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...