2.) Day 2 Inca Trail

Knowing we were about to climb to the highest peak of our trail, we ate a few extra yummy pancakes and set off. Along the way to Dead Woman´s pass, we saw some llamas grazing in the brilliant green valley before clouds swooped in and it began to rain. At the top, it eased up a bit and it wasn´t too windy. Now at 4215 meters we were ecstatic and took a bunch of photos, videos, and toasted to Pachamama (the Inca´s Mother Earth) with a few shots of rum proved by our guide, Jaime Condor (in quechua, his last name sounds like Koon-tour).

Breakfast pancakes!   Reaching the pass

Then we descended into the mist alongside a few waterfalls into a valley for lunch before climbing up to another pass, visiting the ruins of Runkuraqay along the way. At the top of the next mountain, we placed rocks so that Pachamama take our worries away… and had a bit more rum! Then we started the final descent towards our camp, stopping at the amazing Sayacmarca ruins just before camp. Later that night Jaime told us a true story about the ruins…

Many Incans died when the Spanish came, and much of their history is now lost. Though some is known about a few ruins, many were abandoned so quickly, and no written record remains to tell of what happened at these sites. Our guide´s boss once had to spend the night at Sayacmarca when the campsite below was full, before there was a limit to how many people could enter the trail. In the middle of the night, he felt fingers clawing at his back. He was lying on the ground. Looking under his sleeping bag and sleeping mat, all he saw was the floor of the tent. After falling back to sleep, he again woke to the sensation of fingers clawing at his back up from the ground. Now he had enough, packed up his things, went down the stone steps and spent the night back along the trail instead of in the ruins. In the morning, his clients wondered where he had been and when he described the ghostly sensations that woke him, they all claimed to have had the same experience. Spooky!

But we only toured the ruins, which included a sacrificial altar, we went on to sleep at a larger campsite where we could finally see the night sky and intensely clear Milky Way above. My brother and I went to a Chilean observatory in San Pedro de Atacama a few years ago and were able to point out the Clouds of Magellan to our group, plus a few other constellations that we learned about while at the observatory.

As it had rained both days, and none of our clothes had the chance to dry, my brother´s and my tent were full of hanging wet clothes. Despite our best efforts, nothing became dry once it was wet! It rained every day on the trail and we just had to learn to live with it. My base layer became more of a wet suit, where I´d put it on cold but my body heat would warm up the water and then it´d be okay. As a result, I was always ready to get started on the day, just so I´d warm up a bit! By the time we sighted Machu Picchu, we didn´t really mind that it was raining and mostly clouded, we had already accepted that this is how the climate is, and if it wasn´t it wouldn´t be as green and beautiful.

Cat, one of the Irish girls, made a really astute observation… You have to live for every moment. Though you can be enjoying a gorgeous view that moves you to your core, in the space of a minute it can become obscured by clouds. When you see something beautiful, you learn to appreciate that you are seeing it at this moment, that at this second in your life you are here, soaking it all in. The rain will come and the rain will go, but you saw beauty and you stopped to see it and you can remember it when the clouds come.

1.) Chile to Peru and Yay Inca Trail!!

These blogs are being posted all in succession, now that I have time being back from all my travelling! Telling you about my Inca Trek could take hours, but instead I´ll break it down into 4 parts, one for each day. After that I´ll write about the rest of my time in Cuzco after we got back, plus Arequipa, Peru and Arica, Chile. If you are planning a trip to this part of the world, feel free to ask me any questions, I´d love to share any info!! Hopefully I can convey some of the awe and amazement I experienced while on the trek, and I hope you enjoy reading 🙂

Santiago, Chile -> Cuzco, Peru: Riding the bus for three days straight was an…interesting experience. We stopped in Arica, Chile and took a taxi over the border to Tacna, Peru and bought more bus tickets there. From Tacna it was another overnight bus to Puno, on Lake Titicaca. My Chilean cousins are on a super tight budget, which resulted in us having to find cheap deals and lower our comfort level quite a bit. At times, this led to saving a ton of money while enjoying the same quality, and other times led to a lot of frustration on my brother`s and my part… and staying/eating in some really shitty places.

Cuzco, Peru- Day 1 Camino del Inka: Arriving in Cuzco, we found that Loki (recommended by multiple sources) was mostly full and what was available was too expensive for my cousins. Instead we wandered around a bit but ended up at The Point Hostel, which was pretty good. We ate dinner at a place I Highly recommend, Sabor de Casa, which has fantastic alpaca steak!! Plus free pisco sour 🙂 My brother and I had to get up at 3:30 AM for the United Mice pick up van, so we packed our backpacks and went to sleep in our bunkbeds early.
In the morning I got a chance to weigh my backpack with my 2 liter platypus full and altogether weighed 12 kilos (26.4 lbs). We were picked up and driven to Ollantaytambo for breakfast where we got a chance to meet the other 3 members of our group, 2 Irish girls named Eleanor and Cat, plus another American named Suzanne, so that made us a group of 5. Our group ended up becoming really close in the ensuing 4 days, laughing constantly while supporting each other through tough climbs, wet and windy conditions, soroche (altitude sickness…there may be something to chewing coca leaves…), and climbing rocky stairs up and down mountain sides.

Day 1 of El Camino del Inka started off well, all was bright and sunny so we were able to appreciate the spectacular views until we overlooked the ruins of Llactapata. Just before lunch it began to rain and didn´t stop for a few hours. The chef and porters of United Mice did an amazing job of cooking fantastic meals and setting up tents, always having everything prepared by the time we reached camp and making it look effortless. Once we learned the quechua work for thanks- Solpikey- we said it to them all the time! As a result, they called us the Solpikeys 🙂

After lunch was 100% climbing stairs for hours. Near the end, the pain in my IT band blended in with the ache of my thighs, which actually helped me to not focus on the pain! The plan for the day was to hike 16 kilometers (10 miles) in distance, plus 1 kilometer in altitude. Before lunch was only a 200 meter climb and after lunch it was 800 meters straight up! But it was through some of the most magnificent forest I have ever seen. Bromeliads bloomed everywhere you looked, hummingbirds fluttered around for minutes on end, and at the hardest part of the trail a clear mountain stream rushed alongside the trail underneath a beautiful hanging green forest canopy.
Finally reaching camp, we were able to turn around and look at what we had climbed. From this altitude, you could see clouds below flowing with the winds through the valley, or sweeping up mountain sides leaving mists in their wake. It was truly beautiful experience as much as it was a beautiful sight. Photographs can never do justice to what I saw or experienced.

Chilean Dictionary and Social guide

Though I thought ¨Pascua¨meant easter, apparently the translation is closer to ¡Fiesta! – which is pretty much how Santiago, Chile has been thus far. I´ve been hanging out with family and having a great time 🙂 We´re still planning our trip up to Machu Picchu next week, getting together with friends of my cousins, and speaking a lot of spanish.

The first day I got here, I wondered if I even knew spanish at all!! Chileans speak super fast, butcher their words, and invent new words all the time. It´s gotten easier for me to understand them every day and I´d say that now I catch about 91% of what they say 🙂

Here are a few differences between Bolivia and Chile, or just how Chileans are totally on their own planet…and this I mean with all the love in my heart!! :

– Weon (previously known as ¨Huevon¨). Alternatively, ¨hue-on¨, or some pared-down-to-vowels version of the term meaning ¨egg¨ as a derivation of the masculine ¨balls.¨ This word, huevon, means absolutely anything you want it to mean. Listen for it in just about any sentance uttered by a Chilean… as in ¨what a cute little huevon you have!¨ or ¨you dumb huevon!¨ or ¨hand me that huevá¨

– Cola de mono. The Chilean version of eggnog, only much tastier. Made with aguardiente, an alcoholic drink made from grapes, a sort of precursor of…

–Pisco. My family typically drinks it as Pisco Sour (add sugar and lemon juice). Pisco is basically the national drink of Chile and is a clear, strong alcoholic drink that is drunk for weekend appetizers, get togethers, or with dinner

– Onces. (Oh-n-sez) Originating from when mine workers would say in code ¨let´s go get some elevens¨ as aguardiente has eleven letters so they´d go off and drink on the job. So I´m told. Now it´s their version of either tea time or a light dinner (which is served around 10 PM) where bread, tea, and Nescafé are served… their coffee is just a powdered stuff you mix in with hot water.

-Apertivos. Basically, appetizers. The difference is that they have a formal sit-down on weekends prior to having lunch. This typically includes kalamata olives, a basket of potato chips, cheese and crackers, peanuts, and cream cheese smothered with soy sauce topped with poppy seeds. Which is quite tasty, actually. And of course, Pisco sour. I wonder if this tradition was actually formed to be a socially acceptable Eye opener after a Friday or Saturday night´s events.

– Farmacia. To get an aspirin, you need to take a number and ask a lady behind the counter to hand you the medicine. Also behind the counter are vitamins, facial creams, condoms, pregnancy tests, prescription meds, perfume, and band aids.

– Panaderia. Never have I had tastier, fresher, still-warm-by-the-time-you-take-it-home bread.

– Manjar. Also known as dulce de leche, it is caramelized condensed milk. It goes on bread, cakes, etc. Plain condensed milk is also a syrup for ice cream

– Lack of peanut butter. My family thinks that a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich is crazy. Also, I got the most bewildering stares when describing Ants on a Log… ¿QUE?!!

– Vino. Chileans drink tons of wine, almost all of it made in this country. It is rare to drink something imported. In fact, I had two glasses this morning for lunch

– But you still live with your parents! People typically live at home until they´re married. If you move out sooner, people think you´re a bad child for not helping them out at home (but they do recognize that the U.S. way is different)

– Night life. Chileans are much more of a nocturnal culture. Normal adults typically don´t go to bed until after midnight, while college age people are up until 2 or 3 AM. This means lunch is around 2 PM.

-Chilean Time means arrive at least 30 min-2 hours after the specified time of arrival. Never show up to a party at the agreed upon hour… the host may still be cooking, taking a shower, etc.

– Smoking! Everybody smokes, and this is what is on every cigarette pack… the law requires that it fill 50% of any cigarette pack or any cigarette ad. They started with this ¨Don Miguel¨guy who has a tracheostomy but that campaign failed when people just laughed it off and drew more cigarettes on the poor guy:

p.s This blog is Martin Silva-Hott approved.

It can’t be Christmas, it’s 79 degrees!

Here on the other side of the world, I realize how much I gauge time passing by the changing of seasons. Hot summer days and fireworks mark the end of another school year. When the leaves start to change, I look around and think “huh, I’m a year older!” And not a year has passed that I don’t look outside the window to appreciate winter’s first snowfall.

But in Bolivia, it’s all kinds of crazy! I’m standing in my flipflops at the supermercado shopping for some Coke and see Santa on the label. “Gosh, that Coke must be about 6 months old!” I think to myself… before realizing that Oh yeah, Christmas is days not months away!

Celebrating the holidays is different when you’re outside the U.S.A. As there’s really no giant shopping malls, there have been no repetitive Christmas songs to torment me, no joyful elevator music greeting me as I enter stores, and the radio is full of thug-type reggaeton music. While in a taxi, we passed a small town square with a gigantic line weaving around the park benches. I asked the driver what was going on, and he said “To see Papa Noel.” Of course! No mega malls, so sitting on Santa’s lap happens in the park! Genius!

Being in South America, Channukah doesn’t make much of an appearance, but we celebrated it at our house with some latkas and gugel (hope I spelled that right Yuna!) Someone brought out a guitar and sang some songs, but I think most of us forgot about Christmas… no carols even in our own house.

To be honest though, I really don’t miss the hype. Christmas is my favorite holiday because I enjoy spending time with my family and sharing going to midnight mass, a big holiday feast, popcorn and movies by the fireplace. The American culture of shopping and materialism haven’t invaded my Christmas season this year, and I’m liking it!

I will, however, admit to missing one thing: 24 hours of “A Christmas Carol” on TNT. There’s just nothing like watching Ralphie get his official Red Ryder BB gun over and over and over again 🙂

iBuenas Noticias!

The only times I ever wake up before my alarm clock goes off are the nights I am super stressed out. So when I woke up a full half hour early this Wednesday, I wasn’t surprised… it was possible I might find out where I would match!!

There are 2 air force med students here in Bolivia staying at the house who got an email Tuesday night announcing the list would be out at 5:30 AM CST. I didn’t get an email like this from the Navy, but had heard a rumor (through Facebook, no less) that we might find out at 9 or 10 AM. That morning, I sat at the kitchen table watching the other students nervously fidgeting and clicking “update” on their email every 4 seconds. Finally the list was up, they were on their feet scanning the pages, and “YESSSS!” they screamed in unison. But I had to wait until later…

As we had to work in a rural clinic that day, we drove out 2-3 hours into the Bolivian rainforest and saw patients who came in from the nearby pueblos. When clinic was over, a few of us drove an hour to the nearest internet cafe in Buena Vista, Bolivia. Just off the town square is this tiny, hot, steamy room filled with local boys playing video games. After getting a computer, opening my email, and initially missing the GME-1 email amidst the junk I received, the match list was slowly…slowly..slowly downloading. Then it aborted and an error message popped up in spanish.

With my heart pounding and hands shaking, I actually consider opening up Facebook to read the messages on my wall which may actually tell me where I’ll be next year. A little girl in the cafe tries to peer around at the screen as I’m unconsiously saying “Oh my gosh… oh my gosh…” as I’m wringing my hands with nervousness and sweat is dripping down my neck.

Deferring to Plan B, I log onto the Navy GME-1 site and enter the password. The page slowly begins to load…the circle at the right top hand of the screen swirling away… and just as someone behind me offers a suggestion, a list of names with locations pop up. I gasp and hear nothing else as I punch the down arrow quickly but scanning carefully so not to misread the “Crawford, Leslie….” that should scroll up any second. Before I have time to register that next to my name reads “… Transitional Year, San Diego” I am already out of my dirty red plastic chair, screaming and literally jumping up and down.

The other med students and doctors from the clinic high-five me, give me hugs, as I see the street vendors gaping at me through the open garage-type door. Later I was told that one of them asked our clinic coordinator

“What’s going on? I just about had a heart attack!”

“Good news from home.” she responded.

“Oh! Is she having a baby?”

I am totally oblivious to this as I’m grinning and still jumping up and down and realize that I’m so happy I can cry… and I did tear up a bit! I am soooooo sooooo lucky!!! Barely catching my breath, I compose myself enough to sit down and see where my friends matched, write off a few quick emails before my computer time runs out, and then call my parents with my phone card.

The rest of the day I spent glowing and squealing with disbelief about how awesome this is and how lucky I am that I actually matched in my first choice!!! Then the other med students and I toasted with some Cuban rum and coke (a.k.a. Cuba Libre) and watched telenovelas. Though I wish I could have spent it in the USA so as to be able to call friends and family and celebrate properly, the knowledge alone that I will be moving to San Diego next year made it one of the happiest days I have ever had in med school.

Getting a tan in December

It s easy to forget that Christmas is approaching when I m walking down the sidewalk enjoying an ice cream cone and feeling a light sunburn on my shoulders. This weekend a few of us rented out a villa in Samaipata, Bolivia and toured the local waterfalls and Incan ruins. It was a fantastic weekend, as we stayed in this place called La Vispera which is an organic farm where your food is picked off of the plants on the gardens after you place your order.

We re getting some really great exposure to tropical medicine both in the Santa Cruz hospital of Japones (yes, as in Japanese) and also out in the countryside at the Centro Medico Humberto Parra in Palacios. Though most of it is vichos, or parasites, some of the things we see in the city hospital have been really cool rare stuff we ve only seen on House.

The countryside clinic is great, except the first night I opened the porch door to step outside I just about had a heart attack when I saw how many bugs there are! Giant frogs come up to our door every night and one night we saw a cockroach measured out to be about 5 inches long. One of the other doctors saw some monkeys behind the clinic up in the forest which is classified as a lowland Southwest Pre-Andean Amazon rainforest. It s pretty cool 🙂

(finally think i identified this bug- it’s not a cockroach, it’s a water bug known as Lethocerus maximus. still SCARY and TOTALLY GROSS!!!)

Other than that, we ve been to the largest butterfly dome in the world, looked out at night to the southern hemisphere constellations, danced all night at a Daddy Yankee concert, went to the local circus (that experience deserves its own blog!) and enjoyed the local food.

My match is either tomorrow or Friday and I may not be around the internet to find out where I ll be next year, but as soon as I know I ll spread the word! Also, my IT band has calmed down a bit but I m really trying not to push it. It s hard not to run when you re surrounded by active athletic people but I m trying to keep up some fitness for my Inca Trek to Machu Picchu next month. Hope it all works out 🙂

Here is the entrance to the circus where we saw hula hoop people, clowns telling jokes in spanish, a Star Wars duel, and trapeeze artists

This cockroach was GIGANTIC. I have a video too where I scream like a little girl when it starts to fly!

These horses graze outside of our house next to the clinic. Behind them is the bumpy dirt road that gets rained out on occasion…and is why 4 wheel drive is essential!

Katie, a Northwestern resident standing at our front desk. This is usually covered in patient charts and surrounded by patients waiting in line. To her left is our pharmacy, a closet stocked with anti-parasitic meds, anti-inflammatory meds, and the occasional Lipitor if we’re lucky!

Hola Santa Cruz de la Sierra

After flying 4 connecting flights I landed in Santa Cruz, Bolivia a little tired and ready to take a shower. The flight down to South America wasn’t too bad actually, we flew over some gigantic river that was probably the Amazon plus got to see Lake Titicaca with nearby La Paz and surrounding mountains all in the morning sunlight. From the perspective of a plane, La Paz can be described as “brown.” while Santa Cruz is “green!”

So here I am in Santa Cruz in a house full of medical people.. residents, med students, a nurse, people working on research projects, etc. Everyone here seems to be extensively traveled so it’s been fun talking and getting to know them. Yesterday we all took a trip out to the grocery store to shop for a Thanksgiving dinner today and then went to an open air market (“feria”) which sold knock-off clothes and mystery meat cooking in large vats of oil. Then we went to dinner at Casa de Camba, which I Highly recommend! We orderd a bunch of Chilean and Argentinian wines (Bolivian wine.. I’ve had better but I’ve also had worse) and they served us yucca with spicy sauce. The meat only dishes come over hot coals and pretty much all the food is great. There’s no walls to the restaurant and they had this awesome open courtyard with live music. So even though I was exhausted from no sleep on the plane, it was a fun night.

Today a few of us ran 2 miles to the Plaza 24 de Septiembre. Although my marathon was just one week ago and I really shouldn’t run with my IT band needing to heal…. I couldn’t resist!! The girls I ran with had a bit slower pace and I was a little winded from the higher altitude, so it wasn’t too bad. The weather was also perfect, about mid-70’s (cool for this time of year) overcast and a little rainy. My knee didn’t bother me until maybe mile 1.5 and hasn’t hurt much for the rest of the day- although I did pre-medicate with some ibuprofen.

The plaza is gorgeous and full of spanish tourists. A political rally of about 50 people stood on the cathedral steps chanting for autonomy. The tensions are getting a bit high just recently here in Bolivia as the northern group wishes to set up their own nation. Although I’m still unclear about the details, apparently a new constitution was approved under some shady circumstances and OK’s the current president to be re-elected repeatedly.

The people back at the house were cooking all day for this Thanksgiving lunch which was absolutely delicious, complete with stuffing and cranberries and apple cobbler. Afterwards we went to a futbol match and cheered on the local Santa Cruz team of Blooming… though they lost. Fireworks went off- IN the stands and onto the field- whenever a goal went in.

But that was nothing compared to the crowd after they realized they lost when they began throwing things and rattling the barbed wire fence behind the opposing team. On the stadium itself “Autonimia Si…” is posted, in reference to the brewing-maybe-starting-civil war. As we exited, police in full riot gear were outside and fights were breaking out so we got away fast. People randomly raced past when some loud banging was heard, but it was probably just a scare tactic to keep a mob from forming. So far, we’re not concerned the political situation is serious enough to be dangerous- there’s no talk of blockades or closing down the airport. Basically we’re keeping an open eye and ear to what’s going on.

I’ll have photos posted as soon as I can dig my camera cord out of my luggage and load them up. I’m soo excited to be here in Bolivia and start this rotation! Yay Santa Cruz!

26.2 miles, One Step at a Time

When I finally, finally crossed the finish line of the Tulsa Route 66 marathon, the volunteer who gave me a reflective blanket asked me:
“So how do you feel?”

I thought for a moment, and all I came up with was: “Hurt.” But I smiled as I said it.

Overall I’m tremendously happy about finishing my first marathon- but it didn’t come easy! Many times I have talked to marathoners about their first experience and have been told multiple times about how grueling it is, how you wonder why you ever put yourself through this. Now that I know firsthand what a marathon feels like, I have to say I have a different perspective.

It was grueling. No doubt. My calf, strained for the 4th (or more) time gave me problems for the first half. But it was pretty easygoing up until mile 8. Then my IT band started flaring up…and flaring…and flaring… although I adjusted my stride to avoid straining my calf, the compensation is what seems to have triggered the IT irritation to begin with. And now, after surviving a cortisone shot and 11 miles of running, the outer aspect of my left knee was searing in pain on every step.

Albert, who I have no words to thank, was there every step of the way. He made me stretch out my calf more than I would have on my own (almost as many times as he took pee breaks 🙂 which I think is what eventually made my calf settle down after mile 12. But one of the most painful miles of the marathon was between 11.5 to 12.5. It felt like I had been hit by a metal baseball bat and the pain was searing deeper and deeper into my knee. So after mile 13 we switched to a run-walk strategy that eventually got me to the finish line.

Many times I had to concentrate on the perfect balance between placing pressure on my IT band/muscle strain. For a while, each fought for my attention with IT band winning the battle where I limped along duck footed (easing pressure on IT) versus pigeon toed (sparing the cramped muscle) At first, we stopped at some medical tents and asked for Ibuprofen. They didn’t have any, and just said “listen to your body, don’t overextend youself.” Gee, thanks. Eventually we got some Bio-Freeze but by then it wasn’t able to touch the pain.

On the upside, I sang a lot on the run! Albert may not think it was an upside, but it helped put a smile on my face and kept me going 🙂 My “RUN!-Hypd Up” list definitely helped up to mile 25. The spectators and the volunteers were also amazingly wonderful, each of them smiling and waving and being as helpful as they could. I couldn’t help but muster a smile and laugh along with other runners or to cheer along those ahead of me doubled back along the same route. At mile 13.1, I finally caved in and realized I wasn’t able to run the whole thing, but I distinctly remember turning to Albert and saying “I’m finishing this thing. I don’t care. I’ll go until my knee tears off.”

The last mile is one I will never forget. Pain. Up until mile 25 we tried to keep up a fast walk (I limped) but I told Albert that we were going to run it in, and I was determined to finish strong. Cherry Street in downtown Tulsa is burned into my brain as an area where I hurt. A lot. But I kept up a jog, both up and down some inclines. I could say excruciating, but I wasn’t exactly rolling around the floor screaming in agony…ut if I have to rate my pain I’d say it was 9/10. Albert’s words along the way, saying “The pain is only temporary” definitely helped when it felt as if my knee could explode apart. Just as we were coming up on the mile 26 sign I felt like my knee was about to lock up. Although I didn’t want to walk at all, I realized I had to. For only a few yards, I walked and checked that this fucking knee would carry me to the finish. It would. I began to run again.

Around the corner and now I can see the fencing by the finish line. Miraculously my knee pain abates, and I feel just a little bit stronger. Now I see Katie smiling and waving at us and I know we’re almost there. The finish line photographer is there and I’m hoping the champion chip timer mats would come just a bit closer to me with each step. Somehow I made it across and… wait, I can stop now? I’m done?

Even as I type this, it’s surreal. I finished a marathon? Was that me, or was it someone else? I did that?

I have a cool medal to tell me I finished, plus a huge finisher’s shirt that says “I Kicked it on Route 66.” After the race, we went back to the hotel and showered up. Driving around to find a good place to eat, Albert and I recalled a few places we’d seen on Cherry Street. Revisiting that street only 2 hours later, a visceral wave of remembrance, of how I felt as I last saw these storefronts, came back… but I just have to laugh at that now! Yes, it hurt. But I did it!! And then I had a yellowjacket beer of Guinness plus Boulevard Wheat and it was delicious. And so was dessert.

Albert had some nice things to say about how I did, how I never gave up, how I kept up a positive attitude. Which is exactly how I wanted my run to be. Now that it’s done, I can say that I had fun. It was not hell. I never questioned “Why am I doing this?” I knew why I was doing this. I love to run, and I stick to my goals. I wanted to see if I could do it. Another more complicated reason is the excerpt posted just before this… I realize now that this is most likely the foundation of why I wanted to finish, to pay respect in a way. To explain why is a lengthy one so I’ll just leave you to read it… and then hopefully the book ( an extremely powerful 109 pages.)

Now one day after the race, I feel okay. Still having problems going down stairs, but unlike just after the run yesterday I can now climb up stairs! Only my quads are pretty tight and I’m taking Ibuprofen to help both the inflammation and soreness. My time was 5:34:28, overall about a 12:45 minute mile. My goal was to finish and I did, no matter what time. So although it is wayyy slower than I could have gotten if uninjured, I’m just glad I did it and it’s over. Yay!!! I ran a marathon yesterday! Thanks Albert and Katie!

p.s. I match in 35 days… or so! I’ll find out online where I’m going to be next year for my internship. There’s only 3 Navy hospital choices (San Diego, Bethesda, or Portsmouth) and I hope to get a transitional year spot at one of them. Or internal medicine, that’d be ok too. And I’m thinking of flight surgery or a General Medical Officer tour before I apply for an emergency residency. So now it’s just sit and wait and check email!

running towards the finish

crossing 26.2 miles

cooling down

we kicked it on route 66!

limping along the next day 🙂

Excerpt from “Night”

In my copy of “Night” I have kept a photo taken April 17, 1996.  On the left side of the frame, I am a 15 year old girl wearing short hair and glasses, the black straps of my backpack are seen over a white shirt.  A girl to my left is holding out a pamphlet.  On the right side of the photo is the author of “Night,” Eliezer Wiesel signing my book in blue pen.

In the years since this photo was taken, the impact of this book and his memoir of the Holocaust have never left me.  This excerpt in particular has always haunted me and now, reflecting on my own marathon and will to push on, I am including it here to share some back story on what it really means to persevere and the courage that it took.

An icy wind blew in violent gusts. But we marched without faltering.

The SS made us increase our pace. “Faster you swine, you filthy sons of bitches!” Why not? The movement warmed us up a little. The blood flowed more easily in our veins. One felt oneself reviving…

“Faster, you filthy sons of bitches!” We were no longer marching; we were running. Like automatons. The SS were running too, their weapons in their hands. We looked as though we were fleeing before them.

Pitch darkness. Every now and then, an explosion in the night. They had orders to fire on any who could not keep up. Their fingers on the triggers, they did not deprive themselves of this pleasure. If one of us stopped for a second, a sharp shot finished off another filthy son of a bitch.

I was putting one foot in front of the other mechanically. I was dragging with me this skeletal body which weighed so much. If only I could have got rid of it! In spite of my efforts not to think about it, I could feel myself as two entities- my body and me. I hated it.

I repeated to myslef: “Don’t think. Don’t stop. Run.”

Near me, men were collapsing in the dirty snow. Shots.

…

The commandant announced that we had already covered forty-two miles since we left.  It was a long time since we had passed beyond the limits of fatigue.  Our legs were moving mechanically, in spite of us, without us.

…

I was thinking of this when I heard the sound of a violin.  The sound of a violin in this dark shed, where the dead were heaped on the living.  What madman could be playing the violin here, at the brink of his own grave?  Or was it really a hallucination?

It must have been Juliek.

He played a fragment from Beethoven’s concerto.  I had never heard sounds so pure.  In such a silence.

It was pitch dark.  I could hear only the violin, and it was as though Juliek’s soul were the bow.  He was playing his life.  The whole of his life was gliding on the strings-his lost hopes, his charred past, his extinguished future.  He played as he would never play again.

I shall never forget Juliek.  How could I forget that concert, given to an audience of dying and dead men!  To this day, whenever I hear Beethoven played my eyes close and out of the dark rises the sad, pale face of my Polish friend, as he said farewell on his violin to an audience of dying men.

I do not know how long he played.  I was overcome by sleep.  When I awoke, in the daylight, I could see Juliek, opposite me, slumped over, dead.  Near him lay his violin, smashed, trampled, a strange overwhelming little corpse.

– Elie Wiesel, Night

E*pli#itive!

I went for a really, really nice hike yesterday.  It was beautiful.  Fall leaves turning red and orange, bright sunny day, crisp air with a blue sky…chatting with some friends and standing aside for mountain bikers as they zipped by…

I was breaking in my boots and new backpack for my January trip down to Peru to hike the Inca Trail and so I stuffed it full of clothes, my therma rest with sleeping bag, travel books, etc.  I added a few more hardcovers to try and up the weight to the limit of 40 lb (probably only got to 25-30, but anyway…)

Near the end of the hike I was walking up a slight incline and felt a small extra stretch in my left calf.  My left calf that 17 weeks ago became strained and made me fear of a worse tear.  Nine years have passed since the initial insult and here it returns.  Today I can’t walk normally.  My calf is so tight today that if I even straighten it quickly, I feel a sharp pain just below the back of my knee.

(Insert another explicitive.)  I’m scheduled to run the marathon ONE WEEK from today.  My IT band is still nagging, but that can be cured with a shot of cortisone.  What now, what about this (explicitive) muscle!!!!!

Will I make it to the 26.2 mile finish line… I don’t know if I can even walk a mile at this point.   Am I optimistic? No.

Will I try anyway? Yes.  With every broken muscle fiber in my body.