If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid seeing yourself in the mirror, because I bet that's what REALLY throws you into a panic. -Jack Handey

I am tired. I'm not just tired, I'm tired of running. I can't seem to remember why I even liked running in the first place. I dread lacing up my running shoes because I know whatever amount of running I do manage to get out of my legs is just going to be a disappointment. I used to love running with friends, but now I feel stressed out when I run with other people because I'm sure I'm holding them back from going faster. Just over a month ago I ran 26.2 miles and now I can barely run 4. I hurt, and I'm tired and I'm sad. But most of all, I'm just scared that I'm not ever going to get back my desire to run. Or worse yet, I'll want to run, but I'm not going to be able to get my legs to cooperate.

I haven't really blogged for over a month because this is how I've felt. Until today I've been following the above wise words of Jack Handey, thinking that if I didn't acknowledge how bad all of this running stuff was going, then maybe I could avoid panicking about it. Silly, I know. You would think by the time I reached 24 I would have learned that ignoring a problem doesn't make it go away. But, now that it's out there, I can recognize that there is really nothing to panic about. I just need to relax and be patient, the running will come. It might take me longer to get back into running than my teammates- but hey, it took me longer than them to finish the marathon too... the important thing is that I'll get there. In the meantime, I'll follow the wise words of a much wiser Jack, our coach, Jack Fultz. Like Jack always tells us- "Keep on keepin' on"- the running will come.

I want my body back

Dear Whoever is in charge of this sort of thing,

When am I going to be able to run again?  I'd like to be able to breathe normally and not have my legs feel like lead.  The sooner the better.  Thanks.

Sincerely,

Lauren

11

I've made no secret about the fact that I'm not exactly a speedy runner. Odds are good that I'm not going to win a race anytime soon, and I probably won't ever run fast enough to qualify for Boston... I'm okay with that. But, upon accepting my fate as a "back of the pack" runner, I made the conscious decision that if I'm not going to be great at running, then I sure better find something else that I am going to be great at. Luckily for me, DFMC isn't just about running, and thus began my quest for fundraising greatness...

To be honest, I wasn't even striving for greatness in the beginning. It was more like striving just to raise $3,000 so my credit card wouldn't get charged. My fundraising goal was set at $9000 to start with. I was determined to reach my goal, but signing onto my fundraising page back in January and seeing my fundraising total reported at a whopping $500 was a bit unnerving. It seemed like $9000 would never happen. But then I started spending my Saturday and Sunday mornings in the coffee shop with my lap top- sending emails, looking for people's addresses, writing thank you notes- and, sure enough, the donations started coming in. With the help of my family and friends passing along my fundraising email to everyone they knew, I was able to raise over $15,000 before marathon weekend even began. That's when it started to hit me that maybe, just maybe, I could raise enough money to be in the top ten DFMC fundraisers.

Fast forward to yesterday- my official total fundraising amount as of yesterday was $24,551. Awesome! I did a little research on my fellow teammates fundraising and found ten people with fundraising totals higher than mine. Not awesome. Being in 11th place is not even close to as cool as being in the Top Ten. I researched a little more and found that the 10th highest fundraising amount was $24,635. Awesome! I knew I had some checks to be deposited that would put me at just over $25,000. But, upon further investigation I found that the person with the 10th highest fundraising amount is a DFMC vet and has a goal of $30,000. Not awesome. Odds are pretty good he'll reach and probably surpass his goal. Crap.

Ok, I get it. I know it's not a competition. We are all on the same team and we are all raising money for a great cause. In fact, I should be thrilled that so many of my teammates have raised over $25,000. I should be thrilled that I, myself, have raised over $25,000 (especially considering it wasn't looking too good there back in January). And I am. And I'm not just saying that. Working in development at Dana-Farber has given me the chance to see just how much money cancer research costs (trust me, it is NOT cheap), and the fact that 100% of the money we raise through DFMC goes straight to that research means that our fundraising plays a super important role in the search for a cure for cancer. So, though it would be nice to be in the top 10, it's pretty great that I have 10 teammates who have raised such an impressive amount of money. When you look at it like that, 11th isn't such a bad place to be.

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.