Zombies, Run (no really, run!)

As a fairly frequent (though others might call it obsessive) runner, I’m always interested in new ways to keep myself entertained while plugging away at the miles.

Music is generally my top choice, but gets old after awhile. I found audio books to be quite entertaining, particularly for long runs. The problem is, they are also quite expensive ($20+ a piece…. I mean I like Cynthia Nixon but I’d rather pay less for a non celebrity to read me my book, thanks). Running with others is another great idea, but not always possible. Then there is my brain, and while we all know that I am just so highly entertaining, sometimes I’m running to escape my brain, not tune into it. Unfortunately, running entertainment is fairly limited, as its not really possible to carry much. I suppose I could watch TV, but that would mean I’d have to run on a treadmill, and I LOATHE (not hate, loathe) treadmills.

A few weeks ago, a fellow runner posted a facebook status that read something like this:

Just completed a 7.72 km run playing Zombies, Run!: collected 17 supplies, outran 3 zombie mobs

Intrigued, I inquired about said strange facebook status, and was told that this was a game as I expected. BUT, you could only play it WHILE running.

I have to admit that the price ($7.99) held me off on the purchase for a bit, even after said friend blogged about the game himself.

Finally I decided I was being silly and just bought the thing. How could something called Zombies, run! not be cool?

The game itself it quite simple, really. (And if you haven’t guessed, is an Iphone app – I am not sure if it is made on Android apps or not). You slide to run – you start the mission, and you run. The GPS keeps track of your distance and pace, so all you have to worry about is running. The story is played directly to you through your headphones, and during the game it will play you music from your ITunes if you choose. I have to say that the story line and characters are a bit cheesy, but luckily none of the characters speak long enough to cause an annoyance.

Basically, you’re in a plane full of supplies – I can’t remember where you are headed. You’re hit and crash and spend the first part of the mission running towards safety in Abel Township – and away from zombies. As you go, you pick up supplies. If you choose to allow “zombie chases” during your run, you’ll hear a voice telling you “zombies detected”, and even hear grunting and growling through your headphones. Your job is to speed up to evade the zombies.  It’s forced interval training, and thoroughly entertaining. I stupidly caught myself checking behind me to see if anything was chasing me the first time.

I had planned on a 5 mile run and was slightly disappointed when I realized the mission was over after about 3. However, the game still runs, playing you your music through “zombie radio”. You still pick up supplies and you can still be chased. After I finished I checked the settings and realized you can make missions 30 min or 1 hour. It could be a slight annoyance if you’re trying for more than 6 miles, because you’re either basically just going to listen to your music when your done or you’re going to have to stop to end the mission and re-start another one. Annoying if you’re trying to tract time, but the game saves your info, so not too difficult to figure out. As you run more, you collect more stuff and unlock more missions. Can’t beat that.

Moral of the story?

If you like to run, own an I-phone (or ipod touch I would imagine), have a sense of humor and a spare $8, buy it.

Zombies detected

(this is not any kind of paid endorsement – I’m not cool enough to get asked to do things like that)

One Hundred

(Sorry for my absence recently – life has been BUSY…..more on that in another post, which will hopefully make an appearance in less than a week)

I started this blog a little over 7 months ago. Of course I’d hoped the infertility journey would be over by post 100.

It isn’t.

But it’s been a crazy journey so far.

We started out with zero sperm. Today we have 36 million.

I finished my second marathon.

I cleaned snow off of my car with a spatula.

We made plans, changed them , and then changed them AGAIN.

I wrote an Ode to several different silly things.

I learned a great deal, was reminded that I am stronger than I think, and have started to truely understand that infertility is a marathon – as much as I wanted it to (and still wish it would) be more like a 5k.

I’ve had nearly 10,000 page views which takes me by surprise, even though I think many of them were thanks to strange searches such as c.um shoot a.nus ( I guess even those interested in the stranger side of life may want to read what I have to say….). I’ve always liked to think I’m a decent writer, but it means something totally different to have someone say they enjoy what I write.

All in all, the last 7 months and 100 posts have had many ups and downs. Just today I had a conversation with my friends dad about hard times, and how when you are going through it, it is so difficult to see the positives. But nine times out of ten, when it’s over, you find yourself thinking “that wasn’t so bad after all”.

I’m still ready for this infertility journey to be over, but don’t regret any of what has happened so far.

Here’s to another 100 posts, which will hopefully soon start me towards another finish line: motherhood.

In the meantime, I still have plenty of sarcasm to share.

An Ode to (Silly) Irrational Fears

I’ve noticed a few ridiculous neuroses lately:

1. A few weeks ago after my last 10k, I wrote about that fact that I learned of my own poor running form. At the advice of the nice guy selling shoes (though perhaps he just wanted me to buy new shoes) I googled running form and found this New Balance Website on Good Form Running.

Basically there are four steps involved: posture, cadence, midfoot, and lean. After studying the videos, I decided to try my hand at this new fangled running form, and found that the mid foot wasn’t as difficult as I feared, but did take a good bit of concentration. I’ve also been reading Born To Run, which, in short, says that all humans were born to run (hence the title) and that the invention of super cushioned, pronation controlled shoes has actually INCREASED injuries rather than decrease them. It also advocates for barefoot running, or at the very least, a shoe with very little cushioning. (read the book runners, seriously).

Anyway, the interesting thing about this is that it turns out most runners are doing it wrong and striking on the heel (which, according to the book, is mostly due to the shoe – because if you run barefoot you automatically are forced to use better form in order to protect your feet and use the most padded part), but suddenly I’m finding myself all self conscious about my running style, peeking over my shoulder periodically while on the treadmill at the gym, wondering who  might be staring at me and wondering what the heck I am doing. Perhaps because it partially feels awkward (old habits die hard), but mostly because I feel like I look funny. It’s as if I need a running disguise.

You can’t see me

Clearly I sometimes care too much about what other people think. However, I’m still working on the mid foot strike.

2. Bryan went on one of the more recent trips to the grocery store by himself, and I had asked him to pick up some hair spray. He, unknowingly (though he does pay attention because he did get me the right brand) grabbed the “flexible hold” hairspray, which to me reads: fluffy hair. However, because I don’t want to waste it, I’ve been using it and have had this immense fear of fluffy hair.

In case you don’t know, I have insanely curly hair. It has a tendency, when untamed, to become quite frizzy. Mousse and hairspray are my staple items, neither of which I could live without without an impending panic attack. Those two things, plus chapstick, would send me on a run to a 24 hour drugstore if discovered missing.  If I don’t spray enough hair spray into my hair when the day starts, I spend all day fearing fluff head:

this is actually a tame version

If too fluffly, I’ll refuse to leave my house without fixing it first, so that I might encounter

3. The ball.

I’ve played softball on and off for 20 years. (ugh I sound old). And you know what? I’m afraid of the ball.

Which is why I play outfield or first base, because very few ground balls get hit to first, and outfield balls usually slow down after hitting the grass. For whatever reason (because its never actually happened to me) I have this fear that its going to hit some rock, bounce up and smack me in the chin.

I dunno why the chin.

And yes, I continue to still play softball. I just try to stay out of the war zones.

And sometimes have a glass of wine first.

It’s kinda ridiculous.

 My heart beats a thousand times

I forgot my hairspray

And that means a run to the store

Or I won’t go out today

I could go for a run except

I’ve begun to change my stride

And I think you might be staring at me

At the treadmill by my side

I put myself in the outfield

Avoiding the “fear of the ball” curse

My stupid fears will make me nuts

Unless I shoot them first

Another Marathon, Metaphorically

I’ve finished two marathons.

It still feels weird to say that out loud. That, twice, I’ve trained, run 26.2 miles, and crossed the finish line. A feat I once related only to “crazy people” (well, that’s still appropriate) and people who run way too much (oddly now also appropriate).

When I started this blog, it began as a week by week training log for my second marathon, as I was preparing to do it mostly alone. A journey to the finish line. It also began as a place to log my fertility journey, as I was starting to feel more and more alone. Another journey to the finish line.

Infertility is a marathon.

At the start of the race, the excitement is palpable. We have all trained for this. We got up at the chirp of the alarm (and in my case, after several smacks of the snooze button) and regardless of the weather, regardless of mood, regardless of (most) illness, we ran. We ran 12, 16, 20 miles on a Saturday for no reason other than this day, this opportunity to run this race, cross this finish line, accept this medal, and feel this incredible accomplishment.  We skipped movies and drinks and went to bed early. Months of runs, hundreds of miles. We are ready.

Adrenaline begins pumping right from the beginning, the first few miles a breeze. A thousand or more people in your exact situation are running with you, some a bit faster, some a bit slower, but it doesn’t matter. You’re all in this together. Even if you lose the people you started with, there are still plenty around to match pace with, plenty of energy left to get yourself there.

Discomfort begins to set in as the miles add up. The number of people begin to thin. You begin to realize just how far 26 miles is. You start to wonder what you got yourself into, and start the ipod search for your most motivating songs on your playlist. If you didn’t know you could run 20+ miles already, you might consider dropping out. But ultimately the vision of the finish line, the medal, the feeling of victory keep you going. Somehow, something pops up at just the right time that keeps you from declaring defeat – a random cheer from a stranger, a particular song, knowing who is waiting for you at the finish line.

Pain sets in around mile 20. The end feels so close yet so far away. Your body starts to scream at you. The group of a thousand you started with has dwindled down to 3 or 4. The slight envy you once felt for the faster runners has turned into full out jealousy. You know you’ve trained harder than most of them. Seriously? How are you all finishing before me? You begin to feel every step, every pound of the pavement. Any change in terrain is physically difficult to recover from. Curse words are becoming more regular.  None of the three hundred Ipod songs are gonna do it, and even taking in half a Gu (an energy gel for distance runners) every mile doesn’t seem to be doing a darn thing. You hurt, you’re tired. You’ve gotta be the only one hurting this much. The finish line, though only a few miles away, feels like it’s never going to appear. The warnings that the true test is after mile 20 suddenly make sense.

Somehow, though, through combination of a force of will, stubbornness, training, and the few out of the group that stuck with you, you cross mile 26. And suddenly, though there are only a few runners left in the immediate vicinity, the crowd gets larger. You suddenly forget how sore you are because you can SEE the finish line. Somehow, you muster the energy to finish strong,  because suddenly you hear your cheering section, the crowd clapping, the announcer calling your name.  Somehow, you finished, and you feel incredible.

Also, you still hurt.  But despite it, you kept running.

When I first stepped foot onto the pavement my first run, (which was like, halfway around the block before I couldn’t breathe anymore) – I never imagined myself running a marathon. In fact, even after my first half marathon several years later I thought to myself “who wants to essentially do this twice? No thank you!”

When I first imagined myself with a family, in my house with my white picket fence (though I’d really prefer a privacy fence at this point in my life), I never imagined it would be a problem. I didn’t even know what infertility was.

I’m still waiting to cross the finish line.

In retrospect, I survived marathon training one run at a time, one week at a time, one long run at a time. I survived the race, particularly at the end, one mile at a time. It still hurt, in fact, it hurt quite a bit. At the end my calves were so sore I literally hobbled to the car.

But I’d do it all over again. I’ll remember that day and who was with me for the rest of my life. All of the pain and exhaustion was absolutely, positively 100% worth it.

One day at a time, one mile at a time, I await the day I can say that again.

This post was created as part of The Analogy Project, started in order to help others better understand the infertility experience.

On Heeling

Yes, I spelled that right.

I apparently tend to use “a lot” incorrectly, but that is the correct version of heeling/healing I was going for.

Just for all you grammar crazies out there.

Anyway, Yesterday was the Flowertown Festival 5k/10k race. I’ve run this one 4 or 5 times, and sadly still have no idea what the money goes for (good going, me). The name comes from the fact that the city I live in is nicknamed “The Flowertown in the Pines” – particularly ( I think ) because of all the pretty azaelas that bloom in the springtime. Man I really need to read up on my info before I blog about it.

Thanks to early Springtime allergies,I woke up a kazillion (may or may not be an exaggeration) times the night before because my nose was either stuffed up or turned into Faucet Nose, so I went to bed contemplating skipping it altogether. But, because I had already paid for it and was hoping the exercise would clear my sinuses a bit, I went anyway. (Who am I kidding? The only time I missed a race or a run, sick or not, was when I was coughing so much it made my abs hurt)

I was alone for this one and so didn’t really get to take many pictures. I didn’t feel like carrying the phone for 6 miles. In the end, I’m really glad I went, because I’m gonna have to hang my racing shoes up for a bit after this. With an IVF in the near future, its getting too expensive. And my more nonchalant, not-so-competitive attitude helped too, because I was able to enjoy the race more vs. worrying about how fast I was going.

Plus, after the race I got a ticket for free chick-fil a. And a free doughnut. And coffee.

Free doughnut? yes please!

I meant to look happier in that picture, but the sun was in my eyes…..and I kinda stink at taking pictures of myself. Plus I felt odd asking a complete stranger to take a picture of me holding a doughnut in one hand while giving a thumps up with the other. I don’t mind humiliating myself in front of my friends, but I do have SOME dignity. But I digress.

Running has been a big healing thing for me through infertillity. And I’ve found over the last few weeks that racing does, too. It’s nice to feel a sense of accomplishment when you’re facing something stressful. At least it makes me feel like I have something to look forward to while I’m waiting. My brain is clearest when running. I can think things through. And pushing my body in races makes it impossible to worry about babies, at least for the duration of the race. I was sad while picking up my packet and leafing through upcoming races that I was going to have to forego registering for one in a couple weeks, wondering if I should pick up another hobby, like knitting. (not sarcastic….people knit some cool stuff)

I actually ended up finishing faster than I had expected at 47 minutes 41 seconds, and excitedly posted about my new personal record, until I went to add the time to my race page here and realized I had forgotten I ran it faster in 2009. Oh well, I still got a medal.

After the race I stood and talked one of the guys at the booths selling shoes, who informed me that I am apparently running incorrectly. As someone who didn’t really know you could run incorrectly, this came as kind of a shock to me. I knew I probably needed a new brand of shoe as the outsides are completely worn down, but apparently the heel toe running method is no longer considered the way to go. You’re actually supposed to hit the front of your foot first, and then the heal. This new method will supposedly be easier on my joints….and make me faster. hmmm

Now, I’m a little more excited. Although I’m still a bit sad to not race and cut down on the distance, I have a new goal – learn to run the better way. I’m told it takes a lot of conscious effort, which could be better for both my healing and my heels. Meaning I can take the lower milage and concentrate on how to do it right, so that when I DO race again, I’ll be even faster. And maybe I can come close to the female winner of the race, who at 37 finished in an astounding 39 minutes and some change.

Dang.

And I leave you with one of the more attractive moments of my life, a finish line picture:

Isn’t it beautiful?

Cupcake run? Yes Please

First, my apologies for being out of the blog loop lately. Life was really hectic early this week and my parents are here for a visit. Then we found out some potential bad news about our financial situation and this IVF we have planned, so I’ve been in a funk (more on that later) and had a bit of writers block.

However, I remain thankful for one of the things that keep me sane (and that I mention all the time): running. I found a 5k near my house and when I read the name “CF Cupcake 5k run/walk”, I was sold. Any race involving a cupcake I will happily participate in. It was also raising money to find a cure for cystic fibrosis, however I’ll admit that I was really excited about the cupcake and didn’t get the “CF” reference until later. (yes yes, shame on me)

There were cupcakes, though, and they looked yummy.

This race was held at a local elementary school; the one where the child with Cystic Fibrosis attended. Since my parents were in town, my dad decided to participate in the “walk” portion.

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The race itself was pretty nice. We ran out the school driveway, through a couple neighborhoods and back, with each mile marker cutely marked with a cupcake with a mile number on it.(If they were real, I would have eaten them)

Although I didn’t PR this race either, I was happily the 2nd female to finish, and therefore the second female to receive my cupcake ticket.

YES, cupcake!

After finishing I walked back to find my dad and walked him in the rest of the way

I was glad that he decided to walk it, because it was cool to be able to participate with him.

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As an added bonus, lunch was provided…..at 10:30am. But hey, its free, so I’ll eat it.

The best part?

  Best trophy EVER

22:35, a walk with my dad and a kick @$$ trophy – WIN

Gift of Life 5k and a Big Decision

This race has become one of my favorites. I happened upon it one year while training with a group for a 10k and have done it each year since then (for a total of 3 years so far). It supports a really great cause, has kick butt shirts (I’m a huge fan of any race that gives away long sleeved shirts), good food at the end and cool prizes if you happen to win something.

What it supports, though, is really the coolest part: organ and tissue donation. Many of the participants are those who have had an organ donated to them.

The lady to the right (and many others) participated in the run in dedication to a donor.  Hers says: my donors who gave me sight. My donors loving families.

Hers was one of many. Some were fortunate enough to be living donors, but most had suffered a tragedy, lost their lives, and donated their organs to someone who needed them.

The race itself has been hosted at James Island County Park for the last several years. Before we took off, a sabre line stood a woman who beautifully sang the National Anthem.

Before and after crowds of people gathered around to mingle and play cornhole.

It was not my finest race. I started out strong, but unfortunately mother nature decided it was time to interfere and bombarded me with cramps and a backache halfway through. At mile two I was at 14:37 but had a really slow third mile and my final time was 23:05. All things considered, though, and no thanks to my body and this particular time of the month, I did ok

Finish line?  Yes please!

After the race, a bagel and a change of clothes (thank goodness for the jeans I had in my car), they began the ceremony. Normally I’m more annoyed by this because I’m competitive and just want to know if  I won one of those nice medal over there. Because usually its just thanks everyone for coming blah de blah de blah. At this race though, two sets of families come up and tell their stories. One shared their experience donating the organs of their lost loved one and the other their experience of receiving an organ from someone else.

It was very touching.

And yes, I won a medal And a 20$ gift certificate to Dicks Sporting Goods! Woot!

I definitely plan to keep running that race in the future. How can you not?

Now, for those of you who I just KNOW have been waiting with bated breath regarding my IVF decision (HA):

My cycle started this morning, right on time, with quite a vengence. 1000mg of ibproufen in 6 hours and 2 hours under a heating pad was still rendering me in pain….and crabby. Bryan gave me a muscle relaxer which basically put me to sleep for 2 more hours and then I left go play a softball scrimmage all loopy.

That tidbit was more for amusement purposes than anything else.

I’ve decided to wait. Instead of starting the cycle now with a transfer in mid-April, we are going to start the cycle around the end of April with a transfer in mid-June. Miracle endo gets two cycles to prove his miracle drug worthy, but probably regardless of sperm count at that time no natural pregnancy = we are doing IVF. It’s two cycles. I’ll keep busy, run a few short races, play a season of softball and demand a weekend away using the timeshare. That and save money.

Although I want this more than anything, preferably YESTERDAY, I finally succumbed to the logic that waiting another couple of months isn’t going to prove to be detrimental, and keeping in mind that we will still go through with it in April should help keep my emotions at bay when my period inevitably shows up.

I am keeping my faith that this two month wait will be worth it. Remind me of that when, in two days (or two hours) I wonder what the hell I was thinking.

I Run as Fast as a……(5k)

A couple of days ago I was working on figurative language with one of my kiddos. In trying to explain the concept, I gave him an example to fill in the blank, to see if he understood.

I run as fast as a ……”barefooted jackrabbit running through the desert!”

Maybe he DOES get it.

I ran my first post marathon race today – the first annual Ashley Ridge Foxtrot 5k, chosen mostly because of its’ proximity to my house. I talked running buddy Lynnsey into running this one with me.

we are awesome

I was more excited to learn that not only did I get a card for a free chick fil a chicken sandwich in my race packet, but that we also got a free chicken biscuit after the race. *drool*AND, the chick fil a cow was there. (yes, I love chick fil a)

The race itself was ok. It was three laps around the high school, part of it off road and I found it a bit hard to keep my footing. For the first race it was decently organized, and while I wasn’t super thrilled with the lap idea, the chicken biscuit made it totally worth it.

this is why we run

And of course, we had to get a picture with the cow

I am a cool kid

I am a cool kid too

We are in our late twenties going on ten.

The winner of the race was TWELVE, finishing in 18 minutes and 29 seconds.

I think he’s the jackrabbit.

I’m not complaining though. I haven’t hit my goal mark yet, but I was the third female to finish, won first in my age group, and PR’d at 22:11ish. Plus I won a free burrito at Moe’s during the raffle.

Run+friend+chickfila+PR+medal+future free Moe’s burrito + WIN.

I may not be a jackrabbit, but I get a medal!

Up next: Gift of Life 5k on February 25

A Second Date with Bob

Bob and I, perhaps unfortunately, are going to become good friends.

The first time I met Bob, it was a year go, at our first visit to the fertility clinic. Feeling a little bitter,and slightly overwhelmed, I didn’t really welcome Bob’s quick advances on our first date, and so didn’t even bother to learn his name.  I mean, I’m not THAT easy.

Today I went in for a re-draw of my Day 3 labs, to check certain hormone levels on the 3rd day of my cycle. Apparently, I also needed another baseline ultrasound.

Enter Bob, the ultrasound wand.

While seated on the exam table, naked from the waist down, I waited for the nurse to perform the ultrasound. For those who are unfamiliar, I’m not referring to the kind of ultrasound you see on tv that goes over the stomach, I’m talking about the one that has a face to face with my girly parts. (internal ultrasound)People always talk about the dil.do cam, and while I vaguely recalled chuckling to Bryan a year ago that it did, in fact, really closely resemble one, I sat with Bob today, and decided I needed to make peace with his advances on our first date, because today was going to be the second of many.

The nurse entered, and out of slight nervousness I uttered “has anyone told you that thing looks like a dil.do?” (because I apparently thought I was the first person to ask such a witty question). She chuckled anyway and told me “yeah, we call him Bob”.

I should have gotten a picture with Bob.

He still didn’t even bother to introduce himself before making his advance*. Men. AND charged me a horribly high fee for his intrusion. Not even a cheap date.

Till we meet again, Bob. Next time, at least kiss me first………on second thought, nevermind.

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*Apparently, everything looks ok. No activity on the ovaries, since its so early in the cycle. 15 follicles on one and 12 on the other. Uterus apparently looks good. No cysts.  At least Bob was able to tell me something productive. Not much else is going to be done until my next cycle. I’ve been taking the Metformin for a week no with no issues thus far. We’re still mulling over the financial aspect and I’m going to run in a couple 5 k’s in the mean time. One on Saturday!

 

 

Life After the Marathon

My first week in 18 weeks with no scheduled runs (well, except the one I scheduled with a friend, for fun) and I was excited about the idea of being able to sleep in this Saturday morning.

Naturally, I woke up on my own at 6:30am.

Interestingly, many marathon runners talk about “Post Marathon Blues”. I found quite a few articles and also quite a few blogs on the topic. When you follow a running plan for 4+ months, and suddenly it isn’t there, it’ s weird. When your life is almost literally scheduled around training and suddenly its gone, it’s weird. Almost empty, like something is missing. Running has an addictive quality to it. Distance running especially, as you can experience the “runners high” more than once during a long run (or none at all during a particularly crappy one, it is a bit of a gamble). Personally, I think signing up for a couple 5k’s in the next few weeks and changing focus to having a family helps, but its totally legit……and I admit I do feel a little…..unorganized. I found myself just a mere few days later, researching half marathons. I was seriously considering the Diva Half Marathon in Myrtle Beach….because any half marathon involving a tiara, roses and a boa would totally rule (yes, I said it would rule), until I realized that not only is it the same weekend as my sisters college graduation, but that I will hopefully be newly pregnant from our IVF, and therefore not going to happen. I’m supposed to be taking a break from long runs. I think I have an addiction.

Hi, my name is Theresa, and I am a run-aholic.

Maybe I can get a rollerbladers high? Or a yogi-high? Or perhaps a bikers-high?

And most importantly, what am I going to blog about on Saturdays?

The phenomenon seems to happen because you spend months planning and following a schedule with an ultimate goal in mind: to finish a marathon, to take a vacation, to buy a house, but get so wrapped up in the planning of the actual event that you forget to plan for afterwards. And for those of you who are balking at the thought of all this planning, it must be a runner thing. Or a Type A personality thing. Take your pick.

Admittedly, I have some mixed emotions. It was a bit sad to reset the 4:10 time on my watch.  There is a definite strange emptiness to not having a planned run 4 days a week at a certain distance or a goal, but I’m looking forward to strapping on my rollerblades periodically instead of my running shoes. Or take a yoga class, join a gym again and dance awkwardly at Zumba, or hop on my lovely pink and purple bike on Saturday morning.

I’ll still be running though. I have a couple small races in mind until we get knee deep in IVF. It’s in my blood. And I’m pretty sure that when I do have a child, he or she is going to come running out of the womb and into my jogging stroller. While I do miss the training a little, I’m looking forward to what’s next.

Plus some rollerblading.

(And no, its not just for the 80′s anymore)

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*For those participating in ICLW with Blogger and Blogspot blogs – I am having issues leaving comments. It simply won’t let me. If you have commented on my blog, most likely I have attempted to comment back without success. Anyone else having this issue??

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