Due diligence materials

I realize that I haven't really posted anything detailing the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America (CCFA) and its efforts to end Crohn's Disease and ulcerative colitis.  Which was not the smartest move on my part, given that I'm asking you all to part with hard-earned dollars just because I say it will make my life better.  But really, this isn't oceanfront property in Arizona I'm trying to sell.

CCFA consistently meets the standards of organizations that monitor charities, including the American Institute of Philanthropy, Better Business Bureau's Wise Giving Alliance, and Charity Navigator.  Over the years, CCFA has provided more than $150 million for Crohn's Disease and ulcerative colitis research.  Even though CCFA is not as well-funded as similar illness-based charities, it still manages to use a greater percentage of its revenue for research than its peer charities.  If you really like crunching numbers (I know some of you do), you can check out the more detailed information at CCFA's website.  

I know that I'm personally extremely grateful for CCFA's work.  Because of its research, I can usually lead a pretty normal life.  However, there's more to be done, as my medications don't always keep me out of flares.  And really, it wasn't very much fun needing to know where every bathroom is located in DeBartolo Hall.  I spent my senior year of college running out of classrooms as soon as lecture ended, not because of senioritis, but because I needed to get to the bathroom immediately.  There was the Fourth of July festival I skipped out on because of lack of bathroom facilities.  Or how about that time in a new city trying to meet friends where I declined an invite to go out with a friend and her friends because I was scared of spending the whole night in a dirty bar bathroom?  Oh, can't forget about all those nights I rushed home so that my husband wouldn't see me scrubbing the toilet to get rid of bloodstains.  Or when I lost so much blood that I couldn't climb a single flight of stairs without gasping for air.  And let me tell you, taking the LSAT during a flare is AWESOME!  The notorious game section is already time sensitive and I lost a good several minutes while I tried not to have an accident.  This is what life is like for an IBD patient, even one whose illness is considered to be under control.  Every single dollar helps CCFA improve treatment options for patients so that we patients can live a little easier.


And don't worry, I'll return to funny footwear blog posts soon. 

I knew my shoe collection was missing something!



Oh come on.  You know you want your own boot.  All the cool kids are wearing them--they are totally in for summer.  Or not.

So yeah, there you have it.  Possible stress fracture in my left foot, so I'm supposed to wear the boot for two weeks and rest.  Xrays were inconclusive which is normal for stress fractures.  If the pain goes away, yay, but if not I'm supposed to get a MRI to identify the location of the stress fracture.  I'm hoping it magically gets better.  Oh and to make this all even more fabulous, it is my left hip that is giving me problems.  Turns out, I have bursitis.  Awesome.  You should see me handle turns in this thing, with a bad hip to boot.  (Get it?  Hehehe.)

Appearances can be deceiving.

If you saw me on the street and didn't know me, I wouldn't stand out.  I'm of average height, average build, brown hair, etc.  I look like what I am--a thirtysomething professional woman.  I dress according to my local uniform.  If you saw me in my natural habitat, there's nothing that would cause you to remember me.  From the outside, I look completely normal.

What you don't see when you pass me in the crowd is that to stay anonymously normal, I take a crapload of pills.  Every.Single.Day.  This is a picture of the prescription medicines I take so that I can live a "normal" life:

Every day I take all these pills.  They are what keep me in remission.  If my UC is flaring up, add 4 or 5 prednisone tablets, plus a few iron pills because I'm probably anemic as well.   And, this medicine regime is actually not all that bad.  I've got one friend who has to keep herself on a strict diet to stay healthy and another friend who gives herself an injection of Humira every other week.  Plus there are plenty of patients who need Remicade infusions every few weeks. 

This, my friends, is why I run and why I'm begging for donations to end Crohn's Disease and ulcerative colitis.  Call me selfish, but I don't like taking all these pills and I want a cure that doesn't involve the total removal of my colon.  All those blue pills you see above didn't exist when my dad was first diagnosed and they represent a huge improvement in IBD treatment.  Without those pills, I wouldn't be able to hide in the crowd.  I wouldn't know what remission feels like and I certainly wouldn't be able to run a few blocks, much less a half-marathon.  Those blue pills wouldn't have been possible without an earlier generation's generous donations to the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation to fund research.  But as you can see, those are a lot of pills. 

Let's find a cure.  



DNF

Three little letters.  So short, so simple.  So much disappointment.

Did.Not.Finish.

Yup, that was me yesterday.  I still can't believe that after all that training I couldn't make it.  I tried really hard, really.  But at mile 8, I started to have pain in my hip again.  I tried running through it, but a mile later I had to stop and stretch.  And walk.  And gradually the stretch/walk breaks became more frequent until the last attempt at running at mile 11.  I took one step running and my left leg almost buckled underneath me.  So I walked.  For another 10 miles until they closed the course.  I was determined not to go down without a fight. 
Today I feel a little better physically, which makes me wonder that I should have tried harder yesterday and pushed through the pain.  Rationally I know this was silly, since by about mile 15 or 16 I could barely lift my leg on the curb to stretch.

So now it is time to lick my wounds and get ready for the half in Napa (you know, the reason for this blog and for fundraising.)  My goal is to set a new PR.  I figure if I can get this hip thing figured out I should be in shape to get a PR.  And then it is time to figure out which marathon I will try next.  I'm pretty angry about the way yesterday turned out.  I am not a quitter so to not finish goes against every fiber of my being.  That said, I know there are lessons to be learned from yesterday's race and some of the most important lessons we learn are the most difficult to endure.  I just need to figure out what yesterday's lessons are and apply them going forward.

To end on a positive note, thanks to all who saw my facebook update yesterday and called/emailed/commented/texted.  Your thoughts mean SO MUCH to me and I'm incredibly grateful for the support. Thanks also to everyone who has supported me in training for this attempt.  Also, the St. Louis Marathon was a really great course with great volunteers and spectators.  Thanks to all those who cheered me on through my tears and limping, and for staying on the course until the bitter end.  And finally, a giant thanks to my awesome husband who stayed with me the whole time.  He did the training and was having a great race--and gave it all up to help out Gimpy McGimpsalot*.  So give Michael a giant virtual round of applause for being a great husband.

Onward and upward--next stop Napa!

*The nickname I earned after Blood Clot #1.

The taxman cometh

I know, this time of year sucks.  I mean, it's gorgeous outside and flowers are blooming, but in the background is that tax bill that has to be paid.  Blargh.  BUT THERE IS AN ANSWER!  Remember, charitable donations (such as to the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, by way of Team Golden Colon!) are tax deductible.  You too can have an effective tax rate in the single digits, just like Warren Buffet or Mitt Romney!  So, while it may be too late for that bill due next week, you can get a jump on next year by donating today.  It's easy and safe to do online--just click on the "Donate Now" link on the right.

Also, as a reminder, we still need zombie motivators for Sunday! 

Introducing Our New Coach

Behind every great runner stands a great coach (or a motivational zombie - a position that is still open by the way). Here at Team Golden Colon, that's certainly the case. So as we enter the final week before the St. Louis Marathon, we thought it would be good if you could meet our coach. We'll let her introduce herself:

Hello there, I'm Lisa, the coach of Team Golden Colon. You may remember me from places like the annual Christmas letter, in which I'm often seen presenting a list of grievances while wearing a ridiculous pair of reindeer antlers. Little did you know that I'm also a preeminent running coach. I'm so fast, I actually caught a possum a few weeks ago. These people could learn from me. Besides, I am a champion - I've even got the medal to prove it.

Now, some of you may be unconvinced. I know, I know, I don't have the typical runner's body. But that's simply because I make sure I'm well fueled. Still not convinced? I humbly submit as proof the amount of sleeping I do after early morning long runs. Surely I wouldn't have to sleep so much if I wasn't right there training my proteges, right?

So there you have it. The secret to the success of Team Golden Colon is me - Lisa the running coach. I'll be right there with them next week in St. Louis, so look for me at the finish line. Wait, what's that? I'm not going to St. Louis? I'm going to the kennel? I hate you people.

Wow, that was inspirational. If you would like to hire Lisa as your running coach, her going rate is a bowl of food, some apple, and 30 minutes rubbing her belly. On a different note, if you'd like to go with Michael to see the Royals play the Tigers on Tuesday, April 17 with some of the proceeds from ticket sales benefiting Team Golden Colon and the CCFA, contact Katie or Michael.