Winning Chicago.

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Team Down. Not Out! Ready to get started in Chicago.

The Chicago Marathon was more memorable than anything we could have dreamed! Our whole team really appreciated all the support, notes, and video cheers along the way. I was touched by how many of our friends and family followed us online during the day.

As I barely rolled into class on time Monday, a colleague who didn’t know our story asked me, “Did you win?” I said, “Hell yeah, we won!” [As I explained, with a little too much emotion, I’m sure he was sorry he asked.] Here are some of our team’s winning metrics:

Friday night, Ann was honored with the Heart of a Champion award from the American Cancer Society. Just wow. Such a surprise, and so well deserved.

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Standing ovation and not a dry eye in the house. Ann was stunned.

Saturday we learned that a few final donations put Down. Not Out! over $15,000 in fundraising for the American Cancer Society. Geri also raised $3500 for the Ronald McDonald House! Go team!

Sunday morning brought perfect weather and excitement to get started. We waited nearly 20 minutes to cross the starting line. 6 hours and 27 minutes later, the five of us crossed the finish line together.

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Yeah!!! Finished!

Maybe most importantly, for others diagnosed with metastatic cancer, Ann showed that you don’t have to put your goals and dreams aside. Finishing the Chicago Marathon promised hope and inspiration to others.

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Heart of a champion. Go BIG or Go HOME! #LikeaBoss

We had an amazing run and walk through the streets of Chicago, told incompletely here with a few stories and photos.

  • The Sears Tower (now renamed, don’t ask me what, something with a W) was always in sight, seemingly always in a different direction.
  • Highlights of a big-city marathon like Chicago included the colorful neighborhoods, funny signs, and wacky people along the course.
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Like Elvis.

  • I found my running shoes after a momentary panic attack where I couldn’t find them, then calmed down and started considering just how bad it was going to be to run 26.2 miles in Doc Martens.
  • Geri discovered the magic of Fritos and candy during long-distance running. She, Rebecca, and I did a lot of silly dancing with the music along the course.
  • Our cheering section was unmatched! We saw Jeff, Grace, Rose, Frank, Marie, Bernadene, Emalee, and Megan all over the course with their awesome signs.
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Rock star support from family!

  • Reading messages of support sent before and throughout the race carried us along.
  • Ann kept pushing forward, doing run/walk intervals for over half the race, and never complaining even as the sun got hot. She looked for and celebrated moments of joy even during a very tough run.
  • We kept a similar pace as a woman whose husband was wearing a loud, watermelon-print shirt. We started calling him Watermelon Guy and he cheered us on too. He was a hoot!
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Watermelon guy kept hopping on his bike and riding ahead to the next cheering stop.

  • At a few points during the race, my emotions got the better of me, and I pulled my hat down and dropped behind to shed a few bittersweet tears.
  • Even when we were mostly walking, Rebecca encouraged us to run short intervals, which kept us on track for an official finish.
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    Too many names, and not even all of them.

    We carried so many family and friends in our hearts for 26.2 miles. ❤There are far too many names on this list! I hope that research done by the American Cancer Society will one day lead to a world without cancer.

I felt really confident about Ann’s pace, and it was probably more nerve-wracking for those tracking us from afar as we slowed during the race and our projected finish time crept closer to the “official” time cut-off, 6.5 hours. For better or worse, I thought we were fine until I looked at my watch and realized that we’d be a lot closer to the cut-off than I’d originally realized. Fortunately, it was close enough to the finish that I knew we’d make it. We crossed the line together with joy and relief.

As I told Andrew afterward, each of us is struck with a few instances of clarity in our lives, times when you know that you are exactly where you need to be, with exactly the right people, for exactly the right reasons. Yet I’d trade our entire memorable weekend in Chicago, gladly and without hesitation, for Ann not to have cancer. Since that isn’t possible, I felt lucky indeed to be in the best place I could be. On October 8th, 2017, I saw Ann win Chicago, achieve her goal, and bring hope to others with her indomitable spirit. I will remember it always!

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Best cheering section ever! They walked miles and miles.

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Down. Not Out!

 

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One week til Chicago.

The miles are in the bank. We are T-9 days away from the Chicago Marathon, and I feel confident that our Down. Not Out! team will cross the finish line together. I’m so proud of Ann, and I’m excited that I will be with her to see this goal through.

I am looking forward to the adventure, and yet, part of me is dreading it.

I am relieved to have my Table Rock 50K behind me. I enjoyed it thoroughly, but I was nervous about potential injury. Table Rock is a wicked course—one I hadn’t run—and there’s nothing easy about 5700 ft of elevation gain on single-track trails. In fact, it was harder than I expected (but I loved it all).

A couple of weeks ago, friends asked if I was doing extra training in addition to my weekly training with Ann, plus joining her long runs whenever we were both in town. Sometimes Chicago training looked like powerful walk/run intervals; other days we needed to do more walking. Ann persevered. Marathon training with stage 4 cancer is tough. There is no manual or instruction book. She’s writing it.

I sure as hell was not doing extra training. I don’t have time, and I’m not that dedicated. I was undertrained for distance and terrain, but that’s happened before, and it turned out OK. Still, I fumbled over my response. “No, but it’s fine.” Well, of course, duh. “Look,” I said, trying again, “my priorities are clear.”

I knew they were missing the whole truth, but I didn’t try to explain. I was worried that I might burst into tears unexpectedly and make everyone uncomfortable. Still, I squirmed inside about the possible misunderstanding.

My priorities are clear. That is true enough. A mistaken assumption, however, might be that my only priority is to help Ann finish her marathon. I think even Ann worried about it some. However, that isn’t the case at all. First, Ann has had many, many friends support her training. Second, I needed these miles together. For me.

As we neared the longest runs of her training two weeks ago, Ann said one day, with weariness, “I can’t wait for this training to be over. It is really hard on my body.” Her honest words filled me with deep sadness.

We knew that she would need to hang up her running shoes, to protect her long-term health and have energy for other goals. I’ve worried about her training. I know she’s making a good decision, at the right time, and I admire Ann for making the call and doing it on her own terms. Living life large has always been her style.

But there will be weeks and months and years ahead where I would trade anything for that time spent running together. Time that is free of distraction, often in the company of other friends. No agenda, just time spent sharing what’s on our minds, laughing about our kids, making plans, and telling stories.

I will miss it terribly.

So today, we run together. To get Ann to the start—and the finish—of the Chicago marathon, and fulfill a longtime dream of hers. At the same time, I am filling my cup for the road ahead, one without my best friend running by my side.

My priorities are clear. I treasure every single day that we can lace up our running shoes together.

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Crystal Coast Half Marathon, 2011. One of our worst races together (Ann had a fever and my IT band crapped out), but the girls’ weekend with friends more than made up for it.

2015 tour de cure

Tour de Cure 2015. This was an awesome challenge for us to tackle together, since neither of us is very comfortable on a road bike. One of my favorite pics, taken at the end of the second long, hot day of riding.

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Sunset Beach Half Marathon last spring with the Peeps. It takes a flock!

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Chicago Marathon training in July with some Peep support.

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Many adventures are still ahead. We don’t just run. We also camp, eat Krispy Kremes, and listen to bluegrass. Plus a whole lot of other stuff.

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Our husbands (and kids) never question our crazy adventures and are our rocks of support. We’re looking forward to celebrating 20 years of friendship in 2018.