Zombie Warrior In Training

I have been avoiding writing this post for almost 12 weeks.

That was when I agreed to join Team In Training again to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Most of you remember the story of how I joined TNT last year, going from a well-rounded couch potato to a half marathon runner. The moment I walked into my hotel room before the Nike Women's Marathon, I called her and promised I would do it again next year, if she promised to come to San Francisco. She promised she would and we had a date. Her promise carried me up the hills and through the streets that day. Crossing the finish line was one of the happiest moments in my life--blown out knee, aching ankle, blisters and all. The only thing that clouded the euphoria was knowing that Manda didn't make it to San Francisco because her treatments weren't working. When I posted pictures of the event, she saw what I had written on my arm (Zombie Warrior) and wrote two words that brought tears, "My Hero!" She was gracious like that.

I haven't written about her since she passed, even though I think of her almost daily. I thought of her as I agreed to join as a mentor, knowing that my original motivation for running was gone; and I think of her every Saturday morning as I try to motivate my team members with a heavy heart.

This year, I know my fund raising can't help her any more, nor can my misadventures make her laugh (or wonder who the heck I am). I'm getting ready for a date that I know will break my heart. That's why everything I am doing (my running, my fund raising, my planning) is behind. Somewhere around the sixth or seventh attempt to write this in April, I had to stop.

A friend and I were talking about this and he made me think of why I'm running again. Amanda inspired me, but now I've met so many others who went through what she did. This week, I learned that one of my mentees will miss the next few weeks of training because he is scheduled for chemo. I have friends who were recently diagnosed with various blood cancers (two in the last year) and those who fight chronic forms of it; I have learned of friends who have overcome their battles and are living healthy lives. When I think about it, I realize my participation and fund raising were inspired by Amanda, but now includes many more friends who I'd like to think are benefiting from my feeble efforts.

And with this, my fund raising officially begins. I know a lot has changed since last year and donations might be smaller. I'll shamelessly accept donations big and small with gratitude. I am looking for sponsors, so if you know of any businesses that want their name raced through the streets of San Francisco, I can provide you with more details. I would also appreciate it if you could each pass on my fund raising site to at least 5 of your most generous friends.

Where is the link for you to donate? Right here!

I'll continue to post stories, updates and possibly pictures. Once my training jersey is personalized I'll start modeling it. Until then, I appreciate your support in any form and amount.

Wish You Were There

Sadly, I am not photogenic--mostly because cameras have a tendency to capture me as I am. Over the years, this has caused me to avoid taking pictures and losing opportunities to document some incredibly happy moments and experiences. Left to my own devices, I don't even take a camera with me to typically camera-worthy events. Lucky for me, during my race weekend I had my husband, my brother and best friend (Tall Lanky Guy) with me--and all three are pretty good photographers. M was sweet enough to compile some of the pictures and video clips to make a slide show-video of our weekend.

The bad news is, I am still not photogenic. The good news is, I was so ridiculously happy that I was not too bothered by that minor fact.

I wish you were there to see and hear everything I did. The best I can do is share M's perspective with you.

3: 14: 04

I was looking forward to last weekend for almost six months. I dreamed of who I would meet, how we'd get along and my performance overall. I was a little concerned that after all that dreaming the weekend wouldn't be what I had imagined. Except it was so much more.

I called Amanda in April and asked if I could run with TNT in her honor. With her blessing, I signed up and joined Team In Training, where they promised to make an endurance runner out of a heavy little couch potato. For six months, I did things I never thought I would to prepare for the Nike Women's Marathon on October 19th. And finally the big weekend arrived.

Last Friday, I was up at 4 am and at the airport not long after. I sat nervously waiting for our flight, listening to everyone's excitement. There was a large group of people in green and purple jackets, waiting to catch various flights to San Francisco. I knew many of them, I was one of them. I don't remember the flight or the ride from Oakland to the Grand Hyatt in Union Square (the hotel was lovely), I just remember the excitement. There were people--mostly women--everywhere. Nike Town was conveniently across the street from us, with all of the participant's names posted on a pink wall. The Wall and Expo, where we were to pick up our runner's numbers were already packed. Some of the activities were ridiculously 'girlie' and I gladly participated. Who am I to pass up free manicures and massages? But beyond the girlie-ness, while waiting in the lines you met other runners--many of them TNT members--who were there exchanging stories, encouraging and cheering each other days before the race. Among the more humbling moments was listening to Sarah Reinertsen--an amputee who competes in triathlons, marathons and other endurance events--speak about how she prepares for events. The whole time she was speaking, I kept thinking to myself that I have no excuse for being inactive. I have two whole legs!

Saturday was spent hanging out with my best friend from college, my husband and my brother who had both flown in to support me. I was touched to have my three favorite guys in one place looking out for me. M was commissioned with taking pictures and video of all the excitement. We eventually went to the big Pasta Dinner at Mascone Center, to be greeted by all of the TNT coaches, capitains and mentors, dressed in costumes and cheering us from the entrance all the way down the stairs and into the huge center that was setup to host thousands of giddy people. It was incredibly emotional being greeted by the people who have spent months training you, listening to survivor's stories and seeing slide shows of the people we are running for and with. My nervousness pretty much went away at that point when I remembered what and who I was there for. I was ready for the race.

Sunday morning, I was awake at 4am--again--and this time without my alarm clock. Our wake-up call wasn't for another hour, so I lay in bed thinking of Amanda and her family, planning next year's trip and thinking of things that a three-four year old boy would enjoy. I didn't really come up with many details, other than things that involved Ghirardelli Square and Mitchell's Ice Cream (sorry, Manda--kids love me for the treats). We got up at five, got ready and met what seemed like half the hotel's guests downstairs. By 6 am, the early starters had already left and everyone else was checking in their coat bags and finding their corrals. There was just so much excitement and anticipation it was hard to stand still. There were people EVERYWHERE. Almost 20,000 of them. And I was but a drop in this sea. The last thing I remember before I started running was our coach's advice to smile while we ran. I thought that was odd advice at the time. Once we started running, I was smiling almost non-stop.

The run was amazing. The temperature was perfect for running--cooler than the previous two days. The streets and views were gorgeous. Unfortunately, shortly after Mile 2, my right ankle started hurting and by Mile 4, my left knee was kicking in. Both are injuries I have had on my longer distances all season, but was hoping to avoid during the race. Neither injury stopped me. I ran up the first hills, and about half way up the Giant Hill. I walked the rest of that hill going up, took a few pictures with my cell phone and continued to run again. Every step of the way was literally amazing to me. The views, the cheering volunteers, our coaches and the sign holding survivors all made the 13.1 miles go by so quickly. The last three miles were the easiest both because the path had evened out and because the energy just moved us forward. As I approached the finish line, I saw my Three Men again (they had greeted me at Mile 7) cheering and taking pictures. I was greeted at the finish line by a group of very well dressed firemen handing out Tiffany's boxes. I could not believe I had finished my race. I felt nothing but joy as I watched others follow me across the finish, claiming their necklaces and sneaking in hugs from the firefighters (yes, they were all exceptionally handsome and polite). I actually bumped into Sarah again, shook hands with her and thanked her for her talk. She graciously congratulated me and encouraged me to keep up the good work.

After I checked in, got my post race massage and got my Finisher's shirt, we went back to the hotel, where my college roommate was waiting for us. I hadn't seen her in almost 3 years and seeing her then was just like icing on a giant piece of cake. We spent the rest of the afternoon talking, eating and resting. My cheer team had been up at the same time I was and had watched hundreds of runners go by in an attempt to yell out my name as I slowly passed. We were all exhausted.

All in all, this was one of the most amazing things I have participated it. My intentions were completely altruistic when I joined--in then end I derived so much joy from it myself. I am proud of the $18 million dollars that was raised for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society through this event alone--and proud of my tiny contribution to it. I am grateful for the support of my friends and family (real and virtual) who helped get me to San Francisco. I am humbled by the strength of the men and women I met last weekend, some of them survivors running/walking/cheering at an event that was meant to honor them. I'm already planning on raising funds and going back next year. Times like these, it's good to be one of the crowd.

The End Is the Beginning

Yesterday morning, my training with TNT ended exactly where it started: in the parking lot of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society offices. Twenty two weeks ago, I showed up full of joyous optimism, ready to train for a half marathon. The end of that training day put my physical abilities into perspective for me. I could barely run more than a mile, even at 5-2 intervals. Since then, I have had horrible runs and I have had some amazing runs as well. Exactly one week from today, I will be at the starting line of the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco, ready to run my first long distance event.

I ended the training season, much as I had started it: with a little bit of lost dignity and attempted humor. During my first weekly run, in what seems an eternity ago, I drove to Torrey Pines Lodge and met with my team. Considering how early in the morning it was, I double checked that I had turned off the car lights, locked the door and put my purse in the trunk of my car. After returning from the three mile run through Torrey Pines park, I found most of my team standing around my car (how sweet!). As I walked up to them, I realized they were staring at the wide open door. Doh! Fortunately for me, there are so many fancy cars at the lodge that my car would be an insult to potential car thieves. Unfortunately, most of them remember me as the "Open Car Door Girl" and not by my name which is clearly written on my jersey in neon green.

Yesterday, I finished my run and wanted to grab a couple of things out of the trunk and join everyone for instructions about race day. Paper, pen and cell phone in hand, I slammed the trunk shut--just as I saw my keys in the trunk. I tried to casually ask Coach if he knew of anyone on the team that could break into my car. To his credit, he kept a straight face and suggested AAA. By the time I called and someone came, everyone was quietly gathered and listening to the coaches. And the someone who came was a rumbling tow truck driver with a flatbed truck that could easily fit two cars on it. To open my car door. In a tiny parking lot with a rapt audience. No subtlety there. With his arrival, what tiny shred of dignity I had maintained was gone. Everyone had a smile, chuckle or comment for me. As one runner who witnessed both of my adventures commented, "It's like you had bookends to the season. Symmetrical and well placed." Thank you very much.

I'd like to thank everyone who has supported me with your kind words, suggestions and very generous support. I am very well aware of the economic realities these days and know that every dollar donated matters. While I have met my minimum fund raising goals, I ask that you continue to support the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society with any donation you can afford either through my site or that of others trying to raise funds. I know many of you have expressed the desire to donate and may have to donate less than you originally intended. The important thing is to continue to support the thousands of patients and their family members who benefit from your support of LLS.

Thank you again for sharing this experience with me.

Train Run

I boarded a train from Solana Beach to Oceanside at 6:30am. I ran 12 miles down the coast in less than 2.5 hours (8-2 intervals). I must say, I have kind of impressed myself. Plus, while exhausted and limp-noodly at the moment, I feel great.

Shop For a Better Future

Have you been wanting to use your powers of shopping for good? Are you looking for lovely jewelry? Are you thinking of getting an early start on your Holiday gift list? It just so happens I can help you.

One of my co-workers is helping me with my fund raising and will donate all the proceeds of her jewelry sales to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. You can find something in almost any price range. The event will be at my place on Tuesday night (August 26th), but if you are too far to drive, check out Dana's site. If you see something you like or have questions, send her an email at dmp816@live.com. Any purchases made before Sept. 1, 2008 will count towards my fund raiser. Just please make sure to tell her that it is for my event (she doesn't know about this blog, so please reference my name).

Happy Shopping and as always thank you for your support!

8 Mile

Truth be told, my strict regimen of waking up at 5 am has been slipping. All it took was a few nights of insomnia and the Monday morning runs being canceled. Even in my sleep I know I don't have to be up at 5am to be anywhere, and now that I have reverted to my later bedtime, 5am-ish has become 6am-ish. So my weekday mornings have been starting later and Saturdays are a little bit of a struggle. But I was still going to my weekly training sessions until two weeks ago, when my knee was bothering me so much I had a nice little ice pack collection everywhere I went.

Add to that the knee injury that finally caught up with me and the wretched cold that has made me a little loopy for lack of oxygen. I haven't run for almost two weeks and haven't even been able to crosstrain for a week. Yet, I got up this morning, grabbed my training gear and met my team. On the way, I realized that I am actually enjoying this whole experience aches, challenges and all. I forgot my general promise to share my story during the Mission Moment--which I was called on to do. Most people write something and share it so they be coherent at 7 am and express their committment to our goal. I was shocked to get up in front of the Central and North County teams and tell the story of how this couch potato decided to run a half marathon. I honestly can't say I remember anything that I said--I just know that everyone was saying I did a good job when it was over (please keep in mind that these are some lovely people who won't tell a sleepy woman she was incoherant).

We got into our groups and started running up the Coast. One thing that I love about San Diego is the opportunity to see so many active people outdoors. Before 7:30 this morning, we saw the Breast Cancer team walking south on the 101, a very large group of bicyclists riding north on the 101, a running club, a walking club, ourselves and assorted others out there moving for the heck of it.

The half-marathoners ran 8 miles today. It was wonderful! Not only did I run and survive, I discovered the beauty of Red Vines, had a dip in the ocean with my running partner and ordered a pizza* for lunch from Pizza Port. Brilliant!

All told, I'm pretty sure I'm enjoying running much more than I anticipated. I look forward to running with my team, panic when I can't run and measure each mile as we get closer to the 13.1 goal for the half marathon. I'm not sure yet, but I may be doing this on a regular basis.

*Pizza is my new favorite food. I cannot get enough of it, which in a way is not necessarily a bad thing--Dean Karnazes loves pizza, too.

People are Giving ME Credit

It is a well known fact among those who know me well that:

a. I like being the center of attention. Sooner or later it's all about me. I have tried to change, but it's impossible hard.
b. I like being credited for all great things. I don't like taking credit for them as much as being given credit for them. It is always nicer to receive than to take.

This morning we ran the San Diego Blood Bank's Naked Juice 5K. It was fun, despite my bumming knee. Actually, the knee didn't slow me down too much, for which I was grateful. I finished the 5k (3.1 miles) in 40 minutes--which is a slower pace than I used to run a few weeks ago, but I feel better overall.

I had a couple of teary moments, which made me realize that the bright young age of 35, that I'm little bit like a teary geyser. If I haven't been able to change yet, it's probably not going to happen anymore.

First, I got all teary when one of the regular blood recipients came to the stage and thanked us for saving her life and listing the things she can now do that she couldn't before. Half an hour later, I teared up during the National Anthem--which happens just about every time I hear it.

Towards the end of the run, I saw the same homeless man I have seen each time we train/run Downtown by the Bay. He is always there, toothless and missing fingers, cheering on any group of runners at just about any event. He sits close to the end of the finish line in the park and calls out the runners numbers as they pass by. Almost everyone I know likes seeing him. As I got close, he started reading my bib number, stopped and instead yelled, "GO TEAM! GO TEAM! IT'S ALL ABOUT THE TEAM!" (Go Team! is the Team In Training motto and I was wearing my TNT shirt). I got a little misty smiling and running past him. He stopped his counting to give me a toothless grin and a fingerless waive. After I crossed the finish line, I grabbed some free goodies and food. Since M also grabbed a couple of sandwiches, I thought it would be a good idea to give the extras to our cheerleader. Plus, M wanted to take his picture for our friend who couldn't join us for the run. As we headed toward him, one of the runners started coming towards me and said, "You guys saved my life! Thank you so very much!"

Now, it's one thing to have people say that LLS is helping them (which I have heard from a number of survivors and their families) or that TNT has helped them improve their lives in some way. But for a complete stranger to run up to you and say you're saving their life because you're running? I can honestly say I have never done less to get credit for so much. And I have never been so moved by someone's sense of gratitude toward a cause that I am blessed to be a part of.

So once again, a perfectly well intentioned, seemingly selfless thing has become all about me. I can only say I'm humbled by it all I try to fight back the tears a few hours later. I pass on that sense of gratitude to all of you, my very generous donors and supportive friends who have helped get me to this point. Your generosity is truly changing lives.

Grace in Motion

I have officially had my first and second sports related injuries while training:

As I was buying my running shoes last weekend, I was so excited that I jammed my finger between my heel and the shoe. I bent my weak nail so far back, my finger started bleeding. In shoes I hadn't tried on yet. The look of horror on my face just made the lady next to me laugh, especially because I tried to casually brush it off as a broken nail. It really wasn't that funny. Although, on the way home, I did think it was the kind of thing that would happen to TK--which made it a little less painful.

I tried to swim today. It would have gone better if I hadn't been so enthusiastic. So enthusiastic, that I pushed myself away from the wall with all my force and scraped my chest area along the bottom of the pool. The good news is, my chest area helped me bounce a little and saved my head from hitting the bottom of the pool. The bad news is, I am sore in a place I totally didn't anticipate hurting while swimming.

This may be why I was never the athletic type.

A Runner's Life for Me

I am a new woman.

I am pretty sure I can never tell my mom about my attempts at running a half marathon. If I did, I'd have to confess that Amanda has inspired me to do two things that she could not achieve in 34 years: she couldn't get me to wake up early or exercise with any regularity. And now, thanks to Amanda, I do both. For the past two weeks, I have been waking up between 5-5:15 everyday. Most days, without my alarm going off. Twice a week, I get up, get dressed and go running with my mid-week teams. Other days, I go into work earlier than I ever have so I can leave early and meet the evening running teams. This is my schedule every day, but Sundays, where I sleep in until 7. It is another one of my life's little ironies that I cannot share with my mom this little tidbit that would bring her so much joy.

I have learned however that getting up and driving to a beach trail does not imply a state of awareness. Take this past Monday for example. I got up and drove to the Torrey Pines Lodge, parked my car and greeted my team. We stretched, warmed up and proceeded to run approximately 4 miles in 3-1 intervals (I was able to run 7-2 intervals for most of the way). As we made our way back to the cars, all I could think of was the Cliff Bar in my bag. However, as I approached the car, I realized something didn't look quite right. Perhaps it was the driver's side door that was left wide open, making it easy for any potential car thieves to easily enter and make themselves comfortable. The funny thing is that the doors were locked, just left ajar. I consider it my contribution to the joy of my morning running mates...

On a serious note: I am so overwhelmed and honored by everyone's help and contributions. I appreciate your faith in my abilities and your generosity. I am meeting survivors whose enthusiasm is contagious, volunteers who come to support us and family members who are thanking us for our efforts. It makes early mornings and shin splints trite, and almost anything possible.

With the exception of today's painful run, I am able to run 1.5 miles at a time, but almost 4.5 with intervals. This is a much more realistic goal than my initial plan of running miles at a time. My intervals are increasing (longer runs, same length walks) as is the distance that I'm running. I need to address the shin splints that are the biggest limiting factor right now, but they are getting a little better.

If you have any suggestions to actually be awake in the morning or run/jog more effectively, please share. If you can't believe that I abandoned my open-doored car for an hour on a holiday morning, I have a bunch of witnesses who are probably still laughing at me. And seriously, why would I make this up?

Run Run Run

For about two weeks, I have been writing and re-writing this post and not posting it. This is a post about something much more important than my curious little blog.

Last month, my blogger friend Manda was diagnosed with leukemia. While I have never had the pleasure of meeting Amanda, I felt the same way I do whenever one of my friends is taken ill. I planned a menu. I had every intention of cooking a bunch of food and sending it across the country to people whose tastes I did not know. But as I made my grocery list, I realized it wasn't a very realistic way to cheer anyone up (plus, I didn't want to tempt fate by sending perishables). Nor was my idea to coordinate a bunch of fellow Pajiba fans to create a podcast of her favorite books.

As I went through my mail after work one day, a way to help found me. I had received an invitation Team In Training, a non-profit group that raises funds to support The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I originally learned about The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society a few years ago when my friend Karen was diagnosed with lymphoma. They provided her and her family with support and information as she prepared for her battle. Now, I saw this as an opportunity to do something practical and supportive. Knowing that Amanda had been training to run in a 5k before she got sick, I thought it would be the perfect thing to do. I called Amanda and asked if I could raise funds in her honor, and she generously said yes.

Now, I have a plan.

This year, for the second time, I will be participating in the San Diego Blood Bank's Naked Juice 5k. As a fairly regular blood donor, I have supported blood banks in every city I have lived in since I was in college. This year, especially in light of reading Amanda's updates, I have decided to make an annual tradition of this event. Last year, I walked the 5k with M, my mother and friends. This year I hope to run. If you live in San Diego or SoCal and would like to join my team, please let me know and I'll provide you with details.

More importantly, this week, I begin my training and fund raising efforts with Team In Training. Of the various races that we could participate in, I have selected to run a half marathon in October. If you have ever seen me, you know that this is a bit of a stretch, considering how I could probably roll down a hill more gracefully than run the streets of San Francisco. I am not an athlete, nor am I fit. But I am determined. Very, very determined.

I am asking for your support and donations (which are 100% tax deductible) for an organization that does great work for those who have a difficult and frustrating battle ahead of them. My goals this year are to meet the minimum fund raising goal of $3,300 ($875 or so of which I must raise by June 26, 2008) and to cross the finish line. They may not seem too ambitious, but I want to meet my goals. I know that with your help, I will easily exceed both of my goals. The sooner I meet my fund raising goals, the sooner I can devote my attention to training. Lots and lots of training. I will provide regular updates about my progress for your entertainment.

I ask that you donate whatever amount you feel comfortable. You can donate a little bit every month from now till the race and I would greatly appreciate it. Please pass this link on to your friends and family and encourage them to donate as well. If you have trained for distance runs or have any tips, please share (I don't want to make my team look bad). And if you think you'll be in San Francisco on the day of the race, please come and cheer us on. I'd love to see you as I cross the finish line.