just finish

I've been a bad, bad marathoner.

A few weeks of suffocating workload followed by a week of colonoscopy + Tysabri somehow resulted in three (count them, three) missed weeks of training. In my defense, I had to finish the work or I would have been fired. And you can't really run when you're under anesthesia with a tube up your ass (if you can do this, please contact me: We have a lot to talk about).

However, the frigid truth remains that I will, come hell or high water, be completing the half marathon on December 5 on behalf of the CCFA, and I will be raising that money for research for our intestines, and I will set a good example for other Crohns who think they may want to run a half-marathon someday, for whatever deeply disturbed reason.

Today I went back to training. I did it on a treadmill at the gym, with the assistance of Pandora's Akon radio. (This was a special occasion, as I usually save Akon for writing, but I divined that I would need the extra push of the Soul Poet today.) I was right. This run was... just short of a near-death experience. Even with walk breaks. Even with Akon. Even with a voice inside my head alternating furiously between stick and carrot:
Voice A: Move it, you sorry sack of brussels sprouts! What a disgrace.
Voice B: You can do it! Great job! Just a few more miles!
Voice A: Is that the best you can do? I'm appalled!
Voice B: This is great! Look at you!

I finished. Not gracefully, but I finished.

And that's just what I'm going to do on December 5.

After my colonoscopy last week, I received the best report I've had in 19+ years of Crohn's Disease. This is probably the healthiest I'll ever be (unless a cure is found, in which case, whoa, everyone). But that doesn't mean I can do more than I've ever done before. In fact, it may mean the opposite. To keep my Crohn's in this kind of remission, my body is working extremely hard. It takes energy to stay in remission. And being given a good report at the doctor's office after 20 years of Crohn's isn't the same as being given that same report after 3 years, or 6 years, or 9 years. The effects are cumulative, your body gets older, and the apex of your physical ability isn't constant --- no matter how "well" you are.

There's a part of me that, in the spirit of Voice A, tells me I have no excuse but to run as fast and as hard and as long as anyone else. After all, I got a great report at the doctor's office. I'm in remission. But the other part of me knows I don't need an excuse. I don't need an excuse for anything. I'm already going above and beyond what my body can do, whether I run or walk or crawl the half marathon. Does this mean I can't do what other people can do? Absolutely not. It just means I have to do it differently.

I know a lot of you struggle with this back-and-forth too. I'm well/I'm sick; I'm normal/I'm different; I can/I can't. You can. You may just have to find your own way of doing what you want to do. I know people look down on those who walk the lion's share of a marathon, or who need breaks, or who run slowly. But I don't care about those people. I care about us. I'm finishing the race. I'm doing it my way.

PS. In the coming weeks I'll be posting more about my runs and my progress. If you want to support my run for more and better CCFA research and haven't had a chance yet, there's still plenty of time. Just click here.