Today was our baby Mary’s first day of daycare. Mary is only 4 months old (technically 17 weeks), and she didn’t seem to mind at all, but no matter how much we love the place we picked for daycare, it was pretty tough for Fran, who’s been able to spend the last 17 weeks home with Mary.
I don’t imagine it will get easier for Fran right away, but I’m doing what I can to make it as easy as possible. Lots of baby snuggle time when we get
home tonight!
Now and then, I’m going to post a link to things I’m thinking about as a parent-to-be. I’ll try to Tag and Categorize them all appropriately, so if you’re not into that sort of thing, you can filter as you will.
Wood Tape [Scott Nesin]
Posted in Free Range Kids, Parenting | Tags: Self-Reliance
The chickens must read this blog, because last night, at “curl up and get warm time”, the chickens all went up the ramp into the henhouse, and then when Fran turned on the light in the room of the house near the coop, they all came down the ramp and instead curled up in the corner with the cinder block.
*sigh* Silly birds.
Posted in Training
The coop
The chickens have been living outside in their coop for over a week now. They seem happy as can be (except that one or both of the Delawares are picking at the back feathers of two of the Ameraucanas, but that’s a different story), and have lots of room to run around, plus a big henhouse above to stay warm and comfy in at night.
For nearly all of that time, I’ve gone to check on them just before going up to bed, and I’ve found them not snuggled up in their spacious but comfy henhouse… no, a SMART bird would do that. Our birds (and chickens in general) are NOT SMART (except maybe Stripey – she’s pretty sharp, as you’ll see).
Instead, I’ve gone out to find them clustered in a pile at the corner of their coop, huddling around the cinder block that gets the last of the day’s sun. They’re warmish there, but exposed to any breeze, mist, or anything that could come along (and get past the roof above, like sideways rain).
Delaware in the henhouse
I’ve peeled them away, one at a time, and put them up in the henhouse. At the bottom of the pile, in the two holes in the cinder block, there’s always one chubby Buff Orpington in one hole, and two Ameraucanas snuggled together in the other hole (one of them Stripey).
Yesterday evening, I found some suitably thick sticks, broke them into pieces of the same width as their ramp, and added them to the spaces between the existing ramp “rungs”, to give them more purchase for walking up the ramp. (Never mind that they can fly, and could certainly just fly into the opening of the henhouse).
Next, I sprinkled “chicken scratch” (dried corn and other stuff that chickens love eating) in a line to the ramp and up it, with a little pile at the top. They ate all the scratch around the bottom, but didn’t go all the way up. *sigh*
Later that evening, as it started to cool off, Fran was working on stuff in the craft room, which has a window looking out onto the coop, and watched Stripey investigate the ramp again, and slowly, eventually climbed to the top and into the henhouse, to cluck at the rest of the girls. Eventually, the rest followed.
I think we’ve finally got ‘em trained to go into the henhouse!
Now, to get them drinking from the nipple waterer we set up for them!
Posted in Backyard Chickens | Tags: Chickens
I haven’t posted here for a while, and haven’t run in quite some time either.
Why? What happened?
Given all that, we’ve been a bit busy. 
With all the new and interesting changes, and stories we’re sure to have, Fran and I decided to start blogging again. Before, this was our run journal, telling our story of becoming runners, then marathoners from couch potatoes. Now, in the next chapter of our lives together, we’ll still be rockin’ the FiveFingers and being active, but we’re more likely to be telling stories about our homestead, our chickens, our garden projects, and our pregnancy and baby stories.
I guess we have to face it, we got more domesticated.
If you’re not interested in having a baby, or chickens, or gardening… you can always read our stories then pat yourself on the back for not doing those things.
Welcome to our next chapter – we’re excited!
-Rick
Posted in Training
I just read the last few posts from a year ago. Really? A year gone by already?
What the heck have I been doing since then? Great question! I graduated nursing school, passed the NCLEX, moved out of our apartment in Santa Cruz and into our new house in Los Osos, …what’s that? Have I been running?? Yes, yes I have. At least until a couple of weeks ago.
I registered to run San Diego Rock ‘n Roll again this year. An incentive event to keep me running. My plan was mostly working. First, since I’m not a veteran runner, I had a really hard time doing distance runs on my own. A 4-mile run was okay, 6-miles was pushing it, and at 8-miles I hated life! 
I reached out for partners in our new area and found a couple, but unfortunately they aren’t veteran distant runners either. *sigh* No coaches, no mentors checking in every week, no teammates to run with. I pulled up my big girl panties and figured I’d have to change-up my training style to accommodate this new obstacle.
Rick and I now have a gym membership – I figured I would do treadmill runs, not long runs, but a few miles with people next to me who were also running. This worked. Sort of. Treadmill runners are serious people I discovered. They get to the machine, set their water bottle in place, plug in the headphones and run. Sadly, I fell into this same routine as I discovered people at the gym don’t really talk while running. Darn it! Ah, but the music in my ears was comforting – headphones was a no-no with TNT, so I totally felt like I was cheating and it was fun 
I got in a couple more distance runs outside but never got past 8-miles.
Second, something weird was happening and not just with the motivation it takes to train for a marathon on your own (though that in itself is plenty difficult). The bottom of my right foot on occasion would ache. It would ache after a run, no matter the distance, and it would especially ache in the morning when I took my first steps out of bed or even after I sat for long periods of time. Sometimes, I had to grab on to things for support. Something was wrong. This is when I realized that training and actually running 26.2 miles might not be in my best interest. With disappointment, I changed my race to the half-marathon. I tried not to beat myself up over it. My pain was not imaginary and though I could probably “tough it out”, I knew there may be long-term repercussions if I did. Fine, I’ll still get to run my race! Or so I thought.
I did my research suspecting I had plantar fascitis. Sure enough both the world-wide web and the physician’s assistant I saw a couple of weeks ago confirmed my self-diagnosis. I already knew about the exercises and stretches and had done some of them nearly every day. Referral to physical therapy? Well, sure I could, but if I already know what needs to be done than I don’t necessarily need someone hovering over me do I? Maybe I do, but that won’t necessarily make this go away any faster. This sort of thing takes time to heal. Time and no running Which equals no training for my race.
So, here I am near the anniversary of my marathon run and I am still proud of that accomplishment. I’m also a bit sad and disappointed that I won’t be celebrating that anniversary by doing it again. *sigh*
I am not stagnant however. My gym membership gets used for weight training, some group classes (that cycle class really works up a good sweat!) and an occassional racquetball game with Rick. I also work out at home on the elliptical and just started the “Power Sculpt” DVD with Jillian Michaels and Bob Harper. Lastly, Rick and I are registered participants in the Warrior Dash in October. Perhaps variety is what I need now.
Next time I want to run a marathon, I’ll sync up with Team in Training again Maybe next year…?
Posted in Training
Race day - 4:30am pre-race
Finally, the time had come. we’d started our journey together on January 30th at our TNT kickoff, and started with our first steps on February 6th, running a mile around a track.
Sunday morning, June 6th – 4 months to the day after we’d gotten our butts off the couch and started to run for a cause – we were running our big event.
We got on the shuttle bus from the hotel at about 4:15am. The bus was packed full of Team In Training participants, and though the city we drove through was dark and sleeping, we were practically vibrating with excitement and nerves.
We pulled up to the drop-off point, walked across a bit of grassy park, and immediately got in line for the porta-potties. Coach Ed had advised us well. “As soon as you get there, get in line for the porta-potties. When you get out of the porta-potty, get right back in line. Then again. And again. The lines are going to be *that* long, and really, what else do you have to do while you’re waiting for the race to start? Stretch while you’re in line.”
View from the middle
Wiser words (about pre-race) were never spoken. Nearly everyone had nervous bowels, and the ritual of moving through the line, trying to move our bowels, and moving through the line again kept us sane and focused. High fives and “Way to go!” went around when one of us had achieved our modest goal (we’re a very supportive team!).
Eventually, we heard the race announcer calling for runners to take their positions in the corrals. I made my fond goodbyes and good lucks (you don’t tell someone to “break a leg” before a race – that’s only for theatre, trust me!) to Fran and the rest of the team running in earlier corrals than I, and headed to our corral with Kat, Gabe, and Brooklyn who I’d be starting with.
The race officially started at 6:15am, but really that was only for the very first corral of racers – the ones with REALLY low race numbers – from which one of the winners would eventually emerge in ridiculously fast time (just over 2 hours 9 minutes was the winning time for the FULL marathon!). The rest of the corrals started about a minute and a half to two minutes apart.
This was actually a GREAT way to do things (this was only our second race, and Avenue of the Giants that Fran and I ran the half for on May 2nd was *much* smaller – only just over 1500 racers, compared to the over 25,000 participants in San Diego), as it kept people from being so clumped up that they couldn’t move.
Feet in!
This also meant that way back in Corral 36, my group had to wait just over an hour before we actually got to start the race… standing, then walking about 20 feet, then standing, then walking about 20 feet… you get the idea. I think most of the stretching I did in the porta-potty line was basically undone by the standing around for an hour. But I did meet Brie from the New York City TNT run team, and had a nice chat.
Eventually, about 7:15am, we’d finally reached the start line, and got to experience the start of our chip clock, as opposed to the race clock. Even though we’d been spaced out by corral, people still go at their own pace, and there were a LOT of people. Being back in Corral 36 (well, I started in 33, but moved back to be with Kat and Gabe and Brooklyn) meant that I was amongst a mix of runners and walkers, and with so many of us, nobody was really able to go very far very fast at the start…
…which is actually PERFECT. We were *so* well trained and prepared for this by Coach Ed and our Mentors. I don’t know about the rest of the teeming throng, but our Santa Cruz team knew to start off S-L-O-W… and if it felt like we were going really slow, to go SLOWER, until it was painfully slow.
Everyone is full of adrenaline, excitement, bodily waste they didn’t manage to get out at the porta-potties, and competitiveness at the start of a race, and most people go way too fast too soon, and risk “bonking” before their race is done. We’d been well trained to start off really slow, let our muscles and strides warm up, and eventually to slowly pick up our pace. “Negative splits” was our mantra in training, so I wasn’t as frustrated at the slow start as many others.
Brie from NYC
But there were definitely some who wanted to win the race in the first mile, never mind that they were starting back in Corral 36. Brie and I walked and chatted together, and I steered us to the center of the road, so that the exuberant could rush past us easily on either side. I don’t think it was until about the 3K mark or so that things finally spread out enough that there was a little room to pick up speed and jog a bit.
One of the unique things about this race (and the rest of the Rock ‘n’ Roll series of races, I’m told) is the Rock ‘n’ Roll part. (duh!) At the beginning of the race, there were bands set up in gazebos along the course, about 3 in the first two miles, and more spaced further along later (not the bits where we ran on the freeway or onramps, though!). It was a great burst of energy and motivation to hear the band from way off, and have the music pull me through to the next patch of the run. Very very cool – who needs an iPod when you’ve got LIVE BANDS performing along the race?! I also saw Coach Ed along the race path early on, and it was a great boost.
Brie and I chatted a bit more, and I suggested picking up our pace a few times, but everybody runs their own race (and sometimes, we get to run our own race with our friends!) and she said that walking was more her speed that day, so I wished her a great race, and at Mile 4 I picked up my pace and started to run.
My run felt GOOD. Maybe it was the fact that I’d walked my first 4 miles and got my blood flowing again after standing around for a couple hours (including porta-potty lines) waiting for our start, or maybe it was just that this was my second half-marathon, and I didn’t really have any nervousness, but it really felt good to pick up my feet and put ‘em down again, faster and with purpose.
Water Stop
It was right around this time that I was happy to find Gabe and Brooklyn again! They’re both experienced race-walkers, so I wasn’t surprised that I’d fallen behind them while walking (my walk isn’t terribly fast either). This was when we hit our only real uphill area of the run, right about the time that the sun started to come out and bake us (so much for the earlier forecast of 65 degrees F!), so I walked some more through that patch, and picked it up again after Mile 6.
Mile 8 – over halfway done, and I was still feeling good. I’d been cruising right through the water stops and aid stations before this, as (thanks, Ed!) I was well prepared and supplied with my own hydration belt with electrolyte and water bottles, and pouches of GU electrolyte gel (with caffeine, woo!), energy bars, and spare hydration tablets. I’d been mindful of Coach Ed’s comment that I’d probably under-hydrated on my last half-marathon when I told him that I didn’t have to refill my bottles and had part of one left over last time, and made sure to drink a bit more with each sip, and eat and drink more often along my race… so to make sure I wouldn’t run dry, I filled a couple of my dry electrolyte bottles with water, dropped in my own electrolyte tablets, and topped off the bottle I reserve for water-only.
Around this point, the sun was really starting to bake, and I started to mix in a bit of walking with my run to make sure I conserved my energy for the last three miles, that I knew from experience would feel five times harder than the first ten. Everything’s sort of a blur from Mile 8 up to about Mile 11, other than seeing Coach Ed near the beginning, who gave me some sage advice and encouragement, and a bunch of my teammates doing the full marathon as the two courses overlapped. I love our team. Seriously, they are the BEST. I know that Fran and I wouldn’t have made it through all this without them, and hearing my name from behind as they cruised on through on their own race journey was great… I shared a lot of high fives, fist bumps, GO TEAMs, and wished them the best on their long run ahead.
Mile 11 was a switchback, and a kind of deceptive one at that… heading toward the turnaround, you see the Mile 11 marker on the right, but it’s not for you… not yet. It’s not until you go another quarter mile or more down the path, then back again, before you get to run (or walk) past the Mile 11 marker and call it yours… and boy was I feeling every bit of that down and back! I think it was an optical illusion or something, because it took FOREVER to get to the turnaround. I must have slowed down again (I was hot!) because I met up with Gabe and Brooklyn again, and appreciated the company as we pushed forward together.
It was the beginning of the end, though… once past it, we took a couple zigs and zags, and started to drop down toward the water, and the eventual finish line at Sea World. I ran most of Mile 12, but by this time, I was so cooked by the sun and feeling my feet that my run was only about good enough to keep up with G&B’s racewalking (I need to practice some racewalking to make my walk breaks faster!), dumped lots of water over my head at the last water stop somewhere in there, and heard the cheering and saw the crowds once I crossed the bridge before Mile 13.
The music was blaring, the crowds were cheering, and I saw the yellow mesh fencing of the final stretch before the finish line. If that isn’t enough to give you a burst of fresh energy (even if only for a short distance), I don’t know what is! I did my best attempt at a sprint to the finish, smiled for the camera and stuck my arms in the air, and crossed the finish line of my big race.
Finisher's Medal with 13.1 TNT pin
A nice person handed me my medal (those things are HEAVY!) and pointed me to plastic buckets of ice full of water bottles. I would have preferred to just sit in the ice bucket by this point, but I took a bottle of water instead, and settled for basking under the water sprayers to cool off for a moment… until I heard someone yelling my name, turned around and saw my Dad waving at me from the side fence.
I lost it.
I’d gotten a little misty at a few points along the race earlier… when we’d just turned up from the freeway onto city streets again and I saw an older gentleman with a sign reading something close to “Thank you, from a 13 year cancer survivor”, and thanking every one of us who passed by… when I passed Mile 10, which was a hard mile for me in my last race… and a couple other places.
But when I saw my Dad there, and I tried to talk, I could only choke out something partially intelligible like “I have to go check in – meet me at the tent” which I’m sure didn’t sound much like that at all when it came out. (Mom had been waiting further up the fence, but I couldn’t hear or see her at the time) They drove south 9 hours to see Fran and I finish our race, knowing that we’d be caught up in team events for nearly all weekend and that we’d have precious little time together during their trip, and they’d be turning around to drive home 2 days later. In so many ways, they’ve been so supportive through this all, and this one more thing… like I said, I lost it. (Thankfully the water from the sprayers helped camouflage my big beefy man-tears)
I smiled, drank my water, and shuffled off in a fog toward what looked like the right way to go, asking people in TNT shirts along the way “which way to the check-in tent?” until I saw purple shirts and big signs with arrows pointing the way…
Let me tell you, after my 13.1 miles and the aches and strains along the way, the furthest and hardest distance of the day *might* have been the distance from the finish line to the TNT tent! It felt like a MILE away. Eventually I shuffled my way there, all the while feeling the sun really start to set in and bake my noggin good. I managed to sign in, was congratulated, and handed my TNT 13.1 pin.
Awesome.
To me, that pin is more important than even my finisher’s medal. Everybody who finishes gets a medal, and it’s really nice. But not everybody had the journey that we did in TNT – many of us starting off as non-runners (or barely runners), but all of us motivated to run or walk 13.1 or 26.2 to raise money to kick cancer in the ass – our team really bonded over the last 4 months, and to me, that pin represents not just the journey that Fran and I took over the last season, but the shared experience we had with the entire team, something I wouldn’t trade for a solid gold finisher’s medal. (Did I mention how heavy that thing is?)
Once I’d done my duty and signed in, I had two biological imperatives (that had nothing to do with a porta-potty).
Feet up, Shady spot
I found a spot under some little shrub-trees nearby the check-in tent, hoping that anybody from the rest of the team might see my collapsed body in the shade and come over (and at least check if I still had a pulse). Sure enough, Sara came by not long after (having finished her FULL marathon!), and we both tried to form words into sentences somewhat successfully, and enjoyed the shade. Eventually, we found Kat in a different shady spot, and some of the team started to trickle in, greeted by cheers, high fives, and huge hugs from the rest of us.
By this time, I’d started to feel a bit better, having drunk lots of water and eaten a little bit, and it was getting close to the time Fran and Brooke were expecting to finish. I found my Dad again, told him I was off to find Mom and wait for Fran at the finish line, and shuffled off to the finish.
Waiting at the finish line and getting to cheer many of my teammates in was FANTASTIC. As much as I’d really wanted to run the full marathon with most of the team, being able to be there to cheer in the people who’d supported and encouraged me throughout the season was just beautiful.
I lost it again, of course.
Angela
I learned pretty quickly that I could cheer “Way to go!” and the person’s name somewhat okay without my voice breaking, but when I tried yelling “Go TEAM!” or anything else, my voice would crack and I’d need to take a sip of water to pull myself together… but I really didn’t care. I was – and am – SO PROUD of these guys, that tears of joy were pretty much guaranteed.
Hell, I even lost it when cheering in some of the other runners, especially the ones who you could just tell by reading their faces, that they were having a really hard or painful time of it at the end, but dammit, they were going to finish this race, and do it with head held high.
Lauren & Kristen
I was there for about half an hour, and started to get a little bit worried, hoping that Fran and Brooke were both okay, and that neither of them had gotten hurt. I knew that the heat was going to make everyone slower, and just kept waiting to see them come around the curve to the final straightaway. Around this time, I got a text from our fantastic Mentor, Heather, saying that they’d just passed Mile 25, and I knew it wouldn’t be long.
Then they came around the bend.
Brooke & Fran
I totally lost it again, of course.
Really, how could I not?
My wonderful, beautiful, amazing wife just ran a marathon! She just ran 26.2 miles, not because she had to, but because she wanted to, for a great cause. She supported me like crazy in my own training, and she was just about to cross the finish line for her own race – alongside the awesome and fantastic Brooke – her running buddy throughout the season. They started together, and they finished together!
I started yelling something supportive and loud, handed my mom my hydration belt, and told her I’d meet her at the tent, and ran out to meet Fran and run the last little bit in with her.
She grabbed my hand, and I told her how proud of her I was (am!), and that she was nearly there. She asked, “Where’s the finish line?” and I pointed – “It’s *right* there – that yellow banner!” She said, “That’s it?” and turned on some crazy magical hidden turbojets she had hidden somewhere, and SPRINTED to the finish line.
She’d just gone 26.2 miles, and I’d had over two hours to rest, but she just WENT!
We got her medal and our pictures together, and met up with Brooke (and her mom!), and together walked over near the tent to meet the rest of the team.
We waited a bit for everyone in our crew to come in, gave huge hugs, and stumbled off to transportation and eventual food and parties later that night… but we did it.
I wouldn’t have traded the experience for anything.
For LOTS more race photos, check out our Flickr gallery:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/rickfrancastello/sets/72157624108335301/
-Rick
REMINDER: If you haven’t yet made a donation to LLS, or you have, but you’re feeling motivated to donate again, please consider doing so. Fran and I met our fundraising minimum for our San Diego race, but that doesn’t mean that the fight is over – there are still MILLIONS of people suffering from bone cancers, and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is funding researchers and treatments to find a cure and help improve the lives of those fighting cancer!
It’s fast and easy, and tax-deductible! DONATE NOW – please?
I made it! I ran, and walked, 26.2 miles all over San Diego in the Rock ‘n Roll Marathon this past Sunday. How long does it take to run that far? For me, it took 7 hrs 3 mins 22 secs!! It’s no wonder my feet hurt so bad!! LOL!!
There was a lot of time to think about how it came to be that I was RUNNING A MARATHON!! A year ago, I would have laughed (and probably did!) at the idea of running, period. Never mind running 26.2 miles! When Rick and I along with our friend Katrina decided to join Team in Training, I had no idea of the journey I was about to take. Kick-off was January 30th, our first track was February 6th (a cold and rainy day!) and our first long run was February 13th – I remember how amazed I was that I ran 6-miles that day. How far I have come in only 4 months!
Rick and I left Santa Cruz at 0830 Saturday with fellow team-mate Brooke. We met the rest of our team mates at the San Jose airport and we were in San Diego shortly after 1200. Most everything for the rest of the weekend was done in full team spirit. We coordinated meeting times for going here and there and exchanged phone numbers to keep in touch when we weren’t physically together. I have to say it has been so easy to make friends with all my team mates – I am already having withdrawals and wondering if it will be possible to keep these new friendships going. I think it is : )
The Inspiration Dinner the night before the event was, inspirational! The energy in the room was absolutely palpable. We heard from The Penguin and a young woman who had joined the Team in honor of her dad. The statistics: 20,000+ participants for this event, 4,000 of us Team in Training participants who raised $12 million collectively!! WOW! Participants from all over the United States under one roof united for one purpose – finding a cure for cancer! WOW!
Then it was time to prepare for an early bed-time because we had to meet Coach Ed at 4 am! EEK! Off we went to our rooms. Rick and I put our race day shirts on, grabbed our running numbers and headed back down to the lobby to meet Coach for advice on attaching our numbers to our shirts. It was nice to have some hand-holding before bedtime, I was really starting to feel the anxiety building. After we got back to our room, we prepared our race gear: with my singlet on, I tried on two different pairs of running pants I brought and decided on the looser fitting pair, filled my water bottles (3 electrolytes, 1 water), loaded my pouches with granola bars, Gu’s and extra electrolyte tabs, double-checked all my shoe tags were properly affixed, laid out the sunscreen, deodorant (this is more habitual than actually effective of course!) and Sport Shield, and prepped the instant oatmeal for breakfast. Whew! I was starting to feel a bit weary so I put on my comfy clothes and crawled in bed.
Rick and I played Carcassone on our iPhones for a little while and when we finally felt sleepy enough, we kissed each other goodnight. And then I laid there. Wide awake. Ugh. Really? It was already past 10 pm and I needed to get to sleep…we had four alarms set for 3 am!! Not sure how long it took to fall asleep, but I was talking myself through a scene of laying in a hammock next to the ocean.
At the sound of the first alarm, we were up! A quick shower to wake up, dressed, grabbed fuel belts and breakfast and headed downstairs. Much to our amusement, we were the first ones at our designated meeting place. As the rest of our team mates showed up the anxiety and excitement was building. We were really there! This event was really about to happen. OMGosh!!
We got to the start area and as instructed by Coach Ed, the captains and mentors, we immediately got in a porta-potty line. I peed. I got back line. We were told to repeat this cycle at least 3-4 times. Since we were some of the first participants to show up the lines were really short. None-the-less, I peed every time it was my turn! Waking up that early, really messed up my usual morning routine (yes, I’m talking about my bowel routine). I kept hoping every time I was about to enter the box again that it would be “the” time. Nope. Six-seven times of nope Rick and I had learned from a friend at the Avenue event that taking a couple of Imodium to stop-up the system worked well for her, so we packed accordingly. It was getting closer to start time and my bowels were not cooperating so I pulled out my two Imodium’s and took one because I dropped the other on the ground (doh!). Don’t ya know, about 5 minutes after taking it is when my bowels decided to wake up! THANK GOODNESS!
With a spring in my step, I headed toward my corral at the start line with my running buddy Brooke We found some of our other team mates and shared our excitement as we (impatiently) waited for our turn at the start line. We heard the gun go off at 0615, but it took about 45 minutes for us in the 30th corral to get to the start line. The weather was perfect: kinda gloomy, cool, light breeze. We hoped it would stay that way all day.
As slow as it was, Brooke and I trotted at about a 13-14 minutes per mile pace conserving our energy for the end. We were trained well for this event. Meandering through downtown was exciting…bands around nearly every corner, cheerleaders from local schools, family and friends holding signs for their loved ones and signs with clever expressions like “They’re almost out of free beer at the finish line. Better hurry!”, “Your feet hurt because you’re kicking cancer’s ass” & “Hello complete stranger, I’m proud of you.”
The one that really took my breath away? “Thank you from a 13-year cancer survivor”, held by a man standing by himself in the middle of the road. He reached out and held my hand for a moment as I ran by and his eyes were so sincere. I cried. That was my emotional moment on the course. I was reminded of all those whose names I had puffy-painted on the back of my shirt and I was truly running with purpose. At that moment I had all the energy I needed to cross the finish line.
Brooke and I are perfect running partners. She walks, I walk. I drink, she drinks. She stretches, I stretch. I smile, she smiles. We didn’t talk all that much and I think it was perfect that way. I was able to take it all in for what it was worth. I was living life and fighting a good fight for so many people who can’t. And I was doing it along with so many others. Smiles were endless
I don’t remember when the sun came out, probably around mile 7 or so just as we were running on to the freeway. Of course. There’s no shade on the freeway. Sadly, we passed a few people who didn’t get along with the sun and heat – they were of course being tended to by medical staff and nothing appeared too serious as my nursing student curiosity tried to assess what was happening as I ran by. I took cups of water and poured them over my head and consumed my electrolyte drinks and Gu’s more often to keep up with what my body was pumping out.
In the sea of people on the course it was awesome to see so many in the purple Team in Training shirts. As we were passed and passed fellow TNT’ers we traded the “Go Team!” shout out. It’s incredible how good it feels to give and receive that little phrase GO TEAM!!
Mile 15 or 16 is when I realized how much my feet hurt. Like HURT! BAD! Ok, yes, I was running in VFF’s. What was surprising is that was the only part of my body at that point that hurt enough to make me want to stop. Considering what I have been through during the last 4 months, I could tolerate this. I had to. And I did. I focused on my form, trying to engage my core and use my larger muscles to push me along the next few miles. Nearing the 20 mile mark is when the knees and hips started to ache in protest. Only 6 more miles to go I kept telling myself. There was a grass along side this part of the course so I took advantage of it. Brooke’s knees were feeling it too, so we stopped more often to stretch and walked a bit more for the next couple miles. She’s a trooper! I could see the pain on her face at times, but she pushed herself through it and it gave me renewed energy to keep moving as well. Thanks Brooke!
And then we came up to the island. Fiesta Island. Brooke’s parents were there and the energy from her mom and sister was equal to that of an entire cheerleading squad!! I was so happy that Brooke had that support out there. And that they had enough to share with me too!! : ) They jogged with us for a about a tenth of a mile on the island giving us words of encouragement and reminding us they would be there when we came around the other side.
The other side…5 miles! Hurumph!! There was nothing “fiesta” about that island. It was desolate. Hardly any one out there except us runners and a couple of bands sparsely placed. The good bits about the island? Tylenol at the medical station (though we were only allowed ONE!), water stops (one of them with a mister), our mentors Heather, Eileen and Stacy, and getting off the island!
Once we were back on the main land, it was a pure adrenaline rush knowing that the finish line was less than 2 miles away! Our pace picked up a bit. I think I lost all control of my breathing rhythm because I got my first cramp. Right side of my chest just below my bra line. CRAP! Not NOW! With Heather, Stacy and Brooke nearby I knew I would be ok, but damn this hurt and I had to slow down. I didn’t want to slow down…I needed to FINISH! A nearby coach talked me through a couple deep breaths…”deep breath in through the nose, out through the mouth” she repeated a few times. Ahhhh…that was better! Re-energized, I picked up my pace again only to have that darn cramp return! Ok, fine. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
And then I saw Rick! This MUST mean the finish line is REAL CLOSE!! He ran next to me for a bit, tears in his eyes and said, “I’m so proud of you”. I don’t remember if I said anything in return, but I saw the finish line, looked at Brooke and said “You ready?” and I turned on my after-burners and booked it over that finish line with the biggest smile on my face!! I DID IT!! 
This has been one of the best experiences of my life! I will never stray far from Team in Training. I *am* a different person than I was in January when I decided to run not just for my health but for a larger purpose. Coach Ed, the mentors, the captains, Martha…thank you for taking me under your wings and providing me with the tools I needed to get me across that finish line. Thanks also to my team-mates. You are all truly amazing people and I am honored to have trained with you. I look forward to many seasons in the future with TNT! HUG!!
REMINDER: If you haven’t yet made a donation to LLS, or you have, but you’re feeling motivated to donate again, please consider doing so. Rick and I met our fundraising minimum for our San Diego race, but that doesn’t mean that the fight is over – there are still MILLIONS of people suffering from bone cancers, and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is funding researchers and treatments to find a cure and help improve the lives of those fighting cancer!
It’s fast and easy, and tax-deductible! DONATE NOW – please?
Posted in Training
A LOT happened between our half marathon at Avenue of the Giants on May 2nd and today…
For the long runs, Fran did FANTASTIC, while my foot muscles remained an issue, limiting me to 11 miles for the 18 mile run, and 5 miles for the 20 mile run day. Since the 20 mile run was basically our dress rehearsal for the full marathon, I decided that I was going to stick with my original plan of just running the half marathon, since I didn’t want to go into a full marathon having not run longer than a half marathon at one go before.
We threw a fundraising poker night with Kat, making $300 for LLS, and since Kat had already beat her fundraising minimum by that point, she generously allowed Fran and I to put the whole amount toward meeting our own goal! (Thanks, Kat!) It was a long, hard climb, but thanks to everyone who supported us, Fran and I were able to fundraise over $5,000 between us and beat our goal!
Finally, San Diego! We had a fantastic send-off event on June 1st with the team, getting our final race and travel paperwork from Martha and Coach Ed, and a warm and emotional bon voyage from our fantastic Mentors and Captains. We learned tricks to lay out and pack our gear, what to bring and what not to bring, and we headed home, full of butterflies and excitement.
I took Friday off from work before our Saturday flight, to make sure I had plenty of time not just to pack, but to rest and relax a little before the travel and the race, after a hectic prior week. Saturday morning, Brooke parked at our place, and we three carpooled to the airport together, and met the excited team at the gate for our flight. Our flight was probably 1/3 to 1/2 Team In Training participants and staff like us, and the 80 minute flight was practically over as soon as it began. We shuttled together to one of the team hotels, and were instantly awash in a sea of white and purple team colors!
Race numbers!
We walked across the street to the San Diego Convention Center for the race Expo, and to pick up our race numbers and info packets… it was HUGE, with lots of vendors selling all sorts of interesting stuff, each demo-ing their “greatest invention for running ever” (no Vibram booth, though!), and lots of neat clothing, stickers, and the like. We wandered around for a while, got our nails painted TNT purple at the Team In Training booth (yes, me too!), got some swag, and headed back to the hotel.
Rockin' the TNT purple!
After a quick rest, we all went downstairs for a big buffet pasta dinner… but on the elevator down, about two floors above the dinner area, we heard a huge roar of cheering, clapping, noisemakers, and any other “and the crowd went wild!” sounds you can think of! The elevator was full of TNT’ers, and we just looked at each other, grinning, and willing the elevator to go FASTER, to get us there!
Coach Ed cheering his head off!
The elevator doors opened, and the roar we’d heard slightly muffled from the elevator suddenly crashed over us, like a wave of AWESOME. We took some pictures, but it can’t begin to do justice to the visceral feel of lining up with HUNDREDS of other TNT participants, going up an escalator, and then walking or running through a human corridor FULL of cheering, screaming, smiling, and sometimes crying Mentors, Captains, Coaches, Managers, Staff, and you name it. Balloons, goofy hats, noisemakers, and more were in full effect, as they cheered us like we were rock stars or professional athletes! Professional, maybe not so much, but dammit, we ARE athletes! It was amazing.
We had our big buffet dinner in a huge ballroom, with a never-ending slide show on huge screens showing Honorees for the different teams – HUNDREDS of survivors of bone cancer, many of them in the room and ready to RUN THEIR OWN MARATHON THE NEXT DAY, because of the life-saving treatments that TNT and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society has funded over the years. Also shown were many photos in memory of past honorees, who fought hard, but ultimately died from their cancer, reminding us how important this is, and how much further we still have to go until we can CURE blood cancers.
We learned that the participants for the San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll race alone had fundraised over TWELVE MILLION DOLLARS! Fran and I – and all of you that supported us! – are a part of that, and we’re so honored and happy we were able to do our part to make it happen.
We heard lots of good stuff from a few speakers, and had a short team meeting with Coach Ed afterwards, reminding us of our 4am (!) meetup in the morning for the shuttle to the starting line, and a quick meet later that evening to help us get our race numbers and shoe timing tags all situated, before we turned in for the night, to hopefully sleep for a few hours.
-Rick
Next post: RACE DAY!
REMINDER: If you haven’t yet made a donation to LLS, or you have, but you’re feeling motivated to donate again, please consider doing so. Fran and I met our fundraising minimum for our San Diego race, but that doesn’t mean that the fight is over – there are still MILLIONS of people suffering from bone cancers, and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is funding researchers and treatments to find a cure and help improve the lives of those fighting cancer!
It’s fast and easy, and tax-deductible! DONATE NOW – please?
Posted in Fundraising, Races, Training
I ran 20 miles this weekend? Really? I keep checking my Nike+ and sure enough, I ran 20 miles!!
Like many others on our team, I was nervous about this one. It’s a big one. The 18 miles with Renee a couple weeks ago was hard enough to push through! When I remembered why that was, it was mostly my feet that were causing me so much anguish during that run. Well, now I had the new, made-for-running Bikila VFF’s, so my feet were going to sail through 20 miles.
Uh huh. Sure.
Most of this run was great! Once we got going the butterflies in my stomach settled down and I quickly fell into my usual stride. I started with Patricia and Heather and we had some wonderful chats about food, our team, families and a random assortment of other topics. After we came back from the first 5-mile loop, our bladders were in sync so we hit the restrooms before heading out for the rest of the run.
Not wanting my body to cool down any more than it had (4-5 miles seems to be my sweet spot for being warmed up), I broke away from Heather and Patricia and headed out on Los Gatos Creek Trail by myself.
I like running alone. Not all the time, but especially when I’m in a beautiful new area. It was early and the rest of the world seemed to still be sleeping. Except of course all the other TNT and assorted fitness groups from the area taking advantage of the cool morning for their training/exercise. Running along the trail I enjoyed the scents of fresh-cut grass, coffee, flowers, and crisp morning air.
It wasn’t too long before I saw Brandy and Eileen in the distance. As I approached, they cheered me on and I overheard Brandy make a call about my status. She caught up to me and guided me through the park. This is the park Rick and I drove through a couple years ago with all the Christmas light figures that can be seen peeping through the trees along Hwy 17! COOL!! This park is huge! Thank you Brandy for your guidance through here
Brandy left me after we meandered our way through the park and a tree covered section of the trail. I was alone again. And my feet were hurting! Ruh-roh! Not the bottoms of my feet, but between the toes of my left foot and the top part of my right foot. I stepped off the trail next to a bench and assessed my situation.
Part of the problem is my toes are too short (darn Flinstone feet!!) They don’t quite fill the toe sections of my VFF’s (not an issue with my other pair). The rubber sole of these shoes is thicker and covers more of the otherwise open areas along the bottom (like between the toes). Not a problem if you’ve got toes to fill the space and not allow that rubber to creep up in between. I jammed my li’l toes as far into the toe holes as I could get em.
My right foot is the bigger of the two and now it was swelling from running. Not an issue in my Sprint VFF’s (Mary Jane style, where as the Bikila’s are all-over coverage). I pulled what little wiggle room I had, loosened the Velcro strap and continued on.
Not long after that ordeal, Alyssa & Vivian met me along the trail. Alyssa was now my partner. I truly appreciate the tag-team efforts by the mentors on these long runs. I think I grumbled a bit about my shoes to Alyssa, and once we determined I was okay we motored on through the gravel part of the trail. I was *really* thankful for my new shoes through this section. While I could still feel rocks under foot, they weren’t jabbin’ me like they would have if I were in the Sprints.
After climbing up the gravel hill and rounding the corner, I see IT. The big mother hill that no one warned us about. IT was steep. Not scary steep, but by this point IT was steep enough to make my leg muscles wince. IT was long. I ran up IT backwards!! That’s right! I couldn’t look at IT, so I made IT stare at my fat-A$$ while I climbed IT! HAH!! Take THAT!
I was so very thankful to Martha’s husband and daughter for being our turn-around water-stop volunteers. Wonderful people I re-filled my bottles, took advantage of the porta-potty opportunity, took a shot of salt with a water chaser, said “thank you” and continued on.
My feet started talking to me again shortly after I made my way past the gravel section. I was both relieved that it had taken that long for them to speak up and frustrated knowing I had at least another 6 miles to go. I pulled off to the side again and made the same adjustments as before. My left toes were appeased by this, but not so much for my right foot It HURT! I wanted nothing more at that moment than to take off the shoe. Knowing that would be the worst thing I could do at that moment, I sucked it up and moved on.
I tried to occupy myself with taking in the scenery and allowing my mind to wander, but my foot was now SCREAMING! I had to keep looking down at it because it felt like the shoe was gouging into my foot. It wasn’t thank goodness! How can I NOT focus on this during these last few miles??
Greg M. Brendan. Greg C. Charlotte. Doug.
I lost myself in tears. My feet kept moving, but I didn’t feel them anymore. I’ve gotten teary-eyed before, thinking about why I’m running and whom I’m running for, but not a full-on cry. I was still moving along that darn trail. What got me through those last few miles was the strength of those I named above. When I thought about what they have endured, my feet didn’t hurt. When I thought about how many times they wanted to give up and didn’t, my feet didn’t hurt. This is what got me to the finish line.
I know Brandy joined me again at some point. I vaguely remember some of my teammates passing me (thanks for the drive-by hug Lauren! You have NO IDEA how much that helped!). I don’t remember saying much if anything to Brandy along the way nor do I remember anything she said. I do remember she adjusted my right shoe a couple of times, THANK YOU! It was all I could do to keep my head up, eyes forward, and feet moving.
When I saw that grassy knoll and our cheering crew at the finish line, I stumbled a little. The end was so close. I was exhausted and an emotional head-case. With a deep breath and a smile, I forged ahead. Breaking through that purple finish line took my breath away, literally.
My breaths were loud and deep, I needed to cry a big crybaby cry but my body wouldn’t let me do it all at once. I think Connie thought I was hyperventilating or something and she kept telling me to stand up (in retrospect, I should have listened, probably would’ve made the breathing easier). I needed to collect myself. A few deep breaths and I had my big crybaby cry in the nook of my husband’s neck, and it felt good!
You know what else felt good? THE “SPA”!! Oh. Mah. Gosh. I have never been happier to see a foam roller! Or a kiddie pool filled with ice water! AND a table full of food!? WOW! Thank you so very much for that pampering after a very difficult run. Thank you for all the kind words. Thank you for being the best team I could be a part of.
Fran
Rick
Recent Comments