Retail therapy

I've sworn up and down this blog that training for a marathon is great therapy.  That's all well and good when I actually have a marathon to train for, but what now?  This week marks the beginning of a rough time of year for me, starting with my mom's birthday and soon after that, mother's day.  I tell you, you never notice how many commercials and advertisements are geared towards mother's day until it's somewhat of a sore subject for you (as I just typed that sentence three commercials were just on that mentioned buying something for mom).  So anyways, with no marathon in sight, what's a girl to do?  Buy a new pair of jeans, naturally.  Maybe I should find another marathon to run...

Still smiling (albeit a little tired looking) after 26.2 miles...

Run, Lauren, run...

"Now you wouldn't believe me if I told you, but I could run like the wind blows.  From that day on, if I was ever going somewhere, I was running."

-Forrest Gump

Was it all a dream?

After work today I decided to head over to the gym to hop on the bike and hopefully loosen up my sore legs a bit. When I got off the T at Hynes, I walked down Newbury Street and took a right onto Hereford without really thinking about much more than the fact that it was an absolutely beautiful afternoon. But as soon as I turned that corner, I suddenly realized where I was. I was instantly transported back to Monday afternoon, my legs burning, cursing that little incline on Hereford right before the final turn onto Boylston, the cheers of the crowd on all sides of me, the elation in realizing that on this one day, every one one of those thousands of people knew my name (it helped that it was written on my shirt). But here I was, two days later, and it was all gone. I continued to walk down Boylston a ways, passing the gym, just to get a look at the street. The crowds had vanished, the fried dough vendors had rolled away their carts, the projection screen on the side of the convention center had been taken down, the grandstand had been packed away for next year. It was as if I had dreamt the entire weekend. The only proof I have that the whole thing happened is a few blurry pictures, some very sore legs, an awesome medal, and memories so great that I wouldn't be surprised if they actually were a dream.

It's hard to believe that almost all evidence of one of the most momentous weekends of your life can simply disappear like that. The city of Boston was pretty much completely shut down for one day for a bunch of crazy people running, and now it is back to business as usual. Life is back to normal in the city, but not for me. I've said before that it would be impossible to come out of the DFMC experience unchanged, and now that I've actually run the marathon, now that I've heard the "thank you's" and the Dana-Farber cheers, now that I've seen the patient-partners and their families going wild at Kenmore, now that I've felt what it feels like to push your body farther than you ever imagined it could go, now I really know how true that is. I am a Boston Marathoner. And unlike many people who run the marathon, people who just get out there on Monday, run the race and go home, the fundraising that my DFMC teammates and I have all done will allow the greatness of that day to continue on, hopefully resulting in a few more "thank you's" out on the course next year.

So maybe it wasn't my best race, maybe my legs hurt so badly now I want to cry everytime I get near a flight of stairs, maybe I have blisters the size of small planets on my feet, and maybe I haven't slept more than a couple of hours for the past few nights because this pesky runners' high just won't let me rest; I still wouldn't change a second of it. And if it was all a dream, I sure hope I don't wake up anytime soon... I really like my medal.

I did it!

I ran (and ran and ran) and I finished the Boston Marathon!  I have to admit, there were times there when it reeeeaaaalllly was not fun, but overall, it was the most amazing experience of my life.  Let's face it, anytime you have thousands and thousands of people screaming your name and yelling "Thank you Dana-Farber" you really can't lose.  Awesome day, awesome race, even more awesome dance party afterwards.  Can't wait till next year.

One final plea

Ok, so I lied... that last post was not the last post before the marathon.  But, hey, cut me some slack here.  I'm sitting in front of the tv watching 60 minutes trying to keep myself from going crazy before running THE BOSTON MARATHON and let's face it, Andy Rooney really doesn't have the most calming effect, so blogging seemed like a good way to keep myself occupied for a few.  So here it goes, the last blog before the marathon... one final plea to my body before I force it to run one crazy race.

Dear Feet- please try not to hurt too much.  I know I have beat you beyond recognition these past few months, and you have taken it pretty well thus far.  I only ask you to hold out for one more day and to not give me too much trouble- after that you can hurt all you want and I will dress you in sandals and maybe even Crocs if you do especially well.

Dear Legs- please please please cooperate with me tomorrow.  I know you like to have your days where you just don't feel like it, but can we please not make that day tomorrow?  I swear I'll let you rest as soon as we're done running... ok, fine, as soon as we're done dancing at Shifter's party.

Dear Head- It is going to be fine... no, rather, it is going to be GREAT!  Quit worrying.  All I ask of you tomorrow is cool, calm, concentration.  Everyone else (Legs and Feet, that means you) will fall into place if you just do that for me.

Body, I think tomorrow is going to go fabulously if we can all just do our jobs and remain calm. Thanks for putting up with me through all of this training, you've been great.  26.2 or bust!

The last pre-marathon blog (unless I think of something very profound to say over the weekend)

I've been trying to write a blog all day. The final blog... well, the final pre-race blog anyways. That's a lot of pressure. I mean, what is there to say, as I sit here about to take on the Boston Marathon, THE marathon, that won't sound inadequate? Nothing. Nothing I can say can really measure up to the magnitude of this moment for me. So, instead, I'm just going to say thank you.
Thank you to my dad and my roommate for putting up with me and listening to me babble endlessly about running. You guys deserve a medal... or a cookie, I bet you'd both like that better :)
Thank you to my friends who have been more than understanding of my vanishing off the face of the earth for 6 months to dedicate myself to training.
Thank you to the marathon & running programs people at DFCI who make the whole DFMC thing happen.
Thank you to all of the DFMC volunteers for waking up at the crack of dawn and standing out in the cold while we all ran around like a bunch of crazy people.
Thank you to the friends, family and complete strangers who donated. I surpassed my fundraising goal and I owe it to all of you.
Thank you to my DFMC buddies for simply being the best. I could never have gotten to this point without you... whether going out for a run or going out for drinks, you guys have made these past few months some of the most memorable of my life.
And finally, thank you to my mom. Mom, I know you're out there reading this or listening to my thoughts somehow. Thank you for being an amazing mother, and for leaving me with the most beautiful memories of you. I know it was you who somehow led me to where I am now, raising an incredible amount of money for cancer research and about to run the Boston Marathon. You have been with me through every step of this process. Thank you for keeping me strong and giving me the motivation to do this. Love you.

So, with that, I bid you all adieu until after the marathon. 3 days and 26.2 miles to go... Wish me luck!!!

A little help

In response to me briefly losing my mind yesterday (ok, it wasn't all that brief, but anyways...) I got a lovely email from my friend Nancy:

"..just read your blog my friend...

repeat after me...

Everything is going to be great. I love running. I love and eat the hills of Newton.. I have worked hard and am worthy of a memorable race filled with Kodak memories. I can do this. I will do this.

See you at the finish line....you can do it Lauren. Stay strong !!!!!"

I also got a message from one of my best friends in Chicago, Laura (she's in vet school, hence the reference to dog and cat diabetes):

"Ok - So I am in my 8am class learning about diabetes in cats and dogs . . . and I took a look at your blog - and I just wanted to let you know you will be fine on monday. I checked the weather and it is supposed to be cloudy (yeah!) with a high of 57 (and you will be done by the time it gets that hot I am sure). I just wanted to know I am sending good vibrations your way."

Thanks for keeping me (kind of) sane, guys. I need all of the help I can get!

A Quote

"Sure I am of this, that you have only to endure to conquer. You have only to persevere to save yourselves"

-Winston Churchill

Losing it

In the past 7 days I have gone from repeating to myself "Everything is going to be great" to "Everything is going to be good" to, now, "Everything is going to be fine." Everything is going to be fine, we will all be fine, the weather will be fine, I will feel fine, the race will be fine. I will be totally 100% fine. Right?

I saw the sign

With the marathon fast approaching and my concentration set firmly on avoiding injury for the next 5 days, I have become acutely aware of the perils we face in everyday life. Just this morning, while riding the T to work, an unaware woman stepped squarely on my foot with her leopard print stiletto heel. I glared at the back of her head as she obliviously continued to gab on her cell phone (who she could possibly be talking to that early in the morning, I don't know). "DON'T YOU KNOW I'M RUNNING A MARATHON IN 5 DAYS!" I wanted to yell at her. And then it occurred to me; how would she know? How would anyone know? It's not like I'm wearing a sign around my neck that says "CAUTION: Marathon Runner in Training." Maybe I should... maybe we all should.

Just think of all of the times that wearing that sign would prevent you, not only from potential injury, but from having to explain yourself and your sometimes kooky behavior. Sitting down for a pedicure would no longer require, before you place your feet in front of the poor girl charged with touching them, that you explain that you're training for the marathon, you're feet might be a little gross. Walking (aka hobbling) down the stairs in front of your colleagues the week after a long run would not require you to explain that you're training for the marathon and therefore your quads feel like they might fall off if you walk down the stairs like a normal person. And riding the T would no longer require that you dodge oblivious women and their 4 inch heels because you would obviously be offered a seat by some kind soul who is sympathetic to all of that running you must be doing (okay, that last part is wishful thinking).

It's clear that the benefits far outweigh the potential fashion faux pas created by wearing a giant sign around your neck (oh, did I not mention it would be giant? It has to be so that you can warn not only those in your immediate vicinity, but also those who are farther away) With only 5 days to go (and only 2 more days of the perilous morning commute T ride) it's a little late for a sign this year, but I think it's something we should all seriously consider for next year's training. Until then, have a safe 5 days, fellow runners... and watch out for women in heels.

6 Days

What does one do with oneself when counting down the last 6 days, after months of preparation, to one of the biggest things he/she has ever done? I have to say I'm struggling with this one. Usually, when I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed or anxious I go for a nice long run, "exercise my demons", if you will. This being taper time though, I know that I shouldn't be out knocking off 8-9 mile runs all week. Another thing I often do to relieve stress is bake. During some of the more difficult times in my life I could have practically opened a bakery with all of the baked goods pouring out of the kitchen. There's something about methodically following a recipe, the gentle whir of the mixer, the occasional dough sampling... it's all very relaxing to me. But, with less than one week to go until the marathon, eating a batch of cookies in one sitting probably isn't the best way to prepare to run 26.2 miles (and let's be honest, baking without allowing yourself to eat your creations is a sick form of torture, and I'm just not interested in subjecting myself to that sort of thing.) Another tried and true method of stress relief: a nice trip down to the Warren Tavern for Cape Codders. Again though, staying out all night drinking with my buddies, while fun, is not the best mode of hydration for a marathon. So where does that leave me?

I can only sit around, twiddling my thumbs, watching episodes of the Bachelor for distraction for so long... sooner or later the marathon creeps back into my head and I start panicking: is my knee is hurting more than normal today? should I get a massage? which of the 85 pairs of shorts that I ordered are the best ones to wear? should I switch back to my old running shoes? do I have enough Gu? have I run enough? have I run too much? should I order more shorts? what if there's a monsoon on monday? will the lettering on my singlet be done in time? what if I don't see anyone I know on the course?...

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

So that's where the yelling came from yesterday, just needed to get it out. I felt much better after that and a quick little 4 mile run to test out one of my (many) pairs of new shorts and clear my thoughts. I know I'm going to look back on this and laugh at myself for acting like a crazy person, but until then I have 6 more days... I might have to bake some cookies.

To Tfer

Okay, so I'm working on another post to explain the below "blood curdling war cry" as Jeff described it, but something has come up that needs to be addressed first. Due to unforseen circumstances, it doesn't look as though my dearest roommate, Ashley, is going to be here for the marathon on Monday. While I am sad that she won't be there to see me run, I'm even more sad that she won't be there to celebrate finishing with me afterwards. You see, poor Ashley has had to deal with me more than anyone else these past few months (with the exception of maybe my dad, but that was just on the phone). I have bored her with endless tales of long runs, short runs, running shorts, and running injuries. I have bombarded her with a constant rollercoaster of emotion every time I have come home from a running event. But you know what the great thing about Ashley is?(one of many great things, I should say) She's listened to every single word of my running ramblings and is always happy to listen to more (or at least she acts like it :) ) For putting up with me these past few months, no one deserves to celebrate me finishing the marathon more than Ashley. So, Teefs, you will be greatly missed on Marathon Monday, not only during the race, but after. Thanks for dealing with me through this whole thing... let's get a few Cape Codders when you get back :)

Release

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

That was me yelling. I feel much better now.

Realists need not apply...

ISO (that means "in search of," for those of you who don't make a habit of reading personal ads... not that I do or anything... but let's all admit that they can be pretty entertaining, and maybe, just maybe, there's someone interesting in there... right? no?... ANYWAYS): 

Friends, family members, and acquaintances willing to lie, stretch the truth, be unrealistic and simply just tell me what I want to hear for the next week of my life.  Those with experience having lofty, seemingly unattainable goals are especially encouraged to contact me.  If you would like to talk about how beautiful the weather is going to be on April 21, give me a call (and by "beautiful" I mean beautiful by my definition: overcast and 47-50 degrees).  If you would like to discuss how GREAT I'm going to feel after I successfully run 26.2 miles in said "beautiful" weather, let's do dinner.  But if you want to be realistic and/or reasonable, want to speak logically, or based on precedent (especially when referring to the weather), don't talk to me until next Tuesday.  I'm not interested in hearing from the voice of reason right now, I would much rather talk to the voice of unreasonable optimism.  Thanks.

Is it obvious that Lindsey and I talked this morning?  

Finally, another blog post...

I have had a mean case of writer's... er, blogger's block, this past week. It's not that I've had nothing to write about- actually, quite the contrary, the past week has been filled with interesting things: an eventful final battle with the hills on Thursday with DFMC buddy Lindsey, a not so great long run with the group in Southie on a drizzly Saturday morning, a very fun post-race party after Shifter's race (which I didn't run) on Saturday afternoon (fun brought to you courtesy of Jack Daniels)- see, I have had plenty of fodder for good blogging and yet each time I sat down to write I came up empty handed. I found myself wondering out loud "Have I lost the ability to blog?!"

No, no, dear reader, don't you worry, that's not the case. Turns out, I've still got plenty of blogging left in this head of mine (phew!), I was just trying to blog about the wrong things. While this past week has been full of fun things to blog about, my head has been elsewhere, thinking of just how much time I'm going to have on my hands once this is all over.  I know, I'm getting a little ahead of myself here, the marathon still hasn't even happened yet.  But seriously, whatever will I do with myself once the marathon is done?  How will I occupy my Saturday and Sunday mornings without group runs?  What will I eat for dinner on Thursdays if I'm not at Crossroads?  How will I torture myself on Tuesdays without my weekly trip to the track?

Up until recently I have actually had a little count down in my head going until I get my life back, but as the time approaches, I'm starting to wonder, Is that the life I really want now?  I mean, obviously there are things that I miss- my friends for one, I feel like I haven't seen them in ages, and the ability to go away on the weekend without feeling guilty about missing a run for another- but overall, do I really want to go back to my old ways? I don't think I do... at least not entirely, and I'm not even sure I could if I wanted to.  These have been some of the most amazing, excruciating, frustrating and happy months of my life, and I simply don't think it's possible to come out of that unchanged.  It's funny because if you had told me that cold November morning of the first timer's run that it was the beginning of a life-changing experience, I probably would have laughed in your face. Afterall, I had spent the night before being angry at a boy and drinking too much wine, then I had quite literally dragged myself out of bed to go run 4 miles (only 4 miles!) in the cold... it certainly didn't seem like the beginning of anything magical.  But magical is just what it has been, and it's hard to believe it's almost over.

At least one thing that's sure to stick around after the marathon is over is all of the new buddies that I have made through DFMC (that is, if they're not totally sick of me by that time :)

Which brings me back to the fun things I mentioned in the beginning that I have been trying to blog about all week.  Here's a picture of me and some of said buddies after Shifter's race this past weekend:

Which reminds me of yet another thing I can't wait to do again once the marathon is over... shower before going out to a bar :)

Maybe this will take the place of a phone call... probably not

I have spent a lot of time in this blog talking about how great the DFMC people are, thanking various individuals who have really helped me on the long training and fundraising road, and praising all things Jack Fultz, because... well, because"In Jack We Trust," but there is one person who deserves a bigger thank you than anyone, and up to this point I have almost completely ignored him. Well, I'm about to change that right now... Dad, this one's for you.

To be honest, I'm pretty sure I drive my dad crazy sometimes... well, really, what daughter doesn't? But there are days when I quite literally will call my father upwards of 10 times. What could you possibly have to talk about that much? you're wondering. Trust me, I'm pretty sure my dad asks the same question as he picks up his phone and sees my name on the caller i.d. again. Well, the answer is... EVERYTHING. I call my dad to tell him about pretty much anything and everything that happens to me during the course of the day- Bought a new dress? Call Dad. Ate a good meal? Dad should know. Coming down with a cold? Whine at Dad. Ran into an old friend? Dad might care. Ran 12 miles? You guessed it... I'll call my dad while still catching my breath. As my dad, he is partially obligated to listen to me go on and on about the minutae of my life, I'm aware of this. But my dad definitely goes above and beyond obligation... even pretending to care when I call (for the third time in one morning, in the middle of him golfing) to inform him that I've bought a pink running shirt. Now that's dedication!

After being with me through the entire training process (via cell phone) my dad will be flying out to Boston in two weeks to see me run in the marathon. Although my goal that day is to finish the marathon, the experience wouldn't be complete without my number one supporter waiting there at the finish line to celebrate with me- not to mention it will save a little money on the cell phone bill because I won't have to call him :)

Thanks, Dad! I'll talk to you later this afternoon...

a quote

"And so our mothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of a flower they themselves never hoped to see-- or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read"

-Alice Walker

Ready

With just three weeks left until the big day, Boston is buzzing with all things marathon related- banners adorn the street lamps, Comm Ave is bustling with runners, running stores are bursting with marathon paraphernalia. It's funny, I don't remember any of this happening last year; perhaps it's because I have a slightly more vested interest in it all this time. Regardless, marathon time is upon us for sure and as I walked down Boylston St. yesterday after work, taking it all in, I couldn't help but realize that I felt no anxiety. There was no feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, no ominous aching in my legs (aside from the residual soreness from Sunday's run), not even a little alarm in my head going off signaling impending doom. I looked down Boylston Street towards what will be the finish line on marathon day, and the only feeling I had was, "I am ready."

The funny thing is, I'm a worrier, I usually expect the worst case scenario and I'm very rarely confident in my ability to do something I have never done before (I'm a real winner, right?). As I stood there downtown though, the hustle and bustle of the city going on around me, I didn't feel any of that, I only felt ready. Maybe it's because I've been so dedicated to my training and done everything exactly how I was supposed to (ha! not quite), or maybe it's because, at this point, I am so ready to be done with training that I will convince myself of almost anything (this actually could be true, but I don't think so)- No, I think the reason I feel ready for this marathon is because I am ready to run in memory of my mom, and I am ready to run for all of those still battling cancer, and I know that no matter what happens on marathon day, I have accomlished something great and I have the support of friends, family and those who DFMC has brought me in contact with. But no matter what the reason, there is no doubt in my mind that I am ready to do this. 20 days and counting...

From Skirt Magazine:

Marathon Men Make Our Hearts Race

When a friend asked Jack Fultz to help him train for a marathon, the 1976 winner of the Boston Marathon had no idea he’d still be doing it nearly 20 years later –– or that he’d be wearing a skirt! –– as head coach of the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge team. The team (of men and women) is 550 members strong this year and aiming to raise $4.5 million for the Claudia Adams Barr Program in Innovative Basic Cancer Research through the April 21 race from Hopkinton to Boston. Watch for their blue shirts (we’re not sure if they’ll opt for skirts that day) and cheer on (left to right) Larry Hanson, Fred Warburg, Jack Fultz, Tyler Hart, Ben Quick and Matt Whitcomb. How does it feel to wear a skirt? "It’s very sexy," says Jack. "We’ve always wondered, and now we know."