Time for the ritual stock-taking after another tour ’round the sun. A year ago, I was wrapping up a grand stretch of good health, happy reunions and magic moments on Memory Lane. Still, I worried that I was only clearing a low bar and was not particularly robust, though better than I had been for a long time. I did not wish to celebrate overmuch such a small victory.
A year later I’m here to say: Raise the roof! This has been a fantastic year.
I have had no hospital time except as chauffeur for others having tests or low-risk procedures. I have been able to return to jogging, though I had some early minor bleeding around scar tissue. Through jogging, I have connected with a number of less experienced runners and have gotten a big boost from coaching them and sharing in their enthusiasm and triumphs. I get to use what I know to help others. I can keep them from painful mistakes; I can soften any blows just by letting them know someone else has been there, done that and gotten through; I can encourage so that they have light in darkness.
I’m considerably slower and less durable than I used to be, but coaching gives me a connection and a purpose that is every bit as good as racing. Suzy and I have gotten closer, too, as she has taken to running in the past several months. Jogging in good company has helped her relieve stress, lose weight and have fun. She was self-conscious and didn’t want to slow me down in my racing days, but now that she has seen me working with other learners, she appreciates my coaching and encouragement. We have found something to do together, and it helps me to have her along as I return gently to what I had lost for a time.
And I have so enjoyed bragging on my trainees: Everyone has been faster, fitter and seemingly happier; one has lost 25 pounds; one is breaking state records; another is starting a running club at college. Seems like we’re at the heart of a little running boom in the area, and I’m expanding a circle of friends as I volunteer at races, blog about running and post on group forums.
We’ve also put walking and fighting disease together as we continue to serve the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of America through its Take Steps walks in Arkansas. Suzy and I have worked with the Arkansas CCFA office since shortly after its formation in late 2009. Two walks in Little Rock and a third in Bentonville have raised $200,000 to fight my disease and help patients. My computer and editing skills have helped a few of us do some heavy lifting to make these events a success (the next one is Oct. 29 in Bentonville). I also played guitar and sang (more or less) at two local fundraisers, and I even wrote a potty-humor song about my condition. Friends have rallied around us, donating to the cause and providing venues, support and music for these fundraiser concerts. Heartwarming to have support, uplifting to be able to offer it to new patients.
Through my volunteer work, coaching and limited, low-stress part-time work, I have also been able to test the depth of my disability. I still wear down too easily; I still spend a day in recovery if I push too hard. I try to keep myself to no more than four hours of strain in a day and even that only a few times a week. If I do four hours of hard work, I try to scatter the load with easy chores over six or eight hours of clock. I am enjoying being useful and productive, but I still recognize that I absolutely cannot be the constant mover I was.
The part-time work has eased the financial burden as our North Little Rock house remains unsold, but we remain one short step from ruin. We are holding on, we are giving back, we are far more fortunate than most — but we live at the edge of a cliff.
This year, though, the sun is out and I am dancing on the rocks, not shivering in the wind worrying I’ll be blown over the edge.