Remembering Michael Jackson

Sorry folks, this doesn’t have a thing to do with running.

I was beyond shocked yesterday when my step-daughter told me about a text she had received just then.  ”Michael Jackson died,” she said.  Not wanting to believe her, I quickly looked up several news sites, a few of which confirmed what she had just found out.  (It wasn’t widely reported at that time, yet.)  I looked at her and asked, mostly rhetorically, “Do you have any idea how huge he was?”

I don’t know that anyone in their twenties or teens can grasp the enormity that was MICHAEL JACKSON.  I was born in 1974, so my MJ was the 1983-84 Thriller era superstar.  I remember awaiting the World Premier of the the Thriller video, sitting anxiously with my best friend, who ushered in the occasion with her brand-new zipper jacket and single white glove. I kind of laughed at her, I’ll admit – but that kind of fanaticism is what Michel Jackson fans were all about.  

We waited breathlessly as Vincent Price’s voice filled my living room and we watched a hyper-choreographed zombie fest mini movie that satisfied every hope we had held for this momentous moment.  Only when it ended did we finally look away from our MTV to say, simply, “wow.”

I haven’t turned the television on since a few days ago, I prefer to read most of my news.  And I have been reading this and that about his death.  Some reports confirming what I had immediately assumed about a possible link between his sudden cardiac arrest and painkiller use.  I imagine a man who tried to cope with physical and emotional pain, in a world where money and accessibility were no problem.  Of course I’m only guessing, but there seemed to be plenty of hurt and loneliness in his life.  

And just a few minutes ago, in the car, an oldies (yes, it hurts to say that) station was playing all Michael Jackson requests. Caller after caller recounted memories of his music – whether they were Jackson Five era fans or Thriller and later era fans.  The man made an impact, people.  And I felt unexpectedly moved as I realized just how talented he was how the world had lost something special yesterday.

I can’t think of anyone more famous than he was, at the time he died.  Even though he hadn’t put out any new material in years, even though all we could see now was the masked man, odd being he had warped in to – we couldn’t help but watch him.  And I hate that some younger people will have only known him as that man.  Sometimes, it sucks to be young.  

In his defense, he was robbed of anything resembling a normal childhood.  He was surrounded by people that I can only assume didn’t have his best interests at heart.  He never seemed to fit in any world, any race, any age, any sex – so he kind of floated through his life looking for something he probably never found.  And that makes me sad. 

I choose to remember him as the most amazing entertainer of my generation.  He could dance like nobody’s business, sing like he meant it, and capture an audience like I bet no one will ever do again.

This is the end of an era of sorts.

May he find the peace that eluded him here.

-karin

If you can’t take the heat…

So here’s what on our local weather site:

—–An AIR QUALITY ALERT LEVEL RED = UNHEALTHY is in effect today. A HEAT ADVISORY begins at 2 pm today and will last through 8 pm Thursday.—–

Blah.  Last night, it was just too hot.  We’re talking 95 degrees at sunset.  Can I hear a WTF??!!  So, I thought, well, I’ll walk with Coco instead of going on our usual run.  We walked three miles, and by the end of it, I was covered in sweat and Coco was panting and very hot.  It almost seemed as if walking at a quick 13:45 pace was more difficult than running at a slow 11:30 pace.  I started to think about the reasons it felt more challenging and all I could surmise was that I was taking very long strides in order to maintain that pace.  When I run at a slow pace, I take very short strides - so maybe that’s why it feels easier. 

But we got our three miles in.  And I suppose that’s the important part. 

As soon as we got in the house, Coco stretched out on the hardwood floor and didn’t move much til this morning, when she moved to her Donut Dozer for a more cushioned slumber.   I often wonder how this dog can be so sleepy!!

It seems as if we’re in for a very long hot Texas summer.  The highs this week are all topping 100 degrees and there won’t be any end in sight until September.  Luckily we’re heading to the mountains in less than three weeks.  It’s a great respite form the summer here, but it always feels even hotter when we return.   

I want to run as much as possible – but I never want to jeopardize Coco’s well-being.  I think we’re going to have to switch to morning runs.   And we’re not morning people, if you know what I mean.  And it’s not much cooler then.  For example, this morning at 10:00, it was already 88 degrees.  And mornings tend to be more humid.  So, I don’t know what to do!! 

Oh sometimes I wish we lived somewhere else.  At least in the summer. 

Am I a Runner Yet?

I have often wondered, “at what point does one actually become a runner?” Does running from Point A to Point B because you’re in a hurry make you a runner?  Probably not…  So, is it frequency?  Equipment?  Shoes? Distance?  Speed?  Races entered? I imagine that for every person asked, you would get a different answer. 

A few months ago, Don bought me a Road ID Wrist Bracelet  and at the bottom, after the pertinent digits, you can add a motivational phrase.  On mine, he chose to inscribe “I am a runner.”  Why?  Well, because I used to wonder aloud if I was a runner yet.   And he would assure me that yes, I was a runner.   But, when you live with a marathoner who logs in 55 mile-weeks, running a measly two miles here and three miles there doesn’t exactly make one feel like “a runner” by comparison.  

I have learned that here lies some of the beauty of running.  You can run your entire life without ever needing to compare yourself to another runner.  You never have to run a race, or with anyone, or against anyone, and you never have to to time yourself if you don’t want to.  But it meant so much to me that he thought I had become one.  And, I had the bracelet to prove that I am indeed, a runner!  

If I were pressed to give a definitive answer, there would be a few things that now allow me to agree with what my bracelet already confirmed:

1) I often dream about running.  While I was on Lexapro during my severe depression days, I was plagued by ridiculously insane, mind-warping, comical, demented, ”what exactly is in this stuff?” kind of dreams.  For example, one night, I dreamt the The Rifleman (an old black and white western tv show, for you babes out there) and I were dancing in a local mall. I asked him if I could use his rifle as a cane-like prop when I would change from ballet style to some sort of vaudevillian number we had rehearsed.   And we danced and danced.  Well, until a garden gnome asked us to stop.  I kid you not.

And there were countless other dreams just as bizarre.  

Well, at some point many of my dreams turned to running.  And those dreams were the only ones I had that weren’t utterly maniacal.  I remember running in races in these dreams, and it always felt so good and even relaxing.  In dreams where I wasn’t actually running, I would often dream about the desire to to run.  Isn’t it amazing that even my subconscious mind found respite in running before my conscious mind did?  To me, that speaks volumes. 

2) I don’t hate running anymore.  Sometimes, I actually even like it.  Last night, Coco and I ran just before sunset.  So, approximately from 7:45 til 8:30.  And it was 94 degrees outside.  Still!!  A few years ago, you couldn’t pay me to take a walk in that kind of heat.  And if you had told me then that I would actually enjoy running three miles in a Texas summer, I would have put down my cigarette and laughed at you.  Running any distance was impossible in my not-so-distant past.  So, it’s amazing that not only do I willingly choose to run in this heat, but that I can, and that it feels good.

3) If I haven’t run in a few days, I feel like something’s missing.

4) I have a purpose in running.  Often, that purpose changes, but the bottom line is that there is a reason to put Coco on her leash, tie on my shoes, and head out.  Many times, Coco is my purpose.  But that’s another post altogether. 

5) I own shoes that I wear only for running.  I don’t walk in them.  I don’t shop in them.  I don’t wear them around the house.  I only  run in them.  That seems like a milestone to me.

So, these are some of the reasons that I now consider myself a runner.  It doesn’t have anything to do with cool gear, brand name shoes, or what name brand sports bra I wear.  (Although I am a fan of some particular products, for sure.)  But those things don’t make me a runner.  I make me a runner.

I would love to hear from anyone out there who would like to share thoughts on what makes you a runner.  When did you know that you had become a runner?

My name is Karin.  And I’m a runner.

A Different Kind of Run

So…. I’m back from Canada.  And wouldn’t you know it – everyone who was at the wedding rehearsal got a special gift.  Food poisoning. 

Hell to the yeah!!

But wait, it gets better!  I was the token white girl in an Indian wedding.  And I was wearing a sari.  Go ahead and ask me how easy it is to utilize the facilities in one of those.

I have been sick since Saturday morning.  I haven’t run in over a week, but am going to attempt a cool and refreshing 95 degree evening run here in a few minutes.  

The thought alone makes me want to curl up on a cold tile floor.

Oh Canada!

Posting will resume when I return from bridesmaid duties in Toronto.  

Coco will need to run off all the doggie treats she will inevitably get stuffed with at my parents’. 

Running in the Heat With Your Dog

I am writing this post at 6:42 pm and it is currently 93 degrees outside.  Welcome to Texas!!  I’m a native – but I’ve gotta be honest with y’all, I’m not a big fan of the heat.  And to me, “hot” is really anything above 87 or so.  So, I have a feeling, we’re in for a loooong hot summer.

This is me and Coco’s first summer of “serious” running.  And I have already been very cautious about her health when we run together.  So, I thought I’d write down some tips for running with your dog, in the heat.

• Dogs can’t sweat and therefore, it is much more difficult for them to cool off.  Panting is how they regulate their body temperature when they get too hot.  But it’s not nearly as effective as how we humans do it.  Keep this mind.  If you’re hot – then your dog is probably really hot!!
• Try to run in the early morning and late evening hours.  Those are the coolest parts of the day.  And trust me people, I’m using “coolest” as a purely relative concept here.
• Test out the pavement.  If you’re running in direct sunlight, feel the pavement to see what you’re asking your buddy to run on.  If it hurts your hand or foot, it probably doesn’t feel that good on bare paws.  The padding provides some protection, but not much.
• WATER BREAKS!!  I try to get Coco to stop and drink at least once a mile.  But she never really wants to drink much until we’re completely done.  I really wish she’d drink more.  
• So, what I do is stop at the fountains and pour water all over her.  This does wonders in cooling her off.  I get her face, ears, neck, back, and belly good and wet.  I can tell it makes a huge difference because she always perks up a bit afterwards.  In my opinion, you can’t do this enough.  And if you don’t have fountains on your trail, take a bottle of water that you can cool your pup off with.
• Take walk breaks if you need.  Again, your dog won’t judge you for cooling off for a bit.  Even stop and sit together in the shade for a while.  When’s the last time you spent some quality time with a really good shade tree?
• If there’s a lake or pond that allows doggie swimming, encourage her to get in.  Coco LOVES this part of the run.  I let her get in once on the way there and once on the way back.  Yeah, it adds time to the run – but there’s not much I enjoy more than seeing her wade out in the water to cool off.  She really loves it.

Here are some signs of possible overheating (or even heat stroke!) to look for when you’re on your run:

• Excessive panting.  Tongue hanging way out.
• Disorientation.  As Coco and I run, I occasionally say her name to see if she’ll focus on me.  When we stop, I always make sure she looks “with it.”
• Very red or very white gums.
• Excessive drooling.
• Vomiting.
• Skin or ears that feel much hotter than normal.
• Watch to see if your dog is trying to stop or slow down.  Coco has pulled us both over to the shade a time or two.

The most important thing is to know your dog.  Then you’ll have a better chance of recognizing what’s normal and what’s a sign of trouble.  If something doesn’t look right, chances are, it isn’t. 

Also, Coco goes to the groomer once a month to keep her thick fur shaved down.  I imagine this helps to keep her a little cooler. Plus it reduces shedding and that’s a win/win situation, folks!

Dogs, like humans, need to condition to run certain distances, certain speeds, and at extreme temperatures.  If you’re used to running 7 miles in the 90 degree heat and your dog isn’t, work up to it.  

In my opinion, running in the heat is just a half step up from miserable.  But if you take it a bit slower, with your dog, it’s doable.  And hey – only four more months of this stuff!  Yech.

Let me know if you’ve got any tips or advice for running your dog in the heat.  I’d love to hear from you.

-karin

Running With Depression and a Dog

To summarize the last three entries:  

I was depressed and Coco had a few issues to work out as well.  I had been dabbling in running, but nothing “serious” (i.e. consistent.)  Even though I was up to running three miles at a time (a huge accomplishment for a newly reformed smoker!) and had completed a few 5ks, I really didn’t have a passion for the sport.  In fact, running was something I had to force myself to do. 

Up until this time, I had been running alone.  Group runs didn’t sound all that great to me, because I only ran a few slow miles at a time.  And that, alone, was not easy for me, so I didn’t want the added pressure of having to talk to or keep up with anyone. However, since Coco was doing so well on her walks, I decided to try running with her.  I didn’t have to talk to her, and she certainly wouldn’t be disappointed if we had to take a walk break or slow the pace down several times, right?  It made perfect sense.  Coco and I would start running together.  

Luckily, we had recently moved to our city’s lake area, which is undoubtedly THE hot spot for runners here.  I believe that being in such close proximity to the lake provided me with added incentive to become a more “serious” runner.    

Coco and I started running a two to three mile path through the neighborhood.  I wasn’t lucky enough to have a watch with mileage and pace counters yet, but I figure that we couldn’t have been running any faster than 12-minute-miles.  Because neither of us had been running regularly, it was best to start slowly.  My goal was to run three miles, five times a week, and both she and I needed to work up to that milestone.     

Even though Coco had been such a good walker, I was surprised at how good of a runner she was.  She stayed at my side, with a pace so consistent, people have complimented her on that alone.  Aside from the guaranteed poop break at approximately four minutes into each run, she was the perfect running companion.  And most importantly, I was starting to really enjoy running. Let me rephrase that… I enjoyed running with Coco.

The thing about depression is that it just sucks the life out of you.  When I was at my worst, I didn’t want to start anything.  And never starting anything means that you never finish anything.  And never finishing anything means you never accomplish anything.  Running gave me something to start.  To finish.  To accomplish.  And to me, that meant feeling human again. Running was not, is not, and will never be a cure-all for my depression.  Ask my husband, I still have horrendous struggles with it.  BUT (and this is a big but) it started to give me light in what had been a very dark existence.

Coco and I ran together, working up to our goal of three miles at a time, five times a week.  And we went at it slowly, increasing our mileage over a period of several weeks.  During this time, I began to rely, in a sense, on the steadiness of her pace, the rhythmic pattern of her panting, the way I held my left arm to hold her leash.  My heart soared when she would turn her head and look toward me as we would sometimes pick up the pace, as if to say “yeah, Karin – let’s do it!”  She supported me in her own quiet way, as we worked together through the various challenges of our human and canine existences.

We were becoming a team.  

-karin

How Coco The WonderDog Came Into My Life

I’ve got to tell you a little bit about Coco first.  After all, I am writing this blog because of her.  Seven years ago, I fostered dogs for the SPCA.  Basically, I would keep the dogs assigned to me, train then in the ways of being a good pet, help them overcome any traumas they may have endured, and then interview potential adopters, with the hopes of finding the right home. My ex-husband and I had four permanent dogs of our own, and a rotating fifth foster dog.  

After I-don’t-know-how-many fosters, Coco was the one dog I just had to keep.  Something about her was different.  But I think it boiled down to the fact that she made me laugh.  She just touched my heart.  So, we kept her.  On one condition.  NO MORE FOSTERS.  

The ex and I divorced in late 2006 and because I was a lowly Senate worker at the time, I couldn’t even afford my own apartment.  So I had to move in with my parents.  Yep, that’s always a self-esteem booster.  Because he had the house, the ex kept all five dogs, – and although you may be shaking your head right about now – let me tell you that these were five VERY well-behaved dogs.  And he loved them very much.  We agreed that for the time being at least, he would keep them and we would reassess later.  (Having an amicable divorce really helped here.)

Well, in February of 2008, he called me and informed me that sweet Coco was having behavioral problems and can you please TAKE HER NOW!!!  (I had remarried by this time.)  And of course, we did.  Coco had been an exceptional dog, except that lately, she had been aggressive with one of the other dogs.  My theory is that because my ex was hardly the disciplinarian, Coco’s dominant tendencies led her to try and rule the pack.   And like any wannabe revolutionary, she was attempting a coup d’etat to achieve her goal of supremacy in the midst of a power vacuum.  (I’m a poli sci major, please forgive the analogy.)

Don and I took her in and worked with her in order to become the proverbial pack leaders.  Before I started running with her, I “mastered the walk.”  All you Dog Whisperer fans out there know exactly what I’m referring to.  For those of you who don’t sacrifice your Friday evenings watching Cesar Milan, that means walking your dog with a purpose.  No pulling, excessive stopping, territory marking, or walking ahead of you.  Your dog stays at your side, slightly behind.  No jack-assery as we like to call it.  

We spent approximately two weeks walking with her like this – and I’m telling you, she became a better dog.  Being one of the “bull”breeds, she has a tendency to be stubborn, to put it nicely.  But walking like this with us helped her figure out her order in the pack.  And we could see how much she enjoyed this purposeful kind of walk.  Her ears would relax and her stride was proud and controlled.  There was no tension on the leash.  She didn’t go nuts every time we passed a squirrell.  This was really working!

**So, my initial advice for people who would like to start running with their dogs, – it would be that first and foremost, you need to master the walk.  It would be really hard for me to run with her if I had to expend energy on controlling her.  And if you have ever seen me run, you will quickly see that I need all the energy I can save.  Running with Coco is such a joy, largely because she stays right at my side, and I never worry about her taking off in one direction or another. **

Now, Coco is the epitome of a good pet.  She rides so well in the car, I’m always afraid I’ll forget she’s there.  She goes on vacations with us, and is such a tremendous part of our lives, that words often fail me.  But I NEVER treat her like she’s the baby I never had.  She’s a dog.  She wants to be a dog. She needs to be a dog.  My husband likes to say that “she is fulfilled as a dog.”  

(Even though we make her wear ridiculous hats, sometimes.)

One ear up, one ear bent.  Bowl-legged in the front and knock-kneed in the back.  Underbite.  Ridiculously bushy raccoon-like tail.  Brindle patterned fur.  Huge head.  Short, muscular legs.  She is um… unique… to put it nicely.  And not at all the kind of dog you expect to be a great runner.

She weighs approximately 34 pounds and she’s solid muscle.  WITHOUT FAIL, every time we run, people ask me “what kind of dog is that?” or even “what is that?”  I hear “cute puppy!” all the time.  And she does resemble a puppy, with her large head and paws.  However, she’s seven years old now and officially middle-aged.  

So that’s the scoop on the dog that stole my heart.  Now you know some about me and some about Coco.  

Next, I’ll tell you how running with her really did change my life.

-karin

Why I Started Running – Part 2

So, to pick up where I left off, in case anyone has been on the edge of their seats…  (I jest!!)

In October of 2007, my friend Donna called to see if I was interested in running a hugely popular Thanksgiving 5k with her.  She was trying to lose a few post-baby pounds, and I was game.  After all, I had been harboring my secret desire (see previous entry) to be a real runner and her asking me to train with her seemed the perfect excuse to get started.  So, we turned to the Couch to 5k program.  I’ll write more about my thoughts on that program in a future post, but trust me – had I not started that way, I would not be running today.  

I smoked my last cigarette and committed to running a 5k.  

Eight weeks later, Donna and I completed the race.  I ran a couple of races afterwards alone as well.  I was proud, to say the least – but this isn’t really where my running story starts. 

I had entered into a really severe depression somewhere during the earliest part of 2008.  The kind that makes it next to impossible to maintain relationships, keep a job, exercise, smile, eat, get out of bed, cook, or basically anything that constitutes living a human life.  I was just like one of those people in the black and white depression commercials.  I would spend hours just staring at nothing.  Or sleeping.  I stayed in bed more and more, afraid that people would see what I had become.  I cried uncontrollably, withdrew almost completely, and often feared that I had passed some sort of point of no return.  

Since my last 5k a few months prior, I hadn’t run much, other than a slow mile or two here, a run/walk there.  When I did find the energy to run more, I just wasn’t enjoying it at all.  But to be fair, there wasn’t much in life that I found any pleasure in during that year. It was tough and I wasn’t dealing with it well.  I hit my lowest point in September of 2008, just before me and Don’s first wedding anniversary.  I finally called my physician.  The next day, he diagnosed me with depression and generalized anxiety disorder and sent me away with two months of Lexapro anti-depressant samples in hand.

I’m really condensing here – but I stayed on Lexapro for just short of six months.  During that time, I experienced some signs of life, and it felt good to have parts of “the old Karin” back.  I was able to plug back in, in a limited sense – but realized that small steps were important.  It certainly wasn’t a cure-all, but Lexapro got me over the hump.  I’ve got several issues with the drug, but it did seem like I experienced some success on it.  (Getting off of it is another story entirely.)  

Throughout these months, I put our dog Coco on her leash and we started running together, in small amounts.  Two miles here, two miles there.  Again, better than nothing.  I even ran several 5ks.  It’s hard to explain, but like I said, I felt like I had been plugged back in enough to kind of kick start my life. It was easier to get out of bed, talk to people, and not constantly dwell on the worst case scenarios.  No more no less.  It didn’t turn my life into rainbows and butterflies.  Then again, I wasn’t expecting it to.  If it were able to that, I’m sure everyone would be on it.  And it would probably be illegal.

The came this, as if depression by itslef wasn’t daunting enough: in February of 2009, I noticed that my clothes were starting to fit tighter.  I got on the scale reluctantly, and sure enough, I had gained eight pounds!!  I’m a pretty thin person naturally, so eight pounds really makes a difference on me.  And it had come on quickly!  My diet hadn’t changed, and I was running somewhat regularly, so it’s not like my diet or lack of exercise could have been causing such a rapid weight gain.  I consulted with Google and read that many people experience this side effect several months into taking Lexapro.  I started reading about more and more side effects.  Weight gain, possible sexual side effects, etc.  I decided “eh, I’d rather not be on this anymore.”

I don’t know why my urge to get off the drug was so immediate and so strong, but I felt like it had given me enough momentum to try life without it.  So, I immediately called my doctor.  I wanted off.

My first conversation was with Dr. L’s nurse.  I told her about my weight gain and her exact words were, “yeah, I get a lot of calls about that.”  I left a message to speak with the doctor so that he could tell me the proper way to wean myself off.  He in turn left a lengthy voice mail telling me that 1) weight gain or change in metabolism is not a known Lexapro side effect, 2) perhaps I was just eating more because happy people eat more,  and 3) he would be more than happy to prescribe another anti-depressant for me – one that wouldn’t have an effect on my weight.  Now, I’m no genius – but doesn’t point #3 directly contrast points 1 and 2??

So again, I consulted with Dr. Google and decided to wean myself of the drug by a series of reductions.  10 milligrams to 7.5 to 5 to 2.5 and then to nothing.  (Over a series of three weeks or so.)  The withdrawal process was horrible!  I felt like I had a serious flu for several weeks.  My body hurt.  I had zero energy.  But I stayed with it (or without it, I should say) and made it back to life. During this time, I didn’t run at all.  Not once.  I got seriously reacquainted with our couch and Coco and I took plenty of naps together.  I know I haven’t written much about this mutt yet – but she was instrumental in my healing process.  She makes me believe in furry angels.  

At some point, I turned THE CORNER.  My husband Don, who is a software engineer, likes to use the term “data points.”  So, to humor him… there were a few key data points that signaled my road to recovery.  

Data Point 1:  I started laughing again.  Not just smiling to put others at ease.  Not just a giggle at a joke that’s not really funny. I really laughed.  It felt so good that just thinking about it right now seems to life something within me.  Don said it was amazing to see me smile again.  

Data Point 2:  I started working on lots of home projects.  It’s something else I love to do.  I landscaped, painted, refinished furniture, and re-stained our kitchen countertops.  

Data Point 3:  I was ready to run.  Coco was too.

- karin

How Running With A Dog Changed My Life

My site is about running with a dog, running and depression, how I became a runner, tips on running with dogs, general running discussion and life stories.