Needless to say, the card made me smile. I will keep it close and look at it often in the coming weeks. It means a lot that people so far away are wishing me well in my training. Thanks, everyone!!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Good wishes from Finland
I'm too tired and incoherent to compose a thoughtful post tonight, but I wanted to share this wonderful postcard that arrived from Finland on Thursday. It's from Kirsi and some of her friends. I loved receiving their messages of encouragement. Check out the hand drawn runner (with water bottle) they added to the image on the card!
Needless to say, the card made me smile. I will keep it close and look at it often in the coming weeks. It means a lot that people so far away are wishing me well in my training. Thanks, everyone!!
Needless to say, the card made me smile. I will keep it close and look at it often in the coming weeks. It means a lot that people so far away are wishing me well in my training. Thanks, everyone!!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The fight against cancer is international
This week Kirsi sent me this photo of herself displaying a beautiful painting she made while attending a yoga course a few weeks ago. It's wonderful to see her looking so happy and relaxed after the very tough year she's had. What an inspiration!In the email that accompanied the photo, Kirsi observed that the fight against cancer is truly international. For example, even though she lives in Finland, the drug cocktail Kirsi's doctors used to fight her cancer was developed in Italy.
It's good to be reminded that the funds my sponsors contribute to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society of Canada (almost $5,000 so far) will support medical research that may end up benefitting people not just in Canada but around the world.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The journey so far
TrainingMy husband took this photo as I headed out the door for my run this morning. It's nice to have some visual evidence that the training is beginning to pay off. I'm definitely in better shape than I've been for a year or two. The trick over the remaining weeks will be to train hard enough to continue improving my strength, speed and endurance, without pushing so hard that I injure myself. I wish the line between the two were a bit clearer sometimes.
Mostly, I'm feeling quite good -- energised and excited about the training ahead. However, my right leg and hip have been acting up a bit so it may be time to seek some expert advice. I suspect the discomfort I've been having is the result of a combination of things: a torn right calf muscle (from a childhood accident), worn shoes that need replacing, relatively high mileage, and weak muscles in my hips. Hopefully, with some focussed treatment, exercises and new shoes that offer more support, the hip and leg will begin to feel better soon.
Fundraising
Fundraising is going better than I dared hope when I took this on. With 10 weeks still to go until race day, I am only $1,300 short of reaching my goal of $6,000. The generosity my family, friends and colleagues have shown has been truly wonderful. It's also been wonderful to be sponsored by a number of people who don't know me at all -- but who want to support what I'm doing because they cared about Jon or simply want to contribute to finding a cure for blood cancers. I can't begin to express how moving and motivating it is to know that so many are behind me as I head into the toughest weeks of training.
Of course, I won't stop fundraising until race day -- even if I hit the $6,000 mark before then. I still have a number of friends and colleagues I want to contact in the coming weeks, and I plan to canvas my neighbours, and host a fundraising event in early October just before I head for Chicago. Who knows -- maybe $8,000 or even $10,000 isn't beyond the realm of possibility if things continue to go as well as they have been. Only time will tell.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Gratitude
My long run today was a bit tough so I had to work harder than usual at feeling good about it. Half way through, when I was starting to feel sorry for myself, I decided I'd better make a list of the things I was grateful for instead of dwelling on the things that hurt. Here's what I came up with (in no particular order):
- Being able to run when so many others can't.
- The many caring and generous family, friends and colleagues who have offered financial and emotional support over the past 9 weeks.
- My fabulous husband who offers daily love and encouragement, and ensures that I am always properly fed and watered.
- Beautiful recreational pathways and trails on which to run.
- The unseasonably cool, damp weather which has made marathon training during an Ottawa summer so much easier than I expected.
- New TNT friends and colleagues who share my passion for running and for wanting to make a difference.
- Kirsi and Jon for inspiring me to take on this challenge.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Running Lessons
On my long run last Sunday, I got thinking about all the things running has taught me.
Hard work, determination, and a positive attitude can take you a long way.
I may not have the natural talent and grace of a gazelle, but with practice, good coaching and a positive attitude, I've learned techniques and developed abilities that help me cover the ground more quickly and feel good doing it.
Small problems can become big ones if you don’t deal with them when you should.
I’m constantly amazed at how much trouble a tiny pebble in my shoe or laces that are too tight can cause. If – out of stubbornness or stupidity – I don’t stop to fix the problem quickly enough, I invariably end up with more serious pain or injury somewhere else in my body as it tries to compensate for the changes in my gait.
You’re stronger than you know.
Even after I’d been running for more than a year, I really believed 5km was as far as I’d ever run. Certainly, I never thought I'd be running full and half marathons but, six years later, here I am preparing for my 4th full marathon in Chicago. On days when I feel really strong, I even daydream about running an ultramarathon one day! So it turns out I'm stronger than I knew – a helpful thing to keep in mind when life throws me curves I’m not sure I can handle.
It’s important to be attentive to your body and your thoughts.
I enjoy running with others, but I also like running on my own when it’s easier to tune into what my body and my thoughts are doing. When my mind is repeating negative or discouraging messages, it can be tough to finish a run, so I focus on thinking positive, encouraging thoughts – about my running, my training and my life. I also keep a close eye on what my body’s doing. In the past, I’ve sometimes ignored what it was telling me, and pushed myself to the point of injury or exhaustion. But with time, and experience I’ve come to accept that sometimes what I most need is to stop, rest, reflect and breathe deeply.
There’s beauty around you when you remember to look for it.
On a long run, I can be so busy checking my pace, calculating my distance, keeping an eye on traffic, and dealing with whatever bit of my body is uncomfortable at that moment that I forget to notice the beauty around me – the trees, birds and flowers, the laughter of children, the colour of the sky, the smell of the ocean. It’s the same for the rest of my life. I've gone through whole days not paying attention to anything except my own thoughts and worries. To really see, hear, smell, feel and savour the beauty of the world around me, I have to get out of my head and work at being fully present in my life.
Hard work, determination, and a positive attitude can take you a long way.
I may not have the natural talent and grace of a gazelle, but with practice, good coaching and a positive attitude, I've learned techniques and developed abilities that help me cover the ground more quickly and feel good doing it.
Small problems can become big ones if you don’t deal with them when you should.
I’m constantly amazed at how much trouble a tiny pebble in my shoe or laces that are too tight can cause. If – out of stubbornness or stupidity – I don’t stop to fix the problem quickly enough, I invariably end up with more serious pain or injury somewhere else in my body as it tries to compensate for the changes in my gait.
You’re stronger than you know.
Even after I’d been running for more than a year, I really believed 5km was as far as I’d ever run. Certainly, I never thought I'd be running full and half marathons but, six years later, here I am preparing for my 4th full marathon in Chicago. On days when I feel really strong, I even daydream about running an ultramarathon one day! So it turns out I'm stronger than I knew – a helpful thing to keep in mind when life throws me curves I’m not sure I can handle.
It’s important to be attentive to your body and your thoughts.
I enjoy running with others, but I also like running on my own when it’s easier to tune into what my body and my thoughts are doing. When my mind is repeating negative or discouraging messages, it can be tough to finish a run, so I focus on thinking positive, encouraging thoughts – about my running, my training and my life. I also keep a close eye on what my body’s doing. In the past, I’ve sometimes ignored what it was telling me, and pushed myself to the point of injury or exhaustion. But with time, and experience I’ve come to accept that sometimes what I most need is to stop, rest, reflect and breathe deeply.
There’s beauty around you when you remember to look for it.
On a long run, I can be so busy checking my pace, calculating my distance, keeping an eye on traffic, and dealing with whatever bit of my body is uncomfortable at that moment that I forget to notice the beauty around me – the trees, birds and flowers, the laughter of children, the colour of the sky, the smell of the ocean. It’s the same for the rest of my life. I've gone through whole days not paying attention to anything except my own thoughts and worries. To really see, hear, smell, feel and savour the beauty of the world around me, I have to get out of my head and work at being fully present in my life.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Expectations
This week, I’ve been pondering expectations – my own and others'. I have two main goals for Chicago – to raise a lot of money for cancer research and to run the marathon in a personal best time of 4:45.
It seems I may be on the way to meeting the first goal with contributions from family, friends and colleagues (made and promised) topping $3,000 to date. If all continues to go well, I hope to have raised $6,000 or more before I get on the plane to Chicago in October.
The second goal is the one I’ve been struggling with. A colleague told me recently he wasn’t impressed that I aspired to run Chicago in 4:45 – even though it would be a personal best time for me. He thought I should be aiming for a Boston qualifying time of 4:00. I told him he was dreaming in Technicolor (which he was), but the fact is I would like to run it in 4:30 – almost 24 minutes faster than I’ve ever run a marathon before. In theory, it should be possible since I’ve previously completed half marathons in 2:06 and 2:10. But I set the more modest goal because I was worried about raising unrealistic expectations and disappointing the people who had supported me. After all, as wise man once told me, it’s usually better to “under-promise and over-deliver”.
I now think it’s probably a good thing to come clean about my true aspirations for the race so that people know I am making a serious effort in exchange for their support. But I also want to be sure I don’t lose sight of what’s really important here:
To raise money and awareness.
To honour and celebrate my friends.
To remember all the people I’ve met or heard about who have been touched by blood cancers.
It would be nice to run a personal best, and I’ll be training harder than I ever have in an effort to do that. But in the end, this race really is about more than just running – and I don’t want my own expectations – or those of anyone else – to keep me from focusing on what really matters.
It seems I may be on the way to meeting the first goal with contributions from family, friends and colleagues (made and promised) topping $3,000 to date. If all continues to go well, I hope to have raised $6,000 or more before I get on the plane to Chicago in October.
The second goal is the one I’ve been struggling with. A colleague told me recently he wasn’t impressed that I aspired to run Chicago in 4:45 – even though it would be a personal best time for me. He thought I should be aiming for a Boston qualifying time of 4:00. I told him he was dreaming in Technicolor (which he was), but the fact is I would like to run it in 4:30 – almost 24 minutes faster than I’ve ever run a marathon before. In theory, it should be possible since I’ve previously completed half marathons in 2:06 and 2:10. But I set the more modest goal because I was worried about raising unrealistic expectations and disappointing the people who had supported me. After all, as wise man once told me, it’s usually better to “under-promise and over-deliver”.
I now think it’s probably a good thing to come clean about my true aspirations for the race so that people know I am making a serious effort in exchange for their support. But I also want to be sure I don’t lose sight of what’s really important here:
To raise money and awareness.
To honour and celebrate my friends.
To remember all the people I’ve met or heard about who have been touched by blood cancers.
It would be nice to run a personal best, and I’ll be training harder than I ever have in an effort to do that. But in the end, this race really is about more than just running – and I don’t want my own expectations – or those of anyone else – to keep me from focusing on what really matters.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
My inspiration band
I was thinking about inspiration today as I headed out for my long run. In the past, inspiration for my running has tended to be things like the size of my waistline, the data on my heart rate monitor, or the latest issue of Runner’s World. My training for Chicago is inspired by something completely different – a desire to pay tribute to those whose lives have been touched by blood cancers and to contribute to finding cures for all forms of the disease.
Many marathoners wear a pace band on their wrists when they race. The band sets out the time it will take them to reach every mile marker if they are running at their goal pace. I’m going to wear a different kind of band – an inspiration band – one that lists the names of people I know, or know of, who have been victims of leukemia or lymphoma. My plan is to put 26 names on it – one to provide inspiration for each mile of the race. So far, I’ve collected 9.
Of course, top of the list are Jon and Kirsi. Then comes my TNT teammate, Gill, who is herself a survivor and will be running with me in Chicago. (You can check out her story here.)
This week I learned that one of my work colleagues – a beautiful bright young program analyst – is also a survivor of childhood leukemia. Another colleague confided that his father died of leukemia. So, suddenly, I am running for them as well.
Next, there’s Michael, the young nephew of good friends, who faced death with more grace and courage than most adults; our family friend, Dawn, who died of pneumonia while undergoing leukemia treatments last year; my old friend Leah’s grandfather, who died of leukemia many years ago; and beautiful Maeve, the daughter of a law school classmate, who died of the disease 10 years ago.
No matter how tough the next few months of training or the marathon itself turns out to be, I know my inspiration band will help me get through it. If there are names you’d like to add to my band, please email me or leave a comment here.
Many marathoners wear a pace band on their wrists when they race. The band sets out the time it will take them to reach every mile marker if they are running at their goal pace. I’m going to wear a different kind of band – an inspiration band – one that lists the names of people I know, or know of, who have been victims of leukemia or lymphoma. My plan is to put 26 names on it – one to provide inspiration for each mile of the race. So far, I’ve collected 9.
Of course, top of the list are Jon and Kirsi. Then comes my TNT teammate, Gill, who is herself a survivor and will be running with me in Chicago. (You can check out her story here.)
This week I learned that one of my work colleagues – a beautiful bright young program analyst – is also a survivor of childhood leukemia. Another colleague confided that his father died of leukemia. So, suddenly, I am running for them as well.
Next, there’s Michael, the young nephew of good friends, who faced death with more grace and courage than most adults; our family friend, Dawn, who died of pneumonia while undergoing leukemia treatments last year; my old friend Leah’s grandfather, who died of leukemia many years ago; and beautiful Maeve, the daughter of a law school classmate, who died of the disease 10 years ago.
No matter how tough the next few months of training or the marathon itself turns out to be, I know my inspiration band will help me get through it. If there are names you’d like to add to my band, please email me or leave a comment here.
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