I Took a Pill and I Liked It!*

*Alternate titles:  

  • Heaven, Thy Name is Macrobid
  • Yippee for Pain-Free Pee

Hopefully you’re singing Katy Perry now…

No more setting fire to the rain, people!  My good doctor required no shaking of the lapels before prescribing an antibiotic.  He didn’t even test my urine…perhaps he just saw the look of desperation in my eyes.  He gave me Macrobid and said that it should help quickly, and it did.

Now I feel like this, only with Number 1 instead of Number 2…

Oh God, now I’m laughing and can’t stop…which might make me have to go pee, which is fine by me because it doesn’t hurt anymore!

That rhymes…need to go pee, fine by me!  Okay, maybe this antibiotic is making me silly.  I’ll try to pull myself together.

One way to get serious?  To vent about my hair loss and recent weight gain.  The doctor and I had a lovely consultation, and I mentioned to him that I have gained between 15-20 pounds since moving back to ‘Murica a year ago.  I’ve attributed it to many things…U.S. food and portion sizes, stopping CrossFit and thus losing a lot of muscle, focusing solely on running (and distance running to boot, with little speedwork) instead of mixing up my cardio (running slow distances and training your body to do so more effectively is a big ol’ prescription for weight gain, imho, not weight loss, but I don’t do it for weight management, I do it because I love it!), and turning 40. 

Still, it seems like a lot to me.  Maybe not.  Who knows?  He said that I was still at a decent weight and that I looked great to him, but that the number change was a little disconcerting given my level of physical activity.  Before the weight gain, I was at a pretty fit weight, so I think it isn’t overwhelmingly obvious, but it’s definitely there.  I’m  a chubby pear shape lately.

Further, I’ve developed a bald spot on my left temple.  I disregarded it the first 5-10 times I noticed it, thinking it was just the way I’d combed my ponytail, but eventually I realized that it really was there and not just a poor comb job.  The doctor said there’s a definite patch of hair loss that might be spreading.


Given those issues (and a few other tmi quirks that I shall not mention here), he wants me to have a full workup with an endocrinologist.  He sent me upstairs to the endocrinology practice to book a consult.  Ooh, lucky me…they’re booked up until the end of October.

Maybe that receptionist didn’t realize that I could be bald and 200 pounds by then.  Perhaps she didn’t know that my urethra was burning a hole through my pelvic region.  I wanted so badly to beg, but I knew it wouldn’t help and that there are people waiting for a consultation with problems FAR worse than a slight bald patch and a slowly expanding muffin top.  My vanity issues can wait.

So I run.  I’m headed out soon for a 4-6 miler, depending on my stamina and my urethra.  I’m really looking forward to it after two days off.  Next week is the beginning of official training for my next half-marathon, and I just found an upcoming 10k that I think I’ll sign up for too.  I might run a 5k or two in August as well…trying to decide.  

Happy running and TGIF, readers!  Here’s to keeping your hair on your head and your urethra in the clear!  And to those who gave tips in their comments, thank you very much…


Pain, Embarrassment and Toxic Exposure in 1.67 Miles

I am now signed up for the Waddell and Reed half marathon on October 19th, and my  12-week training starts next week.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve decided to go with Hal Higdon’s Intermediate program.  He got me through my first marathon, and so I think he must be a god.

I’m debating training paces and goal times in my head, and I’m basically all over the place, which is kind of how I roll these days in general.  Anything over 2:00 for the race will probably result in heavy drinking and self-flagellation.  No question.  

A 1:55 is the most reasonable target, I think.  It would not be a PR, but it seems closer to my best possible time at this stage, since I have not been running too fast and since I no longer do CrossFit, which I think helped me run faster back in the day (the bursts of the WODs and their high intensity were much like interval training.)

I decided to head out yesterday to do some speedwork–5 x 400m repeats.  I’m scheduled to start running them next week, and I wanted to see if 1:55 was a manageable pace for them.  I mapped out a straight 400m section in our neighborhood and jogged a leisurely warmup to my designated spot.

I should mention at this point that I woke up Monday morning (an off day for exercise) feeling like I was developing a urinary tract infection (UTI).  Men, imagine the end of your penis constantly burning and a sensation of needing to pee every two minutes.  You want to go to the bathroom constantly because you have this strong need to go to try and get rid of the burning feeling and sensation of fullness, but it hurts when you do (and when you don’t).

Genius that I am, I didn’t think it would affect my running.  Dork that I am, even if I had thought it would affect my running, I would have given it a try anyway.

Imagine my dismay when I approached my starting point and saw a posse of construction workers about halfway down my 400m stretch, standing around doing nothing.  Apparently the city is repaving one of the side streets in the neighborhood, and this group of guys must have been in between duties (I am not going to be rude and make snarky comments about how many men have to stand around doing nothing on the taxpayers’ dime.  Surely they were just waiting for something to dry/cure/arrive.)

And me in my hot pink tank.  Oh dear.  If there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s folk music Honey Boo Boo social conservatives attention.  Could there be anything more embarrassing than me flailing by these men at what I consider breakneck speed, wheezing for air with my boat-sized feet flapping out to the sides while not even running the equivalent of an 8:00 mile?  I think not.

Further, the smell of tar was everywhere.  It was noxious, and it permeated the air, hanging there about head high just waiting to bury itself into my cilia the moment I took a big honking death gasp.

And I’m going to run by these guys five times (and jog back by them five more) for my first speedwork session in close to 10 months?  While giving cancer a personal invitation into my body?

I decided that I was not about that scene and fled, choosing instead to just turn my run into a 4-miler.  Easy and productive, right?


Ladies, I have advice for you.  If you have a UTI, don’t run.  Don’t even try.  That feeling of pain and burning is magnified by 1,000 when you run.  Every time my feet hit the asphalt, I felt like I was going to pee spicy salsa or straight-up acid.  

I tried to stick it out–I did.  But after 1.67 miles, I realized that I wasn’t doing my body or my running any favors, and nobody was around to hand out medals for toughness.  I walked home and drank approximately 50 gallons of water to try and make enough urine to flush the demons or at least cut down the level of pain.

I am headed to the doctor today, conveniently enough, for other issues, but my first act shall be to grab him by his coat and shake some Cipro right out of him.  Then I will mention the bald spot on my left temple and the fact that I am gaining weight at an unprecedented pace.  Then I shall shake a thyroid test out of him lickety split–perhaps a tough task given that he tested my thyroid back in October and it came back as a top performer.

Sorry for the TMI…this balding weight-gaining hurting chick has no filter today.  Hopefully I will be back to running pain- and construction worker- free soon!  And BTW, a big thank you to those who left comments and good wishes on my anniversary post.  I appreciated them very much!

Happy running!