Boston Marathon 2019 Recap

Running the Boston Marathon for the first time in 2017 was an amazing experience.  I went into it completely “wide-eyed” and totally excited….and totally overwhelmed. It didn’t take me long to realize that this was “kind of a big deal.”  I didn’t know if I would ever get to run this race again, but I hoped that one day I would return….mom kept telling me she wanted to return to that awesome TJMaxx, in Boston and I can’t disappoint her right?! ;)

 

To rewind a bit, in March 2018 I decided to have my first rib and scalene muscles removed on my right side.  There was a very small chance that this surgery would cause breathing problems for the rest of my life if fluid did not drain properly from my lungs after the surgery. This would make exerting my breathing…aka exercise..something that I would not be able to do. Knowing this gave me a little push to do a marathon at the end of March that I was considering up in Carmel, Indiana. I ended up qualifying for Boston at that race a few weeks before surgery with a PR time. Honestly this gave me a little extra motivation in recovery as I wanted to heal and get strong and run again at Boston the following April—on my one year surgiversary. How cool is that?! 

Anyway, I felt SO much better going into Boston this time around. I knew the hotel, I knew the surroundings, I knew the routine of race morning, I knew what to expect on the course, etc. I just felt so much more comfortable with what was going on, and it made it a lot easier to relax and enjoy it.  

Deciding what to wear for the race was definitely the most stressful part. For 10+ days leading up to the race I kept packing and repacking thinking about the weather forecast that looked like cold rain, then hot rain, then scattered rain? Ay yi yi!

Friday morning before the race we arrived in Boston. That morning I woke up, went on a four mile run, took a quick shower, finished packing and got to my parents house by 11am (after stopping at Starbucks of course). From there we left for the airport and arrived in Boston around 4pm. We got the rental car and went to this yummy vegetarian place called “Walnut Grill.” Then we went back to the hotel.  We were all pretty tired, so we went to bed early.  They busy weekend was about to begin!

On Saturday we woke up and went to the breakfast buffet-AFTER getting an iced coffee at the hotel Starbucks J  After breakfast I went to get my nails done—a favorite pre race tradition! Priorities!  Blue and yellow Boston theme with some nail art 💖  It was nice to relax and get a little pampered before the race.  We headed back from the nail salon around noon and I started to get a hunger headache on the way back. We quickly went to the hotel’s restaurant so I could eat a veggie burger before heading to the expo.

Saturday afternoon we went to the T station to go downtown to the expo….and it was a ZOO-just as expected haha!  We had to wait outside for about 20 minutes before getting into the building because the line went outside about a block. Everyone had to have their bags checked before entering. Finally we got to the bib number pick up. I was SO excited because I made it into wave 2 this year—my goal J  (mainly because my bib would be WHITE and white goes best with PINK!).

Next we went to the shopping area where we hoped to buy some stuffed unicorns. But they ran out of them on Friday night. Mom was devastated because “that’s why I’m here” according to mom haha!  It was pretty sad news L Then we walked to the finish to take some pictures. By then we were all pretty worn out from standing in lines and walking around, so we decided to head back to the T station. The closest station was just beyond the finish line. In my opinion it is bad luck to cross a finish line before a race, so I stood there refusing to cross. (My poor parents probably never anticipated having to coax a 26 year old into walking forward 10 ft with them…)

Eventually my mom and dad offered to carry me across the line (and the best parents award goes to___!!!).  BUT I did not take them up on this…I made a path of papers across the line so that my feet would not need to touch the line directly. And YOU thought I was crazy before?!  (but hey, crazy is what got me here to run the Boston Marathon…that’s what gets most of us here. We don’t have Saturday mornings. We either get up early or eat dinner at 9 so we can train after work. It is crazy, but it is worth it! It is worth all 792 miles of training that got me to the start line!)

The rest of Saturday was pretty uneventful. We had dinner at Panera and then went to bed.

My TJmaxx "throw away" clothes. 

Sunday morning I woke up around 9 and went for a quick shake out run. It was good to  get back into the “I’m here to RUN a marathon” mindset. After just a few miles I went back into my hotel room, did some foam rolling and a little core work. Then I showered and changed and met my parents at the breakfast buffet (mom had my Starbucks coffee already—BEST mom everrrr!). The only thing on the agenda was to go to the TJmaxx in Newton to get some throw away clearance clothes for the race morning. Mom and I went to TJmaxx late morning and it was just as amazing as we remembered. I didn’t eat much breakfast, but after shopping I had worked up an appetite. We stopped for smoothies and almond butter toast—my favorite pre-race fueling meal. It totally hit the spot. Then we went back to the hotel and relaxed (aka watched HGTV for the rest of the afternoon). I laid out my clothes and made sure I had everything packed in the right bags for athlete village.  I slept great that night-I rarely get nervous before a race. I figure what happens-happens. Clearly I’m a super intense athlete ;)

Monday morning at 6:40 my alarm went off.  I rolled out of bed and put on some Arizona as I got ready. I put on my hot pink shirt and some waterproof mascara (racing is no excuse not to look your best!). My parents came to my room at 7:10 and they surprised me with the CUTEST cheering shirts that were sparkly and pink and said “Kim’s Crew.” 

My van left at 7:30, so we all waited in the lobby and then hugged my parents goodbye. I was expecting to see them around mile 17 in the race.  After the van ride we got dropped off at a bus shuttle to the start. I sat with a group of guys from SoCal and somehow our conversation turned to “why sharks WANT to bite you.”  They did not seem that convinced, but I tried to warn them and that’s all I can do. We got to athlete village and put our garbage bags next to a text and closer to the port-o-potties. We hung out there for a while eating bagels.  Then we decided to take turns going to the bathroom so that we could watch each others stuff. Then they started calling wave 1. I knew I had about 25 minutes until my wave would be called, so I started changing my shoes and filling up my water bottle. I took off my extra clothing which made me sad because I was cold. As my wave was called we started walking a mile to the starting corrals. Right before the corrals there is another section of port-o-potties.

ANY runner that sees a port-o-potty before a race will NEED to go. Guarantee. So of course everyone was in line again while the wave was about to begin in 10 minutes. Fortunately I was in the 8^th corral, so I didn’t have very fair to go.  Even if the race did start I would not get to the start line for another 10 minutes. Everyone else around me was still pretty panicked. I’ve never felt so much pressure to pee so quickly!  One of the guys behind me said, “man..you train all these months and it comes down to THIS?!” LOL yup it totally comes down to picking the fastest port-o-potty line! So be warned…

I got to my corral with a few minutes to spare. The wave started and a few minutes later we were walking toward the start line. Ready or not this race was beginning! Off to Boston we go!

Last time I race this course I learned the hard way-GO OUT CONSERVATIVE OR YOU WILL PAY!  Boston is a HARD course. Respect it! The start kills your quads and the hills are at your hardest miles towards the end. Last time I did not hit the wall at mile 15, I slammed into it. OUCH! ....This time was different on so many levels. Starting in the back of wave 2 (as opposed to the front of wave 3 like last time) was SOOOOOO much better. Everyone ran ahead and I was perfectly content chilling in the back running and smiling.  Of course I want to do well, but at the same time I wanted to enjoy the race with no  specific time goal…not my fastest that’s for sure. But hey- I’m running the Boston marathon so I ain’t got nothin’ to prove ;)  

I never looked at my watch for pace the whole race-I just kept track of the miles so I knew when to start looking for my parents. It was pretty hot and humid so that was a challenge that I think many runners were not ready for. Not the best conditions, but not terrible either. That’s kind of how I felt in general-not amazing, but not terrible. Just “meh.” I put on the tunes and enjoyed all the crowds of people cheering us on. I stayed in the middle of the road-not getting to close to the crowds. It can be kind of overwhelming, so I like to enjoy the crowds with some personal space by hanging out in the middle. At mile 6 there were some people giving jelly beans. I was like, “heyyy meet me at mile 22 pleaseeee!”). People offer so much food on the course. They have fruit, popsicles, candy, water, etc. It is so awesome.  I think I only took a cup of water from a spectator at one point, but I can’t really remember.

My stomach was feeling a little off. Not bad, but not great, so I started getting water at the aid stations. Being in the back of the wave made it so easy to get over to the side, and this was much easier this time. I had much more room the entire race. Once I started having more water I was feeling a little better.  I just kept cruising along loving life until mile 16 when I started looking for my parents. Around mile 16.5 I spotted them in their bright yellow shirts. I ran over to them and gave them both a hug….I mean they came all this way to watch me race and see me for 10 seconds and I can’t interrupt my running to give them a quick hug?! Of course I can! And I did!

“Power hugs” from mom and dad kept me going for the next 3 miles. I saw the “Newton” town sign-GULP!  The hills are coming!  The hills are coming!

I made it through the first two hills with a rather pathetic jog. And then Heartbreak appeared and Broke. My. Heart. I walked up most of heartbreak.  That was definitely the lowest moment of the race for me. When I got to the top I started to jog again and then started committing to each aid station.  In triathlon I would always run mile by mile getting to the next aid station to walk through and then keep running until the next aid station. It helps you manage the miles when the going gets tough. You just focus on one mile at a time. 

With 5 miles to go the crowds got thicker and thicker.   This is when you hear a lot of “good job you’re almost there!”  Which is something you should never ever say to a runner. I want to punch those people in the face. I know they mean well, but after 20+ miles of running even just a few miles is tough. You’re pretty much over it at that point and being done in 20 minutes is not soon enough. Better alternative—“you’re looking strong, keep going!”  That’s right! Flatter my ego ;)

Soon I was approaching the famous “Citgo” sign. I started to get excited knowing the finish was getting very close. Crowds were going wild!  As I turned to see the finish line just a few blocks ahead I looked to the right and saw my mom yelling “GO KIM!”  I smiled and waved at her and tried to finish hard.  I threw my arms in the air and crossed the finish line. I had just completed my second Boston marathon!!!

When you finish you have to walk another mile past the finish line to get your metal, water and foil blanket (they wrap you like a burrito and put a sticker to hold it together.). One table had cups of Gatorade and I decided to have a cup since the race was over. BAD mistake. My stomach immediate started cramping really bad = hunchback status. I was stopped and bent over when one of the volunteers made sure I was ok. I said I was fine, but that my stomach was just cramping up so they walked with me for a bit. Finally I reached the end where the closest T (Arlington) station would take me back to the hotel.  My parents and I would meet back at the hotel.  I walked down the stairs (…extremely hard after running 26.2…which is really 28.2 when you count the mile to the start line and mile after the finish) and asked if I could get to Riverside from here. I was told “no-you have to go to the other side.” 

I nearly had a melt down….

Hear me out people. Telling someone who literally finished a marathon 20 minutes ago (and has a cramping stomach) that they have to WALK back UP the stairs to WALK DOWN another flight of stairs is basically like telling them to go run another marathon.

Thankfully I “put my big girl panties on” and held it together. Soon I got to the correct side of the station and was heading back to the hotel.  I shivered the whole way and another racer gave me his foil blanket so I could have 2! 

We took a few pics when we got back to the hotel (it’s all about the hardware!). I was still freezing cold and a hot shower felt amazing! I wasn’t super hungry, but I was in the mood for FROYO!! We decided to go to the cheesecake factory for dinner and then froyo for dessert. It totally hit the spot!  YUMMMMMM…

Tuesday morning we had breakfast and needed to get to the airport by noon.  I was not very sore at all (I literally came into the office Wednesday doing squats haha---NEW BALANCE 860’s are AH-MAZING!). Some told my mom, “She RAN the marathon? Wow she doesn’t look like it…she’s walking fine.” Bahahaha I’m glad I didn’t have the post race limp! 

It all went so fast and I can’t believe it was a few weeks ago already!  I’ve started running again—just little 4-5 mile shakeout runs every few days. I also went to the pool and have been going to yoga a few times a week. No formal training-just what I feel like doing and taking it as it comes.

Will I run Boston again?  I certainly hope I will have the opportunity to do it again!! Running has been really fun these last few years as my triathlon endeavors took a back seat for shoulder surgeries. I’m taking the next month to figure out where my heart is right now and that next challenge I’m ready to take on!  To be honest part of me is itching to get back into triathlon because it has been so long. I’d like to train triathlon for the rest of the year and maybe do another marathon next year—mix it up a bit? I really don’t know at this point…and that’s ok. Right now I’m still celebrating the race and the journey of Boston Strong 2019!

Surgery is Hard-Recovery is HARDER! (My FRR Surgery & Experience So Far...)

FRR: Front Rib Resection (Surgery for Thoracic Outlet Syndrome)

My mom had just driven me home the three hour trek from Tampa.  That is all I remember. Lots of pain killing goodness goin’ on in my body ; )

She dropped me at my place and settled me in a bit before leaving to walk the dogs. 

I was so proud.  I had done it. Maybe I'm not so bad at this surgery thing...I had gone through the surgery and COULD STILL BREATHE OK (I had some fluid in my lung and had a breath tube to practice and allow my lungs to remember how to expand, but still…).  It’s all over. Phew! Then it hit me:

This is NOT at all OVER. Your journey to being “normal” again is FARRRR from OVER!

And with that epiphany I had a small-ish meltdown and went to bed.

So many times in this recovery I have thought, MAN-this is wayyyy harder than I anticipated.  Who knew spending a few days in the hospital would be the easiest part of this journey?! I’m an athlete. My body’s supposed to “get with it” quicker than this!  Then I usually text my mom “I’m a weak potato” to which she responds “be patient mini-muffin"...or reminds me of my gift of running ;)

To be fair, the surgery itself took MONTHS of decision-making and terror.  I’ve never been more afraid in my life.  The process of diagnosing and pre surgery PT took about 5 months and trips to hospitals in Orlando and Tampa.  

The day I finally scheduled the surgery I stepped out of the office for a minute, came back in, and put a post-it on my desk with 41:10 followed by April 12th --10AM.

Then I prepared. And by prepared I mean tried to distract myself by “getting ready.”  My mom ordered a rental recliner for my apartment for a month.  I bought a snoogle for post surgery sleep.  I booked the hotel mom would be staying at. I got out all my shoulder surgery goodies (including the ice cube aka BEST THING EVERRRR) and sorted my clothes with strapless stretching things accessible.  I didn’t really bother buying food because I didn’t know how long my weird post-surgery appetite would be. It ended up lasting a month.  Smoothies, waffles and pickle cashews were my favorite....and coconut water (though that was either a love or hate depending on the hour).  The first few bites usually tasted good, but then the nausea quickly appeared.

Then the day finally came.  I got to the hospital and quickly changed into my gown.  (PS Tampa general has heat pumps that blow hot air into your gown. LOOOOOVVEEE me some heat!)

The nurses came in and stuck the IV’s in (one oh so conveniently placed in the crease of my elbow-which became a nuisance later).  The anesthesiologist came and I told her that I get very nauseous and Percocet is terrible for me.  She put a nausea patch behind my ear. It helped a lot…but I still threw up later…

I was crying on and off.  I was not sedated at all before the surgery and that made my nerves go crazy.  Last time I was half asleep before they wheeled me in the operating room (drugs work!), but this time I was wide awake and fully aware of my fear. Mom and I watched some Jimmy Fallon Hashtags while waiting to get a few laughs since it helped last time...surgery tradition?? (Let's hope it's a tradition that does not continue bc I don't want to go under the knife again..)

Next thing I knew I was waking up in the PACU recovery room. I was pretty loopy, but I was not nauseous or in pain, so I was SO relieved.  Before surgery I told the doctors that last time I woke up in the PACU I was scared, confused and very emotional, but this time I knew where I was.  Then the nurse checked on me and gave me a “magic button” (aka morphene). I could press it every 6 minutes for pain relief in my IV.  I was not in pain, but I didn’t want to be in pain either, so you better believe I pressed that thing as much as possible. Again-- drugs WORK! Woooo! (and yes, that red cord is my drainage..how lovely right?!...you definitely needed to know that-NOT!)

But drugs also make you verrryyyyy tired. So I slept on and off for an hour or so while others were being wheeled in.  After a while I asked the nurse when I could see my mom.  I had to wait a few hours and she was only allowed for 10 minutes.  My room was not ready for SIX hours and you better believe I was NOT happy about it (mostly because my mom couldn’t be with me until I got to my room). The doctor came in to talk with me about meds and as I looked at him completely confused he told me "you're not going to remember anything I'm telling you..." and I was like "yup...I have no idea what you're saying right now."  Later he came to my room and I asked him if he was trying to talk to me earlier haha!

I finally got to my room and that’s when the meltdown happened.  I was trying to go to the bathroom but I was hooked up to so many things it was such a hassle.  I had to bring the IV stand hooked to my arm and a drain tube coming from my collarbone area.  After a short nap in bed I suddenly felt nausea and despite holding a “barf bag” I still managed to vomit all over myself and my bed. So now I had to be taken to the bathroom again to get cleaned up and changed while my bed was changed.  Helpless and humiliated. OH…and in pain. Throwing up after rib removal is NO BUENO!

I had another moment of nausea in the middle of the night, but a few crackers and ginger ale helped.  I was woken up every 4 hours for stomach injections to prevent blood clot (yay bruises..) but my morning my wake up call began at 7am the next morning with doctors, a blood draw, and an x-ray of my lungs. Apparently I had an EKG in the middle of the night.  I was setting off the machines/monitors bc my crazy low HR (37bpm), so they checked it out haha!  

Around 9am my mom came to the hospital---with  Dunkin Donuts coffee in arms.  “Mom, I love you…But…you know I’m a STARBUCKS girl…” VENTI ICED COLD BREW💖

Yes, I was very much myself and getting cut up doesn’t change my coffee expectations!....I'll only downsize to a grade to come across less "extra" for an generous--and *attractive-- man ;) haha! So of course...Mom put up with this diva of a daughter and  went down to the hospital starbucks and got me a delicious iced coffee.  Then she helped me put on a headband and eyeliner bc HELLO—Single in a hospital full of DRS ;)

Then I received a bouquet of flowers from my coworkers and it was so sweet!  I was feeling really good at this point.  I was managing oral pain meds so at that point I was going to be discharged the next morning.  YAY! I was not hooked up to anything my second night in the hospital. BEST THING EVERRR.

Here I just want to note that the nurses on the Vascular Floor at Tampa General Hospital were amazing!  I cannot thank them enough!! 💖💖💖   

Leaving the hospital we went straight to Great Clips to get my hair washed. This continues to be a LUXURY…It is exhausting to keep my hand above my head to do simple things like this. 

I was expecting the worst, so the pain was really not that bad.  My whole right side (chest and arm) were numb (still is numb) and VERY sensitive to the touch.  I could not lift my arm and put clothes on over my head, and I did not want clothes to touch the very sensitive nerves so I wore mostly stretchy and strapless for weeks. 

A few weeks after the surgery I had my post-op and the Doctor was happy with my progress, but said it would be awhile until I’ll be my active self again.  I was told to start PT when I got home.

____

At this point my mom was still coming over to help me cut food or bring meals and do laundry and dishes.  I started PT three times a week before work, and I started making progress.  Slowly…but surely.  After about 2 months I could finally lift my arm above my head!  LIFE CHANGING!

Then one day about 2 months after surgery I decided to curl my hair….it looked great…

BUT about halfway through I knew it was a mistake and knew I needed to “abort mission." Oops!  I ended up spending the rest of the weekend on the couch because I was in SO.much.pain.

Things are still challenging for me.  Lifting my arm to change the radio station requires a great deal of effort.  Shopping (reaching for things on the shelves) is exhausting.  The nerves are still trying to attach to the muscle and start firing again, which causes random “shock” pains that run through my chest/arm. 

I have made SO much progress and I don’t forget that…BUT this journey is NOT over.  It requires more preseverence than I anticipated.  To be honest in some moments I want to be done. I’m tired and I yell at God for giving me one painful experience after the next.  I want to give up. Some days I feel like I can't go on like this. I get mad at my body for not working the way it's supposed to.  To be honest, I don't even remember "normal."

People tell me 5 months is not that long…but they’re not living it. It’s not their reality.   Not trying to criticize people trying to be empathetic and I know that they are just trying to stay positive, but just to put it out there that there that sometimes encouragement feels like discounting a situation as not being that bad or not being that long.  

I do not regret this surgery.  I cannot imagine NOT having had it.  Also I’m totally going to put it this out there, but I can tell that “something” is missing in my chest. VERY very weird.  I do think that eventually it will be SO worth all these challenges that my body is facing as my muscles re-learn how to be muscles again ;) Also making up stories for the scar on my neck is getting pretty entertaining haha!   (lately I've been making up a vanity story in which my rib was sticking out more than they other and I didn't like it anymore so I had it removed...then I point to my non surgery side and say "see how the rib on this side isn't noticeable?! hahaha and of course people nod while looking like you have 2 heads bc nothing makes sense at ALL...even when I do confess the truth I'm still the freak...)  

Scar = Much improved!  And to be honest, it doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would.  It's more sensitive to the touch than it is for the eyes.  I thought it would turn people away...silly I know. I could barely look at myself, so who would want to look at me?  I was literally researching "scar removal" 24 hours after surgery while being in the hospital bed.  But God changed my heart and let me see the beauty in my broken.  The way He has with other things in my life. Another Ebenezer-pointing to God's faithfulness. I know there are times when I need to look back on my life…look upon my scars and the Ebenezers and be encouraged about ALL the times that God was faithful to rescue me.  The best thing about this Ebenezer is that not a day goes by that I don't visibly see it, making it hard to forget. 

Was the surgery successful? Well in answering that question, I really don't look at "medical results."  Because I don't need the "end medical opinion" to tell me if it was successful or not. It was. Why? It made me put my hope and trust fully in God and God alone. It took my faith "deeper than my feet could ever wander."  I still remember the weekend before the surgery when I finally surrendered and said, "God I trust you with the outcome...even if the outcome is not what I want. Even if I never run again because of this."  For this reason not only do I consider my surgery a success, I consider my swimming career a success and my teaching career a success.  It might not be "successful" to the world, but this world is not my home.  

Surgery was hard, but the hard doesn't end. Not to sound depressing, but that’s kind of where I’m at right now.  I'm getting stronger and certainly healing, but I'm also discouraged and tired of being on this path.  I’m worn down and longing for a finish line.  If you have had health challenges of your own or are currently experiencing them, I'm sure you can relate to this.   Sometimes people tell me I'm strong or I'm a fighter...but I don't really feel like I've had a choice. What are the other options? Just keep doing what need to be done while trying to keep my head up? I hope that in a very short while, I will be 100%.  I hope that one day I'll say, "Remember that year I needed help washing my hair every weekend?!  So glad THAT'S over!"   Also, I considered myself a prickly pear before...as in "don't touch me," but now that is even MORE true.  My friend gave me a hug the other day and it hurt SO bad.  THIS...SO true. Hugs CAN and DO hurt...but handing me a cup of coffee is a great alternative ;) 

It will likely be a full year for total recovery...so April 2019.  We're looking at 2 more months of PT, so my goal is to graduate by Thansgiving! At my most recent appointment I was told that a "redo" surgery would not be needed.  Yay!!!  It is also unlikely that I will move forward with having my left side done.  Often this is a bilateral problem and I do experience symptoms on my left side, but not at the extent of what I was experiencing on my right side. Another surgeon wanted me to do both sides within months of each other, but for now we have opted out of that....after all, apparently I'm "too young and pretty to have another go 'round" --thanks doc ;) 

As much as this has taken a lot of hard work and persistence on my part, I want to thank everyone who has continued to support and pray for me.  Everyday I walk through the door I see all your beautiful words of encouragement and I feel like I have so many cheering me on. Thank you!  As I continue on this journey, I remember that every body is different and every story of recovery is different. 

...And so my story does not end here.  It will take a lot more time and effort to "get back to where I was."  Kind of reminds me of my first time swimming the dreaded mile...you keep going and going and wondering if it's ever going to end.  But nope..you just flip at the wall to do another lap.  So here's to another flip!..and many more flips in the coming months. 

The word "steadfast" has been on my heart a lot this year...meaning firm and unwavering.  Sometimes you just need to stand. The waves crash and the wind blows, but you continue to trust that God is there and God is good. 

Please continue to pray for strength, healing, energy and encouragement to continue this journey💕