Waiting for Inspiration

Over the course of my six seasons on the DFMC team, I have made an effort to communicate frequently with my contact list of donors. This list is filled with family, friends--new and old, work colleagues--past and present, friends’ of family, friends’ of friends, and even kind and generous strangers. I am in awe of the number of people that support me throughout my training and fundraising endeavors. Many, year after year. Thanks to all of you, I have raised, to date, $66,733.60 toward innovative cancer research for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.

My communication is most often in the form of an email letter--one that takes me quite a bit of time to write, edit, read, re-edit, re-read and then finally send. I want my messages to be thoughtful, organized, and engaging and I aim for concise...I really do try. All told, I am usually good for about 5-10 email letters each season.

I spend many miles thinking up things to write about and will often laugh out loud during these mobile brainstorming sessions. This past week, I was thinking that I could write a message about my newly acquired talent of blowing my nose while running without falling. Or how I discern between which ice patches to run around and which to attempt to skate over (I made a bad choice last week...). Last weekend, it was car shopping (I am leaning toward the new Toyota Highlander) and attempting difficult math equations in my head related to work productivity (don’t ask).

Despite being over half way through my training season, I have only written and sent one letter so far. It isn’t because I forgot or can’t think of things to write about. And it certainly isn’t because fundraising means less to me this year than in previous years. I have simply been waiting for inspiration.

Today I was having lunch with a good friend who was telling me about a charity walk she does every year. She simply stated, “This is my thing.” And there it was.

Running for DFMC is MY thing. Every aspect of this experience has meaning for me. I must release a lot of endorphins because running makes me feel great all day. My long runs are meditative--I spent quality time alone thinking, dreaming, planning and reflecting. Every dollar I raise is a tangible representation of my efforts that I can then give back to Dana-Farber. My Dad and I spend precious time together driving from Philadelphia to Boston and back, listening to hours and hours of Willie Nelson. Joining DFMC’s In Memory program 3 years ago has connected me to the Smyths--I run in memory of their son, Jonathan. Jonathan and my mom, Patty are buried two gravestones away from one another in Wadsworth Cemetery in Sudbury, MA.

Most meaningfully, everyday that I am running for DFMC, I am connecting with my Mom who died almost 21 years ago.

I believe that there are no coincidences. The Boston Marathon always occurs within days (and sometimes on the same day) of the anniversary of my mom’s death--April 21st. That night in 1994, after our mom died, my sister, Regan, brother, Sean, and I went for a walk around our neighborhood. With our arms linked, we were in disbelief that Mom was gone, but felt confident that she would keep us close forever. Mom immediately gave us a wink by sending not one, but two shooting stars over our heads. Fast forward two decades, we have all been together in April celebrating Mom at the Finish Line year after year.

I like goals. My first year on the DFMC team, I thought reaching my fundraising goal of $10,000 was a bit lofty, yet I have exceeded that total year after year. While I was sitting at my 2nd pre-race pasta party in 2010, I impulsively announced to my family that my goal was to run for DFMC 5 times. Now that I am gearing up for race #6, my new goal is to continue running for DFMC until my fundraising total has exceeded $100,000.

Thank you for cheering me on along the way!! XO AMY

Because I Can

Running the Boston Marathon on the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team for the past 5 years in memory of my mom, Patty Shields and my buddy, Jonathan Smyth has added so much depth and meaning to my life.  Year after year, I lace up my sneaks right before Christmas to begin my 18 week training schedule.  Through the winter, often icy, snowy and cold, I hammer away the mileage suggested to train for the 26.2 miles trek to from Hopkinton to Boylston Street. Each time I cross that Finish Line, I am filled with gratitude, excitement, love and pride.  

And the incredible urge to take the next year off.

When the team registration email came my way this September, I passed it over in my inbox.  “This will be such a relaxing winter,” I thought to myself.  Through the early fall, the DFMC team began posting team updates on my Facebook timeline.  I often caught myself looking at the posts with a heavy heart.  “2016,” I reassured myself.  I let Marie, Jonathan’s mom, know of my intentions so that the family could be matched up with another runner this time around.

I really need this year off.  I think.

In November, Katie Smyth--Jonathan’s big sister, my 2014 DFMC teammate but most importantly, my friend--came to Philadelphia to run the Philly Marathon.  We met up for lunch and I listened to her talk excitedly about her place on the 2015 DFMC team.  “So, you are definitely not doing Boston this year,”  Katie asked.  As I said the words, “Yes.  I really need to take a year off,” I was overcome with regret.  

And panic.  What am I doing??  Year off, my foot!  Within 24 hours, with the blessing of my husband, I was in touch with Jan Ross, the team coordinator, and I was back on the team just as the final spots were being filled.

We all spent the summer taking the Ice Bucket Challenge inspired by Pete Frates, a former college athlete now paralyzed by ALS.  In November, I watched an ESPN E:60 special called “Catching Kayla” about Kayla Montgomery, a young female track star suffering from MS who breaks records and then collapses in her coaches arms because running makes her legs numb.  Jonathan Smyth spent 1/2 of his life fighting neuroblastoma rather than playing baseball and golf and watching the Red Sox.

When my mom was 42 years old, she was diagnosed with cancer.  Five years later, she  was gone.  I am 42 years old and I am healthy, strong and CAPABLE.  I have decided that I will run on the DFMC team each and every year because I can.  

Life is too precious and too short to take a year off.

Please consider supporting my run to help me reach my fundraising goal of $15,000!  www.runDFMC.org/2015/amym

XO AMY

PMB

It is hard to believe that the Boston Marathon was over a week ago.  Monday of last week, I was standing nervously in Wave 3, Corral 9 awaiting an 11 am race start.  I had just hugged my Dad and Regan for the last time before I set out to finish what I had started in 2013.  Security was definitely increased for spectators, but it did not impose upon the excitement and enthusiasm that I felt in Hopkinton.

Songs have always played a key role in my running experience.  I am always fine tuning my playlist—adding long forgotten 80s tunes, the newest pop song, or a recommended song that is off the beaten track.   When I was stopped last year at Mile 25.8, the song “I Will Wait,” by Mumford and Sons was blasting in my ears.  That song became very significant over the course of my training.  I would often replay that song over and over again during long runs, envisioning myself crossing the finish line that was nabbed from so many of us in 2013.  I shared in an earlier blog post about the song, “Praise You,” by Fat Boy Slim.  This song has been on my playlist for years and has always felt like a musical high-five from my Mom. 

My music is played on an iPod shuffle.  It is small, it holds all of the songs that I need, and I like how the songs shuffle at random.  It keeps it interesting.  As my Wave slowly approached the Start line, I turned on my music and got into my zone.  I train alone, so running with so many people, although exhilarating, is very distracting.  I turn my music up to tune out the noise and find my rhythm.  The song playing was background noise as I my walking turned to a fast walk to a jog.  With the Start line just feet in front of me, I thought, “This is it.  I am ready.  Go time.”  Song changes.  Random Shuffle:  “I Will Wait,” by Mumford and Sons.

The weather was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky.  Mother Nature hand-delivered the community of Boston the most perfect day for redemption!  From Hopkinton to Ashland to Framingham to Natick to Wellesley to Brookline to Boston, spectators lined the race course donning t-shirts and hats and waving signs reminding us runners what is means to be Boston Strong. 

I am not an elite runner.  I don’t train on the marathon course.  I pound the pavements around my neighborhood, watching my GPS watch calculate my mileage and monitor my pace.  I eat a generally healthy diet.  I don’t drink alcohol.  I drink a lot of water and make sure that I stay hydrated.  No matter how hard I try, I have not cracked the code of this race.  In 2008, I had my best time of 4:28:10.  2010 was more difficult (4:53:52), 2012 was the “hot year,” so my time wasn’t what I had hoped (5:12:48).  2013 was a great run, but I was only able to get a Projected Finish time (4:51:58). 

My number 1 goal of this year’s race was to cross the finish line, but I did have a time goal in the back of my head.  My only strategy was not to run too fast out of the gate.  The DFMC coach Jack Fultz says, “If you think you are running too slow, you are probably running too fast.”  I kept this in mind as I cruised through the first 17 miles of the race.  Mile 18 was a transitional mile up the Newton Hills. I struggled between miles 19 and 23.  It was warm and my thirst could not be quenched.  My energy was zapped.  I walked off and on.  Hugs from Regan and Dad as well as inspirational messages from the crowd kept me moving.

Throughout the run, I would glance up at the beautiful blue sky and think about my mom and Jonathan Smyth.  It is easy to lose focus due to excitement and fatigue.  This race is in memory of Mom,  Jonathan, and those that have fought cancer as hard as they could.  As I approached the 23^rd Mile Marker, I looked up and begged for their help.  Song changes.  Random Shuffle:  “Praise You,” by Fat Boy Slim.  You can’t make this stuff up.

Late in the afternoon, I passed by mile 25.8 and  turned the corner from Commonwealth Avenue to Hereford Street.  Up ahead, I saw Regan and Dad, my fearless and committed cheering duo, at the corner of Hereford and Boylston Street.  They were not within arms reach as I made the turn to the final stretch, but we all waved our arms with excitement.  Moments later, I crossed the finish line with a time of 5:06:26 placing 27,772^nd overall. 

I am often asked if I am happy with my time.  To be honest, not really.  But this year it doesn’t matter.  I was 6 years younger and 1 child less when I ran my first Boston.  I may never be able to replicate that 4:28:10 time.  This year’s Boston was about completion.  Closure.  Celebration.  My 2014 fundraising total has surpassed $10K thanks to all of you--my goal of $15K is within reach!   My overall DFMC fundraising total is currently $59,563.60.  For this, I am incredibly proud.

I am suffering from a case of PMB—post marathon blues.  I am home from Boston and my siblings.  Dad has returned to Texas.  I am back to work.  Life without training picks up where it left off in December.  Someone suggested that running the Broad Street Run in Philadelphia this weekend would cure my PMB.  You know what, I am good for now.  I will continue to play and replay last week’s experience through my mind.  Until next time.

XO AMY

It's Time

20 years ago this week, I came from college after getting the call from my Dad that it was “time.”  Mom was home with us, resting in a hospital bed in the living room.  Dear friends and family filled the house.  There were a lot of stories, a lot of laughs and many more tears as we all spent our last days with Patty.  On April 21st at 10:45 pm, Mom died peacefully--her hands being held by those that loved her so much.

That night, Regan, Sean, and I went for a walk around the neighborhood, arms linked.  We said confidently that Mom would keep close to one another for the rest of our lives.  After that, we saw two shooting stars.  And, she followed through on her promise.

Mom certainly has her way with messages.  After completing my first AND second Boston Marathons, Mom treated me to a beautiful rainbow spanning the sky.  Mom’s wink to me.

Today, 20 years later, I am up early.  I slept restlessly, looking at the clock off and on since 3 am.  Again, it is “time.”  I am headed up to Boston.  

Unlike 20 years ago, I am anticipating this trip with enormous excitement.  On Monday, April 21st, I will be taking on my 5th Boston Marathon in memory of Patty.  Last year, I picked up a new buddy to honor, Jonathan Smyth.  Jonathan and Patty are buried 2 headstones apart in Wadsworth Cemetery in Sudbury, MA.  

Mom and Jonathan fought the good fight against cancer with the help of the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.  As part of the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team for 5 race seasons, I have raised over $50,000 (and counting...).  For this, I am immensely proud.

If you have contributed this year or in the past, Thank You.  Keep me in your thoughts and prayers on Monday.  My bib # is 26821 in you feel so inclined to track my progress.  

Boston College: My experience

After my graduation from Lincoln-Sudbury Regional High School in 1990, I started my college career at Boston College.  It wasn’t without great debate.  I had my heart set on a university that I didn’t get into.  Then, I sent my deposit to another university that was out of state.  After a few weeks, I chickened out about going out of state and was able to secure my spot at BC.  I was pleased with this outcome and felt good to be attending school with a number of my friends from L-S.

Boston College is a very popular school and has often been challenged to accommodate its entire freshman class with on-campus housing.  I am not sure what the story is now, but back in my day if your family home was within a 30-mile radius of campus, you were not given priority for on campus housing.  Our alternatives were to commute from home or to live in an off-campus apartment.  Since commuting from home did not sound like very much fun, I elected to shack up with my dear L-S friend, Erica Verville Mawn.

Erica and I found a great 3-bedroom apartment on Crosby Road, a side street adjacent to campus.  We were able to secure other freshman roommates, most importantly our forever-friend-to-be, Heidi Burr Thomas.  By the time school started, Crosby Road was fully rented, furnished and ready to go!

Freshman year is a big transition for most 18-year-olds and it certainly was for me.  Living off campus was not all it was cracked up to be.  Despite having off-campus friends in other apartments in the area, my Crosby Road roomies and I felt out of the loop from the other on-campus freshman and found it challenging to make important early connections.  Even though my family was 45 minutes away, I was homesick.  For better or for worse, I made many trips to and from Sudbury which may have affected my ability to settle in to my new college home.  And I certainly wasn’t killing it academically.

The long and the short of it is…BC just wasn’t for me.  Or Erica.  Or Heidi.  Once the doors closed at Crosby Road after freshman year, we all eventually found different alma maters for which we were better suited and were better suited for us.  I definitely left BC with a bad taste in my mouth. 

When I ran my first Boston Marathon in 2008, I was unfamiliar with the race route as I hadn’t lived in MA for over 15 years.  I knew it started in Hopkinton and ended on Boylston Street in Boston, but had little awareness about what I would pass on my way.  As I trotted along, I recognized different spots and landmarks.  The Framingham train station.  Speen Street in Natick. The Gap in downtown Wellesley.  As I got closer to Newton and turned onto Commonwealth Avenue, a pit grew in my stomach as this is the road I traveled so many times from BC to home and back again.

Commonwealth Avenue (Comm. Ave.) is also home to the Boston Marathon’s infamous Heartbreak Hill.  It is the last of Newton’s four hills, which begin at mile 16 and end at mile 22.  I had been anticipating these hills with much anxiety.  It’s not that I am uncomfortable with hills--I run a lot of hills throughout my training.  But tackling hills this far into a run is a challenge.  I put my head down and eyes to the ground; not daring to look ahead for fear that the hills would never come to an end. 

Finally the pavement flattened out.  Spectators were wildly cheering and waving signs saying, “You’ve reached the top!”  I raised my head and wouldn’t you know it?  I was smack dab in the center of Boston College.  I passed the Crosby Road street sign.  I saw the prestigious campus to my right.  I saw thousands of enthusiastic BC Eagles enjoying themselves on the sidelines. I had made it!  Relief.  Pride.  Satisfaction. 

I have run this race 4 (almost 5) times.  I am now familiar with the course and know what to expect along the way.  I can anticipate the parts of the run that are harder for me than others.  Now, when I turn on to Comm. Ave., I am filled with determination and adrenaline, not sour feelings and dread.  For the first time in 20 years, Boston College brings me feelings of great joy and accomplishment!  In the language of social media, I “like,” BC.  (Thumbs up emoticon).

Praise You.

This year will be the 20th anniversary of my mom’s death.  Amazingly enough, it falls on the same day as the 2014 Boston Marathon--April 21st.  Over the past 20 years, I have had many instances when I feel certain that my mom is present.  Too many to count.  Sometimes it is in the form of dreams. Sometimes it is a strong feeling in my stomach. Other times, it happens when I hear a particular song.  

Whenever the song “Praise You” by Fat Boy Slim plays when I am running, I feel like my mom and I are giving each other high fives.  The chorus goes like this:  “We've come a long long way together, through the hard times and the good. I have to celebrate you baby, I have to praise you like I should.”  I feel like she is saying this to me and I feel like I am saying it to her.  

Living almost half of my life with out her has been quite an adventure.  MANY bumps in the road.  Lots of tears and heartache.  But somehow, I have gotten myself to the age of 41--married, three kids, great job--so much to be grateful for.  When I hear that song, I think she is saying, “Way to go, Aim!” 

When I listen to that song, I also think of my mom’s life experience.  She lived a full, rich life before her death at age 47.  She and my Dad celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary just weeks before she died.  She has 3 amazing kids who love each other dearly.  She has so many people that care about her--friends who have become such important people in my life.  It makes me sad to think about what she has missed out on over the past 20 years.  Weddings, grandchildren, retirement.  Life.

For these reasons, I want to Praise her like I should.

XO

All Running...All of the Time

A friend just asked me what I was doing this weekend.  My answer—running. 

Really, that’s about it.  Oh, and napping.  I am in the thick of my training.  Every weekend for the next few weeks, I will be running back-to-back long runs.  This weekend, I will run 12 miles Saturday and 14 miles Sunday.  Training reaches its peak the weekend of 3/29, when my longest run is 22 miles.

Training for a marathon really is a part-time job.  Thankfully I have a cooperative, supportive family that puts up with me while I am gone running for hours and then gone for a few more hours napping.

I wanted share two entries from my blog last year.  Enjoy!

 Here are 10 things that you may not have known about my mom, Patty Shields.

10. Patty always wanted to be an archeologist.

9. Patty liked to eat vanilla ice cream out of a cantaloupe.

8. Patty loved Laura Ashley.

7. Patty did not like roller coasters, but liked rides that spun.

6. Patty wanted a shamrock tattoo.

5. Patty liked black licorice.

4. Patty and I loved to watch Days of Our Lives.

3. Patty loved going to the movies.

2. One of Patty’s favorite flowers was the daisy.

1. Mom always encouraged me to “Just Do It.”

Here are 10 important things to know about Jonathan (courtesy of his mom, Marie Smyth):

1. Jonathan loved Legos. 

2. Jonathan was featured in an issue of Lego Mania Magazine.

3. Jonathan loved fried clam strips at Nancy's on the dock in Oak Bluffs, MA. on Martha's Vineyard.

4. Jonathan had a cute little beauty mark on the left side of his head that you could only see when he lost all of his hair during chemotherapy.

5. Jonathan loved golf and baseball and was a Red Sox fan.

6. Jonathan posed swinging a golf club on a brochure for the Jimmy Fund golf tournaments.

7. Jonathan loved watching Nickelodeon and especially the show "Rugrats".

8. Jonathan was born on May 4, 1990, weighed 7 pounds, 9 ounces and was 21 inches.

9. Jonathan loved beanie babies, trucks, race cars, and drawing pictures of sharks and rockets.

10. Jonathan and his mom rescued a baby snapping turtle from a Dunkin Donuts parking lot.  Jonathan named him "Little Dude". Little Dude lived in a tank during the winter in Jonathan's first grade classroom as their class pet. In the spring, Little Dude was released to the pond behind our house in Sudbury. Mom says she thinks they saw him a few times over the years after his release.

XO

The Thing About Goals...

Goals are important.  They keep us moving forward.  When training for a marathon, I like to break the ultimate goal (26.2 miles) in to 18 weeks of smaller goals.  Over time, the weekly mileage increases to condition us for race day.  I keep a print out of my training schedule handy and find it very satisfying to cross off my daily runs/workouts.  A visible, tangible record of my accomplishments for the week.

For the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge team, my teammates and I have an additional goal.  We are charged with raising money to benefit the Claudia Adams Barr program in Innovative Cancer Research.  In a nutshell, the Barr Program is critical for conducting basic research, which is not eligible for federal funding until well along in proof of principle. The program enables leading-edge, highly-innovative research up to the point that it may be possible to attract government or private support. Barr Investigator awards help advance the professional development of Dana-Farber’s newly appointed Instructors and Assistant Professors who otherwise lack seed funding to test hypotheses and bring promising studies forward in completely new areas of research.

I am proud to report that, over the course of my 4 DFMC races and my 2014 fundraising to date, I have raised $50,367.55!!! 2008: $10,245.55; 2010: $10,001.00; 2012: $13,686.00; 2013: $15,440.00 I am more proud of these totals than any of my marathon finishing times.  Losing a loved one to cancer is a very powerless feeling.   It has been so amazing to actually DO SOMETHING to honor my Mom and my In-Memory Partner,  Jonathan Smyth.

So…this all being said…I have set a lofty goal for my 2014 DFMC fundraising--$15,000!  We have done it before and we can do it again!  As of today 2/28/14, my Barr Program total is $995.00.  I have a lot of work to do over the next 1 month 20 days and 21 hours!  I realize that, in reaching out to you,  I am “tapping the same well” as I have over the past 4 races.  You have all been so generous!   If you can, please consider a small donation to help me reach my goal! 

And if you have already donated, THANK YOU!

XO

Dreadmill

Three treadmill workouts in a row.  Truly dreadful.  The “dreadmill” (props to my friend Dawn for that moniker).  This winter is KILLING ME!  It is supposed to be WARM this weekend (if you call 40s warm), so I will get outside and finally get in some outdoor mileage.
I wanted to pass along some exciting news! First, a little history…  The DFMC has a program in which runners can partner with families who have lost a child to cancer and run in their memory.  Last year, I partnered with the Smyths—a family formerly from Sudbury, MA (like myself).  Their son Jonathan lost his battle with neuroblastoma in January, 1998 and is buried 2 gravestones down from my mother, Patty Shields, in Wadsworth Cemetery in Sudbury.
   
Last marathon season was such a special experience as I had the support of not only all of my friends and family, but of the friends and family of the Smyths. Marie, Jonathan’s mom, and I maintained regular contact over the course of my training and I was thrilled to have Katie Smyth (Jonathan’s older sister), a graduate student at MIT, as my guest at the DFMC pre-race pasta party.
 
For the good news… Katie Smyth has joined the DFMC team this year!  Although the Smyths have been part of the Partner/In Memory program since 1997, this is the first time the family has had a runner of its own!  I am so excited for Katie as this will certainly be an amazing year to run her 1st Boston in memory of her brother. I am crossing my fingers that Marie and family can make the trip to Boston this year to cheer us on!
 
Please keep Katie, Jonathan, Patty and I in your thoughts over the next few months as we gear up for April 21st!

XO AMY

After The Apocalyspe

This past week has been a challenge.  Due to an ice storm, my family lost power, heat and hot water for 3 full days.  Kids were out of school for three days.  Scrambling to get to work.  Strategizing how to even get a shower.  Running has not been on the top of my priority list.

“Flexible” is not my middle name.  I like things to be a certain way.  I like predictability.  I often eat the same thing every day.  When it comes to marathon training, I follow the same training schedule year after year to a “T.”  This training season has been humbling.  Rain, Ice, Slush, Snow, Black Outs.  Mother Nature, not Amy, is at the wheel for sure.

I often catch myself in a panic.  “I haven’t run all of my training runs this week!!!!  Will I be able to finish the marathon????”  Then I collect myself and realize, “Yes.  I’ve done it before.  I’m training and doing the best I can.”  Plus, I have two guardian angels pulling me along!  This training is not about me.  This training is about my mom, Patty and my In-Memory Partner, Jonathan.  I can cope with the elements.

XO

WEATHER!

Snow.  Ice.  Rain. Fog.

So far, it has been a very tumultuous training season , weather-wise.   I have even been driven inside and onto a treadmill.  Egads!  Not a piece of cake, but…we soldier on!  Many miles to go before the big day on April 21.

For most of you, this is the 2nd, 3rd, 4th even 5th time I come to you in the name of the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge.  I wanted to extend my most sincere appreciation to you and let you know that every single one of your contributions means the world to me.  I realize that everyone has a cause close to their heart and it is so important to me that you have considered supporting mine.

I will keep this note brief today… more news and updates to come.

XO AMY

December 16th is fast approaching!

Next Monday (December 16) marks DAY 1 of my 2014 Dana Farber Boston Marathon Challenge (DFMC) training.  It feels like it was just yesterday that I crossed the START line in Hopkinton.  I prefer to think about the excitement and adrenaline that I felt at the start of the race, rather than what happened at the end.

This year’s race is monumental in so many ways.  The whole city/country/world will be tuned in to show love and support for Boston Strong!  I can’t even begin to imagine what race day will be like…  For me, there are several special milestones that take place on race day--April 21, 2014.  First and foremost, it will be the 20th anniversary of my mom, Patty Shields’ death.  I can hardly believe it has been that long.  My participation in the DFMC has been my way to celebrate my mom’s memory and do my part to battle the disease that took her from us too early.

Second, it will be my 5th running of Boston on the DFMC team.  As I sat at my very first DFMC pre-race pasta party, I was so swept up in the positive energy of the event that I declared that I would do this race 5 times.  Third, the 2014 race is the DFMC’s 25th anniversary.  It feels amazing to have such an incredible organization be part of my life.  Fourth, if all goes as planned and I reach my 2014 fundraising goals, through the generosity of my family and friends (and their family and friends), I will have raised over $60,000 for the DFMC.  100% of all donations go to the Claudia Adams Barr Program in Innovative Basic Cancer Research.

I am excited to share that I will again be running in memory of my buddy, Jonathan Smyth.  For those of you not familiar, Jonathan was my In Memory partner in 2013.  Jonathan was a very brave “little dude” who fought cancer like crazy, but lost his battle in January of 1998 at the age of 7.  What makes Jonathan extra special to me is that he is buried 2 headstones down from my mom in Wadsworth Cemetery in Sudbury, MA.  Whenever I visit mom, I can visit Jonathan.  I believe the two of them kept me safe during last year’s race.

You will certainly be hearing from me throughout the next 18 weeks as I run the cold, dark streets of Lower Merion, PA.  Your continuous love and support is what keeps me going!

XO AMY

Sore and Sunburned with a Heavy Heart

I write this message today at 3:45 am because I am awake...for the second time tonight.  Playing and replaying my experience on Monday, April 15.  I wanted to get them down on paper so that they would stop swirling around in my head like a confusing bad dream.

Thursday, April 11, brought on a major case of the excited jitters.  Being at work was torture.  My knees were bouncing and I couldn’t stop staring at the clock.  Dad was flying in from Texas that afternoon.  That, to me, symbolized the start of “Marathon Weekend.”  

Friday morning, April 12, I popped awake to complete my “final lap”--a simple 3 mile run.  It was misting by mile 1, drizzling by mile 2 and full on raining by mile 3.  But I didn’t care.  It was “go time.”  Dad and I were taking off that morning, heading North to the Homeland.  To run the race I had trained for since December 10, 2012.  Whose end I had visualized during every long run.  

Saturday, April 13, was met with more jitters, precious family time and anxious anticipation.  Lots of dilemmas went through my head.  Do I run with my phone?  Should I wear my water belt?  Shorts or capris?  These questions feel so insignificant now.

Sunday, April 14.  This is it.  Marathon Eve.  The race expo to pick up my number #23399.  The Dana Farber Marathon Challenge team pasta party where my guest was Katie Smyth, my In Memory partner, Jonathan’s sister.  I nervously and excitedly awaited Katie’s arrival in the lobby of the Copley Marriott Hotel.  We had never met, but were texting one another.  I told her that I would be the woman wearing green pants.  Only to see another woman wearing green pants stroll by me.  Who knew?  Never the less, Katie and I found one another.  I felt like I was hugging an old friend.  

I was too nervous to eat at the party, but savored every moment of the program.  The video slide show of all those children who lost their lives to cancer, including Jonathan.  The celebration of those children fighting cancer who gathered on stage with their running “partners” (fellow DFMC teammates) and received a never ending round of applause.  Quips and final words of wisdom from our team coach, 1976 Boston Marathon winner Jack Fultz.  As he put it so perfectly, “The hay is in the barn.  Training was the journey.  Tomorrow is the celebration.”

Following the party, Regan and I walked Dad to the car and waved him off as he headed back to Rockport for the night.  Regan and I had some sister bonding time ahead of us.  We strolled to the incomparable and awe-inspiring Finish Line on Boylston Street to take some marathon eve photos.  “This is where I am heading tomorrow” photos.  “This is what I have run almost 500 training miles for” photos.  After that, I was finally hungry, so we grabbed a quick salad at one of the restaurants right next to the Finish Line.

We laughed a lot back at the hotel.  Regan was teasing me about how precisely I was laying out my race gear.  #23399 pinned perfectly on to my race singlet.  Shorts were the choice.  Comfy post-race change of clothes packed in my race bag.  Then we slept.

5 am. Monday, April 15.  Alarm goes off.  Up I popped.  Jumped in the shower.  Donned my uniform.  Hugged my sister and went to meet my team.  Immediate friendships developed as my teammates and I made the chilly walk from our team headquarters, the Copley Square Marriott to the Boston Common where yellow school buses were in queue to drive thousands of runners about 26.2 miles west to Hopkinton, the small Massachusetts town famous for one thing--being the start of one of the most revered marathons in the world.

10:20 am.  Regan and Dad greeted me for some final well wishes, last minute photos, long tight hugs and I was off.  As I walked toward Corral 6 for my 10:40 Wave 3 start, my mind and heart were racing.  As much as the excitement of the crowd was energizing, I put on my music so that I could focus and get into my zone.  I was about to take my “final exam.”  And it wasn’t going to be easy.

10:40 am.  Wave 3 starts.  Like a herd of cattle, my crew begins to walk toward the start.  Walking is taken over by slow jogging and there it is.  START.  I step over the line and the race had begun.

When I run, I look down.  It’s just what I do.  It was so tempting to crane you neck to look at the thousands of spectators and fellow runners.  Some in crazy uniforms.  Many wearing the names of loved ones on their backs.  I had to continue to refocus myself.  Any extraneous movement is energy I will need at mile 22, when the race really gets hard.

The early miles were just sliding by.  It was unbelievable.  It felt like every time I looked up, I was passing a mile marker. “I am doing this.  And I feel great!”

Mile 9.  Dad, Regan, Sean, my sis-in-law Emily and my two nephews, Henry and Calvin were scanning the crowd for #23399.  I spotted Regan’s fuchsia sweater quickly and easily near Speen Street in Natick.  Quick hugs and kisses all around and back on the route I went.   

Mile 10.  Hugs from my dear high school friend Jonathan Kaplan and his family.

Mile 13.1.  The half way point.  And a surprise sighting of good friends from “back in the day,” Ryan and Kim (Buckley) Beagin.

Miles 14 through 16, I was flying high and in disbelief.  I am really doing this and feeling little pain.

Mile 17.  Hugs from two of my best friends of over twenty years, Heidi (Burr) Thomas and Erica (Verville) Mawn and each of their kids, Ellie and Jimmy.

Mile 19-21.  Hear it comes.  Heart break Hill.  Dad and Regan on the side to greet me as I embark up the infamous grade then off they went to cheer me on at the Finish Line.  Head down, music loud, mind focused.  I see another old Gettysburg College friend, Jim Marsh at mile 20.  I almost missed him from being so far into my zone.  And then all of a sudden, I look up and I’m at the top.  Boston College students yelling and whooping it up, encouraging runners along, well into their kegs.

Notable point:  somewhere up the Hill, I pass the Team Hoyt--the iconic and awe inspiring Father/Son team.  Father pushing disabled Son in his specially crafted racing wheel chair because early on in his life, Son said that “when I run with my Dad, I no longer feel disabled.”  What a rush that was!

I am feeling strong.  I haven’t had the desire to walk.  My pace was steady.  I am doing this. 

Miles 22-24 weren’t easy.  My legs were feeling heavy.  But my heart and my breathing were strong.  Lots of oxygen-filled breaths in through the nose, out through the mouth.  I  touched my heart necklace, rubbed my Lego and carried on.

Mile 25.  The Citgo sign.  The Dana Farber Marathon Challenge cheering spot.  One mile to go.  

I made a decision to pick up my pace a bit, because hell, I can do anything for 10 minutes.  I have a specific time I want to break. I shuffle my iPod shuffle to a power song and hit it.  My legs pushing as hard as they can.  Head down.  Focus intense.  That Finish Line is mine within minutes.

Until it wasn’t.

As, “I Will Wait” by Mumford and Sons is screaming in my ears, I notice non-runners pouring on to the race course.  “Excuse me!   Out of my way,” I scream as I bob and weave.  “Where is the crowd control?  Why aren’t the police holding these people back,”  I think as I strive to grab that Finish Line by the horns and take it down to the ground.

“The race is over.  You can’t finish.”  I take my ear phones off.  “What?”  The race had come to a complete halt at mile 25.5.  Fellow racers just standing still, in shock.  People frantically on their phones.  What the hell is going on?  I was almost delusional as I thought, “Did I miss it?  Did I cross the Finish?”  Confusion ensues.

Eventually news is trickling in that there had been two explosions at the Finish Line.  My mind immediately jumps to Regan and Dad.  Waiting for me to turn the corner from Hereford to Boylston for the final straight away toward the Finish.  My decision to not run with a phone immediately becomes a problem.  

As we stand there, the 50 degree temperature begins to take hold.  Shivering.  Teeth chattering.  Kind residents of Beacon Street are handing out garbage bags--make shift coats to keep us warm.  Pitchers of water and cups are being poured and distributed.  Snacks are being handed out.  

I encounter a fellow Dana Farber teammate and her boyfriend and we naively wonder aloud, “I hope they at least let us walk over the finish line.”  We had no idea what was happening a short .5 miles away.  Due to the hard right and then hard left of that final .5 mile, we had no view of the nightmare that lay ahead.

A stranger allowed me to use his phone, but all cell service had been cut off.  I had no way to find my family.  Panic set in.  “I need my stuff,” is all I could say, on repeat.  Prior to the race, runners check their gear onto predesignated school buses, carefully organized by race number so that it is there waiting for you once you finish the race.  All I could think about was getting my phone so that I could contact my Dad and Regan.  Picturing them at the Finish Line.  Where two bombs just exploded.

Without any official information, no one knew where to go or what to do.  Eventually the crowd begins to move forward.  Word is that all runners are being diverted to the Boston Common to await further notice.  After running 25.5 miles, walking another mile sounds very unappealing.  

My new friends and I commit to sticking together as we make our way down Marlborough Street.  The impact of what had just happened at the Finish Line in no way sinking in or understood.  All I could wonder was how in the world was I going to find my family.  “I just need my stuff.”

Miraculously, Berkley street is accessible--the home of the baggage buses.  My friends and I bee line it for the white Dana Farber bus and some how dig through 500 gear bags.  My stuff.  My phone.  When I turn it on, it “dings” incessantly as texts are pouring in from concerned friends.  Disregarding these, I call Regan---straight to voice mail.  I call Dad---straight to voice mail.  Panic.  Disbelief.  

A decision was made to walk to the Copley Marriott, team headquarters.  As we trudge along, teeth chattering, I hear a beautiful sound.  My phone ringing and my sister’s face appears on my screen.  We realize that we are a block apart.  I turn around and there is that fuchsia sweater.  Dad, Regan and I hug tightly.  We are safe and we are together.  

With little idea or understanding of what is happening on Boylston Street, we decide the best thing to do is to get out of the city as quickly as possible.  Because T service (mass transit) was suspended, we embark on a 2 mile walk to our car.  Once safely in our car, we turn the news on the radio and listen in silence to what has just occurred.

Regan, Dad and I arrive safely at Sean and Emily’s house.  We are greeted by huge, relieved hugs.  I quickly shower and then settle on the couch to watch the horrific images of that iconic Finish Line where just the night before, we took photos and ate dinner.  Now a crime scene.  3 dead, over 150 people injured.

As I sit here this morning, sore and sunburned, my heart is heavy.  I am filled with emotions, none of which are well-formed or coming to the surface.  I am left with an overall feeling of numbness.  Most present is the anger that I couldn’t complete my race.      I hear a little voice in my head saying, “Where’s MY medal?”  My mind and heart is incapable of wrapping themselves around the reality of what is being looped on the news.  Death.  Amputations.  Shrapnel.  Pressure Cookers.  Terrorist Attack.

I hope I don’t sound ungrateful.  Two angels kept my pace closer to an 11 minute mile than a 10 minute mile.  I can’t even grasp what it would be like if I was crossing the line, with my family cheering me on, as those twin bombs exploded.  Surreal.  

My affect is flat.  My mood is somber.  My feelings are numb.  But I feel all of your love and support, as I have during this entire process.  I finally made it through the 60+ texts that dinged in when I turned on my phone and the 100s of Facebook message.  You are all amazing and I am so lucky to call you my friends.

Yesterday, Tuesday, April 16, Dad and I embarked on our long journey back to Philadelphia, first making at stop at Wadsworth cemetery in Sudbury, MA.  Mom and Jonathan deserved a visit and a thank you.  Just two gravestones apart, they will forever rest together.  High-fiving one another for keeping my family and I safe on race day.  That will be my “rainbow” this year.  

I am well on my way to raising my true goal of $15,000--$10K felt attainable, $15K felt like a pipe dream.  But we are doing it!  Donations are still welcome because after all, this whole endeavor is about raising money to BEAT CANCER.  No terrorist can take that away from us.

All my love and thanks.

XO AMY

1 day...14 hours

Hello!

1 day and 14 hours to go according to the race count down clock.  I'm ready.  I'm in Rockport, MA and just had dinner with my dad, brother, sister, bro and sis-in-law and my adorable nephews.  Spectator logistics are being figured out.  Post-race party plans are in place.  Life is good.

I was feeling reflective yesterday as I ran my final 3 mile run.  If I were a poet, I would write something like "I finished up training just like I started...with a three mile run and the same goal in mind."  I carefully packed up my race singlet, my shorts, socks, my lucky running hankie and my shoes.  Petrified of forgetting something important.

I also put my mom's heart necklace around my neck and a Lego in my shorts pocket.  Because no matter what happens, Monday's run is about Patty and Jonathan.  It pays respect to their struggle, their fight and their courage.  I am honored to be running with their names on my back.

Thank you thank you thank you for all of your love, support, encouragement and well wishes.  Thank you for making a donation to my efforts to help create a world without cancer.

Think of me on Monday around 10:40 am...I will be part of the final wave...#23399.

XO AMY

Buds, Mulch and Sunshine!

Today was my last long run before the “big one” on April 15th!  It was a fabulous 12 mile run complete with the sights and smells of Spring.  The sun was bright and warm. Many lawns were sprinkled with new, fresh smelling mulch.  Everywhere I looked, I saw the small beginnings of buds on trees.  SPRING IS FINALLY HERE!

During my run, nostalgic as I am, I kept thinking, “This is the last time...I will run up Bryn Mawr Avenue...I will pass “Camelot” running up Grays Lane...I will pray no one hits me on Morris Avenue...I will dart across Montgomery Avenue...I will cross the Church Lane bridge.”  As if I will never run these routes again...  HOWEVER, I will not be running them anymore this season and for that matter, anytime soon.

To date, I have clocked 467.5 miles since December 10, 2012.  A few more next week and then 26.2 on April 15.

Now the fundraising drum begins to beats louder.  Today, my fundraising total is $8,205 and I have my eyes on $10K by next week with an ultimate goal of $15K.  Please consider donating--no amount is too small.  If you have already supported me, words can not express my appreciation!

You will most likely hear from me again before Race Day....and then again on Race morning as I anxiously anticipate the massive feat that lays before me.  

XO AMY

10 Things about Jonathan Smyth

Hello again,

In addition to running in memory of my mom, I am also running In Memory of Jonathan Smyth.  Jonathan was a brave fighter who lost his battle with cancer at age 7 in 1998. 

Here are 10 important things to know about Jonathan (courtesy of his mom, Marie Smyth):

1. Jonathan loved Legos.

2. Jonathan was featured in an issue of Lego Mania Magazine.

3. Jonathan loved fried clam strips at Nancy's on the dock in Oak Bluffs, MA. on Martha's Vineyard.

4. Jonathan had a cute little beauty mark on the left side of his head that you could only see when he lost all of his hair during chemotherapy.

5. Jonathan loved golf and baseball and was a Red Sox fan.

6. Jonathan posed swinging a golf club on a brochure for the Jimmy Fund golf tournaments.

7. Jonathan loved watching Nickelodeon and especially the show "Rugrats".

8. Jonathan was born on May 4, 1990, weighed 7 pounds, 9 ounces and was 21 inches.

9. Jonathan loved beanie babies, trucks, race cars, and drawing pictures of sharks and rockets.

10. Jonathan and his mom rescued a baby snapping turtle from a Dunkin Donuts parking lot. 
Jonathan named him "Little Dude".  Little Dude lived in a tank during the winter in Jonathan's first grade classroom as their class pet.  In the spring, Little Dude was released to the pond behind our house in Sudbury.  We think we saw him a few times over the years after his release.

Please consider supporting my fundraising efforts to honor the memory of Jonathan, Patty and all of our loved ones who are battling or who have battled cancer!

XO AMY

Hello!  Here are 10 things that you may not have known about my mom, Patty Shields.

10.       Patty always wanted to be an archeologist.
9.         Patty liked to eat vanilla ice cream out of a cantaloupe.
8.         Patty loved Laura Ashley.
7.         Patty did not like roller coasters, but liked rides that spun.
6.         Patty wanted a shamrock tattoo.
5.         Patty liked black licorice.
4.         Patty and I loved to watch Days of Our Lives.      
3.         Patty loved going to the movies.
2.         One of Patty’s favorite flowers was the daisy.
1.         Mom always encouraged me to “Just Do It.”

I am running the 2013 Boston Marathon in her honor.  Please consider supporting my fundraising efforts.  If you have already supported me, thank you thank you!!

XO AMY

Let the TAPER begin!

 

I put 21 miles on the books yesterday.  What a great feeling it was to come to a stop after 3.5 hours of straight running.  Trotting, really.  Like I said before, I am not fast.  Tortoise, not the hare.  That begin said, with 20 days to go, I am pretty much staring this race right in the face!

 

I will confess my fears here and now.  This will be my 4^th time in the ring with the Boston Marathon and it is NOT easy.  Running 21 miles yesterday reminds me of what it feels like to “hit the wall.”  Around mile 18, my body just says, “That’s enough, thank you very much.”  I am not built like a true runner that just bounces and glides along, feet barely touching the ground.  But what I am is determined and committed.  I push through those last 8 miles.  It is torturous at times.  I want to stop again and again.  But finishing the race is the only option, so I put one foot in front of the other.  I can almost hear the cheers and can envision the fans urging us along.  That brings a smile to my face.

 

Yes, marathons are hard.  I choose to do this one again and again because it make me feel great.  The sense of accomplishment I feel when I turn the corner toward the finish line is up there in my top ten best feelings ever!  But even more than that, fundraising for Dana-Farber makes me feel amazing.  In the past 4 years, I have raised over $45,000 and counting!  Please help me cross the $50,000 mark!  100% of your donations go straight to innovative cancer research.  You can’t beat that with a stick.

 

You will be hearing a lot from my in the next 20 days…thank you to those of you who have already supported me. 

 

XO

Race day is approaching quickly!  Only 24 days away…  Although it is the second day of Spring, this morning’s run covered my eyelashes with snow.  I have my longest run of the training season this weekend and it looks to be a nice, warm 51 degrees.  That makes me happy.  I have a playlist FULL of new songs thanks to your suggestions…new songs keep the long runs interesting.

 

I am shamelessly soliciting for donations.  No amount is too small.  It all adds up to one big fat number at the end of the day.  Last year, the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge raised over 4 million dollars.   That is A LOT of money and it is all thanks to you and your support.

 

I plan to be the tortoise, not the hare this year.  Not that I was ever a speed demon…  My goal is simply to finish without dehydrating and to try not to do too much walking.  I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I had a time goal in mind…but I will keep that to myself for now J

 

As always, to all of you who have already donated, your support means so much to me.  Participating in this event is one of the most rewarding experiences of my life and makes me feel so close to my mom, Patty and this year, Jonathan Smyth.  Someone I never knew, but now feel like I do.

 

XO

The Art of Fundraising

I am sitting on my couch, contemplating my 16 mile training run tomorrow.  My stomach is WAY too full of cake from my dear friend’s baby shower.  Not the best way to fuel a run, but I can never resist a dessert buffet.  

At this very moment, Marathon Monday is exactly 1 month: 12 days: 12 hours away.  I set out to raise $15,000 and am only 1/5 of the way there.  If my math is correct.  Which it often is not.  Needless to say, I need to get my fundraising pants on and get to work!

I chose $15K as my fundraising goal because last year I raised over $13K and know that it is possible.  Rounding up to the next “5” seemed like an obvious place to go for 2013.  Now, I need to figure out exactly how to get there.  What is the perfect art to fundraising?

In the past, I have peppered your inboxes with messages.  I have blogged.  I have written quippy status updates.  All with the intention of drawing people into my story.  My love for my mom.  My admiration for little Jonathan Smyth.  My rainbows sightings.

Listen, I realize that everyone has a cause that is close to their heart.  And I am imposing mine on to you.  My cause is Innovative Cancer Research.  Research by the brightest, most creative scientists out there working hard to treat and eventually eliminate cancer once and for all.

I know you have your cause.  But if you have ever known anyone to suffer the effects of cancer, please consider making a donation to my Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge.  Dollar amounts add up, so don’t fret about the number.  My daughter Charlotte has a paper bag with the words “Fight Cancer” on it, full of loose change.  That seems like a great place to start.

XO AMY