After a whirlwind of holiday parties and events, here we are already a week into 2020. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve had the opportunity to chat about recovery with 2 friends that either experienced a brain injury, or have a family member recovering from brain injury. I never like to welcome anyone to the club, and it got me thinking a lot about where I was 4 years ago. As my friend wore the tinted glasses I no longer need, she referred to the headaches as a “helmet” of pain, we talked about a handful of other symptoms and the boredom of not being able to do anything. It all seems so fresh and yet so distant, as if it was some weird dream that I just woke up from. I’m thankful that she seems to be on the 4 week plan instead of the 4 year plan, and I hope she continues improving every day.

On New Year’s Eve, Facebook reminded me about a post from the end of 2015. A few months after my brain injury, as the calendar turned from 2015 to 2016, I thought we had made it through the “rough part of the journey” and things would be much better in 2016. I thought my symptoms would resolve. I thought I would be back to work. It was still so early, and I had no comprehension of the level of cognitive impairment I was facing.

If someone could have told me back then how slow recovery would be, would I have wanted to know? I’m not sure. Part of me thinks it would have helped avoid the frustration of  wondering when, or if, I would ever get better.  Another part of me wonders if the delusion of continuing to think it would only take a few more months is what kept me going. While I still don’t know how long recovery will take, I have learned that recovery is a process and not a destination. Every brain injury is different, and the process and duration of recovery is vastly different for everyone. We made it through these last 4 years and this December 31st as the calendar turned over, I was actually happy and excited for the future. So much good happened in our lives this year, and I am hopeful that we finally did make it through the “rough part of the journey”…well, at least that rough part.

Only a week into the new year and the calendar is already filling up with races and travel plans. I am traveling at least once a month through May, mostly to the southwest desert where it will *hopefully* be sunny, warm and dry. You can check out my event schedule here. Plenty of 50ks, a 50 miler, my 4th 100 miler, a big European running/hiking trip to celebrate our 10th anniversary in July, and a few more possible trips I haven’t posted yet.

My first 50k of the year is in 3 weeks and thanks to motivation from all the friends sharing cold snowy winter training miles, and correcting my severe iron deficiency, I’m feeling stronger than I ever have before. My husband and some friends refer to it as “iron doping”. I’m telling you, it is amazing what actually having some oxygen carrying capacity can do for your performance. Who knew? Feeling strong halfway through my 30 mile run on Saturday, a friend was asking about my upcoming events. I told him about races, and my trip to Austin for a veterinary conference. He asked if Josh was going, and I said I wasn’t sure. Our conversation went something like this:

Bryan: “So you might fly to Austin BY YOURSELF?”

Me: “Yep.”

Bryan: “Are you really going to rent a car BY YOURSELF?”

Me: “Yep.”

Bryan: “That is AMAZING!”.

Me: “I KNOW!!!!!”

The fact that I can even contemplate a solo trip is beyond exciting and a huge testament to how far my recovery has come. It is a far cry from previous trips that literally left me crying in the airport, and it meant a lot for someone else to recognize how big of a deal a solo trip would be for me. In the end, Josh may or may not come to Austin. More than anything, it is the fact that I would feel comfortable going alone that really matters.

Someone asked recently if I was totally recovered now. The answer is “no”. I’m not sure that will ever happen, and I’m fine if it doesn’t. There are still bad days, like a few days ago when I was running on a windy day and the ground started to separate into layers. Okay, the ground didn’t actually separate, but my vision did. Sometimes I get double vision and things start to look like some weird 3D movie. I actually stopped running just to look at the ground for a minute because it looked pretty cool. Then the vertigo and nausea kicked in, which wasn’t nearly as cool, and I spent the afternoon in bed. Thankfully, those bad days are getting farther apart, and I have a lot of really great days in between.

Those great days are even happening at work. Back when I started working last May, getting through 18 hours a week was a stretch. The last hour or two was consistently pretty rough. Eventually it became easier, and I am finally to a point that I am usually not wrecked by the end of a shift. Adding another day and increasing from 18 to 24 hours a week in September went really poorly, so I’m going to make a smaller increase and simply add an hour to each shift. As of this week, I’m working 21 hours. Who knows, by next New Year’s Eve, I might be looking ahead to full time employment….okay let’s be honest, it isn’t full time employment as much as full time pay and benefits that is worth getting excited about.

So here is to 2020 and hoping the “rough parts of the journey” are limited to the self-inflicted kind, like the last 20 miles of my 100 miler in May.

Only 20 weeks until the next TBI to 100.

– Kristin