...and my spit. I totally forgot about the spitting. I remember my dad warned me about it when I first started training for Wilmington. I guess my many months of hiatus made me forget how frequently I needed to spit while running.
The first time I ran on my new treadmill (did I mention that I needed it?) I was thinking about how much I wanted to spit. I also thought about how my dad was such a great mentor while I was training before. When I was traveling for work we would speak on the phone nearly every night and talk about running. He would give me pointers, ask me about my run and how far I had gone. He was always positive and encouraging. It got to the point that when I called and my mom would answer she would just hand the phone to my dad without talking to me at all. I barely spoke to my mom during this time. I honestly think that if it weren't for him I wouldn't have crossed the finish line in Delaware. I worry that I don't have my mentor to motivate and inspire me anymore.
My brother had told me that he often feels my dad's presence when he is running. He said it is an amazing feeling. This morning while I was doing a short run I thought about the things we would talk about if we were still having our daily chats. He'd ask me how I like my treadmill. We'd talk about the fancy programs it has and he would be impressed that I could program the Nashville marathon course and the treadmill would adjust the incline to reflect the actual elevation. I would make a joke about Mark's shoes and he would tell me to lay off. He may even say how he was thinking about getting a pair himself. I would mention how Linus seems to like to fall asleep to the sound of the treadmill in the other room and he would laugh and say that Linus is a good influence on me. As I ran and had my imaginary conversation with my dad I felt him. I told him I missed him and began to cry. It is not easy crying and running on a treadmill, which is not forgiving of sudden changes of speed.
After I recovered from my grief while managing not to fall off the back of the treadmill the song changed on my iPod. As I listened to the words I increased my speed and fell into a wonderful rhythm. It reminded me why I run. It inspired me to keep going. It opened my lungs and put a smile on my face. Again I felt my dad. He was lifting me up and inspiring me.
I miss him. I run for him.
"Run fast for your mother run fast for your father
Run for your children for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive...
The dog days are over"
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Gear
When it comes to marathoning there really is little gear that you actually need. You need shoes and vaseline. And even the shoes are debatable. There is a barefoot sports movement going on right now, so some people would say you can run a marathon barefoot. I would not be one of those people. And then there are the counterfeit barefoot athletes. I've started calling them the Five Finger Fools*. My brother has been trying to convince me that the five finger shoes are the way to go. Apparently they simulate running barefoot, but while wearing a shoe. Yes, you are immitating being barefoot by wearing shoes. It really is as ridiculous as it sounds. And if you think is sounds ridiculous take a look at the shoes.
My position on running gear is not to buy anything I would be embarrassed to wear into the grocery store. Sorry Mark I will be sticking to my Nike's.
I bought my Nike's midway through training for Wilmington because my Mizunos were making my toes go numb and giving my crazy blisters. I must admit that I was swayed more by the color scheme than the fit. I honestly feel that there are not nearly enough situations where a woman my age can wear pink without appearing juvenille or prissy. So I went with the subtly pink trimmed shoes. My dad really liked my pink shoes when I showed them off to him. And lucky for me they were pretty awesome running shoes.
I figured since I found my true love shoes that I would have it easy buying new ones. No more heading over to the running store to walk in front of the sales associates while they tried to figure out which kinds of shoes to put me in. Then trying on six pairs that are almost exactly the same. I knew that I love my Nike's and I decided that is what I would stick with until I can't run anymore.
This plan was not fullproof. As a novice I was unaware that shoe manufacturer's came out with new models of their shoes every year. Seriously. Every year. After reading some reviews I found a few runners say that the fit was the same for my model and this year's model. But most suggested to buy multiple pairs of your true love shoes. I guess I missed that tid-bit of advice before. I decided to take the plunge and buy online. I must admit my decision to do this was again swayed by the color scheme. I couldn't help myself, the color is called Voltage Cherry. As soon as I saw the photo I was fantisizing about running while wearing these and coordinating outfits. Was I really supposed to resist getting these beautiful shoes?
Yeah...they are pretty rad.
So now that I have my shoes and my vaseline I should be set per my own statement that you don't need anything else to be a marathoner. Well...I'm not quite as self-sufficient as I used to be.
I love being a mom. It is the most challenging and rewarding thing I've ever done in my life. It has definitely changed the game for me and my training. So I've decided to procure some gear to make being a mommy marathoner possible.
The treadmill. I've always prefered to run in the elements with the exception of snow. The cool air or rain on my face can be invigorating during a long sweaty run. Running outdoors is far more visually stimulating than staring at a wall while running on a treadmill. If given the choice I'd probably prefer a nice run through Franklin Park than a hamster wheel. However, I am not very excited about taking my baby out in a stroller in the rain, wind, and subzero temperatures. I'm sure Linus would be a trooper for 4,5 or 6 miles. But we are talking about training for a marathon here. I need a treadmill.
At least this is the rationalization I made when finally deciding to take the plunge.
*Just to clarify...I do not think Mark is a fool. But his shoes are seriously nerdy!
My position on running gear is not to buy anything I would be embarrassed to wear into the grocery store. Sorry Mark I will be sticking to my Nike's.
I bought my Nike's midway through training for Wilmington because my Mizunos were making my toes go numb and giving my crazy blisters. I must admit that I was swayed more by the color scheme than the fit. I honestly feel that there are not nearly enough situations where a woman my age can wear pink without appearing juvenille or prissy. So I went with the subtly pink trimmed shoes. My dad really liked my pink shoes when I showed them off to him. And lucky for me they were pretty awesome running shoes.
I figured since I found my true love shoes that I would have it easy buying new ones. No more heading over to the running store to walk in front of the sales associates while they tried to figure out which kinds of shoes to put me in. Then trying on six pairs that are almost exactly the same. I knew that I love my Nike's and I decided that is what I would stick with until I can't run anymore.
This plan was not fullproof. As a novice I was unaware that shoe manufacturer's came out with new models of their shoes every year. Seriously. Every year. After reading some reviews I found a few runners say that the fit was the same for my model and this year's model. But most suggested to buy multiple pairs of your true love shoes. I guess I missed that tid-bit of advice before. I decided to take the plunge and buy online. I must admit my decision to do this was again swayed by the color scheme. I couldn't help myself, the color is called Voltage Cherry. As soon as I saw the photo I was fantisizing about running while wearing these and coordinating outfits. Was I really supposed to resist getting these beautiful shoes?
Yeah...they are pretty rad.
So now that I have my shoes and my vaseline I should be set per my own statement that you don't need anything else to be a marathoner. Well...I'm not quite as self-sufficient as I used to be.
I love being a mom. It is the most challenging and rewarding thing I've ever done in my life. It has definitely changed the game for me and my training. So I've decided to procure some gear to make being a mommy marathoner possible.
The treadmill. I've always prefered to run in the elements with the exception of snow. The cool air or rain on my face can be invigorating during a long sweaty run. Running outdoors is far more visually stimulating than staring at a wall while running on a treadmill. If given the choice I'd probably prefer a nice run through Franklin Park than a hamster wheel. However, I am not very excited about taking my baby out in a stroller in the rain, wind, and subzero temperatures. I'm sure Linus would be a trooper for 4,5 or 6 miles. But we are talking about training for a marathon here. I need a treadmill.
At least this is the rationalization I made when finally deciding to take the plunge.
*Just to clarify...I do not think Mark is a fool. But his shoes are seriously nerdy!
Friday, November 25, 2011
I run...
...for my dad, in his memory, for myself, for my son.
The hiatus is over. I had every intention to run on October 17th, 2010 in the Columbus marathon, but then a miracle happened. I found out I was pregnant with my son Linus. What a surprise! A happy surprise! Since it was my first baby I was very skeptical about training or any strenuous activity. Unfortunately, I stopped running all together and got fat. Really fat. But the little kicks inside of me made me not care how fat I was getting. Now that Linus is nine months old I care. Back to square one. Maybe even square minus two.
Being fat is actually very insignificant considering the other events that have transpired over the last year and a half.
In August of last year I got a call from my parents. I was leaving an ultrasound and Sam and I were in a particularly good mood. My mom spoke slowly, telling me that my dad had a lump under his arm that the doctor wanted to biopsy. She handed the phone to my dad and he told me that he was planning on waiting until after his double (marathon in NH on Saturday and ME on Sunday) the following weekend to have the procedure done. As is typical for our family, everyone had their opinion about this decision. We cried and yelled at each other in the Weber tradition. Ultimately, my dad stood by his decision. He had trained to do the double and he didn't want to miss it. I'm glad he didn't, it was his last race.
The biopsy eventually revealed that my dad had cancer. Melanoma, an extremely deadly form of skin cancer. He underwent several surgeries throughout October and November. I have always been aware of how wonderful my father was, but during this time I started to realize the impact that he had on others. The people in his life were so supportive and caring toward our family. Even members of the Marathon Maniac community that didn't know him reached out to him with cards, emails, photos, packages. It was very inspiring. Last year we celebrated Thanksgiving in the hospital, but we were all thankful that we had each other to celebrate with.
During this time I kept the medal I earned in the race we ran together in DE in my pocket. I squeezed it when I got scared. Before one of his surgeries I showed it to my dad and said that we will run another together once he gets through all of this. He smiled at me and told me that I better not lose my medal. I still carry it with me.
The doctors were unable to remove the aggressive tumor completely and they determined that treatment was the best course of action at that point. They started my dad on chemo therapy immediately. As Christmas rolled around my mom tried to force my dad to wear a surgical mask. He resisted. My dad was a strong and proud man and he was not interested in being uncomfortable or looking foolish. They reached a compromise: If my mom was diligent about having everyone wash their hands and keeping sick people away then my dad would not have to wear the mask. I remember it as one of our best Christmas'.
At the end of February I gave birth to my beautiful son Linus. I've heard people talk about the feeling of instant love, but I didn't realize how intense it is when it actually happens. The moment Linus was set on my chest my heart burst with joy. I was amazed that I (with Sam) was able to create the most beautiful being on this earth. What a wonderful gift God had given us!
Linus was born in Indiana. Despite having gone through three months of chemo, my dad came with my mom to see his grandson. He held him and kissed him, congratulated me and Sam but left the next day. He simply was too uncomfortable due to the pain and nausea to stay any longer. I cried when they left for several reasons. I was completely clueless on how to care for or raise a baby and I wanted desperately for my parents to teach me. Mostly I missed them and wanted to share these first memories of Linus with them. I hated that terrible disease for stealing these moments from us and hurting my dad. I felt so guilty that I wasn't living closer to my parents so it would not be such a hardship for them to come to us.
Sam and I made the decision that we needed to move closer to our family. There were so many reasons to head back to Ohio. We could go to my parents at a moments notice if needed. We would have the support of our families with the baby. We wanted Linus to know his Papa. And so when Linus was only three weeks old we moved back to Columbus.
When the chemo treatments ended they gave us some positive news. The tumor wasn't growing, it wasn't getting smaller but it wasn't growing. Thank God.
My dad's birthday is May 27th. This year my mom decided to have a big party for his birthday. It was over Memorial Day weekend and a beautiful day. My dad had quite a bit of energy and he looked better than he had in months. You could tell he was really pleased to be the center of such a great celebration. He was 59. It was a great day.
The day after the party my friend Anna came to visit us and meet Linus. When we told her about the party she asked if it was a milestone birthday. I paused and told her about his illness and said "so yes, they all are!"
He returned to work for one month after his birthday. I continued to call him everyday to see how it was going and I could tell that he was glad to be back to work, but it was a hardship on his body. He once told me that he liked being at worked because they didn't treat him like he was sick. While he was at work he was just Dave.
On July 8th my dad had an appointment with his oncologist. After three months of relief from the difficulties of treatment he was hoping for positive news. We all were. That day felt like one of the longest days of my life. After the appointment my parents were not interested in talking on the phone and sent out a quick text message: Not good has spread will start study asap even with treatment 6 to 9 mo. Frantically I tried to call her. Then Rose. Then Brian. Eventually I called each of my brothers and sisters. Finally, after what felt like an eternity I spoke to my mother as she was heading home from Cleveland. "What does it mean? Your text." I begged hoping she had worded her text poorly. After a long pause she confirmed my fears. The next day I went to my parents with my sister and the kids. We didn't bring up the text that day.
My dad died on November 3rd, 2011.
In the last week of his life he was never alone. My family surrounded him at all times. We prayed with him, laughed with him, cried with him. Despite the circumstances it was a truly beautiful experience. Each of us had a chance to talk to him and tell him how much we love him and say goodbye.
I miss him terribly. This is why I run for him.
The hiatus is over. I had every intention to run on October 17th, 2010 in the Columbus marathon, but then a miracle happened. I found out I was pregnant with my son Linus. What a surprise! A happy surprise! Since it was my first baby I was very skeptical about training or any strenuous activity. Unfortunately, I stopped running all together and got fat. Really fat. But the little kicks inside of me made me not care how fat I was getting. Now that Linus is nine months old I care. Back to square one. Maybe even square minus two.
Being fat is actually very insignificant considering the other events that have transpired over the last year and a half.
In August of last year I got a call from my parents. I was leaving an ultrasound and Sam and I were in a particularly good mood. My mom spoke slowly, telling me that my dad had a lump under his arm that the doctor wanted to biopsy. She handed the phone to my dad and he told me that he was planning on waiting until after his double (marathon in NH on Saturday and ME on Sunday) the following weekend to have the procedure done. As is typical for our family, everyone had their opinion about this decision. We cried and yelled at each other in the Weber tradition. Ultimately, my dad stood by his decision. He had trained to do the double and he didn't want to miss it. I'm glad he didn't, it was his last race.
The biopsy eventually revealed that my dad had cancer. Melanoma, an extremely deadly form of skin cancer. He underwent several surgeries throughout October and November. I have always been aware of how wonderful my father was, but during this time I started to realize the impact that he had on others. The people in his life were so supportive and caring toward our family. Even members of the Marathon Maniac community that didn't know him reached out to him with cards, emails, photos, packages. It was very inspiring. Last year we celebrated Thanksgiving in the hospital, but we were all thankful that we had each other to celebrate with.
During this time I kept the medal I earned in the race we ran together in DE in my pocket. I squeezed it when I got scared. Before one of his surgeries I showed it to my dad and said that we will run another together once he gets through all of this. He smiled at me and told me that I better not lose my medal. I still carry it with me.
The doctors were unable to remove the aggressive tumor completely and they determined that treatment was the best course of action at that point. They started my dad on chemo therapy immediately. As Christmas rolled around my mom tried to force my dad to wear a surgical mask. He resisted. My dad was a strong and proud man and he was not interested in being uncomfortable or looking foolish. They reached a compromise: If my mom was diligent about having everyone wash their hands and keeping sick people away then my dad would not have to wear the mask. I remember it as one of our best Christmas'.
At the end of February I gave birth to my beautiful son Linus. I've heard people talk about the feeling of instant love, but I didn't realize how intense it is when it actually happens. The moment Linus was set on my chest my heart burst with joy. I was amazed that I (with Sam) was able to create the most beautiful being on this earth. What a wonderful gift God had given us!
Linus was born in Indiana. Despite having gone through three months of chemo, my dad came with my mom to see his grandson. He held him and kissed him, congratulated me and Sam but left the next day. He simply was too uncomfortable due to the pain and nausea to stay any longer. I cried when they left for several reasons. I was completely clueless on how to care for or raise a baby and I wanted desperately for my parents to teach me. Mostly I missed them and wanted to share these first memories of Linus with them. I hated that terrible disease for stealing these moments from us and hurting my dad. I felt so guilty that I wasn't living closer to my parents so it would not be such a hardship for them to come to us.
Sam and I made the decision that we needed to move closer to our family. There were so many reasons to head back to Ohio. We could go to my parents at a moments notice if needed. We would have the support of our families with the baby. We wanted Linus to know his Papa. And so when Linus was only three weeks old we moved back to Columbus.
When the chemo treatments ended they gave us some positive news. The tumor wasn't growing, it wasn't getting smaller but it wasn't growing. Thank God.
My dad's birthday is May 27th. This year my mom decided to have a big party for his birthday. It was over Memorial Day weekend and a beautiful day. My dad had quite a bit of energy and he looked better than he had in months. You could tell he was really pleased to be the center of such a great celebration. He was 59. It was a great day.
The day after the party my friend Anna came to visit us and meet Linus. When we told her about the party she asked if it was a milestone birthday. I paused and told her about his illness and said "so yes, they all are!"
He returned to work for one month after his birthday. I continued to call him everyday to see how it was going and I could tell that he was glad to be back to work, but it was a hardship on his body. He once told me that he liked being at worked because they didn't treat him like he was sick. While he was at work he was just Dave.
On July 8th my dad had an appointment with his oncologist. After three months of relief from the difficulties of treatment he was hoping for positive news. We all were. That day felt like one of the longest days of my life. After the appointment my parents were not interested in talking on the phone and sent out a quick text message: Not good has spread will start study asap even with treatment 6 to 9 mo. Frantically I tried to call her. Then Rose. Then Brian. Eventually I called each of my brothers and sisters. Finally, after what felt like an eternity I spoke to my mother as she was heading home from Cleveland. "What does it mean? Your text." I begged hoping she had worded her text poorly. After a long pause she confirmed my fears. The next day I went to my parents with my sister and the kids. We didn't bring up the text that day.
My dad died on November 3rd, 2011.
In the last week of his life he was never alone. My family surrounded him at all times. We prayed with him, laughed with him, cried with him. Despite the circumstances it was a truly beautiful experience. Each of us had a chance to talk to him and tell him how much we love him and say goodbye.
I miss him terribly. This is why I run for him.
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