Strength

I write a lot on here about physical strength, but I think emotional strength and strength of character are extremely important aspects of a person's make up, too.  I was blessed this weekend with the opportunity to honor a very good friend whose strength I admire, and it got me thinking about my own.

We spent Saturday evening at the American Cancer Society Pavilion Ball, where my friend Chrissy was honored for her tremendous strength during her fight against breast cancer this past year.  We were all pretty dumbfounded when we got the news of her diagnosis.  She was only 39 years old, had three young kids and was a strong, active person.  Chrissy is the kind of person who does more in a day than most people do in a week.  This certainly couldn't be true.  But it was.  And within a few days the words mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation became a part of our every day lives.  

True to her self, she took the disease head on and fought it off with extreme toughness and dignity.  She barely slowed down through hundreds of appointments, chemo, radiation, and the regular craziness of running her family's daily life.  We lectured her about taking it easy sometimes, but knew also that keeping busy was something she needed to do for herself.  

When her hair started to fall out she didn't mourn the loss - she threw a head shaving party instead!  In support her husband shaved his too.  (And she kindly requested he not do that ever again).  At a birthday party one night while dancing with friends Chrissy took off her wig because it was getting so hot.  She remained without it the rest of the night.  I remember thinking how gorgeous she looked - and how courageous she was. I couldn't help but wonder if I was in her position, would I be able to be that strong?

Below are a few pics from Saturday night.  As you can see, Chrissy is doing fabulous and looking even more beautiful than ever. We had a fabulous time celebrating her strength, courage and her life!

Halloween

I'd like to be able to say that all that Halloween didn't have a negative effect on me but I'd be lying - something I'm not so good at.  It's actually not all the crap in the girls trick-or-treat baskets that's killing me (they got a lot of stuff!) but rather the bowl full sugar on the dining room table that's killing me.  

You see, we didn't actually get one "official" trick-or-treater on Halloween night. We live in a neighborhood full of kid that is actually inundated with "drop-off trick-or-treaters".  Though this is the 3rd year we've lived here and we've had very few in the past, I somehow thought this year would be different so despite my initial attempt to steer clear of things that I knew I'd eat by buying non-chocolate containing treats - I not only purchased the Swedish Fish and Sour Patch Kids I thought I'd never eat (but realized I LOVED!) but also a few small bags of Snickers and Milky Ways.  What a mistake.

We did get two "unofficial" doorbell rings, of which I gave out a handful or two to, of course.  There was KK - who managed to fool me despite the fact that she lives in this very house - and M and her BFF who came all the way from her house on the opposite end of the neighborhood where they were having a birthday party.  I figured that since I'm so elated that her BFF moved in to our neighborhood last week I had to reward that a little.  As I am related to both ringers, however, I can't actually consider either part of the "official" count.  

So, as of today it's Halloween 1 - Amy - 0.   

Swim, Bike, Sleep

It's Monday, which means I got my butt kicked on the bike this morning.  I was a few minutes late to class because the kids didn't have school today and I actually had a wake KK up at 9:15 - which never happens (post-Halloween sugar coma?). I almost skipped class to let her sleep, but then I thought better of it.  Damn me and my public promises.

Then this afternoon I took the girls and a few friends to the new Smith Aquatic Center.  It's a nice pool with a great kids area, two water slides and a decent diving well.  One of the bonuses of having swimmers for kids is that they don't need (or want) me to watch them, let alone hang out with them in the pool.  But they are only 8 & 10 so I have to be there. So, what do you do when you're in you swimsuit at the pool, you don't need to be chasing little kids anymore and cocktails aren't an option?  Here's a crazy idea - how about swimming?  

I won't lie.  Even after all the miles I've logged running and biking over the past few months swimming laps wasn't easy.  Truthfully it was hard. I was winded after my first 6 laps.  I continued on, however, and completed 34 (with periodic breaks to check that the kids were still alive - I did have the neighbor kids, too, afterall) which is about 1/2 a mile.    

What are the chances that Hyam's kids, who happened to be at the pool at a birthday party, remember to tell her not only that they saw me there but that I was actually swimming? Because the way I see it that was a bonus workout - I deserve a little extra credit for it.

And as for the third leg of today's triathlon - [[sleep]] - I just swallowed my Lunesta and hope to be accomplishing it very soon too.  Good night!

Wonder Woman

During our workout yesterday something very strange happened - Hyam's elbow dislocated.  Right there in front of us, while doing an inverted plank it just popped right out.  Thank God she was leaning on both arms because without that stability it surely would've popped right out of her skin.  Yes, it was that bad.

I'd like to say that we all reacted calmly and helpfully, but truthfully most of us had no clue what to do.  The lone guy in our group (who is obviously an amazing person because he puts up with us twice a week and is always in good spirits) pulled it together quickly enough to ask "What do you need us to do?"  while the rest of us stared in horror.

What did she need us to do?  Nothing, of course, because she's Hyam and she's not just another pretty face with rock hard abs.  She's a frickin' rockstar.  She somehow, despite the pain, mustered up the strength pop her elbow back in on her own (while the rest of of gawked).  Push - POP - and then "okay everyone -  feet on the quad for tricep push ups."  Ummmmm....okay.....

She finished the class with just a little less than her normal gusto and a lot of  "Are you sure"s and "Hyam, don't do that!"s.  We could all tell she was in pain - not to mention that we could see her elbow swelling like a balloon -  but we stood by our fearless leader lunging, squatting, curling and wondering - "who the hell is this woman anyway? Wonder Woman?  She-Ra?" Nope - she's better than that -  she's Hyam. 


And yes, I want to be as awesome as her when I grow up.

Feed a Fever & Sweat a Cold?

I could feel it coming on a few nights ago - a stupid, stinkin' cold.  Not the kind of cold that knocks you on your butt, but rather the kind that makes you feel just bad enough to pout but not bad enough to miss work.  There it was - creeping it's way into my body.


I tossed, turned, coughed, and sniffed throughout the night, finally retreating to the guest bedroom so the Spicy Chicken wouldn't have to suffer too (he needs his beauty sleep, you know).  After a few hours of fitful sleep the sun rose and I was moving, albeit slowly, into my day.

It was Wednesday which, as you know, means a morning workout at Clay, followed by an afternoon at Leadership Charlottesville. I'll admit I considered "calling in sick" but thought better of it seeing as I just vowed to y'all that I wouldn't miss any more classes.  Besides, it was just a little cold.

When I got to class I made a bee-line for Hyam, making sure to let her know that I was a little under the weather.  I didn't want her to think I was slacking off (or call me out in the middle of class for doing so!).  I won't lie - it kind of sucked.  This cold had made it's home not in it's usual place - my sinuses - but was rattling around in my chest making breathing somewhat of a chore.  I tend to find breathing in class difficult anyway, so this was particularly challenging.  I took a few extra breathers, coughed out a little phlegm while everyone else was doing lunges, and slacked off a little on some of the cardio, but I survived.

Actutally, I did more than survive.  By the time the hour was up I actually felt pretty good.  My chest had almost cleared, my headache was gone and I was starting to feel human again.  Had all that sweating cured my cold?  It felt like it.

For years the Spicy Chicken has swore to me that when he got a cold that "sweating it out" made him feel better. I thought he was crazy, though it often seemed to work - at least temporarily - for him.  I did a little research (emphasis on little) to see if there was any basis to the "sweating it out" theory and didn't find much to substantiate it.  Ironically, however, I did open my Real Simple magazine last night to find an article on dealing with colds that suggested "cardio" as a remedy.

At the end of the class one of my classmates said "You are either going to feel much better tonight - or much, much worse."  And she was right.  If you watched my C'ville Plugged In segment tonight you know which one came true.  Is it bad to sleep with a bottle of Nyquil?

In hindsight I realize that it wasn't smart to put my own needs ahead of the health of my classmates and I would've been better off to keep my germs at home. So my apologies to them for my lack of discretion on this matter.  Hope to see you all happy and healthy on Monday!