IIAGDTR

My Meniscectomy

2012-02-12T10:47:00.011-05:00

Jennifer and I made the drive to the Roper Hospital Ambulatory Surgery & Pain Management on James Island on Tuesday for my outpatient arthroscopic meniscectomy ("knee scope") surgery. This is one surgery that was never on my radar in the past. Even though I played sports in my youth, I never had a knee injury. Well...that's not quite true, I wrecked my cousin's 50cc Honda and that required stitches in my right knee, but there was no structural damage as far as I know.

I had no anxiety for this procedure. None. This is not to say I was not aware that things can and do go wrong in the OR, many if not most times through no one's fault. The human body is an anatomical miracle and no two are alike. It is an endless variation on a lyrical masterpiece beyond belief, astounding in every aspect. It troubles me some believe it can enter the surgical arena without risk.

Having had two major surgeries on my lower right leg at Roper St. Francis, I did know the level of care I would receive: none better. There many fine healthcare facilities across the nation, and we are fortunate to such a highly rated one here. In any large organization, sometimes there is a loss of identity with not only the client but the employees. With Roper, from top to bottom, I have a sense of humanity, harmony, purpose, and of something missing in far too many: integrity.

This does not come by accident.

*******

I signed in and Jennifer was given a tracking number that would allow her to see my progress monitor in the very comfortable and appealing reception/waiting area. Turns out the operation was so short she hardly needed to check my status.

Homeward bound

I was taken to pre-op where the nurses prepared me for surgery. IV in the back of the hand, shaved my left knee, and generally making me feel at ease with friendly conversation. Dr. Graham came in and discussed the procedure, then the anesthesiologist explained his role and started the process to ease me into unconsciousness. I recall going into the OR, I think I was able to carry on a coherent conversation until I was put under.

I awoke in the same pre-op room and was quickly alert. No pain in the knee; I had an elastic bandage from mid-thigh down and around my ankle. Very impressive, especially with my prosthesis on the other side. We were given instructions for home care and then I was wheeled out to the Pilot and Jennifer hauled me home. Far less discomfort than grocery shopping. :)

*******

I took the next day off from work, mainly to make sure I could keep my knee elevated and ice to reduce swelling. My pain level was very low, I only felt a little more discomfort from the incision areas when I moved certain ways. If I had no meds I would have been fine, and by the following evening I stopped taking them altogether.

Getting ready for first dressing change

For the two days following surgery I used crutches and went back to work on Thursday. In a perfect world I would have taken three days off, not that I was in pain, but I think it would help me heal faster. Being in IT with several important projects in the works, I felt I needed to be there and was able to ice nearly as often as I could at home.

By Friday I was down to one crutch, then transitioned to none over the course of the day. I worked some Saturday morning, and while walking I tried to concentrate on a shorter but more natural gait, trying not to limp but not forcing the issue either. I was surprise how well I could walk and knew once the swelling went down it would get better yet. On Saturday evening my kneecap has emerged from the swollen depths and is starting to look like its old self.

Now Sunday, swelling is only noticeable above and below the kneecap and looks nearly normal. With my first few steps I could tell a definite improvement and I hope the recovery will continue at this pace.

Jennifer is taking great care of me (again!) and will have to drive me to work until I gain a little more flexibility in the knee. I hope I can relieve her of this chore later next week. Thanks #1.

*******

I've read all sorts of messages on the internet from runners who have had this surgery. Several things will go into the success of this operation. I must mention meniscus tears are far more prevalent than I knew; many people have them through either injury or aging. If you are not active you may be asymptomatic to the injury, or it may hurt and go away after a few days.

The two incisions and swollen knee

My tear had folded on itself, so that was removed. Dr. Graham gave me a sheet of photos of the procedure, but I am not able to tell for certain what I am seeing. At my follow-up I will get the details as to where and how much was removed. I believe it was a small area that was shaved out, but after my surgery, even though I was alert, my memory of the conversation is spotty.

Crazy legs at work on Saturday in Charleston Marathon shoes

Anyhow, given I had an excellent surgeon, my tear
was small, and I was in good shape prior to the injury, my outlook is good. One younger man was able to return to running two weeks after his surgery; others took months. Some ran as much as they did before the injury, others had difficulty and some gave it up. I imagine many could have been helped with offloading bracing; there really are some excellent orthoses like Ossur's for the knee or Allard's for the foot/ankle. The later would be so wonderful for people with ankle sprains, a widely misunderstood injury by athletes, coaches, and some professionals. A great article on this subject is here.

*******

Sunday!

So where does this leave me on the road to Boston? My recovery is going well, as good or better than I expected. If I can start running by next weekend without worrying about hurting myself, then I would definitely make it. Another week would put me in the maybe gray area. A month off...I would be looking at only surviving the distance. March 16 is the drop-dead date to cancel our Boston hotel reservation.

For now...more couch sitting, icing, and dreaming.

*******

In the spirit of the "Little Miracles" post, I made my followup call for my surgery, and while on hold I realized I had worn my Field of Dreams shirt (bought at the farm where it was filmed) to surgery...I had changed it because the 1997 Chicago marathon shirt I had put on had holes in it.

My surgeon's name was Graham.

Decision

2012-02-06T22:15:00.002-05:00

Saturday, just before noon, after considering my options, I decided to have the meniscus tear fixed. The operation itself is commonly performed and the success rate is high. My decision had been complicated by my desire, my dream, to run the Boston Marathon on April 16. I had wanted to train and run this race at a level I knew I was capable of. This is not to be.

Now, precisely like the Charleston Marathon, complications have undermined my goal. At best I will have 6 weeks to prepare for Boston. My fitness should return faster than before, but given the time I have already lost plus at least 2 weeks of no running will be my starting point. I could run close to optimal if I had 10 - 12 weeks; since this is not possible I will have to do my best with the time I have. Another life lesson?

Dr. Ohlson told me to text him when I made my decision, even though he was on vacation. Knowing what this race means to me, he had already made the arrangements that immediately put the wheels in motion to schedule my procedure. The surgery will be performed by Dr. John Graham, Jr., who Dr. Ohlson gave what I think is the highest recommendation: that he would not hesitate for Dr. Graham to operate on a member his own family.

I believe I may have briefly met Dr. Graham back when I first starting walking on my prosthesis. I am confident I am in good hands and very happy I can get this procedure without delay.

I go into the care of the fine professionals of the Roper St. Francis hospital system with no anxiety whatsoever. The woman who took my information today knew I was trying to run Boston and was so supportive saying 'we will get you there.' Again I am reminded that when I arrive on the starting line in Hopkinton, it is through the efforts of a small army of healthcare professionals, the best people on planet Earth.

Tomorrow is a new day, a new start, another gift.

Run to it.

Tear It Up

2012-02-03T21:05:00.002-05:00

The MRI verdict is in: I have a small meniscus tear in my left knee on my intact side

I was at lunch on Wednesday with some business associates when I heard from Dr. Ohlson. The signal was dropped inside the building so I stepped outside and returned the call. Dr. Ohlson said I definitely had a tear - not what I wanted to hear but fully expected - and we discussed the options.

Should surgery be required, I would have a knee arthroscopy. Although Dr. Ohlson could do this procedure, he is a foot and ankle specialist and another surgeon in his practice would perform this operation. I believe this would be on an out-patient basis and it would take about 4 weeks to recover.

Given the tear is small and the pain has lessened since I first noticed it, I can start running again and see if I can tolerate the discomfort. Should it get more painful, I will not take a chance on making it far worse and immediately go in for the surgery.

Normally when coming back from an injury I take it slow until I am certain I am healed, "listening to the body" for any indication to back off. This situation is different. The Boston Marathon, my goal race, is April 16. If I have surgery then the sooner the better, although at this point there would be no way I could run the time I had hoped to.

If I can return to running without too much discomfort and train at a high level, I should be able to have a good race. At this point losing most of last month and having to train just to get back to that point will take at least 3 weeks. This leaves a couple of weeks to sharpen and then have a short taper.

Few marathon plans for us working mortals go according to schedule. Outside of injuries, things crop up like work deadlines or family needs or cutting a run short because of the weather. Injuries lasting a month, however, simply will not allow the typical marathoner to run their potential. You may be able to finish, as I did at the Charleston Marathon, but the race will be slow.

For me, I have come to terms that I cannot run to my potential at Boston. My training before Christmas near perfect and I had confidence I was heading toward arriving on the starting line ready to rock. Now, like Charleston, my conditioning may be closer to minimal than optimal.

My readers know what this race means to me. It would be impossible to be disappointed running one of the greatest footraces on the planet. I think to do your best would be the aim of most runners at this legendary event, and I wanted it to be all I had, no limits. It may still take all I have to run it, but not race it.

There is always next year. This would require me to run another qualifying marathon fairly soon under the BAA rules, something I will abide with even though MI athletes are given a little flexibility here. I do not expect, want, or will accept that leeway as I honor the tradition of this race.

*******

While driving to work this morning, many of these thoughts and more were on my mind. In a moment of enlightenment, I came to understand why I, on some level, expected this injury to end this dream of running Boston. It is this: I had given up on ever being able to run this race as an able bodied runner.

I had never given up on running. But Boston? It was as far as the moon. In 1608. But here, in 2012, I was registered to run this almost mystical race. And here, in 2012, my left meniscus has torn and spoken: maybe not.

As I was thinking on these things, my eyes grew hot of thinking how it would be to stand on that starting line, with my good friends Kelly, Shariff, Scott, and Mike about to take the first step forward into this dream. How is it possible I could be here? It is beyond belief; it is something beyond anything I could imagine.

I looked into the sun, and to the right, between some clouds, I saw it.

A small slice of a rainbow appeared, heaven's chevron.

Yet another small miracle.

In this life.

Little Miracles

2012-01-26T22:10:00.001-05:00

This is a post I have been meaning to write for a long time. I can't say exactly when I noticed the first small miracle, or I did notice but didn't really see it. It doesn't really matter, because now I know. There are miracles, real miracles, in our lives. Not some hocus-pocus magic acts, not a sleight of hand trick, but events so incredible as to be overlooked...as nothing at all.

You can see them every day. In fact, by not looking your will often recall them after they have passed, even though at the time you thought...isn't this...special.

There are larger ones. I often see losing my foot to be able to run again as something that fits this size. But there are smaller ones, many I have seen, and wonder how many I may have missed.

One happened to me at the track after an early morning workout. As I finished up and began my walk down lane 8 to my vehicle, I noticed small birds on the chain link fence. Not just sitting there, but as I walked they flitted and moved down the fence, following me. There was a connection, a bridge, these little birds following me. I now have birdseed in my backpack, so next time they can have breakfast.

For the past couple of years I have been noticing something unusual. When life took a downturn as it invariably does, when circumstances beyond our reach to change things conspire to deter our best efforts, I knew I could expect something good to happen. Something that would restore my faith. Something that made me think...out of this chaos there is a design. All is chance and nothing is. And if you look and listen, you will be told.

*******

With my recent injury, two things happened that make me decide to write this post.

Readers of my blog know what running means to me. Running was me as a child, I never made a distinction where one started and the other ended. Even now, I can be driving to work, and look at the side of the road, I see myself running. To me running is the affirmation of life, the physical self in flight, pure abstract freedom.

Running is me, I am running.

So now that this knee injury threatens to end my dream of running the Boston Marathon, I'm sure you can understand why I would be distraught. In fact, through my entire amputation journey, I don't think the blues hit me as hard as now. Every day I think of this race, of how it will be to stand on that starting line, how as a runner there can be no higher calling. And how it could end, perhaps because of a miniscule tear in the meniscus. Without a foot I can run, but with a torn meniscus running becomes a thing of pain again, and the joy goes up in a vapor trail.

So I've been feeling down, feeling my fitness slip away, watching much needed training days pass without one step forward. I am very much in a state of purgatory, not knowing what my future will be. I recognized the feeling of descent, growing quiet. Time to listen.

And then last night, as I was preparing for sleep, I received an email. Someone thanked me for this blog, for helping them understand what a loved one was going through. The closing was this: God bless you.

Well.

Then today I told friends I was having my MRI tomorrow, and through the messages Carol Kurpiel, adoptive (in definition only) mother of Ashley wished me well. She made me think of how minor my issue was, how any such pain made daughter Ashley panic and wonder if it would mean a complete end to part of her mobility.

Then the second little miracle happened.

One of my Twitter friends, Lori Jomsky, made a generous donation to the IFOPA on my FirstGiving site. This completely overwhelmed my emotions. I had been wondering if I would even be able to make it to the starting line of the Boston Marathon, and here someone without any current posts on my part asking for help, made a donation. It was more than a donation.

It was a small miracle.

*******

These things happen to me most every day. I do not always see them at the time, but I know if I listen, if I look closely, if I remember, I will see them.

You can see them too, these small miracles. They are real, they are not magic.

They are life, and a part of all of us. We can each make them happen, and we can all experience the little miracles that make up every day.

You can make one happen.

Here.

The Mortal Part

2012-01-25T12:13:00.009-05:00

Just back from round one at the doc.

Dr. Ohlson is very dedicated to getting me to the staring line at Hopkinton on April 16 and I feel good about that; if it can be done he will do it. The x-rays showed some expected degeneration due to my age but nothing substantial from what he told me. My problem is in the joint line and he explained how the meniscus can be asymptomatic; you can be doing damage and not aware of it. Only the outer part of the meniscus receives enough blood to make speedier repairs, inner problems have no blood supply and represent a greater healing challenge.

Next step is to get an MRI to get a clear picture of the injury site. If little or no damage then a possible cortisone shot and PT would help get me back on track. This would be the best outcome and the one I am hoping for. If I have a tear, well, that could be bad. Very bad.

So...as of this morning still don't know what exactly is going on. I had a 'moment' when I got back to the office that I have felt building since I found myself injured. I think I am mainly a positive person, but having come so far to maybe not making it to the starting line was much on my mind. I intend to hobble the distance with a crutch if I can't run IF it wouldn't damage the knee further. It's going to take more than a lost foot - or sore knee - to stop me.

However, I am not going to ruin my knee if continuing to run now would make things worse than otherwise rest and possible surgery could fix. There is next year. I did qualify to run the Boston Marathon, my name is on the entrant's list and that cannot be taken away from me. Ever.

I have gone from wheelchair to running a marathon, and as a human being, I am as unstoppable as mortal man can be. I will only quit when life calls the game, until then, just get me in the game coach.

We won't regret it. Ever.

The Immortal Part

When I meet the morning beam,
Or lay me down at night to dream,
I hear my bones within me say,
"Another night, another day."

"When shall this slough of sense be cast,
This dust of thoughts be laid at last,
The man of flesh and soul be slain
And the man of bone remain?"

"This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout,
These thews that hustle us about,
This brain that fills the skull with schemes,
And its humming hive of dreams,—"

"These to-day are proud in power
And lord it in their little hour:
The immortal bones obey control
Of dying flesh and dying soul."

"'Tis long till eve and morn are gone:
Slow the endless night comes on,
And late to fulness grows the birth
That shall last as long as earth."

"Wanderers eastward, wanderers west,
Know you why you cannot rest?
'Tis that every mother's son
Travails with a skeleton."

"Lie down in the bed of dust;
Bear the fruit that bear you must;
Bring the eternal seed to light,
And morn is all the same as night."

"Rest you so from trouble sore,
Fear the heat o' the sun no more,
Nor the snowing winter wild,
Now you labour not with child."

"Empty vessel, garment cast,
We that wore you long shall last.
—Another night, another day."
So my bones within me say.

Therefore they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along,

Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone
The stedfast and enduring bone.

- A. E. Housman

A Visit to the Chop Doc

2012-01-23T20:50:00.001-05:00

I am going to see Dr. Ohlson on Wednesday to get his professional assessment of my knee. It was more sore today, likely because I ran 10 miles yesterday with 5 miles at MP (marathon pace). It wasn't bad until I did a couple of strengthening routines this morning when/wince it because more sore. Still, thankfully, no sharp pain, just a steady uncomfortable ache.

As I left the office for lunch I felt discomfort nearly as bad as it was last week. I knew the Sunday run and exercises today could increase the soreness if only transitory - but I thought it was the smart thing to do to get a diagnosis as to exactly what I am facing. I recalled Joan Benoit's plica knee surgery, and 17 days later she won the marathon trials back in 1984. In another 3 months she would win the first Olympic women's marathon; I clearly remembered seeing the diminutive but extraordinary young runner on tv who captured a nation's heart.

My injury site is different from Joan's. What I am looking for is NOT to hear I have a tear; I am hoping my many years of running has made me strong enough to avoid this nasty problem. On Wednesday I will find out. If I can overcome this hump I will not run downhills until I am healed, and then only marginally until the race.

I've learned my lesson and hope I don't have to pay for it much longer.

Owie Update

2012-01-22T12:03:00.003-05:00

It has been almost two weeks since my knee tossed out a pain warning flag that something was amiss. I still believe the pain in the medial meniscus is from too much downhill running on my treadmill. Boston is a net downhill course and having run downhills on a similar course many years ago, I know not being prepared will result in a very bad race. We live on the coast of South Carolina in what is known as the "Lowcountry." It is basically flat here; very little elevation change and the only hills are bridges.

I had not been running hard on these net downhill runs, but I did note the extra stress on my knees. In itself, not a bad thing, it was exactly the training effect I was seeking. My stupidity lay in doing this on most of my treadmill runs. Many people HATE running on the treadmill, I find it a great training tool if not partner, always there and ready to go. If the weather is bad or I want to save time, more of the latter I admit, I can quickly toss on some shorts and be ready to run quicker than preparing for the elements outside. I can watch the Olympic trials on tv or run the virtual Boston course I made right there on my iFit equipped NordicTrack Elite 9500 Pro treadmill.

Boston Marathon Landmark: The End is Near!

(Note: I am not sponsored nor receive any compensation from any products or services I mention in my blog. As an athlete I am always interested in what others find works for them without ulterior motives. I.e., if an amputee athlete is employed by a prosthetist this needs to be made clear when interacting with the public or potential patients.)

*******

I have been running once or twice a day with this injury, at most 6 miles so far. The main thing is not to lose too much fitness while allowing it to heal. Had it seemed at all worse, I would not hesitate to see my doctor, however, that does not seem to be the case. I feel it is improving and I am very actively working on strengthening, icing with light compression, anti-inflammatories, massage, and using the many Biofreeze samples we've gotten in our race packets. I'm also taking glucosamine, bromelain, and reparagen in an attempt to help the healing process along.

Yesterday morning I could hardly tell I had an injury, but a few hours later the slight tenderness returned. I knew it was way too early to call a victory, indeed, I expect to have some discomfort for some weeks. Certainly enough sense, I hope, not to push the pace until I feel I am close to being healed without setting myself back.

Runners are often told to "listen to your body." This takes time and experience and almost always a runner will push too soon by at least a factor of 2. I am always amazed at how runners will "test" an injury, only setting recovery back longer or making things worse...and then complaining that they can't run at all. I am saying this as much to remind myself as to warn others.

*******

I have missed 3 key workouts so far and know I will miss some more. The upcoming week was to be one of maximum mileage and the following weekend was going to be a run and bike ride with my brother Mark. I had been looking forward to this workout more than any others, but going 21 miles over several bridges would not be wise. My thinking is to take the rest of January easy, work on getting my knee strong so I can confidently run, and then have February and March to put in the work needed to run well at Boston. Getting to the starting line healthy sure beats not getting there at all no matter what the fitness level.

If I do not feel I am progressing later this week, I plan to see an orthopedist to determine exactly what is going on in my knee. The hope is this is not a meniscus tear that might require a surgery, only continued rehabilitation.

Yes, the thought has crossed my mind....what if. At this point I do not think there is any real need to consider that possibility, only to remember what I have done to get this far and to recall what adversities I faced to complete my first marathon. I will do my best to get to Hopkinton in a high level of fitness and ready to give my all.

That is my plan. If fate has some other ideas, then I have learned to accept it. I do know this: I will not fail in the doing. I have the will to get there. I will do what I need to do to

keep.

moving.

forward.

Jato is (Almost) Famous

2012-01-12T20:13:00.001-05:00

My amazing running prosthesis from ProCare with a technologically advanced electric elevated vacuum system was recently featured in an Ohio WillowWood post here. As older readers of this blog may know, I named my running leg "Jato."

I wear the Ohio WillowWood LimbLogic VS elevated vacuum suspension on my walking prosthesis too. I had tried a mechanical vacuum system, but due to the length of my residual limb I could not have a very good prosthetic foot beneath it. With the much smaller and lighter LimbLogic VS pump, I was able to get brand new Freedom Innovations Renegade AT foot you can see here. Both are incredible!

So why do people choose one type of pump over another? That's a post for another day, but I think it is something of a personal preference and the particular circumstance(s) like mine. Electric pumps do make a low-level noise when they operate for a few seconds to maintain vacuum, and in some places that is unacceptable. I have found once I tell anyone around me who asks aloud "what is that noise?" that they tend to place the sound as part of the ambient noise that surrounds us every day. For the most part, when I am running, I never hear the pump operate.

The fact is elevated vacuum puts the residual limb in a healthier environment. For me, it feels more natural, and for my running, it provides unique benefits that plague other suspensions. As I am writing this I know I need to write in more detail, so I am going to save it for a post about my three prostheses soon.

The thought just occurred to me that I haven't named my everyday prosthesis yet. Hmmm...suggestions?

A Running Injury: Can I Get A Whoohoo?

2012-01-11T12:12:00.001-05:00

After my Sunday 15 miler with some MP (marathon pace) running, my 'good leg' left knee cranked up a pain alarm. It became quite sore on the medial side, not super sharp but enough to cause me to limp that evening. By Monday it I was concerned enough that I called a local PT for an appointment, thinking I really need to know what was going on quickly so I could get after a recovery that meant business.

Gerber daisy blooming - Dec. 21, 2011

I had run a lot of miles prior to Christmas, and over the holidays I cut my mileage way back and did no speedwork. The idea was to allow the body to recover from the hard training, and I thought I had been successful. Pain, however, is a teacher who's class cannot be cut...at least not without severe consequences.

As I thought about what might be going on, I realized I had been on a steady diet of training on the new treadmill, and that meant running on the virtual Boston Marathon course of many downhills and a few stiff uphills including the infamous "Heartbreak Hill." Considering how I felt running the declines I am somewhat convinced this caused my injury, and from online pics it seemed likely either the medial meniscus or the tibial collateral ligament were among the most suspected 'usual suspects.' I have had many running injuries over my career, but this is a new one.

Sometime during this process the thought struck me: I have a running injury. It wasn't that long ago I couldn't run at all, and now I have a running injury! I felt myself smiling...ah irony, you old crowbar to the knee you.

So I am off to the see the PT wizards and discover what the exact problem is, as well as see what they think about my running a half marathon this weekend. My prize is Boston, and my sight is singularly focused on it. If I have to take some time off now you bet I will...

*******

Good news, I should be back on track soon. The discomfort was localized in the meniscus area, but range of motion was good and nothing causes sharp pains or made it any worse. So anti-inflammatories, icing, massage, and some strengthening should do it and I'm hoping the pain will subside by the weekend to allow me to run the half.

I saw John Mart at Imagine Physical Therapy in Mount Pleasant SC, not far from where I run on the town track. Very thorough, I got some immediate relief, and he understood my needs as a runner. A PT who runs will almost always have an edge over one who does not run or understand our mindset. It is what we have to do, not what we need to do that drives us forward, compels us to go beyond.

Since I had hoped to run well at this race I hope I can make it to the starting line without being held back nursing this injury. If I don't run it I will likely do a half at Folly Beach next month. The goal race is Boston, and if I don't run a single race before then it's okay by moi. Detours will confront us, but running off the road onto the rocks miles below is not effective training.

*******

Winter in the South

Sometimes to move forward you have to take a breather.

Do I smell roses?

No, it's a camellia blooming just before Christmas....

Running Into 2012

2012-01-08T10:38:00.001-05:00

My Boston training is now in the second block of workouts. So far I am very pleased with my progress, with few stinker runs, one of which was last Friday, and I have made headway against some of the things that conspire to derail my workouts. None of my previous marathons were completed without my slowing considerably in the final miles. The one race where I felt this would not happen due to my high mileage base an asthma attack felled me, the first big one I had had since I was a child.

21st Century Technology - Running the Boston Marathon course on my NordicTrack Treadmill

With my history, there is no way I have supreme confidence Boston will not administer an austere test on April 16. I have learned many lessons, not the least of which marathon day, like life, will likely not be the one you planned for or expected. So you plan and train and leave it to destiny, fate, or luck as to what the result will be. What you cannot expect is for this holy trinity to assist you in any way, shape, or form if you have not sold your soul to the training. Without that, you are not going to get there from here.

My training is based on a Jack Daniel's plan, the one that produced my able-bodied PR way back in 1997. On that day I ran well until I experienced some cramping that ended my dream of qualifying for Boston.

How life's colors shimmer and change.

*******

Next weekend I am running the half marathon at the Charleston Marathon. Jennifer has had bronchitis and will likely run the 5k if she has recovered. Good friends Kelly and Brian Luckett will be here running the marathon. Long-time friend Joan D'Alonzo - all the way back to the Runner's World Compuserve forum - will be coming from her new home in West Virginia.

I'm sure a flood of memories will overtake me at this race. My marathon there last year took pitted me against many adversities; one after another and another. In looking back I could say I was tested...yes, something could have happened that would have stopped me in my tracks, but it did not. As long as I kept moving forward, no matter what the obstacle, I had to prove I would do it. And I did. Despite running - by far - my slowest marathon ever, I finished.

When elitist athletes poo-poo the times of slower runners, I can attest in many cases, yes, they are slower, yet they display a toughness, grit, and determination many faster runners will never know. We are all runners, fast and slow, whole and broken. Out of many, one.

When I finished the Charleston Marathon I found I had qualified as a mobility impaired athlete for Boston. Even though I am training every day and often twice a day for this most historic race, part of me still cannot believe what I am going to do. I am going to be on the starting line for the 116th Boston Marathon. I am going to be there with some incredible athletes and friends, and truly, it will be a day like no other. I've had many days like that now, something I have been able see since landing on the other side of the fence.

From there to here

So yeah, I expect it to be an emotional, nostalgic day but I think it will be a celebration of what has been accomplished. Not just what I have done, but what so many people have done that allowed this miracle to happen. My surgeon, Dr. Blake Ohlson, and his team. The genuine, caring people at Roper St. Francis Hospital. Larry Wiley, my first prosthetist. My current CP Stephen Schulte and his forward-thinking team at ProCare. And last but first in my heart, my sweetness and light and wife, Jennifer. There are many others who do not know me at all yet prayed for and wished me well...the suppport goes into my heart and will carry me as I keep. moving. forward.

The truth is we all must do the best we can, and depend on others to do the same. When any choose not to do this, we all suffer; when all choose to do all they can, then truly there is little we cannot overcome. Whining begets whining, and only whiners can tolerate that for very long because it validates their misery. This goes nowhere but down.

We call that place hell.

*******

Given my training schedule, I have not been able to blog as much as I'd like. Up at 4 or 5 am most weekday mornings to get in a workout before a 9 hour workday, then another workout that starts at 7:30 pm if I'm lucky, leaves little time for anything else other than showers, eating (on the run), and sleep. I am continuing my fund raising honoring our friend Ashley Kurpiel benefiting the IFOPA here.

Often I feel I am not doing enough for this cause, that we are so close to bringing a drug to market that all we need is a benefactor who can end this disease for the Ashleys and Joshuas forever. Forever. Instead of a Bill Gates or Warren Buffett or this or that politician building monuments to themselves, they could do something eternal. They could help bring the end to FOP's destruction of bodies in our lifetime. I can say I very likely would have never known Ashley without my amputation, and on that level I have some understanding why others do not feel my passion for ending this disease.

So it us up to us to do great things. I believe we can do it. I believe we will do it. From running a marathon to helping others to do the same; from doing what we can to inspiring others to doing more than they could imagine.

I ask that you help us, all of us, here. And for that, I promise to give my all, here. April 16, 2012, the Boston Marathon.

Together we will make the miracle routine; we will make the amazing seen every day.

Christmas 2011

2011-12-25T10:38:00.001-05:00

Life does not owe you anything.

Life has given you everything.

It is not about you. It is all about you.

Look, listen, and chose wisely.

It is the gift.

Life.

Two Hundred Twenty Six

2011-12-14T12:35:00.006-05:00

There have been many goals I have achieved - and a few not yet realized - on this path from what I was to what I am. Some, like running my first race and later my marathon, were large goals reached, while others, like being able to walk a quarter mile without crutches, were important first steps that had to be met before others were taken.

I try to be cognizant of all my goals, small and large, because each builds on the other. Last week while updating my run log, I realized I had reached a huge milestone that took me by surprise. In my able-bodied days I always considered a 200 mile month to be the mileage needed to run with some success, more or less depending on what I was training for. So when I reached this amputee goal, I was very proud of what I had done:

I had run 226 miles over a 4 week period.

This is about the distance from the Isle of Palms to Greenville, SC

This took a while to sink in...I had run 60, 45, 65, and 56 miles and shockingly, not missed a single day due to injury. Before going to Procare, I rarely went 2 weeks without some injury causing me significant downtime, from a swelling fibula head to the opening of my incision line.

This is not to say I will always be injury free as an amputee. Just as a person with all limbs intact, things happen. Achilles tendons get sore, hamstrings become unhappy, and shins decide to slow you down. As an amputee runner, the issue is generally compromised skin, leg skin (or some scar tissue) that was not intended to be used for bearing weight like a foot.

This means fit has to be as anatomically perfect as possible, which currently is nearly impossible since the limb is always changing shape. Here is where my prosthetist's experience is solid gold, in using elevated vacuum to help mitigate these changes along with a prosthesis that does not adhere to yesterday's thinking.

My marathon schedule, though aggressive, was designed to be long enough at 22 weeks to accommodate some downtime for the unforeseen injuries or life events. As it stands, I am ecstatic that am I training without my prosthesis limiting me in any significant way...only my age can do that now, and we duke it out every day.

As I write this I am working toward a 67 mile week capped by a 20 mile long run. Then it's some recovery time over the Christmas holidays, where the carbo-loading effort will be easily met. Shortly afterward in January, I hope to give a good half marathon effort at the Charleston Marathon where I should be able to better gauge what I can do at Boston.

Boston seems as if it is around the corner instead of nearly 4 months away. That is a good thing to me, there is no chance any thought will cross my mind that I can take a breather except for those I've planned. My schedule is proving to be tough but doable, and as long as I stay in one piece - which is only slightly ironic - I should arrive on that Boston starting line as fit as I have been in many years.

“To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.”

Not going to happen, brother. It may be slow, but it will be my all.

Hey 19

2011-12-05T22:12:00.001-05:00

Sunday was my longest run of the year since the Charleston Marathon way back in January. I have been training hard, knowing at some point the long runs would get easier as my fitness improved. Indeed this did happen but in an interesting fashion.

After running nine miles on our soon-to-be-replaced treadmill, I gathered my outside running gear to prepare for the next 10 on the road. At the last minute I decided to take my small bottle of mineral oil, thinking if I need to make any adjustments far from home I might need it. Usually I don't but today would be different.

I was running comfortably though not quite as easily I use to on my long runs as an able-bodied runner. Out of our subdivision and over to Park West, down streets and onto a sidewalk and finally to an asphalt trail that is easier on the legs and safer than sharing the roads with vehicles.

At about mile 12 I felt some slight burning behind my knee that usually indicates the liner is pinching my skin. Sometimes this just goes away but occasionally it can take enough skin off in a narrow strip that will bleed and be very...annoying. When I hit mile 13 I decided I better take a look and see what was going on since the burning seemed to be getting worse.

I should mention, as a runner, we are use to pushing through discomfort. We can feel blisters forming and sometimes simply have to run through the pain. With a prosthesis this sort of bullheadedness may cause an injury that can cause down times from days to a week or more, as I've previously blogged about.

Off with the prosthesis and pulling down my liner, I see an angry spot about half an inch long with a layer of skin peeled away. Oh great. Time to make a decision.

I think about calling Jennifer to come get me, so I can immediately address the abrasion and set it to healing. However, it is not that big nor bleeding...but I know sometimes these things are worse than they first appear. Then I think...I really need this long run today, I have a marathon pace (MP) run next weekend and my plan builds workouts for other workouts. I couldn't squeeze in a long run later and be able to run the MP next weekend.

Since I don't think I am bleeding and the skin issue is relatively small, I squirt and rub in a liberal amount of mineral oil on the affected area, pull my prosthesis on, and set off.

I don't feel anymore burning but I do feel something else. Something I have not felt in a long, long time. Years in fact. I am running strong, faster with the less effort, and I feel damn good. I slow a little knowing I still have 6 miles to go and realize this may simply be a short lived post-rest boost...but the runner within is smiling.

Hitting my turnaround at 5 miles to go, I find myself in that runner's rhythm that makes us feel a little less mortal. Each footstep seems to be perfectly placed, the effort is there but embraced as easy as breathing; the runner within wants to go faster, further, and never ever stop. And for those who say you never see someone running and smiling, today was your lucky day.

At mile 17 I pull over to oil the machine, then I'm off again. Despite feeling some fatigue now, my pace is quickening, I am running strong and remembering so many other runs in my past. I am totally in the zone and one happy man.

I take one short break at mile 18, inhale a gel, and see a half moon low in the blue afternoon sky. The old man is watching. Watch this.

This horse is heading to the barn, picking up the pace, wondering if maybe, just maybe he should do one more mile. Given how well the run has gone and a skin issue that certainly needs attention, sanity prevails that today's work has been enough.

19 miles comes just before our house. I feel better than I did in the middle of my run, probably a natural high that has built on itself.

It is 65 miles for the week.

Holy sweet mother, I am going to be running the Boston Marathon next April. And I will be prepared this time to give my reconfigured best effort.

I. Am. An. Animal.

Flying.

58 Does 60

2011-11-21T10:24:00.001-05:00

This will be short, but I have hit a goal that has been a long time coming: yesterday I ran 18 miles, but more importantly my week's mileage hit a new amp milestone at 60. Not bad for a 58 year old one footed runner.

I had thought I had run some 60 mile weeks back in 2006, maybe even early 2007, but as I reviewed my run logs it turned out to be 2004. My old ankle was becoming increasingly painful and my mileage was dropping through those years.

I need to be able to do this kind of mileage and more if I am to have any chance of having a good day at Boston. Later on Sunday I completed my training plan for the marathon, and I will likely top out around 70 mi/wk for some training sessions. My speed is still around 1 min/mi slower (at best) than my old biped self, so I need endurance to run this throttled body at a good pace for 26.2.

Thanks to my team at ProCare for giving me a state-of-the-art prosthesis that does not artificially limit my efforts. I will need to run consistent weeks of training to prepare for this marathon of a lifetime, and I intend to give it my best.

Jato At Ease

My Guiding Lights

2011-11-17T22:15:00.018-05:00

(Note: I quickly mentioned my guides in my last post, but felt I needed to give this subject a little more depth, as without my guides I would be lost and wandering about the greater Boston area for years to come.)

*******

Boston allows and encourages the use of guides for the MI (mobility impaired) runners and not just for those who have a sight impairment. Because we start before anyone else in the field - which is like, dude, totally awesome - at some point those swifter runners will catch us.

As Kelly Luckett explained to me, the guides are there to protect both the runner and equally if not more importantly the elites and then main field from collisions. Running at this level takes a huge focus, and if an elite running 4:40 miles comes up on yours truly poking along at 9 min/mi there may be an unwelcome greeting:

"Hello Mr. Macadam, hate to meet you!"

*******

The One and Only

The choices for my guides are two extraordinary people in my life. I present my #1 best friend and wife, Jennifer Starrett Blalock, a.k.a. "Sweetness and Light," who will guide me from the motel to the starting line, attempting to keep me from losing my marbles, prosthetic supplies, clothing items, and all things running I will need for the race.

Jennifer has supported me on every step of this journey, even writing some articles that appeared in the print version of the Running Journal. Her best advice ever to me was to "keep your eye on the prize." The journey has been made brighter by her ability to keep my feet, uh, foot in the ground through humor and understanding.

She has been my rock and supporter. I'd conservatively estimate well over half of my fundraising for the IFOPA came from her quiet efforts. So yes, I love her and happy she lets me hang around.

*******

Be Like Mike

Mike Lenhart is the founder and president of The Getting2Tri Foundation. I have written quite a few posts about the amazing work Mike has done to help and support disabled people find hope - and often a part of themselves they did not know existed - through sport. Through Mike I have come to know many people that have enriched my own life beyond measure.

Mike has run marathons as a guide with Scott Rigsby, Jason Gunter, and Richard Whitehead. I am in the best of hands with his experience; not only that, Mike is simply a great guy and cares deeply for his athletes. They are never obligated to be a means of funding for the organization simply because they disabled. This is the very reason I intend to fund raise for G2T in the future.

*******

I know much of my race day anxiousness will be alleviated by having Jennifer and Mike at my side. Both know me and my love for running, and beyond that, I am so grateful and blessed that I can share this most special day with them.

Here is a video of the start of the MI division by one of the athletes, Stephen Gaudet. Stephen has greatly diminished lung capacity due to severe asthma that causes permanent decline. Having had childhood asthma that nearly killed me, I have heroic respect for this man who has done the Boston Marathon. My disability is quite visual; his is not. Stephen shows great courage, courage that few possess. His is true inspiration.

You will also see our friends Brian and Kelly Luckett in this video. I hope this gives you a sense of what we will feel on April 16, 2012, as we stand in the starting line of the Boston Marathon and leading the race if only for a short time with our MI brothers and sisters. Indeed, it will be a day like no other.

I am training to fly.

WAAAAAHOOOO!!! IT'S OFFICIAL!!!

2011-11-13T10:55:00.000-05:00

The Dream Comes True

Somewhere between Columbia and Greenville on our way to ProCare Prosthetics in Buford, GA, I received the email I had been looking forward to ever since registering for the Boston Marathon back in September. Even though my friend Kelly Luckett had been able to confirm we were registered, part of me wanted this official word to make it real, to prove I wasn't living in some dream or coma.

I was on my laptop doing a little work when I got the message, and in a rather exuberant moment tried to put the screen in front of Jennifer, who happened to be driving around 70 m.p.h. at the time.

MI = Mobility Impaired

Mobility Impaired runners start first at Boston, before the wheelchair athletes and before the elites. This will be like a recurring running dream I have, where I am leading a race without effort. Then I am lost, running off course, sometimes through a building with no idea where the next turn is on the course. Part of this will be a déjà vu at Boston.

Boston allows each MI athlete to have two guides. In the case of the visually impaired, it is understandable that a guide is required for negotiating roadway hazards. However, as I learned from Kelly, since we MIs start first, we will be shortly overtaken by the elites and then the main field, most all who will be running far faster than us. Part of the guide's duties are to let the oncoming runners know that a MI athlete is ahead. Those faster runners will be focusing on their race and may not see the slower moving objects until too late.

From left: Ashley Kurpiel, Mike Lenhart, and Robin Hiers at G2T Camp 2011

My guides will be my wife Jennifer and my friend Mike Lenhart. Jennifer will assist getting me to the starting line and help me find my mind when I lose it on raceday morning. As it turns out, Mike's sister is running Boston as an able-bodied athlete, and he had previously expressed a hope to go see her run. Now he has an obligation to be there, and will get to see his sister as she breezes past us later in the race. Maybe. :)

Jennifer and me at the 2011 G2T Camp

I will be running this race once again raising money for The International Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva Association (IFOPA) and honoring our friend Ashley Kurpiel. We have come a long, long way in the past year with the exciting news that a drug will be in trials soon that WILL STOP this disease in its tracks. This is a finish line we can cross with your help here.

When I did fund raising at the Charleston Marathon I had no idea we were moving so quickly to end the destruction of this disease. The end is near for FOP, and we want to send it off faster with a good riddance kick in the butt as soon as possible. So please help get us over this hurdle and make a huge difference in so many people's lives?

Ashley has told me she, her family, and some other FOPers will be at Boston. I cannot imagine what that day will be like without waves of emotion overtaking me. To think of all we have been through and done together started with a few kind words from Ashley to me. Never underestimate the effect of human thought, kindness, and the spirit within.

We will get there from here.

Savannah on Six Feet

2011-11-11T17:57:00.000-05:00

From left, Me, Jennifer, Kelly, and Brian

We had a nice three hour drive to Charleston's sister city last weekend to run the Savannah Rock'nRoll half marathon. We stayed with our friends Kelly and Brian Luckett who would both be running the full 26.2. Savannah is one of America's jewels and I was happy we got to spend some time there, seeing it from the unique runner's perspective.

My summer had been tuned to shorter speed work, and having to cut back on intensity and days with my recent skin infection, I knew a PR was unlikely. In reviewing my running log from the previous year, I was certain my endurance was not where it was at that time. Still, I felt I should be able to run under 2 hours, although I knew if I had a bad day 2:10 should be the upper limit.

We hit the expo just before what appeared to be the peak, and then headed to the Luckett's temporary accommodations on Skidaway Island. Kelly and Brian very much want to move into the city, and in the meantime have this rental to tide them over. Kelly is a Syme's amputee, and therefor has a long residual limb, so long that she has to use a Cheetah running blade, the same one that Oscar Pistorius employs.

*******

Kelly and Brian had arranged to get us a close parking spot for the morning of the race. It was quite chilly, but I knew I would warm up quickly and decided to forgo gloves and ear protection. I did put warmer clothes in my gear check bag, only wish I had had the good sense to put those gloves in the bag for after the race.

We all walked to the starting area and split up to go to our corral areas. Jennifer took my gear check bag since her corral was nearby, and I went off shivering to stand in line where all runners go...and go...and go. I did find two ADA (handicap) units. These are not reserved for the handicapped, at least not at this event.

I had about 40 minutes to wait, and found some shelter in a stairway. I closed my eyes and try to relax and meditate some...for some reason I kept seeing the mental picture of myself on the 7th floor of Roper Hospital. This is where I stayed immediately after my surgery, the first days of the journey that lead me to this new life. Back then I remember trying to imagine what it would be like to run again. Now I know.

********

I was in the 4th corral and we got started very quickly. As always, my main concern was not to start too quickly. Usually my first mile is a little fast if I don't reel myself in, but today I was not running quite so easily. After 3 miles I was certain this was going to be harder than I expected, and I hoped I would not crash and burn given all of the training I had done.

There was tremendous crowd support on the course, very much welcomed to hear even if we cannot always respond to it. Many, many people talked to me, definitely a mixed bag of loving the support and feeling a lack of focus for the need to acknowledge it. I simply can't ignore it and must give some response, in my mind I have to think the support goes into the heart and will be needed some day.

There were many kind words. One of the most memorable was hearing a guy behind me say something like:

'Man, looks at that guy with the prosthetic...with all the aches and pains I complain about I'm not saying another word.'

I wanted to say I was not in that kind of pain today, but it did take me back to what I had been through to get to this day, to be able to run again. My vision blurred and I could not speak these words to him.

Photo by Dan Clapper

Throughout the race my left hamstring felt like someone was plucking it like a string, just enough to let me know something was not quite right. I did not stop to stretch, only tried to massage it as best I could and trying not to stress it more. Luckily it never did cramp, but given this sign I know I need to attend to it before I step up my training for Boston,

Dan Clapper and Peggy Klimecki, both Charleston area athletes, passed me during the race, Dan taking pictures and Peggy offering encouragement. Another woman, wearing a Boston Marathon top, ran by and asked if I was Richard Blalock, and then ran on, I have no idea who she was but seeing that Boston shirt sure brought the goal race to mind.

********

Photo by Dan Clapper

For me, the best moment of the race was our run along Liberty Street. We were headed into the sunrise, the spectators were incredibly loud and excited, and we runners were moving together in a tunnel of live oaks to the brilliance of a new day. 'Run toward the light!' I thought. For a short period I felt no runner's distress, just the lightness of running with these magnificent people. How could I have missed this...forever?

How beautiful. With wings.

*******

Usually I like to have a little something left for the last 3 miles, but now I was struggling and not terribly happy about it. Even knowing the why if it, it is still hard for me to accept a slower time than I had hoped for. As we reached the final stretch to the finish line, I did try to pick up the pace one last time. My hamstring complained a little too loudly and I stumbled, looking like a wounded Big Bird as I regained my balance.

S & L Photography

Crossing the finish line, a volunteer helped me, making sure I was okay after my stumble and there wasn't anything seriously wrong. I thanked him, received my finisher's medal, and headed off to pick up my gear as I was quickly getting chilled.

We had planned to meet at the letter "L" in the reunion area after the race, only I didn't see then letter on any of the pylons. Turned out they were on the other side of a walk/tree line, but Brian and Jennifer hunted me down and we soon all waited for Kelly after some coffee and food at a nearby cafe. Brian had a solid PR and would have gone faster save a nasty headwind that beat up the marathoners in the final miles.

Jennifer did quite well with her half and I was okay with my 2:04:42 finish. Kelly had an enjoyable race, no doubt even better that they have made the move from Atlanta to the Savannah area and this would be her home race for the future.

This was the first race in my new prosthesis from ProCare. the first couple of miles thought I might have some pressure on the distal end, but that abated and the leg performed flawlessly for the rest of the race. I have run in it a couple of times after the race and it feels incredible. I am looking forward to pushing my training with this, my state-of-the-art partner. More on it later!

*******

We spent the rest of the day recovering and reliving the race while catching up on all things running and even not running. After dinner we caught up on our caloric expenditure at Leopold's Ice Cream, amazing how quiet we became over our pumpkin pie sundaes. Okay, so this is the real reason we burn 1500 - 2500 calories at a race, still too much stigma attached to this secret fact.

*******

It is fair to say I was somewhat disappointed in my race time, but afterward the feeling I had was similar to other races where I did not run to my expectations. That feeling is the knowledge that with some changes in training I will run better, much better. I know it is in me to do so because I have done so already. I do believe this:

"Now I will turn the miracle into routine. The amazing will be seen every day."

- Pi, from "The Life of Pi" (Yann Martel)

Catch Up

2011-11-06T19:43:00.007-05:00

Two weeks Jennifer traveled with me to ProCare in Buford, Georgia. It is a 5 1/2 hour hike, and I was glad to have her company. The impetus for the trip was twofold, my running prosthesis had caused a couple of hotspots to arise on my residual leg and I needed to have my new walking prosthesis modified as well.

My running prosthesis has had no changes since the Charleston Marathon, where I was fitted and had one adjustment just before the race without me present to test it. Considering the speed at which all of this work was accomplished - replacing a plastic prosthesis that had opened my incision line from a prior company - it is a testament to their work that I've experienced so few problems until now.

Skin abrasions - blister bandages relieve pressure in socket

When one of the hotspots bled a little a couple of weeks ago, I decided it was time to get the problem fixed, as I must be able to train consistently to perform my best at Boston next year. Additionally, the spot on my tibial crest was getting larger and quite red, leading me to believe it might be infected. Indeed it was; when I got home I saw my family physician, and was given an antibiotic that started clearing it up in a couple of days.

*******

White hot Jato cooling it

Stephen Schulte worked with me to determine how we could take the pressure off these hotspots while making sure we didn't move the problem elsewhere. I was given a clear, hard plastic test socket that I wore on a couple of training runs and didn't notice any specific areas of concern. Given the green light, Jerry Brown at ProCare fabricated my definitive running prosthesis and they shipped it to me, along with a new foot for my walking prosthesis that I am very excited about. It is an improved version of the Freedom Innovations foot I currently have and is called the Renegade A·T. I will be installing it on my prosthesis soon and will review it in a later post.

This is the first of several upgrades to Jato, some of which is proprietary to ProCare and invaluable to me as a runner. Also, at age 58, my body is not as resilient as it used to be 25 years ago, so a good fit just won't do, it must be a great fit. And these are the guys who can deliver.

*******

I just ran a half marathon in this prosthesis and will do a race report as soon as I can get to it. Although my time was a little slower than I expected, I knew by reviewing my run logs and knowing the training I have been doing meant my endurance was less than optimal for a faster 13.1. I think it is human/runner's nature to always expect a faster time for a race even if we know we aren't quite prepared for such an effort.

Prior to the race I knew I might run as slow as 2:10; not that this really qualifies as slow, but of my 3 prior halves it would be the third slowest. I did run faster than that, but the last 3 miles were more of a struggle than I would have liked. I believe this may have been because of the recent skin infection and antibiotic's effects on my body, we are human beings and not machines.

I have a lot of upcoming news and hope to blog it over the next week. From my guides selected for the Boston Marathon (Guides? You need guides?) to my Savannah Rock'nRoll half marathon report there is much to tell. And I will...after the next run.

Little

2011-11-02T12:02:00.003-04:00

There is a broad meadow, and on a small rise a single apple tree stands alone. Below an old locust wood fence runs along the shoulder of a rocky stream...squirrels chases each other on the rails. Raccoons and opossums play on the bank, splashing in the water.

Deer stand along the far field, unafraid and unblinking. Birds flutter above, their wings beating a light rhythm. The quiet thrum of insects is everywhere. Distant high mountain peaks cling to the sky, a deepening blue, in the indigo hues faint stars appear.

A wee white dog lies at the foot of the tree with several cats. One warm patch of summer grass is left bare as the sun filters through the leaves. Little will be here soon.

Little has been greatly missed by her friends.

She will be greatly missed by her friends.

*******

Last goodbye

Little Little (Sabrina)
1994 – 2011

Found on a trash heap, you came to be our friend. I leave you here, in my mind and memory, deeply loved.

B-Bro Fort-2-Fort 2-Island Hop 'n Ride

2011-10-15T10:43:00.004-04:00

My brothers were both much faster runners than me. I leaned more to the endurance side, while they would have been superb 200/400m men given their quickness. Older David's inclination was for football and was a running back in high school; younger brother Mark took on our dad's love for baseball. David has left us for now, but Mark is still running rampant though not specifically running due to a knee condition.

Brothers Mark (left), me, David (right)

Mark does bike, kayak, and has coached baseball while his sons inherited baseball fever. I have to say both boys could have been - and still could be - outstanding runners if they found a love for it. I have run races with the boys when they were younger and know they have the talent to be at least national class runners.

Back when ABC had shown some interest in filming Ashley Kurpiel's story and our fund raising efforts for the IFOPA, I had been thinking about venues for the show had we not been able to secure a race for the event. Chad Haffa saved us from not having a race, but I had working on some other ideas. The one event I felt I could personally pull off would be a run from Sullivan's Island to James Island, which would go through Charleston around White Point Gardens. I would ask anyone who wanted to run with me to just join in, maybe we would run at night to make it a little more special.

As it turned out this idea wasn't needed, but the thought stayed with me. Since I hope to be doing 5 or 6 20+ milers during my Boston marathon training, I thought this would still be a great course to run. Then lightning struck my pea brain...I considered having my brother ride his bike along with me, getting him moving a little more vigorously than usual and having some company and conversation along the way. Brilliant!

Thus the B-Bro (Blalock Brothers) Fort-2-Fort (Fort Moultrie to Fort Johnson Road) 2-Island (Sullivan's Island to James Island) Hop (Me) 'n Ride (Mark) was born. Genius!

The course will be close to this one:

The run will be around 20 miles. No date has been set yet, but likely in January 2012. I'll have to see how the training is going and preferably some clear weather for Mark. Or not, I may want him to enjoy all nature has to offer to the long distance runner.

I'll start the rain dance now.

Thin Air

2011-09-30T17:25:00.003-04:00

On Wednesday I received word from 7 and soon-to-be-8-time Boston Marathon MI (Mobility Impaired) runner Kelly Luckett that we were indeed confirmed to run the 2012 edition of this legendary race. Kelly spoke to the woman in charge of our division and was told she (Kelly), Shariff Abdullah (Singapore Blade Runner) and I (goober) were all in. Although we were waiting - and still are as I write this - on the "official" word directly from the BAA (Boston Athletic Association) in the form of an email or letter and wanting to see our names on the entrant's list, I knew I was officially in the race.


Shariff Abdullah, the Singapore Blade Runner (SBR)

*******

The week had started with an early morning 6 mile run on Monday. This was the first time ever I have run with a headlamp, and I found it worked extremely well. The lamp I have was purchased in Maine when Jennifer and I were vacationing with my brother Mark and his wife Debbie some years ago. I used it to get around at night after my surgery when I was on crutches or in my wheelchair; this was so I could see without waking Jennifer and to avoid tripping/running over rugs, pets, or any other inventive obstacles.

Back to the run, as I started my 6th mile, I felt my residual leg pistoning some (moving up and down) in my liner. What I should have done was to stop, check my leg, and likely added a prosthetic sock to snug up my fit. Trouble was I did not have an extra sock with me...or much good sense.

I continued to run and when I got home I found a previous hot spot had the skin taken off and was bleeding a little. The nickel-sized spot was right on the tibial crest, where it is difficult to protect from the pressures of running. Further irritation would only deepen and enlarge the wound, so I would need to take some time off.

Since I have had some issues in this area in the past, I made an appointment with my prosthetist and will get an adjustment soon. To help mitigate pressure on the area, I applied some material to either side of the tibial crest to push the affected area away from socket. This should remove the most intense forces from causing any more damage.

Such an injury will cause several training days to be missed. Usually this upsets me some, but given I did not heed the warning signals, I have learned yet another hard lesson. In a stroke of questionable fortune, I developed a seasonal cold that would require some downtime as well. So now I am taking care of two mortal conditions simultaneously, but should be pieced together and ready to go in a few days.

*******

After I learned of my acceptance into the Boston Marathon, I posted the news on Facebook and Twitter and sent a few emails. It was great to share this announcement with people who have been there with me for this journey, many supporting my fund raising efforts at the Charleston Marathon for The International Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva Association (IFOPA), honoring our friend Ashley Kurpiel.

As I sat at my desk processing what this meant, I kept thinking of the day my surgeon told me my running days were over. I was not ready to give up, yet those words fell on my spirit with the weight of a thousand tons. Going from that dark moment to this one is nearly impossible to convey.

It crossed my mind that miracles are not some kind of supernatural magic, rather, a very real condition that deep belief can bring to pass on sheer will. The will to take what is not, and transform it into what is. Even if it is not to be, to never yield to the dark. Dr. Ohlson took what was not, my damaged right foot, and in its void a the miracle arose.

Out of nothingness, this bright thing. Being.

*******

I still plan to celebrate the direct, official email or letter that the BAA will send that confirms my place on the starting line, no doubt to be framed and cherished for the rest of this life. Life is strange and surprising; few if any of us see the voyage from beginning to end with clarity of the journey. There are a few more surprises along the way, and I hope I can make a few dreams come true.

Nine Twelve Two Thousand Eleven

2011-09-18T17:31:00.002-04:00

On this morning at 10 am I registered for the Boston Marathon. Mobility Impaired runners will not get official word until around September 28, so barring something completely unforeseen, I should get my notification then by email.

*******

Going back to 2007 when I still had two anatomical feet, I had given up on this dream ever becoming reality. I was training for the Jacksonville Marathon and my running times had been become stuck with my foot pain only increasing over time. One day that November my right foot found a small pavement depression and I believe the last of my peroneal tendon shredded. I limped home and knew I'd never make the starting line in Florida.

Not only was I not going to run another marathon, but a lifetime of running came to a hard stop. There would be no more races. No evening runs where twilight transformed me into a golden, winged messenger. I would not stand on another starting line chasing ever distant PRs. The life of this runner was over. Finished.

Yet I could not let go. Something in my mind, despite the reality, would not let go. I had faith in nothing at all but faith in what I was.

Then I let go.

I let go of a part of me, one of a pair that had carried me throughout my life. I had to lose a very real part of me, to regain myself. How odd to feel a part of you has preceded you into the forever, detached and no longer living.

And from that loss I become alive again, alive in a way far beyond any dream possible. Seeing life as a new citizen, living a new life as a different me.

From reality to dream to reality, I will now find myself standing on the starting line of the 2012 Boston Marathon. I will be there with my mobility impaired friends, two who will be Kelly Luckett and Shariff Abdullah. From our losses we will look within and find spirits that will not be stopped, the spirits that are us.

Human beings.

With wings.

This and That

2011-09-05T17:59:00.004-04:00

Random pic of jackass parking at Charleston Bagel

I have several posts in the works, including a rather negative one about the way runners are treated by the Town of Mount Pleasant Recreation Department. I don't like dwelling in the negative, which is why that post has been in editing mode for over a year.

This post will cover several things that happened this week and a few rambling thoughts as well.

*******

First, two things have happened for the 5k at the Francis Marion Dirt Dash on September 10. We thought there was a chance the race might have national network television exposure for our cause, the International Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva Association. However, scheduling did not work out despite our best efforts to come up with an event with the extraordinary help of Chad Haffa, the race director.

Second, Ashley Kurpiel, our friend and FOP champion, had a previous engagement before the network expressed an interest in this story. Considering all of the circumstances, she decided to attend the prior event since it would be very expensive to come here for the 5k. The trip would be by car and it is uncomfortable for her to travel 6 hours. We'll miss having her at the race, but I know she is doing what she needs to do...live her life every day.

*******

Last week's training went well, only downside was missing my run on Monday due to travel and then my speedwork suffered from a bit of fatigue. I rallied and ran 10 miles on Saturday and 16 on Sunday to make 50 miles for the week. My goal was 55 miles so a little short, but the two back-to-back longer runs was a great workout. The weather was a tad cooler, something I felt out on the road on Sunday where I kept a good pace and finished strong.

*******

Small cut on skin from pinching liner with benzoin protectant

I still have trouble with my liner pinching my skin at times. For protection I had been using A&D ointment at the direction of my prosthetist. However, it was clogging and disabling my vacuum pump far too often. We were then told to start using mineral oil, but it does not protect the skin as well as the A&D. In short order I had some skin breakdown in the creases of the liner where it bends behind my knee.

I decided to try some tincture of benzoin as a skin protectant. This worked for shorter runs, but the mineral oil tended to break it down and I still had some broken skin. For the past weekend run I used the benzoin and then a layer of New-Skin the night before my runs. This protected my skin but I still noted the covering was breaking down and wondered if it would eventually clog my pump again.

Sweat in the frame when vac pump goes on vacation

Doing a bit of research, I found another skin protectant I have ordered. It has great promise and if it works I'll blog about it later.

*******

Boston Marathon registration is in one week. I can't find anything about signing up as a Mobility Impaired athlete. My friend Kelly Luckett, a veteran of the race many times over, is trying to get in touch with her contact to see what our procedure is. I still feel a little hesitant to say "I am running Boston in 2012!" until I am confirmed with a number. So for now we'll let this pot simmer.

*******

I have nearly finished the book "Unbroken" by Laura Hillenbrand. It is the life story of Louis Zamperini, Olympic runner and B-24 bombardier in the Pacific in WWII. I could not help but think of what he and so many other POWs endured during the war, horrible, inhumane things. I think of whining I hear at work and at times online, and wonder how any of us would survive a day, an hour, hell, a few minutes of the abuse these men endured. My patience is short with these malcontents knowing we have life so easy even in these challenging economic times.

Read this book. It will make you a stronger person. And you may just remember it when you think about whining the next time you have to reboot your computer and think you are enduring the unendurable.

*******

I am looking forward to the 5k on Saturday and hope to run well. Last year I ran the half marathon, my first as an amputee. It was a hot, humid day and a struggle for me to finish. This year the races start an hour earlier so there should be more shade. Given I am running 3.1 miles instead of 13.1, I suspect I will fare better physically, plus my prostheses last year was not the extraordinary one I have now.

I will run thinking, a little, what might have been had this event received a national audience, highlighting our friend and, I think, life-teacher Ashley Kurpiel. I will run for her, knowing every, every day is precious and none to be wasted.

And I will try to fly.

Goo U

2011-08-12T16:34:00.004-04:00

Note: I am not sponsored by anyone at this time nor do I have any financial interests in ANY companies I mention...if I did I would disclose it here. I think any amputee with competing interests should make the truth known. However, any companies or products I do use and feel strongly about I will mention especially those they will help my fellow runners, two-, one- or no-footed.

*******

I have used Shoe Goo for probably as long as the company has been in
existence. It has saved me hundreds, possibly thousands of dollars over the lifetime of the many running shoes I have worn on two feet. Now that I have an outsole on my blade, I depend on this product even more.

What Shoe Goo does is minimize/prevents breakdown of the shoe outsole. Without Shoe Goo, I would likely get no more than 250 miles on a pair of running shoes before completely wearing through most outsoles. Back when I ran over 2000 miles a year - and I am approaching doing that again - this would mean new shoes about every 5 weeks without Shoe Goo, or 10 weeks with it.

Having a blade complicates things. Currently I have an Asics Gel-Nimbus 12 outsole glued to the bottom of my blade. It is not a simple thing to replace it; my prosthetists at ProCare do this for me. They do expert trimming and make sure the height is correct. I've yet to have a problem with the outsole coming loose on my blade so I know they are doing a good job.

Since my prosthetist is in GA over 300 miles away, getting a new outsole means either having them resole the blade when I have an office visit or am in the area, or sending the blade to them which means no running while it is gone. The latter is unacceptable to me; so far the former has been my modus operandi.

Now that I visit less often, it is important that I do not wear out my outsole on my blade, and here is where ShoeGoo shines. I should also note as long as I can keep tread on my blade I don't have to be as worried as much out midsole breakdown, as my blade provides plenty of shock adsorption which it needs to provide energy return anyway.

Shoe Goo on Nitro running blade - Asics Gel-Nimbus outsole

My friend Kelly Luckett has asked me about how I handled outsole replacement, and I told her about Shoe Goo. She was rightly concerned about using something new just before an upcoming marathon, something we runners try to avoid. However, I told her it was not slick, was actually 'tacky' on the roads and once you had gotten a good coat on your outsole, it would actually pick up some asphalt debris and not require as much re-gooing. Kelly gave it a try at the San Francisco marathon and loved it.

I feel I am something of a scientist on using Shoe Goo after so many years of experience, so here I have distilled the finer points for the gimp runner:

Have new outsole glued onto blade by prosthetist.
Wear blade until first signs the sole is being roughed up or about 25 miles; when in doubt sooner is better than later. May wear off more quickly if outsole is too new/smooth.
On first application, apply Shoe-Goo thinly on outsole and let dry for at least an hour.
After about an hour apply heavier coat and let dry 48 hours. Note due to personal wear pattern some areas need more attention than others.
Best to reapply at least thin coat after run if you can give it a day to dry...I find it will wear down quicker if you are unable to give it much less drying time than this.
Use on both shoes...I have several pair of shoes in my left-foot rotation and always have a 'cured' shoe ready to go.
Keep supply on-hand...I buy 5+ tubes at a time. It is not very expensive.

You are now a graduate of Goo U and your soles thank you.

Surf City ACA

2011-07-16T11:11:00.001-04:00

Don't tell me what you can't do.

Show me what you can do.

*******

This is our friend Ashley Kurpiel SURFING with other attendees of the Amputee Coalition of America conference in 2010. Ashley has the extremely rare fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva (FOP), she lost her right arm and shoulder due to a misdiagnosis of her condition as a little girl.

Come meet Ashley as we honor her and raise money to stop FOP as we run through the Francis Marion National Forest on September 10, 2011.

Sign up for the 5k here and we will see you there!

Run Forest Run!

2011-07-09T12:46:00.002-04:00

As mentioned in the prior post, a network television show may want to highlight our fundraising efforts for the IFOPA (International Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva Association).

This came about when a Twitter / Facebook friend Colin Cooley mentioned it to someone "in the business" (I am not sure how many details I should offer for now) who he knew was looking to do a different kind of program. What makes this show so unique is it will be an attempt at an uplifting, positive theme instead of some of the more contentious subjects that pit contestants against each other.

They wanted to know about any upcoming fundraisers we were doing. The All-American 5k would have been a perfect venue had all this happened earlier, but that was water under the cart path. I still plan to run the Boston Marathon in 2012 honoring Ashley Kurpiel and fund raising for the IFOPA and you can preview that page here.

Ashley Kurpiel (center) at the All-American 5k

The network scheduled dictated we would have to have a race far sooner than that, so we had to organize a new one or piggyback on an established event. Having never put on a race and having so little time to do it, I was completely overwhelmed at the prospect of trying to do it. The thought did come to mind of two local people who I could talk to about either a new race or an existing one, as I had little confidence I could do it myself.

I first talked to Mike McKenna, who has been a dedicated supporter of my efforts of fundraising for IFOPA. Mike is also the current Charleston Running Club president and was co-director of the Catch the Leprechaun race back in March. Last week we had a good phone conversation, and we concluded that asking Chad Haffa, the race director for the Francis Marion Dirt Dash half marathon and 5k would be our best bet.

I sent Chad a FB message and he immediately gave me a call and agreed to letting us latch onto his 5k. Not only that, he went the extra mile and quickly set up the Active.com 5k registration to allow a donation to be made to the IFOPA as well as stating that all proceeds from this race (outside of expenses) would go to the charity as well.

Among the hats he wears, Chad is a firefighter, trail/endurance runner, and race director. We are deeply appreciative of what he has done for us, as this opportunity to give FOP national exposure may not have had a venue otherwise. Again and again I am amazed of where this journey has taken us, and what might not have happened had it never been started. How can there possibly be any regrets?

My first amp marathon - Dirt Dash 2010

So the title of this post, "Run Forest Run" is exactly that, a run through the Francis Marion National Forest on September 10, 2011. I ran the half marathon last year at the inaugural race and will run the 5k this year in support of the IFOPA. This was my first amputee half marathon in 2010 and turned out to be a difficult race with the heat and sharp-edged prosthesis. This year the race starts an hour earlier and is designed so there will be more shade in the later stages of the run. Chad is striving to improve his events and has responded to runner's comments from last year.

Television show or not, the 5k race will be a charity event for the IFOPA and I intend to be in good shape to run it well. I hope readers of this blog will consider running or walking the 5k and donating when you sign up for the race here. Please note the 5k race is being used for IFOPA fund raising, and the half marathon donates to the Mount Pleasant Fire Departments Wildland Firefighting Program. The latter is something Chad is involved in as a firefighter and is a great cause as well.

*******

Hope to see you on September 10, 2011! Please say hi to me, I have no problem talking about my prosthesis or answering any questions you have. Several people have asked me questions because they or someone they know are looking into elective amputation and have never talked to someone with a lost limb.

Carol and Ashley Kurpiel

Ashley plans to be there as well and I hope you get a chance to meet and speak to one of the most remarkable people you will ever know. Running this race WILL help Ashley and everyone else with FOP, so Run Forest Run!

Connect To Purpose

2011-07-03T22:12:00.004-04:00

On Wednesday, June 22, Dr. Blake Ohlson and I gave a short presentation at a Roper St. Francis Healthcare (RSFH) event. Dr. Ohlson had asked me to speak to a nurse's group in August 2010, by far the largest audience I had the extremely nervous pleasure of speaking before in my life. This group was larger yet, and oddly enough, although I was a bit anxious, I did not fear I was being tossed into a lion's den where my voice would fail me.

The prior week I had been to ProCare to get my new walking prosthesis, and I mentioned this talk to my CP Stephen Schulte and how I wasn't as anxious. Stephen said something like, "Well, you do know your subject well since you lived it." Indeed. Rarely a day go by that something in these past two years does not float up in the pool of memory, sometimes a small detail that is not small at all. I had been thinking about my roommate at Roper Rehab, a man one year younger than my dad. That he was there with me as my life was changing. As I thought of this, I wondered how I could keep the raw emotions in check as I told my story.

*******

I met Leigh Darby, who was working with Dr. Ohlson and me on our presentation. She had sent us an idea of what we would talk about, first Dr. Ohlson would speak about the Ertl procedure in less technical terms and how the team concept is essential in this surgery and recovery. To underscore the team concept, he managed to work this video about lack of team cooperation. Funny, I once had a cat named Pinky, a white female short hair who was probably smarter than me...and I don't hear any disagreement out there.

While waiting our turn, I also had a nice chat with Dr. Ohlson's PA, Kate Eden, who assisted in my surgery. She is now training for a half marathon, perhaps the same one in Savannah that Jennifer and I will be doing in November. I got a chance to talk to the Rock Doc himself, something I really like doing outside the professional confines of the medical office. We chatted about running shoes, music, and I got a preview of the Pinky video.

Things were running a little long and I tried to gather my thoughts for my part of the talk. I had printed out the timeline of my blog so I wouldn't get flustered on remembering the significant dates I wanted to mention. Other than that, I had no detailed notes, and wanted to speak from my heart about the procedure I went through with my surgeon at Roper St. Francis, my recovery and return to running.

*******

Leigh gave us an introduction, mentioning my first visit to Roper was when I was 5 or 6. I wrote about this in a prior post here. The short version is as a little boy I was trying to catch a bullfrog in a neighbor's drainage pipe, slipped and cut my right big toe. My parents had to take me to Roper's ER for stitches. After my talk this became more personal, as I will write about later in this post.

Dr. Ohlson gave an engaging presentation, being an Assistant Professor Orthopaedic Surgery at MUSC as well as an outstanding musician, he has a personable stage presence. As I listen to him I found myself thinking in slight amazement about the journey that brought me to this place, today, one of the least likely public speakers I know, who happened to be me. I was nervous, but as my wise wife Jennifer has said somehow I can speak 'outside' of myself. I think it's true as otherwise I'd be a wreck.

My talk was much of what has been written on this blog: my injury, my life before my ankle went south, my talks with Dr. Ohlson and my surgeries, the care I received at Roper, my return to running culminating with the Charleston Marathon this past January. As I prepared my thoughts for what I wanted to say in the days leading up to the talk, I knew it would be impossible to keep my emotions in check.

And impossible that was.

*******

Afterward as we left the stage, I had several people shake my hand, I was completely overwhelmed and stupefied from my talk. As I approached the exit, a woman said: "Hi Richard...do you know who I am?" At that point I may not have recognized my own mother, but she told me her name, Beth Bevins, who was a childhood friend and next door neighbor. It was their driveway pipe I was trying to catch that infamous bullfrog, the one that sent me to Roper to get my big toe stitched up over 50 years ago.

Beth now works at Roper.

*******

Until the end of my days it I will always be grateful to the people who took care of me. My transition from able-bodied runner to sitter of the couch to a runner again did not happen without this medical army working together to fix me...in a good way! :-) I am sure at times they have the worst job in the world, caring for those human beings who cannot come back to us. Yet is it the worse, helping us in our greatest time of need? I hope the successes, however large or small, help them to know this: what would we do without you? The suffering would be never ending. At times I hope you know you have the best job in the world and you can see it, the difference you make, in this one life.

*******


Card I received from Diana Topjian, VP of Nursing, among some other treasures: my 1997 Chicago marathon shoes - two of them! - Old Glory and trophy from the All American 5k, and Cure FOP bracelets

So much of my life has changed, it is hard to believe, and it seems destined to continue to come into this new light. I suppose we all feel or have felt that some special destiny awaits us. I tend to believe it does, and recognizing it may not be anything what we imagined it would be.

There is one thing I hope I communicated but not sure I did in my talk. We all know there are no guarantees in life, that things can and will happen for which there is no "fix," nothing than can make life better or, at times, save it. We all face a certain destiny we cannot avoid. This in itself will not stop us from trying, from research and searching for cures, from easing the pain of others, from doing what we can do. When we think we are at an end, look and search again. Dr. Ohlson, the doctor who told me: "dude, I think your running days are over" is the very surgeon who removed my pain and set me flying again, along with all of the healthcare professionals and allied services that stitched this broken wing.

*******

As I write this a network television company has contacted Ashley and me about the possibility of doing a show about our story. At once I am terrified and humbled and stunned where this life has taken me...that this would never have happened had I not decided to pursue the passion in my life, and had that not led Ashley to contact me after my operation. With such exposure this will help bring FOP into national recognition at a time when there is a promise that a drug can be developed that can arrest the disease and stop it in its tracks. Not a cure, but immediate hope that those with FOP can know it will go no further; that those diagnosed may have lives largely unaffected by the disease until a cure can - and will be - found.

It is impossible for me to say why my largely introverted and shy life has taken an opposite tack into the wind. All I know is I would change nothing, that no matter how hard it is for me to do some things, that I am willing to do them because I must. We will not stop, we will not quit. Lives depend on us, every single one of us.

Let the amazing be seen every day...in you.

Elective Amputation Part III - The Physician and Saving Lives

2011-06-19T11:32:00.009-04:00

I have written a couple of blog posts about elective amputation. The first is here and the follow-up is here. This will be the third in the series, and one that I find disheartening and disturbing to write. It concerns physicians who only see amputation as dismal failure. Additionally, if it must be undertaken, then as much limb as possible must be saved, even if it means taking half a foot and rendering the patient barely able to ambulate, much less enjoy life again. Let me say here and now that partial foot amputation is pure butchery, simple as that.

I want to mention there are physicians who know amputation is often the best choice for their patient. For a person who first faces limb loss this can be a traumatic experience and the word "amputation" tough to hear. Since they have not had time to process the situation or arm themselves with knowledge about the procedure, they often make a choice they may later regret. I recall an article about Dr. Tom White, a national class runner and physician himself, when faced amputation after an accident exclaimed: "Doc, I'm a runner!...Save my foot. Please save my foot!"

Dr. White would go through many years of pain and suffering to come to the conclusion that amputation was the best possible outcome for him. He simply did not know, or was able to understand, that loss of limb does not mean loss of life, it preserves and can enhance life far beyond anything one can imagine.

My surgeon, Dr. Blake Ohlson, never made me feel like the doofus I can be on occasion. The fact that I thoroughly researched the history of the Ertl procedure, knew that with a prosthetic foot I could run again, and, I think, my outlook was positive with an intense desire for success, made us know this needed to be done. I did not want it, but not having it was a far worse alternative.

I know my decision has helped others struggling with this choice - for some it may seem like a no-win situation. Far from it, this is NOT true and there are many stories of miraculous success that stand as solid proof. The typical story is not that a person regrets having the amputation, only that they regret not having it sooner.

*******

Kelly Luckett, multiple Boston finisher, ultramarathoner, mentor

For once in my life I feel I have made a real difference not only in my own life but in others. Although I knew failure - or worse - could befall me, I don't think I ever dwelled on the negative. There is no place to go but down doing that, and I found myself pleasantly amazed how a positive outlook bred more positive results. No matter how bad things may get, gazing into the darkness holds no hope of coming into the light.

********

Scott Rigsby undergoing reconstructive foot surgery

Scott Rigsby lost one foot at the time of his accident, then chose elective amputation when a reconstructed foot proved to be nothing but a painful remainder of the accident and loss of his athletic ability. Many surgeries and recoveries racked with infections had no end in sight; he then chose what some surgeons would consider unthinkable, to have the foot removed.

Scott then did The Unthinkable, and became the first bilateral amputee finisher of the Hawaiian Ironman competition.

Scott Rigsby, you are an IronMan!

*******

The driving force behind this post are people who have contacted me through this blog who are researching and deciding on elective amputation. In most case these folks have far worse injuries than mine; they are in excruciating pain and on high levels of painkillers/narcotics just to get through the day. Some are unable to work or enjoy any semblance of a normal life. Several have had many surgeries only to face more and more that will not ease their pain and possibly/likely increase their discomfort. Every surgery is another chance for complications to set in from infections to more tragic results. I know suicide has an appeal to some, to end the pain and suffering at the hands of...yes, the one who has sworn an oath to do no harm.

The absolute tragedy and inexplicable behavior by some - not all - physicians is telling a patient that they are crazy to want amputation, in fact they need to have a psychological evaluation for suggesting such a thing. The patient should want 10, 15, 25 or more surgeries to "fix" the condition that will never be corrected, never mind each surgery brings risks as well as trauma to the body and spirit. Ask these surgeons if they can "fix" the patient and you will get sidesteps and indeterminate answers at best. They cannot promise on any level that anything approaching normal mobility will be possible when dealing with crushed feet, missing heels, mangled limbs.

Certainly an able-bodied person without any injury who wants amputation as some sick form of mutilation needs to be evaluated and possibly committed, but hopeful anyone with an ounce of common sense can differentiate this from a person in an aircraft crash and a damaged leg, or suffering from a nerve condition where they feel nothing so they unintentionally destroy their legs as their feet flop about.

The patient is to be satisfied to live a life in wheelchair or scooter, on crutches or a walker, in unwieldy braces or orthoses, all to save a useless and painful limb because the physician believes this is the best possible outcome. It is the doctor's implicit belief that being on high level of pain medication is the best protocol, the side affects and addiction are acceptable results, and that loss of a limb is the same as a lost life.

Placing the patient in a brace or orthosis will cause the body to compensate, putting inbalances in place that can and will cause additional problems to the "good side" in a unilateral patient. As the "bad side" atrophies it may take years to recover from the losses. Then even if amputation were to occur the patient might have problems caused by the efforts to stave it off in the interest of protocol. Note I am not talking about minor injuries, but patients who have had significant trauma or other condition that has caused them to seek amputation as relief. My initial accident was not a cause for amputation at the time, it was the effect of arthritis destroying my joint that ultimately lead to my decision.

As living, breathing truth, I am here to tell you it is wrong and borders on incompetence for a physician to insinuate that someone with a damaged limb is crazy to want to discuss and have amputation. A loss limb is not a loss of life, far from it. Done under the skilled hands of a talented surgeon, a loss limb is often the best possible outcome, for it ends the life racked by pain. Narcotics and their destructive properties to organs are terminated. Finally, with a modern prosthesis, there is little to nothing a person cannot do. Mow the lawn again? Check? Play in an orchestra? Check. Go snowing boarding or skiing? Yep! Golf, scuba dive, drive the car? Check, check, and check.

Run a marathon? Become an Ironman? Climb Mt. Everest? All true.

Cadie Jessup (center) in mountain climbing training

So who is the madman, the physician who would sentence - and I mean that literally - their patient to a life of surgeries, to pain, to narcotics, to lack of mobility? Or is it the patient who wants an end to this madness and to have their lives back, to live again? Who indeed.

Physician, check your premises. If you are unable to help your patient, refer them to someone who can. It may be ironic, but losing a limb may be gaining a life. This is particularly true for anyone who wants to be active again, who has dreams and goals as a human being, who knows every life is sacred and none are to be flippantly tossed aside into the 'good enough' trash heap of the uncaring. It is not my intention to be contentious here, but having seen and heard from people in constant pain because their doctors refuse to help them causes me to bring this into the open.

There is music to be played, races to be run, mountains to be scaled, life to be loved.

And on this Father's Day, catch to be played with a child someday.

Let them live.

The unstoppable Jason Gunter

All American 5K 2011 - The Race

2011-06-10T18:09:00.006-04:00

All proceeds went to IFOPA

Just one week after attending the 2011 Getting2Tri National Paratriathlon Camp, which will have a separate blog post soon, we drove back to the Atlanta area for the All American 5k. This race honors local heroes, the prior year was run to benefit Dan Berschinski, and this year's race honored our dear friend Ashley Kurpiel.

We took a circuitous route to Peachtree City (PTC) for the race, through Buford Georgia to visit my prosthetist, ProCare, for a quick checkup and to discuss a new walking prosthesis to replace my original, thermoplastic test socket. (This is the same foot I ran the Cooper River Bridge Run in 2010.) Jennifer had not seen their facility and I was anxious to show her where the magic happens. Scott Rigsby, who is a friend and mentor to me and many others, happened to be there and we got to spend a few minutes getting reacquainted before we met with Stephen Schulte and his staff to discuss our plans.

Lauri Buell, Ashley, Bob Truhe

We then made the dash around Atlanta to PTC, the first visit there for either of us. Fortunately we weren't held up too long in traffic and would be able to have dinner with Carol and Ashley. As we parked and got out of the car, we met the race director who was just leaving. She asked if we were runners and told us about the race, which made us smile to tell them we had come to PTC for this very event.

Although this was the first time we met Ashley's adoptive mom, to me it seemed we were old friends with much catching up to do. I'm always impressed with all the people Ashley knows, I am quite certain if she went on an excursion to the north pole, she would meet someone she knows there. "Mr. Claus, your friend Ashley has dropped in to see you."

PTC is perfect for Ashley, because the entire community is built to get around in golf carts. She drives like a Formula 1 racer, in fact, "some say The Stig learned to drive from Ashley." The place has a rolling terrain that would test these lowcountry runners as well as some unexpected cart tunnels we would run through. The race day weather forecast was not horrid either; although warming up it would not enter the stifling category.

From left, Woody Thornton, Kate Tamblyn, Eileen Tamblyn, Brian Johnston, Ashley Kurpiel, Me (tall one), Brennan Johnston, Michael Thompson

Woody is a friend of Ashley's and a bilateral amputee; he told me his training had been minimal but ran his second fastest 5k today. At Getting2Tri camp, I was Eileen's volunteer handler. Eileen had been a marathoner before she lost her limb, and is now on her way to becoming 26.2er again. Brian and Brennan ran as a team of sorts; Brennan's prosthesis was causing him some issues so Brian hosted him on his shoulders and they finished together. Michael, also of PTC, did a run/walk.

Master of Ceremonies Ashley at starting line

There were about 400 runners and walkers for this race, the start being near "The Fred" or the Frederick Brown Junior Amphitheater. We received a choice of tee shirt or hat, I opted for the hat as I plan to make future use of it. I felt good during my warmups, Jato was responding nicely. My only angst was how I was going to handle any steep hills; for the most part none were too bad but the tunnels were another story.

Carol, Ashley & me

After a beautiful rendition of the National Anthem and a few words about the course, we were off. One of the steeper downhills was here at the start; then a right turn and an uphill. I was running comfortably; I can usually tell what kind of race I will have by a quarter mile. This did not feel like a PR day although my training says I am ready to do that now. Mile one was 7:53 and would be my fastest. Mile two was mostly cart paths, twisting and turning with many creases in the asphalt where tree roots were trying to push through. I had to pay attention to my steps and adjust my gait often.

I don't recall exactly where the tunnels came into play, but I was not expecting them. The cart paths go under some roads, and coming from the light into the darkness made visibility difficult. I slowed to a shuffle because I could not see the footing at all, and was taking no chances on falling and injuring myself. I finished mile two in 8:11, a bit surprised it was not slower but mile 3 would fix that.

Indeed I was slowing as my body and the morning heated up. I was damn happy this was a 5k and the end was near (!). There was one short, steep uphill near the end of the mile that nearly convinced me to take a couple of walking steps, which I mightily managed to resist. Finally mile three and I had slowed down to 8:27 pace and glad we only had a tenth of a mile to go.

I ran strong up to the finish line, seeing Ashley on the left helped remove the running distress. I glance at the race clock and I see 25:31, 25:30 on my watch. The PR would have to wait for another day. Once I recover a bit I go watch other finishers with Ashley and wait for Jennifer. We see Woody finish, very strong on his dual Cheetahs a la Pistorius, and under 30 minutes. Jennifer comes in a few minutes later, a solid effort, and we head back to the start area.

What did we do before smartphones?

We enjoyed getting to talk to some of the folks we already knew and getting to know new friends too. Plans were made for the after party party, which would be a nearby restaurant for breakfast. The awards were in 10 year increments, and for us older, wiser ones this usually means an unsuccessful trip to the hardware store. Jennifer had a great showing at 11/28 in her AG, and I was 8/21 in mine.

Unbeknownst to me, there was an additional award for the "fastest inspirational runner." Yes, my throat grew tight and my eyes a bit damp when my name was announced. I did a decent good job holding it together as my dear friend and source of bright inspiration Ashley Kurpiel handed me a trophy. Well, well.

Michael Thompson and moi, 3 legged race?

We took lots more pictures and chatted until nearly everyone was gone, then we headed out for breakfast. Jennifer and I sat at the end of the table with Carol and heard more of Ashley's journey through her amazing life. In my most humble opinion, this woman's life would make for one incredible movie, although it would be a monumental task distilling it into that format.

Carol spoke with almost reverent respect for someone who has worked tirelessly and with utmost compassion for FOP kids, Dr. Fred Kaplan. His efforts may soon be bearing the fruit of clinical trials that may derail FOP in its tracks; a scientific paper is here describing the research. It is not the cure but it could stop the formation of bone growth in the individuals who have FOP.

Wow!

*******

Jennifer and I also had dinner with Carol and Ashley on Saturday. Afterward Ashley became our tour driver as we hopped in the golf cart for a ride to the lake to watch the sunset, hence generating my earlier comments about her professional driving skills. It was a beautiful evening, the sky gorgeous in the changing light, a perfect ending to a perfect day.


Sunset at Peachtree City

Time and time again I have thought...what if...what if my life had been different, on that morning so many years ago, what if I had not run after the bus, or stood in the other line. If I could go back, change my life's path, and never experience all that I have experienced?

That long road would end here, at this sunset, with friends without equal.

I would not change a thing.

All American 5K 2011

2011-05-28T07:01:00.000-04:00

We are getting our game faces on for the All-American 5k in Peachtree City, GA! Race report to follow soon:

CRBR 2011

2011-05-05T19:08:00.002-04:00

I have to admit, I had higher hopes for this year's edition of this lowcountry classic. We (my former prosthetist Larry Wiley and myself) had talked to the Cooper River Bridge Run race director about having a mobility impaired division for this event. Everything seemed on track to make this the race where amputees would be on equal, uh, footing as the wheelchair racers, not necessarily receiving awards but having the results separated from the able-bodied athletes.

This was not to be. It turned out any group could create a team, and even these did not appear in the official results. In the end it takes a runner to understand running and how much it means to be a runner. Being on the other side of the fence allows me to see what I did not see before, and that is what I hoped to change as an amputee. It takes more than words and promises to make things happen, it takes action. I have heard things may change next year; given I plan to run Boston near the time of this race I may not be running the 2012 edition but we will see.

*******

It was my goal to be able to run under 50 minutes for this race, thinking back when I started training for the Charleston Marathon last year that I would have a great base of mileage to transition to speedwork. As followers of this blog know, that was not to be. I did get in some quality 10k training and lowered my amp PR on this challenging course, so I am pleased with that progress.

King Street Pic 1

King Street Pic 2

Where's Waldo?

There he is.

*******

When you look at the above pics you might notice a guy with a prosthesis. What you don't see are the athletes dealing with other issues, invisible things, often far more disabling than a missing foot. One such person is my sister-in-law, Nancy Starrett. Nancy is the wife of Jennifer's brother Gary, and they live in Colorado where we visit and run the Bolder Boulder 10k on occasion.

Me, Jennifer, Connor, Nancy, Princess Becca, Mistah Chris

Nancy has scoliosis. She endured two very invasive surgeries as part of a procedure to give her relief from a condition that was worsening and affecting her quality of life. Her activity level was severely diminished and she had to make a difficult decision. She chose surgery that would arrest the curving of her spine and help straighten her back. This meant two titanium rods would be implanted along her spine and screwed into the vertebrae; the pic below shows what no one sees.

Titanium Spine

Nancy's post-op surgery was not without complications. Fluid seeped into her lungs and several times she had to have them pumped out. To know Nancy is to know she complains little, so when she says it hurts most of us would be headed to the ER in an ambulance.

There seems to one area around a single screw that is causing Nancy significant discomfort. It may be a bursa has developed and she is considering getting a cortisone shot for some pain relief. She had not had this done yet at the CRBR, yet walked the entire 10k, I believe about a mile further than she had walked before.

Nancy remains in discomfort, painkillers only masking the problem. I am hoping she receives the okay to have her shot soon and that it will begin to dissolve this one barrier to a better life.

I doubt Nancy will ever become a poster child for Pearl Izumi, but they could gain wisdom from her. Whether we run, jog, walk, crawl, push a wheelchair, or simply dream we could do any of these things, many do all they can and far more than most in their situation. Nancy does, she is an inspiration to me, and underlines that simple mantra:

Never Quit.

See Root City

2011-04-23T10:32:00.005-04:00

Down and dirty

Saturday, April 9, I ran something different, a 9+ mile race:

"The portion of the Palmetto Trail that we will be running on is The Awendaw Passage. This is the coastal terminus of the Palmetto Trail, ending at the intracoastal waterway, the "sea" part of the Mountain-to-the Sea Trail. This is also where you'll see palmetto trees along the trail. The trail follows Awendaw Creek through a maritime forest and offers sweeping vistas of the salt marsh. The trailhead at Buck Hall National Recreation Area provides parking and bathroom facilities for trail users. A portion of the proceeds from this event will be donated to The Palmetto Conservation Foundation for trail maintenance."

The race is put on by Eagle Endurance, the founder and organizer being Chad Hoffa, a fireman here in Mount Pleasant. As an aside, I use to run by his fire station as an able-bodied runner, haven't been that way in a while. Chad brings something different to local races and I am enjoying exploring the new venues he is opening to us. In my last few years of able-bodied running I had to stop running on uneven terrain, my ankle simply would not tolerate it. I ran quite a bit in my youth on a dirt road back through the soybean fields and clay mine in Summerville, and it is something I missed being able to do.

After the Cooper River Bridge Run - and I need to do a post on that race - I came down with a head cold and decided to take some time off. On Friday I ran 3 miles and felt okay, not 100% but I really wanted to do this race so I gave myself the okay to hit the trail.

Start of race, Palmetto tree at left

This race started with the oldest first separated with one minute intervals; so not exactly age graded times but did give us seasoned runners more of a chance against the kids. With around 9 other events vying for attention this weekend, our field was small but that made for more camaraderie. The volunteers were super and it was a very relaxed atmosphere.

I started as the only male with 3 or 4 women in my group. We made a circle around the parking lot and headed down a boardwalk past the terminus Palmetto Tree of the Palmetto Trail. The first mile was the easiest footing-wise and would be my fastest. There were no mile markers so I used my Garmin for splits and it worked well in the forest. The trail was twisting and the footing constantly changing; there were also some sort of grating in stretches. This proved nearly impossible to run on with my blade so I had to run as best I could on the sides of the path.

As the miles wore on, there were places where the roots and pinestraw made my footing more treacherous and it simply was not possible for me to run very fast if at all. Soon the heat - which would see a record high this day - would conspire with the humidity to make me think of lobsters boiling in pots. In many places I was running alone, in the trees, a blue sky above, and across boardwalks where I could briefly take my concentration off my footing and look out into the mist laying low on the marsh grass.

I am struggling at the halfway turnaround, sweating profusely and knowing I'd have the same roots to contend with on the trip back. I am passed by many runners and pass few and possibly those re-passed me later. I walked over some of the more difficult places; it was a challenge to constantly speed up, slow down, step over this root, out of that mudhole and stay vertical. I stumbled numerous times but never fell, about the best I could do this day.

Sunshine on my shoulders....

As I ran along by myself I thought it would be nice to come back here to run just for the fun of it. The horsefly that was buzzing around my head agreed, and suggested that the return visit be soon, his very last words I believe as I slapped the back of my head.

My pace continued to slow as the air turned to the consistency of molasses and the sweat faucet on my visor began a steady drip drip drip off the bill. Back across the grates as finally the last miles were covered, an occasional walk to take in fluids and GU as dehydration was building. I didn't like how quickly my pace slowed, especially considering I had run so much faster in my last half marathons, but some days are just better than others, and this race course was far different from those.

Near the finish the volunteers (thanks Peggy!) gave me a lift, calling out my name as I ran across the main road and headed to the beginning boardwalk. I could see the race finish on the other side of the trees as I listened to the different sounds of my footstrikes on the wood, slap, tock, slap, tock, slap, tock. I managed to finish strong and quickly down Gatorade and water as the sweat poured off my clothes.

The top 3 awards went to some of the usual suspects, no real surprises there. It was great talking to other runners afterward, one man slightly younger than me ran extremely well in the race, having only started running again in recent years and showing signs of tremendous talent. Several talk about upcoming ultra trail races, nothing I plan to do but who knows what the future may bring. I still plan to work on basic speed for now, as I know there is more in these 1 ½ legs than they are letting on.

This race was a lot of fun, always more so upon reflection, and I look forward to being able to participate in trail runs in the future. I am thinking of the trails around Bass Lake at Blowing Rock, and how I was unable to run them in my later bad ankle years, and thinking how I would like to run them again.

And I will, remembering.

March Races

2011-04-07T19:18:00.001-04:00

I ran a couple of 5ks in March before the Cooper River Bridge Run, the Flowertown races on March 12 and Catch the Leprechaun 5k on St. Paddy's Day. I have run Flowertown many times in the past as an able-bodied runner in Summerville, SC, once a small town and now with the population that would qualify it for city status. My times of 26:09 (26:04 watch) 4/15 AG and 25:36 (25:28 watch) 10/20 AG aren't quite what I know I am capable of, but have to realize I have just gotten back into the swing of training post-marathon. Both races are deserving of reports, but I won't have time to do them justice this time around.

*******

33rd FLOWERTOWN FESTIVAL 5K RUN-PRESENTED BY SUMMERVILLE FAMILY YMCA SUMMERVILLE, SC MARCH 12, 2011

USATF Certified Course #SC11012BS

Results Compiled by Race Management Systems(RMS),www.rmssports.com

Place Div/Tot Name Age S City St Time Pace

99/638 4/15 Richard Blalock 58 M Mt. Pleasant SC 26:09 8:25

*****

Flying with feet off the ground! (Pic by Dan Clapper)

Catch the Leprechaun

March 17, 2011

All Finishers Report as of 3/22/2011 12:17:38 AM

Place Name Total Pace Age City

166/693 RICHARD BLALOCK 25:36 8:15 58 MT PLEASANT SC

*******

I am very much looking forward to training this summer, getting my mileage back up and working on leg speed and form. I had developed a system of cycles for myself as an able-bodied runner that I plan to employ once again with some slight variations. Having goals, including many small ones, help us reach larger ones. Time to take another step forward.

You can get there from here.

Bridge Run Redux

2011-03-30T20:54:00.012-04:00

I wrote an article for the Cooper River Bridge Run (CRBR) online magazine you can find here. It was much condensed so I thought I'd post my original version below. It was my intent to relay some of the themes of this blog while remembering my first bridge run ever...as an amputee. My blog post about the 2010 CRBR is here.

*******

I am standing on two good feet at a place I was told I would never be again. It is chilly and overcast and I am trying to keep warm, hands under arms, looking out on a sea of faces. All colors, sizes, shapes; a forty thousand voice chorus in a harmony of purpose.

It is the starting line of the 2010 Cooper River Bridge Run.

It is a good day to run.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

- Sir Paul McCartney

Thoughts flood my mind, some I embrace, others are too strong and I put them away. This will be my first CRBR as a new runner, the old one now a living memory. When I thought I could love running no more, it left only to return to show me more than I could have possibly imagined, could not have imagined had I not gone down this path.

Our sweet national anthem is sung, and in my odd configuration only my right leg has intense goose bumps. Then we are running, the ebb and flow as we find our pace. I tap a shoulder to steady myself as my right foot, made of plastic, carbon fiber, and stainless steel, is slow to brake.

We rise above the harbor, flying above the gulls searching below. Up. Up. Up. Cresting the Cooper River, we turn into the city, waves of footsteps beating the pavement like wings of birds in migration. I hear voices of encouragement that drive me forward. Faster. Higher. Stronger. Embrace this day, this gift. Life.

“Now I will turn the miracle into routine. The amazing will be seen every day.”

- Yann Martel

I cross the finish line and do not quite believe the time I have run. A small wow escapes me. In less than one year after my foot amputation, I have crossed this river, run this bridge, become this new runner. One race ends, another begins. Imagine what you can do, then do it. Because you can.

Fly.

Pink Moon

2011-03-19T14:28:00.003-04:00

Friday was to be an easy run for me, which usually means a couple of miles on the treadmill and then a trot around the neighborhood. From Andy Paras on Twitter, I got this link about what was to happen that night, so the thought hatched that a good place to see this event would be from the Ravenel bridge, aka the Cooper River Bridge, the very one we will be doing a 10k over on April 2.

I stayed busy most of Friday, getting off work at noon and then doing a few errands before heading home. Later in the afternoon I took Baxter to "Fetch Field" as I have hereby named it, and we played for a while so the little doggie could enjoy his sprints and burn off some energy. He is a joy to watch flying after his tennis ball, often catching it on the bounce and impatient to have it tossed again.

Back home I thought about my run and whether or not it would be easier just to do it there instead of driving into town. There wasn't much enthusiasm to get on the treadmill; it would be cooling off nicely in the evening and the thought of running on the bridge, perhaps a bit crowded, gave me an unexpected rush of anticipation. Okay, that's decided, I will do it.

Jennifer is in Illinois so would not be running with me. She had gone to be with daughter Becca who is expecting their first child any day now, but once there an unwelcomed development occurred...son John Ryan developed chest pains and had to be taken to the hospital. Apparently a respiratory infection had spread to his heart and caused what was thought might be a heart attack. Scary, scary stuff. John Ryan is resting in the hospital as I write this and will be released once his pains have subsided.

*******

As I drove over to Waterfront Park I knew this was the run I needed to do and was happy I had not trudged it out at home. Got out of the Pilot, set my Garmin to do autolaps every mile, and took off.

It was already dark, but plenty of lighting from the park and bridge. As I ran up the concrete trail - and all of tonight's run would be on concrete - I saw a sign "Beware of coyotes." Good for a one footed guy to know, I suppose, and wouldn't the coyotes to be surprised and sad to find their meal would be a foot short for the pack.

There are bike and pedestrian lanes clearly marked, and equally clearly disregarded by many walkers there. I decided early on the ignore the ignorant, I get enough of that at the town tracks. Run, just run, enjoy the night.

And I did.

Climbing up the first span I was in a good rhythm. This was an easy run, and the climbs and descents would provide a little more effort but I was determined to keep it comfortable. As I crested the main span I stopped for a few minutes to take in the scenery.

Glorious, glorious. Some orange, yellows, purples, and pinks in the west, and behind me the old man in the moon was speaking volumes. The thought crossed my mind how beyond amazing this all was, how no one could possibly take it all in. You could live a lifetime in these few minutes and not be cheated of a single second.

Saw it written and I saw it say

Pink moon is on its way

And none of you stand so tall

Pink Moon gonna get ye all

And it's a pink moon

As gravity led me down to Charleston, the stiff wind made me careful to watch my step. Although it was dark, I was expecting more people on the bridge; it was relatively deserted which suited me fine, thank you. Down to East Bay and another half mile or so to make 3. No one at all here and I was running very comfortably...hold it down fella, you have speedwork tomorrow and will want fresh legs.

I turn around and head back to Mount Pleasant, now I can look back from where I came and love to see the distance traveled across the Cooper River. A train is moving through the terminal yard, mechanical and rail sounds harmonizing with the a cappella highway traffic. In the distance a siren wails.

And the moon.

Yes, a pink moon

Pink, pink, pink, pink, pink moon

Up. Up.

Now we rise and we are everywhere

I remembered "Pink Moon" from our college radio station in the early 70s, and wondered why I didn't buy the album back then. Working on projects late at night, it was one that I always expected and often heard. Maybe it needed to stay untouched in that time of my life.

Until this morning I didn't know about Nick Drake's life, and was sorry it had ended tragically. That someone of such brilliance had lost his way and no one could reach out to bring him back. Perhaps in some situations this is the way of life - and death - but I refuse to believe one cannot know both the depths and heights this life has to offer without ending it before the short lease closes on us all.

I saw it written and I saw it say

Pink moon is on its way

And none of you stand so tall

Pink moon gonna get ye all

And it's a pink moon

Yes, a pink moon

The wind was blowing harder as I took a couple of unsteady pictures with my phone's camera, knowing I'd likely lose the sharp features of the old man's face, but god what a sight, how utterly incomprehensible all this is, this life, our miracle.

I did not want to leave.

Not yet.

*******

As I was writing this post this morning, I came across something astounding. It made me wonder - what if he could have found what we have found in running, this release and meditation, the holiness of life, indeed, the near and the far:

"In 1957, Drake enrolled at Eagle House School, an English preparatory boarding school in Berkshire. Five years later, he went on to public school at Marlborough College in Wiltshire, where his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had all attended. He developed an interest in sport, becoming an accomplished sprinter (his record for the 100-yard dash still stands)..."

(This post dedicated to the memory of Nick Drake, musician and runner, June 19, 1948 – November 25, 1974)

My Medical Stash

2011-03-14T20:53:00.001-04:00

A few of my (least) favorite things

These are the multitude of supplies I've used - and then some - as I've been involved in The Battle of the Socket. I had no used any of these since my marathon and technically still haven't, but did use a band-aid today from the office on the back of my knee. It is one of the two places my liner bunches up. This happened in my old pre-vacuum socket in several places, but over time the skin seemed to accommodate the pinching with some help from Aquaphor. I suspect the same will hold true this time.

Owie tattoo from socket

I have gone longer than ever before with such an injury; I also had my first (left!) foot blister a week ago since my amputation. So whereas blisters are unwelcomed, having the ability to actually get a blister from running is truly spectacular!

*******

I know I have taken a short break from blogging. It really wasn't voluntary, I think with all I have been through with culminating with the marathon finish, I just needed a break for a battery recharge.

I've been talking to several people considering elective amputation, which has given me pause to think over what I feel I need to say to those, like me, who want their lives back, free of pain and drugs and neverending surgeries. If only medicine looked as far ahead as is does backward sometimes...I am shocked at the absolute medieval practices that is still employed in the OR. To believe that a life on painkillers, every increasing in strength to ward off the paranoid monster that is pain, is somehow preferably to a life without a limb...and pain's constant companionship. More on this later, but part of the reason of my absence here.

Life calls, do not miss it.

Dream Be Reality

2011-02-13T00:54:00.004-05:00

I'm in Buford Georgia as I start writing this, waiting for noon before I go to ProCare to get Jato a tune-up, or, as I like to think of it, a blade sharpening. I got in very late and didn't go to sleep until after midnight, and then had a vivid dream that was been on my mind ever since.

In the dream I was at a race, not any one that I recall specifically but more like elements of the Myrtle Beach half and the Charleston Marathon. I started way in the back; there was a separate start for faster runners and then another for everyone else including walkers. This part of the dream was much like the Myrtle Beach course as we made two left turns after the start and I recall having to negotiate around many walkers who obviously had no idea what they were doing.

In my dream I am an amputee. In the few running dreams I've had since losing my foot I am always an amputee, never able-bodied. This is who I am. The thing I think about is since my brain knows for a fact I have no right foot, that some of the science of phantom pain might need some reconsideration of the notion the mind needs to be "taught" that the limb is gone. Without delving into this subject too deeply, I believe it is not unlike muscle memory that the severed nerve endings are experiencing. They are reporting something afoot is amiss, and the brain says "yeah, what do you want me to do about it," and the nerves respond with "I dunno, you are brains of this organization, say something." And that something is phantom pain or phantom sensation. I am not so sure it dulls over time as much as an acceptance and then an ignoring of the signals.

But I digress. As we start this dream race, I am weaving my way from the back of the pack around the walkers and a few runners. My prosthesis feels wonderful, I am aware of it but not a single hotspot, no friction; just the feeling of my residual limb clad in this artificial appendage. I find myself running faster, too fast I think, passing many people and I feel more like my quicker, able-bodied self before the ankle pain stole that joy from me. There is no effort whatsoever to my running, breathing is easy and I am flying. Flying. It feels so good, this very thing we may nearly feel on our best running days.

As I am running it is now as if I am watching myself from above, still feeling the effortless motion of my body. To my right I see Ashley and Carol Kurpiel. They are smiling and it looks like they are at a New Year's celebration, confetti in the form large white paper pages is floating down and there are others enjoying the festivity. I then see they are being televised and I am happy that they are getting this publicity, because I am hopeful it will bring more donations to our cause, to cure FOP.

When I wake I realize a big difference in this dream and all my other prior running dreams. In earlier dreams I have that effortless feeling, but am often leading a race, far out in front. Then I get lost, or the course changes into some office or store maze I try to work through, and I am thinking I feel so good...it is a shame to be lost and having to run slower because I do not know my way.

In this dream I am not lost at all, I know my place and I am happy and content and don't feel apart from everyone else. It is a nice dream. A wonderful dream.

And I live it now.

To Boston - Charleston Marathon Part VII

2011-01-31T18:59:00.005-05:00

It did not occur to me until some later in the day on January 15 that I had qualified for the Boston Marathon as a Mobility Impaired runner. Assuming I can get registered, I will be on the starting line for the April 16, 2012 race. Mobility Impaired runners start first at Boston, not given second citizen status or none at all at other races. They have their results posted for their division.

Like many runners, I had sought the golden Boston Qualifier (BQ) as an able-bodied runner, missing it by a little over 7 minutes in 1997 and never getting any closer. It seems running has given me one of its prized jewels as a gift. I suppose the the running gods thought their little SAG wagon joke was just a little over the top and felt this was just compensation.

*******

A word on my prosthesis: despite the problems I had it was a still a successful learning experience, a trial by fire, the type I will not soon forget. You bet I will have some sleeve repair material and a spare at the ready at future races. What was incredible to me was my residual looked amazing after the marathon, no cuts or swelling or red friction spots, nothing other than what looked like a little heat rash well above my knee.

There will be some fine tuning required, but I am hopeful that things will only improve. Many things may have gone wrong on race day, but the most important decision I made was the correct one. Thanks to Stephen Schulte and the professionals at ProCare for providing some extreme technology quite literally overnight that allowed me to run this marathon. I doff my socket to you!

Also thanks to Scott Rigsby, Jason Gunter, and Kelly Luckett; amputees who helped direct me to the path as I stumbled around in the forest. You guys are giants of inspiration, courage, and fortitude. What a lucky man I am to have come to know you.

*******

We raised over $2000 for the IFOPA. My goal was $5000, one I thought was a bit ambitious but certainly not impossible. So it is on to Boston, and I will run once again for IFOPA, for Ashley Kurpiel, and for everyone affected by the disease.

Ashley will be hosting a 5k race in the Atlanta area this spring to raise money for IFOPA, so please come run, walk, or volunteer if can. Say hi to Ashley and we will see YOU there.

*******

There were many, many people who helped me achieve this dream. Please know I cherish the support in emails, tweets, posts, donations, and moral support. My gratitude is neverending.

I wrote how alone I was for much of the second half of the marathon, but my friend Tom DeSee said: "you were NEVER alone bro!" He was right a thousand times over. You were there.

***

Here is a chapter closed and another one opened. As my friend Pi has guided me from the beginning, I hope you will turn the miracle into routine, and let the amazing be seen every day.

Yours in running, forever,

- Richard

Every, every minute - Charleston Marathon Part VI

2011-01-31T18:53:00.001-05:00

Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?--every, every minute?

No. Saints and poets, maybe--they do some.

- Thorton Wilder "Our Town"

Being an occasional poet and knowing some saints, I can say without reservation or fear of sudden, inexplicable death that January 15, 2011 was one day that I realized life, every, every minute.

Where two became two

The other day was December 31, 1998 when I married Jennifer. Our families were intact with the exception of my dad who has passed 10 years earlier. It was just a perfect day, an idyllic setting in Rockville for our ceremony. Our dinner cruise in the Charleston harbor came complete with a glorious sunset.

These are the days of the endless summer
These are the days, the time is now
There is no past, there's only future
There's only here, there's only now

- Van Morrison

*******

"Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you."

- Thorton Wilder "Our Town"

The Near and The Far - Charleston Marathon Part V

2011-01-30T10:16:00.009-05:00

Just past mile 20

I would not have given this runner much of a chance to finish this race had I been able to step outside myself at where I had been and how far I had to go. My thoughts were becoming more and more simplistic as the fatigue mounted and the mind focused on one thing: running.

Check your pump...still holding vacuum...I'll take my gels every 4 miles and fill my bottle whenever I can to make sure I have fluids at the end should they run out...I hear music...the next mile marker should be coming up soon...hey...I see a former coworker and her husband, Mariann and Danny Chritton.

And then at about the 11 1/2 mile mark something good happens. The steenkin' SAG bus has stopped completely. I see runners coming from the other direction, marathoners who have run about 8 miles further than me on their way out to another part of the course. For a moment I am not certain which way to go, but then a police officer and some volunteers indicate I should go to the opposite side of the road where suddenly the course becomes very lonely.

*******

Into old North Charleston and I hear the Mike Wolk Jazz Group playing. Mike is 'in the groove' and I cannot get his attention, but think if he's still here on the return trip I'll try again.

We outbound marathoners are few and far between, many more on the other side of the road heading for the barn. We are now at mile 12; they are over 19. My pace has slowed from the great bus chase and I try to conserve energy as much as possible, shorter stride, run relaxed, one mile at a time.

For the next few miles I am able to make the 26.2 an abstraction, for if I consider how far I have to go I think it would overwhelm me. My brain is shirking all extraneous thoughts. There is no "Eye of the Tiger" playing in a loop. Occasionally I think "we're gonna get there soon" or "nobody said it would be easy" but not often. It's run as best I can, eat, drink, and eventually another mile peels away.

keep. moving. forward.

It is a welcome sight to come upon the aid stations and jubilant volunteers. I drink in their enthusiasm and support and always take in some fluids. In the back of my mind I have that woebegone SAG wagon haunting me and wanting to make sure I keep my hydration level high.

I have not seen much of this part of North Charleston, there are some depressed areas but I love some of the older neighborhoods, 50s era housing, and mature landscapes. I am also becoming aware of weariness of the body and wonder how long before I will be reduced to walking. My answer comes at mile 17, when I decide I should start with 30s and see how it goes.

*******

My prosthesis feel sloshy but otherwise doesn't threaten to fall off and leave me hopping about on one foot. I pull up my shirt sleeves as I grow warmer and remove my gloves. I am finding the half mile my watch "lost" earlier offers a trick that has been making some miles go by quicker. If I look at my watch and it says 16.3 miles, I am closer to 16.8 miles and the next mile marker. I try not to play this mental trick too often but I am convinced it does help.

Back through old North Charleston and I see Mike again and get his attention. His wife Judy is on the other side of the street walking their dog Wilson. They offer words of support and I speak to Wilson, who gives me a nod of approval. I hear ya brotha. Dog tired I tell ya.

*******

Now at mile 20, the thought flashes in my head and I allow it to burn there a while.

I am going to do this thing. I am going to finish this race.

Into Riverfront Park, quite scenic, but with some uneven surfaces that I take care not to trip on. The band lifts my spirits and we exchange waves and words as I pass. The invigoration lasts for a few more minutes when I feel compelled to walk again. I know I am now climbing The Wall.

I ran the 5k through this part of the course last year, my fourth race as amputee runner, I won 2nd in my AG and gave that trophy to Ashley Kurpiel at G2T camp I wrote about here. For most of this race I have kept my emotions in check, otherwise I would have been dehydrated after the first few miles. In my mind's eye I picture Ashley waiting for me at the finish line, her smiling, joyous face, and even though I know she will not be there in person, I keep take that image from my head and place it in my heart.

Just past mile 21 we enter a 5 mile out and back where runners are on both sides of the road again. There is a good sized, vocal crowd and many people are cheering on their runners. Jato and I make our way down the road, very rough with broken pavement and many railroad tracks. Many throw inspirational words my way and I try to respond with a wave or a smile.

I realize with every step now, it is further than I have ever run before as an amputee, my last long run was 21 miles at the end of November. On the plus side my right hip flexor has mostly kept its complaints to itself, but my left foot is starting to feel a little sore. Nothing bad, just a little 'hey, I'm doing all the work here, that other dog cannot speak!'

*******

At mile 22 the fatigue brings his concrete-shod friends to the party. I am walking for longer periods now, run when I can for as long as I can before the legs demand more rest. I see Carolyn Murray, who calls my name out twice before my brain awakens to hear her. Carolyn is a news reporter for local TV station Channel 2, and she was going to do a story on Ashley until the Atlanta area weather intervened. I was very sorry this did not happen because I knew Ashley's story would be compelling and I so wanted others to hear it.

I trudge forward. These last 4 miles were hard. Very hard. I have never been on my feet running (or run walking!) for over about 4 1/2 hours in my life. I have refused to look at the total time on my watch because I do not want any source of discouragement. This race is to finish. I am going to get there. We are going to get there soon.

There is a curious, squishy noise coming from Jato...there is sweat squirting out of a port on the vacuum pump. My leg is awash with perspiration in the liner and some is running between the socket and the frame and through the pump. If this was not happening there would be no way to avoid stopping as the prosthesis would just be too loose.

*******

And then running shows me something new, something I have seen but not really known, just like the difference in seeing an amputee and being one. We runners are at the very back of the pack. I have been there in high school but that was different, a shorter race with fewer participants.

Some are able to run, some manage a walk, some step aside to stretch a cramping muscle. All have run 5+ hours, all are moving forward, and nearly every single one is encouraging their runner brother or sister on. As tired as I am and unable to process the flood of emotion, it is one of the best feelings as a runner...hell, it is the best feeling as a runner as I've ever had.

It is the sheer magnificence of the human spirit that will not be stopped. I think if we could treat each other like this all our lives in everything we do, how little room there would be for anger or dispute. Each moving forward, each helping the other to that same place: the glory of the finish line.

*******

My face is set to a grim and determined expression. I speak in all modesty as I say this, but I discovered at that moment that I have a fierce will to live. It's not something evident, in my experience. Some of us give up on life with only a resigned sigh. Others fight a little, then lose hope. Still others - and I am one of those - never give up. We fight and we fight and we fight. We fight no matter what the cost of battle, the losses we take, the improbability of success. We fight until the very end. It's not a question of courage. It's something constitutional, an inability to let go.

- Pi, from "The Life of Pi" (Yann Martel)

*******

I am so tired. I am walking more and more. I pass some, walk, they pass me back. Back and forth. Back and forth. Someone says "we've got to stop meeting like this" which makes me smile.

I can only run short periods, maybe 200m at a time, when the legs simply stop running. The mile markers come with excruciating lethargy. It is becoming an effort to speak to other runners who talk to me. In relative terms, these last 4 miles have taken as much time as the first 22. Oh god I am tired.

keep. m o v i n g. f o r w a r      d .

There is an amazing volunteer some distance before mile 25. She chants words of 'You didn't quit! You are such an inspiration! I am so proud of you...' and on and on until I am out of earshot and my eyes are hot with tears.

Come on. You can do this.

The crowds are gone from mile 25 to 26 that were so boisterous on our way out. There are a few groups of families and friends waiting for their beloved marathoner to come into sight. I see no one I know, but they applaud me and I try to run as best I can.

oh. oh. sweet baby jesus     this is hard.

the brain is emptied, there is nothing left but a few running steps, walk. walk. walk.     run.

A left turn and I see the mile 26 marker. I kiss my fingertips, reach up and plant it on the sign. Where have you been all day my friend?

There is a volunteer ahead who motions me to the left. 'Been a long day at the office' I say, knowing my friend Joe would know the meaning.

And there it is in the distance. The banner. Our home. The finish line.

Now I will turn the miracle into routine. The amazing will be seen every day.

- Pi, from "The Life of Pi" (Yann Martel)

*******

I allow the waves of emotion to sweep over me as I pick up my pace. I flash on the those who are there and not there. Jennifer is there and friends Cal and Jannette. I see someone else's broad smile. Ashley, we did it...we did it...we did it...

There are no words for what I am feeling.

It is everything and nothing.

It is death and rebirth.

It is the near and the far.

*******

I cross the finish line, hold my arms up to embrace the day, this gift. Tears of loss and of pure joy. I am home. I hear the words, "Richard Blalock...from Mount Pleasant..."

*****

At moments of wonder, it is easy to avoid small thinking, to entertain thoughts that span the universe, that capture both thunder and tinkle, thick and thin, the near and the far.

- Pi, from "The Life of Pi" (Yann Martel)

*******

My hands are on my knees, there is nothing left. A few steps forward. Hands on knees. Yes, thank you, I am okay. Finish photo. Out the back of the chute.

Jennifer finds me. I do not know if I would have been able to finish today without her help way back at mile 8. I am overcome with gratitude as we embrace and embrace with friends and the tears fall again.

I have finished my first marathon.

Again.

Back to the Start - Charleston Marathon Part IV

2011-01-29T09:09:00.014-05:00

January 15, 2011 - Start of the Inaugural Charleston Marathon

Reunion

Old friend

You have been with me every other step of the way
From first light we stumbled into everyday

As you depart know when time has done his worst
we will laugh and run along the high road
high above the sorrow
high above the pines

and we are flying
with wings

(April 14, 2009)

*******

The first mile of the marathon is the usual congestion, but it does not take very long to clear enough to run one's own pace. The roads in downtown Charleston, even the better ones, often have a lot of dips and depressions owing to the cheese-like fill much of it is built upon. I have to keep an eye on the pavement, made a little tougher because the road is still thick with runners. As we approach White Point Gardens, a.k.a. The Battery, some runners take to the higher seawall and run above us on the left.

I allow myself to think about a day long, long ago, when my dad was taking home movies at this very spot. My mom is holding the newborn brother Mark, so I think this movie was filmed in late November or earlier December 1960. This would make me 6 years old, almost 7. This is the earliest film of yours truly running, and if you were to watch our old home movies. you'd know exactly why I came to run today.

I looked to my right to the memorial where my sister and I played. And there I remembered the little boy, running around this monument so many years ago. And here I am today, fifty years later, still running. With one foot. I do not quit. Ever. This day is sealed.

*******

We head up King Street and I latch onto the 2:30 half marathon pace group. My pace feels like I am holding back, I am running within myself, so I feel good about the day's prospects. Crowd support is better than I expected for a relatively small marathon, and I can tell you the words of encouragement are never lost on me now. Somewhere I realize I have hit the stop/start button on my watch instead of the lap button, and restart it, losing about half a mile in the process. I am not kind to myself in my self-admonitions. Doofus.

My body is already heating up when I notice it seems my prosthesis fit is a little wobbly. I pull over to the side of the road, press a button on the pump, and it turns on. Okay, maybe I managed to turn it off before the race start. It pumps for a while but soon the prosthesis still feels loose, and I can feel sweat building in the liner. I retrieve the fob from my shorts. I turn it on and see the pump is off. I turn it on. It runs and turns off. What the...?

Just run.

I keep monkeying with the fob while I try to decide I should do. I notice a woman wearing a shirt for her mother who had Alzheimer's; I touch her shoulder and said a few words of encouragement. Many of us were running for someone else today.

*******

Now I am completely unfocused from my race. What am I going to do with my pump turned off? My guess is some suction will remain, but I will have to make several stops to remove my prosthesis to dump the sweat that will accumulate in it. I awkwardly remove the IFOPA singlet and the outermost shirt over my head while running, thinking afterward how I could have fallen when I couldn't see the road for a couple of seconds and how that would have looked to others. Doofus.

Things start to deteriorate. My pump will not stay on and I feel my liner and sleeve slipping down. I yank the sleeve back up, but it short order it slids back down. I start pulling over to the side of the road to adjust the sleeve and liner but I am new to elevated vac and don't know what is causing this unusual behavior. Many runners ask if I need help or if I'm in trouble...thanks, but no, I am having an equipment problem.

One of the people who asks if I need help is a nurse. From my operation to my first mile to my first marathon, nurses have always been there. I wish I could have told her this, but I thanked her and said I was okay, and she ran on.

I take a chance and try to unzip the a pocket to retrieve my phone, managing to partially rip off a fingernail; I look dumbly at it, see it bleeding, and tear if off completely. Ouch. BIG OUCH. I manage to call Stephen, my prosthetist, without further bloodshed. He answers and I tell him as best I can what is going on. Over the next couple of miles while I am running we discuss what might be happening; Stephen is leaning toward a leak somewhere, but I have been unable to find a hole when I stop to adjust the slipping sleeve.

*******

The star marks the moment of truth

Jennifer catches me and asks what is wrong. I tell her my prosthesis feels loose and the vacuum keeps shutting off. Gratefully, she take some of the clothes I have removed as I do not want to lose them. I run ahead for a while and then just before mile 8 I have to stop again. So many runners have passed me by and I am thinking I am getting very close to last place.

I decide to remove my prosthesis, dry everything, and then just run without the vacuum pump operating. I sit on the curb and start to remove my leg, but I cannot find the lotion I need to allow the liner to unroll over itself in order to pull it off. (After the race I find the lotion stuffed in the towel compartment. Arrrgh!) The liner is made from polyurethane; it requires a lotion lubricant to don and doff (put on / take off). Jennifer catches up to me once again and asks if she can help.

At this point I am starting to think there are just too many things working against me today. Jennifer helps me with keeping my prosthesis upright while I root around in my waist pack for the lotion...oh no, it is not there. I am thinking it fell out while I was getting my phone out of the zippered pouch where I thought I placed it. Oh my.

And then adversity pulls out his nasty trump card: the SAG bus passes us by, and we hear someone tell the volunteers they can pack up and leave. I cannot believe what I am hearing.

Jennifer then sees what I could not. There it is, about two inches from the top, a small rip in my liner. This hole is the cause of the leaking and why the vacuum pump cannot hold suction. I roll the top of the liner over the top of itself, start the pump, and it holds. I put it well below the level I should have because the battery is at least half discharged and I don't want it running out of juice since we still have a long way to go.

The SAG bus is about a quarter mile away; Jennifer reminds me that if I cannot finish no one will think the worse of me, that today has gone badly and I can just pull out if I need to.

What comes out of my mouth shocked me with its voracity: "HELL NO! Sorry hon, I am not yelling at you, but I have come too far to stop now. I feel okay except for these leg problems...I am going to go as far as I go, I just can't give up. I just can't."

It occurs to me how my foot came to injured all those years ago as it was crushed by the school bus rear tires. I give chase to the SAG wagon, determined to catch it and leave it behind. I outran the damn pace truck at Parris Island many years ago, surely I can track down the vehicle going at at course closing speed, which is over 17 minutes a mile.

Surely, unless the bus driver has a lead foot, which he did.

As he pulled away, the support tables were being dismantled, and I had no idea how I was going to be able to run 18 more miles with one bottle of Gatorade. Now I became concerned that I would lose my way on the course if the volunteers left...what more was expected of me this day?

I watched the runners ahead of me for turns, eyed the cursed speeding SAG wagon that I could not make ground on despite running much faster than course closing pace, and kept moving forward. My mind was clear of all other distractions, there was no thoughts other than to stay on the course and keep running after the bus.

keep. moving. forward.

Daybreak - Charleston Marathon Part III

2011-01-28T06:34:00.056-05:00

Note to self: wake up with 30 extra minutes to take care of additional amp requirements. You can always manage too much time, nothing good comes from having too little of this precious resource.

First thing, feed the cats and pour the coffee. Done. Now for the bagel, one half with peanut butter and one half with almost butter. Yum.

While I eat on go online for a short period of time while and post something I have done before other races:

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

- Sir Paul McCartney

*******

I try not to think too much of what has been an emotional week for me. Now is the time to ready myself for the day that is to come, to steel myself for this dive into the unknown. I cannot help but think of races under similar, undertrained circumstances. Once in high school after I suffered a severe ankle sprain - likely torn ligaments - and ran the final 880 in my high school season. I stepped off the track a little after the first lap in searing pain. It was my only high school DNF. Many years later, at the Mystic Places Marathon, plantar fasciitis stopped me in my tracks when it felt like I might have ruptured it.

No doubt, I was going to make it to the starting line with a prosthesis I could count on to be comfortable. Finishing was far less certain, and I put that thought out of my mind as best I could, though it circled out on the periphery, anticipating a kill.

Putting on a prosthesis with elevated vac (vacuum) is best left to a future post, but it does take more time to don. The payoff is a great fit, better, more natural limb health, and, if all goes well, not having to take it off to adjust prosthetic socks or worry as much about sweat. It will be well worth the time investment now.

*******

I jog across the living room floor and smile. Yes, this will do nicely, thank you very much. I allow a small glimmer of light to think...maybe...

Jennifer is getting ready and we try to decide exactly what to wear this chilly morning. The temperature would be near freezing at the start but a pleasant low 50s at the finish. Even as I dress I know I am wearing too warm clothing for later in the race, though later at my speed is quite relative.

A singlet on the skin, then 2 long sleeve shirts, the outermost with a zipper, and the IFOPA singlet over that. My Nike "racing" gloves because they are black and have red swooshes; I decide to wear a second layer of throwaway gloves while waiting for the start. Some Adidas compression thigh-length shorts and my trusty Race-Readys over them stuffed with GU Roctane. The Garmin 305 Santa brought me, IFOPA bracelet, Road-ID. Brooks headband and my beloved G2T visor cap. DryMax sock and on my left foot, an Asics Gel-Cumulus shoe with a Terry Fox shoelace. I fix a bottle of Gatorade for my backpack, and place extra prosthetic socks, a small towel, and a tube of lotion in it, the latter for removing my polyethylene liner should I need to.

Jato comes to life as my good right foot this morning. Bzz bzz bzz goes the electric vacuum pump.

The race starts at 8 a.m. We leave the house at 6:45 but I am calm. The morning air is frigid and the sky is a brilliant blue arc, a day in sharp focus as if everything is new and unused. We discussed the size of the field the night before and there shouldn't be any problem with traffic or parking. I send a few tweets as we drive to the race start from Mount Pleasant, one as we cross high above Charleston on the Cooper River Bridge...the lowcountry spans all around us. "It is a good day to run, a beautiful steel blue sky. Let's honor this day. This life. This blessing. This gift."

It was a memory of another morning come to greet us, one during the difficult passing of my sister, when these words came to me:

Icarus Unbound

morning.
the mist embraces my marsh.
sunrise.
up. UP.
run to it.
embrace this day.
this gift

*******

We drive down East Bay Street and make our way to the garage near the city Aquarium. From early race course maps I thought the start was near the Maritime Center, but everyone was walking toward East Bay so we followed the brightly colored flock. The line is near Laurens Street, the marathon race course map is here. Jennifer gets a pre-race photo of the gimp:

Ready to rumble

Port-a-potties are by the Gaillard Auditorium, so we make one last pit stop and then drop off our gear bags. The gear truck is on Laurens Street so we have to make our way through the even more crowded assembly for me to shed my jacket. Back through the throng to our spot near the back of the pack. I am thinking of my frightening lack of training, whether or not I can finish what I am about to start, and what an absolute poser I feel like. What the hell am I doing here? I am being bludgeoned with clubs of doubt.

Scott Rigsby (center) and Ashley Kurpiel (right)

Stop it. Do what you can do, take each mile as it comes, remember what you did to get here. Draw on your vast resource of support. Remember who you are running this race for; someone else is going with you every step of the way. Run for those who cannot, run because you can. It is a good day, a miraculous day to run.

I kiss Jennifer, thinking I may not see her again until the finish, not yet knowing what the day has in store for us. And we're off. I didn't hear the actual start, suddenly we are moving forward, stopping, and surging again as the runners work their way toward the starting mat. I start my watch as I cross this new beginning and we head toward White Point Gardens.

I am running the inaugural Charleston Marathon.

I have started my race.

Nobody said it was easy

Oh, it's such a shame for us to part

Nobody said it was easy

No one ever said it would be so hard

I'm going back to the start

- Coldplay "The Scientist"

Not Any Friday - Charleston Marathon Part II

2011-01-27T07:17:00.004-05:00

Friday would be a busy day, and not at all what one should do before a marathon.

My original plan from was to take Friday off, no work. Run 2 miles, carbo-load, and then stay off my feet, uh, foot as much as possible. It's usually tough to get a good night's sleep before a big race, so I thought getting rest would be very important. I did sleep soundly on Thursday, and that may have prevented a complete meltdown.

I decided I would work on Friday since we close at noon; I had burned off too many excess vacation days and thought working would help keep my mind off tomorrow. Tomorrow. Running 26.2 miles on minimal training. On who knows what leg. TOMORROW. What the hell am I thinking? You get the picture.

While at work I received something mid-morning that caused me to smile and choke back a happy tear right here. I began receiving more tweets and emails and FB notes of support. So much for work distraction. As I've said many times in the past, I have found the support I received since my operation to be more than words. It goes deep down, somewhere in my center, and attaches to my heart.

I also receive a phone call from Mike McKenna. I've written about how I thought I could have never come to know or understand the people I've met since becoming an amputee, those like me or with other disabilities, that it is truly not possible to understand unless you are. I think, though, Mike has an empathy for us, a desire to help, and this he has done in action, not only in words. But the words do mean something to me, and his friendship means a thing that is true.

Thanks Mike.

*******

My new prosthesis was shipped Thursday night and Sheila from ProCare emailed to say she had checked tracking and it was already out for delivery. I wanted to make sure the package was left at the house, so I drove home and, contrary to my current luckless streak, found Jato waiting for his master at the front door. I unboxed my blade, admired the coolness of the carbon fiber frame (Jamey at ProCare does incredible work!) and the ingenious mounting of the LimbLogic VS elevated vacuum pump under the post.

My revised afternoon plan was to purchase a memory card for an HD sports movie camera Jennifer gave me for Christmas. Stephen Schulte at ProCare wanted me to video myself walking and running when I got my prosthesis back so he could do a cursory check of the alignment. But first, a Texas-sized helping of pasta with my mom's homemade spaghetti sauce. One look at the heaping bowl and I thought there was no way I could eat that supersized meal. 10 minutes later and it appeared an invisible army marched through and dismantled it, leaving a cabinet-ready clean dish behind.

I picked up the memory and decided to call ShowOffs and see if my IFOPA race shirt was ready; no, not yet, but it would be ready today and I could come by closer to 5 pm and pick it up. It is now around 3:30; I decide to go home, don Jato, and take some movies of me crossing the living room floor, hoping the few steps will be enough for Stephen to discern any significant alignment problems.

I work with my prosthetic sock fit, and it feels...good. Real good. Like...YAHOO I'M GOING TO WEAR THIS PROSTHESIS AT THE CHARLESTON MARATHON GOOD. There, one indefinite thing now made clear. I make the movies and send them to Stephen in HD, thinking he will view them on on computer, but I think he uses his smartphone and they are just too large to be usable. Later in the evening Jennifer converted the files to a smaller format, and Stephen was able to tell there were no significant alignment issues.

There is a tiny detail though: the vacuum pump operates with either a push of a button on the pump itself, or with a small fob that has a small display that indicates the vacuum level, battery charge, leak sensor, and some other details. The fob was not sent with the prosthesis, so there is not way to check what vacuum level the pump is set to or other details. This data will needed during the marathon and will become more apparent tomorrow.

*******

Jennifer picks up the IFOPA race singlet on her way home for me. A change of clothes, and off to packet pickup and the pasta dinner in North Charleston. The expo is held in a large tent; packets are not put together but it is not much trouble to pick up our race numbers, bus ticket for a return ride to the start, and our technical Charleston Marathon shirts. There are only small and x-large ones available; this should not happen, I suspect others traded sizes and we got whatever was left over.

The pasta dinner was also disappointing and I am glad the Kurpiels missed it. I don't mean to be so negative, but it simply was not very good. I hope they are able to do better at future races as this was one of the lessor dinners I have attended. The volunteers are cheerful and always appreciated for the work they do making any race a success.

While at the dinner I am texting Stephen; he makes some phone calls and finds he can send a fob via Delta Dash. There is a rub: I have to go pick up the package at Charleston International at 10:30 pm. There won't be anywhere close to 8 hours sleep tonight.

Jennifer and I decide to head home from North Charleston to Mt. Pleasant since we can't see spending 3 hours there waiting to go to the airport. I am feeling the first tentacles of fatigue come over me; I have been on the go almost all day and still have to go to the airport. Back home I lay out some clothing choices for the race and get most of the rest of my gear together.

I write some thank yous for the donations we received and then it's off to the airport. Jennifer drives which helps rest my legs and I am thankful for this. The package is waiting - Yay! - and then we drive the 30 minutes back home. This is not how one should be resting for the marathon but there really is no choice. Again, the only blame here is me for waiting so long to make a hard decision. Stephen and Jamey and the ProCare team have worked wonders to get me a great prosthesis in time for the race.

Sometime during the day I lost my anxiousness about all that had been going wrong since after the Kiawah half marathon. I found some peace with myself, knowing despite mounting odds no one was quitting. Not me, not my prosthetist, nor my supportive friends. Indeed, I was going to be on that starting line in the morning. I felt connected in a way that is hard to explain, as if out of so much chaos the universe had embraced me, all of this, this singular challenge that lay ahead. I would meet it; whether I finish it would, in the end, be up to me.

Cutie keeping me company during recovery

Just before midnight Stephen and I got my vacuum levels programmed with the fob and a good thing too, as they were set too low. At 11:38 I wrote to him, "It's a go then. Get some sleep yourself!"

I laid my head on my pillow, at ease with all I had been able to do for tomorrow, and feel asleep. I had vivid dreams, one was with our cat Cutie, her fur was somewhat matted but she looked me in the eye as she always did, and I petted her. Gone but not gone.

I slept until three minutes before my alarm would have gone off.

The gift had arrived dressed in morning.

Time to rise.

Gathering Clouds - Charleston Marathon Part I

2011-01-26T06:23:00.002-05:00

Super Kids!

On Wednesday before the race, I participated in a discussion with 4th - 7th grade kids at Saint John Catholic School in North Charleston. I had been asked to speak by David Hill, who knows a coworker of mine, Betty Niermann. The kids are doing a LEGO robot design and research project where this year's theme is Biomedical Engineering. Greg, a MUSC Biomed PhD student spoke on fascinating research, and I gave a short talk on my injury and prostheses.

Unfortunately my high tech running foot was back at ProCare being updated, so I brought my older one for the kids to see. I believe they were most impressed with being able to see and touch it. I was about their age when my original accident happened, so we shared a connection in time. For some reason I was a little more nervous talking to these kids, but I think that was because I wasn't sure exactly what I should say to them about amputation. It was my intent to show it does not limit what a person can do, and because we look different it does not mean we are not human beings too.

*******

Earlier in the week I exchanged some emails with Mike Lenhart, and we discussed the marathon and whether or not it might be wise to drop to one of the shorter race distances that day. This was something Jennifer and I had discussed and had been on my mind. The last injury and subsequent lack of training was not making for confident mental race preparation. I wrote this to Mike:

"To be 100% honest, I do not know if I can run the distance if I have issues with the socket much less off the abbreviated training. I probably won't know until Friday evening or Saturday morning which leg I will wear. I will be on the starting line, I know that. I think it will be a long day, my time will be very slow, but I don't care...I just want to cross that finish line now. I feel more anxious than my first able-bodied marathon since I know what is coming."

Mike had my best interests in mind, recalling how he and Scott Rigsby took over 6 hours to finish a marathon. Scott, a bilateral amputee, had issues during the race that caused setbacks for him on his way to his "unthinkable" IronMan dream. Were I in Mike's place, I believe I would have offered the same advice to another runner found in a similar position, knowing what was likely best and what would likely happen.

*******

During this week before the marathon, a winter storm had hit much of the south; Atlanta was covered in snow and ice. There was some delay getting my leg to ProCare, despite my sending it on Monday via overnight delivery. We had some icing on bridges here, but along the coast the roads were generally clear. Stephen kept in touch with me as the package finally arrived Wednesday afternoon, Jan. 12. This would give them perhaps 12 hours to work on it and ship it back so I could have it on Friday before the race.

Little did I know things would get even more interesting.

*******

Made by ShowOffs in Mount Pleasant, SC

On Wednesday I heard from Ashley's mom, Carol. The weather in Atlanta was not forecast to clear in time for them to come to the race. This made me very sad, I had many times thought about crossing that finish line with my surprise - the IFOPA singlet I would be wearing - and seeing Ashley there.

It seems so many things were conspiring to tell me not to do this race. Not enough training; a newer injury behind my knee; my friend Ashley would not be able to come to the race; my running prosthesis - if it made it back on time - would be completely new except for the Nitro carbon fiber foot itself. What would I do if I put it on and something was terribly wrong with the fit? Could I run for a longer period of time I had ever done in my life?

Questions easy, answers hard is something I learned long ago. This answer would be twenty six point two miles long.

And I had not run one step all week.

*******

There was one very bright spot in this gathering gloom: our IFOPA donations were picking up momentum. Several people who had already given once came forward to help again. Most of the previous donations came from people I knew like family and friends. Now friends of friends joined our ranks. Jennifer began the snowball rolling and others joined in, Colin and Kristin Cooley, Ian Mountford, Lori Jomsky, Christopher and Crea Wilno, Tom DeSee and so many others took up the banner to help cure FOP.

It was an unbelievable display of human caring. It came to mind that there is no greater love between friends, many unseen, and no matter what the odds, they will stand at your side and never flinch. In fact, if they could they would take your burden and make it their own. We do our best, we depend on each other to do the same, and we will never, ever, give up.

My step-daughter Becca and her husband Chris Winn responded with their second donation to help cure FOP. This brought tears to my eyes...Becca and Chris will be first time parents in March. It's not like they have any money to spare with Baby Winn on the way in this economy, yet here they make another donation to help people they have never met. This act of love was nearly unbearable to me. It still is as I write this.

My soul began to grow quiet. Whatever comes, we will not stop. Through all the unknown, the uncertainty, the possibility of failure, there would be no giving in and no giving up. With support such as this, I will be on that starting line and will go as far as my body would take me. I had no idea how powerful this knowledge would be.

Friday, however, would continue to test the will.

And it would not end there.

Prologue to Marathon Posts

2011-01-25T12:15:00.001-05:00

I have tried to capture the days leading up to my marathon and then the race itself. I simply could not fit it all into a single post, and I know I still left many things out that come back to me in quieter moments. I could write a book. :-)

There are seven posts, and I will try to publish one or more a day starting tomorrow. I enjoyed writing these, and I am happy to be able to share this journey with you.

Your friend in running,

- Richard

Quick note

2011-01-16T12:26:00.000-05:00

It is going to take a few days to distill all that happened yesterday. So please bear with me as I try to put into words what was in my head and heart as I approached and ran the Charleston Marathon. It was a good day to run, one that I will replay in my mind for the rest of my life.

In the meantime, you can still help us with our goal to cure FOP here. Ashley is planning a 5k race in the Atlanta, GA area to benefit IFOPA in the spring, so if you can come I would love for you to meet her there.

Thanks for your patience!

Keep. Moving. Forward.

2011-01-13T22:33:00.005-05:00

The title of this post is one of the mantras I use when the going gets tough on longer runs. Even if I am slowing down and losing race time, you don't get to the finish line unless you move toward it. So if I am tired and wanting to stop and maybe even sit for a while, I first try this: Keep. Moving. Forward.

The Charleston Marathon is in less than two days. I have decided to try not to talk about the things I have no control over, the things like lost training time I cannot change or fix. My goal remains to complete the race, and to do this I will need to run slow and see if I can indeed finish. A faster time will have to wait for another day, this day will be special in many other ways.

Ashley's mom Carol wrote to me concerned they will probably not be able to come for the race. It's a long drive in good conditions, but even a little ice on the road would be treacherous and there can be no chance for Ashley to fall getting in and out of the car. I often imagined how it would be to see Ash at the finish line, but there is another one we all want to see and you can help here.

This would afford me the opportunity to run the marathon on another day. I could drop to a shorter distance on Saturday, take some time to dial in my new prosthesis, and get the quality training I need to run a the way I feel I am capable of later. Yet even with these things considered I find I cannot turn back now, something inside compels me to Keep. Moving. Forward.

The one shoe I will be wearing on Saturday

There will only be one inaugural Charleston Marathon, the very race, if not the course, that I have long dreamed about. If I decided not to do it I would certainly carry that regret - and too many excuses - around in the baggage compartment. No thanks.

Tomorrow is going to be one busy day. Four hours of work, then hoping my new prosthesis makes it to me in time to test, make and send video of walking and running to the Stephen Schulte at ProCare for a quick visual assessment of my alignment, go to the packet pickup and pasta dinner, then home to make sure all race items are accounted for and perhaps time for a quick pre-race post.

*******

It is hard to believe that race day is nearly here, it has seemed like a dream in many ways. One I will wake up from to tell Jennifer, you won't believe this, I dreamed I was a one-footed guy trying to run a marathon on ridiculously low mileage and a brand new prosthesis. Thing is, I am wide awake and yes, I am doing these things.

I am lucky to be able to run again. More than that, how many runners get to experience running their first marathon twice? Running does love me, and I running. Just when I thought I could not love it more...an entirely new universe opens and embraces me. And for that I have few words, but plan to do the doing on Saturday.

Keep.

Moving.

Forward.

Cliff's Edge

2011-01-10T18:22:00.000-05:00

I am severely under-trained for this marathon, never have I felt so ill-prepared for a race. My new running prosthesis has been sent overnight to ProCare for some adjustments as my Sunday 10 miler morphed into a sad 8 miler. I knew we would be pushing the envelope to get a completely new running prosthesis ready to go in a little over a week, but it was my fault for waiting so long to make this change. The guys at ProCare can work magic given a reasonable schedule and I feel certain as adjustments are made things will get much better; the reason I know this is because I have talked to other athletes and have seen what they can do.

Current back of knee injury

With a good fitting prosthesis this race would be very difficult; with a problematic one it will be awful. No doubt if this was a weekend 5k I would blow if off until later, but this my goal race and one I felt I had given myself an abundance of time to train for. That is true; I factored in around 4 weeks of downtime. Turned out to be at least twice that much of lost training, the inability to do key long runs and speed work that could spell failure on race day.

I fear this race, but more than that, I fear not doing it more. I am ready to accept what I must, but I must run as far as I can go.

I will be on the starting line for the Charleston Marathon this Saturday. I am running to help cure FOP in honor of our friend Ashley Kurpiel. Ashley will be at the finish line with her parents, and that is why I must finish this journey.

You can help here.

Thanks to everyone who have already helped and supported this effort. You are my friends. You are the heroes who will help beat FOP.

To Life

2011-01-05T16:07:00.004-05:00

My passionflowers

This past Sunday I was to run 16 miles to perform the acid test on my leg; if it started bleeding again I was going to have to bail on running the Charleston Marathon. My plastic test socket was never comfortable during the run and I could feel something wet against my skin only about 6 miles out.

Sweat or blood?

I knew sweat would definitely be inside the liner, but if I stopped and found blood I'd have to call Jennifer to come retrieve my sorry carcass. I decided not to stop...what would it really matter if I was bleeding now or after the 16? Either way I would be calling the race off, BUT if there was no bleeding I would have the semi-long run done and would still feel capable - in the most inadequate sense of the word - of doing the marathon.

My pace waned throughout the run until it reached "excruciatingly slow" on the dial, right next to "dead stop." And I did stop a few times, feeling a sharp pain and discomfort and wondering what I was doing to myself, and how in the hell was I going to run 26.2 miles in such a state. Random thoughts criss-crossed in my mind. I thought of my friend Ashley. I remembered waking up in the recovery room. I thought of how much work and time I had put into this effort. A vision was conjoured up of my dad and our walks to "the rock" in western North Carolina. Inside I could feel the dirt beneath the feet of a boy running through the woods.

Was I to abandon if I could not run as fast I as capable of even if this run went well?

I made a peace with myself, that if I was not bleeding I would do what it took to run this marathon, something was tugging at my soul that it would not be about the finish time, but the time running and seeing that finish line.

Nobody said it would be easy.

*******

It took over 3 hours to run the 16 miles. I ran 13.1 miles 3 weeks prior in under 2 hours.

But I was not bleeding.

*******

I write this from the ProCare lounge where I am hanging out while my first new test socket is being built. As mentioned in a prior post, I have changed prosthetists. Stephen Schulte is methodically working to build a state-of-the-art running prosthesis that I will almost certainly wear in my marathon attempt. Any athlete knows it is usually a very, VERY bad idea to change equipment right before the main event; many a runner have spoken the words "woe is me" or more likely "$*&^!" for changing shoe models days before a race.

This is to say I know the danger I am courting, but it is a risk I have to take. I know my current socket is trouble, it proved that at Kiawah. Even if my new socket feels good right away, from experience I know small imperfections may not show up for a week or two; but in 9 days and a few hours I will be somewhere on the streets of Charleston or North Charleston running my first marathon as an amputee.

Perhaps I will look back in the time to come and say: "Richard what a fool you were to think you could run on that low mileage and on a brand new prosthesis in a marathon! Idiot."

But the gamble I am willing to take, and put my very body on the line for, is to remember hearing this for the rest of my life: "Richard Blalock, from Mount Pleasant, has just finished the Charleston Marathon!"

I will see my dear friend Ashley there. My sweet wife Jennifer will be waiting for me. And the only time that matters will be the here and now.

To life.

Changes

2011-01-03T20:41:00.002-05:00

This post is difficult to write. Difficult in that I have thought about what I'm about to tell you for a long time. I kept thinking things would be resolved and get better and I'd not have to do this. When you've been with someone from the start and find things just are not working out, it makes for a hard decision; one I have found nearly as difficult as deciding to amputate my foot in 2009. It many ways it feels like a divorce.

First I want to say without reservation that I deeply appreciate all that my friend Larry Wiley has done for me at Floyd Brace. I know without any doubt that helping me reach my running dream has been as important to him as it has been to me. Never have I felt I have imposed on him and I know he genuinely has his patient's best interests in mind. From being there at the hospital when I had my surgery to traveling with me to the the Getting2Tri National ParaTriathlon Training Camp, Larry has been there every step along the way.

As I have pushed forward with my training with an eye on the Charleston Marathon, I have had many problems we've tried to resolve. Unfortunately, I have not been able to train consistently because of many issues as I've written about on this blog. Now in a tenuous position of being undertrained in a race that hates those who do not respect the distance; it even hates those who do respect the monster, it is an equal opportunity teacher. You will hurt, some more, some less. I have always hurt doing a marathon.

I have decided to change prosthetists. There, I've said it. Larry has taken me as far as we can go, and now I have to go further. I must be able to train on a consistent basis to achieve my goals, and I have decided after many months of gut checking introspection to become a patient at ProCare Prosthetics in Buford, Georgia. Many amputees will recognize this company as the one who has helped many high level athletes reach their incredible goals, like Scott Risgby, Jason Gunter, and Rajesh Durbal.

From before my amputation, I was told from other amputees that prosthetic fit is all-important and that I shouldn't let loyalty affect my judgment in prosthetic care. This is much easily said than done and I have struggled with it time and time again. I do know, however, it must be done, and the time is now.

I love the people at Floyd Brace and will miss the visits there as a patient. To see a child's face light up when Maurice Johnson simply walks into a room is a testament to their caring. God knows I appreciate that. To see how many employees and their families have begin their individual journeys back into health and fitness is something that their patients will benefit from...indeed, actions always speak louder than words. Thank you for all you have done for me, and know I will forever be grateful for your help.

As I enter the next phase of my amputated life, I will never, ever, forget those who helped me get here. Growing pains are difficult in everything we do, it is the struggle toward our goals that we engage in every day. There are things we must never let go, and others that we must change to move forward.

For me, that time is now.

Nobody said it was easy
Oh, it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start

- Coldplay "The Scientist"

Getting There

2010-12-29T19:31:00.001-05:00

My previous butterfly bandage was not sufficient to stop the small amount of bleeding I am experiencing since running the Kiawah half marathon. Funny, I had been thinking about using super glue to help the area heal and had planned to mention it to my surgeon, but it slipped my mind as we talked about prosthetics.

I wasn't sure what exactly was going on at the time, but later it was apparent that likely it was a blood blister that had formed behind my incision line. When it burst it left a small indention which has refused to close, while leaking a small amount of fluid/blood. My good friend Kelly Luckett, an amputee ultramarathoner, said her husband Brian insisted that she tell me to think about using super glue, as he uses it on his fingernails as a classical guitarist. Although I have no such talent - other than listening to some musicians like Segovia and Parkening - I have used super glue on my nails after splitting them while working on computer guts or for no reason at all, likely age related.

Dr. B, not a PhD

So this past Monday I removed my first effort at a more robust bandage, obtained some super glue from my daughter-in-law Kristen, and glued my owie shut. I placed two wound closure strips over it and another hydrocolloid bandage over that to protect and cushion the injury site. I could not detect any bleeding on Tuesday and as I write this on Wednesday evening it appears to be on the mend.

With 16 days to the marathon, I am going to try to run 2 - 3 miles tomorrow and see what happens. If I bleed again I will toss in the towel on the Charleston Marathon. If no bleeding, I will run 4 in Friday, 8 on Saturday, and 16 on Sunday. This is aggressive mileage, but I truly have no choice given the race date. I have already thrown out any time goal whatsoever; the race is to finish before the course is closed. It is my fault for allowing such injuries to adversely affect my training. This will change.

The plan now is IF I run the Charleston Marathon to think of it as over distance training and still run the Snickers marathon in March. There are many variables at play here, so this may not happen. Part of me is going to be very upset that I am running to finish, not running to the best of my current ability. I believe this is not an unwarranted emotion but one that I have had to learn the hard way, through that unforgiving teacher Experience. The peak beyond this is the Boston Marathon in 2012, the one I share with my old able-bodied self. I will not allow an ill-fitting prosthesis to keep my from this goal.

For some reason this song is sticking (maybe it was the super glue) in my mind, particularly the lyrics:

I'm gonna get there soon
You're gonna be there too

- Mat Kearney

I suppose I am thinking about the marathon, being in the moment of the race, thinking how it will feel to see that finish line, who will be there, and explode with the emotion I can only imagine from here.

And I am going to get there soon. You will be there too.

Here or There or Anywhere

2010-12-26T22:52:00.004-05:00

Later this week I will have to decide whether or I not I will be able to run my goal race, the Charleston Marathon. The small spot along my incision line continues to bleed a some and simply will not heal shut.

The Stubborn Owie

Today I bought some butterfly bandages and placed 4 of them over the injury as well as a hydrocolloid bandage to cushion the area from my socket. I wish I had done this sooner than now, but I am still learning about being an amputee and suppose I will for the rest of my life.

If I am unable to run on January 15, I have two other alternative races in mind: the Myrtle Beach Marathon on February 19 in Myrtle Beach, SC, or the Snickers Marathon in Albany, GA, on March 5. Of the two I am leaning toward the Snickers Marathon since it will give me additional time to train AND it is on my birthday. I have run the Myrtle Beach marathon in the past and would prefer a different race; the convenience of the location less than 2 hours from our house is the main drawing point.

It is disappointing to think about not doing this race after all the work - and dreaming - I have done to get there, but it has to all be put into perspective: I can run again when once I was hobbled in pain. It seems things do happen for a reason, but even if it is total chaos, we are tested and made stronger for the effort. It is not the place, but the doing that is the race.

And when I run it, it will be one of the greatest days of this one life. If I have to wait it will only be sweeter, this is the gift running has returned to me.

22 Days

2010-12-23T13:11:00.003-05:00

Today is December 23, 2010. On December 11 I ran the Kiawah half marathon - my third race of that distance - and have run exactly 10 miles since then. In 22 days I will be running the Charleston Marathon.

I can't say I am unhappy or exactly frustrated although I have had intense moments of both; I have been given circumstances that depend on me to resolve, no one else. I still have a spot of bleeding from that last race, which I no doubt aggravated by trying to run again before it had fully healed. It had stopped bleeding which was a good sign, but not good enough. Three short runs later the band-aid was wet with blood and I pulled over to the sideline to wait it out.

It was my intent to do a short run today, but with a spot of blood still apparent I have learned my lesson and will not go. Being off work next week, I hope to be able to squeeze in at least one more 16 miler to instill some tiny kernel of confidence that I can finish the marathon without being reduced to walking/limping to the finish line or perhaps saddled with the most cruel DNF. Again, it is my life, my leg, my choice to take care of what is best for me. There will be many more races with extremes of magnificent and horrid; both test the soul of the runner.

The one thing I have less control over is my prosthesis. It is a complicated device that lets me run without an anatomical foot, that interfaces with a limb in a socket that forces it to change shape. Think of a tube of toothpaste that you gently squeeze that forces the dental cleaner up and out; this is what is happening to the fluid in my leg and why prosthetic socks are added during the day to make up for this volume loss.

There is a relatively new development in the prosthetic world called the elevated vacuum pump. Basically it is an electrical or mechanical pump that maintains pressure inside the socket; the negative pressure pulls the skin toward the socket instead of squeezing it. In a properly built prosthesis this allows for a more natural environment for the residual limb. This sounds wonderful and something my prosthetist tried without success for several reasons, but I intend to try it again as I think it will eliminate most of my problems. It must be built correctly, which requires time, patience and experience. Given the Ironman I know who have used it with great success, there is little reason to discount it for a marathoner, half marathoner, or any active amputee.

*******

So here I sit, looking over the winter landscape of northern Illinois, hoping to get a few short runs done before we leave, perhaps in the snow-globe world of a drifting flakes. In 22 days I will be running my first amputee marathon on training that I would consider minimal at best. This race has all the markings of a personal worse...had it not been the fact that I am fortunate to be able to run it at all. As I keep this in mind, and for the cause I decided to run it for, nothing matters now except to finish.

It will be enough.

For now.

Discovery

2010-12-19T09:36:00.000-05:00

- Pi, from "The Life of Pi" (Yann Martel)

Kiawaaah!

2010-12-12T19:01:00.003-05:00

My first marathon was Kiawah in 1991. It was a foggy, warm, humid day and I struggled through cramps to finish in 4:09. It was a hard race and I did say those immortal words: "never again." It would take 6 more years before I restored my gumption to run another, which would become my PR in Chicago.

Yesterday Jennifer and I ran the half marathon 2010 edition of the race under cold and rainy skies. Our friends Kelly and Brian Luckett both ran the full marathon, Kelly participating in the new Mobility Impaired Division of the race.

We awoke at 4 am to get ready and make the drive down to Kiawah. I added some extra time to take longer back roads to avoid the traffic congestion as much as possible. We arrrived at the island and parked in the designated field, hopped on the bus (me, literally) and were driven to the race start, all without any anxiety.

There were plenty of port-a-potties, and even so I had to wait on an able-bodied person to use the only handicapped unit. We checked our gear, waiting as long as possible to head out into the chilly drizzle which picked up some enthusiasm before the start. I wore my old trusty green Hind top, which I knew would keep me warm once we got underway.

Thankfully the race started right on time. The road is only two lanes wide, so the first mile is very crowded, made worse but those who almost immediately start walking two abreast. I just can't understand how this happens, as these folks had to be far out of place in their starting positions to be walking ahead of 8 - 9 minutes runners. Always very exasperating.

A woman sidles up alongside and we chat a bit. Normally I want to concentrate on running but in my current configuration I know others are interested my story. In a 5k I'd be running too hard to talk but it is no problem in these early miles. She has run Boston and tells me when I go to watch out for the train roundabouts, which can often be slick...I am hoping my brain filed this away to be remembered in 2012.

Right at mile 6 my right hip flexor starts whining. I am on pace to run a good race and not happy with this development. I massage as best I can but that pushes my leg down and I scuff my blade on the road. Damn. I take mile 7 easier, trying to get more weight off the right leg and relaxing through the gait cycle. My sub 9 miles are ended with a 9:20.

Ok, fine, I am not stopping AND I am picking the pace back up. I am also thinking of those who have supported me through all this time, some praying, others offering neverending supportive words. And then, somewhere in mile 8, this pain falls away and I am running strong and free again. There are no more 9 minute miles, that is owned by mile 7 alone.

The miles do start taking their toil on all us. At mile 10 I am still feeling good and think: a 5k to go. At mile 12 the battle against the mounting fatigue begins in earnest. We are running on an asphalt walkway and many tree roots take my concentration off running and onto not falling. A number of runners give me words of encouragement which I try to return. Mile 13 comes up and I dig a little deeper, bless this day, this gift...thank you for letting me run again.

8:36.

We are entering the last tenth of a mile, and I am aware of a tremendous roar from the spectators, much louder than I would expect from the size of the crowd. I am running with all I have left, eyes on the finish line, and then I am there, hands on knees, wheezing.

With my medal around my neck, I head for some chairs and rest a bit, chatting with another runner from Waycross, Ga. As I stand up to head over to the gear tent, I notice the end of my stump is tender and I am limping. Outside the tent - because I am still sensitive to the appearance of my residual - I check it out and it looks almost like watery skin is coming off, something like what you might find from a blister that is losing its protective layer of skin.

I head over to the half marathon post-race food tables and wait for Jennifer in the restaurant, being offered a chair that is gladly accepted. The door is at my back and I'm quite chilled, but don't want to leave in case Jennifer comes looking for me. I have a good conversation from a mother and her son-in-law waiting for their daughter/wife to finish; Mike McKenna and his girlfriend Megan come by and we talk about the race and the upcoming Charleston marathon.

Jennifer finally came in from the cold and the rain, her ITB had bothered her during the race, causing her to have to stop and stretch many times. She ate and I checked the half marathon results. I was hoping to see both the Wheelchair and Mobility Impaired divisions listed but only the able-bodied were posted and my name was there:

              KIAWAH ISLAND HALF MARATHON
                              13.1 MILE ROAD RACE
        KIAWAH ISLAND,S.C. DECEMBER 11,2010, USATF Cert# SC02030BS
    Results compiled by Race Management Systems(RMS), www.rmssports.com

Place      Div/Tot     Name              Age S      City     St Chiptm Time    Pace
===== ===== ============ == = ==========   == ====== ===== ====
557/2542    12/57 Richard Blalock 57 M Mt. Pleasant SC 1:56:02 1:57:23 8:58

*******

That evening we have dinner with the Kelly and Brian at one of our favorite restaurants, Hominy Grill. My brother David had cut out an article about this place many years ago as he wanted to go there sometime, I can't help remembering that every time I eat there. We had some delicious food and without guilt, their fabulous chocolate pudding. Yes, we talked about running and of course, more running. Kelly gave me some useful information about the Boston Marathon and prepared me for the hotel cost price shock as well.

Good race, good food, good company, good day.

*******

And now for the bad: this morning I noticed a large nodule on my old incision line. I have had a red, irritated spot there for many weeks and made sure Larry took it into consideration with my new carbon fiber socket that I am suppose to pick up this Wednesday. It has been a more sore and red after my last big workout as pictured in this post.

I had my breakfast then took another look at the owie. As I pulled the skin back slightly to see it better since it is on the distal end of my stump, blood spurted out. I immediately sent Larry a text and decided to try to see Dr. Ohlson tomorrow to make sure something else isn't going on like a bone spur.

The bad

My best guess is if there are no special complications that I will take at least two days off and try to heal to get a long run in next weekend. If I am not confident I am well enough I may take the entire week off and run long in 2 weeks. I am deeply disappointed and concerned that I continue to have problems like this. As long as no anatomical complication is apparent I will not be deterred from running the Charleston Marathon.

I accept my limitations but I have none that I surrender to. I do not quit. I expect nothing from others I do not expect from myself.

And I expect to cross that finish line, upright, not limping, on my own two good feet.

I have someone to see there who does not quit either. And that is why I know I will finish.

6 til 26 point 2 and a 50

2010-12-05T17:32:00.002-05:00

It is exactly 6 weeks until the Charleston Marathon. This means 4 weeks of training and a 2 week taper; the taper will be more rest than usual since I cannot have the more typical 3 week variety. Too much time lost, but I am making the most of the time I have remaining with some good quality work.

Today was probably the hardest day of pure training I will have. The workout was:

2 miles on treadmill for warm-up
Drive to track
1 more warm-up lap, light dynamic stretching
4 x 0.75 mi at threshold pace w/ 0.25 mi rest interval
6 miles at marathon pace
4 x 0.75 mi at threshold pace w/ 0.25 mi rest interval

This works out to 16.25 miles total, and since most of this is harder running it felt longer than my last 21 miler. What I like about this workout is it mimics the marathon itself, with those last threshold miles reminiscent of the last 6 miles of the real deal. Not quite the same, as that can only be experienced on race day, but the stress is similar.

I ran the first threshold reps a little fast, but I am not beating myself up because I was able to complete the workout without a crash 'n burn. In fact, even though the last reps were slower, I ran them strongly and finished with the confidence. There were some moment during the 6 mile portion that I had some doubts, but weakness stayed out of town and some light twinges in the left hamstring decided it was against their best interests to complain further.

The weather was not as warm as predicted so I got a little chilly; as the workout wore on I donned gloves and later another shirt. I found myself wishing I had worn some compression shorts (see hamstring comments) but rubbed the legs warm as I could and fortunately did not have to stop short.

I have a little swelling at the distal end of my tibia and also at my fib head. Nothing looks too disturbing at the moment and I will have Larry take a look next Wednesday when I go to Floyd Brace for an appointment. I want to be in a carbon fiber socket for the marathon, as any weight I can save will put less pressure on the one weakness I know I do have: the right hip flexors.

Tibia owie

Oh, one more thing....

Today I ran 4 miles with Jennifer, and this gave me, for the first time since April 22, 2007, a 50 mile week! Another milestone reached. Yes, better late than never again!

So...one hard workout this week, less miles, and then an honest effort at Kiawah. Jennifer and I will the half marathon, while our friends Kelly and Brian Luckett will run the full. Kelly and I will be running in the Mobility Impaired Divisions for our respective races, a historic day for disabled runners in South Carolina as I believe this is the first marathon and possibly first race ever in the state to have such designations.

Oh yeah, they have a tasty bean soup for finishers. I thought about this soup while we were running today, and can't wait to have some again. It's been a while.

Back in the day

Jeannie Peeper

2010-12-03T11:02:00.001-05:00

Carol Kurpiel posted this link on Facebook about Jeannie Peeper, the founder of The International Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva Association (IFOPA). I hope you will watch this video and help move Jeannie's organization to a cure for FOP. The gene that causes FOP has been located and with continued research a cure will be found. There is hope for everyone with this disease as well as the ones not yet born who may face it.


Dr. Zasloff, Jeannie Peeper, and Dr. Kaplan at the First International Symposium on FOP in September 1991

Please watch the video here.

YOU can help here at my FirstGiving site or here at IFOPA.

It's a long race
If I try I will surely finish
It's a long race
If we try we will surely win it

- Bruce Hornsby

On the Kindness of Others

2010-12-02T18:51:00.003-05:00

Just a short post to highlight a large thanks...THANKS to Mike McKenna, VP of The Charleston Running Club who invited me to speak at their meeting last month. Not only that, but Mike has personally donated to IFOPA, helping to fund the research that will put an end to this disease forever. Mike has also linked to our fund raising efforts on his "Catch the Leprechaun 5k" blog here.

This made me think of all the invisible threads that connect our lives. I am thinking how Mike Lenhart convinced me to come to Getting2Tri National ParaTriathlon Training Camp, where I met so many incredible athletes and volunteers. I also was able to meet in person a number of people I knew online, like Scott Rigsby, Jason Gunter, Kelly Luckett, and our friend Ashley Kurpiel. Parents and spouses and friends; a large circle of support growing wider every day. People touching other people's lives either directly or through indirect actions.

I arrived at this place in my life because of steps many others had taken, to show that the loss of a limb did not mean loss of life, rather improved life, even life restored. By actions, not words, we move forward. And yes, run.

So now Mike has come to know Ashley and those affected by FOP, and is helping because Ashley reached out to me when I lost my foot and I lost my foot because someone named Oscar Pistorius showed me what was possible.

This is indeed the good stuff. Try it sometime.

Be like Mike.

A Good Week

2010-11-27T17:13:00.006-05:00

It's been a week of good news for my running cause, an article appeared here that shows a cure for FOP may indeed be closer than we thought.

"To my knowledge, our discovery is the first to show that the effects of a disease-causing genetic mutation can be replicated and used to treat other diseases," Medici wrote in an e-mail.

With an increased focus on the understanding of FOP, researchers may find keys "to treat osteoporosis, osteoarthritis, muscular dystrophy or Alzheimer's disease."

As I thought about this, it occurred to me that in the future not only will FOP be cured, but the thing that caused me to lose foot may also benefit from this finding.

Our friend Ashley wrote this:

"FOP in the news!!!!! My future is looking brighter!! There is hope!! ♥"

If you would like to hasten a cure to this disease - and it can be cured - please help us here.

*******

I was also surprised to learn a few weeks ago that my nomination for my surgeon, Dr. Blake Ohlson, for local "Health Care Heroes" was going to be a finalist for an award.

From left, Linda Scheller, Roper Hospital Volunteer; Kristy Hill, RN, Roper Hospital Oncology; Blake Ohlson, MD, Orthopaedic Specialists of Charleston; and Estelle Whitney, Bon Secours St. Francis Hospital Volunteer, were recognized at the Nov. 18 Health Care Heroes Awards Banquet sponsored by the Charleston Regional Business Journal

Several Roper St. Francis hospital health care professionals were nominated for awards, for recognition that is often goes unseen, yet include acts that go beyond that of self in helping others; acts of compassion and caring that make define our humanity. Their stories are here on Facebook.

*******

All this makes me again think with solid conviction that I made the right choice, the only choice for me. To have lost running was an amputation far exceeding a lost limb. Not to have met all of the people I have come to know and the experiences this new life has shown me, that "the amazing will be seem every day" would have been an inconceivable alien world unseen.

It is not often to know you have made the correct decision when a hard choice presents itself. The apparent randomness of life is an equal opportunity employer; what we do with the decisions we make, even when wrong, depends on us. To keep trying in the face of a mountain of adversity, to never quit, to stand up when crushed, to be honest and truthful and deceive no one, to dare to live...that is a righteous way of life.

I have been given a unique opportunity through this hard choice. It has taught me much about myself and more about others, another level of understanding. It is true, many lessons can only be learned through experience. I think the main one has been what my friend Scott Rigsby has said, we need to pay it forward. To make a difference to those who will never know it, that is a good thing. To remember those who reached out to get us there, that is a good thing too.

*******

I plan to run my second 20 miler tomorrow, maybe 21 if I feel strong and am not struggling. On Wednesday I have a 6 x 1 mile workout and then a tough Daniels long threshold run the following weekend. My speed is taking a backseat to long endurance; overall, I am feeling strong and my socket is cooperating by not beating up my residual. I'll contact Larry next week to see about going back to a carbon fiber socket. Any weight I can save will make it easier on my right hip flexor, which seems to be the one weak link I feel at times.

*******

We - Jennifer and our friend Nancy Cumbee - ran our traditional Turkey Day 5k on Thanksgiving morning. Last time I ran it I was wearing my everyday prosthesis in a plastic socket; this year I had my running blade "Jato" but still in plastic. It was on the warm side, more noticeably the last mile on King Street where there was little breeze. About a half mile into the race, I heard myself wheezing and realized I had not taken a hit of my inhaler. Nothing to be done but to remember not to forget next time, another lesson learned. Shortly thereafter Jeff Nolan and Josh Wiley pass me and disappear ahead.

For such a large race I don't understand why they don't use timing mats; everyone loses large chunks of time due to the crowded start. My watch time was 25:41 but the gun time was 26:21. Actually I am surprised it only took me 40s to cross the starting line. Just got the official results, my place was 30/177 in my AG, not too bad!

From left, Nancy, Jennifer, and me

My time is around 6 minutes faster than the previous year. I'd love to be 6 minutes faster next year but suspect the improvement will not be nearly as great. There is still room for more PBs that will come with dedicated 5k training, and I am looking forward those future races.

*******

We had Thanksgiving with the family at my brother Mark and his wife Debbie's house. I was smart enough to pace myself prior to the big dinner, and it seemed especially delicious. Watched some football with the nephews and was entertained by their banter. Good boys.

***

I am not nearly so anxious thinking about my 20 miler tomorrow. My knee is looking good so that shouldn't slow me down; I will listen to my body and know 20 is all I need for now. The high tomorrow should be around 62o, which should make for a comfortable trot. All I have to do...is do it.

From Gallipoli (1981):

Jack: What are your legs?
Archy Hamilton: Springs. Steel springs.
Jack: What are they going to do?
Archy Hamilton: Hurl me down the track.
Jack: How fast can you run?
Archy Hamilton: As fast as a leopard.
Jack: How fast are you going to run?
Archy Hamilton: As fast as a leopard!
Jack: Then let's see you do it!

On Marathon Pace

2010-11-21T10:11:00.001-05:00

After putzing around most of yesterday, I nearly put off my long marathon pace (MP) run until today. With a 5k on Thanksgiving Day I didn't want to chance having dead legs for the race, so I got motivated to get 'r done.

Usually I do 2 miles on the treadmill before heading outside, but I since my workout called for 15 miles total, the first 5 easy and then 10 at MP, I did all of my easy running inside. It was getting late by the time I was ready to start the 10, which would cause me to run a little fast to avoid running too far in the dark.

The run went well except for the fact I ran it a little faster than my plan. On raceday starting too fast will ruin all these months of training as those first miles will seem painfully slow. If there is one thing I have learned about pacing for a marathon, a fast start does not put money in the bank, but makes for painful withdrawals at the end. My last harder workout before the Charleston Marathon is a MP run, so I must do just that, run it at marathon pace, only allowing myself to go faster the last 2 miles.

On a good note, the skin behind my knee took no more damage that I could detect after the run. I had slathered on enough Aquaphor to raise the stock of petroleum companies to record highs and it worked. During my run I get some phantom pains occasionally, one in particular felt like on missing right big toe was plugged into an electrical outlet. Just a second or two, enough to get my attention and thankful it did not last longer. For most of the run I felt my gait was smooth and my effort even.

The main thing from now to raceday will be to stay healthy and not take chances. Since we are flying around Christmas, I need to make sure my immune system is strong at a time in training when it is under greatest stress. After that it is mostly taper, something I will take seriously to ensure my residual skin is very healthy, no areas of compromises. With great hope and crossed fingers, I think my socket issues are resolved to allow me to run this race without excuses or failure.

*******

I have been talking to Ashley and Carol Kurpiel, making plans for their family visit for the race. We've decided to go to the race pasta dinner in order to participate in the race atmosphere. Since I have the marathon the following morning and must get up early to get my residual down to "race size," I need to be home early. Also I need to be fully rested, so I am taking two days off prior to the marathon to help get me off my feet as much as possible.

With the race 54 days away, I find anything I can do to remove any unknown factors helps put my mind at ease. No worries mate, that's for me.

Stop Pinching Me!

2010-11-20T08:35:00.003-05:00

Rawhide!

This pic show how my liner and socket conspire to pinch my flesh and remove my skin in small strips.

This is the liner next to the skin - note creases behind bent knee

My residual continues to shrink. Since the calf muscle doesn't fire unless I consciously make it move, it will atrophy.

Then you add prosthetic socks and a sleeve, making things even tighter with the socket

I have been unable to piece together consistent training weeks. Whenever I approach 50 miles, some problem crops up, like a swollen fib head or pinched, bleeding skin or one of the other inventive aggravations I have written about on this blog. I will be running the Charleston Marathon on the least amount of training of any of my able-bodied 26.2s.

From my view, I need a liner that is thin in this area and does not bunch up behind my knee; this would likely have to be custom fabricated for my leg. I am able to manage this with Aquaphor to some extent, but if it continues to happen I will need to look at alternatives.

Today's run is a planned 15 miler, 5 easy and the 10 around marathon pace. Next week we have the Turkey Day 5k and another 20 miler over the weekend. Not much rest for me until the marathon taper; I will take extra days off during the week for recovery, but need to get these longer weekend runs in without fail to still salvage a respectable race. I believe I can do it....and not just do it.

Running to Win

2010-11-17T12:10:00.006-05:00

Tonight I am going to give a short talk about my marathon training, and more specifically our cause, raising money for FOP research here.

Mike McKenna of the Charleston Running Club (CRC) contacted me via Twitter about this a couple of weeks ago. I was quite moved by the offer that the club could help raise some donations for our cause. In years past we have been occasional invisible members of the CRC, supporting it with dues but not attending any meetings.

Having given a talk to the nurses at Roper St. Francis Bon Secours hospital, I don't feel quite as anxious about speaking to a group this time. These will be athletes, my compatriots in running, and there will be familiar faces in the crowd.

Ashley Kurpiel

I plan to give a short history of my amputation journey, my marathon training, and let them see how a running prosthesis works and answer any questions as best I can. I want to explain how I came to be running for Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva (FOP) research in honor of my friend Ashley and everyone affected by this rare disease. This is something that can be cured, the gene defect is now known, and the researchers are in search of the drug that will turn off the mechanism that turns connecting tissue into solid bone. We can win this race.

Ashley will be at the Charleston Marathon with her parents on January 15. Jennifer will be doing the half and I will be running my first marathon as an amputee runner. Please come say "hi" to this remarkable young woman, and know you can help stop this disease in its tracks.

We are counting on you.

20/20

2010-11-14T09:59:00.003-05:00

I've finished my breakfast of a bagel with almond butter, banana, and coffee. While fueling up I read about my friend Ashley Kurpie l describing an event yesterday:

"..had an amazing night.. I was honored along with some other amazing men and women.. Such an honor to be able to be recognized for just living my life.. I even got a standing ovation! I'm so thankful for the great people that surround me always.."

As I read this and finish eating my bagel, the radio, as if on cue, plays Blackbird:

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

*******

I have a mighty milestone to reach today: 20 miles. This is the training distance that one needs to cover to be minimally prepared for a marathon. Running much further than this tears the body done too much to be considered "training," but much less and the body does not experience the physiological changes that come with the distance. The dreaded wall as carbs are depleted may be seen for the first time.

I have broken down in every single marathon I have run. Cramping was my first enemy, then an assortment of inventive tripwires. Even when I had great training, I did not consider that the very dry air of the Arizona race site would trigger an asthma attack that would land me in the med tent after the race. At Cleveland my right hip flexor gave up the ghost and I struggled just to finish; I barely made it to that race as my ankle was becoming a distortion of what it once was.

So yes, I have a healthy respect for the distance and why I've been so concerned about my less than stellar training. I will certainly find out today if my residual limb and socket are going to be friends and let me get this long run done without incident. There is still time for some quality training if we can all just get along. I want to cover this distance at least 4 times, with some shorter long runs done a bit faster.

My plan for this first 20 miler is to start with 2 on the treadmill, then 6 near the house for 8 total. I'll refill my Camelbak and head out for the last 12. I had a good night's sleep and feel rested for this effort. The dreaded Drysol has been applied. I hate you Drysol. I love how well you work.

It's going to be a long day, a serious test. My recent training has been going well so I have some confidence it will make this run less stressful.

In two months I will be standing on the starting line of the Charleston Marathon. In some ways it begins today, the transition to the path up...up to that goal. I can see it clearly in the distance.

Time to do it. Time to move. Time to fly.

*******

Update: Mission Accomplished!

I ran my first amp 20 miler and I am still in a bit of a shock...I never got in distress, the last 6 miles were my strongest, and if I were running a marathon today I would have made the full distance. My socket did take some skin off the back of my knee, so I'll be visiting Floyd Brace early in the week to get it adjusted once again.

I sure needed this confidence boost, given the marathon is only two months away, which is 6 weeks and the taper.

Whew.

IFOPA Video - My Marathon Fuel

2010-11-11T19:28:00.000-05:00

When you have some time, please watch this video about the cause I am running my marathon for, the International Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva Association (IFOPA). This disease can be beat, the answer can be found...with our help.

I ask that you please help us with a secure donation here. Know that you, personally, can be part of this cure.

Think of those who will never have to experience this disease because you cared to make the difference.

Ashley Going Surfing!

Time for...

2010-11-10T20:11:00.005-05:00

Those are my wet footprints, note smaller right tread from Jato

Eli Lapp: 4:30. Time for milking.

Richard Blalock: 4:00. Time for running.

Since my SUV is in the shop with a destroyed transmission locked up all 4 wheels at 50 mph, a joyride I could have done without, I have another company car to drive home until mine is fixed. The pedal in this loaner SUV is too small for my size 13 paw, so I have to lay my leg across the console and drive with my left foot. Yes, I am a man of many talents.

What all this means is I have to be at work at 8 a.m. in case an employee needs to use this vehicle. My Daniels marathon plan usually calls for one weekday hard workout that is also long in duration; today I was scheduled to run 10 miles with 8 x 1320 at threshold (T) pace. Daniels calls for the T pace runs to be a certain time duration, but since I am old school I convert this to the distance I can roughly cover in the equivalent amount of time.

Given I had to be at work at 8, I calculated I would need to wake up at 4 a.m. to get the livestock fed, then do my treadmill warm-up before heading the track. And I did.

It was a little chilly, but I knew after a short period of (allegedly) faster running my core temperature would rise and I'd be comfortable. With only the security lighting on, parts of the track are very dark but as long as you keep making left turns after the straightaways you'll not get lost.

Without a moon, the sky was dark but clear; the stars brilliant and intense. I thought...Orion and Venus are my training partners, but I guess the Old Man decided to sleep in. I felt great and my reps clicked off on the a track wet with a recently run irrigation system. As dawn appeared, I noticed my footsteps between wet patches on the track; I thought it looked like footbridges between them. Yeah, this is the stuff I think about when I'm not thinking about my breathing or the effort I am engaged in.

I really do like training by myself, in the quiet with my own thoughts. No distractions, no excuses, none needed. No dependency on others to pull me along, no pressure to keep up. The holiness of the oval church, the reverence of the singular congregation, is enough for one.

The choir overhead sings eternal: holy, holy, holy.

And I run...and get to work only 5 minutes late. In the words the great Greek philosopher, 'nuff said.

Bridges

2010-11-08T06:21:00.012-05:00

The OO and I

I signed up for this race months ago, mainly because of the race's charity:

The Gavalas-Kolanko Foundation (GKF) is a public charity established to help students with disabilities reach their secondary educational goals. By awarding scholarship assistance to College of Charleston students each year, the GKF helps make "Education Within Reach" for South Carolina undergraduates pursuing a college education despite physical limitations.

I have run this race in the past as an able-bodied runner. The last time I ran it it was stand-you-up-and-maybe-knock-you-down windy. As a plus I got the worst side stitch I have had since I was a teenager and actually stopped for a few seconds to try to work it out. My time was rather disappointing:

             2006 JAMES ISLAND CONNECTOR 10K
PL NAME                  SEX    AGE      CITY      NO. TIME   PACE
=== ================   === ==== ======== === ==== ====
149 RICHARD BLALOCK   M 53    mt pleasant 355 52:24    8:26

Today I knew a time close to this would be a sign of continuing improvement and an amp PB; much slower than this would be similar disappointment as the '06 race.

The weather was rather chilly for the 2010 iteration of this event, somewhere around 40o. Jennifer and I arrived with enough time to warm up and do all the normal pre-race rituals like visiting the port-a-potties. Speaking of which, there was one unit with handicap access. Since I noticed the handle had the "green" symbol on display, I availed myself to the "perk" of my condition. As I reached for the door a little boy said: "It's occupied."

Ok. Shortly thereafter an able-bodied woman emerged and asked the boy if he wanted to use it because "it is so much larger than the other ones." The boy said no even when asked again, and I said: "it is larger because it is for handicap access." As I entered I heard her say..."oh..." People may think the larger unit is only for wheelchairs; it is not, the handrails are very useful for other disabilities. Same for handicap parking spaces; personally I need a little more space getting in and out of vehicles without dinging my door on their ride.

*******

Jennifer and I did a short warm-up and we lined up for the start. After a couple of pics, we readied ourselves for...off goes the horn and the stampede ensues. Although we have timing chips, we do not cross a starting mat, which means we will have "gun time" only for the results, not accurate for anyone except the first row of runners.

I head out and watch my step on what is the most uneven pavement of the course. Right turn and then left onto Calhoun Street and we run toward the James Island Connector bridge. This takes us in front of Roper St. Francis Hospital, the very place I had my two operations, the last being my amputation. A guy runs with me for a few strides and says something like: "Man you are an inspiration...a lot of people are going to run faster today when they see you." I thank him and wish him a good run, and vaguely think...I hope I run faster too!

I didn't quite remember the course from 2006 other than the first climb; I would be rudely reminded there are actual three "hills" on the bridge, meaning you get to run them twice on this out-and-back course. Yeehaw.

The first mile including this nostalgic hospital visit and incline comes at 8:38. Going down the steep decline I find I must slow down a little to keep control of Jato, my running blade. It is steeper than anything I've experienced and I realize I need to practice this scenario more for future races. Up the next incline and mile two is done in 8:20. A woman I am running near also offers some kind words...these utterances in the heat of our struggle always, ALWAYS inspire me as well. It reinforces my knowledge that runners represent the very best of sport. It is true. It is so. Olympians all.

There is one more smaller incline and then a long, slight decline before the 180o turnaround. Mile three comes at 8:21 and four at 8:22, approximate mirror images of each other. Somewhere I see Jennifer and she shouts some encouraging words, I wave but cannot return the gesture under my, uh, duress. The second pass of the next two inclines are taxing; I concentrate on smaller strides and turnover and hope I do not slow too much. It is a beautiful day that can be recalled later but not in the moment of battle. Mile 5 take 8:37, slower but under the stress is could have been much worse.

Water vapor off the Ashley River - Photo by S&L Photography (Jennifer)

Down the final decline and another pass by Roper. I look up at the very window of the room where I spent my post race recovery; I think I even pointed to it as a time traveler remembering the past and present, the near and the far. I do not feel the physical distress I was expecting, but I also find I cannot run much faster. Instinctively I know with more training I will continue to improve for some time. This is a good feeling to know, one that breeds confidence that is gold to a runner. Mile 6 is done...8:21

Right turn, then a left and I see the finish. Again the rough road and I take care not to trip; a few others pass me but I am not interested in taking a tumble and losing more than a little skin. Let it fly, run strong, I raise my arms as I cross the line.52:26 by my watch, this will be slightly fast than gun - and official - time.

*******

Exchanging some well-earned words of congrats and short chats with other runners, I recover a bit and can feel sweat sloshing in my liner. I find a quiet place at the end of the road and take a moment to gather myself, then return to the course to locate a sunny spot to wait for Jennifer. Watching other athletes run is always a joy for me... soon Sweetness and Light appears and we run together until parting for her finish.

We check the preliminary results and find I was 6th in my AG but Jennifer was visiting the hardware store, finishing 3rd in hers. After changing into some dryer clothes at the car, we return to the awards ceremony only to find there was an update in the results and Jennifer was 4th. This being the toughest local race course, more so than the single incline of the Cooper River Bridge Run, we very happy with our efforts.

*******

THE 12TH ANNUAL-JAMES ISLAND CONNECTOR RUN

                         10 Kilometer Road Race
           Charleston/James Island, S.C. Nov. 6, 2010
   Results by Race Management Systems(RMS) www.rmssports.com

Pl     Div/Tot No.   Name           Age S    City      Time    Pace
=== ===== == =========== === = =========== ==== ====
204 6/19 46 Richard Blalock 57 M Mount Pleasant 52:33   8:28

*******

We celebrate with a pancake breakfast at IHOP and take it easy for the rest of the day. On Sunday I plan to run 10 - 12 easy miles before having a hard week of training that should culminate with my first amp 20-miler, something that I should have done a month ago based on my training plan. I still hope to get some quality, higher mileage work in the bank that will allow me to have a better effort for my marathon.

I talked to Scott Rigsby after my 10k, where he noticed (via pic on Facebook) the test socket I was wearing looked big. Scott has been and continues one of the instrumental sources of knowledge and help in my journey - and many others that you may not know about. We talked about some of the technical issues and proactive things that can be done to improve amputee running. Scott is always so supportive of other disabled athletes, and showing this through actions, not just words. As I thought about my upcoming marathon, I know pursing dreams does not allow for much compromise; it has to be said:

Do, or do not. There is no "try." -Yoda

*******

Having run a few marathons as an able-bodied athlete, I do have a healthy respect and, yes, fear for the distance. Just as running has returned to me in a brighter light, so does the distance that will test me. On November 17, I will give a short talk to members of the Charleston Running Club about my race, and the charity I am raising money for here. I was both surprised and honored to be asked to do this; as you know I am certain my public speaking skills are rather pathetic. But I simply have to do what I can in honoring my friend Ashley Kurpiel and doing what I can to help find a cure for FOP.

***

During our lazy Sunday morning I heard "Bridge Over Troubled Waters," and thought about those twenty six point two miles, what I will be doing, and the why. I will do what I can do, there is no try.

I'll take your part
When darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

- Paul Simon

18 Down, 8.2 To Go

2010-10-31T21:48:00.000-04:00

Yay! I made my 18 miler today. Sure it was very v e r y s l o w but my socket did not stop me from completing my appointed rounds. It was a little warmer than I would have preferred, in the upper 70s, but I had a nice breeze now and then and never overheated.

Resting at mile 10

I had to stop several times to hit the reset button the final 8 miles. At my last rest stop, one of my nurses from Roper happens to be running by and we have a quick chat...so cool! I knew I would finish after that exchange, and finish I did. It had been exactly one month since my 17 miler and now I should be able to squeeze in four 20 milers to be minimally prepared for my marathon on January 15.

A 10k race next week...I will take it easier before my next big push, a 20 miler the following week.

What a Difference a (Few) Second(s) Make(s)

2010-10-31T21:14:00.004-04:00

The view...when you have finished the race

After my disappointing performance at the Dirt Dash half marathon, regardless of the why, I was hoping to run what I knew I was capable of, although my confidence had taken a hit. Confidence, for me, is the final piece of any race puzzle; if you have it on raceday you are rarely disappointed even if other factors like heat and wind conspire to slow your steps.

As Jennifer and I lined up for the Myrtle Beach Mini Marathon Half Marathon, I knew I was behind in my training, but felt I had put in enough work except for the long runs that my socket issues had sabotaged. This 13.1 mile race would test my mettle and the prosthesis; another disaster would mean some serious rethinking of my goals.

*******

We had dinner at Pane E Vino, a place I looked up on Google that was close by. As usual, you can read a wide range of reviews, but given its proximity and menu we thought we take a chance there. After a short detour (getting lost via GPS), we found our destination. We were greeted by our server who looked like a super-sized version (taller) of a friend of ours. Both Jennifer and I tried the homemade spaghetti; homemade pastas are an art and can be rather disgusting if made without skill and love. My dad told me many years ago something he learned in Italy - try an unfamiliar restaurant's spaghetti first, because if they can't make it good then there is little hope for their more expensive dishes.

It was quite delicious and we were also treated to an accordion player's music. Very nice, very pleasant and relaxing, just the thing for a prerace dinner.

*******

There were to be at least two wheelchair racers whom I wanted to meet at the race start and wish good luck, but was unable to see them. The runners were treated to a sword fighting display by characters from Medieval Times, a sponsor of this race and the location of the starting line. Not exactly my cup of tea, but the actors seemed quite adept in their skills. With the show over and the National Anthem played, we were down to business.

It was a little chilly so I was wearing a throw away shirt (ugly race tee) as was Jennifer. Off they go as we get ready to race...and...wait. Ten minutes. Finally the race officials get it together and we shuffle toward the starting line, close to 3000 runners squeeze down the narrow road with the usual fits and starts as everyone tries to get into their pace and out-of-place first timers find they are human speed bumps.

The first mile will be the slowest due to the congestion. Near the beginning of mile two I see a wheelchair athlete on the other side of the road, and I work my way over to say a few words. He is not in a racing chair and will have a long day ahead of him. Courage on wheels.

Although basically a very flat course, we run an overpass toward the end of mile 2. I am a little surprised that I run it under pace, and try to reel in my enthusiasm because I know what feels easy now will not be the same later.

Mile after mile slips by. I hear the sounds of the footsteps, bits of short conversations, and I'm grateful for kind words other runners give me. I overhear two guys discussing their music playlists; one is listening to Buffett and I can't quite make out what the other fellow is listening to. In my head I hear: what are you listening to?

Life.

I am generally following the 9 minute pace group, but they took off after the slower first mile and I choose not to make up time in big chunks. Around the 10k mark I catch them as we make our way for the final miles. A woman strikes up a conversation with me, she says this is her first half marathon and says I look like I have been a runner for a long time...guess the RaceReady shorts are a dead giveaway. She is dressed in black tights and a long sleeve top and I want to ask her if she isn't hot in the garb, but in an amazing moment of self-restraint decide not to, because if she is uncomfortable this will likely make her feel worse.

Down the road and I am concentrating on holding form and pace. If you are a runner, no doubt others have asked you what you think about while you are out there huffing and puffing. For 10ks and under, I am usually under enough stress that few extraneous thoughts receive much attention. Even for the longer distances where the physical stress is less in the early miles, I carry on few conversations with myself. I did have a short one today.

I'm running along, thinking I am having a much better run, one that I felt I was capable of but not sure if my scaled back training due to socket issues would allow me to enjoy. My lack of long runs concerned me and I felt that would likely catch up to me in the last miles. For a few steps I think about the runner I once was, someone who would be at least a minute or more faster than this amputee. Well, he is gone, and this is who I am. Then I hear, no, I am not gone, I am right here running with you.

Well now.

Shortly after mile 10 we turn and run parallel to the ocean on North Ocean Blvd. I know we run for about 2 miles before the last turn and finish, only I did not know most of the last mile would be on a concrete walkway and then the boardwalk itself. I can feel myself slowing and feel the tug of Mr. Walker asking me to join him. No no no keep moving forward, don't you stop. My hip flexor joins the Chorus of the Disgruntled. I sling it out in front, relax it as best I can, and keep moving. Keep moving forward. I hear voices from the high-rise hotels, see people on the sidewalk, but cannot make out conversations as I concentrate on inching toward the finish line.

Boardwalk finish line

We make the last turns and hit the winding concrete walk. There are several runners around me so it is not possible to cut the tangents, and we weave to and fro like drunken sailors. In the distance I try to find the first sight of the beloved finish line banner, but it is long in coming. Dang this dog is tired!

Finally I see home sweet finish line while we hit the wooden boardwalk. I pick up the pace slightly and see the clock ticking just over 2 hours. I raise my arms - no looking down to stop my watch - and cross the line.

By the time I turn off my watch I am unsure I have hit my goal, a sub 2 hour half. In fact I think I have narrowly missed it, but know I ran a hard race and am proud of my effort and need to be satisfied with that fact.

Finally the official results are posted:

Oh yeah! Sub 2 baby!

Finisher's medal / fridge magnet / bottle opener

Jennifer has a good race on what I'm sure she would consider minimal training. I am happy on several levels plus my adjusted test socket caused no problems. It will have one more long run test before I can give it a passing grade.

We meet up with Anna Gray from Floyd Brace, along with her sister and parents. We chat a bit and she gets a couple of pics, then Jen and I totter off to the awards area to hang out and finally catch the bus back to the starting line area.

*******

My marathon is back on track, not the faster one I had hoped for but still one I can live with. I've had to adjust my expected finish time upward; I still hope to be able to finish running and not in the death march I have known in previous races. That is not a pleasant experience, and I am anxious not to endure it needlessly.

With two months of training to go and then the taper, I should be able to get in four 20 mile long runs. They won't be as fast as I need to run them, rather, I will be mainly getting the miles in. Best scenario will then be a nice cool raceday and a body that decides to have a good day to run.

I have been thinking the marathon will be the end of this first book by this amputee runner. The last page closed before another can be opened. I am looking forward to all that is to come; I have many miles to go.

The Steadfast Tin Soldier

2010-10-20T21:12:00.000-04:00

I have this video on VHS tape from a long time ago. For some reason - or none at all - I was thinking about this story today. I was looking to buy it on DVD when I came across this site that has the entire animation on the lower left part of the page here. The story can be read here.

The last time I watched some of it was before Christmas 2008 with the family. I knew what I was planning to do, what I had to do, but it was not scheduled yet. I left the room because I knew what was to come.

No, I am no hero, never will be. Those souls are on the USS Arizona. At Ground Zero. In many lonely and lost and never visited places around this planet. But I can say I understand as I never could, and think perhaps this video can help you understand too.