The Alter G Alters Lives

So, I've been injured. I haven't blogged about it yet because I didn't want to make a "thing" out of it, but about a week and a half ago I got sharp pains in my shins and calves during this god awful 15K race in Central Park. It was an early race (8am) and it was a really cold day, so at first I figured I was just tight from that. Both shins, both calves, and my left piriformis were in so much pain, and it only got worse over the course of the 15K. I was running easy during the race, and afterward walking was pretty painful, so I knew something was wrong.

In the PT world they call it "post-tib" - it's an issue with my posterior tibial muscle and tendon. It's inflamed and feels like the back of my shin bone is stabbed when I step down on the right side. Less than ideal, to say the least. My PT is stretching me, massaging me (which hurts like HELL), gave me exercises to do, and is doing stim and ice with each visit, which appears to be helping. I rested for 4 days straight (which is hell for someone training for a marathon...) and I'd planned to try an easy run Sunday and a long run Monday, but then it came: snowmageddon 2010. I have to say, this city has done a really crappy job of managing the snow - my neighborhood STILL isn't plowed, and it's been more than 48 hours since it stopped. Weak sauce, NYC.

The Alter G

I have been in contact with coach Michael Conlon to see what I should do, since running outside wasn't an option, and he said he'd let me run on the Alter G. What's the Alter G? Well at this point I'm calling it a goddamn miracle worker, but that's not technically what it is. It's a treadmill that uses differential air pressure to lift part of your body weight as you run. You put on these ridiculous looking shorts that zip into the machine while you're in them, and then the air pressure removes whatever portion of your weight you want it to. I ran at 80% of my body weight and it was heaven - the pain was at about a 3 or 4 to start and went down to a 2 or 1 within a few minutes. About half way through there was no pain at all. I got to run for about 75 minutes at 9:30 pace, and felt so so great. Of course, I now want to lose 20% of my bodyweight and run like that all the time!

Walking around after I got off the Alter G, there was actually still no pain, and I woke up this morning feeling better. I think a combo of rehabbing on that bad boy, doing my PT exercises, getting the massage/stretching, getting the stim, and icing, I just might be OK for race day.

This season has been chock freaking FULL of injuries. My darling Steph, who I did that mud run with, found out last week she has stress fractures, is now in a boot, and can't run for at least 6 weeks. No Disney marathon for her. Layla made it only 5 miles last week during her final long run before her IT bands and hips shat out on her. She's most likely deferring to NYC marathon this fall. And the heartbreaker: Kate Latti, who started our San Diego season but had to drop due to a knee injury, now has a hip stress fracture and can't run for 12 weeks. No Phoenix marathon for her. Two seasons in a row, two bad injuries, no marathons run. Several others were scheduled to do the full but have had to drop back to the half (Rachel Bliner, Lauren Sanders, etc), and so I'm just hoping to make it to that starting line as healthy as humanly possible.

WE DID IT!!!!

Holy crap, y'all, we have officially met my fundraising goal for this season!!!! To everyone who donated, I want to say THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!! And then I want to say it again!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! My extra special thanks to Peter Dick, Gail Davis, Kelly Reiter, Sandy Doyle, and my very own Grandma (Marjory Dick) for putting me over the top.

You know, when you first embark on something like this, you never really know what to expect. You hope you can count on your friends, family, and co-workers, but it's not that straightforward. People may be non-responsive, they may be forgetful, they may not believe in donating money, they may support other charities, or hell, they may be just plain broke. I am beyond fortunate to have supportive, loving, engaged, and not-completely-broke people in my life who are willing to contribute to something that I am so passionate about - some for the second time this year. When I say I couldn't do this without you, I sincerely mean it. Without your donations, the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society wouldn't exist, there would be no Team in Training, and I would never have had this opportunity to support, and ultimately pay tribute to, my hero: my Grandpa.

Last season I raised $4,151, and this season I'm up to $2,323. In addition to cutting-edge research, have a look at some examples of where that $6,474 goes:

• Registers 129 people to become bone marrow donors
• Covers 260 patients' chemo drug prescription co-pays
• Trains 540 peer volunteers who provide emotional support to newly diagnosed cancer patients
• Provides 13 leukemia patients with patient aid for an entire year




LLS Spending Breakdown

 

One of the most well known contributions by LLS-funded research is Gleevec, which is a drug used to treat CML (chronic mylogenous leukemia). CML is distinguished by a presence of the "Philadelphia Chromosome". A whopping 82% of CML patients achieve a full cytogenetic response when taking Gleevec, meaning there are NO remaining cells that have the Philadelphia chromosome - which is the goal of the therapy. It came out about 8 years ago, and now it's a staple in most CML treatment plans.

I hope you all realize that your money may be funding the next big break through, the next big treatment, or even the actual cure. I also hope you all know what you mean to me. I have never felt so loved and so supported; equally as important, I have reinvigorated faith in the ability of a small group of people to have a big impact, and for people to show up when I really need them to. You are all so wonderful, and I am simply lucky to be in each of your orbits.

Action, Charity, Effort, Love

After spending this week in London, I got back to NY late last night, and was dreading the early wake up call this morning for GTS. I am running a 15K tomorrow (plus a run before that to make sure I get enough mileage in), so I only had to do 5 miles today - knowing that it would be a much less painful day helped get me out of bed and off to practice.

The other thing that helped was that I'd planned to run today's miles for Brian Schultz. If you've been following my blog, you know that Brian is the cousin of one of my San Diego TNT teammates, Sarah Stafford. Sadly, Brian succumbed to sarcoma on December 11th, just 2 days after his 33rd birthday. My heart goes out to his family, especially his wife and baby daughter - I hope they're taking solace in the fact that he's no longer in pain, and finding some way to get through this so close to the holidays.

So today I showed up to GTS for Grandpa and for Brian. Before we ran, Erin MacBeth, one of the TNT coordinators, told us that not one, but TWO of our TNTers had been found as bone marrow matches as a result of a bone marrow donor registration drive that we all attended back in October. That's two families whose prayers may have been answered, just in time for Christmas. Powerful stuff.

I ran my miles and came back to get my bag, and someone had attached a note of thanks on it. It said:

If that little voice in your head starts telling you "this is too hard," please remember the words of our own Peter Macaluso, a past TNT participant who lost his battle with leukemia on September 16, 2004.

"...there may come a time where you wonder: is what I am doing making a difference? When you're on your last miles of a marathon, or of a hundred mile cycling course, or trying to make it the last yards to shore in a tri... and you wonder: am I making a difference? Is it worth it? Come celebrate with me, 'cause the answer is a resounding YES!! I have no choice, but you do, all of you. And you've chosen action over complacency, charity over selfishness, effort over easiness, a life of love over a life of indifference."

I will always choose action, charity, effort, and love - for Peter, and most importantly, for Grandpa.

The Triple Bypass for Grandpa

Today was the infamous Triple Bypass run. For those of you unfamiliar, you run the Brooklyn bridge, the Manhattan bridge, and the Williamsburg bridge (and then of course you have to run BACK across the Williamsburg bridge...) as part of a 3 hour run. It's bananas. Last season I had a particularly hard run that day. I don't know what it was exactly, but it didn't feel good at all. Today felt 97 kinds of amazing.

We started off at Finish Line (Michael Conlon's physical therapy outfit) so we were warm and sheltered from any NY winter elements. Coach Christie got us started with her mission moment, which was first about her Dad, who is currently hanging onto remission, and then about her great friend Josie who passed away on Christmas eve of last year. Incredibly inspiring, and she speaks so beautifully. Then, it was my turn.

That's right - I decided to do my mission moment today. Last season, as you may recall, it took me all the way until the day before the race to get it out - but this season, as I'm the mission captain, I wanted to tell my story in front of the entire team, in an environment where it would hopefully give them some inspiration or motivation for a particularly tough run.

I once again cried throughout the entire thing like a huge asshole, but it's important to me that the team members know how special Grandpa is to me, and how much inspiration he has given me, and how special TNT is to me as a channel of paying tribute to my hero. I got through my story, and then during the run people actually used the story to keep them going. Lauren and Sarah yelled out "Miles for Grandpa!!!" at the top of one of the bridges, and then one of my mentees Eunice was having a tough time around mile 14, and she said "I want you to know that all I'm thinking about right now is your grandfather." That's what Grandpa does... he unifies everyone, he inspires and motivates, he reminds you to always believe, to keep going, and to never give up. I am so proud to be his granddaughter.

While he's not physically present on this spiritual plane any more, today he was there with every single one of us. And like a triple bypass lifts stress off the heart, today's triple bypass lifted my spirit. It felt amazing, for mind, body, and soul.

May She Rest

In a sad irony, after writing about Elizabeth Edwards yesterday, I came home tonight to pull up the news and see that she had passed away earlier today. May she rest peacefully, and may she be remembered for her courage, grace, and indomitable spirit.

One Hell of a Run, One Hell of a Cause

This Saturday was frigging amazing. Finally, a run where I felt strong, light on my feet, and most importantly, lighthearted. My love Lauren Sanders got us started with her mission moment about her wonderful friend Derrick, who fought one hell of a cancer battle - one that she continues to fight, as he has left this world. Derrick died 2 years ago today at the age of 23. Yes, t-w-e-n-t-y-t-h-r-e-e. Heartbreaking.

I think it really reminded me why we're out there. Lauren is on her 3rd season with TNT and she is a very strong runner. But beyond that, she gets what it's really all about - and I needed to be reminded. Her energy and positivity is infectious and I just think she's 47 kinds of fabulous, and I am so grateful that she had the courage to get up there and share her story. Derrick sounds like he was almost TOO awesome, and clearly his light shines on in Lauren. To read more about Derrick's story, go here: http://www.djdully.blogspot.com/

It's amazing what your body will do when your heart is full. I took my 10:30 pace group out and we had the most fun, amazing run down and up the west side highway. We were laughing, we were talking, we weren't complaining, and we were kicking some ASS. We did about 11 miles as a group, and then for the last 5 we split up and I ran them with Steph in the park. They were tough, especially with the hills, but I felt like a frigging superstar at the end.

Then today I went to yoga, which was surprisingly delightful. I'm starting to suck a little less at downward dog (it's been my nemesis for years) and we hit some really spicy stretches that my legs desperately needed. I came home, made myself a healthy fajita, and opened up my computer to read the news from today. I saw that Elizabeth Edwards, a pillar of strength and grace, has stopped responding to treatment. The article said her cancer metastasized to her liver and then there is that horrible phrase: there's nothing more they can do. The prognosis, they say, is weeks, rather than months, and that's a phrase I know all too well. I also know it could be closer to days - you never know what that goddamn disease is going to do.

I think she has been an inspiration in many ways - how she handled her disease, how she handled her douche of a husband (if a guy treated me like that and then had the wherewithal to treat his mistress like shit too, I'd take a dull butter knife to the jugular), and now how she is handling her limited time remaining. She left a message via her Facebook page:

"You all know that I have been sustained throughout my life by three saving graces – my family, my friends, and a faith in the power of resilience and hope. These graces have carried me through difficult times and they have brought more joy to the good times than I ever could have imagined. The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered. We know that. And, yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human.

"But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful. It isn't possible to put into words the love and gratitude I feel to everyone who has and continues to support and inspire me every day. To you I simply say: you know."

We should all be so lucky to have half the grace she has. And we should all heed her words - living with hope, trying to have a positive impact in the world, that's what makes life all the more worthwhile.

I'm proud to be part of an organization that tries to have a positive impact every single day. I hope you're proud for donating to one - and if you haven't already, it's not too late to make a positive impact yourself.

The F*cking 5K

Fair warning: I have a BAD attitude today. And when I say bad, I mean B-A-D. Tonight we had to run the Peter Niessen 5K again. Peter is one of our fabulous TNT coaches, and each season Michael Conlon names this god awful 5K after one of the coaches. I have to say up front I mean no offense or disrespect to Peter, it's not his fault we have to run the damn thing. I was pissed off all day that we had to do this race - I was dreading it and just getting more and more angry that I had to run it. In fact, I was pissed off last week, when Michael Conlon reminded us we had to run this today - so pissed off that I renamed it the Peter Niessen F*cking 5K.

What makes this 5K so awful? Let's start with the course. First mile: downhill. Awesome. Second mile: a series of long, rolling hills down the west side. Ew. Third mile (plus the .1): ends on the top of Cat Hill. Sadistic.

Then there is the fact that it's a race. The coaches always say "You're only racing against yourself." Ummm, bullshit. If that was the case, we'd all run this course on our own and report our times anonymously. We are racing against everyone, and it really sucks when you see people flying by you. It makes me want to trip them. I warned you, BAD ATTITUDE.

Then there is the unexpected: a frigging raccoon - yes, a RACCOON - crossed our path just before the 2nd mile marker (and by "marker" I mean Michael Conlon drew on the street with purple chalk). Are you kidding me?

All that said, tonight went better than I expected. I decided ahead of time to do a tempo pace and not try to go all out. Partly due to fear of failure, partly due to my bad attitude, and partly because I didn't want to go out too fast and blowup on the west side hills. I don't know whether to declare it a victory, but I will say it wasn't entirely a defeat this time. At this point, I'll take it.

As Laura and I were walking back to the subway and debriefing our 5K of doom, she mentioned a conversation she'd had with Layla about how hard this season has been. Layla said "You know what's harder than running a marathon? Running your 2nd marathon." That shit is profound. And insanely accurate. You know what to expect, you know it's going to suck, and it's kind of like what people say about tattoos and childbirth, how you forget how bad it hurts, so you go back for round 2. Now that we're deep into the season, we're being reminded of how bad it hurts, and we know just how miserable that last 6.2 is. It's really really really hard because it's physically demanding and mentally it's hard to stay positive - exhibit A, my current disposition - and my lovely Layla is right. This is hard as shit.

The Race of My Life

This past Sunday I officially became that asshole who cries at the finish line of a big race. I have no problem with people doing this at the end of a full marathon - if you DON'T cry at the finish, you're barely human - but given that this was my 3rd half marathon, and my 2nd in the last 2 months, this wasn't some sort of life changing moment. I'd run the distance before. Hell if we're going by the distance alone, I've run that distance at least a dozen times. But this race was different. I had the race of my life.

It started out god awful. The first mile I had this sharp, shooting pain in my stomach - it felt like someone was stabbing me with a knife over and over again. I legitly wasn't sure I'd be able to keep going like that for 13 miles, that's how bad the pain was. But, by some miracle of god, the pain went away after about 10 minutes and it stayed away the rest of the race. Because that first mile had been so crappy, I decided to screw the race plan, and just run the entire thing by feel.

The first 4 miles FLEW by, and then on this one stretch by mile 4.5 there were the funniest signs that someone had nailed to consecutive telephone polls. My favorite said "Remember, you PAID to do this!!"  I'm usually so damn focused when I race that I don't even notice the signs - these definitely made me laugh and I love that someone took the time to climb up a telephone pole and nail these posters. Classic.

We passed the 5 mile mark, and I got excited. My parents had driven all the way down to Philly to watch me run this race, and I knew they'd be cheering around mile 5.5. I came up Chestnut Street and there they were, mom cheering with my cheerleading pom poms from middle school and dad videotaping me on his phone! That was really awesome. They always came to my athletic stuff growing up, but competitive sports pretty much ended for me when I was 18. It was so great to have them out there cheering me on!

And from then on I cruised through the race. I gave a high 5 to who I can only assume was Benjamin Franklin, and smiled at the people cheering my name (our bibs had our names on them - nice touch, Philly half organizers!). Then, I have to hand it to them, the Drexel kids were friggin awesome. The race was early (7am start time), and those frat boys were out on the sidewalk, blasting music and screaming for the runners. Some were handing out Keystone Light - I didn't drink that shit in college, I wouldn't drink it during a half marathon, but I LOVED the gesture! There were some gnarly hills over in that area, which were somewhat unexpected, so the boost was very much appreciated.

The finish line for this half was about 2 tenths of a mile further down the road than it was for the Philly half I ran in September. It was kind of funny because you come out under this overpass and that's where the previous finish line was. I was charging hard, thinking I had literally 5 seconds left of the race, and then was like "Oh shit, I have another 30 seconds left." So I stayed charging hard, but I lifted my head up and took in the amazing crowd. I don't think I've ever felt that good finishing a race. I crossed the finish line, hands in the air, and slapped my watch to stop the clock. I looked down at the time to see one hell of a PR - and that's when it happened. I started crying. Like a complete asshole.

Part of it was that I was proud of the PR, part of it was happiness that I'd just enjoyed a race for the first time ever, and part of it was relief that it was done - it was a fine moment of catharsis. I had been putting so much pressure on myself to do well, hit a certain time, stay competitive with my friends who were also running, make my coaches proud, do well in front of my parents, etc. Thank god for coach Jason - he put everything in perspective for me last week. Without his guidance, advice, and tough love, I don't think I would've performed as well as I did in Philly; and there's no way I would've enjoyed it as much.

I feel amazing. I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling as long as I live.

Miles for Brian

Tonight my friend Sarah, who did the San Diego season with me, posted a link with an update on her cousin, Brian, who was her inspiration for her TNT marathon experience. Brian was diagnosed a few years ago with Stage IV soft tissue sarcoma; the cancer progressed to his brain, and things are not looking good. For the full story, please read their blog update on Caring Bridge:  http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/brianmichaelschultz

It's heartbreaking. Brian has a matter of months at this point. He has a wife and baby daughter, and the reality of the situation is that he's likely going to have to leave them. Miracles do happen and no one should EVER give up hope, but it's equally important to accept the gravity of the situation and do what you can here and now to make sure whatever time he has is as wonderful as it can be; it's precious time, for certain. The blog talks about how the family is pursuing palliative care, which is such a great decision. I wish we had known a little bit more about some of the options for palliative care for Grandpa. We were fortunate that he wasn't in severe pain for long, but the benefits of palliative and hospice care are undeniable, and the sooner you begin it, the more comfortable the person will be for a longer period of time. There is a wonderful book called Final Journeys that is written by a hospice nurse named Maggie Callahan. She passes along amazing advice and lessons to families tending to a dying person. It's something I wish I'd read in June, though when I read it in August I did find some comfort. I hope this book makes it into the hands of Brian and his family, if for no other reason than to help them feel like they're not alone.

When Grandpa was diagnosed back in January, we were told he only had months. Grandpa said it was a time for tears and prayer. I think now is that time for Brian.

Miles for Brian tomorrow.

The wall of Grandpa's oncology floor at UMass Memorial in Worcester

Consecutive Hills of Death

Today we did the infamous GWB run (for those unfamiliar, the GWB is the George Washington Bridge). It's sort of a misnomer, since the bridge is only the first mile of the run, and then it's down into Palisades Park, NJ, for a crazy hilly run. During my San Diego season, this run was one of the highlights, no doubt. I met my running partner, Audrey, and we conquered the crap out of those hills, including the half mile almost-straight-vertical incline on the way back up to the bridge. We felt like we could move mountains.

Today, I did not feel like that. Today, I felt like shit. I knew it would be a tough run - as with our San Diego season, Michael announced that this would be the hilliest run we'd do all season. I'd been through those hills before, I knew what to expect: I knew there were some bad ones and some rolling ones and some that seemingly never end. It wasn't the hills themselves that made today a crap run. I can't explain it, but for some reason the entire second half of the run I felt really dizzy. My nutrition and hydration were dead on, I didn't go out last night, I slept fine, I ate a good breakfast - like I said, I can't explain it. Then when we finished I laid down and put my legs up (to get my legs higher than my heart) and I got absolutely freezing. The weird thing is, it was actually really warm today - sunny and mid 60s - so I had no reason to be that cold. At that point I guess my lips had turned blue, but not being able to see my own face, I didn't realize that was happening. I don't know why this happened. I changed in Michael's car into some dry clothes, which helped, and I had a little food shortly thereafter which I'm assuming helped too, but my lips stayed slightly blue for a couple hours and I was still pretty cold most of the day. Not ideal.

I feel fine now, so I think everything is okay. No one had a particularly great run today, due to the brutal elevation changes - Steph and Olya actually referred to them as the consecutive hills of death. Next weekend my long run will be the Philly half marathon, where there will be NO hills and it should be a GREAT run :)

Well That Sucked

Last night it was back to the hills - this time we were "cresting" the hills, which means you sprint up the hill and then maintain your effort level (constant breathing) as the road flattens out. I was grateful that we were working with a much less steep hill, as we used the hill at west 86th, but right off the bat I knew I wasn't going to have an awesome practice. My left leg has really been bothering me for a few weeks now. The pain in my thigh appears to keep rotating - sometimes it feels like the center of my quad, sometimes it feels like the VMO, sometimes it feels like the hip, sometimes it feels like the groin, and sometimes it's just impossible to pinpoint. My PT doesn't feel a tear and confirmed that it's likely just a sore muscle or charley horse of some kind, so I'm just trying to be patient and massage, stretch, and heat it, and hope it subsides.

Then there's the knee - the goddamn knee. The original problem with my knees had to do with the patella being horribly pulled to the outside and grinding against the cartilage. That pain is to the front and the outside of the knee. Oh how I wish the current pain were to the front and the outside... No, this pain is now in the back and center of the knee. It's right where the hamstring connects to the knee, so when you're running hills (aka blasting your hamstrings), the pain is amplified and the ligament is aggravated. Super frigging awesome. During repeat number 5 I asked Michael Conlon (who is also a PT) to look at it, and he said the ligament is likely inflamed. That means icing, motrin, rest, and stretching for a few days and we'll see if it improves. Fingers crossed, pretty pretty please!! I had to stop after the 5 repeats so as to not aggravate it any further, which was a bummer since I was supposed to do between 6 and 8, and I don't like failing. I'm hoping it's for the best and it'll let the knee repair or relax or just chill the F out. Sigh...

NYC Marathon Weekend

Whether you're a running enthusiast or not, the buzz that comes over a city during its marathon weekend is undeniable and extremely contagious. This weekend was no exception, as it was the NYC marathon weekend, meaning it's one of the most prestigious marathons in one of the world's most amazing cities, and I'm lucky enough to call it home.

The weekend kicked off with a hell of a long run on Saturday morning - my best so far this season. We ran an out and back up the west side highway, which you all know is my personal favorite place to run in the city, and we had such a great time! Legs were strong, lungs were strong, I'm loving the people in my pace group, and we were dead on as far as pacing. Can't ask for anything more than that!! Throw in a post-run ice bath and a Brooklyn brewery beer and I do believe I've found my groove for this season. OHH YEAH!!

Then Sunday it was on to spectating the NYC marathon. I headed down to Greenpoint to mile 12.5 to cheer at one of the official TNT cheer stations, which was awesome. There's an excitement in the air as you see the NYPD motorcycles come around the bend, and then the press van, and then finally the lead women runners! Those ladies are FAST, let me just tell you. They go flying by so fast and have the most amazing physiques, and you can't help but envy and admire them. Next up are the lead men, and it's the exact same rush (except I don't really envy a man's physique...). It makes you want to run if you aren't already a runner, and if you are already a runner it makes you want to get faster. A LOT faster.

The crowd of runners starts to thicken and we were all obsessively checking our phones to track our friends who were running, and then alternately obsessively scanning the crowd to see if we could spot anyone in TNT purple. I am stoked to say that I saw EVERY single person I was trying to spot!!! First up was Rory, who ran with Grandpa's initials on his back. He is amazingly fast and such an inspiration. Rory runs for his dad, who passed away from leukemia in 2002, and I was so grateful he shared his miles with me and my Grandpa. He is amazing. Then I saw Brett and coach Pam within a couple minutes of each other, coach Peter ran by and actually spotted ME first, Herb cruised past, and then coach Dari came running and stopped for some cheers and a hug!

The TNT station was 100% female, so a ton of the male runners were waving, winking, and blowing kisses at us, which was entertaining and hilarious. Ethan Zohn, who won Survivor a few years back and is actually a cancer survivor himself, pointed to us as he ran by, cheering "Go Team!". Stuff like that is pretty awesome. I was also getting a lot of love from the crowd for my sign, which can be viewed below :) A lot of people were running with charities, a lot of people were running for loved ones, and a lot of people were just running to run. Regardless of their reason, I was screaming my ass off for every single one of them. I have no voice left, but it was completely worth it! It was incredibly inspiring and made me really, really excited to run my race in January.

My sign for the NYC marathoners :)

Consistency is the Name of the Game. Apparently so is "Rachel"

Since we'd done two straight Wednesdays of hills, last night we returned to speedwork.This workout was half mile repeats, meaning you run as fast as you can for a half mile, then jog at a very slow pace back to the start - and then do it again 3 more times. The goal is to make your repeats consistent, within 5-10 seconds of the previous rep, getting slightly faster with each one. My usual problem with workouts like this is that I go out too fast and can't hold the speed, whether it's within each repeat (i.e. running the first quarter mile too fast and backing off the second quarter) or getting slower with successive repeats. Last night, however, I was almost dead on with how we're supposed to run these:

• Rep 1 - 4:08
• Rep 2 - 3:55
• Rep 3 - 3:58
• Rep 4 - 3:54

The Rachels, icing our injuries in New Paltz

I not only increased speed throughout the workout in terms of each rep, but I was able to really finish strong and actually increase my speed for the last minute or so EACH TIME! And you will notice that with the exception of the 13 second jump between repeat 1 and 2, we were damn consistent in timing, and to top it off, we ran the last repeat the fastest. So freaking fantastic.

Now, you might be asking, "Who's 'we?'" For the second week in a row, I did my Wednesday workout with Rachel Bliner, a fellow San Diego alum, a fellow Phoenix mentor, and (obviously) a fellow Rachel. (She is also a fellow faller - she wiped out in New Paltz, too). This week, Michael Conlon didn't like that we were running together because in theory that would mean we weren't pushing each other. I know I wasn't holding back, and Rachel B says that I tend to push her anyway, so I think it was actually a pretty dead on workout for both of us.

At the end of the workout, I was really proud of what we'd accomplished. Setting these little mini-goals feels good, and crushing them feels even better. Rachel B told me after last night's workout she's dedicating the song "Defying Gravity" to me. For those of you unfamiliar, it's a song from the musical "Wicked", and listening to it gives you chills. Most of us ladies on the team really love the song, and I actually plan on singing it in my head for the entire Philly half marathon, which I'm running 2 weeks from Sunday. Speaking of the Philly half, I have some major goals for that race, which I'm not going to vocalize because it's a very personal thing. I am really focused on that race right now and I want to really see what I can do with that distance. I feel like if I can crush these small goals, I can work toward the bigger ones. It's a totally different approach to those races than I've taken in the past - I've never actually had a set time goal - so I find it both frightening and motivating, and I can feel the adrenaline pulsing through my veins already. I am PSYCHED.

Might I Actually Be Getting Faster?

This morning we all ran a 5 mile race in the park - it was the Poland Springs Marathon Kickoff 5 Miler. The  NYC marathon is officially a week away, so this little race was the first of many events this week leading up to the big one next Sunday. I was tired, and had just planned to run the race nice and easy. I ran at a pace that felt easy, and I wasn't checking my watch often, and I ended up PR'ing the race! Who AM I?! My breathing was relaxed, my legs felt strong, and I cruised my way to a really great time.

I think today was just this strange combination of great running weather, great energy, a decent course, and apparently a strong performance from yours truly. I also think it can be largely attributed to the speedwork I'm suffering through this season. Last Wednesday night is the perfect example:

We did a "Halloween run" where we dressed up in costumes. My mentor group dressed up as Pheidippides, the ancient Greek warrior that ran the first marathon ever (side note: he died at the end of it). We knew we'd be running hills that night and togas were an easily-removable costume if they proved to be too much of a hindrance, and we thought it was clever. We did NOT, however, know we would be running Harlem Hill, as opposed to Cat Hill. I'd had a really solid hill workout the week before on Cat Hill and was looking to repeat. Harlem Hill is allegedly shorter (we used the back side, not the evil side) but it felt just as long to me, and man that thing is absolutely steeper. I ran 6 strong repeats up that damn thing and every time felt like I couldn't breathe when I got to the top - which, by the way, is the entire point. Coach Jason ran repeat number 4 with me, which was, of course, my strongest one all night, and he kept yelling "This is how you get faster!!!". The son of a bitch is right, apparently. He was also wearing a warrior costume, which made it kind of funny, even though I had zero air left to laugh.

I have to say, seeing the hard work pay off really makes you want to keep doing it. I never thought I'd really get much faster; stronger, and more comfy at a slow pace, yes. But faster? I kind of can't believe it's happening.

I Fall For Fall

Well, I'm back from the New Paltz trip and it was F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S. We loaded up into a 15 passenger van and a few other cars and headed up at the crack of dawn on Saturday, and 2 hours later arrived at Minnewaska State Park to do our long run. We knew we were going to be doing trail running, which is always a bit of a challenge, but we didn't know just how hard this particular trail was going to be. The climb was incredibly steep, so much so that it felt more like a tempo run than an easy pace, and the "trail" was laden with rocks and roots and leaves and other hazards, and parts of it were just a few feet away from a massive drop off. It could have been pretty mentally challenging if you focused on the crazy terrain - on top of everything, the fallen leaves create this pattern that kind of hypnotizes you, in addition to being slippery - but we were completely spoiled by amazing fall weather and some of the most breathtaking views I've seen in a damn long time. The fall colors were really showing off: bright reds, yellows, oranges, and hybrids, so vibrant and beautiful. It was 100% worth it.

We were enjoying ourselves so much actually that when we reached our designated turn-around time, we decided to run a little further down to this beautiful lake, just to check it out. It was an excuse to stay out there in relative solitude and peace and serenity for a little while longer, too. It was such a happy little surprise. We also didn't really run in pace groups - the advanced runners kind of stuck together, and then the intermediate runners stuck together, and then a few smaller groups of beginners held back and did their own thing. I got to run with people I hadn't run with before, and it was cool because we'd run a mile or two and then stop to check out the views and wait for some of the other runners to catch up to us. It's obviously not the way we'd typically run long, but it felt incredible. I also stopped at one of the cliffs with a completely uninterrupted panoramic view of the valley below and said a special prayer for Grandpa. I could feel him with me up there.

We finally forced ourselves to turn around and accepted that we couldn't stay and play in the mountains all day, and I had made it through just shy of 9 miles when the inevitable happened. I fell. And when I say I fell, I mean I F-E-L-L. I was running with people I'd never run with before and I think it freaked them out more than it freaked me out, actually. Both knees got banged up pretty badly, as did my right hip and both hands, and I ripped my tights. It was a pretty solid wipeout. I'm grateful I didn't get seriously hurt, but annoyed that it happened when I'd made it through more than 75% of the run sans incident! But, such is life.

The rest of the day and night were spent BBQing and partying and s'more-ing at Michael Conlon's house, which is a perfect country get away with a fire pit and space galore. The recovery run this morning was a little rough, due to exhaustion, my now-swollen/injured knees, and a slight touch of a hangover, and then don't worry, we got to suffer through bootcamp. We did 14 stations including tire pulls, mountain climbers, push ups, squat thrusts, jump rope, ladder work, suicides, and more. How we were able to do that after the insanity that was the Saturday run, I could not tell you, but somehow it was actually fun! We were paired up with people we didn't know, for the most part, and it was a very cool way to bond and meet new peeps. It was a great way to close out the weekend.

I think the point of the trip was to get out of the city, shake things up, get us out of our comfort zone, meet new people, bond more closely with people you already knew, and experiment with a different type of running. Mission definitely accomplished, and these were all great things. Huge props to Michael Conlon for putting it together, I can't wait to do it again!

Go To Hill

Last night was the first hill workout of the season. I might be a bit of a masochist, but I actually prefer hills to regular speed workouts. I can't explain it, because I think most would agree that hills are harder and more daunting than regular sprints. I shall consider myself lucky.

I had Christine with me and we crushed our hill repeats with amazing consistency. I have a tendency to go out too fast (that's what she said), so my first repeat is usually hideously fast and then they successively get slower. Not the case last night! I was really consistent from start to finish and I didn't feel like I was going to throw up or pass out at the end. I'm becoming a stronger runner - both in physical running strength and in learning how to train smarter - and it feels good! I wasn't even too sore today, which again is fabulous.

This weekend we're off to New Paltz for a training camp of sorts, consisting of a 10 mile trail run and bon fire with s'mores on Saturday, followed by a recovery run and bootcamp on Sunday. Given my performance in the mud run where I wiped out on the trail run portion, I think it's safe to say that I'm definitely going to fall this weekend. The over/under on how many times that will be is set at 6. I'm taking "over".

Connected

I have kind of a smorgasbord of thoughts today... but they all eventually point toward staying connected.

This past Saturday we had our season's Connection to the Cause event. We met at the NYU Hospital for Joint Disease, ran just shy of 9 miles, and then got served a fabulous breakfast by Dunkin Donuts before filing into a lecture hall to get things started. A couple of physical therapists talked about injury prevention, the importance of stretching, and the importance of strength training, which was nothing new, but it's always good to hear more about these things. Then one of the oncologists, Dr. Amitabha Mazumder, spoke to us about his work with multiple myeloma. Multiple myeloma is a cancer of the immune cells. He talked about targeted therapies and personalized therapies and explained how the money we raise goes directly to research to develop better treatments that will eventually lead to that cure. He also talked about why it is that bone marrow transplants work. When you get someone else's healthy marrow, your body recognizes their marrow as "home" marrow and the tumor cells as "foreign". There is a treatment where you can do self marrow donation (have some of your own marrow extracted and frozen, and then transplanted back into your body at a later date) but the risk there is that your body may not recognize the tumor as foreign. Fascinating stuff. I found myself so interested in what he was saying, and even taking notes. It felt like being back in college, which was awesome, and it also made me really want to learn more.

When Dr. Mazumder was done, my mentee, Matt, spoke about his experience with cancer. He was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma in 2007, went into remission at one point, but the cancer is now back. He has the best outlook about it and such a great attitude. He was explaining to us that he has tumors in his neck, and when he sensed the air in the room getting a little serious, he said "You can actually feel the tumors in my neck - but if you want to use that as a fundraiser, I get a cut!". Freakin hilarious, such an awesome guy. It sucks that he has cancer. It really really does. We have to get him a cure, he is way too great to have this horrible disease. I left the event feeling connected to the cause and sufficiently re-motivated and inspired to stay involved with this awesome organization.

Last week I got something in the mail from Grandpa. I know it wasn't really from him, but the return address label had only his name on it, and ultimately it was a gift from him - it was a small amount of money from his estate that he wanted each of his grandchildren to have. I have no doubt how much Grandpa loved me, and seeing the check and the message from my grandmother was a reminder of that. The relationship between grandparents and their grandchildren is such a special thing; his checks to all of us were more about recognizing that special relationship than they were about giving us a monetary gift. It was hard and made me sad because I'd rather have my Grandpa than any amount of money, but it was also such a beautiful gesture that warms the heart.

Finally, tonight my cousin Lillian decided to go to a TNT info session. She's been getting into running lately and had been toying with the idea of running a big race, so she decided to check us out. I am proud to say that she is officially registered to run the March 2011 NYC half marathon with Team in Training!!! For her, getting the check from Grandpa is what motivated her to more seriously look into it, and as much as her season will be about running, it will be equally about our grandfather and honoring his memory.

Grandpa and Lil

We Don't Want To Be Fat For The Wedding

We are having the most beautiful fall weather here in NY. It's been sunny and high 60s/low 70s, so fabulous! Of course I'd like it to be about 10 degrees cooler than that for my training, but it'll head that way shortly anyway so I'm enjoying the weather as it is for the meantime. I had an OK 8 mile run yesterday - I had heavy legs, which is never ideal, but I was having fun with my TNTers so that made it lovely despite my uncooperative lower extremities. We had an engaged couple in our pace group who just joined TNT this week. We were asking them what made them want to join and the guy said "Well, we're getting married in the Caribbean in April and we don't want to be fat for the wedding!" Freaking hilarious - and a perfectly respectable reason for joining, by the by! :)

Our pace group splintered off 2 miles into the run because we were all running different distances, so Steph, Christine, and I ran the final 6 together. It was their first time up Harlem Hill, and it wasn't terrible for them. Though, from my recollection, my first time up Harlem Hill wasn't actually that bad either. It's when you get to know the hill and you know exactly how long it is and how much further you have to climb that it becomes difficult. The bastardly hill aside, it was fun covering the distance with the chicas! We talked a lot, obviously, and I kind of guided them through the run; they had lots of questions for me about my preferences for gear, nutrition, hydration, strategy, etc, and I loved answering them! I had all the same questions during my first season, it's nice to be able to pass the knowledge along. I can't remember if it was Christine or Steph, but one of them said I should consider coaching some day. First of all that's a huge compliment, and second, once I get to be a stronger runner with a little more experience, it's something I would looooove to do. It's kind of like cheerleading, and I always like helping people, so it's a natural fit. Something to think about :)

I didn't quiiiiiiite get to my recovery run today - overdid it slightly last night! - but otherwise my training has been super solid so far this season and it feels so different. It's easier and I have a lot more confidence in my ability. It's a great feeling.

Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable

I hate speed work. I hate it. I love long slow runs that provide a serenity and calmness and where you feel like you can go forever. I do NOT love sprinting at max effort. But, it's a necessary evil for marathon training. This past Wednesday was our first speed workout of the season. We did quarter mile repeats (sprint for a quarter of a mile, slow jog for a quarter of a mile, repeat 6 times). You have to run as fast as you freaking can during the sprinting segments. Your breathing is high and so is your heartrate, and it should feel like you can't sustain it for too long. As Michael Conlon so eloquently put it, you have to get comfortable being uncomfortable. I hate the discomfort - I haaaaate it. Did I mention I hate it?

Being the geniuses that we are, during the first repeat we completely missed the quarter mile marker that the coaches had drawn into the path with chalk, so we sprinted the entire half mile. Then, when we reached the turn around point, it should've been time for another sprint, sooooo we sprinted the next quarter mile so as not to screw up the segments. For you math majors, that's 3 quarters of a mile at a dead sprint. Not. A. Fan. This resulted in me only doing 6 repeats instead of the 8 I'd wanted to do. It's a long season, I've got time to make up the missed reps, but from here on out I want to be sure that I complete the max reps recommended for my level (I'm following the intermediate plan this season), provided I'm feeling well and injury-free.

I actually asked coach Jason to be on my ass this season, because I want to be pushed and I want to gain some speed. He pushed me in the best of ways - keeping an eye on me, but not being up my ass, and being motivating and encouraging without making me feel slow, and it definitely helps you push when you know you're being watched. I'm sure at some point I'm going to regret asking him to push me, but I'm so grateful that TNT gives you these awesome coaches so you at least have the option of getting your ass kicked.

Coach Jason - runner, coach, warrior

Down and Dirty

Sorry for slacking on the blog posts!! It's been an eventful few weeks. I got to spend a few days in Massachusetts staying with Grandma, which was lovely. It was great to see her and I'm happy to help her with whatever she might need, but the house is very strange without Grandpa there. It was weird, I was almost waiting for him to come around the corner from the living room, wearing his dark green sweater, glasses on, and carrying a print out of some kind from the computer (most likely a freshly penned Letter to the Editor). His slippers are exactly where he left them last; I put my feet into them for just a second, and I swear I could feel him there with me. I saw the jar where he used to keep his jelly beans, the straws I bought for him when he had trouble drinking out of a glass those last few days, his medicines in the bathroom, etc. He's still very much a part of that house, and while it was tough and sad for me, it felt nice at the same time.

I came back to the city for about 24 hours and then headed off to the Hamptons with 7 of my TNT kiddos to cheer them on for the Hamptons half marathon - and they all ROCKED IT. I really love running, but I also really love cheering runners on. I know exactly how they're feeling, and I want to pump them up and keep them going strong. Everyone hit their goal - Rob PRed at 1:26, Sarah Ray went sub-2 for the first time, Kate ran her first ever half at 1:59, Layla PRed at 1:52, and Rory had a great race despite a nipple mishap. My friends are beasts - and it was SO fun to cheer them on.

I got back to the city last night and then headed up to the Bronx at the crack of dawn to run the Merrell Down and Dirty mud run!! I ran it with my friend Steph, who is new to TNT this season. What a bonding experience, man. It's a 5K race with military style obstacles and lots o' mud, and there were military volunteers at every obstacle either yelling at you or cheering you on, depending on their personality :) The obstacles included climbing over marine hurdles (VERY hard for us shorties, thankfully some nice guy gave us a boost for the first one!), crawling through dirt, climbing up a cargo net, crawling through thick mud, climbing over a wall, wading through the OCEAN (yes, in October), climbing up a sloped wall that had been made slippery with Paul Mitchell shampoo (they sponsored the race), and ultimately military-crawling under ropes through a massive mud pit at the end. It was SO MUCH FUN!! The running part was mostly trail running and I totally wiped out at one point - and when I say wiped out, I mean I tripped on something and did a full superman layout in the woods. I popped up immediately and kept running though, because I'm a badass (the reality is I wasn't badly hurt, just scraped the crap out of my knees and shins).The irony is right before I fell we were saying "I wonder what Michael Conlon would think about us doing such a hazardous race during marathon training." Fail.

After the race we took some pics (see below!) and then went back into the ocean to get CLEAN. You wouldn't believe the places we had mud... The line for the changing area was way too long, so we just stripped behind a bush - and when I say "bush", I mean an area that was pretty much in full view for EVERYone. There's only one way to get off soaking wet clothes, and we were freezing, so it had to be done - plus it makes for a funny story. Oh and the medals for this race were dog tags - how cool is that?

All in all, it's been a great week - time with family, TNT bonding, and great races :)

Muddy girls at the end of the race!!!

Damage from falling on the trail. Other knee/shin looks like this too. Ow.

I Eat Half Marathons For Breakfast

I ran the Philadelphia ING Rock N Roll half marathon this past Sunday. That's right, we're a week into the season, and I pulled off 13.1 miles. How did this happen, you ask? I'm not entirely sure myself, but here's what I got so far:

I registered for this race several months ago, because I liked the timing and Nicole was moving to Philly for grad school so we decided to run it together (by "run it together", I mean run the same race at drastically different paces). As race day grew nearer, I'd planned to increase my mileage and frequency of runs, but given the record-setting heat NY experienced this summer and my lack of brain cells, I didn't train at all for this bad boy. Up until the train ride down to Philly I wasn't actually sure I was going to go through with the race, figuring I would hurt myself or not be able to finish.

Well, I ran that race, I didn't hurt myself, and I finished strong! I wanted to take it nice and easy, do a little jog through the streets of Philly, and have a good time. Somehow that's exactly what ended up happening, despite my complete lack of preparation. What I gathered from that race experience is three-fold:

1. Racing is very temperamental... no matter what you do (or don't do) to prepare, there's no guarantee you're going to have a good or bad race
2. A flat course is a gift from God
3. I am in much better shape than I give myself credit for

I think #3 is the most important thing. I have come bananas far since I first started running on the reg. I went from aiming to finish a 10K last year to being able to run a half marathon more or less on a whim. Who am I?!? I am so much stronger and more capable than I think I am.

At the end of the race I was feeling pretty awesome, enjoying the beautiful Philly weather and taking silly pics at the top of the art museum steps (a la Rocky). It was the best I've felt after a race, no question, and I was just feeling the happy when I saw a girl with a t-shirt that said "There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up." I could not agree more, and it was the perfect way to end the perfect race.


National Grandparents Day

Well, I survived my first National Grandparents Day without Grandpa. It was a sad day for me. I wished so badly that I could call him and hear him say "How do you DO?!" as only he could when answering the phone, or even send him a colorful email with large font and lots of exclamation points telling him what a fabulous Grandpa he is. As my uncle said so poignantly at the funeral, he was known for his courage and his encouragement. Two fabulous qualities in a grandparent - ones not easily duplicated. He would always tell me, "You're grand, Rae", and I would always respond back with a smile and say, "So are you - it's in the title".

Today was doubly hard because I ran the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure (for the billionth year in a row) in memory of my stepgrandmother, Judy. For those who have been following this blog since San Diego, you know that Judy died in April of 2003 from breast cancer. I miss her all the time too, and I proudly run that race every year in her honor. Stephen Colbert spoke before the race again this year and as always, he managed to lighten the mood, so that was nice, and then Nancy Brinker (founder of the Susan G. Komen foundation, she is Susan's sister) got us off and running. I ran a nice easy race, got a bunch of great pink swag afterward, and it was a really great atmosphere. We were 25,000 strong, so that's 25,000 people racing toward a cure. It lifts your heart.

Grandparents in general lift my heart. It's such a special relationship, without the tension or baggage of the parent/child relationship, and with a common understanding of family and each other. I am so fortunate to still have 3 wonderful grandparents out there and to all of them I wish a Happy Grandparents Day <3

That's What's Up

Tonight at our final pre-season practice, I ran with the amazing Alicia, who is new to TNT this season. I had met her before (she's a friend of the equally amazing Lindsay "Steel" Brady) but I'd never run with her before. She was a little nervous about completing the work out, which was a 2.05 mile run, but she did GREAT. She was saying how she's not a runner, and she wasn't sure she could make it without stopping, and she wasn't wearing the right shoes, but she sincerely rocked it. Her pacing was perfect, she kept up the conversation the whole time. At the end of it I asked how she felt and she said "I feel great! I can't believe I ran the whole thing!" I remember that feeling of not knowing whether or not I could do something, and the feeling of breaking through those barriers. It's so inspiring to see someone else going through it now.

At the end of practice after we stretched, 2 random guys in the park approached me to ask about what the hell all these people dressed in purple were running for! I told them all about TNT and the training and the races and they were so interested. They were giggling at the thought of seriously attempting 26.2, and they were excited about the coaching aspect, and meeting all the great people. At the end of the conversation one of the guys said "And it's for leukemia? That's what up!" Yes, my new friend Dan, that IS what's up. They'll be joining us this Saturday morning at the pre-kickoff info session, and I am psyched and proud to have convinced them to give us a shot.

I'm feelin' good after that. Even the condensed amount of sunlight can't diminish the inspiration, motivation, and general warmth I feel tonight.

...In the Shape of You

Hi all,

Last night I was watching the Emmy awards after spending a weekend at home in MA with family and friends. I thought it was gonna be a good show, and on top of being freakin hilarious, there were a couple things that really stuck with me after the final award had been handed out.

The first thing was when George Clooney was presented with the Bob Hope Humanitarian Award. I wasn't expecting much, other than some (sincere) gratitude and some shout-outs about Katrina; but his comments were:

"It's important to remember how much good can get done because we live in such strange times where bad behavior sucks up all the attention and the press, and the people who really need the spotlight, they can't get any. The truth is, look, when a disaster happens, everybody wants to help. The hard part is that seven months later, five years later, when we're on to a new story. Honestly, we've failed at that most of the time. That's the facts. I've failed at that. Here's hoping a very bright person can find a way to help keep the spotlight burning on these heartbreaking situations that continue to be heartbreaking long after the cameras go away. That'd be an impressive accomplishment."

Now, I'm not ordinarily a huge Clooney fan - not that I dislike him, I just haven't had much of an opinion either way toward him - but I have to say I think this was a powerful and necessary message. When something terrible happens, as a society we are pretty good at immediate response, but we seem unaware of the fact that these things don't go away just because we forget about them, or because we think we "did our part" to help. I think cancer is very much like this... some people are gung-ho immediately after someone close to them is diagnosed, or even when someone famous is diagnosed and hosts a telethon of some sort, but a few months or years later they've lost that passion to fight the disease, to raise awareness, to keep it in the spotlight. I wish it didn't take some kind of crisis, whether international or personal, for people to stay active, to stay involved. Make no mistake that it is our collective responsibility to take care of each other. Don't think it doesn't apply to you - it applies to everyone.

The second part of the show that really hit home was Jewel's song during the "In Memoriam" part of the show where they honor the memory of those in show business who passed away this year. The song was called "Shape of You", and the lyrics so accurately describe how I feel about losing Grandpa. I'm also not typically a crazy huge Jewel fan (same deal as Clooney, could take her or leave her), but this song is something really special.

September settles softly/Leaves are startin' to fall
And I recall the last time you were here
Your laughter a melody that lingers still

There’s a hole in my heart/And I carry it wherever I go
Like a treasure that travels with me down every road
There’s this longing lonesome, deep/Kind of bitter kind of sweet
There’s a hole in my heart/In the shape of you

Time stealing swiftly/As children having children of their own
Around life’s merry go round goes/And there you are watching what you cannot hold

There’s a hole in my heart/And I carry it wherever I go
Like a treasure that travels with me down every road
There’s this longing lonesome, deep/Kind of bitter kind of sweet
There’s a hole in my heart/In the shape of you

Even though my heart aches/There’s a smile on my face
'Cause just like the window to heaven/There’s a light shining through
This hole in my heart

There’s a hole in my heart/There’s a hole in my heart
There’s a hole in my heart/But it’s in the shape of you

A Month Already

Exactly 1 month ago today, Grandpa passed away. Time has flown, and at the same time it's stood still, if that's possible. I had a really hard time saying that he "passed away" at first, and trying to utter the word "died" wasn't anywhere near my realm of possibility. Instead I would say that he went to be with God and the angels. It's still hard to talk about... the loss I feel is palpable. Sometimes I swear I can feel the crack down the middle of my heart. It's like it's not so much beating as it just throbbing, at this point. I knew it would be hard - the minute he got diagnosed I knew this time was coming and I knew it would be horrible. I just didn't know it would be this excruciating.

But, I do believe he's with God, and I do believe he's with the angels - he's probably flirting with all of them, in fact - so that is at least the slightest bit comforting. His spirit is everywhere: every time I remember to shut off the lights in the other room, when I shut off the water while I brush my teeth, when I reach for my re-usable grocery bags, when I probe perfect strangers about their personal lives, when I probe close friends about their personal lives, when I see roses, when I buy local, when I successfully sleuth out an answer. That's Grandpa, or at least a few small pieces of him. He's the voice in my head when I'm questioning what to do, and he's the moral compass that always guides me north. I more strongly feel courage of my convictions when I think of him. While he may not be physically present, I feel him with me.



i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Back at it

Hi all!

Yes, I am back at it - I am officially going for marathon #2! I'll be running with Team in Training for the January 2011 Phoenix marathon.

As you all know, I run for my Grandpa. Some of you may not have heard that he passed away 3 weeks and 1 day ago from leukemia. There's only so many times I can recount the story and give the details, so please see my fundraising page for more info:

Please check back here often for updates on training, fundraising, and good times all throughout the season! Thank you in advance for all the support as I go for round 2.

Love,
Rachel

The Race

Well, if you check your calendar, you’ll see today is June 7th (or maybe even June 8th by the time I finish this massive post). That of course means I am officially a marathon finisher. They say less than 1% of the population will ever run a marathon in their lives, and I am very proud to be part of that elite group. It was NOT easy getting there – the race itself was the most horrible physical thing I’ve ever had to endure – but it was all worth it. Here’s how race weekend went down:

The Inspiration Dinner

Saturday at 4:30 we had the big pasta party. I didn't know this was going to happen, but all the coaches from around the country were lined up on either side of the entrance to the event room and there was music and balloons and decorations and the coaches were cheering. It was like being in a parade of athletes, and it was one of the coolest moments of the weekend for sure. All the Team in Training participants gathered in a big event room at the hotel to carbo load and hear some inspirational speeches, one of which was from TNT New York’s very own coach Christy! They also gave out awards and recognition to the top fundraisers, and the person at #1 was New York’s own Jackie – this girl raised over $50,000 for this race. Yes, you read that correctly – FIFTY GRAND. She is just amazing.

After we were sufficiently full of pasta and garlic bread, we headed to a NY-only meeting to do some final prep for race day. Coaches gave last minute advice, we reviewed the logistics, and then our coordinator announced that they were going to do some final mission moments. I wasn’t anticipating the mission moment part, I just assumed we were done with that. One of my teammates, Kevin, got up first and spoke about his reasons for running with the team. His father died of a blood cancer, and he walked us through his experience from the diagnosis right up until his dad lost the battle against the disease, and he ended his speech in tears. It was powerful hearing him speak. All season long, our coordinator had been asking me to present my connection to the cause as a mission moment before one of our practices, but I just couldn’t do it. I knew it would be too emotional and I would cry and I didn’t want to cry in front of this big group of people. But, watching Kevin have the courage to get up there and let it all out to inspire others, I decided I could do it too. One or 2 other people spoke, and then I raised my hand to speak. I warned everyone that I was going to cry throughout the entire thing (which I did) and then I stood up and told my story, focusing on my special connection with Grandpa and how he has inspired me to lose my mind and run 26.2 miles. There was a lot more to the speech, and it was incredibly emotional, but it actually felt really great to get it out there. And as for being afraid of crying in front of other people, half the room was in tears when I was done, so it was okay.

At the end of the meeting, mentor J got up to give out the Spirit Cape for the last time. Throughout the season, before every Saturday run, J would present the Spirit Cape to someone who showed great TNT spirit, or held a particularly successful fundraising event, or otherwise had a great week related to TNT. That person would take the cape home (the “cape” by the way is a long sleeve white t-shirt), and add a form of decoration to it. People put race numbers, pins, bedazzled jewels, a medal, words of inspiration, etc. It’s actually a pretty awesome honor to get the cape for a week. So, since this was the last moment before the race, whoever got the cape on Saturday would take it home to keep. J got up and he said that he was going to present the Spirit Cape to Jackie, for having kicked so much fundraising ass. Then he said “But, and I think Jackie will agree with this decision, I’d like to give the cape to Rachel, and Rachel I’d like you to give this to your grandfather .” And at that point of course the tears just started flowing. It was the nicest, most unexpected gesture. J hugged me and gave me the cape and everyone was cheering, and it was the most amazing feeling in the world. That kind of support and camaraderie and love and understanding is exactly why I do TNT. That was absolutely the highlight of my TNT season. A bunch of people came up to me after the meeting was over for hugs and words of support and to sign the Spirit Cape, and that just made it even more special.

The Race

I didn’t sleep at all Saturday night. We decorated our singlets for about a half hour after the meeting ended, and then Audrey and I were in bed by 9:30. I laid in bed all night trying to sleep, and it just didn’t happen. The alarms went off at 3am and we were up and getting ready to go! We gooped up in many layers of SPF 50 sweatproof sunscreen and anxiously got into our race outfits and packed our bags. The NY team had to be in the hotel lobby at 4am, because that’s when the shuttle bus was supposed to take us to the start line. We gathered inside, and then we moved outside because there were too many of us. We took pictures, we tied bows in our hair (the girls, mostly), we wrote our names on our arms with permanent marker so crowds could cheer for us by name, and we just kind of hung out. There was lots of talk about who had or hadn’t pooped yet – and trust me when I tell you that’s a crucial part of race morning. You really get to know people intimately throughout this process so this conversation felt oddly normal. The buses didn’t get there until after 5am, so we had a lot of time to hang out. The mood was excited and optimistic, and actually I could’ve stayed there all day and had a blast with my teammates. But we had a race to run!

I had a very bad race. I was expected to finish between 4:48 and 5:00, and I finished nowhere near that time. What went wrong, you might ask? Let’s start with the weather. I know, southern California in June is going to be hot. However there is this phenomenon called “the marine layer”, whereby San Diego is covered in cloud and fog until about 10am every day. Also, the couple days before the race had been quite cloudy with just patches of intense sunshine, and it had been cool enough to the point where people were buying cardigans to wear. Plus, the race started at 6:15am, and it’s never hot that early in the morning. Given that, we thought “Oh! It won’t be that bad!”. We, of course, are idiots. The marine layer burned off prior to 9am on race day and there was NO shade on that course after about mile 4. It was hot hot hot and beyond sunny. Think about a day at the beach – you spend maybe 3 or 4 hours in the sun and you’re tired and drained afterward and probably need a nap. Imagine running that entire time with no shade and no ocean to cool off in. Yeah, not cool.

Then there was the course. I don’t know what is wrong with these people, but putting a 3.5 mile hill along a marathon is just not nice. The hill was incredibly gentle on the incline, but god over 3 miles of ANY incline will make you want to vomit. A huge chunk of the run was on the highway, and the highways in San Diego are slanted. Yes, SLANTED, meaning the road physically slopes downward toward the shoulder. It wasn’t like a 1 or 2 degree difference either – you were forced to run lopsided, and it felt like running uphill the entire time because you were almost trying to square off your body so you didn’t have to run crooked. The spectators were weak, because obviously it’s not practical to have spectators along the side of the goddamn highway, and the race started at the crack of dawn so not many people were up and out for it. Spectators are so crucial – at around mile 13 some girls had made a long banner that said “Rock N Roll Runners!” and they held it out in front of me and told me to run through it. I don’t know why they picked me out of the crowd, but it was amazing and it totally picked me up. I could've used a little more of that.

Then there were the bands… the bands were not good. And I mean NOT good. There was an organ playing “Climb Every Mountain” around mile 3, and that was amazing. But after that, the bands were pretty bad local ‘talent’ singing off key to cover songs. There were maybe 10 bands total (so not every mile), the stages were small, and the music wasn’t loud enough to carry more than 20 steps or so beyond the stage so it didn’t help too much as far as distracting you from the pain.

I had 9 gus on me, because you’re supposed to eat them every half hour to 45 minutes and I wanted to be prepared. I got through 5 gus and then physically could not get them in my mouth after that. Also they had Cytomax instead of Gatorade, which I think I mentioned before, and after drinking Cytomax for 16 miles you just want to die. They pride themselves on not having much sodium in their drink – ummmm guess what you frigging need during an endurance event? SODIUM. I ate a salt pack at the beginning of the race and had a little more salt half way through, but man I could’ve used some Gatorade. The Cytomax was too sweet and that paired with the gu, after mile 17 I was like forget it, I can’t put another thing in my mouth or I’ll vomit. I actually had a really decent first half of the race – we held back and took it really slowly, trying to respect the heat, the sun, and the distance, and then mile 17 was my doom. My body just ate it – the sun was draining everything out of me, and it was so intense I would dump water on my head and my hair was dry by the next mile marker. I had so much pain in my IT bands and my quads and my butt it was almost unbearable. I had to slow WAY down to compensate for all that, and at that point I knew I was nowhere near a 4:48 marathon. I was basically shuffling from that point on – you can barely classify it as ‘running’.

And then there was Fiesta Island for miles 20-25… There isn’t enough room here for me to tell you how AWFUL fiesta island is. When I see a name like Fiesta Island, I envision a party on an island. We thought lots of balloons, bands, spectators, and general merriment. We could not have been more wrong. This fiesta island, as it turns out, is a barren LANDFILL. A LANDFILL?! Are you KIDDING me?! And there was not 1 tree on this island of hell - I kid you not, it felt like running through the desert. We’re calling it Shutter Island – it was just that bad. There was 1 band on the entire island (which is 5+ miles in circumference) and no spectators. It was unbearable. Thank god the coaches were staggered throughout that part of the race. Coach Pam ran me onto the island and got me to the first water stop, and she kept insisting I looked like I was doing great. I think she was just being nice. I shuffled by myself for awhile and caught coach Steve. Poor, poor Steve. I grabbed that man’s hand harder than I think I’ve gripped anything in my entire life. I told him I was in so much pain, and how I wanted to rip my sports bra off at that point because it felt like it was closing in on my rib cage and lungs. As a man he obviously couldn’t relate but he laughed and told me to stay focused and we’d get through it. I shuffled along with Steve and then he had to head back to get the next NY TNT people behind me, and then I shuffled with coach Peter for just a minute, because he had to get someone behind me who was struggling. So I shuffled more by myself, literally cursing in my head with every step, keeping my head down so as not to expose my sunburnt face to any more of the harsh sun, when I heard “Oh my god, Rachel?!” and it was Tippi, my NY TNT teammate! Her sweet southern accent sounded like music to my ears at that point. A few shuffled steps later, coach Jason came to run with us for a bit around mile 24. He was conversing with Tippi and I was just silent – at that point I literally couldn’t figure out how to put together a sentence. They call it “brain melt” - my brain just ceased to function. He reminded us of form, hydration, made sure we were eating, asked about pain, and it was all I could do to muster a thumbs up for him. He reluctantly had to get people behind me, so he sent us on.

One more water station and then, like a mirage in the middle of a desert, there appeared Michael Conlon, our head coach. I literally screamed “OH MY GOD MICHAEL CONLON!!!!”. I had never been so happy to see that man in my entire life. He was in a great mood, too – meanwhile I literally thought I was going to die. He was saying I looked good, and to just keep moving like I was moving, and then he got me some water and dumped it on my head and down my back, he held my hand for awhile, he told me my Grandpa would be proud, and then when we ran through mile 25 I was around a part of the island where I could actually see the finish on the mainland. He rubbed my head a little and then told me to finish strong, that he had to head back for other people but that coach Parks was up ahead right at the end of the island. I have never wanted to get off an island so badly in my entire life. I saw coach Parks right at the part that bridges the island to the land, and he said “Oh you’re lookin great, you don’t need my help, head on strong to the finish line baby!” and in my brain I was like “OH MY GOD COACH PARKS NOOOOOOO!” but all that would come out of my mouth was “Ok I got it.” Um, “OK I got it”? I so did not have it. I was in so much pain and wanted to stop and lie down so badly and never do this ever again. But, somehow I kept running.

The Finish
There were finally a ton of people for that last half mile or so. And for those final 30 seconds, I was completely overwhelmed. I let the tears flow, threw my arms up, and finally crossed that finish line. I can’t believe I survived 26.2 frigging miles. I now completely understand why the first guy who ever ran that distance died at the end of it. That race is no joke. And I am so glad it’s over. A few steps after the finish I put my hands on my knees and just cried for about 30 seconds out of relief, joy, pride, pain, exhaustion, confusion, and just about every emotion you can experience. A girl wearing a TNT jersey had just finished and she came up to me and said “I don’t know you, but I get it,” and she hugged me and cried with me too. I don’t know her name, but I’ll never forget that moment as long as I live.

I got my medal, took my official picture (which I’m sure looks amazingly attractive…), then checked in with TNT before realizing that the baggage trucks were alllllllllllllllllll the way back on the other side of the finish line. I almost lost it. Seriously, I just couldn’t fathom walking 20 minutes at that point. It was horrible. I got my bag, grimacing with EVERY step, and went back to the TNT tent to drink my low fat chocolate milk. I changed my bra and shirt right out in the open in front of everyone because I seriously just couldn’t wear that goddamn sports bra anymore, and I sat and thought about what I had just done. Tears just kept flowing every time I thought about how hard that race was and how glad I was that it was over.

The Victory Party

After suffering through 26.2 miles all I wanted to do was lay down. Audrey and I took the shuttle back to the hotel, tried to beg the concierge to bring us up bags of ice (they declined – and I’d like to extend a large F-YOU to the Hilton San Diego Bayfront for that), slugged down the hall together to raid the ice machine, and took our ice baths and showers. Just a couple hours later was the victory party – most of the girls had planned to wear cute sundresses, and I had several cute outfits packed for it. The outfit I ended up deciding on? A longsleeve shirt with a hood, leggings, and sneakers. The portrait of both style and grace, of course.

My first move at the party –the bar of course! I loaded up with 2 stellas and those first few sips were amazing. My 2nd move at the party was to locate the coaches and give them BIG hugs around the next for getting me through those last 6 miles!!! And I checked to make sure Steve’s hand was intact :) Then I thought/assumed I would be starving, so I grabbed 2 cup thingies of mashed potatoes, but I only ate one of them and was really full. I have no idea why. We spent the next couple hours discussing the hellish course and celebrating our survival, and then we hit the dance floor. Oh yes, we danced after running 26.2 miles. I can’t explain it, because walking was still on the painful side, but dancing felt amazing! The coaches were out there shakin it with us, and we were just so happy and giddy to be done with the race, I think Gloria Estefan was right – eventually the rhythm IS going to get you… That, or after abstaining from booze for 3 weeks, and running 26.2 miles, your tolerance is really low so 2 beers gets you buzzed! Either way, it was good times. The NY team was clearly the largest team there, taking up a good chunk of the dance floor, and when they played Empire State of Mind we all went crazy. It was so much fun.

We had a NY-only after party at Dicks Last Resort for a few more drinks and more celebration, and then collapsing into that bed at the end of the night felt like heaven on earth. Today, I’m sore but I’m not completely dead, which is both surprising and delightful! I’m not walking 100% normal, and I need a little assistance from my arms to stand up and sit down, but overall not terrible. I feel like I ran a marathon, but not like I got run over by a truck.

Immediately at the end of the race, I kept saying “I’ll never do this again. NEVER ever again. I’ll do half marathons for the rest of my life but will never do a full again. Never ever. NEVER.” But then you know, this morning on the flight home to NY I was thinking about how it would go differently next time. Part of me was like “NEXT TIME?! I thought we agreed we were never doing this again!” and the other part of me knows I have it in me to do this again if I want to. I will never do San Diego again, but another marathon in general... They say it’s like childbirth, where you forget how painful it is. So, I take back the “I’ll never do it again”, because this TNT season was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. The people I met, the amazing charity, the sense of accomplishment on a weekly basis, pushing my boundaries, having a support group, doing things I never thought I could do – all of that adds up to an amazing amazing experience and I am so grateful for it. I don’t know what life after TNT looks like at the moment, but all possibilities are open :)

Thank you a thousand times over to my amazing supporters. The final tally is $4151 that we raised for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The New York team is just shy of 1 million dollars raised during just this season. Do you know how insane that is? The entire nation of Team in Training teams raised just over 12 million dollars for this marathon – so New York, just one city, raised 1/12 of that. We are so badass. None of us could’ve made it one step without you all, so sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart.

And most importantly, to my Grandpa: thank you for being my inspiration. You are the most amazing grandfather a girl could ask for. I am honored and proud to run for you. Now let’s beat that cancer :)

National Running Day!!

Hey everyone!!

Today is National Running Day!! http://www.runningday.org/events/index.php Lace up those sneaks and pound the pavement!! No excuses, make the time and get out there. Running has so many amazing benefits for mind, body, and soul. You burn 100 calories for every mile you run, it improves cardio vascular health and overall fitness, it tones your legs, it gives you some peaceful alone time, it gets you outside (away from those stuffy office buildings!), it teaches you discipline, it teaches you perseverance, and it gives you the best mental clarity you'll ever experience. It's cheaper than the gym, you can do it just about anywhere, and it feels so awesome.

A lot of people will tell you running will destroy your joints - more often than not, these people are non-runners. It sounds like another excuse to me. And, Stanford University actually just conducted a 21 year study that found that runners' knees were no more or less healthy than non-runners' knees. The study also found that runners experienced less physical disability and had a 39% lower mortality rate than the nonrunners. You can read more here: http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1948208,00.html But do it after you get today's run in!!

Some people think they can't run - FALSE! Everyone can run. Most beginners are running too fast, so they can't sustain the pace and they're discouraged by their labored breathing. It may sound obvious, but SLOW DOWN! Run at a pace where you can carry on a conversation. You'll be surprised at how long you can run at that pace :) And remember it's not a race, it's something you're doing for yourself, so get out there and run happy!!

In other news, I leave for San Diego TOMORROW. I'm running a marathon in 4 DAYS!! The cold is subsiding (thank god) and I'm feeling excited and nervous and excited again!

Countdown to San Diego: 4 days
Current Status: Running happy!

The Big Picture

The marathon is officially one week from today, and you won't frigging believe it, but I am SICK. I get sick once every few years - I don't get colds, I don't get the flu, I don't get fevers, none of that nonsense. And yet, for whatever reason, my body chose right now to get sick. The last time I was just plain old regular sick was April of 2006, just over 4 years ago. This is not bueno.

We had our last Saturday GTS (group training session) yesterday. We only had to run for an hour, and it was hell. Running with a chest cold is really unpleasant. I felt like there was an obese toddler sitting on my chest. That's right, not a regular, fits-into-the-normal-weight-range toddler; an obese toddler. It was just bad and I felt like crap afterward and mentally it messed with me. Thank god for Audrey, reminding me that it's just the cold that was keeping me down, I AM a better runner than that, and I will be fine. I'm actually taking western medicine right now - and praying to god it works.

I am currently watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition, because I had the genius idea that making myself cry would help get some of the mucus out of my nose. Seriously, that is my thought process - it makes sense in my head... Anyway... this episode happens to be about a woman who was battling leukemia. This woman was in her late 30s, and what saved her life was a bone marrow transplant from an anonymous donor. Sometimes the universe just knows when you need to be reminded of the big picture :)

So, now that I find myself within a week of the big race, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared shitless, but a marathon isn't nearly as scary as a cancer diagnosis. Gotta keep perspective! And this race doesn't have to be my be all, end all of this experience. I've been thinking about this lately - this has been a hell of a 4 months. I've met the greatest people and done things I never thought I could do. The race is really the icing on the cake. And this is a Rock N Roll marathon, meaning there are bands every mile or so. I fully intend to dance every time we stop for water, or every time I hear an awesome song. This may be my only marathon experience ever, why not enjoy the damn thing?! My finish time may not be stellar, but it's not about the destination, it's about the journey. It's about my journey. And I want to go through it dancin.

Countdown to San Diego: 7 days
Current Status: Sick, but calmer