Yes, I'm Going to Run a Half Marathon with Multiple Sclerosis

My feet go numb if I sit still for too long, due to the nerve damage multiple sclerosis continues to inflict, but I've found a cure for the problem: I'm going to avoid sitting still by running a half marathon.


That's not actually true.


In fact, I signed up for my hometown Livermore half marathon the day after I finished last year's race, long before I was diagnosed with anything other than sore legs. Between the festive race-day atmosphere, the rolling green hills and vineyards the course winds through, and the staff of thirteen wineries pouring at the finish line (many of whom are my friends), Half Marathon Day is my favorite day on the Livermore calendar. It's a celebration of my city, coinciding with the end of the dark, rainy winter transitioning into our sunny spring.


I just really hope I get to be part of it this year.


When I was diagnosed with MS in November, and my legs started shaking without my asking them to, one of my first thoughts was whether or not I'd be able to run this race.


It seemed like a long shot.


Thirteen miles is hard when your body works just fine, and mine had developed the annoying habit of destroying itself from the inside. Deep down, I always suspected that I was my own worst enemy, and now I have and proven it conclusively.


But I needed a goal, I wasn't ready to give up the person I used to be, and I was already out $64 for the registration fee, so I was hoping I have at least one more race left in me.


I'll let you know.


But it looks promising. For most of November and December I felt nerve pain upon even attempting a light jog, and wondering what 13 miles would feel like. When I told my legs to move they often paused to think about it for a while before deciding whether to comply. The one time I ran something that almost resembled my old pace, I had pain and coordination issues for the next two weeks, including a dramatic fall on the stairs in my office foyer. No one saw it, which was a shame because it would have scored a perfect 10.


My energy was low. When I got overheated, I went completely blind in my left eye (generally after about a mile) and that issue continues even now.


Those are the issues I'm fighting against, but so far, I like to think I'm winning the battle. I fight the pain and frustration by imagining the joy of finishing 13.1 miles, and proving that while I have MS, it doesn't have me. I know that just like every other facet of our lives, a bad day can be followed by a better one, and the ups and downs aren't entirely within our control. We  just have to do the best we can with the hand we're dealt.


I set a goal of beating my slowest prior half marathon time, to prove that I could still outrun a prior version of my able-bodied self. It sounded nice inside my head, I thought, but my legs have not always agreed.


At my worst moments, when I can't get off the couch, can't stay warm, can't cool down, or can't stop the random shooting pains throughout my left side, I wonder if I can do this. I have never given up hope, but plenty of times it began to feel like a pipe dream.


The day after  Christmas, I had my own little Christmas miracle, as my symptoms started to improve. They haven't gone away, and they apparently never will, but I was able to slowly build my speed and endurance back despite the pain.


Somewhere along the way, I stopped hoping to beat my worst time and starting hoping I could beat my best. That shouldn't be physically possible at 39-years-old, and without fully functioning legs, but somehow it doesn't seem out of reach.


I ran 11 miles last week at a faster training pace than I've ever run, so on one hand, it looks promising that in three weeks I can do the same for a race of 13. On the other hand, I fell out of my office chair one day last week, so it isn't exactly a sure thing.




Back when I was less confident I could actually do this, my brothers offered to run this race with me. I don't think either is happy about it. On good days when I send out a text brag about my latest training effort (I tend not to mention the occasions when I fall out of my office chair), I get responses back to the effect that I've sentenced them to Cruel and Unusual Punishment by dragging them into this unmitigated torture. But I almost died doing a triathlon with them five years ago, and we ran a Half Marathon in hurricane conditions the following year to beat my brother's colon cancer, and I don't want to mess with a winning formula. Putting ourselves through near death experiences for the sake of our health has become a bit of a family tradition.
I'm sure it will be a good story, regardless, provided we all survive. My wife and niece (not the same person) are running the 5k that day to be part of the experience too.


I hope it's a fun day. I hope I can do it. I hope I can blow my old personal record away.


"I hope you're not setting yourself up for failure," a sympathetic voice said, when I mentioned my goal to run this race.


I responded that my training was on schedule, but deep inside, what I thought was that failure would have been refusing to try.


Back in November, in my first blog with MS, I longed for the day when my legs wouldn't hurt and my vision would return. I envisioned that I would triumphantly shout to the MS Troll that attempts to hold me back that it couldn't stop me, it could only make me take a few detours.
Today, four months later, I would write that sentence differently. It looks like the pain and blurred vision are here to stay, and I certainly don't have the energy for any detours along my upcoming 13.1 miles, so my perspective of what victory looks like has changed.


But I'm still out to prove that multiple sclerosis can't stop me, even if it makes things harder.


Wish me luck.
You can bet I'll be blogging all about it in three weeks.