One month later...

“Connected”. It’s a word that, today, often has the negative connotation of being attached to electronics 24/7, never shutting our phones off, never having a moment’s peace away from a screen. But “connected” is how I feel after having run the 2014 Boston Marathon on the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge Team. To be “connected” to other human beings, to a community, to something bigger than ourselves, is what we all long for. It is why we were all kinder to one another after 9/11, why we declared “United we stand.” It is why people from all over America cried on April 15, 2013, and why “Boston Strong” resonates with so many. That desire for connection is part of what makes us human - it is why people go to church, join book clubs, or yes, even spend time on Facebook. When we are connected to other people, we know that in some way, we matter. If we can affect someone’s life, if we can contribute something, however small, to someone else’s well-being, we have made our world a better place.

Sometimes connection is something we seek out, and sometimes it is something that just happens. When I initially thought of joining a charity team, it was for selfish reasons: I was looking for a way to be able to run a race I would not otherwise qualify to run. Because I had grown up in awe of the ordinary people who ran the race, because I once thought it was something I could never do, I wanted to run the Boston Marathon. So in the beginning, joining a charity team was, admittedly, a means to an end. However, as I looked at the various options for charity teams, I realized that I wanted to do something that would have a significant impact. I've never attempted fundraising before, and I knew that, to be successful, it would have to be something I truly believed in and felt passionate about. Although many of the charity teams participating in the Boston Marathon raise public awareness of little known health issues such as liver disease, I needed to do more than make people aware. I wanted to be able to change someone’s life. Although helping homeless animals and orphaned children has always been the focus of my charitable efforts in the past, having lost three friends to cancer in the past several years, and watching several other friends go through surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation treatment for cancer treatment, I was struck when I read about the work done at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. As I read more about the Claudia Adams Barr Program for Innovative Cancer Research, and the unique approaches to cancer treatment that have resulted from funding investigators through the Barr Program, I knew that I’d found the team with whom I wanted to run. Although it was too late to help my friends Dana, Rich and Verna, I thought I might be able to impact the lives of future cancer patients, and in doing so, honor the memories of my friends. I didn't realize that joining the Dana-Farber Team and running the Boston Marathon would give me a sense of community that had been lacking in my life for several years, and connect me to thousands of people in an unexpectedly intimate way.

One of the most amazing aspects about the Boston Marathon, which makes it unique among Marathons, is the crowd support. It’s not just a few thousand people scattered along the course, most there to cheer on a specific runner they know. It feels like entire towns are there to celebrate the achievement that running 26.2 miles represents, generations of families coming out to connect with the runners and with each other, continuing a tradition that has existed for over a century. This year, of course, it was an even bigger crowd than usual, and we had an even bigger reason to feel connected to each other. When the bombs exploded on April 15, 2013, hundreds of lives were forever changed. The terrorists succeeded in stopping the race that day, but this year, as a resounding retort, the race included one of the biggest fields of runners in its 118-year history, and there were estimated to be a million spectators. The people of Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham, Natick, Wellesley, Newton, Brookline and Boston emphatically stated, “You are not taking this away from us. This is our day. This is Patriots’ Day. This is our finish line.” I am still so proud to have been a part of it.

Race report - summing up the Boston Marathon

After the Dana-Farber Pasta Party on Sunday evening, we walked from the Marriott over to Comm. Ave., then caught a cab back to Cambridge and headed to bed early.

Neither one of us slept very well, and we both woke up several times during the night to check the clock. Finally, at 3:55, we woke up and stayed up. We got dressed, I did a sinus rinse (having been hit with a fun sinus infection on Sunday morning!) and made a cup of tea. I had been debating taking a cab over to the Common, as I wasn’t sure if the first hotel shuttle at 5:00 would get me there in time for the 5:15 DFMC bus. We got downstairs about 4:50, and I asked the driver of the shuttle, who said we’d make it. He explained that there would be a big bus over by the mail boxes to pick us all up. However, by 4:58 when there was no bus yet, he said “Come on, we’re going to Boston!” and he let me and a few other runners on the shuttle. He told us his manager had said to have us wait for the other buses, but he wanted to help so he took us himself! He is one of the heroes of the day, in my book!

We ran into traffic (already!) on the way to the Common, but I walked quickly over to the BAA buses designated for the Dana-Farber Team, and got on with no problem. I remembered how I had felt dropping Edward off in the dark a couple of years previously, saying goodbye at the gate that said “Runners Only” – so proud that he was running, but sad that I wasn’t going with him. And now here I was, on my way to run the Boston Marathon. As excited as I was, I was still able to sleep most of the way to Hopkinton. Once we arrived at the Church, we filed in and got checked in with the volunteers. I used the restroom, then got some green tea and donut holes and found a seat on a little elevated stage in the big room. I spoke with a woman named Perry from Minneapolis, who mentioned that this would be her 2^nd Boston Marathon, her first having been in 2012 with a different charity (with only 12 team members!). I went to Mass at the chapel there, but did not feel anything like what I had hoped to at the large Blessing of the Athletes at the Old South Church that we had missed the day before. 

I caught up with Lynda (my team mate from Southern California), and we went outside for the DFMC team photo. The team, about 700 members, was immense! (You can see me in the photo below thanks to a red arrow I added in Photoshop!) Lynda and I were both happy to be in the Pacesetter group, composed of team members who had raised at least $8000. Both of us had set out to raise about $10,000, and neither of us was sure we'd be able to do it, so we were thrilled to have both achieved our goals.

 
After the team photos, we went back inside. I used the restroom a couple more times, read some of the New York Times, had some Twizzlers and animal crackers, and before I knew it, it was time to go to the start. I lined up to get Jack Fultz’s autograph on my singlet, used the portapotties one last time, shed my pants and sweatshirts and put them in the donation box, and walked over to the Corrals. The excitement was palpable as we waited for the official Wave 3 start.

Wave 3 start

Corral 9 was made up of mostly DFMC team members, and I chatted with a few of them as we waited. It was much warmer than I had anticipated, and I was pretty comfortable in my shorts, singlet, arm warmers and gloves. I knew that was not a good sign for later! I decided to take my gloves off but leave my armwarmers on. There were clothing collection bags hanging on the sides of the corrals, so I threw my gloves in one. 

Finally it was 11:00am. As the last corral, it took us a few minutes to walk to the starting line, and even during the walk there were people on the sidelines wishing us luck. I remember hearing the theme from "Rocky" as we walked & jogged up to the start. As I crossed the start line, I thought “This is it! I am actually running the Boston Marathon!” I thought about my honorees, especially Dana and Rich, and hoped I would honor them by being tough. The whole first few miles is downhill, and I controlled my speed to a 10:00 pace, knowing it would pay off later. There were people lining the streets the whole time. As I passed each town marker, I was thankful for all of the supporters, and amazed by the history of the race. For 118 years, people have run this route. Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham…the first 4 miles seemed to pass so quickly! 

running through Natick

I remember hearing "Born To Run" from a sound system on the side of the road; I high-fived as many kids as I could (almost knocking over an older woman behind me in the process the first time - oops!). I decided not to speed up, and maintained about a 10:00 pace as I could feel it getting warmer. I took water at almost every water stop, walking just long enough to drink; took Gatorade at Mile 5 and my first Gu at Mile 6, as planned. At mile 7 in Framingham, there's a shop with the windows acting as mirrors and a sign that says "Check Your Style!". I teared up a few times in those first 6-7 miles, thinking about my honorees, thinking about last year, thinking of the people of Boston and their resilience. Passing the sign for Natick and running through the town common (around mile 10), there were so many people cheering! So many spectators thanked us for coming back, thanked us for running. I high-fived a ton of little kids along the way, smiled almost the whole time as I made eye contact with various spectators, and said “Thank You” as people cheered me, either by name or by “Dana Farber”. Somewhere along the route, someone was playing Run DMC and I sang along to "Tricky" as I ran. There were people handing out Twizzlers, oranges, Skittles, cups of lemonade. I took a couple of Twizzlers, and later an orange. It was warm, and I started pouring water on my head every couple of miles. I had left my armwarmers on, planning to take them off just before the hills to give myself a little more comfort up the hills. I was happy that I hadn’t tried to speed up, as I started feeling just a little tired as I took my 2^nd Gu at Mile 12.

Just after Mile 12, the Wellesley girls gave me energy, as I high-fived almost all of them, reading their “Kiss me, I’m…” signs. I stopped to hug & kiss a girl whose sign said “Kiss me, I’m a Hoosier!” and another, towards the end, whose sign said “Kiss me, I speak Chinese!” So I hugged her and said “Wo Ai Ni!” ("I love you!") and she replied the same.  I didn't see more than a few Dana-Farber cheerers at Mile 13, but I was happy to cross the half-marathon mark. I was all smiles as we passed miles 14-16, then a little nervous as we entered Newton, with its impending hills. I took in the sight of its stately homes set back from the road and prepared myself for the uphill. At mile 17, I took off my armwarmers and put my head down, and although my quads were feeling tight, the hills were over before I knew it, even Heartbreak Hill! I hadn’t had to walk any of them. I was thrilled as I passed spectators holding signs that said “You’ve just finished Heartbreak Hill!” My paces had slowed to about 10:30, but I was happy with that. What I didn’t realize was that the downhills for the remainder of the race would kill me! 

My right calf started cramping up at Mile 22, and I had to walk for a couple of minutes. I was looking for Laura, one of my supporters who lives in Mass and who was going to be in Brookline, but the BC crowds were thick and loud (and awesome!) and I didn't see her. There were quite a few times that one of the spectators saw me grimace and start walking and said “Milinda, you can do it!” It helped get me going again. Once I realized that I wasn’t going to see Laura, I focused on mile 25, where I knew Mom and the girls would be. It was a tough few miles, with almost constant cramping in my calf, but I knew if I stopped I might never be able to start again, so even when I walked, I walked fast and with purpose. The Citgo Sign seemed so far away when I first saw it.

A DFMC runner approaches Mile 25 (photo copyright DFMC 2014)

As I approached the Turnpike Overpass, jogging again, all I could think about was seeing my Mom and the girls. Beginning to cross the overpass, I looked left and right - I was sad not to see the sea of green Dana Farber shirts I expected; I heard a few Dana-Farber cheers, but it was not nearly the boost I needed, and I didn’t see my Mom anywhere! I was disappointed. I kept going, hoping they’d be up ahead, and a few minutes later, I heard Barry’s voice calling for me. I turned to the right, saw his bright yellow shirt, then made a U-turn to run over for hugs! I said “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” and gave her a big, tearful hug, then hugged and kissed each of my girls and Rose, and said “I gotta go!” 

Runners approach the finish line (DFMC 2014 photo)

I vowed not to walk again until the finish, and continued down Comm. Ave, my calf killing me as I made the tiny uphill towards Hereford. When I turned onto Hereford, I felt triumphant. But after the left turn onto Boylston, the Finish Line seemed so far away! I put my head down and continued running as best I could, listening to the huge crowds cheering all of us, but I was no longer able to say “Thank You" or even give a thumbs up, I just kept watching that finish line getting closer inch by inch. I found some strength to give a tiny kick before the finish, and crossed in just under 4:28, so I was thrilled.

When my calf had been cramping terribly, I thought I might collapse to the ground, but after crossing the finish line I didn’t collapse, I didn’t cry, I just wanted water. I got some water, received my medal and my cape (even though it was quite warm outside!), and looked for the Dana-Farber volunteers to lead me back to the Marriott. They were nowhere to be seen, so I continued walking to get some food (even though I was not remotely hungry). I did pick up what was touted as “chocolate milk” and what was actually a Gatorade Protein shake (not the same thing!!) and just started walking towards where I thought Copley was. 

Finally I found another Dana-Farber teammate, and we walked together until we came upon some volunteers, who took us to the Marriott in what seemed like a really long walk!! Once at the Marriott, I thought about trying to see family first, but really wanted to get the salt off my body and get my legs massaged, so I went to the DFMC runner recovery area, where I picked up my clothes, did a body wipe-down and changed, then got a fabulous massage which helped the calf cramps immensely.  Finally I made my way upstairs, bypassing the soup and sandwiches set out for runners. When I walked into the family area, I didn’t see anyone I knew, but then Edward and Barry stood up in the back of the room and waved their arms, as I walked over, they all stood up and cheered, and I started crying. I hugged my Mom, my girls, Rose, and finally Edward. I was sad not to have seen him at Mile 25, and knew his race must not have been a great one time-wise, but hoped he’d enjoyed the experience, which he told me he had. We sat at the big round table there for a few minutes, talking about the amazing day, and then Edward and the girls and I got a photo by the DFMC photographer before we headed out.

Edward went back to Cambridge to get our car, and I walked to the T with the rest of the large group. The Orange Line security let me on the T at no charge. :-) We had hoped to take the Orange Line to Downtown Crossing, where we’d change to the Red Line and then catch a commuter train to Holbrook at South Station. The T trains were packed but running frequently. It looked like we were going to make it, but when we got up to South Station, we learned that the schedule we were going on was old and the next Holbrook-bound train wasn’t for an hour. So, we went back to the Red Line and fortunately did not have to wait long for another Braintree train. Shortly after our arrival at Quincy Adams, a bus arrived to take us to the Holbrook train station, where everyone had parked. It was a long bus ride, and Edward managed to walk back to Cambridge and drive to Holbrook about 20 minutes faster than it took us to get to Holbrook, but we were all happy to congregate at Meme’s. Sadly, we had to return to our hotel to catch this morning's early flight home to California.

On the plane right now. We are all exhausted. But it has been an amazing experience – one that will never be duplicated, even if I ever do run Boston again. The crowds, the will to “Take Back the City” and take back the joy of the race after last year’s tragedy, the experience of connecting to people through fundraising for Dana-Farber – it has all been incredible.

Welcome to Boston!

The weather was perfect in the city today. We started the day on the Boston Common, where the BAA 5K started. It was a gorgeous day and I had a great time running with my stepdad.

We checked into our hotel in Cambridge and walked across the Charles River - the beautiful daffodils reminded me of my friend Dana, in whose honor I am running, and who used to volunteer as a Daffodil Days Coordinator for the American Cancer Society.

We went to the Expo to pick up my race bib. I was super excited!

After the Expo we had Thai food for dinner, then caught a cab back to the hotel. Tomorrow I will check in with the Dana-Farber team and then we'll lay low for most of the day until the Dana-Farber Pasta Party in the late afternoon. On Monday morning I have to catch a 5:15am bus so I'd better start getting used to an earlier bedtime! Will write more tomorrow!

Last long run before the big day

I was very pensive on today's long run, for a few reasons: First, because it is my last long run before the Marathon; second, because it was a beautiful, blue-sky day with a light breeze and almost no one else on the road; and finally, because it will be my last long run starting at our current home and extending through China Camp State Park. One of my favorite things about living where we do in San Rafael is its proximity to this beautiful State Park, with rolling hills, gorgeous greenery and breathtaking water views. It is just a little over 12 miles round trip from our house to the park, through the park to the entrance on the opposite side. Not only have we enjoyed running here, it is also where we've had several birthday celebrations and numerous hikes, picnics and beach days. I am really going to miss it. Not that we'll be terribly far away, it will only be about 15-20 minutes' drive from our new home, but it just won't be the same as being able to run right from my front door to this spectacular park.

I was pretty happy with my splits on this run, especially given that it was sunny and on the warm side. I am hoping I can hit similar paces in Boston, but will start out more conservatively (i.e. slowly!) to save energy for those dreaded hills at miles 17-21!

The thought of the race has got me really excited now, although I know I'm going to be a bit of a mess. Thinking about my honorees and those of my donors, remembering those injured and killed last year, knowing that it may also be my mom's last year living near Boston: it's quite emotionally charged. I can hardly talk about it without tearing up.

10 days to go!

Last Sunday's training run was at Lake Merced. I've been missing out on the races for our running club, DSE Runners, because the races are at 9am on Sundays and I've been getting up early to start my long runs by about 6:30 or 7am. Both times I ran through Crissy Field and to the Embarcadero, DSE volunteers have been setting up for the races - I was tempted to alter my plans to include the races, but stuck with the route I had pre-determined for the 18- and 20-mile runs.

But this Sunday, since I've been fighting off a cold, I decided to sleep in a bit and to incorporate the DSE Lake Merced 4.5 mile race into my training run. I arrived at the Lake a little after 8am in order to do a loop before the race, then sped up just a little for the race itself, and finished with another loop and a half, for a total of 15 miles.

On the fundraising front, I sent out a letter to many of my veterinary colleagues a few weeks back, and I have been overwhelmed by their generous responses. I was able to mail 7 checks totaling $1475 to Dana-Farber earlier this week. It is wonderful to see people coming together to stand up for something worthy. I feel so privileged to be part of the Dana-Farber team and to witness the kindness of people's hearts first hand.

For those of you who live near Boston, Sports Illustrated will be shooting their cover photograph there this Saturday (April 12) at 7:00am and they are inviting people to be a part of it:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/magazine/news/20140409/sports-illustrated-boston-marathon-finish-line-photo-shoot/

Go there if you can!!

4 weeks and 1 day to go!

Sundays in March are long run days: 15.4 miles on March 2nd, 17.6 miles on March 9th, 15 miles last Sunday and 20 miles today. Although my long runs have been a fair bit slower than those I did in preparation for the Chicago Marathon in 2012, I have been incorporating more hills. Today's 20-miler was quite challenging, from Mill Valley to Sausalito, up to and across the Golden Gate Bridge, down to Crissy Field and back, involving a cumulative elevation gain of 1,450 feet.

Although it's a bit discouraging for me to see an average pace of 10:28 today, when I had run 21 miles at an average 9:27 pace in September 2012 (3 weeks before Chicago), that speedy training pace did not result in a particularly speedy Marathon, and I only bettered my previous marathon finish time by a little over a minute in Chicago. So, hopefully, taking it slower but working the hills will better prepare me for Boston.

I am excited and a little nervous about the race, and also the fundraising part of it all! I've reached just about 70% of my fundraising goal, and will have to send a few more letters out this week. All in all, I feel I'm making good progress, but I have a feeling these last 4 weeks are going to fly by!! I am humbled by all the support and well wishes I have received, and sincerely appreciate every donation and kind word sent my way.

Today's Tribute: Dana Ann Gong

Natalie, Naomi and Dana

Dana Ann Gong

September 11, 1970 - March 2, 2009

Five years ago today, the world lost a beautiful person, inside and out, and the heavens gained a bright new star. 

Dana and I met in 2004 at an adoption agency meeting. Though we didn't know each other at the time, we had both attended UC Davis, where Dana had earned an M.S. in Food Science. When I met her she was a Food Technologist with the National Food Laboratory in Livermore. She and her husband Lester were preparing to adopt a child, and had selected the same agency as we had for our adoptions. We were in the same adoption travel group in 2005, and became good friends. Our girls’ birthdays are just 4 days apart. We both adopted again a couple of years later, and our second daughters are also the same age. 

 

Naomi and Dana, 2008

Sadly, several months after coming home with her second daughter, Naomi, Dana was diagnosed with lymphoma. She was in and out of the hospital through the whole winter holiday season, fighting courageously. But cancer won the battle, and Dana passed away just days before Naomi’s second birthday. The idea of that beautiful baby, who had already lost her birthmother, growing up without the mother who had traveled to the other side of the earth to get her, broke my heart. Even though it has been five years since Dana left us, I think of her frequently. 

I can still see her huge smile and hear her laughing voice. When I was accepted to run for the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge Team, I knew that I wanted to honor Dana's memory. 

Dana and Natalie, 2006

Throughout her life, Dana's giving spirit had led her to volunteer in several different capacities, including selling daffodils each spring for the American Cancer Society as a Daffodil Days Coordinator. When I learned that the Boston Marathon route would be lined with daffodils, my eyes welled up with tears - I know that every time I see those yellow flowers as I'm running, I will be thinking about Dana.

If you knew Dana and would like to leave a remembrance of her, we welcome your Comments below.

Running at altitude

We've been vacationing in Tahoe City, and since one of my good friends and her girls are staying with us, I've been able to get out and run! This morning there was a spectacular sunrise, which I strangely woke up just in time to photograph, and then I went back to bed for an hour! After I woke up for real, I enjoyed a lovely 4-mile run along Lake Tahoe and the Truckee River. Below are some photos of the scenery along the way.

 

Today's Tribute: Xiaoqing Cai

Xiaoqing Cai was born on February 19, 1964 in Chengdu China. She studied at the Foreign Languages Department in Sichuan University, where she majored in English language and literature. After earning B.A and M.A. degrees there, Xiaoqing came to United States as a graduate student in October of 1988 to attend Michigan State University, where she received her second M.A., in American Studies, in the spring of 1990.  

In 1990, after graduating from Michigan State University, she moved to San Rafael, California with Bill Baumeister, whom she had met while in Chengdu waiting for her visa to enter the United States, and got married. Xiaoqing worked as a preschool teacher for six years at the on-site day care of the Lucas Film Company at Skywalker Ranch. After the birth of her daughter in 1994, she began working for Bay Area Adoption Services as the China Program Coordinator to help American families adopting children from China. 

Xiaoqing was diagnosed with first stage breast cancer in May of 2007 and had a mastectomy. The same year in September, she lost her beloved father to lung cancer. Xiaoqing continued working for B.A.A.S. through these hardships, and helped us with our second adoption. She matched our family with a beautiful 18-month-old baby girl  in the summer of 2008.

Receiving the Community Service Award, January 2010

In September of 2008, Bill and Xiaoqing became the guardians of a 6-year-old boy whose adoption was disrupted after the adoptive family brought him to United States from China. Less than 6 months later, in February of 2009, she was diagnosed with local recurrence of breast cancer. Despite the changes to her family life that the addition of a young child entailed, and the difficulties of undergoing chemotherapy and radiation for her recurrent breast cancer, Xiaoqing continued to work tirelessly to join children in China's orphanages with families all over the U.S.  In January 2010, she received the Community Service Award from Families with Children from China - Northern California, in recognition of her amazing work to unite over 900 children (at that time) with their forever families. Later that same year, in October of 2010, Bill and Xiaoqing officially adopted their son Billy Baumeister, who is now almost 12 years old. 

Nearly 5 years after her chemotherapy and radiation treatment, Xiaoqing is celebrating her 50th birthday today.

Xiaoqing states, "I consider myself extremely lucky to have a loving family, many supportive friends and a job that brings me much joy and satisfaction. I have been working as an adoption coordinator for almost twenty years and have helped the adoption of over a thousand orphaned children from China into loving homes."

With her calm demeanor, kind eyes and ready smile, Xiaoqing is loved by all who know her. She has changed the lives of over 1000 of China's orphans and, by doing so, has a special place in the hearts of every one of the families she has helped create. Our family is deeply indebted to her, and we are honored to call her our friend. We celebrate her half-century of life today, and wish her many more decades of health and happiness.   祝您健康长寿！

10 weeks to go and over half-way to my $10,280 fundraising goal!

Ten weeks from today, I will wake before dawn and walk across the Boston Common to board a big yellow school bus for the hour-long ride to Hopkinton. I have kissed my husband goodbye on the Common twice before, and this time we will get to ride that bus together. After our arrival in Hopkinton, we will try to stay warm as we wait anxiously for the start. Although I love the design of the 2014 Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team singlet, it will be hard to see the Boston skyline under the honor ribbons that will be pinned to mine. 

It seems that almost every day I meet another person who is fighting the battle of their lives, or who has lost someone dear. It is very humbling to receive donations in honor of so many wonderful people. With my practice's year-end donation of a percentage of proceeds from procedures, my fundraising total is now over $5,200, so I am more than half-way to my $10,280 goal for Dana-Farber. On days when it is cold and rainy, or I am exhausted from a long procedure at work, when I would rather plunk down on the couch and watch TV than train, I think of the people who want to run but can't, and I run. Yesterday, on mile 10 of a 13-mile training run in the rain, I tripped on a patch of uneven pavement and fell down. Thankfully I had on a long-sleeved shirt with thumb-holes, so my palms were protected from the asphalt (so I can still do surgery tomorrow!) but I landed hard on my right hip and shoulder, and for a moment after I got up I thought about calling it a day. I walked a hundred yards or so, towards the Whole Foods market, where I thought I might ask to borrow a phone to call my husband to pick me up. But as I walked, I decided to tough it out, and jogged (albeit more slowly than usual, and with a few walk breaks up the hills) the remaining few miles home. In my head I was singing one of my old favorite songs, "Minutes to Memories" by John Mellencamp, which contains the lines "So suck it up and tough it out, and be the best you can".

I'm pretty sore today, and my hip and shoulder are bruised, but I'm happy for having finished the run, and managed to get in a couple of miles after work today as well. John Mellencamp has written some wise words; another of my favorites is "Between a Laugh and a Tear": "Just try to live each and every precious moment, Don't be discouraged by the future, forget the past. That's old advice but it'll be good to you; I know there's a balance, I see it when I swing past..."

My 13th 13.1-mile race

We've had very little rain here in Northern California for the past couple of months; normally the rainy season starts in November and is in full-swing by January.  With Tahoe's ski resorts dependent upon the snow for their income and those of us at lower altitude dependent upon the rainfall for agriculture, not to mention drinking water and other household uses, our Governor declared a state of Emergency about 2 weeks ago. However, the 4,300+ runners preparing for the Kaiser Permanent San Francisco Half Marathon must have had a "rain dance" effect, because we woke up to wind and wetness this morning! Edward and I were both supposed to run, but he's been battling a bad cold and bronchitis for a couple of weeks so a few days ago I canceled the babysitter and told him he was staying home! Good thing, because the dreary weather would not have been good for his immune system. Back in February 2009, the Kaiser Half was my first half marathon, and I ran it the weekend before we left for China to adopt our second daughter. I've run 11 other half marathons since then, but had not been back to do the Kaiser, so I really wanted to run it this year, despite the rain.

I woke up at 5:45am after a restless night (you know how you wake up every half hour or so, wondering how much time you have left before the alarm goes off? So frustrating!), had a small bowl of hot Grape Nuts, packed some Gu in my capris, and headed into the city. My Prius (not the most aerodynamic automobile) was getting blown around a bit as I drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, but the wind didn't seem as strong once I was at Ocean Beach. I parked there and took one of the school bus shuttles into Golden Gate Park. I was happy to have my sweats and a hooded jacket on, but the sweats check turned out to be about a quarter mile from the starting line, so I ended up freezing anyway. Luckily they did have some plastic bags for people to take, so I wore one of those over my shirt as I walked to the start. A bunch of us huddled under the trees near the start, and I met a couple of girls from Boston, one of whom is running the Marathon for the Alzheimer's Association. Chatting with them helped pass the time, and helped me keep my sense of humor as occasional gusts of wind shook bundles of water from the trees over our heads and set us all shivering.

 














The sky was light by the time the race started, and the park looked beautiful. I wasn't going for a PR, and planned to take it pretty easy (since I got injured after my last half marathon in December!). I enjoyed the verdant surroundings in the park, but it was a shorter jaunt than I had remembered. I guess I forgot that the course went out into the city for quite a while, so that was an interesting change of scenery - the streets were closed for the race, and there weren't many spectators out, but we could see supporters up in windows along Fell Street.

We came back into the park on Stanyan, ran past Kezar Stadium (it's hard to imagine that the 49ers used to play there!), then eventually back onto Kennedy Drive and out to the Great Highway. I'd been running about 9:15-9:20 paces up until then. We had a strong headwind on the way out along Ocean Beach, which made for slow going, but I was happy because I knew that also meant we'd have a nice tailwind for the return! Near mile 7, I saw my friend Peter going in the opposite direction, already past mile 12 - he finished first in his age group with a fabulous 1:22:21. My slowest miles were miles 8 & 9, which I ran at 9:40 and 9:46 (respectively). Shortly after the turnaround near the SF Zoo, as I was enjoying that lovely tailwind, I saw my assistant Bridgit walking her dog Hurley, and this time I got to say "Hey, Bridgit!! Thanks for being out here!" She gave me a big thumbs up, which was a boost to my already happy spirits. I ran the last few miles at about a 9:10 pace, and finished in 2:03:23, with which I was pretty happy considering I was basically treating this like a training run. I saw my colleague again, which was fun, as we waited to get some treats after the finish line. In all it was a good race, a happy 5th anniversary half for me.

One-third of the way there!

I am happy to announce that I am 1/3 of the way to my goal of raising $10,280 for the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge! I am so grateful to everyone who has helped me get this far: Thank you!!

My daughters ran more than 5 kids' races in 2013 with our running club, DSE Runners, so they each received a trophy at this Sunday's race. They were more excited than they look in this photo (taken after they had scootered the Rainbow Falls 5K)!

The Boston Marathon is 12 weeks away. I have been running 6 days a week and am feeling good. This weekend is the Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon in San Francisco. 

It might be raining, but due to the drought I will welcome the rain, even though it might make for an uncomfortable 2 hours of running!

Today's Tribute: Verna Wefald

Verna Wefald

October 5, 1964 - August 30, 2010


 

I met Verna at our neighborhood park, when her daughter Maya was not quite 3 years old and her son Miguel was in 5th grade. Our girls would play together at the park, and we would chat and enjoy the sunshine. What struck me about Verna was her calmness. She always had a relaxed smile, and just emanated a positive vibe that said "everything will be ok".  Even though she appeared quiet, Verna was a force to be reckoned with! She had found out about her breast cancer in 2006, just a few days before giving birth to Maya. She endured her initial cancer treatment, stayed focused on being a great mom to her newborn daughter and her son, and became an advocate for others with cancer. In 2007, she organized a dance fundraiser for the Charlotte Maxwell Clinic, raising $3000 to help provide cancer treatment services to low income women. She climbed Half Dome in Yosemite National Forest three months later with the Bay Area Young Survivors, a group of women who'd been diagnosed with cancer under the age of 45. 

Verna and her husband, Steve (who grew up in CT and ran the Boston Marathon as a college student)

Unfortunately, in September 2009 Verna learned that her cancer had returned. She remained positive, dedicating herself to her family and focusing on beating cancer a second time. When it became clear that the battle could not be won, she spent her last months writing letters to her children, so that on every holiday, birthday, and other life events in their future, they will feel her love and know how proud of them she is. 

Verna died on August 30, 2010, at the age of 45. When I see her children, Maya and Miguel, her eyes and her smile shine through, and I know she lives on in the hearts of those who knew her.

Verna with Miguel, Maya and puppy Gigi

If you knew Verna and would like to leave a remembrance of her, we welcome your Comments below.