Humans are not meant to run marathons....think about it...running hundreds and hundreds of miles wears on your joints, bones, muscles and your sanity.
During this whole process, I have had good runs, I have had bad runs. I have felt great, I have been in pain. I have been jealous of those who are injury free. I've kicked myself in the butt for being jealous when those are the people who are supporting me most (thanks Lindsey and Lauren). I've felt separate from the group because I can't run. I've wanted to give up. I've felt like I am alone, wallowing in my injury. I've wondered if I will ever make it to April 21, 2008. And then I met the others....
There are a number of runners on the DFMC team who are injured, many who are unable to run or even walk. Meeting these runners and working out with them has given me a stronger sense of community. We compare notes from Jack, compare injuries, discuss frustrations, and know that there is someone else out there who is having the same emotional struggle. Last weekend I ran with two women, Cat who is also having knee problems and Lindsey, who was just getting over the flu. She, Lindsey, and I ran 8.5 miles together. We did a run/walk (they humored me by doing it) and had a great time together. Unfortunately, two hours after my run my knee cramped up. It was still great to run with two amazing women who were supportive the entire run.
Last night I worked out with Brenda, another DFMC-er. Brenda has been having shin pain for several weeks. Her pain was so bad last week that she could barely walk. She and I went to Healthworks last night and worked out on the Arc Trainer. While I did the majority of my workout before she arrived, it was such a great support to have someone on the machine next to me. We talked to whole time and I got to know a new friend. I'm looking forward to our indoor workout this weekend. I'm looking forward to running together again in the next few weeks and I am looking forward to finishing the marathon together, as healthy and strong as possible.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Just don't think I'll ever get over you
Today marks the one year calendar anniversary of my father's death. (Yes, that means this posting is going to be sad and depressing). I preface this email by saying that I should have written it a few days ago when the words were flowing through my head. This morning they seem to be sloshing around.
On Monday evening, I went to the gym. I did 30 minutes of cardio on the arc trainer. During my 10 minute cool down, a song came on my IPOD which made me think of my Dad. It made me realize how hard this week is going to be. It made me realize that no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I have to deal with the reality that he is gone. Life needs to continue (which is what he would have wanted), but I will never forget him. How do you forget someone you love?
February 17, 2007: Chet and I drive down to Connecticut to visit with my family for the long weekend. I do not feel any sense of urgency to get down there. We go to visit my Mom at work on the way down. I walk into my parents house and head upstairs to their bedroom. My aunt (my Dad's sister), Marjorie (we call her Winkie) is there with him. She says to my Dad as he's laying in bed, "Look whose home? Your wife Helen and..." He sits up, looks straight at me and says "MARPY" (the name my youngest sister used to call me before she could pronounce Cs), totally ignoring my Mom in the process. He spends the rest of the 17th in and out of sleep. In the middle of the night we hear a thud and my mother yell, "OH s***, Arnold". Chet and I immediately jump out of bed and run down the hallway to find my Dad in the closet sprawled on the floor. He had gotten up in the middle of the night and had fallen.
February 18, 2007: We get up in the morning to have a family meeting. We begin to discuss what our plans are to take care of my Dad. A few minutes later we hear footsteps on the stairs. My Dad, who could barely get out of bed the day before, is walking down stairs to join us for breakfast. They say there is clarity before death, and while I'm not sure if my Dad was clear (he thought he was on a cruise ship for awhile and came downstairs dressed for the boat), he ate, he was semi-coherent, and even funny.
Later that evening, my Mom asks me to sleep in their bed with him so that I can check on him. The night before she did not sleep well (case in point the closet incident). We go to bed early and has a hard time settling down. At one point he tried to get up to see my sister Sandra. I have to explain that he will see Sandy in the morning. He falls asleep and is awakened by a dream. I go and sit by his side and ask him about his dream. He turns to me with a smile on his face, puts up his hand, wiggles his fingers, and says "Worms". He settles down and we fall asleep. About 1am, I wake up to check on him. He seems cold. I run and get Chet who helps me check on him. My Dad is still breathing. Chet tells me to go back to sleep and we will deal with it in the morning. My Dad has already fallen into a coma by this point.
When I woke up on the 19th, I went down told my Mom my biggest fears. These fears were only confirmed when the medical staff came to check on him. They brought him up to the hospital. His stay in the hospital, although only a day, was one of the most amazing experiences ever. He was surrounded by friends and family. People were laughing, people were crying. It is exactly how he would have wanted it. My mom, my aunt and I slept in the hospital that night. It is comforting to know that I spent his last night with him.
My Dad passed away on February 20, 2007. It is cliche to say that he died peacefully but he did. No long drawn out scene, just a few shallow breaths surrounded by a few family memebers and friends.
As I sit here writting this a year later, I am filled with a mix of emotions. Tears stream down my face, a smile appears on my face, and I've even laughed a few times. I miss my Dad so much. I know he's here with me in spirit but it's not the same. I will never be able to hug him, never be able to listen to him sing off key, and never be able to call him "Stupid Daddy" to his face.
The song on my IPOD earlier this week was "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" by Colin Hay. The lyrics to this song are as follows:
On Monday evening, I went to the gym. I did 30 minutes of cardio on the arc trainer. During my 10 minute cool down, a song came on my IPOD which made me think of my Dad. It made me realize how hard this week is going to be. It made me realize that no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I have to deal with the reality that he is gone. Life needs to continue (which is what he would have wanted), but I will never forget him. How do you forget someone you love?
February 17, 2007: Chet and I drive down to Connecticut to visit with my family for the long weekend. I do not feel any sense of urgency to get down there. We go to visit my Mom at work on the way down. I walk into my parents house and head upstairs to their bedroom. My aunt (my Dad's sister), Marjorie (we call her Winkie) is there with him. She says to my Dad as he's laying in bed, "Look whose home? Your wife Helen and..." He sits up, looks straight at me and says "MARPY" (the name my youngest sister used to call me before she could pronounce Cs), totally ignoring my Mom in the process. He spends the rest of the 17th in and out of sleep. In the middle of the night we hear a thud and my mother yell, "OH s***, Arnold". Chet and I immediately jump out of bed and run down the hallway to find my Dad in the closet sprawled on the floor. He had gotten up in the middle of the night and had fallen.
February 18, 2007: We get up in the morning to have a family meeting. We begin to discuss what our plans are to take care of my Dad. A few minutes later we hear footsteps on the stairs. My Dad, who could barely get out of bed the day before, is walking down stairs to join us for breakfast. They say there is clarity before death, and while I'm not sure if my Dad was clear (he thought he was on a cruise ship for awhile and came downstairs dressed for the boat), he ate, he was semi-coherent, and even funny.
Later that evening, my Mom asks me to sleep in their bed with him so that I can check on him. The night before she did not sleep well (case in point the closet incident). We go to bed early and has a hard time settling down. At one point he tried to get up to see my sister Sandra. I have to explain that he will see Sandy in the morning. He falls asleep and is awakened by a dream. I go and sit by his side and ask him about his dream. He turns to me with a smile on his face, puts up his hand, wiggles his fingers, and says "Worms". He settles down and we fall asleep. About 1am, I wake up to check on him. He seems cold. I run and get Chet who helps me check on him. My Dad is still breathing. Chet tells me to go back to sleep and we will deal with it in the morning. My Dad has already fallen into a coma by this point.
When I woke up on the 19th, I went down told my Mom my biggest fears. These fears were only confirmed when the medical staff came to check on him. They brought him up to the hospital. His stay in the hospital, although only a day, was one of the most amazing experiences ever. He was surrounded by friends and family. People were laughing, people were crying. It is exactly how he would have wanted it. My mom, my aunt and I slept in the hospital that night. It is comforting to know that I spent his last night with him.
My Dad passed away on February 20, 2007. It is cliche to say that he died peacefully but he did. No long drawn out scene, just a few shallow breaths surrounded by a few family memebers and friends.
As I sit here writting this a year later, I am filled with a mix of emotions. Tears stream down my face, a smile appears on my face, and I've even laughed a few times. I miss my Dad so much. I know he's here with me in spirit but it's not the same. I will never be able to hug him, never be able to listen to him sing off key, and never be able to call him "Stupid Daddy" to his face.
The song on my IPOD earlier this week was "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" by Colin Hay. The lyrics to this song are as follows:
I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place thats far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
Don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived til I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
No longer moved to drink strong whiskey
I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived 'til I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
A face that dances and it haunts me
With laughter still ringin in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
even, even after all these years
I don't want you thinkin that I don't get asked to dinner
Cuz I'm here to say that I sometimes do
And even though I may seem to feel a touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
If I lived til I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
I miss you Dad.
Monday, February 18, 2008
A Half to Remember (a week late)
The alarm sounds at 6am. Must get out of bed, Must get ready. It is a Sunday morning; all I want to do is sleep. Must eat before I run. Must bring everything I need.7:03am start time (who starts a race that early???). The gun goes off and we begin. I'm feeling good. The course loops around at around mile 1.5 and I see Chet. I run over to him scream " I love you" and keep running.
Miles 3: My knee starts to hurt. I've been nursing an injury for a few weeks and it seems to have acted up. I am supposed to be doing a run/walk, but I am instead just running. I decide at that point to walk for at least a minute when I see each mile marker.
Mile 5.5: I stop to go to the bathroom. I've had to pee since the beginning of the race and the lines at the port-o-potties before mile 5.5 were too long. I start running again and then I get my sign. I hear this woman saying, "We are going to start running again in thirty seconds". I catch up to this group and realize I NEED to join them. The only way that I am going to get through this race is if I follow Jack's instructions and do a run/walk plan. We start chatting and I meet Vickie and Amy (and a few guys whose name I don't remember). They ask my name (Marcy) and where I am from (Boston). All of a sudden they get really excited, "We have a Marcy from Boston running with us also!!! I can't wait for her to meet you."
The miles fly by...I chat with the woman about their lives, about training, being part of Team In Training, and life. I find out the Vickie just celebrated her 50th birthday (I can only hope I look that good at 50), Amy is a pediatrician, and the other Marcy from Boston moved down to Birmingham 1.5 years ago and loves it.
Somewhere around mile 8, we say good-bye to Vickie and Amy. I wish them well on the marathon. Vickie tells me to stick around after the race so we can all get a picture together and swap email addresses. I realize at this moment that I've found these new friends for a reason. I truly believe that my Dad was watching over me on Sunday, February 10, 2008. It is at this point we start discussing why they are all running for charities. I share why I will be running Boston this year with DFMC. I also tell them that I believe that my Dad brought them to me (or me to them) that day. Smiles of understanding fill everyone's faces and we continue running.
I hear the other Marcy telling me how close we are to the finish. I start to sprint around the corner. I see Chet and scream his name. I see him fumbling with the camera and I run past. I see the clock ticking down around 2:21. They call out the other Marcy's name (she later says to me that she wished they had called out mine as well). And then it is over.
I'm excited by my run. I feel great and I've made great new friends. Sadly, I never see Vickie or Amy again. I run into other Marcy once at the post-race bash. Yet, I am completely indebted to these amazing people for helping me run my second half ever...and.....I finished in 2:19:01!!! That is walking and injured!!!
It gave me new hope for Boston. It gave me the reassurance that I can do this. It reminded me why I am doing this in the first place.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy un-valentine's day!!!
I'll come out and say it: Valentine's Day is a Hallmark created holiday!!! Why on earth should there be one day a year where people are super nice to each other, give each other candy/chocolate/sugar, spend way too much on flowers that have been marked up 200%, and pretend like nothing ever goes wrong in their relationships...all I have to say is Bah Humbug!!!
I should clarify that I have been in a relationship with the same person for almost five years. Last Valentine's day, Chet got stuck in New Hampshire in the Valentine's Day blizzard of '07. By the time he got home it was late, so we sat on the couch watched TV and ate frozen soy cheese pizza!!! It was the best V-day ever. Chet also offered to make dinner tonight when I get home...what a guy!!!
So this Valentine's day, I am going to join my fellow DFMC teammates at Crossroads for a run. Since I'm still in recovery mode from the Birminham Half (more on that in my next post), I will not run all 9 miles tonight, maybe 5 or so. But I will do something healthy for my heart. I will do something healthy for my body. And I will love the fact that today is just like any other day (except maybe I ate a bit too much candy).
I should clarify that I have been in a relationship with the same person for almost five years. Last Valentine's day, Chet got stuck in New Hampshire in the Valentine's Day blizzard of '07. By the time he got home it was late, so we sat on the couch watched TV and ate frozen soy cheese pizza!!! It was the best V-day ever. Chet also offered to make dinner tonight when I get home...what a guy!!!
So this Valentine's day, I am going to join my fellow DFMC teammates at Crossroads for a run. Since I'm still in recovery mode from the Birminham Half (more on that in my next post), I will not run all 9 miles tonight, maybe 5 or so. But I will do something healthy for my heart. I will do something healthy for my body. And I will love the fact that today is just like any other day (except maybe I ate a bit too much candy).
Friday, February 8, 2008
Today its your birthday!!
29...wow, where did the time go? If you had asked me a few years ago what I thought of getting older, I would have said I wasn't ready. Well here I am 29 today and I am ready. I am ready for whatever comes my way. Last year was a difficult year filled with sadness and loss. But I am ready for the next phase in my life. I am ready to take on the challenges of getting older and I am ready to live my life.
So bring it on...and I'm going to start with running the Mercedes Half-Marathon in Birmingham, AL on Sunday, February 10th. Age is just a number and if I have learned anything from my family it is to live life to the fullest, do the things you love, and never look back.
So, to be totally self-absorbed for one more second: Happy Birthday to Me!!! May my life be filled with happiness and joy. May your sorrow be followed by beauty and may you always drink a great bottle of wine.
So bring it on...and I'm going to start with running the Mercedes Half-Marathon in Birmingham, AL on Sunday, February 10th. Age is just a number and if I have learned anything from my family it is to live life to the fullest, do the things you love, and never look back.
So, to be totally self-absorbed for one more second: Happy Birthday to Me!!! May my life be filled with happiness and joy. May your sorrow be followed by beauty and may you always drink a great bottle of wine.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
A Northerner heads South
Running shoes? check.
Water belt? check.
Inhaler? check.
Gu? check
A suit case that is full of running gear? check.
SO here I am trying to figure out what to pack so that I can leave to go to Alabama tomorrow morning. Yes, Alabama. Chet and I will be traveling very early tomorrow morning to Birmingham to spend the weekend with his aunt and uncle. On Sunday, I will get up at the crack of dawn to run the Mercedes Half-Marathon. I'm not very good at packing (which is why it is 11pm here and I will be getting up in 4 hours) and to try and figure out what to bring is a nightmare. I'm sure I've over packed. I'm sure I will not wear half the stuff I brought, but I'd rather be safe than sorry...
Which reminds me...where are my running gloves? Did I pack the Advil? Oh well, back to packing...wish me luck!!!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
The Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge Team
People have been asking me what my experience has been like thus far. The answer is that words can not describe this experience. I know my previous posts have been about the struggles of training and my frustration, but all in all this experience is amazing.
Part of what makes this experience so difficult to describe is the support and excitement of my fellow teammates. Every person I meet is so amazing. Everyone has great ideas and great suggestions for fundraising and running. Everyone is there for the same purpose and it makes the process so much smoother.
At our DFMC meeting last night, I got some great ideas about fundraising from my teammates. Some ideas were things that had never crossed my mind. At first I thought, "Why hadn't I thought of these things before? These would be so great. ". I was somewhat frustrated with myself for not being more creative....and then I stopped myself. I realized that these teammates were being kind enough to share their amazing ideas. I realized that we all have different ways of fundraising and reaching out to people. I realized that although my fundraising has slowed down I have several good ideas in place to get it started again.
After the fundraising discussion, Jack got up to speak. He started talking about training, being injured, being frustrated and then asked where I was in the crowd. I was in total shock. He recapped for everyone our emails the last week, as well as my blog posting from Sunday. I do not get embarrassed easily and I was definitely blushing. I realized at that point (as my teammates were looking at me smiling and nodding) that so many people are feeling the same way I am. This is a first time experience for so many of us. I was reminded last night again that we are all in this together-whether we run 6 min/miles or 12 min/miles.
What is this experience like for me? Indescribable.
Part of what makes this experience so difficult to describe is the support and excitement of my fellow teammates. Every person I meet is so amazing. Everyone has great ideas and great suggestions for fundraising and running. Everyone is there for the same purpose and it makes the process so much smoother.
At our DFMC meeting last night, I got some great ideas about fundraising from my teammates. Some ideas were things that had never crossed my mind. At first I thought, "Why hadn't I thought of these things before? These would be so great. ". I was somewhat frustrated with myself for not being more creative....and then I stopped myself. I realized that these teammates were being kind enough to share their amazing ideas. I realized that we all have different ways of fundraising and reaching out to people. I realized that although my fundraising has slowed down I have several good ideas in place to get it started again.
After the fundraising discussion, Jack got up to speak. He started talking about training, being injured, being frustrated and then asked where I was in the crowd. I was in total shock. He recapped for everyone our emails the last week, as well as my blog posting from Sunday. I do not get embarrassed easily and I was definitely blushing. I realized at that point (as my teammates were looking at me smiling and nodding) that so many people are feeling the same way I am. This is a first time experience for so many of us. I was reminded last night again that we are all in this together-whether we run 6 min/miles or 12 min/miles.
What is this experience like for me? Indescribable.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Too many things running through my head....
I've had a very strange and frustrating week: I'm overwhelmed at work, I'm frustrated with not running at all this week (due to injury), and I sent out fundraising emails to 30+ people this week and had no responses.
I'm trying to stay positive. I'm trying to remember that being stressed, injured, exhausted, overwhelmed happens to everyone. I'm trying to focus on the good things and trying to fix the bad things or things that are overwhelming. I'm trying to learn what I can control and what I can't control. I'm trying to remember that I have people in my life who love me and support me. I need to turn to them more when I have one of those days...
Now onto a few specifics of my weekend....
I ran for the first time in almost a week yesterday. It was on the treadmill. It was really slow, but I ran for 25 minutes and felt great!!!
I've been frustrated about not running all week. I've been questioning why I am doing this....why I am pushing myself so much and I've honestly lost my focus of my I applied in the first place. Two things have happened in less than 24 hours to remind me why I wanted to do this. I went to the Porter Square Book Store last night while I was waiting for Bre to meet me (great local bookstore-check it out). I wanted to check out the running books and picked up a book called "26 Miles to Boston" by Michael Connelly. I read the back cover and flipped open the book. The page I openned to was a picture of Jack Fultz, who is the DFMC marathon coach. Jack is the 1976 Boston Marathon winner. It is a picture of him at mile 20 being hosed down and determined to finish. For some reason, this really struck me. I'm not an elite runner. I'm not running to qualify and this may be my only marathon ever. But it reminded me that we all have our reasons to run. It was also a reminder of how much support I have to complete this task. I feel like I sometimes overwhelm Jack with emails about injuries, training, etc. He always emails me back with great suggestions and provides me with great support. Thanks Jack!!!
The other thing that happened was I had a dream last night about my Dad. In the dream, we were all at the hospital, and he was still alive. What I remember of the dream is taking to my mom about the fact that we had already had his funeral and we had already said good-bye. For some reason, even though we had buried him he was still alive. He still knew he was going to die. He still had his same sense of humor. He still joked about life and death. He was still himself. I needed to remember that I'm running in his memory. I needed to remember that I will never be done grieving and missing him. I needed to remember how much I love him and how I know he is still here with me. I needed to remember that I am doing this for him and my grandmother. I needed to remember that I am running the 112th Boston Marathon with the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge Team so that I can help to find a cure for cancer.
I'm trying to stay positive. I'm trying to remember that being stressed, injured, exhausted, overwhelmed happens to everyone. I'm trying to focus on the good things and trying to fix the bad things or things that are overwhelming. I'm trying to learn what I can control and what I can't control. I'm trying to remember that I have people in my life who love me and support me. I need to turn to them more when I have one of those days...
Now onto a few specifics of my weekend....
I ran for the first time in almost a week yesterday. It was on the treadmill. It was really slow, but I ran for 25 minutes and felt great!!!
I've been frustrated about not running all week. I've been questioning why I am doing this....why I am pushing myself so much and I've honestly lost my focus of my I applied in the first place. Two things have happened in less than 24 hours to remind me why I wanted to do this. I went to the Porter Square Book Store last night while I was waiting for Bre to meet me (great local bookstore-check it out). I wanted to check out the running books and picked up a book called "26 Miles to Boston" by Michael Connelly. I read the back cover and flipped open the book. The page I openned to was a picture of Jack Fultz, who is the DFMC marathon coach. Jack is the 1976 Boston Marathon winner. It is a picture of him at mile 20 being hosed down and determined to finish. For some reason, this really struck me. I'm not an elite runner. I'm not running to qualify and this may be my only marathon ever. But it reminded me that we all have our reasons to run. It was also a reminder of how much support I have to complete this task. I feel like I sometimes overwhelm Jack with emails about injuries, training, etc. He always emails me back with great suggestions and provides me with great support. Thanks Jack!!!
The other thing that happened was I had a dream last night about my Dad. In the dream, we were all at the hospital, and he was still alive. What I remember of the dream is taking to my mom about the fact that we had already had his funeral and we had already said good-bye. For some reason, even though we had buried him he was still alive. He still knew he was going to die. He still had his same sense of humor. He still joked about life and death. He was still himself. I needed to remember that I'm running in his memory. I needed to remember that I will never be done grieving and missing him. I needed to remember how much I love him and how I know he is still here with me. I needed to remember that I am doing this for him and my grandmother. I needed to remember that I am running the 112th Boston Marathon with the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge Team so that I can help to find a cure for cancer.
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