Live to Run - Run to Live: Running isn't pretty - part 5

Fall in Central Park - can it get any better?

I got a LOT done today, including two laps of the reservoir (3.2 miles) to begin breaking in my new 991s I picked up at the Expo. The shoes felt pretty good on my feet, though obviously stiff. The extra length - I'd purchased a half-size larger than before, to accomodate the new orthotics - is definitely what the doctor ordered. Nevertheless, my feet were definitely done with the run at the end of two laps.

I found this run pleasant and mildly stressful, just like a run is supposed to be. As follows my pattern, the first two and a half to three miles are harder than anything after that. I had found my pace for the day midway around the first lap and ran a good strong 5K, basically, despite a couple strong coughing fits. There are advantages to flat cinder track.

WARNING! Intriguing, yet gross stuff ahead! Slippery when wet!

There's an element to running with Cystic Fibrosis that is just plain ugly - and that's the phlegm. You see, I produce rather a lot of it and when running I'm often coughing. I am a vertiable slime factory; continually bringing up large blobs of vibrantly colored mucous. I'm used to it - others are not. (Only once have I ever passed someone at what I shall call an inopportune moment and gotten a bad reaction. The girl who saw me spit and saw WHAT I spit is undoubtedly scarred for life and even now sitting in therapy, babbling about how the park now terrifies her and that she battles night-terrors filled with cobras made of avocado-tinted jam.)

Surely other runners spit, too, as there are posted guidelines about where to aim during a run (in front of you, not to the side, so as to avoid hitting someone else). But I can't help but think my personal theme song should be this one off the old Sesame Street album I had as a kid: Great Green Gobs of Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts.

I often have to pound my chest in the middle of my coughing fits to bring the phlegm up - the coughing won't stop until I do. :( This is a new thing related to the running, unfortunately. And of course, all of this interrupts my breathing, slows my pace, and makes my abs hurt. The upside is, I have rock-hard abdominals. As I pound away on myself and keep running, I can feel stuff moving inside, if I'm lucky, and then work to bring it up. My coughing is loud and attention-getting. Other runners have asked me if I'm OK. Yes, I'm OK; you really should be asking the runner who's having convulsions by the side of the road.

So I move something. Now this salty blob is in my mouth and I have to figure out where and when to dispose of it. If I'm feeling generous, I will be as discreet as possible and wait until runners have passed before spitting. If I'm VERY polite, I'll even swallow it, though that's not optimal. But most of the time, I just stop caring. NY spitting laws be damned, I've got to get rid of this phlegm and it will go where I tell it to! I've become quite good at hitting a target and will often aim for a white stripe; because the pale green is disguised better against white than grey or black. (I'm thankful the rain eventually clears all this away, otherwise Prospect and Central parks would have pronounced loogie trails by now.)

As I exhale forcefully through pursed lips, this new bit of phlegm - perhaps a teaspoonfull - goes flying toward my target, rotating a little as it goes, elongating in the air. Perhaps only I see it go in slow motion. It hits the ground with a pronounced "You Can't Do That On Television" splat! If it hits dusty dirt, it will roll like mercury on glass. On plant leaves, it sticks like napalm; it is much thicker than Ghostbusters ectoplasmic reticulum.

I take a microsecond to check its color and consistency. Thicker/thinner than usual? Foamy or not? Quantity? Paler or greener than usual? Paler is better and usually means I'm doing pretty well. Greener indicates more infection and I usually can tell that anyway from being unable to breathe as well. Does it have streaks of blood in it (usually brown)? I get scared when I see that, to tell the truth, though the last few times, I've only had one expectoration with blood, then the succeeding ones don't have blood spots. Odd; but good. Continual blood in the sputum means another trip to the doc's.

The worst part is when I miss - when the expected escape velocity doesn't get generated and the green stuff ends up on ME. Then I have to wipe it off somewhere. My stuff is thick enough it will cling together and I can often clean up quite well with a leaf or something. Other times, I'm stuck with it. This is why I am better off wearing white shirts than my black tech T. After a long run with a few mishaps, I really look like hell - greenish streaks and spots on my t-shirt, shorts/pants, shoes, even my face. I've even been known to take off my shirt because it's gotten too gross for public display. And it's one reason I shaved off my beard.

Today, I didn't care. I only had one mis-fire, but it was a doozy. It was the kind where I knew before the trigger was pulled that this one wasn't going to make it to the cinders and sure enough - I spit and where did it go? Oh noes!, I think. OMGLOLWTF? my mind adds as one part of my consciousness text-messages another. I feel downwards on my shirt, and there it is - a wet, slimy mass liberally pasted vertically for six inches on my Staten Island tee. "Owned!!1!Eleventy!" I curse out loud.* Fortunately, the shirt is printed in yellows and greens anyhow - so at least I'm staying color-coordinated. I do my best to disguise the mishap and keep running. Later, in the bathroom at NYRR, I'll use that shirt to blow my nose - it's already goobered anyhow, right?

No, indeed, running is not pretty. Washers and dryers and rain are my friends, for they erase the evidence. I shall write a book about running with Cystic Fibrosis someday, when I have more experience. Now... what to call it....

*For the record, Fark.com has warped my fragile little mind...