I got a call from my dad a little over three months ago.  “Dolores, I’m going to train for the Wichita Marathon.”  This had been a goal he’d talked about off and on through the years.  This time he was serious.  What’s amazing about this goal is that Dad will turn 81 on May 23 and he hasn’t run since his fifties when he had trained with a friend to run 10Ks for a few years.

I will point out that my dad is in pretty good shape.  He’s been physical his entire life having owned a Radio Shack Franchise and television repair business, he’s accustomed to heavy lifting.  He had been on the roof not too long ago making repairs.  But, let’s face it, training for a 10K is a little different than training for a marathon.

He had about nine months to train and he jumped right in.  He started by walking and running—first a mile turned to two miles turned to three miles until, a little less than three weeks ago,  he called to say he had run six miles without stopping.  He was running about 30 miles a week at the time.  I was astounded.  He was actually on track to start a six-month marathon training program.  I could hear the smile in his voice.  “I’m going to run the River Run in May.  I’m ready.”  The River Run is a 10K in Wichita, Kansas.  I was amazed at his progress in just three months and his determination.

A week later I got a shocking call from my sister, Linda.  “Dad has a mass on his kidney.  The doctor won’t know for sure if it is malignant until he operates, but in 90% of the cases, it’s cancer.”  A chill went through my body.  I had always imagined my dad would live forever.  I pushed that thought from my mind and fought back the tears.

The doctor suspected it was transitional cell cancer, an aggressive form of cancer that manifests in the urinary system.  Dad was scheduled for surgery only a week later which frightened all of us—except for Dad.  He said he felt great.  He was out mowing the lawn and running errands.  He wanted to run, but the doctor put his foot down.  I’d never seen anyone in such a good mood prior to surgery.  They say attitude is everything.  I was scared but encouraged by his sense of well-being.

He went into surgery on May 8 and one kidney was removed.  The doctor said his level of fitness made a big difference during the surgery and he came through with flying colors.  The doctor also said it looked like cancer but he didn’t think it had spread but we would find out for sure in a few days.  His words were encouraging but now all we could do was wait.

Dad was released from the hospital three days later.  He was making a remarkable recovery.  The next day, the test results came back and we all breathed a big sigh of relief, the cancer had not spread and he will not have to go through chemotherapy.  When I had talked to Dad that day, he sounded great but was disappointed that he wasn’t going to be able to run the 10K this month.  He said he had asked the doctor when he could start running again but the doctor had just stared at him.  Dad was forceful on the phone.  “You don’t think the loss of a kidney is going to slow me down.”   I smiled—I knew he could live a normal life with one healthy kidney—and he would take care of himself.

There is no doubt where I get my gut determination and perseverance to go after a challenging goal.  It’s gratifying to see that no matter what age in life we happen to be, that going after a dream is what makes life meaningful and fun.

Did the running help bring on the symptoms that led to his early diagnosis?  I don’t know.  If it did, it was a blessing.  His fitness helped him get through the surgery and is helping him achieve a fast recovery.  Being fit is key to a fulfilling life as we age.  Check out an earlier blog entry, “Stay Young and Smart as You Age—Run.”  It is a fact, running extends life.

Okay, so Dad will probably not run the marathon this October.  But we all know he will start running again as soon as he is able.  The marathon story is to be continued…  Nevertheless, his achievement of running six miles without stopping in three months ranks high on the scale.  Kudos to you Dad!  Way to go!

 

It is now three weeks after the race run in hell—well it felt like it anyway.  It was a phenomenal hell, if I may be so bold, with the excitement of a grand, historic race.   The angels that lined the streets cheering us on and offering water sprays, ice, orange slices, and popsicles were instrumental in my success to make it to the finish line—the shining gate of heaven.  The 2012 Boston Marathon is over.  Now what.

My recovery is coming along—actually slower than I expected.  There are two parts to marathon recovery, one is physical and the other is mental.  Let’s cover physical recovery first.

I have found through my experience that my body recovers more slowly the faster I finished.  That makes sense.  If I ran crazy miles in my training (like 22 miles on Sunday followed by 12 miles on Saturday running 60 total for the week), I found I could run faster longer, but, despite all the training,  the speed still caused me to have a longer recovery.  So I expected after Boston—posting  the slowest time in my life at 5:26:46—that my body would snap back rather quickly.  Not so…

I have always maintained that running a marathon is more mental than physical.  My emotional recovery has been slow and is undoubtedly affecting my physical recovery.  Again, through my experience, I have always had a period of post marathon blues.  All of a sudden I don’t have a challenging goal for which I’m striving.  I made it—I finished the marathon.  My life is back, I’m not running for hours and hours every weekend.  Usually, a week or two later, I’ve adjusted and happy to be going on with my life.

This time was different.   I had another stressful event taking place at the height of my marathon training.  I joined Toastmasters six months ago and entered the International Speech Contest.  I don’t know which is more stressful, standing at the starting line of a marathon or standing in front of a room full of people, judges included, about to give a speech.  The timing of the contest was not ideal, but I dove right in.

I won the chapter contest and advanced to the area contest and I won the area contest and advanced to the division contest.  I was on a high.  I ran Boston on Monday and competed in the division contest that following Friday.  Double whammy.

I didn’t win the contest…actually I bonked (blanked on my speech) and then developed a severe case of cotton mouth.  Do you know what it’s like talking in front of a bunch of people with your mouth sticking to your teeth?  It was not a pretty site.  Talk about realizing your worst fear!  I knew the speech.  I was well prepared and had delivered it successfully many times before, but not this time.  I did recover and I finished the speech.  I was grateful to have ended that week having finished both the marathon and that !#X!!X! speech.

Okay, after that speech, all the pressure of the marathon and the speech contest was gone.  I crashed and I felt tired, achy and sore.  The feeling of fatigue is now barely lifting and I actually had a strong eight mile run today—the longest since the marathon.   Life goes on after a marathon (and a speech contest) is over.  The best therapy is to create the next goal.

I will be running the half marathon in Santa Barbara on May 12 with some friends.  I do not plan to race it but to run it for the joy of running.  Of course there will be wine at the end of the race—after all it is California wine country.   I’m looking forward to it.  Onward and upward!

I heard a phrase uttered among many marathon participants after the Boston Marathon last Monday.   “I ran a PW.”  Yep, I also ran a PW last Monday.  You guessed it—personal worst.  This marathon tested even the fittest of runners.  It was hot—really hot—record-breaking heat which was reported to reach 90 degrees in parts of Boston.  Some 4,000 runners deferred their entry to the following year, but I didn’t—no, not me.  I trained hard and I was determined to run.

I was seeded into the third wave in corral two, so I started just a minute or two behind corral one which was the first group that took off first when the gun sounded at 10:40am—as the sun was bright and bearing down on us.   A wonderful day if you were going to the beach.

Wave three took off in Hopkinton.  Since this was my second Boston, I knew what to expect and I glided through the first three miles which were mostly downhill.  It was at mile three that I realized I was not going to glide through the rest of the marathon.  I slowed down.  I had started drinking Gatorade and water at the second mile water station and apparently I gulped too fast because at mile 10 I got a bad cramp on my left side.  I had to walk at mile 10—mile 10.  I remember thinking I had 16 miles to go including the Newton hills and it was already really hot.

I decided I would not think about how far I had to go.  I would just take it mile by mile.  Once I rubbed out the cramp, as best I could, I started to run until I felt like I was going to overheat and then I walked to cool off.  I started taking my time at the water stations.  I followed this pattern the rest of the marathon.  I was concerned about my brother Danny and his wife Amy (who came to Boston to support me) and the other friends and family who were tracking my progress through text alert messages or on the website.  Were they thinking I was dead somewhere on the course due to heat exhaustion?  They knew I was too stubborn to quit.  I was dropping further and further behind my projected finish time.  I wished I had brought more Advil with me, because my feet hurt, my back hurt, my head hurt…you get the idea.  I really didn’t think I’d be out on the course for such a long, long time…

The crowd support was phenomenal.  They set up extra water stations along the course which came in handy in the final miles.  Many people took out their water hoses and created sprinklers for the runners.  People were offering lots of ice on the course and orange slices.  There were plenty of high-fives for those of us who were walking.  The BAA set up water tunnels along the course which I took advantage of.  I worked hard at cooling myself off every chance I got.

When I finally got to mile 25, I allowed myself to think about the end—only one mile to go.  I wanted to run the final mile.  I picked up the pace to a blistering 12 minute mile pace.  When I turned the corner and saw the finish line about a half mile away, I was inspired enough to run to the finish—it was the longest half-mile I had ever run but I finished!! !  I know many, many runners did not finish.  Okay, it was my PW by far (5:26) after 15 marathons but I finished.  What is amazing is that I ran a PR (personal record) at my first Boston Marathon in 2009 (3:53).  But, somehow, I think I will treasure this finisher’s medal even more than the first one—it certainly took more effort.

Congratulations to all of the Boston runners who braved the course and kudos to the wonderful people of Boston who supported the runners and the Boston Athletic Association for organizing a well-run marathon.  Thank you, Danny and Amy, for your support and encouragement.  Enjoy those cow bells!

Anything can happen in a marathon—just as in life.  As I have said before, the pain doesn’t seem so bad—now that it is a memory.

 

The Boston Marathon is only eight days away.  The training is over.  It was an exciting, grueling, devastating, and worthwhile adventure.  I sometimes wondered if the day would ever come.  But it is almost here.

Six months ago when I started training, I was excited and energetic.  After all, I was training to realize my life-long dream for the second time.  At 90 days out, the real training kicked in and the grit and determination kicked in as well.  When the mileage got tougher six weeks out (55 to 60 miles per week), I questioned my sanity but kept pushing forward.  I finally made it to the taper two weeks ago and with the decreased mileage, I now have my energy back and the confidence that I can go the distance on April 16.

This is my 15th marathon and I can rely on my experience to either help me or hinder me on race day.  On the positive side, I know what to expect.  On the negative side, I know what to expect.  Anything can happen during a 26 mile run.  Much depends on your level of confidence and the effort you gave to your training.  If you did the training, the marathon will take care of itself (assuming you don’t go out too fast).

From my previous experience of hitting “the wall” so many times (that elusive barrier which can crop up anywhere from 18 to 24 miles when your body will run no further), I know to pace myself at the start of the marathon.  I also know to not be a slave to my GPS, I need to run how I feel—I have always run stronger that way.  I have also learned that running fast is not as important as running strong.

Boston is an exciting city at marathon time and the energy is electric.  Since this is my second time I know how to negotiate the excellent train system and to go to the north end for a great pasta dinner.  The crowds lining the course will be enthusiastic and supportive and, once past Heartbreak Hill (right past mile 20), the course is mostly downhill to the finish.  It’s a challenging course, but I ran a personal record when I ran it the first time in April 2009—at the age of 54.  A great memory, but I will not pressure myself.  I will do the best I can.

I can see the finish line and I can see the big smile on my face when I pass it—strong.  Boston—here I come!

 

Yea, I finally made it to the taper before the marathon!  It’s downhill from here—my weekly long runs and mileage will significantly decrease.  I completed the training miles and I know I am physically and mentally ready to run the distance strong on April 16.  I must admit, there was a short time, that I didn’t know if I could do it.

When I ran my first 20 mile run three weeks ago, I felt strong and my weekly mileage was up to 58 but I had been slowly building my long run and weekly mileage so I had been running over 50 miles a week for the last six weeks.  But something snapped in my head.  I got really tired and felt generally fatigued the following week when I ran a 22 mile run and logged my highest mileage of 60 miles.  I had a tough time motivating myself to complete the miles last week but drug myself out to run my last 20 mile run on Saturday and logged 58 miles.   Why am I running manic miles?  It’s Boston!

But, as I recall, in my previous marathon training efforts, I also reached a “breaking point.”  It’s this point that truly defines a marathon runner.  It would have been easy to justify a decrease in mileage and rest—after all the decrease wouldn’t really impact performance just three weeks away.

But, the marathon is more of a mental challenge than a physical one.  I know when I am heading into the final six miles in Boston, that I will rise to the challenge because I rose to the challenge in training.  I am mentally tough.

Kudos to anyone who has trained for a marathon and experienced the highs and lows of running long distance.  If you do the training, the marathon will take care of itself.  Crossing that finish line is a high you will never forget!

With the Boston Marathon now only five weeks away, the training is crucial—more mental than physical.  I know, as a veteran marathoner who has hit the wall more times than I’d like to admit, what training my body and my mind needs to go the distance and remain strong to the end.  Since this is my retirement marathon, of course I want to end with a bang.  (I know, I know—I’ve made that retirement statement before.)

This last weekend I ran my first 20 miler on Saturday and followed it up with a 12 miler on Sunday.  No, I actually didn’t hit the wall this weekend.  I ran two strong runs.  What a confidence builder!  If I can get through that, I can certainly get through a little marathon…right?

Gutting through that first 20 miler is always tough.  It doesn’t  matter that I’ve run several 20 milers in the past.   My brain told me that 20 miles was a really long way!   But I set the intention to make it through Saturday—a success.

Standing at the start of a 12 mile run the next day was the hardest part.  Yes, just getting started was a big deal.  My mind tried hard to convince me that I couldn’t do it—it was crazy—it was too long—I must be insane.  But I convinced myself that I would just go easy and take it one mile at a time.  After all, I knew I was trained to run the distance.  Look at what ultra-marathoners run—a whole lot more than 32 miles in two days.  Once I got started and worked out all those kinks, I made it all the way to the end—another success.

Now I have a week to mentally prepare for the longest run I will do in one day—a 22 miler on Saturday.  I will dutifully follow it up with a 12 mile run on Sunday—so much to look forward to.

So what is my goal when I’m on the starting line on April 16th?  I will detach myself from the outcome and strive to run strong to the end—and I intend to have fun and enjoy the experience of Boston.  I was blessed to run a personal record last May in Lincoln, NB at the age of 56—yes, it’s possible to break barriers well past what is considered middle age in our society.  Will it happen again?  Maybe…maybe not.  The success is completing the training…is it not?  I’ll keeping running forward.

I had a really crappy run on Sunday.  I’m at that point in my marathon training that I am questioning my sanity.  I did a 19 mile run last Saturday followed by a 12 mile run on Sunday.  I logged a 53 mile week not including doing a day of weights and a day of yoga.  I guess it’s okay to have a really crappy run.

When I shut the door of my car and stood there looking over the beginning of the course last Saturday, I was intimidated.  Wow, I was about to start a 19 mile run.  Even though I’ve been through this training process so many times before, it’s like I need to re-train my mind every time.  My experience is working against me.  I know it’s a really LONG way and that I will be running over 3 hours.

I’m sure that’s why I pushed the pace at first, I just wanted to get the first hour over with.  But I felt good and kept the pace going.  I didn’t slow down until the last three miles.  I finished happy with myself and, as always when I’m finished, decided it wasn’t so bad.

But the next morning came and, again, I stood at the beginning of my next long run—12 miles.  I am a firm believer in back-to-back long runs.  It is a great way to condition your body to run longer than marathon distance with a short rest in between.  Well, I stood there feeling reasonably energetic and thinking—it’s ONLY 12 miles.

I pushed off and started my Garmin.  I felt great and was running a brisk pace until I hit the wall…at mile five.  Yes, it made sense.  If you add the 19 from the day before, I hit the wall at mile 24.  I had nothing left.  My pace slowed to a crawl and I wished I had Advil with me, but I didn’t.   I set a goal to get through two miles at a time running and then take a short walk break.  Maybe I should have had pasta the night before.  Maybe I should have not pushed the pace so hard the day before.  Maybe I should have taken that nap I didn’t have time for.  It no longer mattered.  I was done.  I completed the course and was able to log 31 miles over the weekend.   I know I will be stronger next weekend…

Was it worth it?

I know when I am on the starting line of the Boston Marathon on April 16, that I will be very, very happy I ran the miles.  Not only will my body be in condition to run the distance strong, but my mind will believe I can go the distance.

Isn’t it amazing that how we perceive someone or an event totally changes our experience of it?  When you wake up on the first day of vacation, the world seems brighter and more fun than waking up on Monday morning, a work day, especially if you are to do something you don’t like that day.  It’s hard to believe that just changing your thought, will change your life—but it’s true.

Take me, for example.  I yearned and stressed for years about running a marathon fast enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon.  What were my basic thoughts?  They were, “I want to qualify for Boston” and “I don’t really think I’m good enough—so I will try harder.”  My life experience was wanting and not being good enough.   The vibes I sent out into the world were the low vibrations of anger.  The results were running eight marathons in 10 years and not qualifying for Boston .

It wasn’t until I made peace with myself and let the “wanting” go and relaxed that my good came to me.   My basic thoughts became, “I am okay with who I am” and “I run for fun.”  Since then, I have been able to qualify for Boston three times and ran the fastest marathon of my life last May at the age of 56.  The vibes I sent out into the world were the high vibrations of appreciation and gratitude.

This is a universal law, called the law of attraction, in action.  Two great books on this subject are The Secret  by Rhonda Bryne and Ask and It Is Given by Esther and Jerry Hicks.  It’s hard to argue with the results surrounding my running.  But what about my career?  Does the law of attraction work there?  Tune in for Part 2.

Training log

My long run is now 18 miles followed by an 11 mile run.  I did not do my long run this Saturday since I am running the LA Chinatown Firecracker 10k on Sunday.   This is a rest weekend before my final push to the marathon.

 

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