badassmatics / dare you to move / guest posts / health + fitness

mental health and exercise: natasha’s story

• by Awesome Guest Blogger

Over the last year or so as I’ve been switching a lot of gears in my own life, the amazingness that is the internet has facilitated the growth of a friendship between two people halfway around the world from one another who have, in my opinion, far too many parallels between themselves for it to be a coincidence (that said, I don’t believe in coincidence).

I’m blessed to have my friend Natasha sharing her story here about the effects exercise has on not only her body, but also her mental health (and that whole body image monkey that comes with the intermingling of the two).  Natasha lives in the Netherlands, grew up in the UK, and is a Canadian citizen [yay for Canada!], which makes for a lot of interesting discussion!  She’s also in the fairly recent past completed two triathlons and her first half marathon–no small feat for anybody, but when you add not only asthma but also a host of mental health problems, you’ve got one amazing woman!

It takes a lot of guts to open up about mental health issues in a forum such as this, but it’s something that needs to be talked about, so I’m really excited to be able to share Natasha’s story.

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natasha

I think it’s fair to say that I have a long standing love/hate relationship with exercise.  I’ve had the image of myself as exercise-hating, non-athletic and unfit as long as I can remember, and yet if I think back to my childhood, I don’t think this was always so.  It’s a fair point that I never fared well in team sports – a lack of co-ordination, coupled with being prohibited from wearing glasses in school PE lessons didn’t make me a very useful person to have on a team.  And then, of course, there was the fact that I was sick on a fairly regular basis.  I was only diagnosed with asthma in my early teens, but the signs were there from a younger age.

On the other hand, though, I used to love going on cycling ‘expeditions’ to the local woods, or to the park.  I enjoyed gymnastics, skating, skipping, playing elastics… I think I wasn’t the inactive child I picture myself as.

Kerri’s already had a couple guest posts by other asthmatics, and I’m not sure that I have so much to add, so I want to take this post in a slightly different direction and rather than focus on the topic of physical health and exercise, to direct my attention to the area of mental health.  In reality there’s a fine line between the two things, and for me, at least, the two are very intertwined.  As a teenager and through much of my twenties I suffered from depression, and both then and now I’m more prone than the average person to anxiety.

Cause and effect are a murky line, I’ve been recently diagnosed with ADHD, with which both depression and anxiety are often linked – either through biochemistry, or simply the result of trying to fit into a round hole as a square peg.  I also suffer from a condition called Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS).  PCOS causes hormonal imbalance, which leads to weight gain and hirsutism amongst the more visible symptoms.  Needless to say, neither the body image issues which result, nor the wonky hormone levels do much to help your mental and emotional health.

Between issues of self-image, and the breathlessness which came with the asthma, then, exercise quickly because something I hated as a teenager, in a world where school PE class involved tiny gym skirts, which suited only the sylph like.

And yet, here is the biggest irony of them all.  The PCOS, the ADHD, the depression, even the asthma, exercise would seem to be that magic pill that has the power to help all of these conditions.  The one thing you can do for yourself, without cost, without resulting to pharmaceuticals.

But…

The weight gain caused by the PCOS keeps you out of the gym because you’re ashamed of your body.  The ADHD distracts you when you intend to go out for a run.  The depression… well, really, when you’re curled up on the sofa in a ball of misery, does stepping outside for a walk even cross your mind?  If it does, it only serves to remind yourself how worthless you are, because it’s a beautiful day outside, and you just can’t face it… yet you hate yourself for wasting it.  And then, the icing on the cake, the anxiety, the fear that you’ll have an asthma attack you can’t bring under control.

When I read back over that last paragraph, I have to say that it doesn’t sound very hopeful.  And yet, last year I took part in a 160km (100miles) walk in four days.  After a year sidelined from running whilst I worked to bring my asthma back under control, this year I ran my first half marathon, and took part in two triathlons.

Yes, I am still overweight, although I have it under better control than in my teens.  I can’t say that I’m happy with my weight, but I’ve learned to live with it, and I haven’t stopped striving to lose those final pounds.  I’m learning to take baby steps, set myself concrete goals, and figure out how to work with the ADHD, rather than waste my energy fighting against it, and myself.  The anxiety remains, but I refuse to let it defeat me, and with every small success, I come closer to defeating it.  My asthma is better managed, and I’m beginning not only to run despite asthma, but to learn to push myself beyond what I believed were my limits.

And yes, it is true, the further I push myself out of my comfort zone, be it facing an Open Water Swim in a triathlon, or sparring in a kickboxing class, the more I feel the benefit, both physically and mentally.  I may not be losing weight, but I’m toning up.  I may still get more out of breath on the stairs than my colleagues, but I know that’s the asthma talking and not my fitness level.

And most importantly?   At the end of a workout, I feel like I’m on top of the world.

—–

Thanks for sharing your story, Natasha!  (Gym SKIRTS? You poor thing!)

Natasha lives with her crazy cats, enjoys reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on (she keeps saying she needs more bookshelves!), and is a software architect with a passion for photography and travel.  Natasha blogs at Heron Underwater, sharing her stories of athletic endeavours, her health and life in general.

asthma / badassmatics / guest posts / health + fitness

becoming an athlete with asthma: elisheva’s story

• by Awesome Guest Blogger

Several years ago I connected with Elisheva over our common bond of our occasionally spazzy lungs.  Since then, she’s become among my closest online friends, and we’ve shared in both frustration and celebration with one another. She is currently training for the Tel Aviv Marathon 10K and I’m excited to have here sharing her story about being diagnosed with asthma in middle school, growing from that point forward, and her current fitness goal participating in her first race.

I’d also like to add, that while Elisheva downplays her story with the “mild asthmatic” clause in her second paragraph, I’m thankful she’s sharing it because it’s a story that a lot of people with asthma can identify with, as somewhere from 50-75% of people with asthma fall into the “intermittent or mild” categories (Lieberman, AAAI), like Elisheva does.

Take it away, Elisheva!

—–

This is in response to the challenge Kerri posted in her post “exercise and chronic disease : sharing my asthma story“.  First off, I don’t like the term “chronic disease”.  The word “disease” makes me think of creepy crawly infectious diseases that are going to kill you.  And second I don’t like associating that term with myself.  I’m a healthy person.  I really am.  I’m lucky.  I spend the vast majority of my time not thinking about my health or feeling sick at all.  Hence the word “disease” is out since I don’t have any creepy crawlies.  And the word “chronic” is out since I spend most of my time feeling healthy.

Tho.. what’s the exact definition of “chronic”?  Can it also mean something that keeps coming back?  If so… okay fine.  I guess chronic is back in.  Then again, I spent about half an hour today hunched over doing body shaking coughs and taking a couple more puffs on an inhaler as a result of running in the cold this evening.  But hey, that’s normal, isn’t it?  That doesn’t bother me that much.  Tho this was my first (quite pathetic) run in two weeks, after an unscheduled hiatus due in part to my apparent inability to breathe like a human in winter weather, not that running in pouring rain and hail is all that great of any idea anyway.  Kerri expressed interest in me doing a post, and I don’t want to let my buddy down.  Tho I do feel a bit unoriginal writing about the same condition as has already been posted about.  Plus overall, I’m a pretty mild asthmatic, tho certain things – exercise included – will always be challenging for me.

Asthma is nothing new to me – I’ve been dealing with it since I was in fifth grade, back in 1996.  Pretty awkward age to get diagnosed with anything, but hey, everything’s awkward when you’re a tween.  And a teen.  Happy I never have to do those years again.  And at that point I was already pretty familiar with it since my little brother, who was six years younger than me, was asthmatic since birth and was a regular in the ER and did inhalers and nebulizer treatments at home.  That ended up being beneficial to me since (a) my parents were already pros and (b) I had his nebulizer available, which I attribute to my never having been in the ER myself.  Looking back at my middle school and high school years, I don’t remember asthma being a particularly huge deal.  I only have a few distinct memories of it really affecting my life throughout those years.  Carrying around asthma equipment in your school backpack is hugely awkward.  Actually using it is 100 times more awkward.  There were many instances where I had friends pleading with me to use my inhaler already when my breathing was clearly out of control but I insisted I was fine.  I think I even got kicked out of class once because my coughing was so loud and distracting.  In getting ready for gym I used to wait for all of the other girls to finish changing and leave the bathroom before I took my inhaler.  I think I did the same thing while I was on the volleyball team in high school.  Seventh grade gym class was interesting.  For probably the first and only time in history, the asthmatic kid was the teacher’s pet.  The teacher told me that her four year old daughter had just been diagnosed with asthma and she was going through the process of learning to properly cope with it and manage it.  She was extra nice to me and asked me questions now and then about asthma.  There was one time that year when I sat out on gym class because of asthma (I think I was getting over a cold then).  There was another girl who was also sitting out and she asked me what was wrong with me that I wasn’t participating.  I said “asthma”.  And she replied “Oh. I have asthma too. That’s not a reason to sit out of gym class.”  I don’t remember if I asked her why she happened to be sitting out that class.  Thinking… thinking… Oh, there was that time in volleyball when I guess I lost my inhaler and didn’t notice and suddenly one of the teachers was up in front of everyone waving my Ventolin asking whose it was.  I realized I was missing mine and had to go up and claim it, which I found to be highly embarrassing.  And… that’s it, I think, for schooltime asthma exercise memories.  School was a long time ago, man.

So anyway, fast forward to the present.  In an attempt to get in shape I swim once a week (which I’ve been doing for the past two years or so), do Zumba once a week (since January) and now I got it into my head to take up running (about two months ago).  In theory I’d like to be running twice a week.  I’m planning on running 10K in the Tel Aviv Marathon in March for a group of asthma awareness people.  I used to be good about running twice a week, but then the weather changed and whatnot and yeah.  In addition, I live four flights up with no elevator and don’t have a car.  So I spend a lot of time walking and going up and down stairs.

I’m not going to lie.  Exercising with asthma is hard.  And it’s frustrating.  The frustration is probably the worst part.  You take your inhalers like you’re supposed to.  Before exercise.  Sometimes during exercise.  Often after.  Sometimes you’re totally fine (I’d say about 50% of the time I’m totally fine).  Sometimes you cough your way through the exercise session.  Sometimes you’re fine during the exercise and fine right after and then an hour later you’re doubled up emitting these body shaking coughs.  And it all seems worth it (Okay it seems worth it to me.  Not to most of my real life asthmatic friends.  I guess they’re not masochists.) because you’re always improving.  Your speed is better.  Your endurance is better.  Your breathing often is better.  You get minor frustrations here and there about why you STILL get so out of breath in the pool after two years of regular swimming and changing up your meds, when you take them, etc.  But whatever.  Swimming makes you happy (okay, I don’t know about you.  I love swimming.  Even when it’s hard.)  You start believing in yourself and looking up asthmatic athlete forums online and reading articles and interviews with famous asthmatic athletes (How cute is this?) and then you get your period or a cold or the weather changes and suddenly you can’t even sit quietly on your couch in your house without the body shaking coughing and the breathlessness.  You take what seems like a billion inhaler breaks throughout the day and wonder how the hell you’ll be able to run in that damn Tel Aviv Marathon if you can’t even take a deep breath or laugh or yawn without setting off uncontrollable coughing.  I honestly don’t know how people with constant asthma symptoms deal with it.  My main coping mechanism is telling myself that it’ll be over soon.  Of course it will be back later, in weeks or months if I’m lucky.  But this specific episode will always be over soon.  Cuz things end.  Periods, colds, rain… it all ends.  And then I’ll be fine.  Back to my regularly scheduled breathing well, taking exercise and other things into account.  But those things don’t generally last long.  Or are particularly disabling.

The biggest frustration is the time lost.  Like now.  Missing two weeks of running doesn’t just keep your training from moving forward.  It actually moves you backwards.  You end up losing some of what you’ve gained and have to start all over again.  And I’m actually worried that something will happen and I won’t be able to run the 10K.  How do I know I’ll be okay specifically on that day?  Worst case scenario I can walk it.  The chances that I wouldn’t be able to even walk it are pretty slim.  But I really do want to run it.  Like really really.

I think for me at least, asthma serves as a driving force for getting in shape.  Some of my friends have pointed that out to me.  I tend to use it sometimes as a guilt card to get people to come to Zumba or to swimming with me.  Or to train for the marathon.  I say something along the lines of “I have an incurable lung disease (make it sound as pitiful as possible, eh?) and I do _______.  I have to take drugs in order to breathe well enough to do ____________ and I cough while I do it and I still do _______.”  Unfortunately for me, such tactic doesn’t work as well as I’d like it to.  A lot of times they’ll just say I’m nuts or if they’re smart, they’ll tell me that I exercise because I’m asthmatic.  Because I want to prove to myself – and others – that I can.  The first time I heard someone tell me that I was impressed.  I think there’s a lot of truth in that.

I hope this gives you some insight into what it’s like to be an asthmatic athlete (even tho there have been a couple before me already).  I’d really like to read what it’s like to exercise with other conditions and what kinds of things you have to take into account and what your feelings about the whole thing are.  Kerri – I know you have friends with diabetes who read this.  And people with other stuff too.  Also, Kerri thanks for coming up with the topic.  Challenge accepted.

—–

Thanks for sharing, Elisheva, and best of luck with your race!  I can’t wait to hear about the rest of your training and read the race report.

Elisheva lives in Jerusalem and blogs at Ramblings of an Occasionally Oxygen Deprived Mind about whatever strikes her–whether it’s asthma and exercise or the situation in the Middle East, posting recipes to her favourite dishes, or general updates about what she’s up to.  She loves coffee, beef and chocolate, is currently on a muffin baking kick (sometimes making me want to get on a plane to Israel to share!) and exploring her community.  She’s also mom to a hamster named Boten [which translates to “peanut”–awwww].

asthma / badassmatics / health + fitness / wellness

exercise and chronic disease : sharing my asthma story

• by kerri

I’ve written exactly one blog post about the intersection of exercise and asthma.  Given the fact that asthma management is a pretty big modifier in how I exercise, and that both topics are really important to me from a personal standpoint, maybe it deserves a little more attention here.

So let’s start at the beginning. In grade eleven, the year I was diagnosed with asthma, gym class was not mandatory. This is likely both a blessing and a curse in that 1) My asthma was not managed well; 2) I did not have a family doctor, thus contributing to point 1; 3) I had not done anything more than a 1K walk since grade ten; 4) Being required to be physically active would have likely made me catch my asthma earlier and receive proper treatment sooner [Read: for me, “take your blue inhaler and you’ll be fine” is not proper treatment].

Fast forward to August 2008 — I’m using my rescue inhaler three to four times per day every day, and was symptomatic between doses finding myself awaiting the four hour mark so I could take my inhaler again (in that regard, I’m sort of a badass now and will dose more than two puffs every four hours if necessary).  Two months into my mandatory grade 12 phys ed classes I finally got put on additional asthma medicine (FloVent), which didn’t help as much as it should.

Fast forward to January when something made me decide to take dance of all things (how rad is it my high school had a dance class?).  Yeah, still got the uncontrolled asthma going on, still winter (my bad season), and now I’m basically going from zero to sixty in terms of exercise.  That’s gonna go well, right?  I spent more time than I care to sitting on the sidelines on days that i just couldn’t do it.  I started up on Singulair midway through the term, which was later discontinued as it was decided it wasn’t doing anything.  Towards the very end of my grade 12 year, I was started on Symbicort in place of the FloVent, and things finally started feeling a little bit better.

Around this time, midway through the term, I think, is when I connected with Steve, who has since become an amazing role model and friend. Steve was imperative in helping me get the asthma sorted out better and totally awesome in encouraging the physical activity. I strongly believe that if it weren’t for Steve that I probably 1) wouldn’t be a kinesiology major right now, and 2) would likely have just started sitting on my ass again after dance ended in June.  I started fitness walking around this time until it because freezing.

Fast forward again to midway through first year. It’s the winter, early 2010, the asthma sucks, and I start going to the gym. In no way was my asthma controlled, but it was better than it was nearly two years later, and I was sick and tired of waiting around for something good to happen. So I go to the gym. Take my inhaler beforehand, whatever, go give’r.

Here’s the deal: I went to the gym again today, and the issue is kind of just the same.  Especially in winter (granted, it is currently unseasonably warm, so I’m doing better than expected) I just cough a lot. It doesn’t really matter what’s up, good day/bad day, I just cough a lot, especially when I’m exercising. It’s one of the reasons I hate going to the gym, because I hate people staring when I cough like the guy beside me was today, and I hate grossing people out.  I hate freaking people out.  I’ve had enough of those experiences too–grade 12 gym when I crashed on the bleachers following running the last two minutes of the twelve minute run after walking the bulk of it because i was so freaking tight and didn’t know it was okay to take my inhaler again since I’d just taken it.  Then, in like, 2010 or something pushing myself way too hard and getting way too tight on the elliptical and having to stop, use the wall to support myself and take my inhaler. My friend who was beside me basically had no idea what was going on as she’d never seen my asthma get that bad before.  So the freaking out people thing? I’ve done it, and I hate it, and I try really hard to avoid that kind of stuff.  Like, at the start line of my first 10K, I took my inhaler and my coworker, standing beside me, didn’t even notice.

It’s why I prefer to work out alone, because then I can cough and cough up shit and nobody is there to get grossed out, and not have people staring at me every time I cough like the dude in the gym yesterday on the bike beside me. Like, sorry? [Related: No, I wasn’t breathing great at the gym, or before for that matter, so I was awake at 6 AM and don’t feel so good today, but in my mind it’s worth it.]

Since then my medication regime has switched up and things are better. It takes me three inhalers daily and usually a daily hit or two of the rescue inhaler (at least). But you know what? I’m doing it. It’s hard and it sucks sometimes, but it’s worth it.  It’s even more worth it when on occasion I can kick my non asthmatic friends’ butts endurance-wise, or in that ‘yeah, i have kinda shitty lungs and still do this, so . . . what’s your excuse for not taking care of your body?’

So yeah, exercise is still a current issue. That may never change. I just basically don’t care anymore, I try not to let myself be limited, and if this is as good as it’s getting, then I’m just gonna keep pushing unless I’m having issues when not exerting myself.  I’ll probably never be a great athlete, but what counts is that I’m getting out there and doing it and trying.  My current goal come spring will be training to walk a half marathon in Fall 2012.  Maybe I’ll feel like an athlete after that or something.

Yeah, chronic disease sucks. And yeah, it makes stuff in general way harder. But your body can only give you what you give it.  So what choice are you making on that?  Grab your goal, make your plan, and go for it. Whether it’s being able to run a marathon or walk up your stairs or play with your kids . . . you can do it. Own it.

What’s your story? Leave me a comment, or e-mail me about how you’re kicking ignorance through fitness.  Because unlike asthma, CF, MS, COPD, diabetes, heart disease or something else you may be facing . . . ignorance is a curable disease.  I’d love guest posts on the subject, so if you’re comfortable and would like me to share your story here, I’d be honoured — just let me know.

badassmatics / dare you to move / race report

Imagine 5K – race report

• by kerri

The Imagine race last year was my first “real” race [you know, with those tear-off things on your bib number that you can’t pin onto your shirt], and I was so stoked to be back again this year.  The race is in a fairly small town, which makes it have this awesome atmosphere, where people are sitting on their lawns and cheering and cute children are giving out freezies to runners and walkers en route!

—–

We arrived a bit late, which was just chaos as Danielle and I still needed to register.  We weaved our way through to the reg table, paid our fees, and jetted over to the start line [not the nice calm start I’d been anticipating!] at the back of the pack.  We did our share of passing people throughout the first few kilometers, all but a few were people with jogging strollers and/or small children.  So I’m unsure if our passing counts for anything. Also, I think we passed a couple runners which always makes me laugh–ohai, you just got passed by a walker, you know.

The first kilometer always sucks for my legs, no matter what I do.  And I know you’re not supposed to do new things during races, but really.  So I decided to suck back a gel [after Danielle and I traded, cause I wanted her strawberry kiwi and she wanted my grape pomegranate [mostly cause I think she thought it was berry].  Dude, that stuff rocks.  Hello glycogen.  Legs felt good after that [Well really, what was I expecting. Four graham crackers isn’t exactly ample pre-race nutrition].  I now get what the hype is about.

I think I missed knowing it was kilometer two completely, which leads me to believe that perhaps CarbBoom! is full of drugs.  I remember looking at my Garmin at 2.55 kms and telling Danielle we were over halfway there in about 26 minutes.  Not super fast, but steady.  I’d like to mention here, that we kept up such a pace that it was fast enough for my liking, but thanks to aggressive pre-medicating, despite how I sounded while talking, I felt good and didn’t need my inhaler at all during the race.

 

I loved the third kilometer.

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Danielle looking awesome at 3K.

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I was indeed actually walking, but I was also posing.  I don’t typically look like this when I walk.  Typically.

Also, K 3 contained the best sign of the entire race:

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At which point, an old dude who was racing ran up, grabbed the sign, and ran off with it [and then returned it].  Apparently that hadn’t happened in the race yet, so the people with the sign were all stoked that someone had tried to steal their sign.  Best sign and best old dude ever.  And then I cheered for the people who made the sign.

Fast forward to 4.6 K.  After someone tells us they like our cat ears [thank you Tara], I look at my Garmin, and realize “If I had been paying attention to the TIME on this thing, not just the distance, we could have cranked up the pace earlier and I’d have PR’ed.  That sucked. We kicked up the pace, then decided to try running.  Running never works for me.  I didn’t last long and told Danielle that I had to walk.  Kept the pace cranked.

Passed the finish line.

No idea if there was a clock.  Stopped the Garmin in the chute at 5.09K and 54+ minutes, as I forgot about it.  I went back and found that i crossed the finish at 53:43.  44 seconds faster and I would have had a PR.  Seriously, it sort of sucks when the only one you’re racing is yourself and you are THAT close.  Or at least i’m consistent in 5Ks? Anyway, yeah, frustrated I wasn’t paying more attention to the Garmin earlier.

——-

Post Race

We got our medals and progressed through the chute.  I stretched it out a bit while Danielle went to the bathroom, then we found chocolate milk [seriously a staple of my post-workout/race nutrition] and various other things in the food tent.  After about ten or fifteen minutes we met up with Caren and James, ate some food, and then went to the Land of Amazing

DSCF9461.JPGFREE MASSAGE LAND.

That was awesome.  I am officially addicted to massages.  I signed my life away and told them that if I died it wasn’t their fault, and then chilled out on the table while the physiotherapy student made my legs feel like amazing.  Then because Danielle wasn’t done yet and the masseuse man looked bored, I got him to massage my shoulders.

I’m now two years in at this race, and it’s by far my favourite.  It’s run like a RACE.  With Gatorade and water and massages and food and CHOCOLATE MILK.  Oh my goodness.

So while I didn’t perform as well as I wanted to, I made it.  I had a ridiculous awesome time, and I can’t wait till next year!

advocacy / asthma

i and identify — wearing medical id

• by kerri

(Anybody recognize that P.O.D. title?)

Yesterday evening, sitting next to the sixteen-year-old I do respite with at youth, she grabbed my arm and started playing with my purple flowery sportsband.  Didn’t ask about it, just played with it, and asked what time it was [I think she thought it was a watch].  The funny thing is, the last two weeks, none of the kids had asked about my bracelets (I work with like 55 of them).  Until yesterday, that is.

“Miss Kerri, do you have asthma?” [The kids at work call me Miss Kerri.  It’s all cute and such, though it threw me off a lot the first, oh, two months of work.]

“Yep.”

“[Insert other kid’s name here] has the same bracelet!  And she has asthma, too!”  [Hooray for being matchy with one of our kids?  She doesn’t wear hers much anymore, I’ve been noticing.]

“Yuppers.  I have a black one too, but it’s too big.”  Kids understand all about things being too big.  Adults kind of lose that sort of understanding.

The other thing adults kinda lose, is the ability to not ask me incessant questions and just take it for what it is.  Your bracelet is matchy to my friend’s bracelet, you both have asthma, I’m gonna go back and play now.  Kids are so easy (most of the time).

Last night, my other respite girlie sits down on my knee and starts playing with my bracelet. “I used to have that one!  Except it had velcro on it.”  [The girlie has asthma, recently diagnosed epilepsy and potentially severe environmental allergies in addition to the behavioural/developmental things that lead me to doing respite with her].

 

And my question is . . . why are these kids not wearing their bracelets?  I understand MedicAlert is a little pricey for some, but there are other options.  It’s something I definitely think is important, and people don’t understand how important it actually is..

It’s your life.  Do you wear medical identification to identify your invisible illness?  Why did you make that decision, or why not?