Running the Boston Marathon

It wasn't until I was on the plane ride home with my sleeping child in the seat next to me

that I finally got the chance to think about the weekend that I was departing from.

The 50 new faces who shared their gut-wrenchingly heartfelt stories

and the immediate connection I made with each of them.

The way my heart hiccuped when I noticed that Rick Hoyt had slipped into the room

and knowing that I was about to meet my hero.

The moment I was swept up by 3-time Boston Marathon winner Uta Pippig

and knowing how lucky I was to not only have her as a coach, but as a friend.

And finally, hearing my brother tell me the night before my race that he was proud of me.

I wept like a child.

But perhaps the most exciting part of it all,

and what should come as no surprise at all,

was the 26.2 from Hopkington to Boston.

In what would be revealed as record-setting heat,

the hottest city in America on that day,

on one of the most challenging courses in the world:

Team Hoyt lined up to make our victory lap.

Sweat. 

Good god, lots of sweat.

Tears. 

In my case, uncontrollable sobs.

Pain. 

A jammed toe, two funky knees and cramps.

Dizziness. 

Hydration took on a new definition.

Nausea.

Flooding your body with water, gatorade and Gu mixed in with 90-degree weather = gross.

Fear.

Watching people fall to the ground, rushed by ambulance and unconscious is frightful.

Question.

About 4,000 registered runners deferred this year's race.

But never ever once did I think about quitting.

This was the day I dreamt about for 6 months straight.

The moment I had been waiting for.

This was my victory lap

to celebrate the $10,275 I raised for the Hoyt Foundation,

to remember the 175 aprons I made to pay for my hotel room and plane tickets,

to honor my brother on the 29th anniversary of his accident,

to make my family and friends proud,

and to fulfill my heart to an extent that I didn't know was possible.

Next to childbirth, this was the most difficult and painful thing I've ever endured,

and yet, so incredibly enjoyable. 

The first 13 miles were hard. 

But I had my running partner, Jenny, with me. 

We pushed each other, reminded each other to hydrate.

I checked on her torn glutes, and she made sure my knees were holding up.

But high noon hits hard when on shadeless asphalt,

and running turned to jogging, 

jogging turned to awkward fast-steps,

fast-steps turned to walking.

We had our occasional burst of wind.

Teddy Bruschi.

Boston College.

Running into teammates.

But nothing would give us as much determination 

as when we actually found Dick and Rick on the course. 

Although slowed down to a walking pace,

they were in an extreme mindset. 

We followed. 

Then more teammates found us and joined.

Before we knew it, there was a strong group of 10 of us,

giving Dick and Rick their much deserved space,

but backing them up like an army.

For 6 miles, we walked (in my case limped)

and watched as our heroes marched on to their 30th Boston finish.

But they weren't just our heroes,

the entire crowd was moved, 

or oftentimes were waiting just to see them pass.

I knew how much they meant to me, 

but didn't entirely comprehend how much they meant to the community until that hike.

These two are what the Boston Marathon stands for.

Determination. Perseverance. Inspiration.

We made all made our final hike up to Boylston,

most of us at that point plagued with cramps, exhaustion and pain,

and then something amazing happened.

The other runners parted,  

and without a soul 100 yards in front of behind of us,

we all flew down Boylston to the finish. 

Together as Team Hoyt.

The crowds went wild. 

I crossed the finish line with Dick and Rick Hoyt on their 30th Boston Marathon.

It was a moment that I will never forget and will cherish forever.

Running the Boston Marathon with Team  Hoyt was not a chapter in my life,

it was a stepping stone to a new life.

I will run in my Team singlet in every race I run.

This will be my last blog post.

Until October 2012...when I start training for Boston 2013 as a Team Hoyt entrant.

The weekend in pictures:

Meet the "Mayor" of SoHo

In some very recent and exciting news,

Ryan was featured in his neighborhood's newspaper,

South Tampa Community News.

After practically begging the world of Facebook to scan me a copy,

I finally got my Dad to snag one while in the 'hood today

and I just read it for the first time.

I am so very proud of this article. 

Ryan is a big staple in his community,

and I couldn't have been more pleased with the community's appreciation.

The publisher of this paper was Bill Sharpe, 

also known as SoHo Bill.

I say was because Bill died very tragically the day this article was released.

Bill was a great friend of Ryan's,

and he told me how much he loved Ryan as a friend when I spoke to him just 3 months ago.

I wanted to take a minute of this post to tell you all of this

because Bill Sharpe is also responible for giving the homeless of Tampa employment.

Please pick up a copy of Tampa Epoch when you see it on the side of the road.

You'll not only be helping the homeless earn an honest living,

but also honoring someone who gave character and devotion to the city. 

Thanks, Bill, for being such a good friend to Ryan and to Tampa Bay.

You will be missed.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Here is the article:

Meet Ryan - The "Mayor" of SoHo
by Amy Lassiter


When I walked into MacDinton's to meet with Ryan Shuck recently, I knew instantly that I had met a new friend. His kind eyes and infectious smile greeted me, and as we ordered our drink and went to our table, every one there stopped to say hello. Later, Ryan boasted that he has checked into MacDinton's 44 times in two months on his favorite application called "Foursquare." With so many "check-ins" at his favorite establishment and so many greetings sent his way, it didn't take me long to understand why Ryan has been crowned "The Mayor" of SoHo; he is a friend to all.


In addition to socializing, Ryan enjoys tech gadgets, is an avid sports fan, dabbles in a bit of sales, works out twice a week, and spends time volunteering at the Ronald McDonald House. Amazing feats for this 30 year old who 28 years ago, when he was 18 months old, was in an automobile accident with his parents. Left with a permanent disability, Ryan endured nearly 30 surgeries and spent a good amount of his formative high school years in a body cast.


Not to be deterred, Ryan did his best to stay as involved as he could in sports. He went to every football and basketball game and became the basketball stats recorder. He played in a challenger baseball league, learned to drive with one hand and one foot, graduated high school and went on to obtain a bachelor's degree from University of Tampa in Sports Management.


Ryan's sister, Kellyn Gowen, recently wrote to tell us that she will be running this April's 116th Boston Marathon with Team Hoyt in honor of her brother. Team Hoyt is father/son team - Dick (72) has pushed his son Rick (50) in more than 1,000 races over the past 30 years. Rick is a quadriplegic with cerebral palsy and Ryan has a similar diagnosis. According to Kellyn, "Ryan has overcome incredible obstacles, and he is my hero. This race just so happens to coincide with the 29th anniversary of his accident."


"This is a really important cause to me, and even though my brother has been rather bashful during this whole fundraising campaign, I want him to know how much he has inspired others, including myself. My main goal of the run is the raise awareness for the disabled children, so that they can have the greatest of opportunities in their sometimes-restricting lives. I think that they should have the incredible opportunities and encouragement that my brother was fortunate enough to have. I additionally want able-bodied people to have a greater understanding of these conditions and to perhaps show a little more compassion."


When I asked Ryan what he thought about his sister's endeavor he confided that he is a bit embarrassed about the publicity directed towards him, but that he is "extremely proud" of Kellyn. He is looking forward to traveling to Boston for the first time with some family members, to seeing Kellyn cross the finish line, and to attending a Red Sox and Rays baseball game.


To support Ryan and Kellyn and donate to the Team Hoyt marathon team, visit: www.crowdrise.com/runningforryan

Happy Happy.

Last night, my husband, his friend, Gray and I were driving home from a concert,

(Avett Brothers and Jimmy Buffett)

and we turned on Mumford  & Sons.

Gray announced that it was "his favorite,"

Kyle played "the car drum," which happened to be the door outside the car window,

and his friend and I sang.

It was a great moment.

During our performance, 

I couldn't help but think about how happy I was at that exact moment.

Volume up. Windows down. Singing loudly. 

And maybe it was that the image of vest-wearing, banjo players making me grin,

or perhaps we were still euphoric from dancing under fireworks,

but I like to think that at this point in my life,

and with all the hard work with fundraising and running,

that I was just happy.

As the two-week countdown begins to the final run in Boston,

I sat this morning and thought back to the previous 5 months.

The way my stomach dropped when I hit "send" to apply for Team Hoyt.

The tears that burst from my eyes when I received my acceptance letter.

The butterflies in my stomach when I called to tell Ryan.

How husband and I had to use our credit card to buy celebratory beers that night.

Realizing that I have absolutely no money to even get to Boston.

Realizing that fundraising itself is a full-time job.

Plugging in my sewing machine for the first time.

Teaching myself to make an apron, and following that by making 147.

Huffing and puffing through 2-milers, to finishing 20 with ease.

The hurt I felt when I discovered that my brother was slightly embarrassed.

The motivation it took to keep going. 

The bond that my father and I formed. 

The togetherness of all people who knew my family and then those who didn't.

The power I felt when I finally raised enough money to pay for my trip.

The friendships I've made with my teammates.

The hours I spent on the road instead of playing with my child.

And perhaps the greatest moment was realizing that it was me who was meant to do this.

Years ago, my mother told me that I came about 

because she and my father wanted to bring some light into the family after what happened.

But let's face it, 

I didn't exactly deliver that ray of sunshine every day during my youth.

However, I like to think now more than ever,

that this is the light that they were hoping for.

This experience has not been easy,

in fact, on many occasions I wanted to quit.

But through every pain in my knee, 

during every awful run that I cursed,

and every pang of guilt that I felt not spending with my son,

I learned that this light that I had to share was worth it all.

It is through this whole experience that I feel my life as of right now is complete.

And that makes me happy.

So, to Ryan:

You gave me the inspiration that I needed to make others aware.

This whole campaign was not about bringing attention to you,

but rather giving it to those who need it in your honor.

It warms my heart to know that through my efforts,

that other children will know that with perseverance, 

that they, too, can accomplish whatever they want in life.

To Mom and Dad:

Neither of you ever gave up in creating equal rights for Ryan,

while also keeping each of your children in mind.

Thank you for teaching these incredible values to our family.

I know you are proud,

and I'm happy to take over the torch that's been burning for 29 years now.

To all of you:

Thank you so very much for contributing to this cause,

and inevitably for your contribution to me and my family's hope and happiness.

Thank for you for the words of encouragement, support and kind words.

On April 16th, the anniversary of my brother's accident,

I will finish the Boston Marathon in honor of Ryan,

but it will most certainly not end the race for awareness and equality.

Thank you all again!

Here's a snapshot of this weekend's Parrotheads:

Hopping to Hopkington

Hello friends! 

Long time, no post.

In my defense, I've been running 20-milers up in here...

it leaves little room or desire to do anything other than treat myself to cheese fries and beer.

And that sadly leaves writing blogs in the little-desire department.

But I'm back and glad to report that I did make it 20 miles in Dallas,

regardless of infinite traffic, construction and hills. 

Spring is here!

And that means Easter is, too. 

Easter means different things to different people:

Some see it as a religious celebration...

Some perhaps are just happy that Lent is over...

Others are pleased that they have an excuse to eat Reese's Easter Eggs all day...

For my mother, it was a day to start spring cleaning

(which I once protested and  locked myself in my room to wholly celebrate Easter with my basket alone)

And for many of my friends, 

it's going to be a super fun holiday playing Easter Bunny for their sweet little chicks.

I can think of no other way to celebrate Easter,

than to make all those sweet chicks something to dye those eggs in.

Aprons, of course!

For the little chickens:

(Plenty of fabric for these... $10)

And the Mother Hens:

(Only two of these left! $15)

I have selected fabric left, 

so if you would like an apron get your order in quickly!!

Email: kellyn.gowen@gmail.com

I am currently only doing half aprons.

Child - $10

Regular Half - $15

Cinched Waist Half - $20 (my favorite)

So help me hop to Hopkington, folks!
Or I'll send this tag team to get you...

1 Month Countdown

In exactly 1 month and 1 hour,

I will be in Athlete's Village lining up with my corral to run the biggest race of my life, 

and more than likely concentrating on not wetting my compression pants.

What's so incredible to me

is that it will be the biggest race of everyone else's life as well. 

So all of these walks of life who are all running for different reasons,

will be cuddled up under some tent or lined up at some porta-potty,

sharing the exact same chill as everyone else:

I'm about to run a marathon.

So this will be my first,

and the person next to me may be on their 20th,

but running 26.2 miles isn't exactly natural.

We will all be pushing  our bodies to unnatural and powerful limits.

Whether someone's pace is 6 minutes or 15 minutes,

we all have the common goal of finishing, and finishing well.

At that point we put the 400+ miles it took to get to this point in our back pockets

and give this incredible trot our best. 

We'll set out past the start

and we won't stop pushing our bodies and minds until the finish. 

I can't tell you how excited/nervous/scared I am.

But I can tell you how proud I am to have gotten to this point.

A few months ago I could hardly run 3 miles without huffing and puffing.

I wouldn't even look ahead in my training because it would scare me.

Tomorrow, I set out for a 20-miler,

and I'm excited about it. 

20 miles is the furthest I'm set to go in my training.

So this means that if I can do it, 

Hal Higdon thinks I'm ready to run a marathon. 

And to me,

that is huge. 

So Hal,

I will make you proud tomorrow,

and most importantly,

I'll make me proud.

May the luck of the Irish be with me tomorrow! 

Regardless, I know how I'll be celebrating:

The Power of Do-Gooding

I learned one valuable lesson this week,

and I can tell you that as I mother, 

I did not enjoy the lesson one bit.

Apparently I am not Super Woman.

I repeat: I am not Super Woman.

Does this mean that I will ever not try to defy gravity, speed and time,

throw a birthday party, make 20 aprons, run a half marathon and host a fundraiser?

All. In. One. Week?

No, 

much to my husband's disappointment,

I will probably attempt to do some other outrageous event planning in the near future,

in which I will I obsess and go slightly insane over.

But, now that I look back on everything,

It was totally worth it.

Super powers or not.

Event #1 - Plan Toddler Birthday Party

I spent months planning, pinning and budgeting Gray's Cat in the Hat birthday party.

Pots, candy holders, gummy bears, mason jars, individual hats, pinwheels, cake, recipes, icing, cupcakes, stickers, shirts, and decorations. 

This wasn't going to be some thrown-together shindig.

And I will plan this extravagant of a fiesta again, oh yes.

However, I will not ever ever ever spend 12 hours baking a cake 

on my feet

the day before a race.

A cake that stood tall and proud on my counter,

only to completely flop over in my refrigerator.

Destroyed.

I sat in front of that refrigerator motionless until my husband finally did something about it.

I'm not even sure what I was thinking. 

Oh yes. That I was the spawn of supernatural mothering.

But before the race even arrived I had yet another event...

Event #2 - Make a Running Shirt

Why did I have to make a shirt?

Because the lovely company, who will remain nameless,

was apparently too busy "skipping and whistling" on Oak Street to follow through.

Thanks a lot, pals.

I only promised 6 sponsors that I would run with their logos on.

And even though I'm not huge corporation who would really bring them a ton of business,

I took a hell of a lot of pride in the work I put forth to get those sponsors.

On the bright side,

unsaid company never would have been able to pull off this gem:

Event #3: Mardi Gras Half Marathon

So I woke up on race day 

(off 4.5 hours of sleep due to a wild goose chase to find a knee brace 

since mine was discovered MIA at 10:30 pm)

laced my shoes,

threw on my proud homemade shirt

(which I learned iron-ons do not work on running shirts - sorry sponsors, I tried),

attempted to eat

(my house reeked of chicken livers - thanks, husband),

gulped a Gatorade,

and was out the door to attempt a PR.

(This is me in my bathroom where I spent the whole morning due to the chicken liver devastation)

And that blue head wrap?
That's a thank you to all of you:




Every person who donated,
bought and apron,
shared my blog,
gave me a shout out,
sponsored my run,
or just gave me a high-five
is on that bandana.

So I had my supporting do-rag.

I had my Gu Chomps.

I had my iPod.

I had my ladies.

And within 5 miles I was completely exhausted. 

It took every ounce of my energy to convince my mind to let me finish

and to push my body across that finish line.

I did not make my goal,

but I did PR with an official time of 1:54:35.

I suppose shaving 6 minutes off my second race was a bit ambitious.

BUT, I did promise, 

(yet another ambitious move)

that I would herkie across the finish line if enough people donated $13.

They didn't.

Actually, I didn't come close to my goal,

but I did one badass herkie for the people who did.

Actually two.

Apparently the photographers were unprepared for the amazingness that was the herkie

(Thanks to Sandi, Uncle John and Aunt Susie, Mom and Dad, Nikki and Nick, Mark and Val, Joe and Dana)

Event #5: The Party

From there, it was on to Gray's 3rd birthday party.

I was pooped.

And worse: we didn't know there was a festival next door.

So I was sore, tired and dehydrated

and stuck in traffic - late to my own child's birthday party. 

A party that was left to my husband to decorate.

You can imagine my panic.

But I got there,

and it was a glorious event. 

And that cake that made me sit on my kitchen floor and cry over?

I got my hands dirty (in icing, not dirt people), flopped it back together,

and gave it its rightful debut.

The kids didn't seem to mind one bit.

Especially not this guy:

Monday I spent somewhat recuperating from the longest weekend in my life.

I planned on doing the same on Tuesday.

After all, I had planned the upcoming fundraiser well in advance to allow myself rest.

Wrong.

Event #6: Make Aprons

Someone noted that they wanted aprons.

I thought I had retired from aprons.

A day before I would have rather sold my soul then to make another.

But I needed the money. 

I sort of want a Boston Marathon jacket as my bragging right.

There's also a certain 26.2 sticker that I'm tackily contemplating buying for my future car.

So I sat and sewed. 

And sewed. 

I sewed until I only had 10 minutes to spend with my husband before we split for 10 days.

Bed.

Wake.

Bye husband.

Board plane.

Land.

Hi Mom.

Straight to fundraiser.

Set up fundraiser.

Go to Walgreens to pick up replacement snuggie because Gray forgot his.

Take bath in sink - aka - do a little wipe down and spritz with perfume.

Load up car.

Strap on apron.

Event # 7: FUNDRAISE

It was a HUGE success. 

I really had absolutely no idea what would come of it.

Would I make $100? $1,000? 10 million dollars?

People didn't RSVP.

People RSVPed who didn't even show.

People came who I never would have expected.

The expected came and continued to blow my mind with their support.

It was the most fascinating point in my charity efforts.

All of my hard work really was paying off.

People responded, and responded well.

People wandered in and were contagiously wanting to help.

They wanted the story. 

The background.

My training tales.

And most importantly,

they wanted to help.

This was just what I needed to start the 1-month countdown to Boston.

I don't need to beat 4 hours,

or constantly worry about hills.

I'm running this marathon for something bigger than a pace or finishing time.

I want to take this opportunity to thank my brother for constantly being an inspiration.

I want to thank the Hoyts for accepting me to this team and allowing me this opportunity.

I want to thank my friends who have cheered me on thus far.

I want to thank my family, who knows just why I am doing this, 

and thus are my biggest supporters.

I want to thank my husband for being incredibly patient and encouraging,

and not complaining of my new sweaty and often unsexy activity.

And thanks to You for reading this.

If you feel that someone else would enjoy,

please share.

There's a love in this adventure that I hope everyone can experience in their own time.

Doing good to others will not give you super powers,

but it will give you a powerful sense of accomplishment and satisfy the soul.