Every surface in my house is covered in either dust or dog hair due to my complete disregard for any and all housework over the last two weeks. Liv is napping, Kade’s watching some vintage “Caspar the Friendly Ghost” episodes, and instead of tackling the filth while I have a quiet hour or two, I’m sitting at my computer…I guess old habits die hard.

I’m taking a break from running for the week in an attempt to let my muscles heal. The plan is to attempt a few miles on Sunday just to see how it feels and go from there. I hope the wheels haven’t fallen off completely and I can ease back into the mileage. My priority right now, though, is to get my blood sugars in control, but basal rate testing totally sucks.

Thank goodness this is going to be a very low key, hang around the house, rake the leaves, watch football, make some chili, drink some wine, kind of weekend. The kids have totally noticed my lack of running and ask me every day if I’m going for a run. I’m guessing that they’ll be pretty ticked off when I’m a part of their Daddy’s home, Mama’s running, let’s get donuts, Saturday morning ritual. This is my first weekend in 4 months without a long run on the schedule…crazy.

Notice how my weekend plans don’t include cleaning. There’s always next week…

I trained for 16 weeks. I ran three 20 milers. I sacrificed countless hours of sleep and nearly every Saturday morning in preparation for one day, one race, one chance at 26.2 miles. It was all supposed to come together yesterday. It was supposed to be my reward, my day of glory, my proof that I really can do anything. The day began full of promise and anticipation, and ended with defeat, frustration, and fortunately…a glimmer of hope.

I woke up at 4:30. My blood sugar was 202. I calibrated my sensor, took one unit of insulin and took a shower. My pump alarm went off indicating a calibration error. I started to panic, tested again at 180, entered it into my pump, crossed my fingers and went back to getting ready. Another calibration error and a sensor end alert sent me into a total panic. I restarted my sensor and said a little prayer that it would work during the race. I didn’t want to have to slow down and test. If I had only known what was going to happen later, I would have been thankful to have only had the problem of being without my CGMS.

I ate a banana and half a yogurt and bolused for my still over 200 blood sugar. I figured it would come down as we walked to the start corrals. I allowed myself an hour and a half before the race started to use the port-a-john, secure a spot in the 9:00/mile corral, calm myself down, and prepare mentally for what laid ahead.

I was feeling jittery, uneasy and nauseous. I tested at 343. I was literally freaking out. I did not know how to get my sugar in control before the race started. It’s unsafe to exercise when your sugar is above 250. Running a marathon is way more than simply exercising, and I knew that this was dangerous. I bolused another unit, afraid to put too much insulin in my system before taking off to run. I sat down in the corral, tried to center myself and focused on relaxing my nerves. I tested again…298. Relief washed over me. I texted the news to Kyle…thankful that the numbers were coming down. Then the crowds really started pouring in. We were like sardines (seriously, runners can really stink…that technical fabric packs a punch). I could feel my chest tightening so I took some deep breaths, but it was so overwhelming. I tested…337. That couldn’t be right…I tested again…371. Shit. I knew I was doomed. I couldn’t stop before I started. I had to run. One more test before the pack started to move…312. My heart was pounding out of my chest, my muscles were already screaming at me, and I was about to take a gamble with 26.2 miles.

I saw my sister and Marc cheering for me on the bridge at the start and I forgot about my sugar. I was ready to do this. Despite the thousands of runners around me, I was able to stay ahead of my 9:09 pace. The spectators were overwhelming. They lined the entire course, sometimes as many as five rows deep. I had taped my name across my chest so I heard people yelling “Go, Erika” the entire way. From the moment I started, it felt like the finish must be close ahead…why else would everyone be so excited, so quick to cheer me and everyone else on? The adrenaline rushes were not helping in my battle with blood sugar, but the crowd support was like nothing else I have ever experienced.

I saw Kyle, Brittany, and Marc at mile 2 (thanks to my sister’s “most awesome sign of the Chicago 2008 marathon”) and knew I wouldn’t see them again until the halfway point.

I also knew that I don’t usually settle into a run until 5-6 miles in, sometimes more. I decided to test at mile 3, just to see if my numbers were coming down. I was already at 173…a vast improvement. My body felt like it was battling sky-high sugars though. My muscles were getting tight. I was stopping at every water stop and drinking from my water bottle, but my mouth was still dry. I was in a losing battle with my body. I kept running, but it had really started to hurt. At mile 5, I decided to use the restroom. I watched the clock as I went. After 1:30 of continuous flow, I knew that it was bad. I was dehydrated. My morning of high blood sugars had left it’s mark and the increasing heat of the day, and 21 miles ahead were not going to make re-hydrating an easy task. I got back on the course, still on pace for a 4:00 race. My legs were getting heavier and the flames were moving up, deeper into my muscles. I concentrated on breathing…trying to ignore the pain. I kept testing my sugar every two miles and it stayed in the 150 range. I was amazed that it was at such a safe level…according to the numbers, I should have felt great…instead, I felt like I was falling apart. At mile 9, just as I was about to stop and walk, I saw a friend who took my mind off the building fire working it’s way up my legs. Despite that, and an effort at gritting my teeth, I had to stop at the medical tent at mile 10. I needed to find out why my body felt like it was running with high blood sugar when in fact my sugars were right where they should be. I asked for ketone strips, which of course they didn’t have. They didn’t even have a glucometer (thankfully, I never leave home without it). I asked for I.V. fluids. I knew that it would set me back, but at least it would allow me to finish. I was dehydrated and the only way to get re-hydrated quickly was directly through my veins. They told me that I’d have to go back to the med tent at the start to do that. Hell no. I was not giving up now. I self-treated with a salt packet, some gatorade and water. They took my blood pressure, which was 110/60 and my heart rate was 94…both good. I took off to conquer the next 16 miles. I started to feel worse, though. I grabbed some more gatorade at the next aid station. I even stopped to walk for a bit. Finally, I was at the halfway point and saw Britt’s towering sign in the distance.

I focused on making it to them. I knew they were worried about me because I called Kyle from the medical tent at mile 10 so they would know I’d be later than they expected. I put a smile on my face, pumped my fists in the air, and swallowed the lump in my throat that came every time I thought of the pain.

I was walking a half mile later. The fire in my legs was too much to handle. It burned less when I walked. My heart was pounding faster and my arms started to tingle. I was scared. I tested at mile 14 and was 140. Why was I feeling so badly when my sugar was finally in control? There was a medical tent there, but it was full of people so I decided to keep going. By mile 15, I was in tears. My chest was tightening, I was feeling nauseous, and my muscles felt like they were being ripped apart, the burning flames were too much to ignore. I couldn’t even lick my lips, my mouth was so dry despite the constant effort to hydrate myself. I thought about Kade and Liv, Kyle, my sister and Marc, my mom and dad, all of my friends and all of the support they had given me. I didn’t want to let them down, but I had given all I could give. Every time I blinked, I worried that my eyes wouldn’t open again and I would go over. I made the decision to stop at the medical tent at mile 16.5. I knew that I wasn’t going to finish the race. Leaving that course was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

I was dizzy and could hardly catch my breath enough to tell the medical staff what was wrong. They sat me down on a chair (all the cots were taken) and took my blood pressure and heart rate, which had increased to 150/85 and 130 respectively. I was begging for an I.V. I haven’t felt that helpless since the day I was diagnosed. All I wanted to do was drink. I was desperate for fluid. The nausea was building too. I put my head between my legs hoping to avoid the inevitable. They told me they weren’t letting me back on the course. They were taking me by ambulance back to the main medical tent at the start where they would do some bloodwork and get an I.V. hooked up. I watched the throngs of runners go by through a wall of tears. I was only 10 miles from the finish. I could not believe this was happening.

They got me on an ambulance with another female runner. She was on the gurney so I had to sit on a bench against the wall. The space was very cramped with the two of us and two medics. They said we had to go to the nearest hospital because the med tent at the start was filled. I kept looking at the ambulance door. I gave serious thought to jumping out and trying again. I was in such denial and wished that I had passed out on the course so the decision to stop would have been out of my hands. They tried to start an I.V. on me and couldn’t get a vein. After two attempts, I passed out and awoke lying on the bench, covered in sweat with an oxygen mask over my face. I was scared. My legs were shaking and the fire in my muscles was still burning. Once I was in the E.R., they hooked me up to an I.V. and I finally started to feel better. After two bags of fluid they let me go home. No one tested my sugar in the hospital. No one tested me for ketones. No one even mentioned diabetes until the resident came in to discharge me. I just wanted to get out of there, get in the shower, and forget all about the huge and utter disappointment.

I shed a lot of tears yesterday and today. I’ve gone through every possible scenario, every alternate outcome. I’ve beat myself up by going through the events over and over in my mind, re-playing the pain, the defeat. In my heart I know that I could never have finished that race. I’m lucky that I made it as far as I did. I’m even more lucky that I didn’t go into ketoacidosis and end up in the I.C.U. for days, or even worse… It doesn’t make it any easier, though. I didn’t finish what I started.

A friend of mine told me that “it’s not the destination, it’s the journey that matters.” She’s right. I learned a lot about myself the past 16 weeks, and I learned even more about myself yesterday. I was prepared to run a 4:00 marathon. It just wasn’t my day. For once, the 90% mental, 10% physical rule didn’t apply. No matter how much I willed myself to keep going, my body just wouldn’t allow it.

I’m hurting. The mental anguish of not finishing is almost worse than the physical pain of my shredded leg muscles (honestly, I can barely sit…let alone walk). But I got to experience this…

I got to run in one of the world’s largest marathons. I got to hear thousands of people I didn’t even know scream my name. I got the chance to see the pride in my husband and sister and brother-in-law’s eyes as I ran past them. I got to run with people from all over the country and all over the world. I got the opportunity to witness the power of running.

I also got to meet Brian Sell…bonus.

I have a score to settle, though. I will finish what I started, even if it is a year later…

Kyle helped me compile the “soundtrack of my life” for my friend’s party this evening. I’ve got to admit, it was difficult. I didn’t realize how many songs I have attached to moments in my life. The hardest part was choosing a single song off an entire album that meant so much to me. I know that Kyle was getting annoyed at my indecisiveness, but he should be used to it because I can never make up my mind. Here is the end result with a little snippet about each…

“Don’t You Want Me” - The Human League, This is the first popular song that I ever learned the words to. I think I was 3 at the time.

“Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony ” - I was at my paternal grandmother’s house nearly every day as a child. She had classical music playing constantly. Beethoven was my favorite. It also reminds me of all my year’s of ballet and my dreaded piano lessons (that I kick myself now for quitting).

“The New Style” - Beastie Boys, This was my very first tape. I still know every word to every song…hard to pick just one.

“Every Ghetto Every City” - Lauryn Hill, This song reminds me of my childhood, where I came from, where I’ve been.

“Fire” - The Pointer Sisters, This is the summer before high school. There were four of us. We were best friends and this was our theme song.

“Alive” - Pearl Jam, I could literally put three entire albums on here (Ten, Vs., Vitalogy). Locking myself in my room in high school and escaping with music was something that every teenager does…I was just lucky enough to get to do it with Eddie Vedder.

“Sleep to Dream” - Fiona Apple, Like every girl, I had my heart broken. It was the summer before my senior year and Fiona helped me to mend it.

“The Freshmen” - The Verve Pipe, This song came on the radio as Kyle was giving me a ride home from State Wrestling my senior year (he was a sophomore in college and offered to drive a bunch of us home, we weren’t dating…he was just being nice and I was lucky enough to be friends with both his brother and his cousin so I got to tag along). When it started playing, we both said “This is a great song” at the same time. He looked at me in the rearview mirror and our eyes met. I guess the rest is history…

“And It Stoned Me” - Van Morrison, We made the most of that summer before I left for college. I was leaving for St. Louis and the boy I had fallen head over heels in love with was heading to Toledo. That summer was one of the best times in my life.

“The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)” - Missy Elliott, My college roommate at Washington University was the child of two Israeli-born parents, an orthodox Jew, filthy rich, and should have been no stranger to the effects of discrimination. Despite her background and history, she introduced me to Missy Elliott’s music by saying, “Do you want to hear some n***** music?” When I called her on it, she looked at me blankly and said, “Well, that’s what they call it.” That moment has forever stuck with me.

“Light of Some Kind” - Ani DiFranco, I discovered Ani in college. Again, it was really hard to pick just one song. I turn to Ani for everything. I listen to her when I’m angry, when I’m frustrated, when I want to cry, when I need someone to understand. I guess I listen to her to feel.

“Anna Begins” - Counting Crows, I made a decision to transfer to a different college. I got engaged. I was changing the course of my life. I was starting over. This song resonated with me.

“Pretzel Sex” - The Buzz Poets, This was a local band we followed in Pittsburgh. Those years were fun. They weren’t easy, but Kyle and I had to grow up in order to grow together. Amazingly, it worked.

“The Power of Two” - Indigo Girls, This is us. This song is a testament to our relationship. We defied the odds. I had made a decision to follow my heart and I’ve never looked back.

“Vivo Per Lei” - Andrea Bocelli, This was our wedding song. I studied in Italy for a summer in college. I was an Art History major with a concentration on 17th century Italian drawings. We honeymooned in Rome and Florence. Italy is a major part of who I am.

“I’m Already There” - Lonestar, My maternal grandmother had a massive stroke less than 3 months after our wedding. She loved country music. My sister and I played this song in the ICU with the hope of waking her up. It didn’t work, but every time I hear it I know she is with me (I also break down into a sobbing mess).

“Beautiful Day” - U2, This song reminds me of 9/11, which is also my birthday. That day everything changed in the world. Now, on 9/11, I am grateful for all that I have and to be surrounded by all the people I love.

“Seasons of Love” - Original Cast of Broadway Musical Rent, After graduating college, I got married and immediately started post-bac pre-med work at another university. Kyle worked hard to lay a foundation for his career. We never lost sight of where we were going and every decision we made was done with the future of our family in mind. All that, and this happened to be our favorite musical of all time…we saw it three times.

“Good Night My Love” - Harry Connick, Jr., We saw Harry in concert when I was pregnant with Kade (he danced in my belly through the entire thing). Kyle brought this cd to the hospital when Kade was born. I remember him holding his newborn baby boy with tears in his eyes while singing this song to him. I also remember countless hours spent rocking my colicky baby while this cd played in the background. Some songs will forever be attached to a single moment and this is definitely one of them.

“Angel” - Sarah McLachlan, When Kyle’s mom was battling for her life against leukemia, I would imagine that the child growing inside me (Liv) was her angel. I can’t help but cry every time I hear this song. That time in my life was full of so much fear. The only thing we could cling to was hope. I also truly believe that Liv was born on the wings of angels. When I see glimpses of my grandmother in her, I know that it’s true.

“If You Listen” - Elizabeth Mitchell, This is from my all-time favorite children’s album. I play music for my children every single day. I love being a mother. I love seeing the joy on their faces as they twirl and sing in the kitchen. In those moments, I am a child again…dancing with them.

“Falling or Flying” - Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, When I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes I looked at it as a challenge. I am a week away from running my second marathon. You really can gain strength from adversity.

“Big Wheel” - Tori Amos, This is actually just a joke song. I love Tori and many of her songs have played in snapshots of my life, but this particular song has the lyrics, “M.I.L.F. don’t you forget…” so how could I not include it…

Kyle’s right…this isn’t a playlist, it’s a box set.

Anyone else willing to take on the soundtrack challenge?

Grandma’s surgery went as well as could be expected and now we anxiously await the pathology results. Thanks for the kind thoughts and prayers sent her way. If there is anyone in this world who could sense them, it would be her.

Apparently, my meat pies were delicious, but I couldn’t really taste them since my head feels like a pressure cooker. And then there’s that minor issue of pain every time I swallow…yeah, that sucks. I made a super-idiotic move and ran this morning, which pushed me over the edge. I am now officially sicker (more sick…whatever). I finally called the doctor (I try to avoid them at all costs…ironic, considering I was darn close to being one) and hopefully will get this taken care of tomorrow, or at least find out what it is. I have to admit that I’m grateful this is happening this week rather than next…just another bump in the road.