VANDERKITTEN BABY!!

The Vanderkitten Racing Cycling Club is now up and running!

We have received an overwhelming response on both a national and international level.  It is absolutely awesome!

I cannot describe what it feels like to see your dream take off.  Much thanks and love to Dave, who has made this possible!  

Cycling has been extremely therapeutic for me, and has helped me through the darkest times of my life.  Literally.  Vanderkitten has given me my cycling soul back.  It has resurrected my feisty, "I'm gunna kick your ass in this bike race" attitude.  J-dub showed me the Vanderkitten website well over a year ago, and the rest has been history.  Thanx J-dub!  

Merry Christmas!!!

Matt, Caesar, and I wish family, friends, and anybody reading this blog a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!  Please forgive us for not getting Christmas cards out; we just moved to WA State from VA and have been in a constant state of disarray (what else is new)!!

Let It Snow...

SO, my hubby and I are supposed to be in Arizona right now.  But mother nature, well, she had another plan.  

We spent the night at the Marriott adjacent to the airport last night for the sole purpose of NOT getting snowed in at home as they were expecting a foot of snow throughout the night where we live in WA.  

And our clever lil planned worked, until we got to the airline gate...

We checked our luggage in, checked out the airport mall, and then got to our gate.  It was then that we learned our flight was cancelled.  It went a little something like this:

Airline Worker:  "Flight XXX has been cancelled."

My thoughts: No way, NOT the flight to Phoenix.  It's sunny there.

Airline Worker: "It can be several days until you get rescheduled."

My thoughts: We're going to Phoenix, not our flight.  There are sahuaro's, dirt, and sun there.  Old people from cold climates go there for the winter.  CAN'T BE MY FLIGHT!

And then I looked up.

And saw that the Phoenix flight that was supposed to take off at 0815 was still sitting at the gate.  With passengers on it.  Getting de-iced.  With the frustrated pilot slumped over the controls (and YES, you could see him slumped over the controls).  Well, that's holiday travel for ya!

So yes, it was our flight.  Cancelled.  BUT we were able to reschedule for Christmas Eve, so I won't complain too much.  We had to take a little airport shuttle bus back home.  What was supposed to take an hour and fifteen minutes to get home from the airport ended up taking over four hours.  But we're home safely.  And I got to come home to this:

 So my friends, I leave you with this.  We just have to accept that there are things in this world that we have absolutely NO control over (like cancelled holiday flights!).  And it sucks.  Trust me, I was hella pissed this afternoon.  Today, I had serious issues accepting that there was absolutely nothing I could do to fly out to Arizona.  But then my dad reminded me to just brush it off and keep going.  Kinda like how a duck's feathers repel rain.  It's hard to accept the uncontrollable.  Arg.  But, like Dory in the movie "Finding Nemo," Just Keep Swimming...

And Here's To You, Mr. Akre

Mr. Akre, this post is for you...

A week ago I met an individual that I will never, ever forget.  He is a man of great courage, commitment, selflessness, faith, and hope.  And he is, my friends, going to be an anomaly...

As I walked into the Ambulatory Infusion Center my brain was spinning.  I knew I was going to get my Remicade Infusion regardless, but wasn't looking forward to getting poked by a needle, wasn't sure if they were going to find a vein, didn't want to sit there for 3+ hours, etc etc.  As I was waiting to get taken back to my room I looked down at my arms and saw a few healthy veins.  I slyly smiled because I knew that the lil bastards were going to disappear as soon as a needle pierced my skin, or rather, came into the nurses line of sight.  They roll, harden, and hide when it comes to getting pricked.  I firmly believe in the subconscious self.  People, I'm not crazy, it's real.  I don't freak out when I get stuck with a needle.  I can be as calm, cool, and collected as I want to be.  But my veins, well, they have a mind of their own.

I was led back to the four chaired room and sat in between two Chemo patients.  This is when I met the man who made my heart bleed.  

Mr. Akre is a  young man of 59 years old.  As we started chatting I learned that he graduated from The Boat School in 1972, retired as a senior officer from the SWO community, and had a loving wife and a 31 year old daughter with a successful business of her own.  I also learned that he had lung cancer.  And that the docs gave him 7-12 months to live.

We were talking about his cancer when he told me they gave him 7-12.  I stopped for a minute, not sure what I had heard.  I carefully asked, "Wait, you've got 7-12 months left on Chemo?"  Mr. Akre looked at me and said, "No, they say that is my life expectancy."  

I cannot describe the emotions I felt at that moment.  It's like getting hit by an overwhelming emotional mack truck.  Your heart melts, cries, bleeds, wants to reach out and hug this man and tell him everything will be alright and that he will grow old with his wife and see his grandchildren be born and grow...

After I got over my initial shock I looked at him and said, "Don't listen to them, they don't know.  YOU will be the anomaly."  And he smiled.  He's a double major from Boat U in math and engineering.  He knows what being an anomaly means.  And he will be.  Mr. Akre has guts and the drive to survive and beat this thing.  And I'm confident that he will.  When discussing the side effects of Chemo he said, "Even if the chemo makes me really ill I'll do it, because if it gives me one more month, it's worth it."  

And then a man who was supposed to be dead 10 years ago piped in (Mr. Akre was to my right and this man, whose name I don't recall, was to my left).  He said, "Ten years ago they gave me 6 months to live.  I'm still alive today.  It's all about having a positive attitude."  This man had a very rare cancer called liposarcoma, which is cancer of the fat cells.  At the time he was diagnosed there were only 74 documented cases of liposarcoma in the world.  His docs gave him an expiration date, and he kicked them in face by being alive today.  

His comment led to a room wide discussion (three chemo patients, two men and one woman, and our nurse were in the room with me).  Our nurse said that some people get tired of the fight and are just ready to go home.  They are tired from the overwhelming pain and suffering that is not only caused to themselves, but their loved ones as well.  We all agreed that life changing day that we were all fighters and would not be beaten by our illnesses.  We then laughed and joked.  Mr Akre joked that he has paid into social security his entire adult life and will be damned if he doesn't see any of that money!  The man whose name I can't recall joked that when he first married his wife (after he was diagnosed with cancer) he told her that she didn't have to worry about him dying because he didn't want her to be happy a day of her life, and by him dying, she would be happy.  Our room laughed.  Through all of the pain, suffering, and cheating death, we laughed.  Our room was so loud that we could be heard down the hallway.  There was faith and hope in our infusion room that day.  The man who was supposed to be dead 10 years ago was an anomaly.  Mr. Akre is well on his way to becoming an anomaly.  And the woman, well, we never did get to talk to her much, but she laughed and felt the positive spirit that arose in our room that day.  She too, whatever her internal battle is, will be an anomaly.  As for me, though I feel my struggles do not nearly compare to these three individuals, will just keep thanking God for my blessings, health, and wonderful family.   

This was an afternoon that changed my life.  Emotions arose that I never knew existed.  I saw the important part of life that day.  We wake up, complain, go about our normal day to day lives expecting that we will have another day.  We don't worry about possibly only having months to live.  When you look at the world from the eyes of a cancer patient, terminally ill patient, or one who suffers from chronic illness, you will see that things you thought were important were never important at all.  You will then cherish every moment of every day and be thankful for what bit of health yo do have.  And, most importantly, you will be thankful to be alive.

Keep fighting Mr. Akre.  You are, after all, the anomaly.

The below pic was taken on my last infusion day at Portsmouth.

Just to give you an update on myself, I have officially been in remission for 2.75 months WITHOUT the use of prednisone.  This is the first time, in almost three years, the entire time I've had Crohn's, that this has happened.  My Gastro doc more than doubled my original remicade dosage and that seemed to do the trick (GREAT SUCCESS).  

Sadly I have left my Gastro family in VA for a new Gastro fam in WA.  I have my first appointment this Tuesday with my new Gastro doc.  Doc Smith, you will be missed!  For the nurses that took care of me during my infusions, thank you.  For the entire Gastroenterology Department that helped me through relapse after painful relapse, thank you.  You all are awesome and definitely set the bar astoundingly high.  Thank you for taking care of me.  I will miss you all.  =(

And to all of you who have taken the time to read this post and others...I will never go over two months again without an entry!  No excuse for that!  Writing is my therapy, and I hope it helps you in your daily life journeys.  Until next time...

All Bruised Up

I wrote this post this afternoon while I was getting my infusion at the hospital...

At the moment I’m in the hospital, at the ambulatory infusion center, sitting sandwiched between two women who have Crohn’s.  The girl to my right was, like me, medically retired from the Navy due to the severity of her illness.  The girl to my left has a port, is skinny as hell, and won’t eat much because as soon as she puts anything in her mouth she has to go to the bathroom.  Today there are no chemo patients in my room; just Crohn's patients hoping that remicade, the "miracle drug," will aid us in claiming our health back.  

The girl with the port was pretty bitter, and I can emphathize with her.  Actually, I feel awful for her.  I feel awful for anybody who is sick with cancer or an incurable illness.  I feel awful for a lot of things, but her presence really threw me into an array of emotions.

When she walked in it was as if a dark cloud filled the room with gloom.  My chest filled with the emotion of great sadness.  The presence of that emotion overtook my body and for a brief moment I felt as though a foreign invader had taken my body over and was trying to throw me back into a bout of self pity, sadness, hopelessness, and whatever deep dark emotion one has.  Maybe she reminded me of how awful the disease was.  Maybe it was because she shamelessly stared as three nurses were working on my arms, trying to get a vein.  

It could have been the fact that my veins no longer work properly and decide to roll or harden every time the prick of a needle pushes through my skin.  Or the fact that four veins blew each time the needle was pushed into them.  Or maybe that at that moment I was surrounded by others, just like me, who deal with the roller coaster of being sick again and again.  Not knowing what each day is going to hold.  The frustration of not having control.  The frustration of completely giving up control and hoping for the best.

It was something, but I didn't let it win.  I felt these awful emotions for a few minutes, but fought them off.  I reminded myself how far I've come the past year.  How strong I've gotten on my bike over the past few months.  How I've refused to accept the fact that because I am ill I have to show it.  Most people that meet me and don't know me will never know I am ill.  I don't display my sickness on my chest like a scarlet letter.  And so, I've won.  Yet again.  Little victories.  But the struggle isn't over.  It will never be over until I no longer have to get treatments and can come off of the toxic meds.

But I'm not alone.  Everybody comes to the ambulatory infusion center for the exact same reason.  Whether it be cancer or chronic illness, we all have one thing in common.  The hope that our individual treatments, as toxic as it may be, will help us get better and allow us to return to normal life.  

I will never forget the first time I came for my infusion a little over a year ago.  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting what I saw.  I was introduced to a completely different world.  The world of people, doing what they can, to merely stay alive.  It’s one thing to hear that cancer patients need chemo to stay alive, but  it’s a completely different story to sit side by side them and see first hand the emotional roller coaster they and their families go through when they are getting their treatment.  It's also not very comforting to sit next to other Crohn's patients, in the same situation as you, just trying to get by.  It's not comforting because I don't like to be reminded of how common this virtually unspoken disease is.  Crohn's patients suffer in silence because they are embarrassed to tell people that they, as adults, can no longer control their bowels when flaring.

It was that day that I saw life in a completely different light.  I saw what was truly important in life.  An epiphany if you will.  I realized that for years I had taken my health for granted, and at the same time was thankful that I have a chronic illness and not an advanced form of cancer.  I got angry at healthy people who still take their health for granted and don't know how good they've got it.  I was scared, speechless, shocked, and was overcome by sadness.  This was the "other" part of life that most don't speak about.  The part of life that, when it hits you and takes your health hostage, forces you to look back and kick yourself in the ass for not taking that vacation because you thought you didn't have enough time, not spending more time with your family, for spending too much time at work, for not taking that risk in fear of failing, etc etc

As I walked through the bare white hallway and peeked in each room I saw faces of fright, defeat, optimism, strength, and hope.  Each face had a different story, a different personal struggle, a different illness they were trying to kick.   

When I got to my room and sat in my chair I looked to the left and saw a mother getting chemo.  This was her life.  This was real life.  Getting healthy had to be my mission.  Getting healthy mattered.  For all of us.  All of us making ourselves sick with our toxic treatments so we can ultimately get better.  Sacrificing for the greater good.  We ever so desperately want back the healthy life we once took for granted.

It was at that moment that I realized that the only way I was going to survive and beat this beast of a disease was by digging down into the deep depths of my soul and seeing me for who I was.  I realized that I had to take my life back, in one way or another, so I can live long and healthy...

And here I am, a little over a year later, all bruised up with nine needle marks and four blown veins in both arms.  Though today was incredibly painful, sad, and emotionally draining, I still refuse to give up.  I've come a long way, and have a long way to go.  

Alive and Kickin...

The pic above was taken from the "kiddy" room in my ENT's office the day I learned I was going to have surgery.  For some reason, they always put me in the "kiddy" room.  I know I look young, but not that young.  I'm an adult people!  Anyway, there are fish hanging from the ceiling all over the room, so I thought I'd strike a pose while waiting for the doc.

I am happy to announce that the surgery went very well on Monday morning.  I was a little nervous, but was glad that the tonsils were coming out.  They have seriously been unbearable the past two years.  I was a little comedian ("It's been nice knowing you Clarice...") and in good spirits while the nurses were getting me ready for the procedure, but got a little freaked when they rolled me back to the OR and started strapping my arms and waste down to the table.  I starting shaking and was definitely freaked, but didn't have long to think about it as the general anesthesia kicked in as soon as I started inhaling the little mask thingy.

I have been recovering very well from the surgery.  The pain is not nearly as bad as I was expecting.  I had heard horror stories about adults getting their tonsils out ( and yes it is a million times more painful to get your tonsils out as an adult).  I was expecting my throat to feel like glass particles had been embedded in my throat or something.  Obviously I have pain and my throat gets really sore, but it's not unbearable.  The Percocet definitely controls the pain but leaves me high as a freakin kite.  I hope to be off of the stuff by next week, I really don't like the way it makes me feel.  I can't see how peeps can get addicted to that stuff, yuck! I'm lucky my ENT is such a great surgeon.  If he wasn't, I'm sure the pain would be awful.

Anyway, I've had about enough of the "Lifestyles of the Lazy and Fatabulous."  I've been laid up on the couch since Monday afternoon and am going nuts laying around so much.  I think I've watched more TV this week than I have the entire year.  Oh well, at least my 'rents get every movie channel known to man and Brad has more movies than freakin Blockbuster.  

Much thanx to Clarice, Seester, and Brad for taking such great care of me.  If it wasn't for you guys keeping me in check and waking me up to get my meds I'd be in a world of hurt.  Y'all rock!   

 I decided to break out of the house today so my bro took me to Whole Foods to get more Rice and Soy ice cream and popsicles.  I can't eat cow ice cream thanx to the Crohn's and have found that rice and soy ice cream are great alternatives.  There are many pros to this healthier alternatives anyway.  Much less fat, sugar, calories, and preservatives.  Y'all should try it out.  I never would have tried them had I not gotten a tonsillectomy, but am now totally hooked.  In case you're wondering, they don't make goats milk ice cream, and if they did, I'm not sure if I'd eat it.  It took me a little while to get used to goat milk and goat milk yogurt, so goat ice cream wouldn't exactly be an option.  Getting out of the house was great, but took everything out of me.  I guess I really do need to just rest and stay put for the next week.  I want to hurry up and heal up, so it's a done deal.

I see my ENT a week from Monday and hope that I'll be good as new by then.  Like I said, the pain is not nearly as bad as I thought, and the tonsillectomy was definitely worth it (not like I had a choice anyway).  I appear to be healing normally, so we'll see how it goes.

Last and certainly not least I wanna wish my Grammy Girl a Happy Bday on Sunday!  Love ya Grams!!!

Surgery Tomorrow!

SO, I found out Friday afternoon that I am going to have a tonsillectomy first thing Monday morning.  Talk about a fast turnaround!  I've been having problems with my tonsils for the past two years, and they've just gotten bad enough where they need to come out.  I'm not excited about the surgery, but am glad they're coming out.  They've been a pain in the @$$.   

I was supposed to fly to VA to get my next Remicade Infusion this coming Friday, but it's not going to happen anymore.  If I got my infusion this Friday I would have to wait four weeks to get my tonsils taken out b/c general anesthesia can't really be mixed with Remicade.  Right now I pretty much have the least amount of Remicade in my system (as I'm due this Friday), so I might as well have the surgery done while I have the least amount of toxins in my system.  The ENT got me in as quickly as he did b/c the longer it takes for me to get my surgery, the longer I go without my medicine.  I'm not sure when I'll be able to fly back to VA for my infusion after my surgery b/c my Gastro doc gave me a BIG time frame ranging from 10 days to 4 weeks post surgery.  What the?!  I guess it depends on my recovery.

I figured there is never going to be a convenient time for me to get my tonsils taken out with this disease, so this is prob the best time.  I'm healthy right now, and there's no guarantee I'll still be in remission in four weeks.  I think my recovery time will be about two weeks, but hopefully I'll be able to spin easy a week from tomorrow...we'll see.  I am pissed about not being able to go to Interbike though.  Oh well, there's always next year.  =(  

Below is a pic of the rising AZ sun as Mike and I were getting ready to ride up South Mountain (SOMO).

I decided that since I'm going to be off the bike for at least a week I might as well go all out.  When Mike let me know he was riding SOMO today I thought that would be the perfect ride pre-surgery.  I'm not going to lie; I was a bit intimidated b/c I've heard horror stories about the constant climb up the mountain.  Last night I tried to convince Mike that we should ride out by Sahuaro Lake, but he wasn't havin' it.  Needless to say, we rode SOMO today and I am absolutely ecstatic that we did!  It was challenging, but not nearly as bad as I thought.  I guess I really am much stronger than I originally thought(yeah Mike, you were right)!  

Below are some pics from the peak of the mountain.

This is a pic of me at the peak of the mountain.  I almost puked when we got up there!  

And you wonder why I love this place?  AZ has AWESOME cycling.  So many different routes so things don't get boring, TONS of climbing...what's not to love?  

Anyway, I'll leave updates on how I'm doing.  My surgery is at 0800 tomorrow, but I have to be there at 0600.  Wish me luck!  

Going, Going, GONE!

Remember the ridiculous chia pet commercials?  Well, my furry kinda looks like a chia pet in this pic.  What he has on his back, ladies and gents, is a tray of wheatgrass!  I buy wheatgrass about once every five days, and drink at least two ounces a day.  It's not necessarily the best tasting stuff in the world BUT I feel it's necessary to help keep me in remission and stay healthy!  It has this little sweet taste to it, which makes me shudder.  I started drinking wheatgrass daily about two months ago.  Up to that point I only drank wheatgrass once every now and then.  I feel that wheatgrass will help keep me in remission now that I am off the 'riods.  You can check out the benefits of wheatgrass here, here, and here.  I'll have a "Wheatgrass 101" blog entry coming soon!

Yes, that's right, I'm now COMPLETELY OFF the prednisone.  I took my last steroid pill on Tuesday, and have been suffering from withdrawal symptoms since Wednesday evening.  It started with a pretty bad headache on Wednesday night which led to me not being able to sleep due to the severity of the headache.  On Thursday morning my headache was accompanied by nausea and fatigue. Today I have a faint headache, but the nausea and fatigue are gone.  I rode easy today, only for about 25 minutes, which isn't very much, but enough to keep me somewhat sane.  I have to keep riding to stay mentally, spiritually, and physically strong.  If, for some reason, I get sick again I'm going to keep riding, even if it's on the damn trainer.

It's going to be an interesting next couple of weeks as in the past I have always relapsed 3-6 weeks after coming off the 'roids.  Not this time though.  I'm stress free, my hubby will be home soon, I'm the strongest I've been since being diagnosed, I'm eating very well, I'm with my fam, and drinking at least 2 ounces of wheatgrass daily.  Oh, and I'm starting my Xango drink on Sunday too!  I feel confident that I won't relapse, but only time will tell.  

I'll keep y'all updated, but until then, enjoy this ridiculous commercial!

Happy Birthday Dear Doggie...

First off, I want to thank My Love Bug for coming through yet again!  The man is in the middle of nowhere (literally) and still managed to send me flowers (a flower cake to be exact) for my bday (which was Sunday).  I know you won't get to see this until you get home, but thank you Love Bug!

On Saturday we celebrated mine, Caesar's (my beast in the pic above) and my seester's dog Giovanni's birthdays. For those of you that think we're weird let me say that this is the FIRST time we've had a bday party for the dogs.  I'd say a good half of you have done the same thing but are too ashamed to admit it!  My sis also gave us all a shout out on her myspace page so check it out at: www.myspace.com/mariafrench

This is a pic of the doggie bday cake(simmer down PETA lovers, it's fake chocolate icing)!

On a more serious note, I tapered down to 5mg of prednisone on Tuesday.  This is a big deal because I will fully be off the 'roids next Tuesday (the 26th).  For the past two years I have been battling a vicious cycle with tapering because I have always relapsed 3-6 weeks after coming off the 'roids.  I am confident this will not happen again, but can definitely use your thoughts and prayers, so keep me in mind!  The vicious cycle that has occurred for the past two years will be broken this time, I know it!  I will keep my blog updated with my progress!  I think the lack of stress/being around family/riding my bike is going to help me break this vicious cycle.  I'm hoping for the best...

Lastly, here is a pic of Tom and myself after a painful ride early Tuesday morning.  I met Tom and Paul (Paul will be in a later pic I'm sure) last Tuesday while riding.  To make a long story short, I was riding by myself when Tom and Paul zoomed by.  Tom yelled at me to draft so I grabbed onto Paul's wheel (he was on Tom's wheel) and we cruised for a little while.  I met up with them this past Tuesday and they handed me my ass, but it was an awesome, painful ride!  Paul broke his crank while climbing so Tom and I had to pace-line back to get the car so Paul wouldn't cook in the hot AZ sun! Tom pushed me to my limits and I was able to see how strong I've gotten over the past two months(thanx for not letting me wuss out Tom!).  I was in some serious pain but know the only way to get faster is to suffer!  Thanx guys!  I look forward to our ride next Tuesday!  I wish I was staying in the area longer, Tom could seriously get me ready for race season next year.  

I also posted my first write up for the Vanderkitten Blog!  I'm SO EXCITED about this opportunity!  More to come later...

YEAH Buddy!!!

I’ve been in remission for two months!  What can I say, I’ve been feeling great!  AND something HUGE happened to me this week…talk about a dream come true!  J-dub and a few other peeps know what I’m talking about…GET BETTER J-DUB!  I’ll blog about it when the time is right!  All I have to say is, y’all better check out the Vanderkitten website.  J-dub introducted me to Vanderkitten via Mandy’s blog, and the second I went to the VK website I was hooked!  Their clothing is catchy and HOT, and their jerseys are definitely the  HOTTEST I've ever seen.  I have never, EVER seen such awesome cycling clothing for women.  Vanderkitten is doing GREAT things for women’s cycling.  VK shows women that it is OK to be hot, sassy, feisty, and cute all while being CRAZY FAST on the bike.  Check out their website and their team standings.  These women kick ass.  More to come later…

 I was able to talk to my hubby this week for the first time in over a month.  That was nice, just a little over two months before he’ll be home!  YEAH!

 I did my first three hour ride in quite a while this past week.  It was awesome!  I’ve learned that it takes my body a few days to recover from a long ride like that.  That’s okay though, at least I was able to do it!  It was all rolling (I LOVE THE HILLS OUT HERE), and I felt pretty strong.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been on such a challenging ride.  I would say the last ride I’ve had like this was when I was a junior at the boat school.  On Friday a Ukranian guy I met while riding asked me if I had trouble getting up in the morning to ride (you have to get up between 0430-0500 to be on the road by 0530 to beat the heat out here).  I told him that getting up early hasn’t been an issue for me.  I am excited to ride.  I love riding and usually can’t wait to get to bed the night before so I can ride the following morning.  I know what it’s like to not be able to ride due to illness, and I’m not taking any chances or taking riding for granted.  Nope, never take riding for granted.  I take every opportunity to ride and savor every minute of it.  Nothing comes close to cycling.  Nothing.  Call me obsessive, but if you’re not a cyclist, you won’t understand.

 It’s awesome seeing how strong I’ve gotten over the past two months.  I started out only being able to spin easy for thirty minutes at a time, to struggling ridiculously on the hills (and I'm a climber), to now crushing the hills and going on three hour rides!  I am thankful for this, and continue to thank God for my blessings!  My body may not recover as quickly as it used too before getting sick, but hell, I’ll be wiped out for three days…it’s worth the beauty of a LONG HILLY ride!  If you’re wondering what my body does after a long ride, I’ll tell you.  The afternoon after a long ride I usually end up pooing a lil bit of mucous and a lil bit of blood, nothing to be too alarmed over (considering the amount of blood I’ve lost in the past while pooing).  To counter this I take lots of naps (it took me a while to get used to sleeping in the middle of the day), drink my wheatgrass, and eat well.  But the key to it all is plenty of rest.  It’s taken me over two years to listen to my body, but I think I’ve (almost) got it figured out.  I haven’t been able to go on such challenging long rides since getting diagnosed, so this is still a learning process for me.  I’m figuring it out though, and will hopefully cause some serious pain to chicks in WA State next year during racing season!  YEAH BUDDY!