10

10 years today and so thankful.

I'm Still Here!

So, if you're still reading this (there may be a few of you), I have not dropped off the face of the planet! Actually, I have in some ways, but as usual, I have an excellent excuse. Third year began in full force a month ago and...WOW. Needless to say, I hadn't fully appreciated how busy I would be on this first rotation.

I suppose many things this year haven't gone the way I expected them to go, for better or worse. I started this blog with the intention of meeting a personal goal and marking an occasion, but things change. It has been an interesting transition to seeing this blog less as a means to an end than as an exercise in self-reflection, but that's what it has become, and I've been grateful for the outlet. That said, life moves quickly and unfortunately, updating this blog always falls at the bottom of my "to do" list.

So, it is with great appreciation to my readers that I sign off, at least for now. Thank you for making this a meaningful endeavor, however unexpected the endpoint turned out to be. One thing is for sure: over $10,000 has been raised for transplant research and meds by way of, well, you, my generous family and friends. Incredible, no?

xxoo, Sarah

No Way You're Never Gonna Shake Me

The past week has been a reminder of what summer feels like--especially what it's like to be surrounded by the very same friends my six year-old self (and in one special case, my twelve year-old self) met in the classrooms, on the playgrounds and in the lunchrooms of Willard Elementary and George Washington Middle School. I'm still amazed at my foresight--and my luck (see the video below for exhibit A).



Yeah. Incriminating, but somehow necessary--and that was just a teensy portion of the ride home from our weekend getaway. I couldn't have asked for a better two days.

I love you girls. There's so much to say, but my words come up embarrassingly short. As the wise Mariah Carey once said, you're never gonna shake me. We'll be friends 'til we're dancing around with our walkers.

So...clearly, this post has nothing to do with swimming or running or anything of the sort. Plenty of time for that. Back to Boston tomorrow and onto the next thing: third year. Yikes.

In the Meantime...

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/17/health/17organ.html?hp

T-7 days to freedom. Hallelujah.

Lessons

Here are some things I've learned since I started swimming:

1. Only amateurs use the ladder. [Same goes for the swimsuit dryer thinger, but use it anyway, because it's awesome.]
2. Just because you're not sweating doesn't mean you won't want to eat the entire contents of your refrigerator when you get home.
3. Bob the Ridiculously Energetic Spinning Teacher swims. And goes out to lunch. And teaches spin class...all while wearing the same two-piece spandex suit!

Jumping In!

Actually, climbing in...very slowly (it is only 4 feet deep, after all).

I must admit, besides spending much of last week doing all too much thinking about fears and worst-case-scenarios and torturing myself and everyone who dared cross my path, I also wondered why I ever started this little blog in the first place. I wished I hadn't. I am feeling much more optimistic now, especially since I started swimming.

Rather than dwell on possibilities which likely (if I have any say) won't come to fruition, these days I'm more occupied with noticing the copious gym perks seemingly meant exclusively for swimmers. How had I not realized that all this time, I have been being treated as a second class citizen to the swimming elite? I'll start with the steam room. Who in their right mind would sit in a 105 degree room after a non-aquatic aerobic workout? Also, there's the issue of the showers. The shower room is directly connected to the pool area, so as to facilitate swimmers' access. Anyone coming from elsewhere in the gym must peel off and deposit their workout gear in a locker, then traverse the entire locker room clad in a towel to potentially wait for a shower to become free--not the worst fate but obviously not acceptable to swimmers, who have first dibs on hopping in. Did I mention the bathing suit dryer thinga-miggiger? Yup, you read right. But, whadda you know? No regular washer/dryer to be found.

Then there's the pool itself, quiet and peaceful and well-maintained--without the pumped-in music that permeates through the rest of the gym. Though only four lanes, it's plenty large to cater to the gym's small swimming population. So far, I've only had to share my lane once (then, the serious swimmer there before I arrived switched to a newly unoccupied lane of her own). Unlike the rules that apply to treadmills, ellipticals and the like, there's no limit to the amount of time one can occupy a swimming lane during peak hours.

You can imagine that to a newbie like me, these newly-discovered benefits are especially exciting. All in all, an auspicious start to my new activity.

Just Keep Swimming

Last Thursday, I got off the train at Penn Station and went straight to the Hospital for Special Surgery. For the past month or so, I have been feeling a mysterious pain in my right leg, which I could no longer ignore. Roughly 24 hours after I arrived in New York, I was having an MRI. Days later, I got the call from my doctor.

I can't run anymore. Not now, not ever, or so I'm told. Years of high-dose steroids and low vitamin D during a period of crucial bone-building took its toll. For anyone who ever doubted the power of steroids to deliver life-saving treatment and life-altering side effects, let my situation be exhibit A. I have known for years my bones were weak, but never anticipated that at the age of 25, I'd already be forced to make adjustments to my activity and to my expectations. The impact of this news really hit me yesterday, as anyone in close proximity or phone contact with me could tell you. But as Natalie reminded me, the sun rises every day. Things are starting to look a little less dim.

I will not be marking this 10 year anniversary with a 10k. However, I have every intention of finding a suitable alternative to mark the occasion, even if it takes longer to reach my goal. Some of you have had the pleasure of hearing about the one summer that I was in the most advanced swim group at Camp Ramah. For four weeks, I looked out on the commanding view from the dock in the deepest water and sauntered around the lake like I owned the place, superior to the masses of others treading in shallower water. Nevermind that I was demoted several groups the next summer. I always knew that was a mistake, some cruel misunderstanding or test of character. It has been years since I've ventured voluntarily into a pool for anything more than lazing in an inner tube with a book, but now I intend to recapture my former glory as a swimmer.

This new chapter will be different and potentially more difficult. Soon I'll emerge from this current fog. When I do, I'm looking forward to the challenge.