My best friend Ann helped me start running again, back when we were 20-something neighbors living on the bucolic Trusty Trail (nothing bad can happen on Trusty Trail—maybe we should have stayed). It was a great way to carve out time together. The upcoming Chicago Marathon will be Ann’s fifth marathon, my eighth. Although we ran our first half marathon together (2006?), we have never run a marathon together. Don’t think we haven’t tried!
I told her when she and Nancy ran the ING Marathon in DC in 2008, their first, that I’d never run that far (I’m still eating crow for that line). A year later (haha), I was at the starting line for my first of four Umstead Trail Marathons (I have yet to convince Ann how great this race is). Three weeks prior, she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer for the first time. I bought a pink shirt and ran the race with her on my mind. Even though she was feeling crappy, she came out to Umstead to see me finish. We hugged and vowed we’d run the next one together.
Ann, Nancy and I threw our names into the hat for the NYC Marathon the following year—it was their second attempt at the lottery, my first. It never once occurred to me that I might get in and they might not. But, that’s what happened! I ran NYC in 2010 and Ann and Nancy finally had the chance to run NYC in 2013. Then I ran the Blue Ridge Marathon in 2014, while Ann—wisely—opted for the half marathon option after all the training she did for NYC the previous fall (we did, at least, run the first part of the race together).
Last year, only a few weeks before she was re-diagnosed, this time with metastatic breast cancer, Ann ran the Asheville Marathon—but it was only 2 weeks before another race I had planned, so I decided to pass.
Ann has chosen Chicago as her last marathon, and hell if I’m going to miss out this time!
I have the opportunity to earn a slot and contribute through fundraising for the American Cancer Society as part of Ann and Nancy’s DetermiNation team, down-not-out. I committed to raising $1500 by the end of September. I am happy to invest my time toward achieving this goal, because the number of people with metastatic cancer is growing, and we need better answers, better treatments, and better outcomes.
A recent analysis of people with metastatic cancer projects that 11% of the younger patients will survive beyond the 10 year mark—and that’s supposed to be good news. We need to do better.
I am wary of lotteries now (see NYC Marathon, above), but I would bet on Ann any day of the week to defy those odds and lead that group of survivors. Just this morning, she pulled out half mile splits at a sub-10 minute pace—despite the July humidity and the many side effects of what I call “invisible chemo” –because she’s still on chemo, but that’s not evident to most of the world.
She may be down, but she is not out! I want to run 26.2 miles with Ann and her team, and see her achieve her Chicago Marathon goal. To read more of my story, make a donation, or cheer us on, please visit my page. You can read more about Ann, her story, and my other teammates on our team page. I’ll see you in Chicago!
Warm wishes and many thanks,
This summer will be how I always intended to live,
Mapped out neatly in my notebook next to the scribbled to-do lists,
Allowing me to breathe in the sauntering, unstructured days of summer.
Filled with possibility and unmarred by the daily grind.
I shall go to bed early and sleep until I am rested.
I’ll nurture my family with meals we make together
With the summer bounty from local farms.
We’ll eat and laugh around our table, sharing our joys and woes
With space for deeper conversations, too.
I shall ride my bike to work, and give away things I no longer need;
Walk gently on the Earth, with pauses for wonder.
Appreciating my abundance with austerity and generosity,
Recalling that time is the only currency worth seeking.
My neglected summer garden
Will be raucous and beautiful, yet unsullied by weeds–
For I will work in my garden for an hour each day.
[I shall call it “happy hour.” Or maybe “half hour.”]
I will read a new book every week, and they will all be worthy
With thoughtful words, fiery ideas, and deeper meanings.
Words will flow from my own fingertips, and they will be precise and uncluttered,
Arranged with perfect balance and cadence and clarity.
I shall run any day that I wish, and soak in the company of friends
Like roots pull nourishment from the soil, and we will linger
Over jokes and earnest conversations with steaming cups of coffee
In the humid early mornings, just after sunrise.
I will seek joy and deliver it with intention to others,
Open my heart, to allow love to wash away the shattered bits
Love without expectation or fear for tomorrow’s woes,
Like drinking deeply from a clear mountain stream
Remembering only the cold wetness the moment it touches my lips.
Then I will awaken and notice the goldenrod flowering
The last brood of Carolina wrens has fledged,
And the sticky days of August are upon us.
Summer days stole by on silent yet swift feet,
Gathering into weeks that were surprisingly busy
And months that disappeared without a trace.
I’ll shake my head and laugh at my Quixotic optimism,
Roll my eyes at my silly, navel-gazing privilege
That enables such dreams and noble intentions.
Nonetheless, I’ll treasure those found moments, and promise myself
That next summer will be different.
It’s that time of year. You’ve seen the posts and heard people gripe about those overly ambitious New Year’s Resolution makers taking up space at the gym—crowding classes and maybe even taking their favorite spin bike. They drop by the wayside in droves after a few short weeks.
I admire these people. I admire them for daring to dream big. For having the courage to acknowledge that they want a change and then going for it.
What if a your encouragement helped someone stay on track? A smile or a kind word? A shared moment of camaraderie at the water fountain: “Whew, been awhile since I’ve done yoga,” “Don’t worry, it will feel easier next time,” “Boy, that is going to hurt tomorrow,” or “I remember the first few times I tried to run. It was tough.”
Do you remember your first run? How did you keep going? How did you stay motivated?
I know. The reality is that many of these people will get discouraged when they fall short of a goal that was too big, and most will give up. But what if something you said helped someone stay on track for another day, another week, or maybe until they reached their goal? What if your encouragement during their first run (and check-in with them the next day) kept them going, and they discovered a love of running? The generosity of your kindness costs little.
I know I’d rather be in that camp than the one that rolls their eyes, shakes their heads, and waits for them to quit.
Take a page from the book of New Year’s Resolution makers.
Think BIG in the coming year.