Marathon Post #18 (Time to kick some a$$)

The big day is almost here, no turning back now











To join in the fight against leukemia please visit my fundraising page at: http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/la11/bsosax



I've already written this marathon update twice, but I thought I'd restart one more time. As usual I'll take the normal route of an update on training and fundraising, however I'm going to wrap this one up a bit differently than any of my previous updates.

I'll start with fundraising. Since the last update I've seen a few more people taking 5 minutes out of their day to donate $5 to help in the fight against leukemia, I'll talk more about that fight a bit later, but for now to all of you who have donated, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to read along, thank you for your awareness, thank you for tapping into your empathetic self to see the world through the eyes of us who have the privilege to fight against this cancer for our own lives and the happiness of those who love us, thank you for taking the time out of your day to help in that fight, and hopefully thank you for telling someone else and starting that process in another person. I say thank you that way, because the words thank you don't express enough. Actually the words above don't express enough either, but they're closer. For various reasons it's not always easy to join the fight, but you all found the time, the energy and the five dollars. Thank you!!! Sincerely, THANK YOU!!!! For those of you who haven't had the chance to join the fight, please do. The link above will take you to my fundraising page, and it'll take about 5 minutes to donate. We still have 2 months to reach our goal of 500 people. Long way to go, but last year taught me not to underestimate those who want to support and make a difference.

Now to the training. This year has been quite different than last. I had what I felt was a good start in the fall. Worked on plenty of short runs and some cycling to get my body going. However that has derailed quite a bit in the last couple months. I've made the attempt to get back on a steady training plan several times, however my body has not cooperated and for now I first have to get a bit healthier. This season, I am battling a bit less with the aches and pains of a running plan and more with the aches and pains of the bigger battle. I have been able to maintain some type of minimal workout routine and have put back about half of the weight I lost over the past 12 weeks. I am optimistic that over the next week I can at least begin cycling consistently and after that start some steady running. I have 2 months to train for the big day, and that begins now with getting my body to a better place. Hopefully my next marathon update will be following a good workout.

Now I'd like to finish this off in a different way. I'm writing this as I'm flying home from work, sitting 30,000 feet in the air. The in flight movie was about a runaway train, which seemed ridiculous to play to a group of people sitting in a plane (don't want to think about transportation disasters). On today's flight I am getting to enjoy one of the perks of flying across the country regularly for work, which is an upgrade to first class. Still trips me out to be up here. And from looking at everyone around me, I'm about 15-20 years ahead of schedule!!! My warm cookie after dinner made me begin to think of all the amazing little and big things I am thankful for; warm cookie, haven't lost my hair from treatment, a very good job, a date Saturday night, getting to see the snow fall in a city (Boston) for the first time ever, beautiful nieces and nephews who make me so very happy, the ability to help my father put in yard drainage last Saturday, happiness that comes from a very full life, finding love in a way that I didn't think existed outside of the movies (Beth) and having that person both: be a running coach & be in love with me in return, the ability to experience so much during my life (especially the last 5 years), my romantic trip to Europe over the new year, my perfect weekend in New York in the fall, the fountain in downtown, the sunset from last Sunday, and so much more. I have had a life that if it ended today I would be very, very proud of. But even with all that there is a not so pleasant side to this battle that I've mentioned periodically throughout my marathon updates dating back to season 1. Fear. I don't want to do the sob story, or reach for the sympathy vote, but I do want to give a little insight into what it's like for the thousands fighting this battle and what your donation helps fight against. I thought I'd spend the rest of this paragraph talking about, fear. I'm a 6'2", 195 lb (when healthy) 29 year old male. I know that I'm not supposed to openly admit to being afraid, but that would be an omission of the truth. There are so many ups and downs in dealing with Leukemia, but the one constant in this battle from day one, is fear. Every day there is the fear of how bad today might feel. Everyday there is the fear that this may be a harder day than others, or that this might be the beginning of the end. Every time the phone rings there is the fear that it may be "The Call" from the doc. Every time there's a treatment the fear of how bad it will feel afterwards is present. Every biopsy there's the fear of how much pain will have to be endured. There is the silly fear that more hair will fall out to the point where your bald. Those are a few of the small fears. Then there are the big ones. There's the constant fear that holding it together won't last much longer. Or that putting on a brave face will be impossible. That the courage you depend on to get out of bed each and every morning will disappear. That you start down the slippery slope of feeling bad for yourself, or thinking that you were somehow cheated by all of this. And then there are the biggest fears. The fear of hurting those who you care about. The fear of your battle ruining their lives. The fear of letting them down. Every day, every person who has to battle with leukemia will be living with these fears. To make it worse, so many of them won't be able to understand or articulate these fears, because they're just children. The organization (LLS) that I'm raising funds for helps not just in the fight against leukemia but in the fight against fear. They support those on the front line of the battle by; sponsoring research, funding the development of new research, ensuring that families are able to be together, ensuring that patients are able to get the treatments they need, helping find ways to make that treatment less painful (hopefully much more of that), providing support and information for all those fighting alongside their loved ones who have been diagnosed and many, many more ways. I'll end this update with this. Every day there are thousands and thousands of people who live with this fear. Not by any choice of their own. Not by any bad decisions, or irresponsible acts. Many of these are children (leukemia is the #1 cancer killer amongst children). Please take the next 5 minutes to go and donate $5. Then, more importantly, take the 5 minutes after that to send the link to this blog to some of the people in your life ( www.ihaterunningbutihatecancermore.blogspot.com ). This year I made the promise to run the marathon to many of my friends who are fighting this battle. It will be ridiculously hard, but it will be even more ridiculously worth it, especially if we can get 500 people to join our battle against leukemia.

Thanks for your time reading this, and please feel free to repost this or a link to it anywhere you think it may raise awareness ( www.ihaterunningbutihatecancermore.blogspot.com ). Also for those of you also running and raising funds and support, if you don't have the words to tell your friends and family what it's all about, please take these words (just remember to change the fundraising link to your own).

Please leave comments I really love them.

B

Marathon Update #17 (yep still doing this)

As my girls well know, fear shouldn't decide what you experience in life. I'm afraid of this year's run, but i'm gonna run.





to donate to the fight against leukemia please visit: http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/la11/bsosax

Well it's been quite some time since my last marathon update, kinda fell off the horse, but I'm back and it's update time again. Seeing as it's been a long time, I'll take a second to go over what and why. I am running the 2011 Los Angeles Marathon to raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS). For those who don't know what LLS does, to put it simply they help dying children.

So now that the what and why is out of the way, time for the update. So I am a little over 2 months away from the event and I am nowhere near ready in any way. For those who remember when I started training for this year I made two critical strategic changes from last year. The first was to not do any long runs to save my body, which got extremely fatigued and worn down during training last year. The second was to fundraise by getting 500 people to donate $5 each, the emphasis being on spreading awareness of the fight against Leukemia. Well 2 months away from the marathon I am far far behind on both accounts.

The training: Well this area I'm really struggling with. I started my training with my body not feeling great. I worked hard on increasing my speed on short runs and put in a few 5k runs to keep it fun. During the training as my body started to feel not so good, I decided to slow down on the training and wait to feel better so I could hit it hard when I felt better. That was about 10 weeks ago, and now I'm here with my body feeling far worse than it ever did during last training season, and nothing but a couple of 5ks under my belt in the last 10 weeks. Now I'm at the point where I can't wait to feel better I just have to start training. So injuries and pain be dammed I will at least get some miles behind me, (tried running for the first time in a couple weeks last night only to re-injure my ridiculously painful left calf) and hopefully get one half marathon in before the big day.

The fundraising: So this one I'm gonna need help. The idea is to have 500 people donate $5. It's a great cause, and it only takes a few minutes (website is: http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/la11/bsosax ). Please spread the word, my non F'book marathon update blog is at: www.ihaterunningbutihatecancermore.blogspot.com . Leukemia is the #1 cancer killer in children and the LLS helps in research for treatments that help people survive and fight the battle in a less painful manner. For those who don't know some of the Leukemia treatments are very, very, very painful. I am still afraid of some of them, so I can't imagine how hard it must be for a 5 year old to comprehend why they have to endure such things. Also I just lost another friend to the disease. The man who challenged me to run, and who I challenged to stick around long enough to see his daughter take her first steps, and say "dada" lost his battle. But he fought in a way that will make his daughter proud, when she is old enough to hear about his courage. He was given only a brief time by his doctors and outlived their predictions by months.


I will do a better job going forward to get these updates out regularly and my body be dammed I will train. Please leave comments. This year is going to be much, much more difficult and your support means more than you can imagine.

Marathon Update #16 (one more time)

This photo reminds me that overcoming our fears can lead to some of life's best experiences and our proudest moments. And as of now I am terrified.








MARATHON UPDATE #16 (One More Time)



To make a donation visit my website: http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/la11/bsosax



Ok, so I was planning on doing more of these this time around, but somehow I’ve found a way to let life impede that. But here we are. So I’ve officially kicked off training for this next marathon 2-3 times to no avail. Every time I got started, I let the fact that this is going to be extremely difficult and scary stop me. Well, I’ve once again “officially” kicked off training for the 2011 LA marathon, and this time I did it by running a 5k (3.1 miles). I actually placed third in my division which was cool, but leads me to believe that I was either mistakenly added to the seniors division, or that there were only 4 or 5 people in my division. That said, I’m officially training!!! I’ve added some additional motivation to the reason I’m doing another one of these marathons (more on why I’m doing another marathon later) and am doing pretty well. As I’m typing this I’m sitting with my dinner (fresh produce and water) after having completed a pretty good workout. So I figured I’d ride the momentum and do an update.



How this season will work for me. So last year I asked for support in many ways, one being donations and I was blown away by the support. We raised over $4,000 and had over 100 contributors, many of who I’ve never met. That was amazing. Truly, truly amazing. The effect of having over 100 people step up to the plate to help a cause, raised awareness and caused a few more people to get involved in the fight against cancer. That gave me the idea for this season’s fundraising rules:



1) The goal is to raise $2,500



2) I would like NO donations greater than $5



That means we need a minimum of 500 people donating!!!! That is a bit crazy and scary but I truly think we can do it. As much as the funds raised change lives, the awareness raised changes the entire battle. I’ve already got some feedback on this strategy which I’ve boiled down to some FAQ’s:



1) Why only $5? - I really don’t want to be that guy who is asking for a ton of money every year, but I don’t want to stop raising awareness and funds for the battle against leukemia that I am intimately familiar with. And $5 should let everyone who wants to, be able to contribute. Times are tight, but for anyone who is unsure if they can spare $5, a trip to the City of Hope to watch a child go through a biopsy where they rip a piece of bone out of their pelvis should help (sorry for the guilt trip).



2) What if I want to give more? That is awesome and I appreciate that you want to. But please DON’T. There are two reasons for this: a) I want for all of you and me to be able to spread the word about the 500 people giving $5 to change the world, and a bigger donation kind of messes that up. b) If you want to give more, and only give the $5, you’ll have it inside you to go beyond the donation and perhaps tell people. At least that’s what I’m hoping.



3) How will you get 500 people to donate? That is the million dollar question, or $2,500, dollar question. Last season we had over 100 supporters. If everyone got 5 people to take 5 minutes out of their day and give 5 dollars (notice a theme) we’d hit our goal. The truth is we won’t have everyone get more supporter. Unfortunately we’ll probably only get ½ of that. So that means that the 50 of you who want to support again this year, need to get 10 more people, or have your friends get new people.



4) Why do you want to raise less money? It is true that my goal is lower than what I raised last year, but the effect of having over 100 people gain awareness about a disease that is the number 1 cancer killer amongst children was priceless. Some of those 100 supporters got involved in making and difference and the army to fight the battle against cancer got bigger. That to me is worth more than a few thousand dollars. If this goes well perhaps in 2 or 3 seasons we could be shooting for 5,000 people donating $5.



5) How can I help? I thought you’d never ask. First off donate 5 dollars. Second start telling people about this awesome guy you know, who is kicking cancers ass and running marathons to help children who are dying. If that doesn’t work, show them a picture of a puppy. If that doesn’t work RUN, because you’re talking to the devil. If you need more reasons as to why this is an awesome cause, here is a link to a Marathon Update from last season that goes into greater detail:

http://ihaterunningbutihatecancermore.blogspot.com/2010/02/marathon-update-7.html



So now that I’ve explained the ground rules, I’ll tell you why I’m doing this again. For all of us fighting this battle, either ourselves or through a loved one, there are 2 days you dread. The first is the day we all dread and that is the day you don’t wake up. The second is the day your doc tells you the fight is over and you’re going to lose. About 2 months ago someone who I’ve gotten to know well through this experience had the second of the 2 days. Having a daughter who at the time was 7 months old, more than anything he wants to see her walk, hear her say “da-da” and maybe have enough time to impact her happiness enough so that it will carry through to the rest of her life. Picking on my over competiveness he gave me a challenge, if I could find a way to get my body to do another marathon, he’d find a way to stick around and see it. So here we are.



Now that I’ve made this update far longer than I originally intended I’ll conclude with this, the last season and the support changed me forever. To give back I want to find a way to use that to change the world. If we get 500 now, there is no reason that can’t be 1000 the following season. And then who knows, maybe I’ll stick around long enough to get to 25,000. Spread the word and feel free to send people the link to my blog: www.ihaterunningbutihatecancermore.blogspot.com



Oh, and leave comments, I love them.



B

Marathon Update #14 (What did I just do???)

This photo reminds me of how beautiful life is, and what amazing things can be done with determination and work. Most importantly though, this photo reminds me of just how much I am loved even if I don't always see it.




So this isn't the first time I've started update #14. But so far my previous attempts have barely begun to shine a light on what I'm trying to express. So here we are once again, hopefully writing update #14 for the last time. I'd like to use this chapter to begin to share what the entire marathon journey has meant. I'll begin by saying that I see this marathon journey as a piece of a bigger journey, which is my battle with leukemia. And I see that battle as part of a larger journey which is my life. That being said, my marathon journey has been a greater challenge and more life altering event then I could have ever imagined.

It's been a little over a week since race day. Nine days to be exact and I still have trouble quantifying what it is I actually accomplished by running the LA Marathon. For those of you who have actually crossed paths with me over these past nine days, you probably realized the race and the experience are still difficult for me to talk about. I'm trying for my own sanity to figure where this difficulty comes from. For starters I never expected this race to tap so many emotions bubbling deep within me. Actually, having any experience that draws so deeply from my well of emotions is something I've yet to become accustomed to. In addition to the emotional side, I am still trying to quantify how big a feat I actually accomplished. So as I try to pin down some points as to what this has meant, I will begin with why this experience has taken me off guard.

To put things simply my marathon journey has grown beyond anything I ever foresaw. It has grown much larger than the life I was originally willing to give it. I originally ran this race for two main reasons. This was always something I've wanted to do. Running a marathon, running the LA marathon has been a dream for quite some time. With that dream in mind, I saw my window of opportunity to attempt the run as possibly closing. That window was one reason I chose to run this years LA Marathon, the second and more driving reason I chose to run was to inspire my friends and partners that are battling leukemia also. From the moment I first signed up to run, this group (some who I see bi-weekly others every 6-8 weeks) have been inspired by what I was attempting. They have been supportive and understanding during the tough parts. And they have been waiting, waiting for me to fail. Waiting for me to fail, because when you're in the midst of battling with leukemia you don't really expect extraordinary things to happen. And if anyone had the right to expect that it was those who knew just how hard it would be. I wanted to run this marathon to inspire them. To give them hope. To maybe make a difference in their battle. That was something I could quantify. That was something I was hoping for and expecting from this journey. What's happened has been greater than that. I've been told I've inspired and given hope to so many more people. I've been called a "hero" by someone I consider a role model for my life. All this was totally unexpected. I have to admit that I love hearing these things, but I also have to admit that I don't know how to handle them. In the basest terms, I'm just not that great with receiving compliments. But being someone's "hero", "inspiration", or "hope" is really beyond a compliment. I have been humbled by the thought that I could touch people who weren't battling along with me in that way. I have no answer in my soul yet for what that means. All I can say at this point is I'm in love with the idea of it, and if you truly do find this inspiring please spread the word. The more people who hear this, perhaps the more who will stand up and run to make a difference. If one more person buys into the thinking, "I hate running, but I hate cancer more" and runs and raises funds to fight leukemia who knows what difference that might make in another person's life; in another person's world and all the lives that world encompasses.

The experience outgrew my expectations in other ways. Part of what I was looking forward to through completing this challenge was that sense of personal accomplishment. I love the idea of doing "great" things. I especially love accomplishing what I'm told I can't accomplish. I'm used to the idea of moving at my own pace and playing within my own boundaries. The thought that my doctor would underestimate me was not unexpected. My own belief that I could do this was very high going into the training. The first half of the training was difficult in its own right. I'm not a runner, so learning to run distances was a new thing. I really dislike running so committing to run so many times every week was a bit of a challenge. There were many difficulties I was expecting. However as the training season progressed the challenge grew larger and larger every day. Each practice the runs were harder for my body to cope with. Each week I had to juggle between what my coaches expect from each team member and what I could reasonably expect from myself. Nine weeks out from race day my training peaked at an 18 mile run. The fact that I had made it this far I knew was an accomplishment, however I hadn't made it yet. And over the ensuing weeks as I started to realize what it cost my body to get that far, and how much harder it was to run. I really doubted whether it was even possible, or wise to run the 18 miles again let alone 26.2. I conserved my body as much as possible for the last nine weeks. I ran only a fraction of what was asked of me by my coaches. I saved as much as I could for race day, and I ran. If you want to know how race day went, I cover that in update #12 and #13. To summarize it was harder than I could have ever imagined. The challenge, and my own personal sense of accomplishment with it had grown beyond anything I could have expected.

This journey has morphed into something beyond what I foresaw. It has also changed the way I approach life and those I share it with in areas I wasn't expecting. Since I can remember I have never been one to ask for help. I actually feel quite uncomfortable accepting any type of assistance. My battle with leukemia hasn't been any different. I have progressed over the years in allowing those close to me to know and share this experience with me. In so many ways I found support and supporters during this season that I could have never envisioned. And with that I began to open myself to the world. This writing is a prime example of that. Even now I cannot think on how much love and support I've received and not be overwhelmed with emotion and humbled by how amazing it is. It has been an experience unlike anything I have ever known. When I began this journey I had some ideas of what was on the road ahead, however a dynamic shift in how I seek and accept support and aid, and an outpouring of love was nowhere on my map.

Those were three huge areas where this experience became greater than anything I foresaw. And in some ways because it has become something bigger than expected, I can't begin to wrap my mind around the whole experience. Some of what I feel is: I can't believe I did it, that was harder than I could have imagined and I'm so proud I finished, did I really inspire so many people, will this really make a difference in anyone else's life, I am humbled by what can happen when you ask for help, I am amazed and feel so unworthy of so many people who want to be there for me, I kicked cancer's ass even if for just one day, how will this change my friends who are also battling, how will this change everyone else who has had some part in the experience even the part of spectator, was what I did really that big of a deal, I can't believe I went from having four friends run previous marathons in my honor with my name on their jersey to running my own damn marathon, could this possibly be one of those things that changes lives beyond the scope of my own world and consequently changes the world, I cannot believe that I am so loved, I really cannot believe that I am so loved, my nieces can be brutally honest but I love them so much and hope that I can tell them about this journey when they're old enough to understand it better, if it's a question of will I now believe I can do anything, I hope any benefits from this don't fade away and it becomes pointless, I can't believe that I am really someone who inspires others but I want to, I love my friends and family, I've gained some amazing friends from this, and I still don't know how to quantify how big a deal this all really was.

For now I'll end there. I know this was not my most articulate chapter. Actually I don't know if I really made any progress in my own understanding of what this means and how it's changed me, I hope it's clearer for any of you who are reading. As always feel free to share this and my entire blog, (www.ihaterunningbutihatecancermore.blogspot.com). If even one more person begins their quest to help find a cure it was all worth it. For those of you who still want to donate and support the fight for a cure to leukemia please visit my official fundraising page at: http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/LA10/bsosax


Thank you everyone so much for your love and support. It has changed my life. And as always comments are greatly appreciated.

B

Marathon Update #13 (the aftermath)

My race day jersey collection. All of these people carried me on their back for 26.2 miles to help all of us fighting get closer to a cure. Thank you guys so much. I love you.









To donate and help in the fight against leukemia please visit my official fundraising page at: http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/LA10/bsosax

For any new comers my marathon journey story begins here at marathon update #1

Well first off let me say I'm sorry for everyone I haven't got back in touch with since the marathon. It's now two days after the race and I have a long list of people to reply to. I'm getting there. Ok so now back to the update. I'm going with "the aftermath" as the title because it's feels appropriate in so many ways, not all but so many. I am hoping to drive the course with my running partner to re-live the race within the next day or two. I expect after that ride to have a lot more to write about. I am also planning on writing another chapter about the entire experience, what it's meant and how it's changed my world. But for now I will continue where I left of at marathon update #12.

To start I'd like to go back toward the end of mile 24. This was my darkest moment of the race, and this was one of my greatest moments of my life. Not great because it felt good, or there was a reward or I was happy. Great in the way that I did something I feel so proud of. I kept going. The last mile and half were the most painful. I can remember now more and more of my run. I'm not sure why but it is somewhat surprising that things didn't get easier when I made the decision to keep going. I've always believed that the hardest part of a great feat is to fully decide to accomplish it. And so many times in my life this has proved true. However on Sunday that wasn't the case. I decided to keep going. I decided I would finish or collapse trying. I put every ounce of caution aside and went, (for those of you who told me before the race to make sure I stayed within my limits and only received the "I'll try" response, this is why). I picked up my feet and said one foot and then the next. I ran, I ran hard, I ran consistent. And the entire last mile and half my body hurt more than it's ever hurt in my life. More than I could have imagined. Every pain was bigger, every cramp was deeper, every step was harder than the last. The decision to finish didn't make it easier. I remember somewhere after the last turn onto ocean thinking there is no way I'll finish. There is no way I'll stay standing until the end, but what can I do now? I figured if I stop I'm going to collapse. So why not keep going? I remember a lot of my thoughts throughout the race but here I can remember them pretty vividly. Coming down Ocean Ave I could see the 26 mile marker and for the longest time thought this was the finish. I thought of a few specific things over and over. These may sound a bit absurd, but I'm writing this for me as much as for anyone else so my apologies in advance. I thought of a boy I met about two years ago named Joseph. He died from Leukemia at age 7. It happened that the two times I visited the hospital when he was there he was due for a very painful procedure. We talked about a lot of things. He loved basketball. I gave him some tips to learn how to dribble better. He loved science, (almost as big a nerd as me) so we talked about random stuff like bugs, clouds and dinosaurs. We talked a little bit about Leukemia. And both times he asked me if it was still going to hurt this time. He was a pro. He had been through everything so many times, but he was still afraid. Truth of it is I'm still afraid of a lot of it. I thought about him, because no matter how much pain I experienced on Sunday or at any other point in my life, I will never experience the pain and fear of a 7 year old going through treatments for Leukemia. I can't even begin to complain about the pain. I think about Joseph a lot. On Sunday I thought about him a lot. I thought about some other pains. Things I've only read about: victims of the atomic bomb, parents who have lost children, people who died painfully at war. I thought about all those things and thought to myself I can do this small thing. I can do this last mile. It doesn't even compare. What I am doing is nothing compared to that. This pain is nothing compared to those. And last I thought about my favorite commercial ever. It's a visa commercial about an Olympic runner Derek Redmond finishing his race even though he pulled his hamstring. I've downloaded and watched that commercial perhaps a thousand times since I've first seen it, especially during this training. It's engrained in my mind. There was a man who worked at a level I could only imagine for years preparing for that race. I cannot begin to imagine how much pain he felt at losing his dream. Any doubts I was having were nothing compared to that. I know those may sound a bit ridiculous but that's what I thought of. Somewhere near the 26 mile marker I told Erica we would take a short walk. I had just figured out that the mile 26 marker wasn't the finish and another 0.2 miles seemed ridiculous. But, in my mind I had no right to stop now. No matter what I was feeling it couldn't compare with what I was focusing on. So we walked. At one point a coach from a different TNT team came up alongside us to encourage us with things like, "you're almost there" and "you can do it". I don't remember what I said, Erica says it was just "Thanks so much." However I remember thinking I wanted to kick him. Yes that is what I thought and what I felt. Perhaps it was a good thing that I could barely lift my legs. He stayed with us for just a minute. Erica said she felt she should get in between me and him because I was "visibly agitated". However he left before she had to. We started running again, and we finished. We kept going for about 20-30 yards after the finish before we figured we could stop, then we hugged and we cried for moment. I couldn't believe it was done. Actually I still can't. I still don't know what to make of this as far as what it means and what type of accomplishment it is. But more on that in another chapter of this blog. During our embrace a member of the marathon staff told us to move along or we'd start cramping up, which was probably a nice way to say "get out of the way". So we walked. The entire street was the runners only area. There was food, which sounded horrible at that moment, and water which was fabulous. I got my little foil after marathon blanket which made me sweat profusely, however the entire last couple miles I was having trouble keeping my eyes open and hands from shaking which was scaring me, so I figured I better keep it on. We walked what seemed like for another 26.2 miles until we saw a friend of Erica's at the pier. After their embrace, Erica's friend gave me a sugar snack and recovery drink to help me out. I must of looked like crap because she didn't offer Erica anything. Then we made our way down to our team area to see if there was some chocolate milk, there wasn’t, and to sign out. After lots of hugs with some of our other teammates I went in search of my family and friends. I was very excited to see my family, especially all my girls. So I made my way to the other side of the pier and found them. The quote of the day was shared by a couple of my nieces and went something like this:

"Did you win Uncle B?"
"I finished."
"But did you win the race?"
"Well it's not that type of race for me."
"So did you win?"
"I finished and everyone who finished won the race?"
"So um, so, so, um, was it a tie?"

Nothing like the truth from the mouth of a child to bring you back to earth. No I didn't win the race, some guy from Kenya did. Even though they brought the hard truth it was amazing to see the smiling faces of my girls after the race. My family was great, and then I went in search of friends. The setup was a bit confusing, and I'd have to say from what I've heard about other marathons the LA marathon was not put together very well. I had so many friends there and worlds collided. To be honest I was far too tired and delirious to care much about it. Thank you again for everyone who came. I had friends from so many different areas and time periods of my life. I even had friends who I never found, I am so sad I never found you guys. I have signs, which will be up in my room for quite some time to come, I got a homemade crown, I got photos (oh if you have any photos from that day please send me a copy thanks). It was amazing. After a while though I couldn't stand on my feet anymore. I could have sat down with all my supporters however I was truly convinced that if I sat down I wouldn't be able to get up again and I really wanted to go lay down in my hotel room. So back to the hotel it was. I laid down to try to sleep which I was able to do for a while. I awoke a few times but the last time I realized I was getting pretty sick. I could feel that I had quite a fever and my mind was quite disoriented. Luckily for me, I've been down this road many times in the past 4 1/2 years so I knew what to do. I took a nice cold shower, and then went down to eat at our team victory dinner. I really wish I could have spent more time with the team hearing about everyone's experience. However after stuffing myself I went straight back up to the room and back into another cold shower. The next few hours was a mixture of sleep and cold showers as I made sure I kept my fever under control. I knew that the after part of the marathon was still very dangerous and that while I had to pay close attention to the first 72 hours after the race I had to pay very close attention to the first 24. I sang a couple duets with the "White Porcelain Goddess" and had what I'm sure were some very interesting fever dreams. But after it all I awoke the next morning feeling worlds better. My body still feels ridiculous. The day of the marathon everything hurt but my back was by far the worst. The next day was much of the same. I spent a good few hours last night alternating ice and a heating pad over various parts of my body. Today, well today I'm hoping that it starts getting better tomorrow, because it sure as hell didn't get any better today. But we are now about 48 hours removed from the run and other than pain I am ok. Lot's of oranges and immunity booster supplements, (thank you mentor lady) and lots and lots of water.

For now I will end there. I am not sure how I will finish this blog. I do want to write more specifics about the race once I drive it. I also want to write more about the entire experience. Aside from those two chapters I'm not sure if there is anything left to tell. So if any of you have any ideas let me know. And again thank you all for every bit of your support. It has changed me. Please spread the word and help in the fight against leukemia. If what I did brings awareness to even one more person it was worth it. If you want to share all my updates the blog address is: www.ihaterunningbutihatecancermore.blogspot.com

Thank you all.

B

Marathon Update #12 (Rejoice!!!)

At the finish with my #1 fans. I did it!!!






So today is the day after the marathon and it still hasn't sunk in that I really did it. To be quite honest I'm having a tough time remembering much of the 2nd half of the race, so I'm hoping writing will help. Not to sure where to start with the whole experience so I'll start with this; the guy who won the race finished in 2:09:10. I finished in 5:36:31. A part of me would have really liked to have finished closer to that 2:09:10 time. I am now at the point where I second guess and wonder if I could have trained better or pushed harder during the race. That being said somewhere between 0.1%-2% of people ever run a marathon, (from my basic research I couldn't pin down a more precise percentage). So I did something about 99% of the population will never do. And I did it with Leukemia and less than a week after my most recent treatment. So I feel amazing knowing that. With that introduction I'll now delve into race day and hopefully I can remember most of it. Also I am writing this as much for myself as for anything else, so I may be more detailed or descriptive than usual, so my apologies in advance.

Race day! Race day came early, 3:45 am to be exact, but that was expected. Up nice and early to get ready and meet the rest of my team in our hotel lobby and shuttle off to the course. The bus ride to the course was a bit extensive. The 110 freeway was a parking lot, literally. The traffic was at a standstill and after a little while we started seeing people walking along the side of the road race gear in hand. What seemed like over a hundred people, (probably less) abandoned their vehicles on the side of the freeway to make sure they made the race on time. When we finally arrived at Dodger stadium it was a mad house. We didn't have to much time before the race started to check our gear and use the restroom, and finding our way around was a challenge. I was very happily surprised to have one of my best friends waiting for me at the stadium, I wasn't expecting to see anyone until about mile 21 so that was amazing. The race began for the super fast people, and then everyone else. I was expecting them to start everyone in waves, (it's what I hear most large marathons do) however it was more like a cattle crossing. About 30 yards out I saw my first victim of the course, poor guy laying on the ground surrounded by about six medical personnel, (probably was tripped and trampled). I started the race with my training team (Team Curly Hair: Me, Erica, Tara, and honorary race day member Alex). The first few miles were ridiculously crowded. The first mile was entirely in the parking lot at the stadium, so as we came upon the 1 Mile marker I could look over and see people still starting the race. The first few miles were fairly uneventful, except for what seemed like an excessive amount of hills.

Somewhere in the first few miles our group split, Alex fell behind to go at her own pace and Tara went on ahead at a restroom stop. Erica, (who was running her second marathon in 3 weeks, and was there solely to offer me support) stayed with me. As usual the first 6 miles offered what I like to think of as "the growing pains". Lots of pains coming and going as my body asked me, "What the hell are you doing?" Mile six was like heaven. The world slowed down, and my body started to hit its rhythm. From about mile 6 to mile 10 I felt pretty good. Some random notes from the first 10 miles: There was a guy running with a big cross on his back made of PVC pipe and we kept leap frogging with him, there were a lot of stinky people especially in the first most crowded miles, I lost one of my chocolate Gu's in the first mile, I saw maybe 3 or 4 people total in the first ten miles that were receiving medical aid while laid out on the side of the road. In total there were 30 runners that had to be taken to hospitals, one is still unconscious from cardiac arrest.

Somewhere shortly after mile 10 things started not going so well. I somewhat attribute this to my own mental state. As I came upon and passed the 10 Mile marker I was thinking a lot about how my doctor had originally said that would probably be my limit. That I would want to run but my body would just shut down. That I wouldn't be able to go much further than that, if that far at all. Well in some regards he was right. Miles 10-20ish are all a blur. Somewhere after mile 10 things started shutting down. It began with my right hamstring cramping. I had another salt packet to help, but the cramp got to the point where I could barely bend my right knee without the muscle seizing up, so I pulled off to the side of the road to stretch (the first of many stops). This was when I realized things were getting bad. I tried putting my leg up on something so I could stretch my hamstring and immediately my quadriceps seized up and cramped. I tried pulling my leg behind me to stretch my quads and my hamstring freaked out. I tried touching my toes to stretch my calves and hamstring and there began what was a few hours of the worst back spasms I've ever experienced. All that said, my first stretch break accomplished nothing in the way of stretching. So knowing that at that moment I couldn't stretch the hamstring I started back out on the course. It was shortly after that the second part shut down. My left quadriceps, which had never before even slightly bothered me began to cramp. Actually, the cramps were just above the knee about every other time my left foot struck the ground. That was the first time I had ever had a cramp like that in my life. I once again pulled of to the side of the road to stretch. Here I massaged my quads as well as I could and made the decision that I'd have to sacrifice my back for my hamstrings. It was getting to the point where I couldn't even take a step without my hamstring seizing up so it had to be done. I bent over and touched my toes, which felt like I was ripping the lower half of my back in half. It was horrible. Some more salt and back on the track. The spectators along the way were amazing. Some of them had snacks and I had more than my fair share of bananas. The signs were pretty awesome. Some of my favorites: "Chuck Norris never ran a marathon", "You're amazing", and "26.3 miles would just be crazy". The spectators were amazing. The whole journey was far more emotional than I anticipated, but I was so moved by all these people out there cheering for us. I was really touched. Add to that the fact I was wearing my Team In Training race day jersey which evoked a countless amount of "Go Team" (our official team slogan) and so many thank yous for fighting cancer. The man bearing the cross continued to leap frog with us, and I found a few other people who seemed to be about the same pace. Marilyn Monroe was there running, and I told her I'd buy her a drink at the end, (I forgot, sorry Marilyn). Miles 10 to 20 were a blur as far as the order of things, but I do remember a lot of the randomness. My body began to continue to break down. I soon got to the point where both legs, (quads and hamstrings) were alternating cramping. Luckily my back spasms were mostly just while trying to stretch at this point. Somewhere along the way I had to pull off to the side and throw up, (kind of gross sorry). I'm not exactly sure when that happened. Another time I was on the grassy street median, and fell over while trying to stretch. I remember that happening because it was both very embarrassing and extremely painful. I tried to play it off that I was just sitting down to stretch but I don't think Erica bought it. Someone came and offered me a pain relieving spray, but I had to turn it down because I was afraid that if I took anything to dull the pain I wouldn't know what was going on with my body, and not being able to monitor things would be dangerous. At every mile there were water stops which was amazing. The volunteers at the water stops were awesome. Encouraging us as we went and working hard to make sure we had water and Powerade. I could not thank them enough and by the end of the race I probably told at least a dozen of them that I loved them. These miles were when I really had to mentally buckle down. I had to find ways to inspire myself and keep going. My first tactic was to think about everyone who told me I couldn't do this. Thinking about how this is something I shouldn't be able to do and I was gonna do it anyway. After a little of that I needed something different. Listening to the names of everyone who donated was great. Actually that was one of the best race prep things I did, (thanks mentor lady for the idea and "206" for recording the names for me). After that I needed something more. I thought about the smiling faces of friends and family that would be waiting for me at the finish. I especially though of how great it'd be for my little ones to run up to me smiling and excited to see me. All of these thoughts helped push me. And I revisited each one several times. However Somewhere closer to mile 20 everything shut down. The headaches I'd been fighting off came back as a mini-migrane, all my leg muscles seized up on me at once, and my back started spasming uncontrollably. Add to that, the bottom of my feet felt like they were on fire, especially the left. This was the first time I really didn't think I could do it. I came really close to shutting down and stopping. I no longer felt confident that I could tell the difference between the acceptable pain and the dangerous pain. I no longer felt I could continue to handle the pain I was already experiencing. This was one of the darkest moments of the race. This was the point where everything in the race changed. It was no longer an experience but now soley a purpose. I thought about my friends who passed away losing their battle to leukemia. I thought about my friends who were still fighting. I thought about how much this would mean to all of the them. I thought about all the children who are fighting and how hard it must be for them. And then the real reason I started this whole thing kicked in and I was no longer running for myself. I made myself think of what it'd be like to let them all down. I thought about how it'd feel if another one of my friends took a bad turn with their disease and I thought "what if I'd finished the race? Would that have inspired them and made a difference?" I thought about all this, and then I got back on the course and ran.

Miles 20 on are where I really have a tough time remembering, so hopefully I can accurately cover that. Somewhere around mile 21 a great friend met me with ice cold grapes. They were the sweetest, juiciest grapes I've ever had. I'd have to imagine that's how good the fruit was in the Garden of Eden. I wish I could of ate more, but holding things down was tough. I also had my close friend from the starting line back. Both friends got huge hugs which were as much to say thank you as they were to give my body a little rest while I was leaning on them. I walked with these friends for a bit, but I soon realized that if I didn't start again now, then I wouldn't ever. So Erica and I got back on the course and ran. I really don't remember much of the 20's. I had my slowest mile, roughly 20 minutes and my best mile (best not fastest) mile 26. The 20's were hard. I had to think a lot about why I was there. I had to think about that so much. I wanted to quit so bad. I don't know how I did it. There were several times every ounce of me hurt. There were several times I had to pull off to the side of the road and pretend I needed a stretch because I was afraid I was gonna fall over. There were several times I stumbled and there were several times every leg muscle I had simultaneously cramped. It was painful. It was torturous. It was the most difficult thing I've ever done. Hands down, not even close the most difficult thing. I knew I could quit and nobody would hold it against me. There were a couple scary moments when I got a bit dizzy or it was hard to keep my eyes open and I had to stop and thought maybe quitting would be the smart thing. But usually around these moments some really old person would cruise past me, or someone who reminded me of one of my lost friends and I'd think to myself, "I can, I can". So we ran on. The last few miles I was able to run a bit more regularly, however I wasn't able to keep going for more than a couple minutes at a time. Somewhere around mile 24 I was done. I cant remember where we were at, or what happened, but I remember being on the side of the road and thinking, "this is it. I'm done." I couldn't put any pressure on my feet, and couldn't stand in any position that didn't result in something cramping up. I vividly remember telling myself, "you're finished." That was a very dark moment. Very dark. I pictured my friends, both those fighting and those who've lost their fight and told them how sorry I was, but I couldn't go on anymore. I just couldn't. I remember bending over trying to stretch and Erica saying, "come on let's go." And I did. I ran. I ran strong, I ran well. I focused everything I had on finishing. I stopped caring if it was dangerous. I stopped trying to figure out if I was pushing to hard or if this was the dangerous pain. I decided that I was going to move. I was not going to stop. If I collapsed than so be it. If I passed out on the course than so be it. But I was going to move toward that finish no matter what. I remember that decision. I remember that moment. I don't really remember after that. Erica says I had my best stretch where I ran nonstop for about 12 minutes. I had my fastest mile since way earlier, and I ran. I took a walking break to gather myself again. And then I ran to the finish. I finished. I did it!!!!

For now I am going to end there. I will do another update that covers more about the finish and after the race. But for now, I need a mental rest, even writing about it, is far more emotional than I anticipated. Thank you again everyone who has supported me. I love you all. Please spread the word, there are so many people fighting a battle with leukemia, and any and all awareness moves us closer to a cure. Feel free to share my website and blog to help spread the awareness. Also please leave comments, I love them.


B

I did it!!!! I did it!!! for everyone who believed I me and supported me, I can't thank you enough. you all helped pull me through.