I hate coming in last. I have always hated it. My whole life, even if I did not necessarily strive to be the best or the fastest, I always strived not to be last. Seriously, what is worse than being in last place? Until last night I was sure the answer to that question was nothing. What happened last night to change my mind? you ask. Well, I'll tell you:
Last night I went to the indoor track at Tufts for our weekly Dana Farber track workout. Despite the fact that I had been to the workout one time before (as you may remember, I went to this one time before my run-in with the ice patch a couple of weeks ago) it was still intimidating to walk in and see the track full of runners. We did a couple of warm up laps before coach Jack arrived and announced the evening's workout to us: one 1200 (6 times around the track) at 5K race pace (whatever that may be... I'm not so good with the pacing thing, I equate it to about 85% effort), one recovery lap, one 400 (2 laps) at about 5 seconds faster per lap than the 1200 (maybe 90% effort?), and then two recovery laps, repeat 5 times. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor... this was going to be ugly.
We start running and I quickly fall to the back of the pack with fellow DFMCer Sarah. It is beyond frustrating to me to be last this early in the game. Granted, the people that do these track workouts are incredible runners and they've blown me out of the water on every single group run to date, so I'm not entirely surprised by this. But on long runs, there are a lot more runners and I'm not dead last... at the track I am DEAD LAST. As the faster groups lap me on the track, I am transported back to my highschool track, running with the volleyball team, looking down on those girls who got lapped in warm ups... now I am those girls. I am mortified.
With Sarah for company and coach Jack cheering me on, I continue to push on through the workout despite the fact that my legs are burning and my lungs are gasping for air. I get lost in my thoughts. Occasionally I pass another runner and they gasp a few words of encouragement in my direction and I feel an added boost of energy surge through me. I can feel every muscle in my body working, burning, getting stronger. And next thing I know, I'm on my last repeat. I push myself harder to finish strongly and by the time I get to my last two fast laps, I'm barely aware of the fact that almost all of the other runners have finished their workouts well before me. My only thought is that I am going to finish this workout and I am going to finish it as hard as my body can handle. It is at this point that I realize what is worse than coming in last place- not showing up at all.
So, maybe I'm not the fastest runner at our track workouts, and maybe I'll come in last every single time, but who cares? How is being the last one done with a tough track workout ever going to hurt me? At least I'm there and I'm putting in the time and effort and maybe, just maybe, if I work hard enough I will be able to catch up with some of the faster runners one of these days. But, you know what? If I never catch up with the speedy runners, that's ok with me. I'm still going to show up, and I'm going to run as hard and fast as my body will let me and I'm going to be proud of it, even if I'm last.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective...
"You know what I'm craving? A little perspective. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that?"
Anton Ego, Ratatouille
Today's "long" run was horrible. I'm sure you can guess by the quotation marks that it wasn't exactly what I would classify as long... in fact, I might even go so far as to put the word "run" in quotes too; there wasn't much that could be classified as running going on either. Because the group run was cancelled this week due to weather, we had a sort of unofficial group run out of Buff's Pub in Newton. The plan was to do 17 miles... which would have been no walk in the park, but I thought was manageable. At about mile 9, right around Newton Center, my back/ tail bone aching, my legs acting like they have never gone on a run before, I realized that there was no way that 17 miles was going to happen. I begrudgingly accepted defeat and cut out the final loop of the run to return early to Buff's. I felt like a complete failure.
At what point did a 10-12 mile run become a failure?
Last time I checked I am the same girl who hated running for most of her life, who could barely run a mile in high school. Last time I checked I am the girl who guilted herself into running in college only after realizing that if she didn't start doing some sort of activity her disturbingly vast collection of jeans would go unworn due to weight gain. Last time I checked I am the same girl who found peace and comfort in running when things weren't going my way. When did I become the girl who berated herself for having a bad run and cutting it short when her body wasn't agreeing with her? Clearly I was in need of a little perspective.
Bad runs happen. No- Hard runs happen. But look at the difference in what I thought was a hard run a couple of months ago, maybe a couple of miles, to what I consider a hard run now. I mean, I ran 11 miles! That is something... that is more than something, that is a lot of miles! I never thought I'd crack the 7 mile mark on a good day, never mind 11 on a bad one. I should be proud of what I've accomplished, not beating myself up because it's not quite what I planned. I can do 17 miles another day- I will do 17 miles another day. And I will do 20 on another day, and on April 21 I will do 26.2.
Ahh, perspective. It is a powerful thing. Now to find a good wine to pair it with...
Thursday, February 21, 2008
"Heartbreaker you got the best of me...
...but I just keep on coming back incessantly"
I've recently noticed I like to start my blogs off with a little tune. Today's song is dedicated to that oh-so-wonderful slope all of us Thursday runners know and love, Heartbreak Hill. Why do we continue to punish ourselves week in and week out, trolling up the seemingly endless incline in the darkness? Is it because we are masochists? Possibly. Is it because we are crazy? Quite likely. Is it because there is no greater feeling on a cold Thursday night than defeating the hills, running down Beacon Street into the warmth of Crossroads and then climbing the stairs (almost always tripping on the first one on the way up) to hear the chatter of runners unwinding after a great run? Definitely (the pizza and beer at the end helps too :))
I've recently noticed I like to start my blogs off with a little tune. Today's song is dedicated to that oh-so-wonderful slope all of us Thursday runners know and love, Heartbreak Hill. Why do we continue to punish ourselves week in and week out, trolling up the seemingly endless incline in the darkness? Is it because we are masochists? Possibly. Is it because we are crazy? Quite likely. Is it because there is no greater feeling on a cold Thursday night than defeating the hills, running down Beacon Street into the warmth of Crossroads and then climbing the stairs (almost always tripping on the first one on the way up) to hear the chatter of runners unwinding after a great run? Definitely (the pizza and beer at the end helps too :))
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
That's what she said
This is an excerpt from Kristin Armstrong's blog on the Runner's World Website. It's almost as if she called me up and asked me how I felt about running before she wrote it. I don't have much to write about today, so I'll let her do the talking for me:
So I may not always run the way I want to run, race the way I imagine myself racing, and my performance outside may only rarely reflect the runner on the inside, but there is a certain endurance rush reserved for those of us who have to work extra hard just to stand on the start line and dream.
There is a unique beauty to pursuing the glow that resides just beyond our reach."
Monday, February 18, 2008
Pain in the butt
I had an awesome long run on Saturday with the DFMC crew. Despite cold butts, numb elbows, foot injuries, and muscle pains, Lindsey, Sarah and I did the whole 15 miles, and managed to come out still smiling at the end. Lindsey and I continued our tradition (I use tradition loosely here... it's only happened one other time) of seeing wildlife during the last mile of our run; we saw two HUGE hawks on top of a house in the final stretch before returning to the Longfellow Club in Wayland. Anyways, it was a great run and I actually felt good at the end of it. I even managed to go home and shower afterwards and go out in Cambridge for a while with my friends before having to head home and take a much needed nap (last long run, if you remember, I passed out as soon as I got home and didn't wake up until my hunger was too great to ignore).
On Saturday night I got together with a bunch of my friends out in Watertown for a good old fashioned sleepover party. After placing an order for delivery, I realized that my wallet was nowhere to be found. I figured it must be out in the car somewhere so I went outside to check; no wallet in the car. Then I thought it must have fallen off of my lap and onto the side of the road when I got out of the car when we originally parked it on the street. So I went running down the driveway to check the street. Two steps later my feet hit a huge patch of ice and next thing I knew I was on my back on the driveway. I laid there for a minute and came to the conclusion that I was probably paralyzed. When I realized that I could move my feet, I decided to try and get up. Struggling to my feet, I could feel pain spreading like a slow moving liquid from my tail bone all the way up through my entire back. My first thought was "How am I going to run!"
Well, I took it easy on Sunday and today my butt and back are feeling much much better. It's a beautiful and unseasonably warm day here today so I'm even going to go out and attempt a short run and see how I feel. Hopefully things will be back in working order for tomorrow's track workout!
By the way, I ended up finding my wallet on Saturday night. It was lying on the side of the road. I'll be keeping a little better track of it from now on... and keeping an eye out for ice.
Friday, February 15, 2008
The Call of the Whoopie
Have you ever had a whoopie pie? Two small moist devils food cakes sandwiching a thick, sweet frosting. If you've never had one, I suggest you stop reading right here and go to your local bakery to pick one up, you won't regret it. (If your local bakery doesn't have whoopie pies then you should stop going there immediately, it is clearly not a reputable source for baked goods) Anyways, I arrived home last night after a lovely Valentine's Day evening spent with Heartbreak Hill and then with my wonderful friends, to find that I am now the proud owner of lots and lots of whoopie pies courtesy of my very favorite valentine, my dad. Despite the fact that I had just eaten a huge dinner and felt as though I might burst, I quickly tore into a delicious red velvet whoopie pie (a sort of Valentine's day twist on the traditional pie), and savored every last bite. Heaven!
As I climbed into bed, still licking the frosting off my lips (what a picture that is...), I got to remembering. My mom loved whoopie pies. I distinctly remember a time having whoopie pies with my mom and joking about how they called to us to eat them, "the call of the whoopie" she called it. "Whoooop whooop," we all ran around the kitchen yelling. To this day I can't eat a whoopie pie without hearing the call of the whoopie somewhere in the back of my head followed by my mom's infectious laughter.
When someone close to you passes away, people always talk about the "hard times of the year." You know, the holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, etc; The times when it's supposed to be especially hard to be without the one's that you love. It's not really like that for me. Don't get me wrong, those times aren't easy, but at least you see them coming, and you are surrounded by all of the friends and family who are still in your life. For me, the "hard times" have been the times when the memories just came up out of the blue, when I didn't have time to prepare for them, when I was suddenly ambushed with the reminder that my mom isn't here anymore. It is then that I miss my mom the most, when I wish it was as easy as just picking up the phone to hear her voice and remember together the things that once had us laughing so hard.
These days I find myself "ambushed" less often. Not because I don't think about my mom or because I don't miss her, I definitely do both of those things every day. But since I've started training for the marathon, spending hours alone with my thoughts and feelings, the memories of my my mom have gradually turned away from ambushes to just what they are, memories of great times in my life. They are less a reminder that she is gone and more a happy reminder that my mom always lives on in my memory. Training for the marathon has done more for me than I think professional therapy probably ever could have.
So last night, as I climbed into bed remembering the "call of the whoopie," my legs aching from the great 9 mile run over the Newton hills earlier that evening, I peacefully fell asleep to the sound of whooping and my mom's laughter in my head, looking forward to memories and long runs to come.
As I climbed into bed, still licking the frosting off my lips (what a picture that is...), I got to remembering. My mom loved whoopie pies. I distinctly remember a time having whoopie pies with my mom and joking about how they called to us to eat them, "the call of the whoopie" she called it. "Whoooop whooop," we all ran around the kitchen yelling. To this day I can't eat a whoopie pie without hearing the call of the whoopie somewhere in the back of my head followed by my mom's infectious laughter.
When someone close to you passes away, people always talk about the "hard times of the year." You know, the holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, etc; The times when it's supposed to be especially hard to be without the one's that you love. It's not really like that for me. Don't get me wrong, those times aren't easy, but at least you see them coming, and you are surrounded by all of the friends and family who are still in your life. For me, the "hard times" have been the times when the memories just came up out of the blue, when I didn't have time to prepare for them, when I was suddenly ambushed with the reminder that my mom isn't here anymore. It is then that I miss my mom the most, when I wish it was as easy as just picking up the phone to hear her voice and remember together the things that once had us laughing so hard.
These days I find myself "ambushed" less often. Not because I don't think about my mom or because I don't miss her, I definitely do both of those things every day. But since I've started training for the marathon, spending hours alone with my thoughts and feelings, the memories of my my mom have gradually turned away from ambushes to just what they are, memories of great times in my life. They are less a reminder that she is gone and more a happy reminder that my mom always lives on in my memory. Training for the marathon has done more for me than I think professional therapy probably ever could have.
So last night, as I climbed into bed remembering the "call of the whoopie," my legs aching from the great 9 mile run over the Newton hills earlier that evening, I peacefully fell asleep to the sound of whooping and my mom's laughter in my head, looking forward to memories and long runs to come.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Turning over a new leaf
Last week I decided, I'm not sure why, that once each week I am going to do something that makes me uncomfortable. Now, one might argue, that in training for a marathon, I am doing something uncomfortable each and every day. However, I'm not talking physical discomfort here. I'm talking that queasy, nervous, I might throw up feeling you get in your stomach when you're about to do something that is out of your comfort zone. Now, as you may or may not know, I'm not exactly known for my spontaneity, nor am I known for "putting myself out there," or for really being receptive to change for that matter (I am really making myself sound awesome right now), so this is a pretty huge undertaking for me.
Anyways, like I said, I began this little self-improvement project last week with my first uncomfortable act: public speaking. Last Tuesday at the DFMC group meeting I was asked to stand up in front of the group and share a little bit about my fundraising experience thus far. If you were there, you know that this little "speech," (if you can even call it that) was really no big deal at all, and lasted, oh, I'd say about two minutes, but I am petrified of talking in front of a group, so this was a big thing for me. Anyways, I did it, I lived through it, and now maybe I won't be so scared next time (maybe).
Despite the fact that my one uncomfortable thing for the week was completed, I was sucked into yet another uncomfortable act later in the week; I played rock band and I sang in front of people(hey, I didn't say I had to only do serious uncomfortable things). I am NOT a good singer, and though I will belt out a tune or fifty while in the car by myself, I am not one to go showing off my inabiltity to carry a tune to others. But anyways, at the prodding of my lovely roommate and neighbors, I sang, and, yeah, it wasn't pretty, but I dare anyone to try and pry the microphone out of my hands.
So that brings me to this week: the dreaded track workout. This was a special uncomfortable thing because not only was it something new, but it also would be physically uncomfortable and it included one of my personal least favorite things, a track. I left work yesterday with the warning, "I have a track workout tonight, if I die, I probably won't be at work tomorrow," so that just goes to show you how good I was feeling about this little endeavor. When we arrived at the track, there were tons of runners, FAST runners, all over the place... talk about intimidating. But as the track cleared out, and coach Jack started talking, I began to feel a little better about what was to come. And then we started running...
I'm not going to bore you with the details of the workout, but let's just say it was challenging. It wasn't terrible though! And I'm going to go back next week... maybe, maybe, I will get a little faster :)
Now I just have to think of something uncomfortable to do next week...
Anyways, like I said, I began this little self-improvement project last week with my first uncomfortable act: public speaking. Last Tuesday at the DFMC group meeting I was asked to stand up in front of the group and share a little bit about my fundraising experience thus far. If you were there, you know that this little "speech," (if you can even call it that) was really no big deal at all, and lasted, oh, I'd say about two minutes, but I am petrified of talking in front of a group, so this was a big thing for me. Anyways, I did it, I lived through it, and now maybe I won't be so scared next time (maybe).
Despite the fact that my one uncomfortable thing for the week was completed, I was sucked into yet another uncomfortable act later in the week; I played rock band and I sang in front of people(hey, I didn't say I had to only do serious uncomfortable things). I am NOT a good singer, and though I will belt out a tune or fifty while in the car by myself, I am not one to go showing off my inabiltity to carry a tune to others. But anyways, at the prodding of my lovely roommate and neighbors, I sang, and, yeah, it wasn't pretty, but I dare anyone to try and pry the microphone out of my hands.
So that brings me to this week: the dreaded track workout. This was a special uncomfortable thing because not only was it something new, but it also would be physically uncomfortable and it included one of my personal least favorite things, a track. I left work yesterday with the warning, "I have a track workout tonight, if I die, I probably won't be at work tomorrow," so that just goes to show you how good I was feeling about this little endeavor. When we arrived at the track, there were tons of runners, FAST runners, all over the place... talk about intimidating. But as the track cleared out, and coach Jack started talking, I began to feel a little better about what was to come. And then we started running...
I'm not going to bore you with the details of the workout, but let's just say it was challenging. It wasn't terrible though! And I'm going to go back next week... maybe, maybe, I will get a little faster :)
Now I just have to think of something uncomfortable to do next week...
Friday, February 8, 2008
"OOOHHH we're halfway theerreee...
...Whooah livin' on a prayer!"
Ok, I'm jumping the gun a little on this one, I'm not quite to half way yet, but I'm awfully close. My official fundraising total on the DFMC website is $4283, but I happen to know that I have a few checks sitting at home ready to be mailed in which will bring my grand total just short of $4500!!! The fundraising has been going really great these past couple of weeks and I definitely have to thank my fam for that one, especially my dad and my grandmother. They have been really great and have forwarded my email on to tons of people who I never would have been able to reach if left to my own devices. Thanks a ton to everyone who has donated so far! Only $4500 more to go!!
"Take my hand, we'll make it I sweeaaar" (I am never going to get this song out of my head...)
Ok, I'm jumping the gun a little on this one, I'm not quite to half way yet, but I'm awfully close. My official fundraising total on the DFMC website is $4283, but I happen to know that I have a few checks sitting at home ready to be mailed in which will bring my grand total just short of $4500!!! The fundraising has been going really great these past couple of weeks and I definitely have to thank my fam for that one, especially my dad and my grandmother. They have been really great and have forwarded my email on to tons of people who I never would have been able to reach if left to my own devices. Thanks a ton to everyone who has donated so far! Only $4500 more to go!!
"Take my hand, we'll make it I sweeaaar" (I am never going to get this song out of my head...)
Thursday, February 7, 2008
"I know you can be overwhelmed and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be 'whelmed?'"
After professing my love to all things Marathon Challenge related yesterday, I arrived home from the gym last night feeling very overwhelmed about what I have gotten myself into here. First of all, it was cold and rainy yesterday, which forced me to go to the gym instead of doing a run outside. Don't get me wrong, I am more than happy to run in the rain, even cold rain, but I've been reading that it's flu season here in Boston so I am trying to avoid all situations which might leave me more susceptible to sickness. Anyways, I had a not so great workout at the gym, left feeling pretty horribly about where I'm at in my training progress, and then had to trudge home in the freezing rain. When I walked in the door to my apartment, sitting there on the coffee table was my official entry card for the marathon from the BAA; a glaring reminder of how miserably unprepared I feel.
I opened up my computer to check my email and found an email from my dad from the other day, already pulled up on my screen, with a blog entry written by Jon Gordon, a kind of crazy inspirational speaker guy:
Here's a question I bet you've never been asked before. At what mile do most people quit a marathon? If you are like me you would probably say the 26th mile. After all that's when runners should be the most physically drained and exhausted. But like most things in life, there's more to the story. Besides the first mile, the 26th is when the least amount of people quit. While there could be a hundred explanations as to why this is, I believe one reason stands in front of all the others. This reason is Vision and the power of the mind.
Most runners don't quit during the 26th mile because they have a vision of where they are going. They see the end in sight so they keep striving for it. Sure they are physically exhausted but their vision fuels them and tells them to keep going to reach their destination.
Most runners quit a marathon at the 20th mile because this is when they lose sight of their vision. This is when they are both physically exhausted and mentally drained. This is when runners feel they have come so far and yet still have so far to go. This is when their goal fades away and their mental power dissipates...
After all, there will be days when our bodies say no and we need our mind to say yes. There will be times when it seems that everything in life conspires to sabotage our goals and dreams. And there will be weeks or even months when we feel like we are hitting the 20th mile. The answer is to maintain your vision and focus on it. Keep your vision alive and it will keep you alive. Don't give up. Keep striving towards the vision planted in your mind and heart.
So maybe I've hit my 20th mile in training, but I am certainly not going to turn around and quit now. Yes, there will be days when I don't feel my best, when I wonder why I got myself into this, when I think it would be so easy to just give up. But when it comes down to it, this whole thing, running with DFMC, is so much bigger than just me running a race, and if I keep that vision alive, I will be just fine come marathon day. Plus, this is all supposed to be fun, right? So, last night, armed with my little revelation, I went to belt out some tunes playing RockBand with my roommate and the neighbors. If my career as a marathon runner doesn't pan out, maybe I can be a rock star...
I opened up my computer to check my email and found an email from my dad from the other day, already pulled up on my screen, with a blog entry written by Jon Gordon, a kind of crazy inspirational speaker guy:
Here's a question I bet you've never been asked before. At what mile do most people quit a marathon? If you are like me you would probably say the 26th mile. After all that's when runners should be the most physically drained and exhausted. But like most things in life, there's more to the story. Besides the first mile, the 26th is when the least amount of people quit. While there could be a hundred explanations as to why this is, I believe one reason stands in front of all the others. This reason is Vision and the power of the mind.
Most runners don't quit during the 26th mile because they have a vision of where they are going. They see the end in sight so they keep striving for it. Sure they are physically exhausted but their vision fuels them and tells them to keep going to reach their destination.
Most runners quit a marathon at the 20th mile because this is when they lose sight of their vision. This is when they are both physically exhausted and mentally drained. This is when runners feel they have come so far and yet still have so far to go. This is when their goal fades away and their mental power dissipates...
After all, there will be days when our bodies say no and we need our mind to say yes. There will be times when it seems that everything in life conspires to sabotage our goals and dreams. And there will be weeks or even months when we feel like we are hitting the 20th mile. The answer is to maintain your vision and focus on it. Keep your vision alive and it will keep you alive. Don't give up. Keep striving towards the vision planted in your mind and heart.
So maybe I've hit my 20th mile in training, but I am certainly not going to turn around and quit now. Yes, there will be days when I don't feel my best, when I wonder why I got myself into this, when I think it would be so easy to just give up. But when it comes down to it, this whole thing, running with DFMC, is so much bigger than just me running a race, and if I keep that vision alive, I will be just fine come marathon day. Plus, this is all supposed to be fun, right? So, last night, armed with my little revelation, I went to belt out some tunes playing RockBand with my roommate and the neighbors. If my career as a marathon runner doesn't pan out, maybe I can be a rock star...
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Things that are awesome about DFMC and running a marathon
(let's keep in mind that I haven't actually run the marathon itself yet, so this is the list so far...)
1) The nicest people in the whole world run for and work for Dana Farber: Last night as I left the post runner's meeting Boston Beer Works gathering with Lindsey (another DFMCer, the one with the cold butt if you recall from an earlier post) I couldn't help but notice the warm fuzzy feeling I had inside after hanging out with the DFMC crew. "But Lauren," you say, "couldn't that feeling be attributed that to the beer? You were, afterall, at Boston Beer Works." You make a good point, Reader (maybe I should just address the reader as Ashley because I think she's the only person who reads this), however it was not merely a beer induced warmness. The Dana Farber group really is the most amazing group of people I have ever met. It is simply impossible to leave a meeting, a run, or an outing with these people without a smile on your face. Upon arriving at the meeting last night I knew approximately three people in the DFMC group, and by the time I left last night I felt like a member of a big, happy family.
2) If you're training for a marathon you can eat whatever you want whenever you want: Even though the nutritionist said this wasn't true, I'm sticking to my guns on this one. My next incredibly unhealthy post long run food; a pie (a suggestion from a fellow runner)
3) Crossroads runs: When else can you justify following up your 9 mile run with beer and pizza? The nutritionist did say carbs are important...
4) Lots and lots and lots of time to think: I don't think I have spent this much time alone with myself in years. Your mind really wanders when you're out on a long run by yourself... it's a good time to do some real soul searching. Or to have a conversation with your legs...
5) An excuse to stay in bed all day on a Sunday: What's your reason for spending your day in bed? I ran 15 miles... beat that.
6) Lots of awesome new buddies: See reason #1
7) The chance to reconnect with people you may have lost touch with: I can't believe the number of people who have contacted me after they found out I was running the marathon for Dana Farber, most of them to say that they couldn't believe that I actually thought I was going to run 26 miles. But in all seriousness... people have really come out of the woodwork to support me, and it has been great getting to hear from people who I haven't talked to in awhile.
8) The feeling you get knowing that you are doing one heck of a crazy thing for a great cause: Maybe not everyone thinks running a marathon is crazy, but I certainly do, and I'm voluntarily doing it. But everytime I log onto my fundraising page and I see the picture of my mom, my sister and I next to that fundraising goal, I can't help but feel proud at what I'm doing, and it makes all of the crazy that goes along with it totally worth it. It's a great feeling to know that you are contributing to something as important as finding a cure for cancer.
1) The nicest people in the whole world run for and work for Dana Farber: Last night as I left the post runner's meeting Boston Beer Works gathering with Lindsey (another DFMCer, the one with the cold butt if you recall from an earlier post) I couldn't help but notice the warm fuzzy feeling I had inside after hanging out with the DFMC crew. "But Lauren," you say, "couldn't that feeling be attributed that to the beer? You were, afterall, at Boston Beer Works." You make a good point, Reader (maybe I should just address the reader as Ashley because I think she's the only person who reads this), however it was not merely a beer induced warmness. The Dana Farber group really is the most amazing group of people I have ever met. It is simply impossible to leave a meeting, a run, or an outing with these people without a smile on your face. Upon arriving at the meeting last night I knew approximately three people in the DFMC group, and by the time I left last night I felt like a member of a big, happy family.
2) If you're training for a marathon you can eat whatever you want whenever you want: Even though the nutritionist said this wasn't true, I'm sticking to my guns on this one. My next incredibly unhealthy post long run food; a pie (a suggestion from a fellow runner)
3) Crossroads runs: When else can you justify following up your 9 mile run with beer and pizza? The nutritionist did say carbs are important...
4) Lots and lots and lots of time to think: I don't think I have spent this much time alone with myself in years. Your mind really wanders when you're out on a long run by yourself... it's a good time to do some real soul searching. Or to have a conversation with your legs...
5) An excuse to stay in bed all day on a Sunday: What's your reason for spending your day in bed? I ran 15 miles... beat that.
6) Lots of awesome new buddies: See reason #1
7) The chance to reconnect with people you may have lost touch with: I can't believe the number of people who have contacted me after they found out I was running the marathon for Dana Farber, most of them to say that they couldn't believe that I actually thought I was going to run 26 miles. But in all seriousness... people have really come out of the woodwork to support me, and it has been great getting to hear from people who I haven't talked to in awhile.
8) The feeling you get knowing that you are doing one heck of a crazy thing for a great cause: Maybe not everyone thinks running a marathon is crazy, but I certainly do, and I'm voluntarily doing it. But everytime I log onto my fundraising page and I see the picture of my mom, my sister and I next to that fundraising goal, I can't help but feel proud at what I'm doing, and it makes all of the crazy that goes along with it totally worth it. It's a great feeling to know that you are contributing to something as important as finding a cure for cancer.
Monday, February 4, 2008
I told my legs to do a long run and they said "No, No, No"
Saturday afternoon was unseasonably warm and sunny. I left my apartment in shorts, which usually means I'm in for a good run (I love running in shorts). So what I had 15 miles to cover? I had already run 13 before and at that point, what's another 2? I ran down Green Street and down the hill, across Main Street, and under Rte. 93. As I approached the Cambridgeside Galeria, I began to notice that my legs felt more like two giant hunks of lead than well-trained, marathon running machines. About two miles away from my apartment I stopped running and decided to walk back home, completely defeated, but convinced that tomorrow would be a better day and I would get my 15 miles in then.
Sunday morning I woke up after a great night's sleep, drank some gatorade, had a delicious peanutbutter and jelly sandwich, and prepared myself for another attempt at my run. I was happy because it was warm enough to wear shorts yet again and I was pumped to watch the Pats play in the Superbowl later that night; everything was lining up for me to have a great run. I left my apartment, ran down Green Street, down the hill, across Main Street, and under Rt. 93. As I approached the Cambridgeside Galeria, yet again, my lead legs came back. It felt like there were bowling balls tied to my ankles, my legs were pleading with me to stop and turn around to go home. I pushed a bit farther, out onto the path by the Charles and to the Longfellow Bridge. I stopped to walk a bit, thinking that I had at least gone past where I had run on Saturday, maybe it wouldn't be so bad for me to head home. Then I remembered Nancy.
Nancy is a woman who I met running the Thursday before I went to Turks and Caicos. On a run where Marcy (a fellow DFMC runner, and pretty consistent running partner of mine) and I had decided to "just take it easy," Nancy and LyneAnne pushed us to run one of our fastest runs to date. It felt great! During our run, Nancy told us how she had run the Boston Marathon while undergoing treatment for breast cancer. Despite being physically ill, and feeling terrible she pushed through and ran a marathon all while being treated for cancer! As I walked along the river on Sunday afternoon, I thought of her story and realized that if it was possible for her to push herself through a marathon under those conditions, then I could certainly muster enough energy in my legs on a beautiful Sunday afternoon to run 15 miles. So I had a little heart to heart with my legs:
"Hey, LEGS! Yeah, you piles of lead down there. Listen... we are going to do this long run whether you like it or not. I just gave you two a nice long break on the beach and now you're complaining about being tired? Suck it up!"
(As I was having this little conversation with my legs I realized that running has, indeed, made me a crazy person, but I digress...)
And with that, I ran all the way up the river, past Harvard to whatever bridge it is that comes after that, across the bridge and all the way back to Charlestown, zig zagging back and forth across the bridges on the way home. I'll admit, it was more like a 14 or so mile run, not quite the full 15, and by no means was it pretty, but I did it. My legs aren't the boss of me...
Sunday morning I woke up after a great night's sleep, drank some gatorade, had a delicious peanutbutter and jelly sandwich, and prepared myself for another attempt at my run. I was happy because it was warm enough to wear shorts yet again and I was pumped to watch the Pats play in the Superbowl later that night; everything was lining up for me to have a great run. I left my apartment, ran down Green Street, down the hill, across Main Street, and under Rt. 93. As I approached the Cambridgeside Galeria, yet again, my lead legs came back. It felt like there were bowling balls tied to my ankles, my legs were pleading with me to stop and turn around to go home. I pushed a bit farther, out onto the path by the Charles and to the Longfellow Bridge. I stopped to walk a bit, thinking that I had at least gone past where I had run on Saturday, maybe it wouldn't be so bad for me to head home. Then I remembered Nancy.
Nancy is a woman who I met running the Thursday before I went to Turks and Caicos. On a run where Marcy (a fellow DFMC runner, and pretty consistent running partner of mine) and I had decided to "just take it easy," Nancy and LyneAnne pushed us to run one of our fastest runs to date. It felt great! During our run, Nancy told us how she had run the Boston Marathon while undergoing treatment for breast cancer. Despite being physically ill, and feeling terrible she pushed through and ran a marathon all while being treated for cancer! As I walked along the river on Sunday afternoon, I thought of her story and realized that if it was possible for her to push herself through a marathon under those conditions, then I could certainly muster enough energy in my legs on a beautiful Sunday afternoon to run 15 miles. So I had a little heart to heart with my legs:
"Hey, LEGS! Yeah, you piles of lead down there. Listen... we are going to do this long run whether you like it or not. I just gave you two a nice long break on the beach and now you're complaining about being tired? Suck it up!"
(As I was having this little conversation with my legs I realized that running has, indeed, made me a crazy person, but I digress...)
And with that, I ran all the way up the river, past Harvard to whatever bridge it is that comes after that, across the bridge and all the way back to Charlestown, zig zagging back and forth across the bridges on the way home. I'll admit, it was more like a 14 or so mile run, not quite the full 15, and by no means was it pretty, but I did it. My legs aren't the boss of me...
"Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference"
-Winston Churchill
Saturday, February 2, 2008
It's Official!
Dear Lauren K. Krzynowek,
You can verify your acceptance into the field by searching the 112th Boston Marathon "Entrants" database on the B.A.A. web site,www.baa.org/2008/cf/Public
In early April 2008, an official Number Pick-up Card and extensive information regarding the B.A.A. Boston Marathon and related race week activities will be mailed to you via US Postal Service first class mail. If you do not receive your Number Pick-up Card (required to claim number) and brochure by April 11, please contact our Registration Office at registration@baa.org. Registration related inquiries may also be directed to 508-435-6905.
Note that bib numbers will not be distributed on Race Day. Your travel arrangements should take into account picking up your number at the Hynes Convention Center in Boston on Friday, April 18 from 10:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m., or Saturday, April 19 or Sunday, April 20 from 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.
We look forward to seeing you in April! Best of luck in your training!
Sincerely,
Boston Athletic Association
There's no backing out now!!
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