Being Mortal

Being mortal is about the struggle to cope with the constraints of our biology, with the limits set by genes and cells and flesh and bone. Medical science has given us remarkable power to push against these limits, and the potential value of this power was a central reason I became a doctor. But again and again, I have seen the damage we in medicine do when we fail to acknowledge that such power is finite and always will be.

We’ve been wrong about what our job is in medicine. We think our job is to ensure health and survival. But really it is larger than that. It is to enable well-being. And well-being is about the reasons one wishes to be alive. Those reasons matter not just at the end of life, or when debility comes, but all along the way. Whenever serious sickness or injury strikes and your body or mind breaks down, the vital questions are the same:

What is your understanding of the situation and its potential outcomes?

What are your fears and what are your hopes?

What are the trade-offs you are willing to make and not willing to make?

And what is the course of action that best serves this understanding?

– Atul Gawande in “Being Mortal,” 2014, Metropolitan Books

The fact that we are mortal is a piece of knowledge that the majority of us do not and possibly cannot face squarely. In our families, we do not have the discussions about how we will handle aging, dying, or coping with terminal illness and suffering. Most of us do not have a plan. Most of us do not know if our parents or siblings have plans or if they’ve even given it serious thought.

Without a plan, survival becomes the course by default for most people. The main thought is what can be done to cure, heal, reverse course. For the elderly, survival usually means committing them to nursing homes where they are safe from harm and their care is regimented by the institution’s staff and procedures.

All too often these routes diminish a person’s quality of life. One’s self-direction is often taken away from them. It is traded off for the sake of keeping them safe. As Atul Gawande describes it, their freedom to write their own story is taken from them.

Some ideas I garnered from Mr. Gawande’s book are:

  1. Before serious illness comes we should have plans or at least ideas of how we want to live out our days, how much may want to suffer or not, what the trade-offs of quality of life for treatment to extend life would be. We should consider the questions he asks above. We should talk with our loved ones about what matters to us.
  2. During serious illness or debilitation, Gawande’s questions should be thought through again, the answers shared with our families, our values re-evaluated.
  3. We should see the value in every phase of life, even the phases of illness, suffering, old age, debilitation. We should give dignity to others in every phase of life.
  4. The best way to give dignity to others is to help them maintain their self-direction to the best of their abilities at all phases of life.
  5. All of the above is important for each of us individually and as a society of human beings, all of us being mortal.

I highly recommend the book “Being Mortal” by Atul Gawande. My brief thoughts, written because I feel moved immediately after finishing the book, do not do justice to the quality of this work. It is worth your time to read it and consider the matters Gawande raises.

Skin in the Game

Being in the Woods = Happiness (at least at the beginning of this run)

My last run introduced a new challenge to the mix of getting ready for the Hyner race: BLISTERS. With three weeks to go until the race, the blister problem has become a Gordian Knot situation that needs to be solved ASAP.

When I first got these Saucony Perigrine shoes a few months ago I worried the heels might prove to be a problem. But I ran in them a handful of times on rail trails and then on trails at Mahlon Dickerson Reservation. Their heels weren’t as snug as I’d like but they didn’t seem to be a problem. I ran at the Delaware Water Gap a few times with snow on the trails, my distance averaging 6 miles. It wasn’t until the trails were clear and I was able to go farther that I encountered the problem of blisters on my heels.

I did a little research and decided to do a test run near home today. I slapped on multiple Band-Aids and wore two pairs of wool socks. I went over to the Dickerson Mine Preserve (not the same place as the Mahlon Dickerson Reservation, but named after the same guy).

My plan was do run 5 miles. By mile 2 my heels were on fire again. The double socks didn’t help. I ground out 3 more miles, running more than walking because I just couldn’t wait to be done. Plus, I was in a hurry to get back to the drawing board to find a different solution to this problem.

And one other thing. It snowed again today. Aren’t we like 2 weeks into Spring? What the heck?

Here are a few photos from the Preserve:

One of several easy trails here
Power lines coming through
Same lines, different part of the trail
You know you’re on a New Jersey trail when there are empties left by a tree.

Early Morning Run at the Water Gap

Leaving the house at Zero Dark Thirty

I left the house at 5:30 AM to meet my son for a 6:00 start at the Delaware Water Gap. Our goal was to run a 10 mile loop twice: up the Red Dot Trail on Mt. Tammany, along the ridge on the Tammany Fire Road, the Turquoise Trail over to the AT by Sunfish Pond, the AT back to the start. And… Finally! The trails at the Delaware Water Gap were free of snow!

The run was tough going for me. I felt slow and tired. We got to mile 7 and what I thought to be a small stone in my shoe turned out to be a blister on my heel. By the time we finished the first loop, I had blisters on the backs of both heels. I put Band-Aids on them and started up Mt. Tammany again. My heels were ON FIRE!
Halfway up the mountain I started getting spasms in my hamstrings. I had taken Endurolytes and Sports Legs to prevent spasms. But that wasn’t enough to overcome the fact that I had not run more than 7 miles in one shot in months. The second time up the mountain got me. It seemed to take forever to make it.

I knew I couldn’t make the full 20 miles. So I sat on a rock and bemoaned my miserable condition. While my son continued on the full loop, I took the Blue Dot Trail back down to the parking lot. I was done.

I made it 13 miles. But according to my crazy training plan I should have done 21. Things are not going according to plan. But here are some photos.

Looking through the Gap just before sunrise
The Moon in the Belt of Venus, halfway up Mt. Tammany
Giving it my best on Mt. Tammany
Sunshine on Mt. Minsi, the shadow of Mt. Tammany, the Delaware River, the Poconos, the Moon, the Belt of Venus… all beautiful!
A snow-free Tammany Fire Road

My son taking in the beauty of the early morning sun and the snowmelt along the Turquoise Trail
Sunfish Pond

THE END
(Once the blisters start, fuck taking any more pictures.)

While Sitting on a Rock in the Woods

When you reach mile 11, have blisters on your heels, spasms in your hamstrings, and come to terms with giving up the 20 miles you had planned, getting off the mountain, and settling for 13… while sitting on a rock in the woods and feeling like a loser.