Climb for Hospice

I’ve started running again.

Yes, it hurts my hips the next day, but it’s worth it.  Besides, I know my hips are going to hurt on my Kili climb, so I’d better just get used to it now.

Training for pain.

Well, that’s new.

I’ll be taking it easier on myself this time around, and won’t be doing my 10km 4x/week. That’s too much right now. Maybe I can work up to that again, but for now I just need to work on my cardio and my stamina, and the best way to do that is to run. Because I know I’ll run.

I have a bike that I rarely use, a swim pass that collects dust, and a bamillion work-out DVDs that pretty much still have the plastic covering on. But I’ll run.

I’m going to be stubbornly defiant about this, and I’m sure I’ll pay for it, but I’m just in this rut of non-exercise. I don’t care right now. I don’t want to train. I’ve given up, and I’m trying to justify my slovenly self in any way I can: “I need to have extra weight on! I’m going to need it for the cold… for energy… for the inevitable weight loss that will occur on the climb…”  I’m getting quite creative.

But I’m also getting scared. What if I don’t make it because I wasn’t physically ready? I would never forgive myself.

So… I’ll run.

I’ll try to keep my griping and complaining to a minimum.

Today I tackle… The Fred Gingell Park stairs…

Wish me luck. Buy me Tiger Balm.

I went to see my doctor yesterday to chat about some things, namely, you know… climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, and the pain in my hips.

Now, my doctor is not your run-of-the-mill MD. He is the wackiest, goofiest doctor in the world, with the most bizarre sense of humor. For example, one time when he was doing one of those icky girly exams, he decided to start talking about Mustangs, torque, combustion engines, and other manly-man things. Or there was the time when he offered to give a meanie ex-boyfriend of mine a pap smear. My doctor and I get along fantastically. I actually like going to see my doctor because he makes me laugh so much. It’s kind of like going to Yuk-Yuks, but with more tongue depressors and less hecklers.

So yesterday we have a chat, and he carefully examines my painful hips. He stands back, looks pensively at me with his chin resting on his thumb, and says, “So. You want to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. In all honesty, I think you should wait.”

What!? WAIT?! I can’t “wait”! I have this whole blog thing, and some money already raised… I’ve been in The Optimist, man! I can’t “wait”!

“Ohh… I… I see…I mean, I guess I can understand that…” I say, as my brain starts reeling with the thousand and one things that I now need to do in order to stop this freight train.

“Yes”, he says, “I think you should wait”.

“Well, how long do you think I should wait for?”

Nodding his head sagely, knitting his brow, he takes a breath…

“Well, until they build a Mount Kilimanjaro in Vegas. Climb THAT one. And then you can go gambling after!”

Now THIS is my doctor in a nutshell.

“Well, really Doc, that does make sense. I mean, I can see the Eiffel Tower, go to the Pyramids AND climb Kilimanjaro all in one trip”, I say.

“In between the MGM Grand and The Mirage!”, he joyfully replies.

And in the end, after I stop laughing, and after he stops babbling on about Las Vegas, showgirls, and palm trees, he tells me that I’ll be ok to climb. Of course he knows very well that he wouldn’t be able to stop me anyway.

So for now, I will take it easy on myself. Maybe rest on the couch a bit more, put my feet up, have a bath, and take pleasure in the little things, like reading the magazines I deftly steal from his office.

Quite a few of you have been asking about who I’m climbing Mount Kilimanjaro with in August. At this point, the team isn’t fully dedicated yet, but I certainly have a good number of people interested in joining me. I’m one of those don’t-count-your-chickens-before-they-hatch type of people, so until the money is where the mouth is, I’m holding off on revealing the full team. But for now, Team Kili consists of some work colleagues, some acquaintances, and a couple of really good friends*.

Some of you have also asked if you can join me on my climb. The short answer: absolutely! However, please know that you are responsible for all of your costs (flight, guide and porters, food, accommodations, etc…), and it can be quite costly. But the thing is, it’s really a once-in-a-lifetime trip, so maybe you’re more than happy to put some money into this incredible adventure. If that’s the case, please contact me and we can discuss you becoming a part of Team Kili. I’d love to have you stand atop the highest peak in Africa with me.

On a side note: please excuse the lack of ha-ha in my last few blogs. I love to entertain you all, and from the feedback I get, you seem to rather enjoy it, too. However, when my body is in pain I tend to want to focus solely on healing that pain and making it go far, far away. I’m feeling much better (aside from a twinge on my morning commute today that nearly had me drive off the road), and so will hopefully be getting back to making you laugh in the very near future. In the meantime, if you’re really hard-up for a giggle, I highly recommend coming by my place and watching me as I try to get into my car with one wonky hip.

Happy Thursday! xo

*In the upcoming weeks, I am going to be announcing a VERY exciting addition to my Kili Team!

Last night at yoga, I was very clearly given the hint that I needed to be honest about something…

This past Autumn, I was experiencing a great deal of pain in my right hip. This leg had always been a bit wonky, and as a kid I thought it was rather cool that I could move the joint around in weird ways, and have it make awfully disgusting popping noises that caused friends to recoil in horror. It was also very handy in getting me out of 9th grade gym class on more than one occasion (sorry, Mrs. Salt!). So, when I was having pain in my hip one day a few months ago, I wasn’t concerned. I knew it would go away. It didn’t go away.

For seven days I was limping around, stubbornly waiting for the pain to magically disappear. It got to the point where I was I was having so much discomfort, that I wasn’t sleeping, and was having moments of extreme nausea and vomiting. That was when I knew something was really wrong.

By this time my very patient mother was chauffeuring me to and from work, so she dutifully drove me to the UBC hospital emergency ward on a physiotherapist’s recommendation. Now, I must say this: the UBC emerg is absolutely amazing. I went in, registered, and was called in less than 10 minutes later. An initial exam was complete, blood work was done, I was given pain medication, and was seen by the doctor less than 15 minutes after that. I was taken to x-ray (after the pain medication kicked in), and the x-rays were ready about 20 minutes later. There was barely enough time for my comfy, fuzzy heated blanket to cool off!

When the ER doc came to see me, she told me that the x-ray showed that I had considerable calcium deposits in my hips, the right one especially. They had been there for a long, long time, and were indicative of arthritis (something that runs in my family, anyway – gee, thanks mom and dad). I had to stop my personal training, something I had been really enjoying doing 3 times a week. I had to stop running. I used to run 10k every other day, and now I couldn’t take a step. Everything came to a grinding, unhappy halt in my life. I felt really, really… old.

Over time, the pain went away, but my hips always feel “tired” now, like I’ve run a thousand miles or so. And now, as more time passes, I am slowly introducing things back to my life: training, running (walking), yoga, and climbing the world’s largest free-standing, snow-covered equatorial mountain. You know, simple things like that.

In yoga last night my right hip decided that it really had done enough work for the day, and just gave out. No more strength, no more listening, just pain. I was totally embarrassed at being forced to show my limitations. I was frustrated and, of course, I started to cry. (Again, I must really thank Michael for the soft, dim lighting in the studio). Michael quite keenly noticed my distress, and came over to gently speak with me. As I tried not to blubber away too loudly, he simply told me to stop, and to go into Savassana. I put down my yoga strap, sighed in frustration, and bit my quivering lip. Michael, the angel that he is, brought me over a tissue and a lavender scented eye pillow. I quietly snurfled away in embarrassment, while people around me were happily pretzling themselves into yoga bliss.

So, after speaking with a kind friend, I decided to tell you all the truth. Here we go: I am climbing a mountain with over-active tear ducts, a fear of camping, a loathing of the cold, and a wonky set of hips.

See you at the top.