So what happened?

What a relief it is to be able to leisurely check in with everyone and explain that while slow I still finished. I tried to thank all the course volunteers, but especially the ones at the finish. I felt queasy enough running toward Copley Square and they spent all day there.

I will continue thanking people for the foreseeable future. I am so grateful for everything - on race day I am thankful my family stuck it out waiting for me, thankful for Connie for catching me and her friend Gerry trying to massage my calves, thankful for Rebekah walking me up Heartbreak. 

I took about an hour and a half longer to finish than I'd expected I would.

I started strong, having trained pretty well although with a sore knee, and ran about twelve miles. The weather was a lot warmer than expected, and a lot of people were having trouble keeping things together. I thought I was drinking enough and taking enough salt/pretzels/sports drink to be replenished, but after mile 12 both my calves kept seizing up when I ran more than a few hundred feet. The sore knee I was running through. I could not solve the calves.

For the most part, I could walk, and as the day progressed the "Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston" refrain stuck with me. Perhaps if it was some other race I would have packed it in when I reached my family at mile 17.  

I knew I was in for a long day if I had to walk it but I could walk it, and I really really wanted the finish line under my own power. #BostonStrong and all.

I was at peace knowing I'd get there long after most of the crowds had thinned, and I was touched that there were many people still along the back half of the route happy to have someone to encourage!

A medical tent at Cleveland Circle finally fed me some salty broth. I kept walking, and trying to run without being able to get more than a few hundred feet before my calves seized. At mile 25, something fired up enabling me to run that last mile + .2, the mile I wasn't able to run last year. Right on Hereford, left on Boylston. In tears, relieved.

I got my medal, my mylar jacket, a finisher's time for coming in just under six hours, raised piles of awareness and funds for Samaritans, got to know some incredibly strong Samaritans teammates, and learned a little something about how generous my community is. I also did my small part to help Boston reclaim its signature race.

I have said for years that on marathon day you do the best you can with the day and body you have. Until yesterday, I had the good fortune to be able to work with reasonable days and a cooperative body. Today I'm walking, slowly, and grateful for everything. I guess this experience confirms that I'm a real marathoner.

I did learn that it takes a lot of work to come in last at a marathon, because there were plenty of people behind me.

There'll be pictures forthcoming.

Thank you.

So, here we are, the eve of Boston 2014. I feel about the same as last year, physically, but I am very hungry to get across that finish line tomorrow. 

First off, the letters t-h-a-n-k-y-o-u have completely worn off all the devices I use to communicate. I cannot say that enough to everyone who donated to Samaritans, participated in the Happy Holly Days or Joe Sent Me! fundraisers, donated stuff, encouraged me and supported my family (and each other) in the aftermath of last year and the lead-up to this. The community I come from is so strong, so generous, this has been quite an experience. I look forward to taking a couple of finish line selfies and personally thanking each of you after I've recovered a little bit. 

Second, I will not be setting any speed records tomorrow, but if you want to track me by text, AT&T can hook you up. My # is 32763, the link to sign up for alerts is http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/participant-information/att-athlete-alert.aspx

I will start sometime after 11:25 and I will finish hopefully well before 5pm, if the proverbial creek doesn't rise.

How much good have we done? I project to have raised approximately $9000 dollars this year (or more than $16,000 over the last two years). The Samaritans team has raised over $240,000 - close to twice the initial goal set for us. The John Hancock and BAA Marathon charity program overall has raised nearly $25,000,000 for all the charities involved. I am proud to be a small part of something doing this much good. 

Lastly, you may remember the podcast produced last year by Amina Chaudary of The Islamic Monthly. She has taken that a little further this year and turned it into a short video production. I share it with you not to extend my few moments of fame but because it allows me to continue the work of spreading the message about Samaritans and the suicide prevention and grief support 

services they provide for free. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmHi40TeLcM&feature=youtu.be

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

RIGHT here, RIGHT NOW, or: Welcome to the taper...

Two weeks. 14 days. Approximately 336 hours. 20160 minutes. 1,209,600 seconds. 

Unless I get my adrenaline rush under control, the equivalent of 

1,008,000 heartbeats and

403,200 respirations

that my adrenaline wants me to DO ALL NOW! AT ONCE! RIGHT NOW!

The marathoner in me knows  about pacing, endurance, and that even if I did in some spectacular way manage to do all the physical business of being alive for the next two weeks IN ONE SECOND I would still have to wait 14 days for the rest of the world to catch up. 

Welcome to the marathon taper. 

Cute puppy video links welcome, it's going to be a long two weeks. 

This sums it up: The Boston Marathon for Samaritans by way of Crowdrise tracked on my new Bia Sport watch and held together with KT Tape and Joint Ventures PT by way of John Furey.  While rooting for the Red Sox and drinking lots of water. How much fun is this? 

To track me during the marathon, I am runner #32763

32763

If it were easy...

Will someone please tell my IT band that this is my World Series. My Olympics. The biggest athletic stage I'll ever compete on. 

Unless it isn't. 

I'm never going to outrun it and I do use the word "compete" a little loosely. I'm no Big Papi, no Mikaela Shiffrin. I'm not going to win. 

The best I hope for is that finisher's medal and Mylar jacket in Copley Square later the same day I start in Hopkinton. If I accomplish that, and if I can find some extra encouragement for my fellow Samaritans team members and anyone else I come across along the course, then I will have gotten it done. 

After last year's finish, and this winter's teeth, getting to the start is the victory. The rest is a celebratory lap. A long one, sure. 

36,000 people are running this race. My # is 32,763. That's even more people than took the bar exam my year. 

It is important to me run this thing right 
to honor Shaira and her community 
to honor those who have donated to Samaritans on the strength of my recommendation and commitment
to pay my respects to the running world and those lost and traumatized last year

But I am not important to this race. There are 32,672 people starting ahead of me and 3,237 people after me. The marathon will go quite oblivious to my presence. 

One more long run this weekend; from here 24 days until the Marathon. My response to IT pain this year differs strikingly from last year. I've already gone 19-20-21 milers, so I've done a lot more long running than I did last year. I know what I'm capable of doing on race day with only one of the long runs in me, so I do not need to worry about getting on the bus and back to Boston on foot. 

Yeah, it's going to hurt. Something is going to hurt. It's a marathon. I'm not young. If it were easy, there'd be a million people running and only thirty six thousand cheering. Enough to fill the Wellesley scream tunnel. 

Oh, and IT band? Meet lacrosse ball. Ice pack. Naproxen sodium. And, to quote a beloved Snoopy bathrobe of my youth, "Raw Strength and Courage." You might be thick, tough, chronically inflamed and tearing my knee apart, but you will not stop my marathon!

One more thing: I'm totally psyched for this: http://www.oldsouth.org/one-year-later#scarves thanks to the encouragement of some of my biggest fans! It's not too late to send a scarf! The black-looking color is really blue. Not my best work but it'll be at Old South Church in plenty of time!

Fundraising party a wild success

I suppose I should have set out an estimate for how much I hoped to raise at Joe Sent Me! but I didn't. I suppose even if I had, what we raised last night as a community would have totally exceeded any amount I could have guessed. 

I cannot possibly express my gratitude for everyone who donated products, services, gift cards, and everyone who bought raffle tickets and bid on stuff and everyone who enjoyed a free chair massage and tipped generously, and everyone who has offered so much support not only to Samaritans but to me personally. 

I could not have pulled this off without a lot of help!

Please support everyone listed here when you need stuff!!

Sadly, the chocolate raspberry cheesecake went home with someone else, but it did go to a good home!

I am thrilled that Kirstie, who works for Samaritans, was able to join us and help out! And it was nice to see some fellow runners in their street clothes!

Wingspan's worth of raffle tickets? 

Get a massage from Chris. You will not regret it!

The bottom line? $1200. I live in an amazing community. Thank you!!!!!

"Fear is Never Boring"

Great song by a local band from my hometown. "I'm out on a limb where the fun begins..."

Sixteen years ago I ran my first marathon, the inaugural Flying Pig in Cincinnati. Slowly.

I was afraid of everything. 

My body the course the distance my projected time finishing not finishing the weather the sports drinks the water stops the porta-potties the other runners the spectators the lack of spectators my sneakers, timing chip, socks, shorts, bra, shirt, hat, fanny pack (which I was right about and wound up handing to a little kid halfway through). 

Sixteen years later, I fear melanoma. Asbestos exposure. The college application process. 

I pathologically fear throwing up. Not sure how to desensitize myself from that one... 

I do not fear the course - last year I kind of did, but it turns out I hadn't taken into consideration what danger really lurked. No one did, no one could have. So maybe I have decided, finally, not to fear what I can't predict and instead turn towards controlling what I can and trust the rest to sort itself. 

This year, I have not obsessed over every twinge or cramp, and there are twinges and cramps. I don't know whether it's age or experience that has taken my anxiety offline. Perhaps the catastrophic events of last year have put everything in perspective. 

I respect the course, the distance, the weather, my gear and food/drink. I also trust my legs, my heart, my brain, my gear...the security policies in place this year, the general love Boston has for this event.

In two years, with your support, I have raised nearly $12,000 for Samaritans suicide prevention and grief support services, with five more weeks to go this year. Like Arlo said in the live recording of "Alice's Restaurant," 

"If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud.I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing itFor another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired."

I'm not scared, or tired. I'm revved. I could run 52 miles...I have two more twenty-milers planned (the first this weekend, the second on the course in a few weeks!) and I am so inspired by the support you all have shown Samaritans!

FUNDRAISING PARTY!! March 22!!

On March 22, from 7-11 pm, join me for a fundraising party showcasing the generosity of the community supporting Samaritans through my marathon - the generosity of all of you!!

Where: Joe Sent Me at 849 Main Street, Waltham. 

Why? Help raise money to support Samaritans suicide prevention and grief support services!

Raffle items: You can buy tickets from me in advance, winners do not have to be present when we pick the winning tickets at approximately 9:45pm)
 - $25 gift card to Coyote Impressions (Support this donor!)
 - $25 gift card to Taza Chocolate (source of my post-long-run recovery Mexican hot chocolate Cacao Puro!)
 - $50 gift card to J.R. Burke Salon (my tresses-whisperers) (Support this donor!!)
 - $50 gift card to Marathon Sports (Support this donor!)
 - Mystery novels signed by local (and famous!) authors!
 - Hand knit baby blanket - donated by John Gillis and Kathleen Kelly!

Silent Auction:
Bidding ends at 10pm. I will help with proxy bidding if you cannot be there/cannot stay. For items under my control (batches of truffles, for example, if losing bidders will match the winning bid we may be able to work something out!)
 - JUST ADDED:  chocolate raspberry cheesecake courtesy of Ron and Patty Moore (winner must be present otherwise this sucker's going down!)
 - Oral B Braun Professional electric toothbrush - donated by Dr. David G. and Maryellen Wyman! ($125 value)
 - In-Home private yoga class donated by Jennifer Parker ($100 value) Great for everyone from marathon runners to couch-jockeys...
 - SoulCollage® workshop for up to five people. Valued at $375! See http://soulcollage.com
 for details about this creative and self-reflective card making process! Donated by Jen Navarro!
 - One-hour long massage from Chris Hansen Juliani founder/owner of Boston Chair Massage at her Arlington office! (Value $100)
 - (rumor: designer bag by Very Local Designer)
 - (rumor: hour-long family/pet photo shoot from Very Local Up and Coming photographer)
 - Two dozen handmade cookie dough truffles (Value: $30)
 - Hand knit socks by yours truly - priceless ;-)
- Companionship on a long run, bike or swim (or all three) at your pace and distance with yours-truly! - priceless!


On-site Chair Massage! Chris Hansen Juliani founder/owner of Boston Chair Massage will be at our fundraising event offering chair massages for donations to the Samaritans. Also see her Silent Auction donation of an hour massage at her Arlington office for the auction!

Donations to Samaritans welcome, as is all the moral support you can muster  - this is a marathon after all!

THANK YOU!!!!!!!

A peek under the hood of an early morning long run:

Headed out wicked early this morning to get a 19 miler in with everything else I was supposed to do today. By wicked I mean 5:08. A.M. Yeah. 

Here's how I think that is probably not how most of the rest of the world thinks: 

I think, I can run a big loop for an hour and twenty minutes, pick up my running buddy who did not want to go that early or that far, loop with her to come back to my house at the end of her part of our run together so that I could pick up my dog 

so the dog could run the last hour with me. 

It worked. I made my friend's porch about three minutes late, and my dog got slightly more than an hour's run, and I made my 9:15 meeting fed and washed. Our milk was spoiled, though, so I did not get my Taza Mexican hot chocolate recovery miracle. 

And feeling pretty amazing for having trundled up and down our neighborhood hills for three hours and ten minutes. THREE HOURS AND TEN MINUTES! Booyah. 

Before I picked up my buddy or my dog, I had time to think. 

Today I thought about the memorial service many in our neighborhood attended Saturday, for a wonderful, fierce, too-young mother-artist-athlete-wife-friend (in no particular order). 

I also thought about shouting - not because I was in danger, but I wondered how loud I could shout, and knowing whose houses I was near, I wondered how many neighbors my voice would carry to. Many of these neighbors who were at yesterday's service, and the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that...

Putting these lines of thinking together, I thought about how much generosity these neighbors have shown each other in these recent times of struggle. We have opened our pantries and cooked for one another, we have opened our wallets for donations honoring these struggles, we have given of our time whenever it was asked of us, without a moment's thought about being inconvenienced. 

I thought about how even though we'd all rather have everyone in our lives remain well, we know the way the world works and at the slightest hint of trouble there'd be an email and meals scheduled three months out, with a waiting list filled with those who got the email too late. 

I also thought about my upcoming fundraising party, and a concert I'm producing in April, and all kinds of other things. But my happiest thoughts, as I ran past street after street on which I knew so many who had given so much to others nearby, were of gratitude for the strength of these networks. 

But there's another thing, too. This network of care feels very midwestern, less of how I have lived for so long in Yankee Boston and more of how I might have grown up in Ohio. 

No one would be more surprised than my younger self to know that one day I, too, would take my part in such a community. Sort of exactly like an It Gets Better moment. It got better than I ever dared to imagine. Maybe it's a function of getting older and living in one place for a long time, but it feels like something else, too. 

I know that distance training brings up all kinds of emotion. I've written about the snowglobe effect I've experienced. And I'm sure that the folks from around here haven't given this a moment's thought, that in a slightly different time or place someone like me would think twice before attempting to participate fully in a community. 

And yeah, the world has changed in a lot of places, but not everyplace, and I am filled with gratitude to be where I am now, in this community, where I am not even the only crazy running machine, and my covered dish quietly, rightfully, takes its place in the queue of outpourings sustaining those in need. 

A brief inventory approaching six weeks of lots of running

114 donors, $7,590, two pairs of pink Mizunos, five hundred training miles, and probably 5 pounds of cookie dough truffles that likely never actually made it into truffles. That was 2013. 

So far for 2014 I've gotten 45 donations and I'm about a quarter pound in on the first round of cookie dough, without the patience to truffleize them. Spoonfuls. 

 

http://www.bigoven.com/recipe/167091/cookie-dough-truffles

This weekend the polar vortex weather let up for half a sec, although yesterday's sidewalks were icy it felt brilliant to train in warming sun. I did not need this hat, though I think the coming week calls for oodles more cold...

Saturday's group run called for only 10 miles. Which included Heartbreak Hill and on into Kenmore Square. It's getting a little more normalized, but I still get chills cresting the Hill and as BC, then Fenway and the Hancock tower come into view. Fenway. Red Sox. Spring. Finishing Boston. But I digress. 

Yes, I'm in pink shoes again. 

I have been wearing these for traction on my bike commute more than for running, seeing as how they'd probably mess up the treadmill pretty badly...

Only. Not too long ago I would have never believed I'd consider "only" a modifier for a 10 mile run. I'm running strong, I love our Samaritans team, and I cannot say enough good about how much support I have been shown on this journey. Samaritans supports its runners well, and the runners support each other. It's a treat to be able to take part. 

But really what's on my mind as I write some thank-yous for donations received is how humbling it is to receive any of this support. People in our community have gone above and beyond, over the long haul, to help neighbor families in times of loss. I am motivated to be a better person, a better neighbor, through participating in and witnessing these myriad acts of kindness. Donations to Samaritans support Samaritans, of course, but also reflect the strength of our belief in our own community, and support for me and my crazy running trying to do some good. 

With just under two months until the Marathon, my next six weeks will be spent alternating weekends running 20 miles and running 10 for the weekend long run, and trying to squeeze in an 8-10 miler on a weekday morning before work, with weekly hill runs and bike commuting thrown in there for active recovery and saving time to get the long runs in. More cookie dough, stat!

Stay tuned for more info about my fundraising party to be held at Joe Sent Me! in Waltham on March 22! I'll be raffling off gift cards and donated signed mystery books, and a silent auction will include a photo shoot, cookie-dough truffles, hand-knit socks, and so far a donated SoulCollage® workshop valued at $375! Donations of time, services, companionship on long runs, or anything you think will help are welcomed!

Another high school suicide. This is why I'm running.

Newton, a nearby town, is reeling from losing a third teenager in recent months: Newton School's Support After Suicide.

“Every parent feels this in their heart,” Ruth Reibstein, whose two children recently graduated from Newton North, said in an interview in Newton Centre. “We all know people who are suffering, and you can’t take away all the misery and pain. All you can do is reach out and help where you can.” From the Boston Globe, Feb. 8, 2014. 

I can't say it any more loudly or clearly. As a parent, as an adult and community member, I reach out my arms to catch kids falling, and in this nightmarish reality, unlike when they were small and portable, now they are big, full of self-determination and whatever it is that prevents them from reaching back for safety.

With  my toddler I played a game that spooked an early childhood specialist. I'd say, "Baby overboard!" and my physically out-there toddler would fall backwards in my arms - always and only when it was safe would I say the magic words, when I had a good firm grip, never off of a hotel balcony. The specialist recovered her composure and said, "She really trusts you."

I would give anything for arms wide and strong enough to catch these kids. Knowing I can't do that, the next best thing is mustering support for agencies that can. Samaritans does.

Tomorrow, on my journey to Copley Square, I'm planning 17 training miles. I really do not care what the weather's going to be, I'm going to do these miles, this training, this marathon, and this fund and awareness raising anyway.

Do you know a troubled kid? Check out these resources, including signs a child may be at risk.

How Samaritans Helps Teens...

Just under three months until April 21, when I run my heart out lifted by all the support I have received (as well as all the cheering and support given all 36,000 runners from screaming marathon fans as well as much of metro Boston off work and inconvenienced by the marathon route anyway...

What I want everyone I know who knows teenagers to know is that Samaritans is not just for adults. Over this two-year journey to Copley Square, I have talked with many who have used hotline services, volunteered to respond to crisis calls, and lost loved ones to suicide. My takeaway is that being able to talk about the loss, or during the crisis situation, is vitally important to being able to carry on with the work of being human. 

I'll let the Samaritans website tell you about their teen-specific services: 

The Samariteens is the youth peer leadership segment of our Befriending Services. It is dedicated specifically to the prevention of suicide among teens. Begun in 1986, this teen help line provides confidential peer support and understanding to teens who are struggling with feelings of depression, loneliness and stress. From 3 p.m. to 9 p.m. on weekdays, and 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. on weekends, this service is staffed by volunteers between the ages of 15 and 18; outside those hours, calls are answered by adult volunteers.

There are a million reasons to feel alone. Samariteens are available to talk about any of them. Callers to the Samariteen helpline do not have to be feeling suicidal, and most callers are not. Each year, more than 15,000 callers receive support, respect, acceptance and tolerance – for whatever reason they call.

IM Hear_ is Samaritans' new instant messaging service for teens, by teens, being piloted at High Schools in the greater Boston and MetroWest area. If you are interested in learning more about this program or having it available in your school, please contact Kelley Cunningham. 

Also note: teen volunteers answer 54 hours worth of teen helpline calls each week. That's a lot of volunteer hours. I imagine it is an empowering opportunity for kids to learn how much they have to offer, how much of a difference they can make. 

Yesterday, I ran 16 miles in support of these services. Please join me, however you can - I'd love the company especially when the wind chill is below zero, but if you aren't able to run, you can help by spreading the word about Samaritans, or supporting them with a donation. Thank you!

Embrace it...or...Soy más fuerte

Staying off the subway, extreme edition, proving two tenets this morning:

1. I'm told yes I was dropped on my head once as a baby.

2. There is no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear. Today's 9 mile bike commute started in apparently 2 degree air. Brought to you by garmont hiking boots, marmot thermals, that full-wool sweater from Ecuador you bought in the student center lobby almost thirty years ago, Gore tex, ll bean for the jacket, and black diamond mittens (the ones that do nothing for you waiting for a bus miraculously kept most of the cold out this morning!) And fleece. Thanks heavens for fleece, including my Samaritans hat!

My phone said I couldn't use the flash in low temperatures...

Stay warm and careful out there!

Warm pajamas

Beautiful morning for a 16 miler (two hours forty minutes). My body feels good - nothing so sore that an ice pack can't fix, and I keep going out for longer than planned, finishing strong. I had company (Thanks, Jen!) for the first few miles, then it was me and my brain, my breathing, and eventually some light snow. 

Had a great catch-up conversation yesterday in which I was reminded why I'm doing this off the charts running, committing to my third marathon in three years, committing to honoring the memories of now two young women from my community by raising money for (and awareness of) Samaritans, Inc. suicide prevention and grief support services. 

At a high school guidance meeting for parents, we were presented to about suicide and the supports available through school. It has been a difficult stretch for our town, having lost two children as well as last year an entire family to a murder-suicide that involved a father, mother, and twin infant boys. I'm obviously heartened that the school is applying resources to connect students with support and awareness. 

This morning, in relatively balmy thirty-degree weather, I thought about warm pajamas. I suppose when it's been much colder I haven't had the luxury of thinking about much but survival. This morning? Beautiful. 

 - A few years ago, when my thyroid hit the weeds, functioning so low my physician wouldn't tell me the number, I would get up and dressed for the day and stand there staring practically in tears at the pajamas folded, still warm, on my pillow, desperately wanting to get back into them and go back to bed. It took me several months to figure out that this went well beyond my typical winter hibernation and say something to get started down the road to diagnose and fix. 

 - When my daughter was small, I would gather her pajamas for the laundry, appreciating the sleepy warmth clinging still when I got them early, grateful for a small being to care for, grateful for that warmth, our ability to provide a cozy place to sleep, a warm house, a soft bed. Warm pajamas. She's a lot more responsible for her own laundry, and she's long outgrown the feety pajamas with embroidered cupcakes and critters that so melt my heart, but we have her, for which I am grateful. 

In my neighborhood, there are families grieving the loss of their children. I cannot fathom the extent of this grief. A small thing I can do is run a marathon to support a service provider with a mission to prevent losses like these. 

Please join me. There's a link over there ------------------------------------>
Thanks...


Watch this space for details of an upcoming fundraising party/raffle/silent auction to help raise money for Samaritans. Thanks!

Apropos of nothing, here's what today looked like: 

this is me, a little gassed after sixteen big ones. 

this is some of the appalling amount of calories I get to take in on a day like this - Taza cacao puro hot chocolate! If you look closely you can see the reflection of the splint on my finger that has almost fixed my six month old overuse injury from taking too many photos and still needing to get an external mouse for my laptop...

Marathon Training, Frozen Tundra Style...

So this is how it's gonna be. Well, Happy New Year from the land of permanent First Night Ice Sculptures. 

It occurred to me that this is my third winter in a row filled with marathon training. I ran Hyannis in February, 2012. That was the mildest winter of the three, hands down. Warm, little precip, a joy for training. 

A fluke. 

We appear to be in year two of an ice nightmare winter trend. Cold, wet, icy, snowy. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Erasing all memory of spring leaf, flower, fastball. 

This past Saturday, I ran thirteen miles on semi-plowed suburban sidewalks. In single digit temperatures. I overdressed - three layers on my legs and five layers of shirts/jackets. Three layers over my ears (balaclava, hat, turtle fur)! A pair of gloves under my mittens. 

I could have subtracted a layer from my legs and probably two from my tops but the wind chill was supposed to be in the minus twenties and I hate the feeling like I'll never be able to warm up after I've gotten chilled. The feeling that sets in November and doesn't lift until mid-May without me even leaving the house. 

At this point, with road shoulders plowed like clogged arteries, darkness, and bouts of arctic air, winter feels insurmountably constricting. (Though around here we are now getting more than a minute's worth of additional daylight each day, and finally sunrise and sunset are both moving backwards to more humane hours.) 

I so want to just stay in bed. But. Boston is calling and I want to run it like I own it because there will never be another one like it...and I'm not sure I have another one in me. So I train. 

I so want to just stay in bed, but Samaritans takes 350 calls each day - 24/7 - and I am honored to be able to use my running to make sure resources are available for each individual seeking help. I think about caller 351 - will that be someone I know, care about, depend on? Will Samaritans be able to take that call? 

I was asked why I'd run 13 outdoor miles on a day like Saturday, especially since I have a treadmill available. If I didn't get out there, winter would win, and I've got far too many years left in me to be cowed by an entire season. Even if I'd prefer it act more like 2012 and less like 2013/2014. I know what it's capable of and am disappointed terribly in this winter's failure to live up to that potential! 

With a heavy heart...

So. This is a training blog. Through which I will share my journey from here to Copley Square.

This is week one of eighteen leading up to the Marathon. For the next 18 weeks, I will obsess over every twinge, sniffle, hill repeat and sprint. I’m currently watching a finger, both IT bands, and a hip, for those keeping score.

However, as I lay out my training plans for the next few months, this week reminded me that this marathon, like last year’s, is about something more important than how much I'll be running.

My community has suffered another loss, another teenager who, like her friend in whose honor I have been running, fought depression hard. At the funeral, her Rabbi made a point of describing her parents as good parents. Her family read poems and talked about the child’s love of all life aquatic and appetite for adventure. Her curiosity. Her ability to draw connections that most of the rest of us would never get to on our own. Her brother said goodbye. What felt like ten thousand people from our community almost immediately surrounded the family (both families) with hugs and food and memories.

And I’m thinking to myself, I’m running only a marathon. Only 26 miles. Not nearly enough to measure out my grief or the empathy I carry for families who’ve lost children, especially this way. 

I have two really important reasons to run this marathon in support of suicide prevention and grief support services, but really I have about 4500 just counting the kids in my town. I know I cannot stop every suicide, but I can do my part (with your help) to make sure that support is out there for people at their most vulnerable, and for those who have to learn to live with loss.

Hug them hard. Make sure they know that there are people out there who will reach back, without judgment, if they need to reach out. And make sure that they know they can volunteer, too, to answer calls, chats and texts from kids like them. Every one of them has more to offer than they know.

http://www.samaritanshope.org

"Love is strength, stay strong Boston"

I do not easily fall for groupspeak. However. This #BostonStrong of which we tweet...

No one is in this alone, perhaps, is what the bombings have given us a chance to say to each other. Because it could have been any of us, it was all of us? This sentiment resonates with the work of Samaritans and my whole point of running the marathon last year. 

Earlier in the blog I wrote about two times I went splat training last winter, I think. I've already had my first black ice wipeout - thankfully on foot, testing whether I should try to bike down the hill (no!) and I got up again. Should have been a stunt double for all the falling. Good practice for my later years, I guess. But I digress. 

Boston Marathon 2014 gives everyone touched a chance to get up again.

I mean, really. Could they have picked a more symbolic public assembly than the Boston Marathon? It's not even work here to lift the symbolism from sub- to text. Really. Dumb@sses.

Anyway, #BostonStrong. Since April, I have passed this encouragement, just off Mass Ave in Cambridge, on my way to and from my temp job: 

Mid-October, before THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES! I found this in Lexington, at Wilson Farm. 

And, over the summer, when I was fortunate enough to be on holiday just about as far west of Boston as you can get and still be in the USA, #BostonStrong crossed the Pacific Ocean and affected someone there, too (graffiti in HI involves dead coral white rocks on black lava rock canvas. Cool, no?)

Aloha, indeed! What's your #BostonStrong?

I'm ba-ack!

I'm back...

I know the blog was called ...2013...but until I cross that finish line in some ways it's one long continuation race. 

The Boston Athletic Association graciously allowed those of us who came close but didn't finish to enter in 2014 without qualifying or committing to fundraising. Runner interest in Boston 2014 surged, and I'm guessing the Boston marathon fan base - everyone who camps out there along all 26 miles for hours for the sole purpose of cheering on strangers - will amplify the running world's desire to see this marathon through. 

I felt some of that - I still feel electric when I tell the story - the afternoon I ran my last mile a couple weeks later - when a very busy Copley Square full of strangers spontaneously (with the help of some friends who insisted on more cowbell) became the finish line cheering crowd. I took that as the city needing us to finish the race as much as we needed to for ourselves. 

My enthusiasm for running in 2014, and I'm sure the energy of the event itself, will be tempered by honoring the loss and suffering so many carried away that afternoon. By running this race, my intent is to testify resilience...another year older and still at it. I am not generally susceptible to regional sloganeering, but Boston Strong, indeed.  

And, also, despite the BAA pass, I'll be fundraising again, talking to everyone I meet about adolescent mental health and the suicide prevention and grief support services offered by Samaritans, Inc. The agency's incoming call volume went up about 40% in the aftermath and has remained high. 

I have seen how much difference a few bucks make to Samaritans, and I have seen how much difference their services make to people in need. It is an honor to support Samaritans, an honor to run in memory of the daughter of friends, Shaira Ali, who died by suicide on marathon Monday, 2012. 

I was asked whether I might have some trepidation about running Boston again, if the marathon might not again attract bad actors, might not be safe. I can't say I haven't given it a little thought - and I know the BAA and others have given that a lot of thought. 

I have talked to runners who have decided to sit this one out, and to the other seven of us Samaritans runners from last year who are all-in for 2014, with all the fundraising and training our new teammates have taken on. There are good reasons to make either decision. 

For me, two things. One, my commitment to Samaritans and my desire to honor Shaira's memory remain strong, and relevant. 

Two, I do not want to live in a world constrained by what ifs and bad actors. A thin layer of possible realities separated me from harm last year, thin enough to justifiably dissuade me (and others) from heading back there again. And I do have my ancestor's genetically programmed anxiety...

But here, I'm going with the pull to live in - to make - the world in which I and many others run strong across that finish line and show the crackpots that they messed with the wrong "f*ckin' city...," that people are resilient and strong and where there is bad intent, there is so much more good waiting to reveal itself.

Oy. I'm running again, and raising money, and having some fun along the way. Please join me! Stay tuned!

It wasn't about me.

I keep thinking to myself, "This is the last thing I'm going to say about the marathon...this is the last thing I'm going to write about the marathon." And if this had been a normal marathon, I suppose that would have been true roughly two weeks ago. The marathon would rest as a complete narrative; I'd casually swap times and running resumes with other runners. I'd look forward to next year.

Five months ago, I didn't start in on this marathon to be all about myself; however, through the process of training, recovering from injury, and running the marathon I learned much about myself as a community member and athlete.

This marathon doesn't end being about Shaira and her community any more than it ends being a story about me. Couple of local guys with explosives made this marathon about so much more than any one person's story. Looking at a roomful of 100 people in this community, I see at minimum 1,000 stories of connectedness to just this year's race; everyone in Boston knows at least ten other people who ran, volunteered, cheered, waited at the finish for their heroes, either this year or some other. Many have hearts heavy with grief and pain for victims in their personal circles.

People remain hospitalized making unthinkable decisions about their bodies. Funerals, memorial services, interfaith services have been held, spring erupts, life goes back to something like normal in these parts. Since the story is now bigger than I can imagine, I will share the story of my last mile - many others will run this last mile in the coming weeks. This mile does not belong to me, this story does not really belong to me, but I think it shows something about the character of this city, and the strength of the shared social fabric we comprise.

I went downtown April 27, a gorgeous spring afternoon, to run my last mile. 

In the coming weeks, more and more runners plan to get that last mile - many of those who couldn't finish are local, running for charities. We are able to get downtown to finish without incurring another plane ticket since most of us call the Boston metro area our home. 

I didn't head into town alone. A full minivan including my running buddy and her husband and my daughter's soccer coach (and family friend) who came to run with me. Also in the van, a friend and my partner who both came to cheer (supplied with a cowbell I reluctantly agreed to let them use). We were met downtown by another pair of long-time friends, one of whom got me into endurance charity events as a bicyclist who has dedicated much of his free time over several years to raise money for AIDS research and program support. They brought chocolate.

We were also met by a reporter from WBUR to talk about recovering from the events of Marathon week.

While waiting outside Marathon Sports for everyone to park and catch up in the crowds, I met a couple of therapy dogs, including Burton, a 155lb Lionberger with paws the size of my hands. Crowds silently took in the memorial at Copley Square, boarded up windows and such damage as remains visible. There were crowds shopping, eating, walking, taking pictures. Three blocks of Boylston teemed with people.
    
The four of us running headed back from the finish line, jockeyed our way through throngs to take a right on Hereford and a left on Comm Ave, me looking for the place I left the course to go find safety and start putting things back together.

I found the stretch - between  Charlesgate and the Comm Ave underpass. 

We turned and headed back to take the right on Hereford and the left on Boylston that I had so looked forward to since I learned I had gotten a number last December.

As we run, I get a taste of what will meet us at the finish - we start getting smiles, nods, applause, high fives.  

My group approaches our cheering section which is ringing that cowbell and whooping it up a bit. I wanted things low-key, figuring public safety personnel have enough to worry about, but as we threaded up in traffic and our cheerers cheered, Boylston St. became the street it had been at 2:49pm on April 15. High fives. Cheering. Whooping. Clapping. From both sides of the street. From cars stuck in traffic. Hands stuck out car windows for slapping. Smartphones went up snapping photos. Not one complaint about impeding traffic. 

When I came to a stop a small crowd gathered to exchange hugs and stories. A Watertown firefighter stopped, graciously accepting our appreciation. I felt like a rock star. I felt the social fabric mend. I felt a bit of healing, a bit of closure. I felt electric. 

This is a town that knows how to cheer for a marathon. Home-grown explosives did not dent that spirit. Saturday I ran two miles. I crossed a totally worn blue and yellow finish line on a busy street to the delight of strangers from all over the world. I would do it again in a heartbeat. That last mile was for me, but more so it was for my cheering section, the city of Boston, the marathon itself... Armed extremists will not shut me down, did not shut down Boylston St., and did nothing but strengthen how much this marathon symbolizes. I needed the mile, and I am guessing the crowd needed me, needs us, to get that mile, to keep going. I can't imagine how powerful the "official" last mile event will be. 

I will not close by saying this is my last word about Boston 2013. I've learned that lesson. I am always going to be someone who ran the 117th Boston Marathon, someone who lived in the Boston area for that unbelievable week when the news was hard to believe and really bizarre things were happening in places where I  go about the business of living my life. There are countless stories to be told and connections to be made from living through these events. 

Just after the marathon, I spoke with Amina Chaudary, editor of The Islamic Monthly, who did a beautiful job producing a podcast, up on That's Some American Muslim Life, about my reason for running Boston as a Samaritans fundraiser.  

The day I ran my last mile, I spoke with Asma Khalid for a WBUR story: "How Does a City Heal?," about how various people are recovering from the shock of the week's events. 

Click here to see a collection of photos from the last mile. 

 
What's your marathon week story?

PS: Support Samaritans! Thank you!