I'm baaaaack!

So, I was chatting with a friend today via IM and she mentioned that she had found my blog. I had to pause and think about it for a moment, how long had it been? The last time I updated my blog I only had 3 children.
I know you are dying for a quick run-down of the past 3 years (ha!), so I will happily oblige. Mostly it's about how I went from near death to the healthiest I've ever been.
Since my last post I've had a (last) baby- a brilliant and charming girl named Evelyn, dubbed Mittens by her siblings when she was in the NICU. She is the most joyful, funny, smart little gal. I can't imagine life without her- of course last time I blogged I couldn't imagine life *with* a 4th child ;)
Whilst I was pregnant with her, I nearly died from a rare complication called Septic Pulmonary Emboli that resulted from an infection that developed in the PICC line that had been inserted because I couldn't keep down food or fluids.The infection traveled directly into my body and set up camp in my lungs. 4 days before Christmas 2008, I was told that if I survived the next 48 hours, I should pull through. Luckily I did survive that little (not-so-minor) hiccup but came out with permanently damaged lungs which of course makes it awfully hard to get a lot of movement into your daily routine. This led me to an impressive weight gain which only made it harder for my compromised lungs to do their job.  Add in some meds to boost lactation and you have the weight-gain equivalent of the perfect storm.
I remember clearly the turning point for me- it was the holiday party for my husband's work the following year. We arrived and everything was truly *lovely*. Except I was so uncomfortable in my dress that I wanted to go home and put on my pajamas. I couldn't get over the fact that I was the fattest chick there. I couldn't breathe and people assumed (general "people," this is nothing agains his co-workers, they're awesome!) that I couldn't breathe because of my weight not because of my lung damage.  I was, for the first time, missing out on the fun because I couldn't get past what I looked like. I thought to myself, "This is not who I am." I have never been a skinny girl, but I'd never felt like the fat girl, either. It was sobering. I vowed that I would be back the next year as the old me. And I was... but not before an assload of work took place.
In January of 2010 I began hitting the gym. And when I say, "hitting," I'm pretty lucky there wasn't a massive thud after I simply managed to climb the stairs. I started out at 10 minutes on the elliptical. And I felt like I was dying every single second. I couldn't breathe- I felt like there was a pillow over my face. BUT I didn't die, so I took this as a sign that I should keep going. And I did keep going. Every day I would add a little more time, a little more cross-ramp, or a little more resistance. Finally the fog began to lift. I wasn't svelte and sexy but (holy crap!) my lungs were getting stronger. Strangely my appearance was what got me in the door but my lungs were kept me coming back. From December 2009 to December 2010 I lost 65 pounds. I felt better than ever. I was back to my normal size. And I could exercise for 90 minutes (while sweating like nobody's business- oy!) and not be exhausted. My lungs were better than ever and I was released from the care of my pulmonologist. This was huge because it was an accepted fact that my lung problems would plague me for the rest of my life.
So my next logical step was to step up the training. The elliptical was beginning to bore me and I was way too efficient for it to be a long-term solution. So I decided to start running. On 1/1/11, I ran for the first time since college. 7.7 miles with my best friend flew by. I felt great. I felt strong. I was totally smitten with running.
So, I sit here, 85 pounds lighter than I was at rock bottom, back to my college weight offering an explanation for why I am so fanatical about exercise. About how I am one of those lucky people that doesn't look back and wish for what I once had but can't stop looking forward to what is to come. Every day that I run, I make progress. I gain strength. I learn what works (and what doesn't). I don't worry about my weight anymore. I think about how to get stronger and increase endurance.
To date I have completed 2 Half Marathons, several 5ks, an 8k, and am training for the Thunder Road marathon. For the first time in my life, I am embracing who I am, a short, feisty, sturdy gal who decided kick her own fat ass.