Who I Run for Wednesday: Kay

Almost six years ago, I decided to embark on the journey of home ownership. I proudly signed the deed to my condo and moved in with the intent on being an amazing neighbor. About a week or so in, right in the middle of a kitchen remodel, I got a knock on my door from a neighbor. She was introducing herself to the new kids across the hall as well as telling us about her role as a trustee. A trustee she said, man she has the authority. A month or two later, this trustee convinced me to run for the vacant slot on the board and to my excitement, I was elected. Years later, I view that knock as a pivotal point in my life. First, if someone wants you to run for trustee after being in the building for a mere month or two, think twice! An amazing friendship was born with that knock.

The lady that knocked on my door over the years has become the support system for the A-hall as we like to call it. The first summer I lived in the A-hall, we all decided to head on down to E's cape home and visit miss A and her sister in their summer abode. This was a big deal as we had never met her sister and had high hopes for how awesome she would be. We trekked on over and were met with grilled pizza and sangria. They had won us over in a few short minutes! Her sister ended up being just as funny as A and we were in awe of how amazing they were. V instantly has become a fixture in the A-hall and we love her almost as much as we love A. We have taken vacations together as a hall, spent weekends down on the cape, laughed until we literally peed our pants, and experienced major life cycle events. In fact, it was during a jaunt to the Met and dinner in NYC that we concocted the plan to set my college roommate up with their nephew. We all proudly attended that wedding a year ago. Where does Kay fit into all of this? One word, Gerta!

Gerta is one of the coolest little dogs around filled with personality and energy galore. Gerta comes with an interesting story in which V's bestie was named Kay. Kay decided to become the mom to Gerta when she was sick knowing that there was a very high likelihood that the dog would outlive her. Kay was sick with cancer and V took it upon herself to be one of her primary caregivers. This was way back before I knew the two lovely sisters, but knowing the generosity and love that they give, I know that Kay was taken care of in a way no one will ever know. Kay passed away in 2001 when our dear dog friend was just a pup. V has now been the "friend" of Gerta's since and is quick to talk about Gerta's mom all the time. From everything I have heard, this woman is nothing short of awesome just like her dear friend.

When deciding to run the Boston Marathon, the choices of charities seemed endless. I could apply for G-Row in honor of my college running career, the Respite Center in memory of my aunt who taught at a similar school, and so on. None of these charities really struck a pain in my heart as Dana-Farber did. It was all or nothing in the application process as I wanted to be part of the DFMC team bad. One of the reasons was in memory of Kay. You see, I came into the A-hall as a kid without direction. I was working a job to work a job, not a career and living like your average party animal 24 year old. These two sisters showed me compassion and what it is to be part of a family without blood lines. They have always been there for me and are my local in case of emergency contacts because as it says I trust them with my life. Both ladies would do anything for a friend and have always made sure I have a home for the holiday and a shoulder to cry on. Through them, I have learned unconditional love apart from a parent. What better way to honor them by honoring their dear departed friend than by running a marathon in her memory? So it is with great pride and sadness that I run in memory of Gerta's Kay.  

What a difference a year makes

I still remember my first half marathon like it was yesterday. I met my mom and sister down in Disney World for the Princess Half. To say I was nervous is an understatement! I ate the perfect dinner the night before, got a full eight hours of sleep and made sure I ate and drank the right things that morning. The 13.1 miles were hard, but some of the most rewarding I will have ever run. Years have passed and I now have plenty of halts, both good and bad, under my belt. Today adds another to that list, the Hyannis Half, but man have times changed.

I received an invite for a going away party for someone I have known almost my entire length in Boston. The party was to be held at 9 pm at a local bar on Saturday night. With the best intentions, I figured I would make an appearance for 30-45 minutes and be home in bed by 10:30. We all know how plans usually don't work like planned. I ended up drinking and eating things that would not be considered half appropriate, but was oh so tasty. Add to that the staying out way too late, I found myself with about 3-4 hours of sleep. The lack of sleep normally would be fine if I had slept well the night before, but the 6 hours on Friday just wouldn't cut it. I was beyond exhausted!

My alarm went off bright and early and I headed on out with breakfast in hand and a change of clothes. I tried to choke down breakfast on the hour and a half car ride, but it just wasn't sitting right. I made it down to the race site in epic time, checked in and had about an hour to kill. The ballroom was getting packed, so I headed to the car for a break. About 30 minutes beforenthe race, I hit the bathroom and met up with fellow teammates at the starting line.

The race went off and runners started to move forward. The first mile was amazing as were the second and third. I was flying and felt amazing with an awesome pace. Then it hit...the feeling of being sick. With no porta potties in sight, my pace slowed down significantly as I tried to hold my composure. It wasn't until mile 6ish that I found a coveted portapottie with line to boot. The next 3 miles were again a blast and I started to pick up my pace quite a bit. For some reason, I felt awful again with only a 5k to go. My legs and body felt great, but I felt like I was on a ship in rocky seas. I struggled to keep it together to finish, but managed to pick off some of the slower runners as I was headed towards the finish. With a mile to go, I knew there was no way I was going to PR and my only goal was to finish. I crossed the finish line, stretched, saw some teammates and got myself cleaned up. I met up with some tri teammates for lunch before heading back to Boston.

The results of the race were somewhat disappointing as I was far from my goal time. Yet, I am also happy with my results. In life you have to pick priorities and this weekend it was celebrating an awesome dude. Races will come and go, but seeing these people was a rare occasion. Am I glad I went? Of course! I also know that my body felt amazing later in the day which meant I had plenty more to give. Now on to the next race and seeing what that brings. I'll be back in Vermont and my goal is to shave 5-10 minutes from last year.

I Guess It Really Is Official

Best part is that I will still be 29 when running. A great finish to a very awesome decade filled with lots of learning and discovery.

My new mantra

Changing Up the Routine

While at my weekly sport's massage today, I was lamenting that I feel like my whole life right now is centered around running. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it and am enjoying it beyond belief and would not trade this experience for anything, but there are times I need a break.

Tonight was supposed to be the usual 9 miles to Crossroads for pizza and beer. My life instead would have other plans. While on the drive home, I got stuck in gridlock traffic causing me to take over an hour to get home which meant that I was already late for meeting up with everyone on the run. I figured I could cut off a few miles and be ok, but I was pretty sore from the working on my quads. As I was stuck in traffic, I looked at my Facebook to see that a former teammate of mine had posted about a pickup foursquare game. Let me back up a bit.

Three years ago, my friend Sarah convinced me to join her in her foursquare league. Having met playing kickball years before, I figured it would be a blast as it was yet another playground game. It turns out that these people mean business! I pretty much stunk, but had a blast and continued with it for two seasons. For some reason, mainly the perpetual blizzard, I missed every game last year. The season was cancelled this year and they are just now having practice to prepare for the world championships. Reading the message on Facebook solidified my decision. I would skip my run, only to make it up tomorrow or Saturday and head on over for a solid 1.5 hours of cardio.

While I would like to pretend that all of a sudden I was a rockstar at the game, I would be lieing. In truth, I still pretty much stink, but not as bad as before. I had a blast and forgot how crazy of a workout it really is. You are running after the ball and doing shuffles to try and get the ball into another square. Am I sad I missed Crossroads? Of course as it is always a fun time. Am I glad I went to foursquare? 100% as it was great to see everybody and reconnect with an old hobby. Sometimes you need to find that balance whether intentional or not. Now how to explain ditching next Tuesday's track practice for a Bruin's game?

Who I Run For: Mom-Mom

As Wednesdays seem pretty boring running wise, I figured I'd switch it up a bit and make it Who I Run For Wednesdays. My first one honored is my grandmother prominently known as Mom-Mom, MiMi or Muriel. Almost all of my friends just refer to her as Mom-Mom as she is just that legendary.

A little background on Mom-Mom, born in 1921 to immigrant parents, she was the youngest by years. She still to this day is convinced that she was a surprise due to the age difference of her two sister and no one has doubted it. Mom-Mom was a pretty awesome lady in her youth and ended up being the life of the party and a bit of a social butterfly. She ended up married later in life and had my mom when she was 30. She was a working women throughout her years. Her husband, my grandfather, succumbed to lung cancer when my mom was only in 4th or 5th grade. Mom-Mom went on a cruise where she met her second husband Aaron. Mom-Mom moved over to helping run his oil business and continued on working. Aaron also was diagnosed with cancer which forced my parents to move up their wedding so he could walk her down the aisle. He died months later in 1972. By the age of 51, this lady had watched two husbands be diagnosed with cancer and pass away from the disease, but it didn't let her get down in the dumps

As a child, Mom-Mom seemed so glamorous and exotic. Gifts would be brought back from far away trips from countries I had never heard about. She also drove a 70something pale blue boat. Literally, you could see her coming from miles away when she came to pick me up from school. Coupled with her love of hitting up the casinos, playing canasta and working with the girls. She built up an amazing group of friends with hilarious stories. The stories I could tell you that I have learned over the years would make people laugh and are probably not fit for blog consumption.

When I was in high school, Mom-Mom was diagnosed with colon cancer. Luckily, the detection and treatment had advanced significantly since the loss of her two husbands and her doctors were able to diagnose at an early stage and aggressively treat the colon cancer. Of course, I could never show my face in the store that she accidentally drove right through after passing out after chemo one day, but that is another story. She fought and beat cancer like a champ. This past year, she had another fight with cancer, this time with skin cancer. They caught it early and yet again she was a trooper. Luckily, we took away her license years ago so there were no store front issues!

This past summer, her friends and family gathered around to celebrate her 90th birthday. Flying in for it was a treat and seeing her in her element was even better. You see, about 5 years ago she moved into the Jewish Home for the Aging. As she was before, Mom-Mom is a social butterfly there with activities and social time scheduled every day all day. Mom-Mom is a known staple in that part from the staff right down to the gentleman callers. She is a tour guide, in a canasta and maj jong group, sings for the choir (check out her youtube video), and is an avid knitter in the arts and crafts classes. She makes sure to call me after every race congratulating me on winning (even though I never have) and has outfitted me with enough scarves to survive 100 New England winters. She is having a blast at 90 and not letting her history of cancer get in the way. She is a survivor!

In my eyes, my grandmother is one of the strongest fighters I know. She was able to grieve the loss of both husbands, be a single mother as a result to cancer and successfully twice overcome it herself. If in my life, I find even half the strength she has in her life, I will feel lucky. Heck, I am just lucky to call her my grandmother and with pride "win a medal" for her.

Beating my daily commute.

Once again, we had a group run with DFMC. This time it was at Mount Auburn Club which means that they are held on Sundays and about 5 minutes from me. I love the proximity, but having it on Sundays mean the weekend nights are kinda shot as you can't go out on Saturday nights. Honestly, I like this excuse of being allowed to stay at home and watch bad movies. Next week may be different as I have two parties the night before my Sunday run, but I will still attend and attain balance.

My alarm went off at 5:15 this morning and like normal I hit snooze until 5:30. After a quick change of clothes and trying out a new breakfast and I was out the door headed to Comm Ave. After a quick five mile jaunt down the hill, I decided my breakfast really wasn't the right style. Cutting the run quick, I headed home 7.1 miles in ready to join the group for the rest of the run. My goal was to run a total of 18 miles trying gu along the way. In a fun twist of events, the water stops would be placed every 3 or so miles meaning that I was instead about to run 19 miles.

We left as a group from the club and soon I was left in the dust by the fast runners. Soon, I was running up the hill on Chestnut Hill inspecting the fire damage from last week. A quick turn on Comm Ave and I was back where I was less than an hour before. Making it to the first water stop was easy and I was making sure to work on my pacing. The second water stop was also pretty easy to get to. At that point, I was now 13 miles in which a year ago would have seen epic. This year, it just marks a short run. Who would have thought? A quick turn and I was headed back up the hills going strong. The last hill was just a bit too much and I ended up walking up it for 3 or so minutes. As I hit the next water stop, I knew only three short miles and I was done for the day. I also realized that anything further than that water stop was new terrain. As I rounded the corner onto Chestnut Hill, I hit a wall. 17 miles in and I was done! Sadly, I still had 2 miles to get back to the club. With hip tightness and just all around blah feeling, I walked more than I ran. At this point, I was a bit disappointed, but impressed that these short legs made it this far. Walking back in the club, it turns out I was not alone in feeling the pain.

All in all, the last bit may have been slow, but as I was rounding the last corner, I realized something important. Day in and day out for the last 7+ years, I have been making a drive out to Framingham for work. The commute is 18.2 miles and today I ran further than that. Yes, I beat my 20 minute daily commute in mileage! Man, is that an awesome feeling.