I’ve been through a lot in my life, but it’s funny the things that I will complain about.  I’ve had IVs put in my arm and have felt as though my stomach had a hole inside it after having an inch long incision cut into the middle of my stomach.  I will wince and grunt through it, but give me a dull, constant sore shoulder or the smallest paper cut and I will complain about it until day’s end.

Surviving a brain aneurysm gives you a skewed perspective on the world.  It may be that I’m convinced that I have lived through the worst, so death or any elevated type pain does not scare me.  Maybe it is that I know that the dull aches, soreness and little cuts are inevitable and just hate them that much more.  It’s almost as though I can block out pain at a certain level.  After all, I do live with a streaming numbness across the right side of my body, which I don’t even acknowledge anymore.

Yet the tiniest cuts seem to cause the worst type of pain.  It may be the location of the cuts because we always use our hands and our fingers, or it may be that I can’t help but pick at scabs because of how annoying they are.  At least stitches gross me out and I won’t touch them or go anywhere near the location.  It’s probably that I know that the little pains will go away so I constantly think about them, waiting for them to disappear.  Is it gone yet?  How about now? …is it really still there?  Ugh…

Not that anyone should deal with pain on any level, but oddly enough I deal with large scale pain better than any other type.  Luckily I have avoided injury of any kind for a good while, and I would prefer never to be in the hospital again…but if for some reason I do wind up in the hospital again, I will wince and grind my teeth in pain, but I won’t complain near anywhere the way I would if I get a papercut sometime this afternoon.  Maybe this is why I still can’t tolerate a very high level of spice in my foods…

I survived a ruptured brain aneurysm and stroke when I was three years old.  Nobody expected me to survive, let alone walk again.  I did not run the pace I hoped to run at Boston.  I was on pace to run a 3:30 marathon despite permanent stroke damage.  I squeezed the right side of the course the entire way.  I don’t have peripheral vision in my right eye.  An overzealous runner cut me off at mile 22.  Both legs constricted and, for the first time in my running career, I walked.

This run was not for me; never was.  I ran to serve as a precedent for every brain surgery survivor, reminding them that their potential hasn’t disappeared with their disability.  I ran to reveal their potential.  I showed them that their potential is still there.  And I didn’t just run the Boston marathon, I finished the Boston marathon.  After the fact, I found out I won the mobility-impaired division.

In the end, the only two things people will remember: how I finished and where I placed.  What I remember is what I helped others regain.  I was the one crossing the finish line, but I did so carrying the support from each and every survivor on my shoulders.  Their spirits carried me across that finish line.  I finished first, but I was simply leading the charge for everyone else.  I lost my PR, but still won my division at Kenyan speed—an affirmation that I hopefully instilled in others.

5:30 AM is a beautiful time to go to the gym.  Only motivated people get up to go workout before going to work and everyone has a set routine to get their workout done…or so you would think.

I consider myself to be considerably fit.  I see this guy Joe at the gym who is also in great shape.  We have our set routines each day we are there and we go about our business and get it done.  It’s not necessarily that the gym is a job for us, but we know the importance of a solid workout…and solid workouts are hard.  We just want to push through them and get out in the most efficient time possible.

Today come down these two ladies, each whom could easily spare to lose 40 pounds each at least.  They sit on the cybex machines, one on top of the ab crunch machine and the other at the chest press and each do a set.  They finish their set relatively quickly and without much exhaustion to my eye…and then comes the true workout: the talking.

The key to building your body stronger and getting a solid workout is keeping your body in motion.  The very little they may have engaged that with their first set was completely negated for the 5 minutes or so they spent gabbing.  On top of that, talking as you are lifting or doing sets of any kind is not helpful to the outcome you’re trying to attain from your workout.  Someone once told me you shouldn’t be able to get full sentences out while you are lifting.  With these ladies, the paragraphs just kept on coming…

Now I’m not trying to pick on these women, but rather draw a very obvious comparison to workout methods and results attained.  By not letting your body cool down, you get better results from your workout and make yourself more fit.  Talking away after each set or, even worse, during each set, you are letting your body lose momentum and the physical results are just as obvious as in the former situation described.  It’s your choice: talk now and complain about the results later OR complain about how hard the workout is NOW and talk later.

Your choice.  Make it happen.

Now I remember why I limited my bike rides to only once a week...

Maybe I'll just take off a month and eat, eat, eat to give my butt some padding so that biking doesn't hurt anymore.

Yeah...I think we all know the answer to that one.

My right glove slipped out of my bag yesterday and fell on the porch...in the rain.  i got through my workout yesterday fine since it was my full body workout and my right hand doesn't get callus-ed too much, but today was my right side workout and my glove was still soaked.

I decided to ride the bike for a half hour instead.  Went downstairs and did a couple things and then decided to ride the bike for the first time in about a year...and did it ever feel good.  I was feeling a little sore in the beginning, but then I got into pacing myself minute by minute.  Before I knew it a large portion of the ride was through.

My legs felt sore at the end, and the shower hadn't felt that good in a long time.  Maybe I'll have to start working biking back into my routine every so often again...you know, to give myself a break :-P