I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Holy smokes, here we go again! We just kicked off Fall Season for Team in Training and I'll be back blogging. I thought it might be kind of fun to do some videos mixed in with regular blogs, so here you have my first attempt at a video. I just watched it and I can safely say that a) I hate how much my ears stick out and b) my eyes bug out of my head way too much.

I promise it won't all be videos this season - I am a far better writer than I am a speaker, and honestly at the top of my game, I'm a mediocre writer, at best. Anyway, if the sheer morbid curiosity gets the best of you, enjoy the video. And if not, I promise I'll write soon.

I Have a Feeling This Is Your Race

Here it is: the race day post! This one is long, and this may be slightly all over the place, so hold onto your hats.

We arrived in Arizona on Friday afternoon. Laura, my race weekend roomie, and I had decided ahead of time that we were going to try to keep things as zen as possible. We didn't want to do big group meals or sit at the pool or wander around the desert in hoards of TNTers. We love our friends, don't get us wrong, we just didn't want to hang out with them until the race was over. So we hit up the expo with Laura's family with a couple goals in mind: 1) buy some cute Arizona marathon gear (exhibit A - seriously in love with the shirt), 2) stop by the pace teams and see if they had the wrist bands or pace tattoos, and 3) not get caught in a clusterfuck of TNTers all trying to stop at the same time. 

Cute Arizona marathon gear

The pace teams booth was underwhelming. My exchange with the Pace Team Booth Guy (PTBG) went something like this:

Me: Why hello! I wanted to ask about the pace teams for Sunday. How exactly is it going to work?
PTBG:You pin this piece of paper to your back with your pace time on it and you run with your leader.
Me: Do you have pace bracelets or pace tattoos so we can verify if we're on target or not?
PTBG: We do not
Me: OK so hmmm... I'm interested in the 4:30 group. Who leads that?
PTBG: Dale and Danelle
Me: And what can you tell me about Dale and Danelle?
PTBG: All the peace team leaders are very strong runners who have run a lot of marathons. They'll get you to the finish at that pace.
Me: I see... but can you tell me anything about their personalities? Or their genders [I couldn't tell if "Dannelle" was meant to be either Danielle or Donelle - it could've gone either way]? Or their strategies? Are they going to walk water stops or run them? Is there a particular side of the road they'll stick to? Are they running with a Garmin or do they just 'feel' the pace?
PTBG: Look you'll have to ask them this stuff on race morning.
Me: So, you can't tell me anything.
PTBG: Not really.
Me: Awesome

I turned back to share my disbelief at their lack of preparation with some of my fellow teammates (Team Coach) who'd found us at the expo, and they'd never actually heard of the pace tattoos before - but they were interested.

Pace Tattoo

They walked off to continue their expo adventures, when not 30 seconds later, the fantastic Courtney Gordinier comes flying back over to me, yelling, "THEY HAVE THE PACE TATTOOS!! This other booth guy has them!!!". I swear you could actually hear angels singing. We all found pace tattoos that correlated with our race plans, and happily paid the whopping $3 it cost us.

Now you might be wondering, what the hell is a pace tattoo and why do you want one so badly? A pace tattoo is a stick on tattoo that displays a chart of total time that should have elapsed by the time you hit certain mile markers. So if you're targeting a 4 hour marathon, at mile 13.1 you need to be 2 hours into your race. If you're at mile 13.1 and the clock is at 1:45, you went out way too fast - and now you're gonna pay for it. Conversely, if you're at mile 13.1 and the clock is at 2:15, you may need to adjust your race goals or strategy for the back half. That's a simple example - any yahoo can divide a total race time in half to figure out where they should be at mile 13.1. The real benefit of these pace tats is that when you're at mile 17, and your brain can no longer put together a complete thought, let alone perform basic arithmetic, you can do a very quick glance down and immediately know if you're still on track for your goal finish time - no math required.

I decided to run with the 4:30 pace tat, because I wanted to finish somewhere between 4:30 and 5. Using 4:30 as a baseline made for easier math than using 4:45. I also decided I was going to begin the race with the 4:30 pace team in spite of PTBG's complete lack of info, see how it felt, and then make adjustments if I wasn't loving it.

After the expo, Laura and I had a thrilling evening of doing absolutely nothing, taking a Tylenol PM, and going to bed at 9:30pm. Saturday morning we had our team run, which would be a quick 20 minute jaunt around Phoenix, followed by some stretching and whatnot. It felt chilly at first, and the temp said only 55 degrees I think, so I had on a jacket, running shirt, and long capris. My teammates were dressed similarly. Not 5 minutes into the run, layers started coming off and everyone was sweating. We were fooled by the initial feel of the air - it was indeed hot, and getting hotter with each step. I start panicking in my head, being careful not to share my terror with others. San Diego was hot and sunny, and San Diego destroyed my running soul. I can't go through that again, I thought, I just can't.

Team Picture. In front of Hooters.

 So we went and stretched and took team pictures (in front of the Hooters...), and then Laura and I again spent the day doing basically nothing. We went back to the expo to get a fuel belt for me - I should've brought it from home, but I didn't think I was going to want to run with it, and then I changed my mind. See, all these "Rock n Roll" races are sponsored by Cyotmax. Cytomax is the devil's sports drink - it tastes horrible, and has none of what I need during a race (salt, sugar, and electrolytes). It just doesn't get the job done. I decided I would fill a fuel belt with just gatorade, and use the gatorade if I needed it. And worst case scenario, if the fuel belt bugged me, I would just rip it off and toss it on the side of the road.

Saturday evening was the inspiration dinner. When you walk in, the coaches are cheering and screaming for you, which is so much fun. Then inside the ballroom, a slide show is presenting slides of our personal honorees from all around the country.My heart pretty much stopped when I saw the slide I'd made for Grandpa. When you see something like that, especially displayed so hugely in front of that many people, and you see this massive "In Memory of" preceding your message, it feels like a dagger to the heart, you know? I don't think there will ever come a time where that doesn't happen. I missed Grandpa so much in that moment.

My slide at the Inspiration Dinner

The inspiration dinner got started, where John "the Penguin" Bingham emceed, and our very own Team Coach was named the #1 corporate team, having raised over $100,000 this season. Erin Cluney, one of my mentees and my longtime friend from BU, is the Coach team captain! I am so proud of her, they really rocked it. After some recognition, this former Olympic runner got up there and talked for what felt like 7 hours.

Matt Parrot

He had a dry humor that I found hilarious, but 10 minutes of him would've been more than enough. When he was finally through, my mentee and lymphoma patient, Matt Parrott, got to give the key note speech.
It was amazing seeing him up there in front of the thousands in the audience, and the way he talks about his cancer is always with a hope that things are gonna get better. We're going to find a cure, we're on the right path, we'll get there. He's just awesome, I was so proud watching him speak.

We had our quick team meeting where people shared their last minute mission moments, including a special one from Coach Steve, who was diagnosed with leukemia as a toddler, and one from our social captain Dana, who spoke about her grandmother. She remembered my mission moment from San Diego about Grandpa, and she feels that connection. We got some last minute advice from the coaches, and then it was up to the rooms, and Laura and I were almost immediately in bed (once again at 9:30pm). Now, the night before San Diego I didn't sleep at all. Literally, not for one minute. In Phoenix, I fell asleep pretty quickly and slept pretty damn well, by some miracle of god. I woke up, dare I say it, well rested! Race singlets were on, arms were fully decorated in permanent market, and throw away clothes were layered. We. Were. READY. Laura then said to me "I have a feeling this is gonna be your race, Rach. I can just feel it." I quickly knocked on wood and we headed out.

My Singlet

Sarah, me, and Laura

We took a bunch of race day pics in the lobby of the hotel and then boarded the bus to the start line. The energy on the bus was calm but excited, if that makes any sense. It was the ideal hybrid. We had some time to kill before dropping our bags, so a few of us planted ourselves under this tree next to a parking lot and hung out for a bit while the sun came up. Coach Peter got some amazing pictures.

TNTers pre-race

I'm glad it wasn't a video, because the conversation was about getting Gabby to the portapotty to go #2, and how Michael Conlon had just peed like 15 feet away from us, using his plastic garbage bag poncho as a shield.

Finally we were ready to drop bags and head over, so we followed Michael Conlon, since we do everything he says, anyway. About 10 minutes later we get to the end of a separate portapotty area, and we see no start line. That's right, Michael Conlon led us in the exact opposite direction of where we needed to be! The time was now 7:33am - the gun was set to be at 7:40am. That left us with 7 minutes to get to the start line, get into our corrals, get various belts and gear situated, take our salt, and say a few last minute prayers. I slammed into my corral, weaseled my way over toward the 4:30 pace group, slapped on my belt, and we were off. Only 6,000 people were running the full (24,000 running the half), so there was only a 2 minute wait to get across the start line. I had to salt during mile 1. Oops.

The first 10 miles of the race went by in a blur. We quickly shed our throwaway clothes to the side of the road, since it wasn't super cold out. Boom, mile 1 done. For the next few miles, Danelle, our pace team leader, was fairly chatty, as was this older gentleman who ran with us, so their conversation kept me entertained and distracted. We passed a group of belly dancers at mile 2 who were, well, let's just say NOT in shape, which was also both entertaining and distracting. I was keeping an eye on our pace most of the time - having been a pace group leader all season for 10:30, that feels natural. Danelle should've been running 10:18 miles the entire way through (that's what a 4:30 marathon is, per mile). Danelle, bless her heart, did not run 10:18 miles. She decided we were going to run 10:05s so that we could take a couple walking steps at the water stops. A couple walking steps takes an absolute max of 3 seconds. Therefore, she could've held a 10:15 pace and been just fine keeping us on track. The reason I mention this is that there is a big ass difference between running 10:18s for several hours and running 10:05s for several hours. She should've been clear from the get go that that was the plan.

After about mile 10 a bunch of us were like "Alright, enough of this, let's hang back". I wasn't mentally annoyed or frustrated or anything, I wasn't in pain, and I didn't feel as though I was working too hard, but I didn't want to let it get to that point before I smartened up. Some kind of warning signal went off inside my cerebellum and I wasn't about to ignore it. At the half way point I was at 2:16. If I'd kept up my pacing exactly like that, that would put me at a 4:32 marathon. But, I backed off a little and decided to hold a delightful 10:30 pace, but fully walk the water stations from there on out, so I could conserve energy.  It takes anywhere from 30 seconds to about a minute to walk the water stations, so I knew my overall times would start increasing, but I knew I was having a good race and that walking those stops wasn't going to hurt me too much.

Bliner - Saver from Walls

The first 14 miles were full of long straightaways -and not too many spectators - but I'd managed to keep my shit together from a mental standpoint. Then at mile 15 it was starting to get a little tough, I was starting to question what the hell I was doing, and then like an oasis in the desert, Rachel Bliner appeared on the side of the road to run with me. I told her I was happy to see her, but that I didn't want to talk. So she ran with me in silence for a good chunk, probably almost a mile. It was exactly what I needed - I was about to start approaching a wall, and she saved me from it.

A half mile down the way was coach Ross, who excitedly jumped in with me. The night prior, Ross told us if we didn't feel like chatting with him, we should just let him know. So I said "HEY Ross! I don't want to talk, I just want to run." He ran a silent few steps with me and then said "Alright look for Pam up ahead, doin great!". I didn't mean I didn't want him there, I just meant that I didn't want to have to have a conversation with him. Oh well. I looked for Pam at mile 16. Nada. I thought maybe she's at mile 17. No Pam. I thought about Matt's speech the night before; one point he made was that at some point during the race, you'll hit the moment where you KNOW you're going to finish. It may come at mile 20, it may come 5 steps before the finish line, but it will come - and there's no greater feeling of relief! I get to mile 18 and I check my watch, and that was the moment I knew I was going to go sub 5 no matter what happened during the rest of this race. I was so excited - but I was still Pam-less!

I approached mile 19 and about 50 feet ahead of me I see a sign that says "GO RACH!" and I hear a bunch of screaming midwesterners. It was Laura's family, the Beckloffs, who had waited for me to go by them so they could cheer me on. It warmed my heart that they stayed out there just for me after they'd seen Laura go by. They are so fantastic, and they pumped me up. I hit mile 20 and I did a biiiig exhale. The time on my watch was 3:37. That meant I had an hour and 23 minutes to run the final 10K. My normal 10K time at easy running pace is around 1:03. I had a 20 minute buffer. That meant I could slow my pace considerably, probably stop to use the bathroom, make a phone call, or walk backward, and I'd still get in under 5. I was so damn happy, nothing was gonna kill my smile. I gave up on seeing Pam, and we finally came upon Coach Peter, who ran with my mentee Eunice for a very long time. Eunice and I decided to run our marathon together, but not have to talk to each other, and not have to stay side by side in lockstep the whole way. She'd pull ahead by like 20 feet, then I'd pull ahead the same way. It went this way the entire race. At that point, she was ahead, and Peter was stickin with her. There are reasons for this, none of which I'll mention on this blog so as not to embarrass the involved parties, but I happily followed behind them, sunshine coming straight out my ass. I was the happiest girl out there.

I breezed past coach Michelle, who was smiling and said "Lookin great Rach! Keep it up!" I said "I'm good! See you at the finish!". The early 20s then seemed to crawl. I was walking longer at the water stations, and I could feel the difference in progress - but I was still moving, I was still happy, and I still knew I would hit sub 5.

Then came mile 24 - the only incline in this entire race - and it was a highway overpass. I got halfway up the overpass and I saw my darling, coach Jason, hopping down the ramp to come run with his favorite girl. In San Diego, I was giving Jason the look of death. I couldn't say anything, I just angrily stared at him like I wanted to kill him. I promised him smiles in Phoenix, and I delivered on that promise. I was happy, I was smiling, and I was psyched to see him. I still didn't want to talk, which he was cool with, and we just ran along together for a bit, me enjoying every step. I had less than 2 miles to go now, and I had a sweet downhill coming, and I was owning this race.

The last mile and a half flew by. There was this really stupid band at mile 25.5 and the guy on the microphone kept yellin" Only 1 mile left!!!" Except, math major, we had about a half mile left. His yelling enraged a lot of runners, including one gentleman who was very close to me, who yelled "HEY ASSHOLE! IT'S ONLY A HALF MILE!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" I laughed to myself - you could've told me Sarah Palin was just elected Queen of the World at that moment and I wouldn't have cared, I was high on life.

I rounded those last few twists and turns, and there it was - THE FINISH. I saw a big yellow banner, heard the roar of the crowd, and started bee-lining it. I heard someone screaming my name and I looked to my left and saw my darlings Steve Russolillo and Shelly Banjo yelling "GO RACHEL!!!" I turned to them and screamed "I'M HAVING THE FUCKING RACE OF MY LIFE!!!" and they threw their hands in the air and were like "HELL YEAH!!!". It was awesome. I then dead sprinted for the finish. Kevin Rudolph "Let It Rock" was blasting over the loud speaker. The lyrics are "Because when I arrive I bring the fire, make you come alive" and holy SHIT did I feel alive!!! I threw my fists in the air and then slapped my watch like an asshole - you should never slap your watch right away, as I told all my mentees, because your race finish photo will be of you looking down at your wrist. And yeah, clearly I didn't pay attention to my own advice...

Finish Picture Fail

BUT WHATEVER, BECAUSE I FINISHED IN 4:52!!!!!!!! I have never in my entire life been that proud of myself. I went sub 5, and I actually had a great time during the race. Who AM I?!?!? I took my race photo with my darling Jimmy, checked in with the TNT tent, and celebrated with all my lovies. I could not stop smiling, and could not stop telling people about my race - I'm sure it was THE most annoying thing ever, and I do not care. I earned that celebration. And for me, it's not just about the race or the finish time. I felt like I sufficiently honored Grandpa. In San Diego, the race itself was just god awful. I barely survived it. That wasn't how I wanted to pay tribute to him. In Phoenix, I triumphed. THAT is the tribute that Grandpa deserves.

Jimmy and Me, with our cactus medals

All throughout the race, when it started to feel even the slightest bit difficult, I looked to the sky. At times I even whispered to myself, "Come on Grandpa, stay with me," and each time I felt things start to ease. I don't care if everyone around me was like "Don't run near the weird girl talking to herself..." - it was working. I felt like I was flying, and I have no doubt that my soul was flying on Grandpa's angel wings.

So, after the race we were talking, and my friend Jimmy joked that at mile 18 he would've signed a contract that said he'd never run another marathon- and a couple weeks ago, I would've signed that same contract. Even on race morning I was talking with Michael Conlon, and I told him Phoenix would be my swan song. But, my race went amazingly well, and if all marathons felt like that, I'd keep doing them forever. So.... I'm considering running Chicago this fall. I know, I need to be committed - I seriously can't even believe I just typed that. It's not coached by Michael Conlon, and it involves running through the summer heat, and it's another MARATHON, but... they aren't kidding when people say this crap is addictive. Plus, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society does so much good. It's hard to not want to be a part of that forever. So, tentatively plan on Chicago 2011. And then tentatively plan on the New York Home for the Clinically Insane.

In the mean time, I have some serious THANKS to give, and I wanted to name some special mentions:

1. Abby Karpinski - Abby is my physical therapist, and that woman is a damn miracle worker. I didn't feel my post-tib injury at all during the marathon. And any time I have any type of injury, however mild or obscure, she always knows exactly what it is, and she always fixes it. I don't know how she does it, but she is awesome. She also had me on this rigorous strength training program. Every muscle in the lower half of my body was worked hardcore twice a week; I have the most comprehensive program out of anyone who goes to my PT office, and it paid off big time in Phoenix. I owe so much of my success to her.

2. My Family - My parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins are the most amazing people. We had quite the shit year in 2010. Grandpa was our patriarch, he unified us all, and losing him delivered a blow we were unprepared for. We're all still grieving, still adjusting, still hurting. Almost every single collection of families within our larger family came through with donations and/or well wishes for me for this race, to honor the man we all loved, admired, and revered. Only they can relate to what I've been through this year, and their support means the most to me.

3. My Coaches - We are spoiled rotten by the TNT coaches in NYC. Not all the other chapters get such amazing people who truly know their shit. Every single coach we have is experienced, resourceful, and a genuinely KICKASS person. Michael, Peter, Jason, Pam, Steve, Dari, Ross, Michelle, Christie, Debbie, Bethenny, Doug, and even Parksy, who only made guest appearances this season, you are the best. I don't ever want to run without you guys!!

Then, I have special shout outs for Michael Conlon and Jason Fleischer. I told MC I'd follow him into a pit of fire, as previously mentioned, and I mean it. He has never steered me wrong and I hold him in the highest regard when it comes to the business of marathoning. He is so generous to all of us, opening up his home in New Paltz, organizing really cool runs (like the GWB run and the Triple Bypass), and opening up Finish Line (his physical therapy office) to us all the time for whatever we need. He even lets me run on the Alter G for free, and that bad boy ain't cheap. There's no one else I'd rather learn from than him. And Jason, my darling Jason. At the beginning of the season, I asked Jason to be on my ass during Wednesday night practices. When he was screaming at me while I was racing repeats up Harlem Hill, I wasn't exactly loving him, but it all paid off. I wasn't flying under the radar, he kept me honest and he kept me working. And it paid off tremendously. Right before the Philly half I had a mental freakout, and he gave me the world's best advice and put everything in perspective. He is so wise.

4. Laura Beckloff - My first TNT friend ever (we met day 1 of practice for San Diego!). All season long we leaned on each other for support, comisery, pep talks, and full on freakouts. She was my roomie out in Phoenix, and she and I created the most zen atmosphere ever for the weekend. There was no anxiety, no obligations to do anything, and it was the most low maintenance marathon weekend ever. I don't think that would've happened under any other circumstances. I have no doubt it had huge impacts on my race.

5. Steph Zimmering and Christine Talbot - I met Steph and Christine at their respective info sessions way back in August. They both become very good friends of mine, and their enthusiasm and excitement helped me to remain as enthusiastic and excited as possible throughout the season. Every time I was feeling a little jaded or generally "over it", Christine would be like "Oh my god, I just ran 16 miles!!!!" or Steph would be like "Um, I just kicked the GWB's ass," and it completely reinvigorated me. Their spirit is just awesome, and I think the world of both. They helped make my season what it was.

And most importantly, my Grandpa. He is single handedly the best inspiration there is to do anything - I don't care if it's a hot dog eating contest, if Grandpa inspires you to do it, there is no "I can't", there is no "Eh I don't feel like finishing". Grandpa moves people, he puts them in motion, he gets them to act. And for him, I'd do anything. When I first registered for this season, I had to put down "In Memory of" instead of "In Honor of". That cut me right to the core. I miss him every single day, and I think about him constantly. In all contexts. All. The. Time. He is very much a part of my life. So much of my decision making reflects his influence, his ideals, his thought process - and truthfully a lot of my bigger-picture thinking is very much in line with wanting to be someone he would be proud of. These marathons are my living, breathing tribute to the person that he was. I carry his heart in mine - and I carry it with pride. We always said he was larger than life, and he is proving us right even in death. Much of my world will forever include him.


When I finished my San Diego season, I was addressing Grandpa directly, and I said "Now let's go beat that cancer." While maybe we couldn't physically beat Grandpa's cancer before it took him from us, I think we're still in the process of beating it on the larger scale. So I sincerely thank you for reading this season, I absolutely loved writing, and dare I say, I even loved running. Collectively now, let's all go beat that cancer.

Nothing Left To Do But Run

Here we are. Race weekend is upon us, nervous energy is aplenty, and it's officially go time.

It's amazing how much time, energy, blood, sweat, and tears you spend over an extended period of time for an event that lasts only a few hours. Four-plus months of running, strengthening, stretching, icing, through the heat, through the wind, through the snow, through the ice, through training highs and training lows, through long (seemingly never-ending) runs to sprints to hill repeats. All that hard work, that dedication, that sacrifice, for a few hours' worth of experience - and a painful few hours, at that.

Almost all runners are Type A, or at least have Type A tendencies - we control every possible thing that we can control, and the rest is up to the marathon gods. So, in an effort to help us all out on race day, I've written up a little marathon prayer for all my loves:

Dear marathon gods,

Thank you for blessing us with these vessels through which we take on this monumental endeavor. We know that not everyone is fortunate enough or physically well enough to be able to take part in marathoning, and we realize that this is a privilege to be out there. Please be with us as we take on our 26.2 miles. Help us to be smart, take care of ourselves, and stick to our race plans. Give us the confidence to know that we can do this, and when the race gets tough, smack us in the face with that confidence - and smack us HARD.

Help us to remember that we chose to do this (and some of us even paid a lot of money to do this); this is a choice, this is something we want to do.  Help us to have strong legs, and even stronger heads and hearts. We pray for no leg cramps for Jimmy this time around. When we hit the wall, help us to climb over it, army-barrack style, with no mercy. And when we hit a bad mental space, when we seriously question what the hell we're doing out there, help us to remember that this is about so much more than a marathon. We often joke when we're going for an easier workout that "we're not trying to change the world today." On race day, we ARE actually changing the world. Help us to remember that we are heroes in our own right, and help us keep those we run for at the forefront of our minds.

God bless Grandpa, and all the good he has instilled in me, all the lessons he has taught me, all the gifts he has given me, and help me fulfill my promise to him to never give up. Help me to make him proud. God bless everyone else who we have lost to this insidious disease, help us to feel their spirit with every step, and to feel the spirit of those who continue the fight here on earth.

Help us to remember how many people we have pushing for us - friends, family, co-workers, boyfriends, girlfriends, acquaintances, stalkers, one night stands, classmates. We are no doubt a summation of their love, support, and generosity, both of wallet and of soul. We would not have gotten to the startling line without them. Help us all to make them proud too.

And if you could throw in even the gentlest tailwind, that would be fucking sweet.

Amen.
- Your NYC TNT Marathoners

Happiest Runners on Earth

This weekend was the first event weekend for our season, and it was the Disney marathon and half. A third of our team headed down to Orlando and they were ready to rock! The half marathon is actually held the day before the half, so we got to hear amazing success stories throughout the day yesterday. I'd met this one guy, Justin, at kickoff, and he was so funny. He refers to gu as "glue", and when I asked him what his race goals were he said "To not die during the damn thing." Not only did he get through the race, he ran the entire way AND he did it under 2:30. So. Freakin. Awesome.

Then today it was onto the full marathoners. The race started at 5:35am, so I got my ass up at 6am so I'd be able to track all my babies real time. I got everybody plugged into the website, and then I set the page to refresh every 1 minute - although that was nowhere near frequent enough for me, apparently, because I kept violently hitting the refresh button each time someone approached the next checkpoint. I also had Steph, my TNT love who got injured, giving me updates from the actual finish line down in Orlando. It was quite the morning :)

First through was Nelson, a first time marathoner who lives and breathes TNT. He was so damn excited for this race, and put everything into it. Then was Cat, one of my pace group babies, who is so damn funny and enthusiastic and just an awesome person to have around. She finished just behind Nelson. Then was Wei, another pace group baby, who apparently came through with the world's biggest smile on her face, as did Jen Samson not too far behind her. Then there was Christine, who I just adore. Christine and I met during her TNT info session, which I was volunteering at. Throughout the season we became good buds. She and I met up to do our Tuesday runs every week for the majority of the season. She's a great runner, despite some serious pain in her heels, and she's super positive without being annoying about it. She crossed that finish line crying and smiling with her hands in the air, exactly how a person should finish such a monumental race. I am so proud of her, and so excited that she did it. She had the world's best facebook status update afterward: "Shut the front door. I just RAN A MARATHON!!! it was awesome and I rocked and I'm definitely the coolest person you know!!!"

Then it was all about Wendy. The reason the half marathon is the day prior to the full marathon in Disney is because they have something called the Goofy Challenge, where you run the half marathon Saturday AND the full marathon Sunday, for a total of 39.3 miles - not for the faint of heart. It's certifiably insane - and Wendy did it. Back in September when she announced that she was going to go for it, we all thought she was nuts. Who would want to put themselves through that kind of hell? Plus she'd never run a full marathon before, and it didn't sound like a good idea to try it as part of the Goofy Challenge. But, Wendy has this indomitable spirit, she decided she was going to go for it, and she tore that shit UP - Minnie Mouse costume and all :) Out. Of. Control. What an amazing chick.

I'm so proud and psyched to welcome all my TNT lovies into the "I survived a marathon" club, and I am sufficiently inspired and excited for my own race next week.

Cat

Christine

Jen

Nelson

Wei

Wendy

The Symbolism of the Phoenix

So this season, TNT offered 3 races: Disney, Phoenix, and Miami. The reason I initially chose Phoenix actually goes back to San Diego. James and I took the same flight back to NY, and as we headed from the gate to the cab line at JFK, James said his next race was going to be Phoenix. So, power of suggestion: boom - registered for Phoenix.

Over the months, and especially through the events of last summer, I started to realize that the symbolism of Phoenix is actually pretty powerful in my life. Back in the late 60s, my Grandpa, along with my Grandma and some of their friends, were growing dissatisfied with the direction the Catholic church was heading in. So, to address their concerns and needs, they started something called the Floating Parish. It was a contemporary idiom for religious celebration - any and all religions were welcome, families were welcome, there were no rules or restrictions, there were no rigid forms or customs, no formal agenda; it was an open exchange of ideas. They just wanted a place to share in religious celebration with anyone who wanted to join. It was a pretty progressive thing, especially at the time, but that was always Grandpa's way.

Around that same time there was also a place in Worcester called the Phoenix, where all were welcome to come have free and peaceful exchanges of ideas (religious, political, or otherwise). To honor that camaraderie, the symbol that they chose for the Floating Parish was that of a Phoenix. The logo itself was actually originally designed by a great friend of the family, whose last name I unfortunately can't spell, but it's something like Stecynski.

For those unfamiliar, a phoenix is a mythical bird who lives to be a thousand years old, and then upon its death it bursts into flames and is reborn. It's a symbol of immortality, of everlasting. And that symbol is what Grandpa wanted to be painted on his coffin.

In my family, the boys build the coffin for their father. My Grandpa built his father's coffin, and my uncles built my Grandpa's coffin. It was beautifully done - they're all architects and builders, so it was in their wheelhouse. Uncle John did the actual building, and the others had a hand in design or other touches. We stored it in the basement at Grandpa's house in the early summer, and he saw it and approved the design and finished product. I realize that sounds weird, but it was important to him that he had input for his final resting place. It was also important for him to retain control of the things he could, because he had no control over the disease and what was happening to his body. The finished product was very Grandpa - natural wood, beautiful finish, nautical handles purchased on the Cape, and the Phoenix painted on the lid.

So, I share this with you not to be morbid or weird, but to show how it all comes together. Some may think this is merely a matter of coincidence, but I believe it's another example of how intrinsically connected Grandpa and I are, and forever will be.

Happy Little Run

Tonight was the most surprisingly delightful run ever. The delight came out of nowhere, like a ninja in the dead of night. We were scheduled to do a tempo run tonight, but with the injury I'm trying to take it easy until race day so I get to that start line as healthy as humanly possible. I knew I'd be doing an easy run, but I wasn't sure how far I was going to make it, or how much pain I was going to be in.

Rachel Bliner, who I ran a bunch of Wednesday GTSs with back in the fall before she got injured, was there and she also wanted to run easy. Typically Rachel + Rachel is an amazing formula for success, and tonight that rang truer than ever. We had the best time tooling around Central Park, gossiping about pretty much everything. Some guy was running about 15 feet behind us the whole way - he probably has enough info on us to steal our identities or at the very least severely blackmail us, should he desire. But, no matter - it was awesome to catch up with her, and awesome to run with her again. I'm hoping once she's slightly more healed we'll be able to train for a half together. I'm thinking Brooklyn half in May fo sho. I'm already registered for Nations half in March (suck on that, NYC half!) which I'm training for with my friend Dom, but I think that's too soon for Rachel's injury.

I'm rambling. Bottom line, tonight rocked, Rachel B rocks, and I'm actually feeling pretty damn excited to run this race. PHOENIX WATCH YO BACK!!!

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.