So, we promised to get back to the subject of Eyegirl needing an asthma inhaler.
Until the 500 Festival Mini-Marathon, she didn’t. Everything went well throughout the race. As usual, I was excited at the beginning and wanted to run fast, but Eyegirl was smart and paced herself. By 10-13 miles, I was dragging my butt along and she was doing fine and checking to make sure I was OK.
For the last half mile, awesome motivational rock music was playing over the speakers and tons of people were watching from the sidelines. I probably looked like a huge idiot playing air guitar as we strolled along the last stretch. As you can see from the picture, we crossed the finish line feeling pretty good! (Despite all the other states of emotion you can see in the picture. By the way, our actual time was under 3 hours, but as you can see our gun time was longer as it took us almost a half hour to get through the huge crowd at the starting line.)
As we started walking, I was looking around for the snacks and water, but thankfully one of our amazing US soldiers standing at the finish line noticed that Eyegirl was in distress, struggling to take deep breaths. He ushered her to the medical tent even though she wasn’t sure what was happening.
Fortunately, after about 30 minutes of water, rest, and albuterol treatments, she was back to normal. “You should go tell that soldier thanks for noticing I was in trouble,” she said, “I probably wouldn’t have realized I needed to go to the medical tent on my own.” So I did and he seemed to appreciate hearing back from us. Not to get too off topic, but we are so grateful for our service men and women and encourage you to show them at every chance you get!
In the following weeks, her primary care doctor prescribed a personal albuterol inhaler to use before exercise, especially when it’s cold outside. Being new to this stuff, we are dummies and frequently forget to bring it.
Fast forward to last month. Eyegirl got a surprise day off from work and was able to run a 5K race with me as part of an event for my work. The fastest runner for each age group scores points for the company’s team, so I had the bright idea that we would split up and I would run as fast as I could to try to score the most points for our team. In the sense, the plan worked, since I ran my fastest 5K yet (26:25). However, in another sense, it didn’t work:
I was cooking along, somewhere around the 2.5 mile mark, where the course looped back on itself. This is great, I thought, I am really going fast and Eyegirl is probably right behind me. When I turn the corner, I will cheer her on big-time! I turned the corner and started scanning the crowd coming the other way: girl in pink…shirtless guy…a group of guys in skin-tight orange bodysuits… hmm, weird but don’t see Eyegirl yet – keep looking. There she is! “Alright, nice work!” I yelled.
But she didn’t smile. Instead, she pinched her fingers in front of her face. Yeah, it is smelly downtown. For some reason, there is often a sewage smell when you are down-wind around here. I kept running.
Strange, we’ve talked about that before, why would she feel the need to signal me regarding the sewage smell? By now, we had crossed paths and were out of each others’ sight.
Oh no, was she signaling that she needs her ashtma inhaler? It wasn’t really a nose pinch, but sort of a general pinch in front of the face. More up and down than side to side. Crap! Should I turn around? I was nearing the finish line. What do I do? I know, I’ll scout the location of the medical tent and then watch for her to cross and take her there. Should I go tell them to get an inhaler ready?
It felt like forever watching the crowd come across the finish line. I hope she didn’t collapse out on the course! At least there were a lot of people around. But sure enough, she came blazing across the finish line. I waved her down, “Do you need your inhaler?”
She nodded and off we went to the medical tent.
After everything was all better, she told me, “I knew if I signaled, you would scout out the location of the medical tent and be waiting to take me there.”
“Oh good, that worked out well then. I thought I was just panicking.”
Sometimes we’re really on the same page.