Mental wars and bumper-tread-mills ...

I am not sure if it is in stubbornness, stupidity, or brilliance that I continue to fight through tears of frustration, pain, and doubt as I try and force by body to run. The past couple weeks in my training world have been challenging and exhilarating. The ups and downs arriving at a furry faster than a roller coaster ... more like the speed of the bouncing balloon my grandpa used to always get us. You know large wonderfully colored balloons with an elastic attached to the mouth that you project away from your precious little face with a punch and a smack (inevitably ... and never purposely at your brothers face). The ones that can gather such speed as to almost knock you off of your little fat kid feet.

I do remember coming to this point last year. Questioning why doing this triathlon is so very integral to proving to myself that I am okay. That I truly have been able to heal, physically, emotionally, and spiritually to a point of strength that I can lean on.

I guess it would not be true strength if it came with ease. It would not be resilience if there was no adversity.

And, in all fairness it has taught me a great deal of humility and provided me with some good self deprecating story material. Of which this is the latest ...

Because of the swelling of my tumor during radiation my foot-drop worsened. Basically it is like the elastic that pulls my foot up got cut. As you can imagine this has caused difficulties in the running arena. Many falls, acupuncture needles, electro-stimulation's, and painful exercises later I resigned to the fact that I was going to have to look in to ankle-foot-orthotics.

This was a defeating resignation as I so vividly remember my first a.f.o. from when the initial nerve damage was done when I was ten. It was awfully huge and hard and cumbersome .... and did I mention awful. AND it limited what shoes I could wear. AND shoes had to be purchased in two sizes so it also limited the number of shoes I could have ... not a happy kid! I remember walking by the workshop at the children's where they made these monstrosities on my way to physio each week. Little casted limps and plastic and metal braces resting on the windowsill. I was intrigued by them ... but that was before they became part of my anatomy. At the same time that I got my a.f.o. I also received my first full-bodice clam-shell body brace. At the cost of a family holiday, I had to strap myself into the intentionally skin colored, but more realistically orange shell that held my body straight as a board all day while my spine found its strength. I hated, hated that brace. It was so hot and it had little boobs, and hips which horrified me at 10.

I had to wear different clothes that the other kids ... and like its sibling the a.f.o., it felt like wearing a sign that said I am not normal. I eventually learned to have fun with it ... like making boys I did not like punch me, nearly breaking their little tough boy knuckles. But all in all I hated it ... and would have to suffer through another one in high-school.

So as you can imagine it was with great fear that I walked into the orthoticists office a couple weeks ago to "just go and see how far they have come Heather". And to my utter sweet delight, and anger for not pursuing this many falls and trips ago, I met my new best friend ... the athlete's a.f.o. This baby sticks under my shoe laces and is attached by a strong elastic to a cuff velcroed around my ankle. And I have been free of falling stories since. However, as with all transitions, there have been a couple bumps. I have kind of had to learn to run again. My running to the naked eye is not beautiful or perfect in its form by any stretch of the imagination. But to me ... it is one of the most beautiful movements I make ... because it is me, running. And really I don't think that smooth or perfect will ever really be descriptors of me, and I am okay with that. I am okay with labored, frazzled, spaced, and clumsy.

Needless to say learning to run again with a foot that lifts a little more has affected my directional capacities. Meaning that I appear to have taken a liking to either playing bumper hips with the tread-mill bars, or to drinking before I run! What ever it looks like to the naked observer, what it looks like to me is very bruised hips.

And so the journey and the struggle continue. I hope to get better with more practice, and am thankful for my new little a.f.o.. I am starting to feel a little fear about actually doing the races, but am feeling strong and ready more days than weak and crazy.

On a side note. Thank you to everyone who offered their support and kind words for Noah. I saw him this week as he has returned to Calgary and he was resting all snug in a fuzzy hug. There is still a long road ahead of him and seems to be more hard days than good for Mel and Christian, but he continues to light up the lives of those his spirit touches.

The grab-apple trees in my mom's backyard are heavy with cloud-like white flowers ... and I caught my first kiss from a lilac bush yesterday. I am back on the water, soaking up its freshness and escape, dragon boating for the Children's Wish Foundation ... paddling (It is hard to believe that it has been a year since I started radiation). Oh ... and my little man Jamison said "up, up" yesterday ... made my heart twinkle.

I hope your week has been filled with things that are making your heart feel blessed and kissed!