A Race a Surgery and a Recovery

OK its been awhile since I last posted but hey I have been busy!  So this post will try to bring everyone up to speed if any is following me!  On November 18th I ran my last race of the year.  It was the Spartan Sprint in Fenway.  What a great race for a number of reasons! My son ran the one mile kid obstacle race and went off with the elite kid group which I still have no idea how he managed to do.  He did a great job and finished very quick but more importantly had FUN!  Then there was my race.  This was the first race that I ran as part of a team.  I highly recommend it to anyone!  It is a totally unique and different experience then running a Spartan race solo.  I also found it much more rewarding.

I had been training hard for this race pushing the mileage and getting up to 15 miles or so.  Why would I do this for a 3 mile race.  Well you can never over train for a Spartan and I also new that a little over a week later I was having surgery and would be sidelined for 3-4 weeks.  I wanted to build the best base I could to speed recovery from surgery and also hopefully jump start my training once I was cleared to resume.  SO why did I need surgery?  In July while training for the another Spartan I developed a fairly large incisional hernia.  Nothing painful but very annoying and disgusting.  I also knew long term it was only going to get worse.  I schedule surgery to coincide with what I thought my down period was going to be or could be as I did not know I was going to be accepted for the DFMC, hell at the time I schedule the thing I never even thought I would run a marathon.  Well luckily surgery went well and I am not a little over 3 weeks post-op and feel fantastic.  Well as fantastic as once can feel after surgery.  I have not run since surgery but my body is craving the feeling and I know I will be running this week again.  Until then happy running and I hope everyone has a fantastic holiday season!

Base Camp

I haven't posted much the past few days due for time. Time seems to be my enemy these days and not having enough of it! I am sure that I am not alone in this but I thought I would write about it anyway. 

I have been running and working out a lot and it finally caught up to me.  My body finally said enough!  It started slow with the thighs taking a half mile then a mile and then two miles to warm up to “feel good”.  This is when I decided to pull back and go back to base camp or in other word spend time with my family. 

 

Why do I call my family base camp?  Great question!  I am a firm believer in the Hal Higdon idea (at least that’s where I traced it back to!) that a marathon is a horizontal Everest.  When you climb Everest there are a series of small climbs and then returns to a base camp to re-acclimate and recover.  Well in all of vigor to run Boston I forgot the importance of rest and recovery, not only physically but also mentally.

I have found I love to run because it is my time alone with my own thought and most of the time nothingness.  I am a runner that usually has a blank mind and tries to put thinking aside when I run.  Sure sometimes I will think of a great idea like baby tic tacs (most babies have horrible breathe!) or Under Armour should have an exchange program for people that lose weight wearing their products but most of the time I am blank!  Lately though lots of thoughts had begun to creep into my runs about all the things I wasn’t doing because I was running.  Top on that list was all the general “honey do” items I needed to get done before the impending winter and how I hadn’t spent a fun morning with my kids in a long time.  So finally last week I decided that I need to return to my base camp.  So this weekend I woke up late if you call 6 or 7 am late, got 90% of the “honey do” list done and spent wonderful mornings with my family. 

A return to base camp though does not mean a complete void in exercise.  It means thinking about exercise differently!  I fit in some yoga, which will be another post just for comic relief, a little cross training in the form or yard work and a lot of walking some with a 50 pound person on my back.  While for most this would not have been a refreshing weekend I think it’s exactly what my batteries needed.  Now on to the next base camp and getting a little further up the mountain!

 

First DFMC Team Meeting

Yesterday was my first team meeting for the DFMC and I have to say I was impressed with the organization and leadership of the team but more impressed with my fellow teammates.  It was amazing seeing close to 100-150 people out of the 500 or so on the team in one room.  The excitement and energy was tangible.  I was relieved to see so many newcomers like myself who were not only running for DFMC for the first time but also in their first marathons.  The best part of the night was going to Boston Beer Works for a few pints after the meeting.  It was great to hear all the stories and reasons why people are running as well from people that had been part of the team before.  I can’t wait to go on the long team runs and hopefully can make some of the Thursday night runs as well.

Some quotes that I think resonated with me from last night are:

·         You thought you signed up for a race but you really signed up to fundraise.

·         The marathon is a celebration not a final exam!

·         Anyone’s goal should be to finish anything else is just bonus.

·         A marathon is a horizontal Everest

Why I am Running for DFMC Part II

Well the simple answer is that my dad also passed from cancer.  Like my mothers his was preventable if he had taken care of himself and gotten yearly check ups.  My father passed away in November 2004 of metastatic colon cancer.  His cancer was discovered when it ruptured his intestines.  He recovered from this but lived the rest of his life with a colostomy bag.  Please if your reading this and are of the age to get a colonoscopy please do so.  I am of firm belief if my father had gotten annual exams and colonoscopies beginning at age 40 he would still be here.  Its hard because in some sense I blame him for his own death.  His older brother died of the same disease early in his life and his father had been treated for polyps. 

I will say for the good majority of my life all I can remember him doing is taking care of my mother.  She was in a steady state of need support and he was always there for her.  He was an incredible father and husband always putting himself last and our needs first.  It wasn't until I was much older that the full impact, financially and emotionally of my mothers sickness came to light.  

Being an only child and a namesake male brings a lot of pressure both from the world and what you put on yourself.  My father was the one who taught me to ignore pressure from the outside and to be yourself.  He was a great teacher and an even better friend.  He also taught me that with a family came responsibility.  He was very much responsible for looking out for not only my mother and I but his parents.  It was not until after his death I realized how much responsibility he carried.

During my mothers battle with cancer he diagnosed and fought hard.  He never lost hope and in fact was recovering well.  I don't think his golf game had been better in years!  I know he took my mothers passing very hard and it was tough for me to leave and go back to my life knowing he was alone.  After my mom passed Janet and I went on a vacation that had been planned for over a year to  celebrate my graduation.  It was a long two weeks for me not being in daily contact with him.

When we got back I resumed my daily calls.  We decided that since I was coming home for Thanksgiving that I wouldn't visit.  This in retrospect is something I regret as I had wanted to see my dad the weekend before he passed away but he had convinced me to wait.  

Getting the call from my aunt is something that I will never forget and to this day thinking of it makes me cry.  It sucked and was totally unexpected.  It was the longest 8 hour drive of my life.  I feel like in those 8 hours I went from being a boy to a man.  I was forced to make a decision about donating my fathers organs, which I did.  His eyes were the only organ I could donate though due to the cancer. I had to begin planing his funeral.  I also somehow seemed to become the patriarch of my entire family extended family filling the role my father had just left.  I made decisions that I don't think anyone as young as I was (28) should ever have to make. Needless to say having 2 parents die 2 months apart did not do good things for my weight!

So when did I know I was going to be OK,  I guess always know the support my wife and her family provided but there was a clear moment for me.  It was when I got the call from the vet that was neutering my parents dog so that I could take him back to live with us.  It was mandatory in my apartment complex that all dogs be spayed or neutered so it was one of the last things I did before going back to Maryland.  I was sitting in the lawyers office finalizing things when the call came in.  I am not sure why I answered as it was totally inappropriate at the time.  I am glad I did as Brutus, my parents dog had literally dropped dead.  I kid you not nothing had beed done to the dog but he just up and died!  Why is it at this moment I knew I was going to be OK, mostly because all I could do was laugh and think are you f'ing kidding me.

Raymond I Forslund Jr.
08/15/1945-11/11/2004

Why I am running for DFMC

All pictures were taken at my wedding Oct. 21, 2000.  They are not great but its all I have of the three of us.  Both my parent hated being in photos.  I alway wished there was more picture of the three of us together but I always thought there would be plenty of time and many more memories to be made.  It might be why that I try to take so many pictures of my family and the time that we spend together.

The story starts in 2003 when my parents told me my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer.  This in itself was not surprising given that both my parents had smoked since they were 16 or so.  Since my grandmother died of lung cancer in 1992 I had been on my parents to stop but never successful.  Add to the fact that my mother had open heart surgery in 1997 and had numerous heart attacks and bypasses I had always waited for the night time call to come but it never did, she was a true fighter.

My mother battled hard and I was with her on her first day of chemo.  Being a chemist she wanted me to be there to explain things to her and try to make sense out of everything that was happening.    Over the next few month she fought through things and started to win her battle with cancer.  

Right about this time I got a call on Aug 14, 2004 (yes day of the famous east coast blackout!) that my dad became suddenly and deathly ill and I need to get home to see him.  My wife and I drove from Chicago and got there the next day.  When I arrived he was in the ICU.  Miraculously he recovered fully and to this day no one knows exactly what he had.  From this time on both my parents got better and started to live their lives again.  I went back to Chicago to finish my PhD and life went on.  Unfortunately the story does not end there.

From that day on I called my parents everyday.  Then one day in November I noticed my mother was slurring her words.  I told her she needed to see her doctor.  In my mind I knew what had happened but  no one really spoke of it. We (Janet, my wife we'll get to her) went home for Christmas and pretend like everything was fine.  We celebrated my graduation and new job and my parents promised me they would take my mom to see a doctor for her speech.

In February I got the call that I had subconsciously been preparing myself for, the cancer had spread to he brain.  The rest of that year Janet and I drove to see her every Thursday and left on Sunday.  I should mention that the drive was from DC to Albany!  She fought until September 4, 2004.  I feel lucky that I was there when she passed and got to be part of one of her most lucid moments in weeks.  Some people say that there is a last awaking before one passes and I witnessed my mothers.  I will save my fathers story for another post.

Pamela Forslund
11/20/1950-9/4/2004

 

The Before Picture

 

So since this is my first post maybe I should let everyone know a little about me. I am currently 1 year postop from RNY surgery and down 120 lbs. I began my process in January of 2011 and due to personal and professional conflicts I had surgery in Aug 2011.  I have been struggling with my weight my entire life. Up until my 5 year old son beat me in a foot race I never thought my weight impacted my life. I was happy and enjoyed being called big guy, boss and in used my size to my advantage. Then reality set in and I discovered I simply could not lose the weight like I use too. It just wouldn't come off and I was really struggling to keep below 320! That’s when I made the decision I needed to do something drastic and life changing like gastric bypass since all other attempts had failed.
I spent months pre-op talking to family, friends and coworkers for "the day". I was surprised by all the positive response I received with only one coworker asking me if I ever considered just eating less even though they had no idea of my eating habits.  They thought that since gastric bypass was just  a way to control portion size and over eating.  Oh how they were wrong.  I was excited for what my life post-surgery will hold for me. I knew it was going to be a long and difficult road but well worth it in the end.

This is me in May of 2011 at my heaviest taken on a trip to China.  Looking back at this picture I do not recognize this person.  I often wonder how I let myself get like this and likely I will spend time in this blog talking about my journey to this picture and more importantly my journey from this picture.  As you can see in the picture I was a happy guy and honestly not a lot has changed since my surgery.  I really feel when I look in the mirror today I see the same the person that I always saw except now I am not lying to myself.  The biggest change for me has come mentally.

For all those pre-opt patients out there that didn't know it along with gastric bypass comes a useful brain transformation.  Sounds amazing but true. I think it is likely caused by risking your life to get healthy.  Yes a low risk but any major surgery is risky especially since I am sure that none of use was in the best of health beforehand. Anyway a few examples of this miraculous change have occurred over the last year and I thought I should write about them here in the beginning.
Probably the most important change for me has been exercise. I, like the rest of the world, work full time, have kids and wife and a life, so don't have a lot of time to exercise. Well at least that’s what I use to say.  Now exercise is something that I need to have and make time for and realize any exercise no matter how short is better than none at all.  Now a days if I wake up early I see it as a great time to get a work out in.  In the old days I use to lay there after the alarm (set specifically to go work out) went off and think "I'll do it later" then fall asleep. Now I drag my but out of bed and go do it.
Next to this change is my outlook on life. I look as my life as before surgery and after surgery very differently.  I see the after surgery future as a new beginning and a new me. I want to be the dad coaching (which I am) and not the one sitting on the sidelines.  I want to be the dad to take my kids camping, fishing and hiking. I want to be a grandparent someday still doing the things I did when I was young.  

After the surgery I have found my own self-motivation to do all the things we talk about but never do before surgery.  People ask "couldn't you have done the same thing by changing your diet and routine the way you have."  My answer is maybe but it’s nothing like getting a kick in the pants and having a daily reminder of an 8 inch scar on your stomach of why you’re doing this. I view my scar on my belly (which is large since I had open RNY) as a badge of honor and source of my new found motivation.