I'm Off...

Today when I leave for Hopkinton, I will be wearing my Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge singlet. On the back of my singlet are the names of three people whose battles with cancer remind me of what race I am really running in today. I run to honor the memory of my Aunt Nancy. I know that although she lost her battle, she would be proud to know that I am doing what I can in hopes that others may be cured. I run in honor of Grammie. She is the strength that holds my family together, and the bravest grandmother around. I run in honor of Brandon. I know that no one in their entire lifetime should have to face what Brandon faced in his childhood.

Running a marathon is hard. Fighting cancer is harder.

As I have said before, the battles these three individuals have fought, with cancer are not unique ones. Cancer attacks everyone around us – parents, loved ones, siblings, and children. The back of my friend Kristan’s singlet last year said “In Honor of Too Many.” Like Kristan, unfortunately there is not enough room on our singlets for the names of every person that we know touched by cancer. In addition to running in honor of the people on the back of our singlets, I also running in honor of all of your loved ones who are currently battling, have battled, or have unfortunately lost their fight to cancer.

And so with that, I am off to run in the Boston Marathon. See you at the finish line.

Tomorrow.

Today I went to the DFMC pasta party with my family. Both Brandon, his mother, and his sister and brother also attended, and it could not have made me happier. The program was incredible, and included speakers Uta Pippig, first woman to win 3 consecutive Boston Marathons, and Jack Fultz, my amazing coach and 1976 winner of the Boston Marathon. There was an "in memoriam" slideshow of all of the brave children of the Jimmy Fund clinic who unfortunately lost their battle to cancer. Although it was an extremely emotional portion of the program, the most amazing part was going on stage with Brandon and all of the other individuals in the patient partner program. It was quite an inspirational moment to be in front of everyone with my 4-year-old hero. Brandon has overcome far too many obstacles, more difficult than any 26.2 miles.

I am having a difficult time trying to express my feelings and emotions 13 hours before I cross the starting line of my second Boston Marathon. I am extremely humbled, overwhelmed, excited, nervous, yet feeling entirely fortunate to be apart of such an incredible experience. My teammates are my heros; each and every one of them. Running a marathon for such a wonderful cause is a selfless act, and I am lucky to be associated with these individuals.

I will have to blog before I leave at 5:30 AM, since I am simply unable to write much right now. I am inspired, motivated, and determined to finish the Boston Marathon tomorrow. This is the most incredible feeling.....

And in the words of my incredible coach, Jack Fultz, "the hay is in the barn."

See you all tomorrow!

5 Days.

It is hard to believe that in five short days, I will be running my second Boston Marathon. As a child, I never considered this a possiblity. Year after year, I watched with amazement as each runner passed me by. I always dreamt of achieving such a goal, but knew this was miles and miles away from any reality.

I like a good challenge, and I will not give up until I accomplish any goal that has been set. When I stood anxiously at the starting line last year, I knew I would make it to the end. It did not matter what needed to happen in between, as long as I reached my goal; as long as I ran the 26.2 miles.

And so I find myself five days away from standing at the starting line for yet the second time. I do not know what will happen in between. Life is unpredictable, as is any marathon. But I do know that I will make it to the finish line.

Left foot. Right foot. Repeat.

One Week.

ONE week to go until Boston! As I count down the days, I will be thinking about the 26.2 reasons why I am running.

"The body does not want you to do this. As you run, it tells you to stop but the mind must be strong. You always go too far for your body. You must handle the pain with strategy...It is not age; it is not diet. It is the will to succeed."

-- Jacqueline Gareau, 1980 Boston Marathon winner

Counting Down.

9 days to go until the big day!

The Finished Product.

I am so thrilled with how beautiful my singlet turned out! It is such an honor to display the names of these three inspirational people. I will be wearing their names proudly on the upcoming special day.

Two Weeks To Go.

Two weeks from today, I will be setting out on my 26.2 mile journey from Hopkinton to Boston. Nothing is easy about this being my second marathon. In fact, I find aspects of the training and mental preparations to be more stressful. Last year my training was quite difficult as a result of my injury. I had been diagnosed with iliotibial band syndrome, better known as ITBS. In short, it involves the band of tissues that run from the outside of the pelvis to just below the knee. The pain was a result of the continuous rubbing of the band against the femur during running, which ultimately caused inflammation. Although I prepared for the marathon last year to the best of my ability with this injury by icing, stretching, rolling out my leg, and attending physical therapy, I am currently faced with the same ITB issue today.

The discomfort I am experiencing is what I felt last year with four months to still train and nurture my injury. With only two weeks to go, it is safe to say I am extremely nervous and frustrated. I believe my frustrations with this injury stem from the fact that I am certainly not running this marathon for myself. In fact, I never was a huge fan of running. Swimming was always my main gig, but do not get me wrong, I have grown to enjoy certain aspects of running. I can best attribute this enjoyment to the simple fact that I am running this marathon for cancer.

During the marathon last year, I would pass bystanders who would actually thank me for what I was doing. I did not find my running to be anything exceptional and worth thanking me for, but with each occurrence, I was overcome with emotion. When you are running 26.2 miles, there is much time to think about absolutely anything and everything. I thought about the fact that each of these bystanders have been directly affected by cancer, whether it be someone they knew who fought it, or someone who has unfortunately lost their battle. So when I say I am running this marathon for cancer, it is for absolutely everyone.

So as I said earlier, my second marathon is not any easier. Of course my injury has provided with setbacks in my training and focus, but this is something I can handle. It is merely based on the difficult fact that there are more people this year than last that have been diagnosed with cancer or who have lost their battle. I am running for all of these incredibly brave people.

Running a marathon is hard. Fighting cancer is harder.

In just two short weeks, I will set out on my journey to reach the ultimate finish line: A World Without Cancer.