CHARLIE UPDATE:
Well, the biopsy results are back and Charlie is fine. Five hundred dollars worth of fine. The lump, it seems, was not even of the fairly common and suspected fatty-tumor-variety, but in fact a self-inflicted abscess caused by licking himself (to which I have to say: He is a dog. Isn’t that, like, what they do? Why is this not more commonly known and how come NOTHING about it came up when I searched online?).
We are of course thrilled that Charlie is healthy, and that we have caught his weight problem before it turned into some chronic health crisis. But I can’t help drawing an eerie parallel between this and when our cat, Dinah, pulled the same kind of $500-self-mutilation and scratched her own eye (I swear she did. She wore the Cone of Shame for weeks because of it), resulting in a permanent squint that does nothing for her already menacing overall look.
I did mention to Doug that if Drew turns out to be a cutter, we will have to seriously re-evaluate our parenting philosophy. Because therapy can run $500 a week for that sort of thing.

We had a little health scare at home - Charlie the dog had a tumor! It was on his ankle, and the vet wasn’t gravely concerned, but Charlie had to have the lump removed and biopsied last Friday. I can’t even cope with the idea of a crappy diagnosis for anyone I love, pets included. In fact, I am calling a total moratorium on tumors in the house. No more are allowed, ever. Anyone found with one should be prepared to face the consequences.

Charlie also, it seems, is fat.

I have noticed him rounding out over the past few months since Drew learned to sleep under circumstances other than strapped to my chest in the Baby Bjorn, wandering endlessly around the streets of Oakland with the dog. When we went to the vet in March for shots he weighed 86 pounds. Big, yes, but just right for his size (gigantic). Last week he tipped the scales at 102, and was immediately put on a special (read: expensive) new high-fiber meal plan.
When I told all this to Melanie, she said, “Oh, I could tell. When I was at your house other day I hardly recognized him.” Like he was someone we’d gone to high school with who’d put on 75 pounds!

Ironically, the tumor removal procedure puts Charlie on the DL as far as training with me goes. We ran 4 miles on Thanksgiving, but that will be all for him until his stitches heal in about 2 weeks. I, on the other hand, am beginning to get more comfortable with running for prolonged periods of time (more than 30 minutes), and can actually see how, with a lot more work, I will be able to make it for the whole half-marathon.

This weekend at our run in Walnut Creek, one of my Team in Training Honorees, Brenda, was there with her two boys. She had a stem cell transplant in September (her second) to fight a recurrence of Leukemia, and was a reminder of why I signed up to do this in the first place.

I am so grateful for my friends and family and the opportunity to participate with Team in Training.

As always, thank you for your support!

So, I am a runner, you know. I run.
As in: Oh, sorry I was late this morning, I was out running. Or, whew! What a great run! (OK, I haven’t actually said the latter, it’s more like, whew! I can’t believe I’m still alive! But those are just details).
All of this has been eclipsed by the fact that as of this week, my 10-month old son is a walker. He walks. Like, oh hey, I was over there by the sofa, but now I am going to walk over here, to the single uncovered electrical outlet in our house. Or maybe over here, to where the dog’s water is – oops! So my circling of Lake Merritt (and then some, I’ll have you know) doesn’t seem quite so monumental. I’ve done it before. In high school.
But baby Drew has never actually taken unassisted steps before, so it is truly a big deal. Especially since in, like, June, I was worried that he would never sit up by himself. At the rate he is going, I suspect he’ll be able to run this half marathon with me in February.

The official training has just begun, making me VERY glad I was unofficially sweating it out for a few weeks beforehand. Charlie, our 3-year-old lab/border collie mix, is also appreciative of the running and has not been holding back when he accompanying me around the neighborhood. For those of you who have met Charlie, you know that he is a very enthusiastic canine, and he is out to prove all of the people who assured us that he’d “calm down when he’s about 2” wrong. In fact, he’s even more excited these days, because since the baby came along, you can imagine how his exercise schedule has taken a backseat to diapers and naptime.

If it would not reflect very poorly upon me as a parent, I might be inclined to channel all of this walking and running into a routine where we just give Drew the leash and let him and the dog kick around the block until they’re tired while I sit on the couch icing my knees and eating cupcakes.

But of course I would never do that.

October 16, 2006

I am training to participate in the Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon on February 4, 2007, as a member of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team In Training.

You are of course thinking that this is an obvious move. Sybil = Endurance Athlete in so many of your minds already. Indeed, as I gasp my way through 3 miles on the treadmill at Gold’s Gym, another 10.2 miles on uneven terrain seems as likely as another fifty.

But in the 3 years since I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, I have come to believe that nothing is impossible to endure or accomplish. My hair grew back. I had a kid. I’m still in remission. I can learn to run for as long as it takes to watch The Lord of the Rings.

During the difficult diagnosis and treatment phase of my journey, the information and support provided by the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society was invaluable. All of us on Team In Training are raising funds to help benefit the Society, whose mission it is to cure leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin's disease and myeloma, and improve the quality of life of patients and their families. It is Team in Training’s pledge to put at least 75% of all donations directly towards research, financial assistance for patients undergoing treatment, and support resources for families affected by blood cancers.

Please make a donation to support my participation in Team In Training and help advance the Society's mission.

I mean, I had cancer. Come on.

BONUS: I will be updating this page regularly with witty commentary on the training process and pictures of my child. For those of you who enjoyed my previous work on Caringbridge this is sure to be much more uplifting. Be sure to check back frequently to see my progress.
Thanks for your support!

http://www.active.com/donate/tntgsf/sybil