Run to Remember

On Sunday, I will be running a half-marathon in Boston – the 9th annual “Run to Remember” organized by members of the Boston Police Department. It is organized as a tribute to fallen officers and raises funds for community and kids programs run by the BPD Running Club. My oldest, M and I will also be volunteering at the pre-race Expo on Saturday. It is our first time volunteering at a race, and I cannot think of a more deserving one.

Not surprisingly, the race has sold out.  I’m glad that I registered early, because the race quickly sold out after the bombings at the Boston Marathon. I’m thrilled that so many people are running to show their support, though I of course remain devastated by the events that triggered the quick sell-out.

From the organizers’ website:

As many of you are commenting in the tremendous number of emails we are receiving – This race may be the perfect opportunity to pay tribute to the many thousands of first responders, volunteers and marathon organizers who ran towards danger to help others and have continued to do so.

We are receiving emails from across the country with support and even from our troops in Afghanistan who want to run a half marathon on the same day and time as our race – and tweet their results in to us as a sign of solidarity and support for Boston.

This is a testament to our city, to the first responders and to the volunteers who continue to make a difference at this time. Our thoughts and prayers continue to be with the victims, all first responders, the volunteers and organizers of the Boston Marathon and all families impacted…Together we are – “Boston Strong”

I love that people all over the world are supporting this – especially the troops in Afghanistan who face their own dangers every day. Amazing.

The race will undoubtedly be an emotional one for me.  Boston will always be my home, regardless of where my mailing address happens to be, and this will be my first time in Boston after the marathon bombings.  The race route passes only a few blocks from the Boston Marathon finish line. And I can only imagine what poignant tribute the police officers have put together to kick off the event. I’m sure I will be a bawling mess at the start, at the finish and probably at several points in between. Re-reading Colby’s experience in Big Sur, I’m thinking that this may be the first race where I pack tissues along with my Sportsbeans.

I really can’t wrap my mind around all that first responders have had to deal with just in recent years, between terrorist attacks, mass shootings, multiple natural disasters and the “normal” accidents, tragedies and crimes that happen on a daily basis. I get anxious and overwhelmed just thinking about it, and I don’t even have to be on the front lines for these tragedies. It is truly mind boggling, and my heart aches for anyone who has given the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty.

First responders everywhere – I know I speak for many when I say that even if we only get a chance to “run to remember” once a year, we never forget what you do for us each and every day. Thank You.

Reunited (And it Feels So Good)

You know how sometimes you start to get ready for a run and procrastinate? You don’t really feel like going, but feel like you should. But you really don’t want to. It’s cold, it’s hot, you’re tired, you’re busy, you want more coffee, you drank too much coffee, you want to check more stuff out on Pinterest…yeah, you really don’t want to, at least not until you get out there, and then, of course, it feels so good that you can’t believe you ever procrastinated in the first place.

Well, I say there is nothing like NOT being able to run for almost a week to put a little spring in your step as you get ready for a run. No procrastinating here! It’s like getting ready for a reunion with an old friend. Can’t get ready fast enough.

That was me this morning. Woke up and I was good to go for my first run since last Monday morning. Hello running sneaks!!!  Yippee! Nothing against cycling – I love it - but after 3 straight days of cycling, I was more than ready to lace up and go for a run.

And as much as I love (love!) cycling, running will always be first for me. Nothing I have ever done athletically can beat the feeling of taking off on my own feet. When I run, it all comes down to me - my mind and my body. No accessories or gear, no coasting, no brakes, chains or other mechanics to worry about.  I just gotta fire up my own internal engine and go.

So this morning, I did. And it was great. And tomorrow? Will be even better.

Ups and Downs

Not much running this week due to some medical drama, but of course that doesn’t mean I have nothing to talk about. Sadly for my poor husband, my mouth still works just fine.

And what a rollercoaster of a week it was.

I started off my week with a biopsy on Monday morning. Yeah…the dreaded “B” word that you always hope (pray, beg, plead) will at least not be followed with the dreaded “C” diagnosis. After a few difficult days, I was incredibly lucky to learn that my biopsy had a great – “clean,” “negative,” benign” – whatever heavenly word you want to assign to it – result. Phew. Big exhale. Bullet dodged, crisis averted, time to hit the reset button and return to life as usual. Minus the running. Not quite yet.

I, of course, learned a few things (or in some cases, was reminded of things I already knew) while I was sitting around fretting and not running:

1. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. While facing the prospect of a cancer diagnosis, I mostly focused on the fact that I would have to cancel a few of my upcoming races and tried to sort out (bolstered with multiple google searches on exercising during cancer treatment) which ones I thought I could still squeeze in, which ones were maybes and which were off the table. Because, you know, when a woman with a loving family and dear friends is faced with a serious illness, the most important thing is getting the spring and summer racing schedule in order. It’s refreshing to know that Scarlett O’Hara lives on inside of me and if a real crisis ever hits, I’ll be able to live in happy denial for at least a little while.

2. My family is awesome. My friends are amazing. They make the Steel Magnolias look like a bunch of self-absorbed weaklings.

3. It’s tough to be positive when you become a “patient.” I felt much more upbeat about the whole situation until I arrived at the medical center for my biopsy. Then it became apparent to me that all of the lovely – and they were truly lovely – people there were treating me with kid gloves because they saw me as a potential cancer patient. Eek. That scared the ever loving shit out of me. I haven’t received that many sympathetic looks since I was pregnant and managed to dump the entire contents of my briefcase on a train platform at Grand Central Station in 2001. I don’t do well being on the receiving end of a pitying look. When someone else sees you as a patient, it is hard for you to feel strong. Or positive. I need to remember this the next time someone I know is ill.

4. I cannot take my health for granted. I am so lucky to be able to run, cycle, ski, spin, and do all of the other active things that I like to do. Even if I take the best care of myself possible, stuff happens, and something beyond my control could take away my ability to be active when I least expect it. I always enjoy exercising, and definitely enjoy “the moment” when I am running and cycling, but I don’t think I properly appreciate how lucky I am simply to be able to do those things. Well, at least I didn’t. I sure do now.

5. I’m crabby when I can’t get out and do something active on a beautiful day. Tuesday and Wednesday, two of the most beautiful days weather-wise of the year, were tough on my psyche, especially since I didn’t even feel up to taking a walk. I haven’t returned to running yet, but was able to ride these past 2 days, and oh, what bliss! Blue skies, warm breeze and an open road. Heaven. But I still can’t wait until I can run again. Maybe Sunday. Maybe Monday. Not a moment too soon, whenever it may be. My Glycerin 9’s look sad and lonely.

6. When it comes to your life, “uneventful” is not synonymous with “boring.” If you have good family, good friends and good health, that’s more than anyone can hope for. Excitement is overrated and the next time I feel bored, I’m going to revel in it. And maybe throw a party.

Have a happy, healthy weekend everyone!

Holy social media. We’re on Facebook…

It’s a big day for It’s a Marathon AND a Sprint.

Ready?

We have our very own Facebook page! (I know, I know, Welcome to 2013.) Considering one of us still has her yellow Waterproof Sony Walkman (cough, Tina, cough, cough) this was no small feat. Should our widget, plugin or whatever the hell it’s called, work, our blog posts should wind up directly on there. Honestly, I’m holding my breath. I figured out the whole thing after 3 glasses of wine so if the Facebook Page is that of a small French winery featuring white Bordeaux, my apologies. You can also find tips, quips, inspiration and random one offs conducive to a Blogger with Blogger’s Block (Uh yeah, Colby).

It will be fun.
Like us. (I mean hit the damn “Like” button .)
And share away!

Chia Seeds and Cherry Juice May Be Superfoods, But…

Nectar of the Gods

I gotta say, I just washed down a bag of Trader Joe’s Dark Chocolate Tahitian Caramels with a bottle of Classic Coke (I recognize that this is truly disgusting to anyone over the age of 12 who is not me, but trust me, it’s that kind of day) and although I shudder to think of how I will feel in a few hours, right now I’m pretty sure I have enough energy to fuel an Airbus A380.

Not recommended as a daily diet, but sometimes, it just has to be done. Colby, I assume you will be by to hold my hand and put a washcloth to my head when the withdrawals set in?  Probably around 6:00?

Liebster Award!

So check us out.  We just found out we were nominated for the Liebster Award! Imagine? And to think, our little blog….She’s growin’ up!  Fantastic. Icing on Monday’s cake!  (And who doesn’t like icing? I mean really.)  A huge thank you and shout out to runs4treats. (She’s a girl who likes icing!) Run.Bake.Eat.Repeat? Love it. Girl after our own heart. Check her out. She does a really nice job with her blog. Thank you! Thank you!

So the Leibster Award, here’s the scoop:

• Thank the person that nominated you
• Answer the 11 questions from the nominator
• Nominate 11 new bloggers
• Ask 11 Questions to the nominated recipients

Our Answers:
1. What is your favorite guilty pleasure?

Tina:  I don’t watch much TV. Can’t remember the last time I watched a network drama or sitcom. But if I ever turn that sucker on, it will almost certainly be to whichever “Real Housewives” franchise that Bravo is peddling at the moment. Horrible, phony, overly dramatic, ridiculous.  But soooo entertaining.

Colby: Reading absolute TRASH magazines.  Us Weekly.  Hello!  Star. Garbage.  And I LOVE it.  Why? Because when much of what you read every day is in a peer reviewed scientific journal, you’ll give your eye teeth for gossip rags.

2.  Where is your favorite place you have traveled?

Tina: Hawaii. Not only is it a beautiful place, but I went there on my honeymoon almost 17 years ago. It was a wonderful vacation, and Hawaii marks such a special time in my life that it would be hard to top it!

Colby: Greece.  Specifically Oia, Santorini.  Takes my breath away.  Even now when I think about it. Makes me smile and tear up at the same time. The light is just so different there.  Amazing place.

3.  What’s your favorite healthy snack?

Tina: Almonds.

Colby: Blueberries.  Pints of ‘em.  Call me Violet Beauregarde.

4.  What is on the top of your bucket list?

Tina: Running the Boston Marathon. Grew up in Boston and have cheered from the sidelines for as long as I can remember. I’ve been ambivalent about running a marathon for years (decades?). But now that I’m tackling my first marathon later this year, running the “Grandaddy of them All” has moved to the top of my bucket list.

Colby: African Safari.  No doubt.  When I was little I used to pretend to be animals. Like lie on the floor quietly then lunge at someone unsuspecting, scaring the snot out of them. (What on earth are you doing? I’m a hippopotamus!)  There was this other incident where I pecked on the dash board while riding with my mother (I’m a bird! No you’re not! You’re a little girl!!!!  My poor mother…) but I digress. Great Wall marathon is creeping up there too if we’re talking Running Bucket List.

5.  What is your favorite color?

Tina: Blue. All shades, but periwinkle is probably tops.

Colby: Black. Always chic. Forever slimming. Wait. Is leopard a color?

6.  Do you have a tattoo?  If so, what and where?  If not, have you ever wanted one?

Tina: No and No.

Colby: Nope. Zilch.  However I do have a pretty phat scar on my right ankle that is my pseudo-tattoo. It’s bad ass.

7.  Beach or Mountains or can you just not decide?

Tina: Beach. Love mountains, but adore the beach. I don’t think I could ever happily live somewhere that was not near the ocean.

Colby: Beach. Nothing like the salty sea air. The sound is ever better.

8.  Do you have a pet?

Tina: No. Unless you count the assorted creatures (fish, salamanders, newts, frogs, butterflies, dragonflies) that my kids catch in our yard and creek and then bring inside for a temporary stay in our mudroom.  They rotate frequently, though, so never quite reach “pet” status.

Colby: Sure do!  Two little demons. Leon James, a handsome pitbull-shar-pei-lab-god-only-knows mix. He’s my love. Best face ever. And silly ears that fold over in all the wrong places. I love him.  And, not to be outdone, Pearl Anne Marie.  She’s The Evil Beagle.  Actually she’s not evil at all.  She’s hysterical. She’s a former laboratory beagle that I sprung.  Rescuing her was one of the best things I have ever done.  She’s a character. And a Lady Bug. Silly, sweet Beage.  She’s the happiest dog on earth.

9.  What piece of technology could you not do without?

Tina: I guess my smartphone, since it pulls in phone, e-mail, internet and texting.  Talk about one-stop shopping. I’m so used to being able to get in touch with people wherever I am, don’t know how I could do without it!

Colby: iPhone 5. Period.

10.  What is your favorite book?

Tina: Tie between Charlotte’s Web and Little Women. Nothing I have read as an adult tops the way those made me feel when I was a kid.

Colby: She’s Come Undone, Wally Lamb.

11.  Why do you blog?

Tina: Hmmmm…I have always loved to write and wanted an outlet for doing it on a regular basis. After Colby and I started running races together last year, I realized how much I enjoyed the whole “experience” of doing them, and of training. I wanted a way to write it all down and keep a record of the memories and feelings – and hysterical moments. I also thought it would be a great way for Colby and I to stay connected with our training and racing and share our ups, downs and war stories (as if we didn’t already talk, e-mail and text ALL THE TIME).

Colby: What Tina said!

Our Liebster Award Nominees:

1.Shh…Fit happens. http://shhfithappens.wordpress.com/

2. Fit Girl .Healthy Girl. http://fitgirlhappygirl.com/

3. A Fast Paced Life. http://afastpacedlife.wordpress.com/

4. Super Generic Girl. http://supergenericgirl.com/

5. Run, Beer and Girly Things. http://girlybeerrunner.wordpress.com/

6. I Tick When I Run http://itickwhenirun.com/

7. The Mile Report  http://themilereport.wordpress.com/

8. Spin Run Sew http://spinrunsew.com/

9. The Final Forty http://thefinalforty.wordpress.com/

10. All Seasons Cyclist http://allseasonscyclist.com/

11. The Next Finish Line http://www.thenextfinishline.com/

And now, in the name of Liebster, Our 11 Questions for You:

1. If you could have one super power what would it be?

2. Would you rather have free Starbucks for life or free iTunes?

3. What is your earliest memory?

4. What has made you laugh the hardest?

5. If you could have lunch with one person, living or dead who would it be?

6. What is your biggest disappointment?

7. Top 3 Favorite Cereals. Go!

8. What song would play during the opening credits of Your Life, The Movie?

9. If you were a dog, what breed would you be?

10. What is your favorite movie line of all time?

11. What is your favorite blog post you’ve written?

Gird Your Loins. They’re coming.

I took my time rolling out of bed yesterday and padded around in my jammies for a bit before I headed out for my Sunday Runday. Besides, it was pouring out and now that I’m in Marathon Recovery Run mode, rushing out to run in a monsoon is no longer a part of my vocabulary. At least not this week. (Oh I’ve been running, but not like my pants are on fire.) So, 5 cups of coffee later, I decided it was time to harness my “energy” and hit the road. (Either that or I was going to have a seizure.)

A beautiful thing happened in these parts the past two weeks- LEAVES! GREEN! FLOWERS! It’s erupted. Spring is all up in here. It’s sprung alright. I love it. I swear I look around all wide-eyed like I’ve never seen trees before. It amazes me time and time again.

Side Note: I solemnly swear that I will not bitch about the heat in the upcoming summer months. Only- and ONLY- if it gets in the triple digits with 98% humidity. Then I’ll grumble. After the bullshit winter we had in the North East, a little heat is WELCOME. I’m rolling out the red carpet for it. Come on Summer! If you hear any New Englander bitch about running in the heat, punch them. Either in the teeth or kidney. Your choice.

With super-duper, green, warm rainy mornings come bugs. Buzzy bugs. That zip around your sweaty head. So there I am, all happy, Lululemon Groovy Run Short, Newton Gravity’s and a nice high pony tail. Ahh. Spring. I’m zipping along fueled by a gallon of dark roast. Nothing better. Until…

It hits me.

In the eye.

I am momentarily blinded. I freak out. BUG IN MY EYE! BUG IN MY EYE! BUG IN MY EYE! It’s wedged. In the corner. I stomp my feet. I take out my contact lens. I do the Harlem Shake. I can’t get it out. It’s laying eggs in my retina.

WHAT THE FUCK.

Nothing like ruining a run and a caffeine buzz because you’re momentarily blinded by a filthy little black fly. (And then proceed to have an anxiety attack because you can’t get it out fast enough.) I hate eyes. They freak me out. I dissected a sheep’s eye in high school biology once and the aqueous humor that oozed out scarred me for life. (Thanks Sr. Veronica.) I managed to get the vector out in one piece. And return my gnarly contact lens without scratching my cornea.

I head off on my way, itchy but not thwarted. I cannot, however, stop blinking. Four more pretty green miles pass without incident. It turned out to be a beautiful day after all. Damn bugs. Trying to ruin my Runday. I run on along around a lake. Life is good. Until…

It dawns on me.

The cicadas are coming.

Speaking of eyes…(Photo: Chris Simon, University of Connecticut via AP)

Brood II. Swarmageddon. Zombie Cicadapocalypse. The 17 Year Emergence. Call it what you want. They are well on their way. Billions of them. Marching right up I-95. Slowly. Brace yourself, East Coast. They’re back. These babies have been hanging out for 17 years under ground waiting patiently. When the temperature of the soil reaches precisely 64 degrees, they’ll crawl out of the earth like zombies in the Thriller video, hang out, dry out, get hard and scrump, leaving their discarded skins like used condoms strewn about your yard on prom night. Nature’s Porn. In the meantime, we’ll be deafened from their 92 decibel mating song and grossed out by their mere presence. (Ugh. I need a Xanax.)

If I’m freaking out about a teeny tiny black fly in my eye, what in the name of all that is holy will I do when I get pelted by a Nerf football sized cicada? (Ok maybe that’s overstating. They’re smaller. But not much.) I’ll tell you what I’ll do.

Lose. My. Shit.

It won’t land in your eye, it will take your eye. Right out of the socket. And fly away with it. I might get all Britney Spears circa 2007 and just shave my head in anticipaton. If one gets caught in my hair (or god forbid HELMET while cycling) I’m doing it. Right to the scalp. Bald. Recipes are popping up online. I hear the nymph’s taste like shrimp. Or asparagus, depending on who you read. This summer is going to be insane. I’m nauseous. But I won’t complain. Promise…

2013 Big Sur International Marathon. The Recap.

Official Finisher and Hurricane Point Survivor!

One word. Breathtaking. No wait. Scratch that. Three words. Hardest Thing Ever. I’m torn. Ahh. Screw it.

That shit was hard.

And it completely took my breath away.

There. That sounds more like it.

I ran the Big Sur Marathon on Sunday, April 28^th. It was my 5^th marathon having run Chicago, Philadelphia, New York and the Marine Corps Marathon- a marathon a year- for the past 5 years. If I had to summarize those years in a single word? Transformative. In every single sense. I had a feeling Big Sur would be even more so. I have had a desire to run along ‘the jagged edge of the western world’ since first reading about Big Sur. Come across a list of “The Top 10 Best Destination Marathons in the World” and you’ll wind up reading about Big Sur. Conversely, come across “The Top 15 Toughest Marathons in the World” and you’ll also read about Big Sur. I can recall a blog post where I poo-poo’d the weather.com article exclaiming (and I quote):

What does weather.com know about marathons (I mean really. Bitch. Please.)

Oh you can re-read my BSIM kick off piece here in the sassy blog post: 26. Screw the 0.2. Oh weather.com….How right you were.

The Wake Up

3am came pretty quick Sunday morning. (Is 3am really morning? Let’s be honest. It’s the middle of the damn night.) Oddly. I slept well. That’s a first for me. Usually my anxiety is full tilt boogie. This time I was relaxed and happy. I’m not sure why. I semi-wigged out overhearing BSIM War Stories at the Expo. (The Hills! The Headwind! Gulp.), but that angst thankfully subsided. As per my usual, I left all my gear in a nice neat pile that would make my mother proud and Rain Man jealous. All. Organized. (Nice, right Ma?) Newton Gravity’s? Check. Lululemon duds? Check. Garmin? Check. Glide? Double dog check. Up. Dressed. Pony tailed. WC’d and off to the lobby in search of a coffee as big as my head I went.

We stayed at the Monterey Marriot, the BSIM host hotel which was directly across from the Expo. (Excellent choice Colby.) Perfect location. Clean. Comfortable. Great staff. And, a Starbucks that had the “Marathon Special” which consisted of a Big Ass Coffee (no Venti here just straight up Big Ass), a banana, a bagel, and a water all available at this ungodly hour. Genius. (It’s the little things.) I chugged my coffee and milled around in the lobby with the other Crazies before boarding a 4am bus that would take us to the start. (Oh boy.) Sweats bag in one hand, Marathon Special in the other; I padded off to our bus, calm, cool and collected. Who was this Chill Runner? Uh…Me? Yup. Me.

The Start

Aboard the magical mystery bus, I lose all concept of space and time. (Compass down!) It was a long dark ride spent chit chatting with my new friend from Tennessee. She was nervous. (And very, very nice.) I was happy to have some company. The ride was good. When we spilled out of that bus we might as well have been on the moon. That is, if the moon was a beautiful redwood forest. Where are we? Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park, 26 miles south of Carmel. (They weren’t kidding with the point-to-point bit.) My Zen morning continued as I sat among the redwoods with a little group of New Friends, laughing and slightly wigging out about the terrain. It was the perfect, chilly, foggy start to what would become The Perfect Day.

Where were my butterflies? Gone fishin’ that’s where.

The Run

I hit the loo. Check my bag. Bid my New Friends well and lumber off to the start. The Start. I’m here. And I can’t believe it. This was The Marathon for me. Bucket List stuff. I can remember reading about it before I ran my first thinking:

Someday. I’m running this. You watch.

So now I’m watching…

6:45am. I’m at the start, shoulder to shoulder with one of the many B2B Challenge Runners. She is clad in blue and yellow having run Boston a mere 2 weeks earlier and now she is running Big Sur. Boston. She has not quit. She is a runner. Therefore, she runs. She is Boston Strong. There are beautiful words spoken by the two race directors, Big Sur and Boston. There is a moment of silence broken only by the mournful sobs from the woman at my shoulder. I feel her sadness. She is doubled over embracing her friend. It reverberates through my core. Heart wrenching. Raw, palpable grief. I was overcome with emotion as I was 2 weeks before. I would run for Boston. I wiped my tears. And I began to run.

The Edge of the Western World

It takes me a few miles to set into a rhythm. It was an emotional start. I knew it would be and I allowed myself to be saturated by it. I feel great. Really great. It is cool, foggy and downhill. Heaven. I am lulled into a false sense of security. (Dial it down, Colby. 22 to go.) I move through the redwoods and out into a magnificent open stretch that embraces both the mountains and the sea. It is spectacular. The fog has lifted. I decide to glance at my Garmin.

Huh. Lookit me. I’m cruising!

Hold up. I decide right then and there. I will NOT obsess about my time. I will not. I will not glance at my Garmin obsessively. This is spectacular. THIS is why I run. I make a conscious decision.

I am running with my heart.

Rock you like a Hurricane

Hurricane Point. 560 feet of climb over two glorious miles and a 5% grade. Oh. And don’t forget the big old headwind that slaps you right in the kisser.

This shit just got real.

Up and up I go. I am breathing steadily. I didn’t freeze my hams off running hills in 16 degree weather for nothing! (Up and over Colby. Come, come…) With each deep breathe I envision an army of determined red blood cells carrying oxygen to my deprived quads. It’s quite a visual. The Taiko drummers set the beat of their march. (Trippy, yes. Effective? Totally.) I’m almost at The Half. Half! I look to my left to take in the view and running alongside of me is a beautiful, strong woman. She is bald. Cancer? Perhaps. But that isn’t defining her. Her strength is. She is a runner. And she is conquering Her Own Hurricane Point.

You got this.

Up. And Over. In the distance? I hear a symphony. A symphony! A tuxedo clad musician playing a baby grand piano on the jagged edge of the western world. And the Bixby Bridge. And me. Running.

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

I’m not making this up. There are no spectators here. It’s just you, beautiful sounds and breathtaking views. Spectacular. I am overwhelmed by beauty. Best Running Moment. Ever. The miles click on. I am elated. For now.

{Insert Alica Keyes belting} My Quads are on Fiiiiiiirrrre.

Welcome to the Second Half of Hell. (Oh no wait. Of HILLS! Second half of HILLS! My bad.) I was so completely obsessed with Hurricane Point that I guess I missed the memo about the Carmel Highlands. Sweet Baby Jesus. The curves. The rolling hills all peppered in the 20s. And that god forsaken cambered road. Imagine running in a funnel cloud. (Shoot. You already ran Hurricane Point. This part might as well be called Tornado Tunnel.) So off kilter. Ankles. Quads. Feet. FUEGO. Holy Tilt a Whirl. It’s a beast. What makes it unbearable? This whole tilty hill thing. It’s from pretty much mile 20…until the end.

Run with your heart Colby. Ignore. Pain is searing. Get over it Colby. 6 miles to go. I repeat that little sentence every mile second. It helps. Especially when at mile 23 I get momentarily excited- 5k to go! No sweat! I see my Garmin. Maybe I should always run with my heart! I am momentarily stunned by my time! Then I see what lies ahead- A beast. Thankfully, the amazing Big Sur volunteers slap oranges in my greedy little glycogen depleted paws. Strawberries too. That was a big treat. Angels. Little Green Eco-Conscious Angels. All of them.

Overcome

5k to go. Spectators! I have to admit. I have run some pretty damn big marathons, teaming with spectators, and to run one with a relative handful of them?

Even better.

It’s just you, your heart and Big Sur. You don’t need a cheering section. There is just something about it. It’s spiritual. And so moving. I loved it. It was the race of a lifetime. Run Big Sur. And when you do, forget your time, can your nerves and run with your heart. I promise you, it won’t disappoint.

26.2 Miles.

I’m at mile 25. I can’t believe it’s possible but there it is- another hill. I feel it. Tears. I am exhausted. I am giving it all I have. I really am. And there it is. Another hill. Deflated. It occurs to me that I have a little more than a mile left to finish. The tears flow. I am crying. I may lose it entirely, but I will never stop. Focus Colby. Boston. Run this last mile for Boston- for those who couldn’t. I summon my last kick. I am sobbing, determined to eek out every last drop. The Finish! The thrill of the done. I ran for Boston. I ran with my heart. I left everything I had there. I finished completely overwhelmed by emotion. I have never felt more proud to be a runner than in that single moment. Thank you Big Sur, Thank you.

Cloud 9!

The Day the Music Died

Thanks for the memories.
R.I.P.

My mp3 player has been a bit temperamental lately, and decided to quit permanently around 4 miles into a 14 mile run this morning. As I switched radio stations, her screen flashed the message “goodbye” and that was it. Sigh. Screen still reads “goodbye” but the mp3 player won’t do anything else – not even turn off. Sorry to see her go, but at least she left a note.

I have never run more than a 5K without music before, and had no intentions ever to do so, except in races that prohibit headphones. As far as my “recreational” runs go, though, my music is always with me. Love it.

Not wanting to miss out on a long run, I decided to keep going. At mile 5, I hit a point where I could turn right and be home in around 2 miles, or turn left and go for it. I went for it. If you had told me a year ago that I could run 10 miles without so much as a simple backbeat to distract me, I would have called you crazy. My, how times have changed.

I have to say, it wasn’t that bad! I did not get bored. I did not feel less energized. I was not thrown by hearing myself suck wind while running up hills.

I did have a harder time turning off my brain and just getting into a zone without having the music in the background, though. I tend to talk to myself too much while running (internally; I’m not one of those people who scares you on the street) when I don’t have some background noise to distract me. Nothing like tiring out your brain while you tire out your legs. Physically, though, it really made no difference to be music-less and I think I might even run a little bit faster without music than I do with music. And I definitely didn’t get bored, which was one of my big concerns about running long without music.

I always keep the volume on my headphones low enough to hear cars, but I did learn today that the bird chatter is nonstop in my neighborhood and a lot of dogs bark at me from behind big fences while I run. I kinda missed my morning radio shows, but definitely felt more aware of myself physically than when I tune out to music. All in all, a pretty nice change from the norm and one I will undoubtedly try again – on purpose.

I am, of course, off to buy a new mp3 player. It wasn’t that great.

Angels Among Us

I’m a big fan of charitable causes. And I generally won’t turn anyone down if they are soliciting for something I believe in. I particularly like opportunities to contribute to something in a direct, tangible fashion. For example, my daughter’s Girl Scout troop did a project last year where they made fleece blankets for babies to use in a local NICU. It was a great project and a great opportunity to feel like you can “see” exactly where your help will go.

More often, though, my opportunities for giving are monetary in nature, and I don’t always have that tangible connection to the help that it provides. While I still am always up for giving ‘til it hurts, many times I don’t feel that connected to the ultimate recipients.

So, I was grateful yesterday to be on the receiving end of some charitable Angels, who not only provided a dose of care and comfort to someone I love at a difficult time, but also provided a wonderful reminder to me that the giving that I do – that all of us do –does end up tangibly benefiting actual people, probably when they most need it, even though we may never meet them.

My mom underwent a lumpectomy yesterday. Stage 1 breast cancer, diagnosed only a few weeks ago. The surgery was successful. (Actually, the surgery itself was difficult and she suffered major complications afterward and I think I have aged a decade since yesterday morning, but from a cancer standpoint, the surgery went well. And she is stable and doing better now). They removed a tumor and some lymph nodes. All of the lymph nodes that they removed were clear, so the tumor was isolated and had not spread. Phew. A little radiation and she should be in the clear. Exhale.

When my mom was first diagnosed and went in to meet with the breast surgeon, she met a woman named Joan, who works in his office as a care coordinator. Joan was a lovely person, but after my mom’s surgery was scheduled, she did not expect to see Joan again until her post-surgery check-up.

Lo and behold, who was waiting for my mom when she was wheeled in for her pre-op procedures yesterday? Joan. A resident Angel. She came to see my mom to wish her well on her surgery and to give her a care package. The care package was put together by volunteers and included a beautifully knit shawl from another Angel named Kirsten, tagged with a lovely note. The package also included a meditation CD, some inspirational writings and all sorts of personal care goodies – chapstick, moisturizers, wet wipes, bandaids, etc. (all purchased with monetary contributions or donated), to help make her stay a little more comfortable. It was a beautiful care package, a beautiful gesture, and a real pick-me-up on an otherwise difficult day.

I can’t wait to thank Joan in person. I wish I could find “Kirsten” and let her know how much her shawl was appreciated. I think of her knitting it and wondering who might receive it. I’d love to let her know that even though the recipient may have been nameless and faceless while she was knitting the shawl, she is in fact a real, wonderful, deeply loved person, and she is so appreciative of Kirsten’s gift.

I am going to keep this experience in the forefront of my mind the next time I am asked to contribute to a cause. I may never be present to see my contributions come to fruition, but if I choose my causes carefully, they will – and when they do, they will make a positive difference in someone’s life just when they need it the most.