7 Years Ago Today

7 years ago today we lost Judy to breast cancer. She was 54 years old.

Judy was my step grandmother, which is odd to say (or type?) out loud because she was always just Judy, not "my step grandma Judy". She and Grandpa Gary (my dad's dad) got married before I was born, so I knew Judy the same as I knew all my other grandparents. The "step" never mattered, and to me she will always be blood.

She was really really cool. She was younger than the rest of my grandparents and she could relate to us in a different way. She loved the beach - any time I see seashells or stained glass fish or shark's teeth I always think of her. I have the best memories of her sorting through shells and rocks down on the beach in Florida, helping us to find the shark's teeth among all the other stuff. I also remember this stained glass fish thing she had on a glass sliding door at their old house on Kim Ave in Port Charlotte, so you wouldn't accidentally run right into it. I also remember playing croquet in their backyard when they lived in the blue house on Burncoat St in Worcester, and how they had this outdoor square clothesline thing. And they always had the coolest couches - they had this big black sectional and for whatever reason I thought was just the coolest thing ever. Whenever I see sectionals, I always think of her.

Her nails were always done, she was sarcastic and funny as hell, and I miss her all the time. I miss her especially today. Miles for Judy this weekend.

Life After Cancer

One of our TNT coordinators sent us this link today: http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/04/08/health/cancer-survivor-photos.html#/all/ It's a story about cancer survivors, some of whom are currently undergoing treatment, others are in remission, and all are inspiring.

Today I also unfortunately have some sad news to share. Amanda, who has been one of my best friends since we were 14, lost her uncle to an inoperable brain tumor. Amanda, I love you, and my heart aches for you.

Prayers for Unc tonight, miles for Unc tomorrow, love for Amanda always.

And I love my Grandpa. I really really love my Grandpa.

Triple Bypass

Hi all -

Yesterday we did the infamous 3-bridge run, which evidently is also known as the Triple Bypass by some NY runners. We ran from my coach's PT office down the West Side Highway, then over the Brooklyn bridge to Brooklyn, over the Manhattan bridge (to Manhattan), then over the Williamsburg bridge (to Brooklyn), then turned around at the end of the Williamsburg bridge and ran it again back to Manhattan. We then ran up the east side and back to the PT office. Have you ever run a massive New York City bridge? Yeah, try doing it 4 times in one long run. This did not feel good, I'll tell you that right now. I just had a really crappy run. The bridges were hard (so much for "no more hills"), my pace group was running ahead of pace, my breathing wasn't awesome, my legs hurt after Brooklyn, and I had a lot on my mind. It just wasn't a good run for me.

I quickly took my ice bath and jumped in my rental car to head up to MA to celebrate Grandpa's birthday though, so that was great to look forward to. Ordinarily this would've been time for chemo round 3, but Grandpa has opted to discontinue the chemo treatment for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately for the past month the poison has left him with "about as much energy as a wet dish rag", and it has completed depleted his quality of life. That's not what I want for him - that's not what anyone wants for him - and I completely support his decision. We want him to be able to enjoy his life and do the things he wants to do. Plus Grandpa is an extrovert in the truest sense of the word. He feeds off being around other people, and he needs that social interaction. He hasn't had the energy to correspond with friends and family, or do most of the things that he loves. I know how frustrating that must be. I wish the chemo didn't make him feel so badly... though while I'm wishing for things, I really wish he didn't have cancer.

So I made it up to MA through a boatload of traffic, and I got to spend a few precious hours with him. He didn't seem like himself at all. He was really exhausted, and while he'd get a few zingers in there and he needled me a tiny bit about my personal life, that's not Grandpa. Grandpa interacts with everyone and everything, needing to know the intimate details of your personal life (even if you've only just met), and he's not stopping with the interrogation until he gets the info he wants. He does it in such an endearing way that perfect strangers offer up the most personal details without thinking twice about it. It's indescribable how he interacts with people. I'm constantly in awe of it.

Grandpa wasn't able to interact as much, and he was clearly very run down. It was hard to see him like that. I was hoping he would be able to feed off my energy a little bit, but I don't know how successful I was. All I want to do is be there for him and do anything I can - most of it's little stuff, like bringing him fluids to keep him hydrated, or helping Grandma with some housework, but I wish I could do something bigger to help him feel better. I did tell him that he has an entire army of supporters who are wanting him to do well - I said he has an entire team behind him, he's not going it alone, and we all want him to feel good. That seemed to help marginally.

Around 9:30 Grandpa went to bed. Since I have been alive, I have never once heard him say that he had to get to bed. Our family gatherings often start early afternoon and go late into the night, and he's always been up and active for the entire time. These are different times now. He was completely worn out and needed to sleep. I hope today he was re-energized having been around so much family, and I hope tomorrow is better than today, and the next day better than tomorrow. That may be all we can do at this point - hope, hope, hope.

Our coach was telling us we'd be pretty sore today, after the ridiculous run yesterday, but honestly the most sore part of my body isn't my legs - it's my heart. It feels like I could use a triple bypass.

Birthday, Earth Day, Another Way

So I am working remotely this week because my flight was hideously expensive, which means I got to go to Wednesday night practice!! I was so happy and excited. Then we got Coach Mike's email that this week's practice was going to be "Up and overs" - aka run hard up a hill, run hard down the other side of the hill, then turn around and do it again - and I thought "speedwork would've been much easier..." :)

We used Harlem Hill for this workout, so it was extra tough, and as we ran the mile and a half warm up we were all strategizing about how we were going to get through it sans vomiting. It had been raining so it was gray and humid as hell and we were all pretty sweaty after just a mile and a half - this did not bode well... We started the work out, and it was pretty bad. I was breathing pretty hard, cursing my coaches every time I turned that stupid corner and saw MORE HILL ahead of me, but we all survived, thank god. AND, that was our last hill workout of the season!! This is partially exciting, because if I never see a hill again it'll be too soon, but partially frightening because that means we are getting damn close to the all-important race day. Dun dun DUN....

Today is also a very important day - even more so than race day. Today is Grandpa's 86th birthday!!! (As an early birthday present, he bought himself an iPhone last week. How bad ass is that?!) It's also Earth Day, which is very fitting because Grandpa has long been a champion for environmental issues. His progress in fighting the AML has been pretty good with the chemo treatments, but unfortunately this past month he hasn't been feeling super awesome. The chemo really takes a toll on the body and his kidneys are not doing great. I wish there were another way to treat the cancer without making him feel so bad. I'd give anything for him to be able to enjoy this time in his life, to just relax and do whatever makes him happy, rather than dealing with medication schedules, phosphorus and potassium concentration levels in food, weighing himself every day, weekly blood draws, weekly 6+ hour blood transfusions, 5 day hospital stays every month, and on top of all that, feeling like crap. It's frustrating and it's unfair that someone so awesome has to deal with something so awful.

Instead of whining about it (previous paragraph aside), I am once again trying to channel that energy into something positive. When Grandpa got the diagnosis, my 'something positive' was joining Team in Training. Today, in honor of Grandpa, I ask everyone here to do something positive for the earth. Get a Brita instead of drinking bottled water, recycle everything you can, plant a tree, turn off all the lights if you're not in the room, open the window instead of using AC, leave the car at home and ride your bike, bring your own reusable bag to the grocery store, or if you're feeling super awesome, do all of the above!!! If I've learned anything from the past few months, it's that one person can make a difference, so I hope today you'll all at least try.

Happiest of birthdays to you Grandpa, you are truly the best of the best <3

In A Glass Case of Emotion!!!

BAHHHHHHHHHH.

OK. Sorry. Just had to get that out. Lots on my mind today! Yesterday was a bit of an emotional day. I boarded a 6:55am train to get to Boston to cheer Nicole on in the marathon. Growing up in Massachusetts, I have the fondest memories of watching the race on TV every year, and then as a college student boozing my way through the race. Such good times :)

This year the marathon meant something different, because a) I'm getting ready to run my first, and b) Nicole had qualified, and I was going to cheer her on! I was stone cold sober, which is interesting when you're surrounded by gajillions of college students who have been boozing hard since about 8am... but anyway, I got into Boston and made my way over to Heartbreak Hill, with my "WHERE'S GAIN?" sign, prepped and ready to get her ass up that hill (she ran the race dressed as Where's Waldo - that's a helpful tidbit to understand the sign). While I waited for her to get there, I cheered on the other runners, as I am forever a cheerleader. I was yelling things like "Lookin strong after 20+ miles!!", or "You've made it this far, don't give up now!", or "This is the LAST big hill, you can do it!!". Some runners were thanking me for being there, others really liked my sign, though I'm not convinced they understood what it meant, and others were pissed off at that point, saying things like "Oh really? The last big fucking hill? Cuz we haven't climbed enough goddamn hills already!!". Their anger and frustration was a reality check that I might feel that way during my race. I could also physically feel their exhaustion, anger, frustration, their wanting to give up. A lot of other runners were injured, barely hobbling along, wincing with every step. I can't imagine having worked that hard for that long, to get injured and not be able to run like you want to. I just can't imagine the disappointment and sadness that comes along with that. It was intense.

I then saw Team Hoyt approach, and THAT was an intense experience too. Dick Hoyt has been pushing his son Rick through marathons and triathlons for years and years, and he does it faster than the majority of the runners out there. Simply put, the man is BANANAS, and if he and his son don't inspire you, I don't know what will.

Shortly after seeing the Hoyts, Nicole made her way past Grant Ave and finally I saw this red and white hat bobbing up and down and THERE SHE WAS!!! That moment is always so fun! We hugged, took some pictures, and then I ran with her up to the crest of Heartbreak, carrying my sign, cheering her on, and talking her through the hill. I felt a really strong connection with her in that moment. She has been such an amazing friend to me throughout this whole process - incredibly supportive, she's made everything so much easier on me - so it was really great to be able to experience part of that magical race with her, however brief it may have been.

Post-race we headed down to Lansdowne (via PediCab, no less!), where we sat outside at the Lansdowne Pub and I had my first Sam Summer of the year. Again, being from Massachusetts, this is a very important moment every spring, right up there with Opening Day. It felt WONDERFUL, and it also made me very nostalgic for Beantown. A few beers and a tequila shot later, it was time to say goodbye, and I headed to catch my 9:30pm train back to NY. It was a long day, a great day, and a day filled with emotion-overload for sure.

Then, there is today. Today I learned some interesting information about a situation that transpired last fall. I won't divulge the details, but I'll just say that someone was less than honest with me, and that person is an idiot. Despite my best efforts, I've been over analyzing since learning that tid bit, and I cannot WAIT to run it off tomorrow. We're doing up and overs - aka sprint up a bitch of a hill, sprint down the other side of the bitch of a hill, then turn around and do it again, and keep repeating it until you feel like you might die. That should be sufficient to clear my head, and if not, a few post-practice brews should do the trick :)

...And Big Victories

Ladies and gentlemen,

This morning I ran 14 miles for Grandpa. For you math majors, that means I am more than halfway to marathon distance. OH. MY. GOD.

We ran the upper 5 mile loop of the park (with the dreaded Harlem Hill), then we ran the lower 5 mile loop, and then we did the middle 4 mile loop to finish it off. That means we ran Cat Hill 3 times, and I must say we kicked that hill's ass from here to Sunday. We started off in our pace groups, and we ran the first 5 together, but then Audrey and I split off and did our own thing for the remaining 9. Some days you feel like running with the group, and some days you just need to break off and run what feels good.

Once again, Nicole sent me an amazing quote that totally applies to the Team in Training experience. "Do not underestimate the intimacy of running, and the people with whom you share your miles." You talk about all kinds of things on these long runs - from nutrition, to training, to gu vs. shot blocks vs. beans, to fuel belts, to sports bras, to body glide, to what kind of underwear to wear (and believe me, that's a tricky one!) - but a lot of the time it's not just running related. You really get to know people on the runs, and you share a lot of intimate thoughts. I don't know if it's the endorphins, or if we just have a general understanding of one another because of this shared experience, or what it is exactly, but I inherently trust these people, and they trust me. It's the most non-intimidating environment I've ever been in. It's such a nice outlet for a lot of crap that's on your mind! You build these significant relationships over the miles and it just feels nice.

Anyway, Audrey and I talked for 2 and a half hours today during our and it was great! She ran the NYC half last year, so her previous longest run was 13.1. Every week I celebrate covering my longest distance ever, so I know that feeling well. We ran those last few seconds up to the steps at Bethesda Fountain and celebrated with a big hug and a few discrete tears. 14 miles is such a huge accomplishment for me, and to share it with someone was very cool.

I keep talking about how important the team aspect of this is, and I think everyone needs a team behind them at some point. One of the very important teams I consider myself apart of is Team Erin. Erin is a friend of Nicole's from North Carolina, who I was introduced to a few years ago during a very rowdy weekend in Beantown. Erin is a recent thyroid cancer survivor, and if I do say so myself, she kicked the shit out of that cancer. She is one of my very important personal honorees, so I want to shout out a huge THANK YOU to Erin for being such an inspiration!!!

Erin at her finest

Small Victories

Throughout Grandpa's cancer treatments, we're going to have small victories. Days where he doesn't feel tired at all, news that the blast counts are down, steady creatanine levels, solid hematocrit counts, solid platelet counts, no fevers, etc. In my marathon training it's very similar - first crossing into double digit miles, first negative split, doing an extra rep on the hills, cutting 10 seconds off quarter mile sprints, forcing myself to do planks, etc.

Today I had a very very small (and yet significant to me) victory. Everyone who gets involved with Team in Training is undoubtedly doing this to save lives - that is a given. But there are some other reasons to participate as well: things like being part of a team, meeting new people, and getting in quite possibly the best shape of your life are very enticing aspects of the program. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to take advantage of all the training to shape up a little bit. I've always been a pretty active person, but I haven't felt as fit as I was in high school since pretty much graduation day. We had cheerleading practice 5 days a week for 3 hours a day, and during tournament season 6 or 7 days a week, plus we had tumbling classes, plus I swam, etc. I strolled around with all my fellow cheerleaders in tight little t-shirts and our infamous very short soffe shorts that said "Cheerleader" or "NCA" on the right 'leg' (and by 'leg' I mean like 2 inches of fabric).

Since high school, I can count the number of times I've worn shorts in public on one hand. I have just not wanted to have my legs on display to the world. I really really hate my knees especially, and while in high school it was cute to be short, in the real world, not so much. If I could stretch my legs out even just 2 inches, I'd hit that elusive 5' 4" mark. Sigh...

But I digress. A couple weeks ago I was at Jack Rabbit in union square and I saw this super cute pairs of Brooks shorts. I tried them on and I thought I didn't look heinous, so I bought them, and I've had them on display on my dresser ever since. I'd wear them around my room, not really wanting to launch them on the general public yet, not entirely comfortable with the way I looked in them. Well today, I decided to just say "Fuck it." I put on the shorts and I went to the gym to do my strength training, since my physical therapist is on vacation. When I say 'gym' I mean the gym inside my building, where my audience was limited to an old Asian lady and what I can only assume was a vapid college frat boy, BUT STILL. I made it out the front door of my apartment in shorts. Small victory.