Meet Finn

Obviously the past few months have been difficult..beyond words. But to help brighten our days, my mom and I decided to jump off the deep end and buy a puppy. While he's incredibly challenging and makes me not want to have children of my own for quite a few more years, he is a furry bundle of joy, who we named Finnegan, or Finn for short.

Let me tell you, this aussiedoodle (Australian Shepherd/Poodle) is a handful. He's very attached to me, but also thinks he's the boss, so more often than not, these days you can hear me shouting, "NO!" "Aahhuhh!" "Drop it!" "Sit!" "Stay!" "ahhh kill me!" He's truly putting my dog training skills to the test and I will admit, I am no Dog Whisperer, although if he's ever in the CT area, give him my address!

One thing is for sure, he is a cutie. In fact, it's not me who gets the cat calls these days, it's him! People literally roll down their windows as I take him for walks, shouting he's the cutest dog they've ever seen. Yeah, yeah. Try housebreaking the cutest thing you've ever seen - it's not so cute.

I know once we get past this stage, he's going to be a great dog. And I'm counting down the days until he's six months, so I can start taking him on runs. Although the short practice runs we've done so far, he's tried to bite my legs off. We'll have to work on that. Did I mentioned his teeth are sharp? Because you only need to look at my finger, or my flip flops to tell that they are indeed little weapons of mass destruction.

I'm making him seem worse than he is. When he's fast asleep on my lap at the end of the day, he's the sweetest little thing. I even took him to Tarrywhile Park yesterday and it was such a joy to romp around the park with him for a couple of hours. And it was even better when he was passed out all afternoon.

I see a bright future for this little man and me...

Daddy's Little Girl

I realize I haven't blogged in a few months. And I had every intention of writing about a slew of things, that in hindsight seem rather pointless, especially now that my life has changed forever.

I spent a week and a half in February visiting my parents in Arizona. I knew my Dad hadn't been feeling too well, but I was hoping he'd feel better and come home to Pennsylvania in April on the mend. My entire trip, he was ill. His stomach hurt, he felt nauseous, didn't want to eat. I even went with him to the doctor to see what was wrong and they told him he probably had caught the stomach bug that was going around at the time. Their suggestion was yet more pills, adding to the dozens he was already taking for a slew of other things.

Despite not feeling well, he still tried to make my vacation memorable. He took me horseback riding and brought me to an orange grove I had been wanting to visit. He took me out for dinner and drove me to stores he wanted me to see...even though most of the time he waited for us in the car.

The night before I left, I spent the evening watching television with my Dad. He kept telling me he couldn't believe my trip was over and how fast the time had gone and how he wished I didn't have to leave. Little did I know, I'd be back in just a couple of weeks.

After I flew home, my dad's back began to hurt immensely. He finally gave in and went to the emergency room to find out what was causing all the pain. The doctors discovered a tumor in his spine, which he had had for a number of years had begun to grow and inadvertently cracked his vertebrae in the process. But to determine what caused the sudden growth, the doctors decided to run more tests.

I knew the answer to those tests wouldn't be good...I had had an eerie feeling the past few months that something wasn't right...If only I had been wrong.

My mom called me on a Saturday and told me to cancel my work trip to Europe and fly to Arizona right away - Dad had stage IV small cell carcinoma in his right lung, which had already spread to his liver. On Sunday, I sat in the White Plains airport terminal, as my mom further updated me that my dad only had four to six months to live. I sat there for what seemed forever just crying, tears streaming down my face. Even as I boarded the plane, I couldn't stop the tears, they just kept coming.

That next day, I saw my dad in the hospital. I had to leave the room at first, it was too emotional for me. He was on so much pain medicine, it wasn't him. He knew who I was, but I could see that things were far worse than I had expected. I had come to Arizona with hope...hope he'd get better, hope I'd be able to bring him home, hope I wouldn't lose my dad. But when the doctor came in to speak with me, some of that hope was torn away when he told me that my father was not a candidate for chemotherapy and that in fact, he only had a few weeks left.

A few weeks? A few weeks? I kept asking, how did we go from four to six months to a few weeks? How did my Dad go from being fine over Christmas to now only having a few weeks left on this earth? Despite my puffy eyes and tear stained face, I went into Amanda PR mode and started planning and calling and arranging things. I was determined to get my dad out of the hospital and home to Pennsylvania. I really thought I had a chance.

That day, Dad was released to a rehabilitation facility, which was meant to help him gain strength in his legs, so we could bring him home to Pennsylvania. That night was difficult. Transferring my dad from the hospital to the center took a lot out of him and mom and I cried the entire ride home that night, thinking that was it. To our surprise though, the next morning my Dad looked pretty good. He was even talking a bit, which he wasn't doing the day before. They had him out of bed and in a wheel chair. It was progress. Maybe we could bring him home.

Over the next few days, family and friends flew in to see my Dad and say their final goodbyes. That Wednesday, Dad and I sat together for lunch. He was talking more now and more himself. He asked me what was wrong with him and what kind of timeframe he was looking at. He said, "what's my prognosis?" I had wanted my mother to be there, but he insisted I tell him and he promised, "I won't tell mom you told me." I held his hand and as the tears streamed down my face, I said, "Dad you have Stage IV lung cancer and it has already spread. You're not a candidate for chemo, so the doctors are saying . . .  you only have a few weeks left." I will never forget the look on his face...the shock in his eyes. I quickly said, "But you know how much I love you right?" and my dad replied, with his strong determination, "You know how much I love you?"

The days that followed, my dad did seem to come back to us. We had real conversations and he was lucid. I spent that Friday night watching television with him...Blue Bloods, our favorite show to watch together. He asked me if I thought we were doing the right thing...not pursuing chemo and actually going ahead with direct injection radiation in his spine to help reduce the tumor size and the pain, in order to bring him to PA. I told him I did and he said he thought it was the right thing too. He thanked me for being there with him and I said I love being here with you. He said, I wish you could be here all the time. He even called to check on me and make sure I got back to the house alright that night.

The day before he left the rehab center, my mother and brother and I surrounded my dad as he gave us instructions and told us how much we meant to him. I couldn't help but cry. I asked him if he'd get strong enough to dance with me to what would have been my father-daughter dance song, "Through the Years" by Kenny Rogers. He said, "I'm going to try." I told him how much I loved him, that he was my best friend and that he was supposed to be there for my wedding. He said what he always said, "I'll always be there." I told him I'd probably talk to him every day and he said, "I'll be listening" and he promised he'd ask God to hurry and send me the person I was supposed to be with.

His oncologist had him come home to the house in Arizona that Sunday. At least he could be comfortable there. I took him to the radiation oncologist that Tuesday. It was a tough day. They gave him a very large dose of radiation and he got very sick when we brought him home. He basically slept into the next day. Wednesday he was in and out. He started to say random things and wasn't eating. We moved him to a hospital bed in his room and decided to bring in hospice. I didn't notice it at the time, because my Dad always had breathing problems, but the death rattle started on Wednesday. I did notice how swollen his stomach was and I knew the end was close. I told him that day, that it was ok, he could go. That he didn't have to stay for me, I'd take care of our family and it was time for him to be with my brother Stephen. Funny enough, a couple of hours later (I think he was processing things at different times) he said to me, "I'm in no hurry Amanda."

That night he was delusional, saying things that didn't make sense and it was like he was somewhere else. At one point, I asked him, "Who's your daughter?" And even though he was slipping, he looked at me and firmly pointed to me. So I know he knew who I was and that I was with him.

I slept in his room that night. Every few hours, I'd wake up, hearing him talk. Finally around 5:30 a.m. he started to speak loudly. He said, "I don't know Will." Then he said, "It's so white." I said, "What's so white daddy?" He replied, "It's just so white." I then rubbed his head and said, "shhhh, it's ok daddy. Close your eyes, go to sleep."  Around 6:15 a.m. I left the room to sleep in my own bed for a few hours. I woke up around 7:15 and finally went into his room at 7:30. My mom was sleeping, but the room was eerily quiet...still. I looked at my dad...it was like he was sleeping, but I knew something was wrong. I paused and ached to hear him breath, but I didn't...he chest wasn't rising. I ran to his side and touched his hand, "Daddy?" But as soon as I touched his hand, I knew...he was cold...he was gone.

I woke my mom...I told her I thought Daddy was gone and he was. I watched her try to wake the love of her life, gut wrenching sobs filling the house. I left the room and almost collapsed with grief, crying so hard and so deep, my abdominal muscles actually ached the next day.

On March 14 around 7:15 a.m., my Dad left this earth. I read that people often wait for the person they feel most protective of to leave the room before passing. And although I wish I had been holding my father's hand as he left this world for the next, I'm filled with incredible love knowing I was that person for him.

The next few days were a blur, filled with funeral arrangements and sympathy cards, and phone calls, and flowers, and family. I arranged my father's funeral and gave the final eulogy I can only hope he was proud of how it all turned out.

In September or October of last year, I had watched an Oprah Winfrey interview with Chris Christie of all people. He recounted how he was with his mother a few days before she died. His mother said to him, "Chris, why are you here? Get back to work, there's nothing left unsaid between us." I mentioned that to my dad one day, when we were in the car. I said, I want that to be the case with you and me. My dad didn't miss a beat, he said to me, "It already is. You know how much I love you." So, I find peace and comfort in knowing my Dad and I were so close that there is nothing else I would have or should have said. He knew it all. But it still doesn't ease the immense pain and loss I feel in my heart.

We always knew he wouldn't be here forever...probably me more than anyone else. But I thought he'd have more time. I thought he'd see me fall in love and get married and I prayed he'd meet his grandchildren. But what's to be is to be.  The tears at this point are just too much, so I should probably close my little novel with this...My dad lived a great life despite it all and I can only hope he'll continue to walk with me for the rest of my life...always in my heart.

Craving something sweet

So, this marks my third week on the paleo diet and although I've managed to avoid all those things I thought I'd struggle with giving up, I have started to feel the need for something sweet. I started with freezing banana chunks, which have been great. But I find I tend to eat way too many bananas in a day this way.

I made a quick stop at Trader Joe's yesterday and perused their dried fruit section. Most everything was sweetened or freeze dried, which I don't like because the strawberries are more like flakes than anything I can sink my teeth into.

As I kept looking, I came across "Just Mango Slices," which were unsulfured and unsweetened. I've got to admit, my expectations were pretty low. I was expecting the mango to taste more like cardboard. When I opened the package, the strong smell of mango was divine. This really elevated my expectations, which honestly, were not let down! The mango was so good, chewy and sweet and just so tasty. In fact, I'm almost done with the package and it's been a day!

The package says the serving size is four pieces, which is about 120 calories. No fat of course. I probably eat about six slices in a sitting, although today I've had a few more than that! I'm really surprised at how tasty it is. I'm planning on buying another pack for my trip to Delaware this weekend, although I need to be careful not to overdose on this! Definitely a really tasty snack that satisfies the sweet tooth.

It's the simple things that keep you happy and help you through paleo!

To a new year and new adventures

It's hard to believe 2012 went by so quickly! It was such a big year for me. New job, big move, long runs! Here's hoping 2013 is full of some great opportunities . . . and that appears to be the case so far.

The first half of my year is packed with travel, including Toronto, Phoenix, Paris (and hopefully a few side trips to Amsterdam and Belgium). They are back to back trips, so I'll be a busy woman, packing and unpacking and trying to avoid the dreaded flu.

My goal is to run another two half marathons this year. I'll plan to run the Lynchburg race in August, my third year in a row, but need to find another, flatter race to run. I'd also like to add a couple of 10Ks as well, but I'm not sure I'll run another marathon for at least another year. I'm waiting for the running bug to catch me again...it's been hard to get my head in the game where long distance running is concerned.

Crossfit is still going well - I actually love it, even though I still have to scale some of the exercises. I still can't do a handstand pushup, but it's a goal of mine this year. Everyone is so supportive and I love competing against myself and seeing what I'm really made of. I can now backsquat 95 pounds, which isn't a ton, but a lot for me!

And I've even joined the paleo bandwagon and am doing a 30 day challenge with a colleague of mine. This is week three, and I've lost almost eight pounds so far. I definitely see the benefits in cutting out all the junk of course, and while I've done pretty well cravings wise, occasionally all I can think about are waffles or peanut butter...Once I get through the thirty days, I'm committed to sticking with paleo five days a week and giving myself two days to splurge a little, within reason. I read that it will actually help reset my metabolism that way. We'll see how long I can keep up with it. I lost 40 pounds eating regular foods, but I noticed the past few months, I was binge eating and allowing myself to eat things I had given up for quite some time...too many baked goods, candy, and just junk. My regular meals were pretty healthy, but the in-between was slowing me down.

I will say this though, Paleo has really helped me expand my cooking repertoire. I've made a great vegetable soup base, which I added shrimp to in one batch and clams and sweet potatoes to in another. I'm going to try chicken next. My brother gave me a crock pot for Christmas and that has come in handy with some pretty tasty chicken dishes. I've also been a big proponent of shrimp lately and stumbled across a really tasty paleo coconut shrimp recipe, which I adapted to chicken too. I'll share the recipe the next time I make it and can post photos.

My breakfast has been the same every morning and I definitely struggle with the fact that eventually that's going to get really boring. But it appears that the only type of egg I can eat without ketchup or cheese is basically scrambled eggs...although I did manage to FINALLY make a perfect omelette the other night, so maybe there is hope. I've been really proud of myself for not indulging in ketchup or ranch dressing the past two weeks - those were certainly crutches and staples of mine. Balsamic vinegar has helped in the salad department. But I need to find new ways to eat breakfast. Scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and strawberries is going to get old at some point.

So that's my quick update. As I venture further into crossfit and paleo, I hope to post more often. And of course, I'll share my adventures traveling, which never seem to disappoint.

Til then . . .

Remembering

These past couple of months have flown by. So much has happened, which I plan to update in another post. But I wanted to just take a minute to address the school shooting which took place just a few miles from where I live in Connecticut.

Initially, I didn't realize the extent of what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary, but as the reports began to flow in, so did the tears. To think 26 people were killed, 20 of which were children, just makes no sense. I suppose I'll never know why people make the choices they do, but I still wonder what goes through someone's head to commit such a heinous act of violence.

Those that know me, know I am from Littleton, Colorado. A town synonymous with it's own act of violence.  While I did not attend Columbine High School, I knew many who did and had my own connections to what occurred there so many years ago. And despite thirteen years, that day is etched in my mind with the utmost clarity.

As I watched the news and stories began pouring out of Sandy Hook, flashes of April 20, 1999 came back to me. I remember everything about that day, the tears, the screams, the questions, the fear. Our school was in a lock down and helicopters were soaring overhead. I remember finally being let out of school and my mom not being able to get to me because of roadblocks. I took the bus home and literally ran the entire way to my house, just wanting to hug my parents. In speaking with my mom and dad last Friday, they told me that without a doubt, they knew how some of the Sandy Hook parents felt, wondering where their child was, or if they were ok. My dad still has a difficult time talking about what happened with Columbine. He was on a business trip and knew I was planning on touring Columbine as a possible high school to attend. He wasn't sure where I was and couldn't get in touch with me (I didn't have a cell phone at the time and all the phone lines were tied up). All he could do was pray he said.

Columbine left an indelible mark. I was forever changed by that day and I have carried it with me all these years. Though I don't talk about it much these days, when shootings like the one in Newtown happen, it's hard not to think about Columbine. Sadly, it seems to be the shooting all other shootings are compared to. But now, I fear Sandy Hook has become the new benchmark.

My heart breaks for all those impacted by the shootings in Newtown. Just like Littleton, it was a small town, tight-knit, and I know it will be forever changed by the tremendous loss of life. I pray for the families of those who lost loved ones, especially the children. I don't have children and can never think to know what it might be like to lose a child in such a violent way, but my heart aches for their loss. All I can say is, Heaven has 20 little angels watching over us.

As Christmas quickly approaches, I can't help but think of all those families who will have unwrapped gifts under the tree, an empty seat at the dinner table. I can only pray they find the strength to soldier on in the midst of their grief and that they find comfort in knowing that there are good people in the world, good people who do care and love and hope. I know I plan to try that much harder to spread some joy and good in the lives of those around me in honor of those who were taken all too soon.

The wounds left behind last Friday may never heal, but I hope as a country, we can come together and open our eyes to the violence and tragedy we continue to endure. At some point, we have to say enough is enough. We can't continue to allow this type of hatred to pervade our schools, our malls, our communities. I do believe we are a great country, capable of great things. But we've lost our way. I can only pray we find it soon.

As John Lennon wrote, "Imagine all the people, living life in peace." Wouldn't that be something?

Trouble Walking? Me? No! I'm just...CrossFitting

So tonight is my third CrossFit class this week and fourth total. A few things I've learned this week:

1. Somewhere between fifth grade and today, I forgot how to jump rope. This skill simply evaporated from my repertoire and I look like an absolute fool even attempting it. I trip over the rope, get the rope caught in my pony tail, miss a foot and tangle myself in the rope. It's sad, just sad. My solution is to buy a jump rope this weekend and practice.

2. I never knew what sore meant until now (well really until my marathon). I can remember being sore, or what I thought was sore after training, but this is a new level. My legs are so sore, I can barely sit down and stand back up. The stairs become a tremendous feat, hell even walking is difficult. Every time I roll over in my sleep, I wake up from the severe pain and effort it takes to move even the slightest bit. My body hurts!

3. I used to think squats with dumbbells were a pain...that was until I started doing over head squats and wall balls. Now, I'd give anything to squat with a 12lb dumbbell.

4. Thank God I trained for two years - the skills I learned are certainly coming in handy. While there's no doubt I feel like the new kid on the block at CrossFit, at least  have some sense of what I'm doing...sort of.

Tonight we're doing upside down push ups (yeah right), pull ups (I'll be doing a modified version), box jumps (again, they'll probably have me to a modified version), toe to bars (ha, yeah right) and MORE squats. We'll see how it goes. I'm enjoying the challenge and the discipline and accountability I have by going back to some form of training - it helps to keep me on track. I'm also trying the paleo diet, although very modified  and only every other day. I do miss carbs . . . I'd like a bagel.

What gives me hope, is that if I keep it up, hopefully in six months, on my 27th birthday, I'll feel a sense of real accomplishment seeing all these expected changes in my body. And hopefully I'll be a ripped beast!

Here's hoping I can walk tomorrow!

CrossFitting!

I finally took the leap and attended my first CrossFit class at the CrossFit Danbury box yesterday. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I worked with a personal trainer for about two years and ended up losing close to 40 pounds, which I gained in college (forget the Freshman Fifteen, it's the Freshman Forty!). Working with my trainer Amanda, I substantially increased my strength, endurance, everything. But since I've moved, I've been looking for something to replace that training. Not to mention, for the past four months I've been mainly focusing on my running...and since the marathon, I'm ready for a change of pace.

Thanks to a new colleague who joined my office a few weeks ago and my friend Brian's encouragement, I finally went to my first "beginners" class yesterday. Before diving in, I had all these scary thoughts about what I was getting myself into. All I could think of were all the intense, beast-like photos I had seen of friends lifting insane amounts of weight. I was nervous I'd embarrass myself or not be able to keep up.

Thankfully, all that personal training came in handy. I was able to keep up, despite some of my lingering marathon issues, and felt relatively strong throughout. I think we came on a day with a fairly easy WOD (Workout of the Day), as my friend Brian promises me it's going to be much more intense, but I've decided to commit to going three days a week, starting next week. Brian assures me I'll be a ripped beast in six months, so here's hoping!

Honestly, it was amazing how supportive and encouraging everyone was. These were people I had never met in my life, telling me I was doing a good job and helping me to make sure I was doing the exercises correctly - definitely a change of pace from the typical gym. There is also a level of competitiveness, which for anyone who knows me, knows I love. I think this could end up being really good for me, although I promised Karen (Brian's wife) I won't get too obsessed - we'll see!

I'm looking forward to continuing with it. Not sure if I'll adopt the paleo diet that comes along with CrossFit, but I am pretty confident I'll reach my goal weight through this program, as long as I stick to it. And maybe even make some new friends...which we all know I need to do since I moved.

Here's the WOD I completed yesterday:

1. STRENGTH/ SKILL WORK
5X5
PRESS
REST 60 SECS
5 STRICT C2B PULLUPS
REST 60 SECONDS

2. WOD
4 RFT
400M RUN
12 PP 95/65

So here are my main CrossFit goals:
1. Get to my goal weight
2. Do a pull up
3. Do a full push up (chest to the ground - as of now, I can do a very small one and totally kick butt on the girl version!)

So if all predictions are accurate, by April, I should be a ripped beast. Here goes nothing!