Parkinson's

As many of you know, my dad has been living with Parkinson's Disease for the last 30 years.  Parkinson's Disease is a neurological condition caused by a loss of the neurotransmitter dopamine, necessary for muscle control and characterized by movement difficulties such as tremor, posture and balance problems, and muscle rigidity that become more debilitating over time.  He will be 70 in May, and he continues to live a remarkably full life for anyone his age, much less someone who has been battling Parkinson's Disease for 30 years.  


As a family, we consider ourselves blessed in so many ways, but having lived through this and having experienced the awful effects the disease has had - not only on my dad, but on our whole family, we really hope that a cure can be found so that other families and individuals do not have to go through this.  


And so ... Matt and I are running the Houston Chevron Marathon on January 17th to raise money for HAPS - the Houston Area Parkinson's Society (website link to the right/top).  


We began a six-month training program this summer, and are getting in shape for the run.  Matt is looking to take the men's top honors, and I'm sure I'll be right behind him!  Of course, I'm only joking.  We will be excited to finish the race as neither one of us has run a marathon before.  I will use this blog to update you on our running progress and on our fundraising efforts.  I will also write a little about living with Parkinson's Disease.  


Please visit the link to the right/top of the page "Donate to support our run!" if you'd like to make a contribution.


Thanks, and keep checking back as race day catches up with us!


Claire