Change of Plans

Life is full of surprises. 

Some are good.

Some are bad.

Some include not having a job after your maternity leave. 

Say what?!

It's true. 

It's complicated. 

But it happened.

This is not a bad thing. 

I mean, what mother doesn't want to spend all day with her new baby, right?

This is not a good thing.

Um, money ring a bell?

However, it's a new twist in my life, 

and hell if I'm not going to make lemonade out of lemons.

On second thought, let's make that a Lemon Drop.

SO, one of the drawbacks to not returning to work is that I will have to complete nearly all of my training runs with my pint-sized sidekick. 

But on the upside, I can now go to the 5:45pm Boot Camp class and not wake up at 4:30am for the 5:30 class.

On the subject of training with my sidekick, 

I'm getting further into my training, 

which means that the runs are getting longer,

and she's not getting any lighter. 

I had someone comment to me the other day, "Isn't running with a stroller easier?"

The short answer is "No."

My answer is "You see that hill over there? Here is my stroller with the 30 lb carseat strapped to it, and a 10 lb baby in it. Now, go run up that hill while keeping your body upright. Then try running back down that hill at a steady pace. Oh yeah, you should do that about 10 more times. Aaaand I'm pretty sure I forgot to pump the tires. Then you tell me."

Upside to stroller training? 

My arms got pretty chubbytastic whilst pregnant. 

So this will quickly eliminate that issue.

The days also seem to not be getting any warmer. 

Now, the problem used to be that it took longer to get the babe bundled up than the actual run took. 

On what has become a "typical" 30-degree day,

my wardrobe includes running tights, long sleeve, windbreaker, scarf for breathing, two ear warmers, and gloves.

For my friend: footie flannel jammies, fleece baby bunting, hat, and four blankets strategically placed in stroller so that no wind touches skin.

Now that runs are getting longer, the time isn't much of a concern. 

HOWEVER, you have a newborn baby possibly exposed to the cold longer. 

This is where this bad boy came into play:

It has just occurred to me that I likely look like a homeless person with all that plastic,

but at least my little friend is warm and unscathed from the frosty elements.

So you see, there are some changes... but last I checked, change is good. 

Change is also challenging, and boy do I enjoy a challenge. 

So much so that I ran my 6-miler today in record stroller-pushing time. 

Nice try, world. Nothing's going to hold me back. 

BOSTON IN 82 DAYS!

Ryan's Eulogy

Today, just over 8 months later,

we will finally be laying Ryan to rest.

I was extremely humbled to be the one to give the eulogy at his funeral,

and while it was tough to write and ever harder to read,

it still gives me comfort to re-read it.

A lot of people who couldn't be at the funeral asked for me to share it,

so I thought today to be the appropriate day to do just that.

When something unexpected like this happens, I imagine most people think of the should-a, could-a, would’as. And I no doubt found myself doing the same thing when I found out about Ryan.

‘I should not have pestered him on the way to school in the mornings.‘

‘I could have been more supportive of his beliefs.’

‘I should have never said anything about how he finished only half of his beverages every time.’

But the fact of the matter is that I was his sister, and he was my brother. We pinched and hit. He chased me with spit bubbles, and I made fun of him when he used to wear four watches on one arm.

To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know anything was different with Ryan until I was much older. It’s the reason that when I started crawling, I chose to do so with one arm and one leg. It’s the reason that I challenged him to WWF wrestling matches. We didn’t treat him as a little boy who was wounded in an accident at a young age. He was just our brother, and our family didn’t see him any differently that.

When we rode bikes to school, he scooted right beside us. When us girls were cheerleading, he kept the team stats. We tortured him by making him wear makeup, and he always hid the chocolate donuts from us in the kitchen cabinets. We all packed in the car like Griswald’s and traveled from sea to sea. He was just one of the Shuck kids.

It wasn’t until his high school graduation that I realized just how special Ryan was. Those ceremonies are dreadful for any kid, but when his name was called, the thousands of people that were in the ceremony hall all stood in one swoop to honor him in a standing ovation. I was overwhelmed. I had been in the presence of someone so truly spectacular my whole life. How did I miss this? So I started to pay more attention.

Ryan’s strength is something that I don’t think any of us will ever know. We can all lift weights, and run and dance, but his feats were beyond anything we could fathom.

He not only learned to play video games with one hand, but he was the best. No one could beat him. He even learned to play with the Nintendo play pad, which sometimes required both hands and feet. And he still somehow managed to beat our scores.        

With a few minor additions to a vehicle, he learned to drive. He even coordinated his own carpool, taking me and my friends to school every day.

He stunned us all when he said he wanted to live at the college dorms at University of Tampa. He was the only one of us kids who didn’t find his way back to my parents’ house after college. He went on to rent, and then to own his own condo.

From there, our shy brother somehow became the Mayor of Soho. He was so active and so proud of his community. Every time I was in town to visit, he would take me on a walk to his favorite spots. On our journey, everyone, and I mean everyone, would shout, “Hey Ryan!” And I would ask, “Who was that?” and after he cackled his most contagious laugh, he would reply, “I have no idea.”

We seemed to rotate Daily Eats and The Deck – both places I swear he single-handedly kept in business. Once we had loaded up on burgers, fries or pizza (Ryan’s Holy trinity of food), we would head over to MacDinton’s, The Dubliner, or SoHo Tavern, where he would famously only drink half of his Coors Light before opening a fresh one.

During Happy Hour, he’d also defeat the system by visiting every beer station and hiding all of the beer bottles in his scooter basket.

 He truly had no fear. His fearlessness gave him the strength to voice his opinions, something he probably didn’t have much of growing up in a house with mostly women. His rants and comments were bold, and often very publicly voiced on Facebook. And when we’d say something to him about it, he would just shrug and cackle.

 His views were a most admirable quality about him. He saw life in a different way than all of us, and my most favorite memory of Ryan will forever be how he was able to capture that on camera. He saw beyond a person, place or thing. He saw beauty and emotion, and was able to portray that with one photograph. Perhaps that was the best part of not being able to move quickly. He was able to truly sit back and enjoy the show.

 And enjoy he did. Ryan was rarely seen without a smile on his face. It was infectious, and this is why I assume is he was so popular in his community. He challenged people to realize that having differences didn’t mean being so different. That challenges are only what you make of them.

I don’t think he had any idea of the effect on people. It is positively the reason that I grew up and didn’t feel the need to judge anyone. The reason that I have friends of all shapes, sizes and colors. The reason that my children will grow up to be the same way. The reason my son from the moment he was mobile, would crawl and jump onto Ryan’s lap. He didn’t see a disability of any kind; he saw a loving uncle, who just had some sweet wheels and a horn.


That mindset alone brought on a huge shock to Ryan when I did the run for him last year. He gave me his blessing to publicize his life story to the world. And truthfully, I don’t think he was prepared for the overwhelming response that came our way. In the beginning he felt pitied, and he went months without speaking to me. But I knew I had to continue on because no one pitied him in the least; that race and that fundraiser was about overcoming obstacles, and Ryan was the king of them all. I may have run the miles, but it was he who lapped me several times over in the marathon of life.

Team Hoyt’s slogan is “Yes You Can,” but Ryan’s is “Yes He Did.”

And that’s how we should leave today. Ryan’s life was incredibly short, but not one moment went by that wasn’t fulfilled. What takes some of us a lifetime to achieve, he was able to do in 31 years – and that should be celebrated. He taught us all so much in that short time, and now it is our duty to keep his spirit alive. We must be strong and never second guess our strength. We must be kind and put differences aside so that we may learn from one another. We should act spontaneously and go places we never thought we could go. We should never give up and always continue to challenge ourselves.

We should wipe away our tears because Ryan would think that this was lame. I’m sure we’re all getting a few grunts right now from wherever he is. And lastly, we should drink copious amount of Coors Light, but immediately toss when the Rockie’s lose their blue.

Thank you all for coming. Your love, support and friendship to Ryan will always mean the world to us.

Donate to the Hoyt Foundation

New Training Plan

Do you know what temperature it was at 5:15 this morning?

I do. 

It was cold. 

Seriously cold. 

At 5:15 this morning I was out the door to make in time for my first day back at boot camp.

(If you're wondering, "Does Kellyn have a black eye?" The answer is "No. That is the kiss of parenthood,")

I know some of you up north think that that's warm at this point. 

But that is cold as a mother in Memphis. 

Anyway, this is all part of my new training plan. 

After a lot of thought, I reached out to Sgt. Tony about coming back to his boot camp class. 

My run training has been going well, but I don't want to push my luck.

Every good runner knows that good running doesn't come from running alone. 

Cross training is essential to safe running, improving time, and in my case, bouncing back from having a baby and running a marathon 5 months after. 

A few days of strength and core training mixed with a few running days.

No brainer, right? 

Well, that's where the five year old and newborn come into the mix. 

This was not going to be easy. 

At. All.

I actually was supposed to go last Friday, but honest to god, could not get out of bed. 

Here goes my Boot Camp morning schedule:

4:30am - Wake newborn and nurse

5am - Put newborn in bed with Husband and hope she continues to sleep. 

Get dressed. Start car - it's cold outside.

5:15am - Hop in car and drive to Boot Camp

5:30am - Boot Camp starts

6:30am - Boot Camp ends. 

6:38am - Get home. Pump milk. Drink water like it's going out of style

7am - Grab baby out of bed so husband can get a little bit more sleep. Wake 5 year old. 

7:15am - Serve breakfast to toddler. Hop in shower.

7:30am - Get dressed. Cover up eye bags and apply makeup.

7:45am - Eat my own breakfast while making lunches. 

8am - Nurse newborn again. 

8:15 - Bark at 5 year old to brush teeth, feed fish, grab stuff for school.

8:25 - Out the door for school.

That is 4 hours of non-stop business. 

And some people will not have opened one eye. 

But that's simply what it's going to take to get this done, and done well. 

So no, it won't be easy. 

Early rising. 

Rushing here and there.

Doing jumping jacks with nursing tatas. 

(Seriously, the most miserable thing I've ever done.)

Not lounging with my kid in the morning. 

But it's going to be worth the hassle when I cross the finish line on Boyslton St. 

It will be worth people learning more about people with disabilities.

It will be worth helping those people with disabilities. 

I wouldn't be doing this at all without the incentive of this great team and their message. 

Not joking. 

I mean, I enjoy running and working out, 

but I also enjoy lounging on my couch cuddled with my kids and drinking coffee.

This team. This race. This cause.

They really do mean the world to me.

Knowing that this is making my brother happy wherever he is. 

That's the icing on the cake. 

I may be crazy, but I'm making a difference. 

To donate to the Hoyt Foundation: Click Here

Goodbye, 2013

You know how people can recall any year when referring to a certain situation?

Like, remember when Lucy broke her arm? It was 1974, and I got my first car....

Or, It was 1967 and we took our first vacation to the Grand Canyon.

???

Not me. It's impressive that I remember the year of my birth. 

I think that it's because my mind doesn't see things in black and white. 

More like colors and shapes. 

All of that changed in 2013. 

What I experienced with my brother's passing was very black and white. 

The phone call. 

The conversation with my dad. 

The flight home. 

The wake. 

The funeral. 

It plays through my mind like a broken record, which surprisingly hasn't stopped playing. 

Dont' get my wrong. There were incredible moments in 2013, too. 

I was awarded Top 40 Under 40 in Memphis. 

I ran like a champ 7 months into my pregnancy. 

I birthed a baby the exact way that I wanted to. 

I watched my toddler bloom into an incredibly imaginative boy.

All of these are noteworthy, 

but chances are I won't remember that they happened in 2013. 

(And don't think that my child's birth counts - I mix up Gray's birth year AND day all the time. Not kidding.)

My personality is fueled with optimism, and I know it will get it back. 

2014 is going to be my year. 

A year dedicated to the betterment of the lives around me, which will in turn better my own. 

2014 will be a year of dedication. 

I'm not sure how or why I haven't been able to fundraise quite like I did two years ago, but I will dedicate myself to finding the remedy. Disability awareness is so important to me, and I'll see to it that people become aware and join me.

2014 will be a year of motivation. 

I can't think of any more motivating event than that of training for a marathon. The amount of people who have called my running an inspiration to begin themselves is overwhelming. 

I love it and hope I can reach more people.

2014 will be a year of loving. 

Is there anything more contagious?

2014 will be a year of celebrating my brother's life, and not mourning it. 

Each mile I run will absolutely involve thinking about him and the life he lived. But from now on, the focus will be how I can take the lessons I learned from him on strength and persistence and pass them onto others. 

Yes, 2014 will be a good year. 

Click Here to Donate! 

(I promise it will make you feel like a million bucks.)

Training With A Newborn

Training with a newborn has been... um... challenging.

Just like doing anything with an infant, there are times where I feel like a super woman.

Like when my child is super awesome during an adult event and everyone is all "Wow, you have such a good baby!" and I'm like, "Yeah, it's because I totally know what I'm doing and could write a book."

And then there's moments where I feel like a totally incompetent loser of a mom.

Like when we're leaving said adult event and my infant is screaming unconsolably while we have to walk by what seems like thousands of people to get to the car. And meanwhile your other kid wets his pants and you need to find a bathroom without him seeing that Santa is seriously right. next. to. the. bathroom. And then you realize that your infant has lost her socks, and it's 30 degrees, and the blanket you had to bring because it's the cutest just doesn't cover as much as it should.

Those moments I'm like, "Yeah, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing."

(pop.... that was me opening a bottle of wine.)

My training has been similar to this.

There have been ups, like when I was only 5-weeks postpartum and did 5 miles at a 13-minute pace in "feels like" 8 degree icy weather. I felt like a champion.

Then there are moments when you're supposed to be speed walking 3 miles and this happens:



And then you find yourself pulling over and nervously nursing your baby in front of a total strangers house on their sidewalk. And your Run Keeper is still talking you, "Average Pace: 15 minutes...." "Average Pace: 18 minutes..." "Average Pace: 20 minutes."

And while I really want to scream at my phone and the talking exercise app and kick said neighbors garbage can, I knew that wouldn't do any good.

Because just like parenting, sometimes you just need to take a step back, take a deep breath, and re-evaluate. So, we made lemonade out of lemons:



Cuteness alert:



And our next training walks were a success:



My Run Keeper now congratulates me on my daily PRs.

So, yes, just as everyone and their mother warned me about when I said I was going to train for a marathon just weeks after having a baby, training with a newborn is challenging. It's hard. But as my husband reminds me frequently, I knew it wasn't going to be easy.

And really, I don't do anything that is convenient or easy, which is why I found myself at that adult party half naked nursing my child on a balcony because I had to wear a tight dress that zipped up the back. It was far cuter than the dresses that buttoned down the front.

But it's all good, because how else would I learn new things?

The next challenge on the list: speeding up and teaching my body to totally run again. I only have four months to figure it out... oh yeah, and raise $4,025. I can handle the milage, but your donation would be incredibly appreciated! Click HERE to donate to my crowdrise page!

Boston Marathon Countdown: 127 days. 

It's Go Time

The fundraising page is up,
the training plans have been drafted,
the baby has been birthed...
and now it's time to get serious.

It took me a second to get things together for several reasons:

I was exhausted after the Running4Ryan 5k, and not from walking 3.1 miles. After Ryan passed and it was discussed that the race would be just months after, I thought it would be a great way to process everything. It certainly made for positive thinking; however, once the event was over, it became even more of a reality that my brother and friend was gone.

I'm still trying to figure out what happened, why it happened, and how on earth one goes on making peace with a situation like this. I thank everyone for your participation in the event, and please excuse my absence in showing my thankfulness. All the Shucks truly appreciate it.







I was pregnant. Maybe it was working 50+ hours a week, or maybe it was truly pregnancy brain, but the last few months of my pregnancy were like I was living on another planet. I couldn't remember anything. I could hardly keep up with meals for my family, let alone setting up a fundraising page and actively trying to raise dollars and spread awareness.



I was birthing a baby. Nellie Ruth knew that I would likely need those extra three weeks of training, and surprised us on November 4th. She was quick and relativiely painless, and I thank her for being ahead of schedule. (She gets that from me.) I also promised myself that I would dedicate a few weeks after her arrival to only her and no Team Hoyt or Running for Ryan. We have had a lovely few weeks of snuggles and obsessing.





But now I'm back and ready to blow my teammates out of the water in the fundraising department. I got second place last time and was honored. But let's be honest, who wants second when there's first?

This year is going to be different for several reasons:

I am not training quite as long, and apparently running after birth is like completely starting over again. I have started training, in that I am officially removing myself from the couch for an hour a day and walking. I am not in the business of injuring myself, so baby steps will be taken, and taken seriously. I will start running again when I feel that I can. If this means I walk from the 26.2 from Hopkington to Bolyston, so be it.

I will not be making aprons for personal fundraising. I have no clue where the energy came from to make and send 175 aprons two years ago while training, fundraising and working 40 hour weeks. Luckily for The Gowens, we are now both employed and can afford the trip this year. However, I may be making a few things to sell for the foundation. Stay tuned...

This year will be incredibly emotional for me. Not that it wasn't before - if you remember, quite a few of my runs involved me practicing breathing through sobs. Running is powerful, and running for an inspirational team is extra powerful, but running for an inspirational team with a deceased brother on my mind is bound to stir up some serious emotions. Not to mention that I'll likely be sleep deprived.

Here's what's not going to change:

I am going to fundraise like crazy for something that I absolutely believe in.

So many of you have already helped so much by either making a donation to Shriners in lieu of flowers for Ryan's funeral, making the trip to support our family, participating in some capacity for the Running for Ryan 5k, or simply sending thoughts and prayers.

Trust me when I say that I am so appreciative.

If you wish to extend your charity, click this link. 
All of these funds will go to the Hoyt Foundation and will additionally put me in the running for first place trophy...
both of which are awesome.

Let's do it for Ryan.
Let's do it for the Hoyts.
Together we can truly make a difference. 

6 Months To Go... And Still Pregnant.

The 118th Boston Marathon is in exactly 6 months. 

That's 181 days. 

My current training plan includes the following:

Leg Lifts - I occasionally lift my legs from the floor onto a pillow onto my coffee table.

Scissor Kicks - I must perform said move to get out of bed, off the couch, out of a chair, etc.

Sprints - Every 45 minutes I move very quickly to the ladies room.

Runs at Midnight - or rather, midnight runs to my pantry for mini powdered donuts.

Squats - Any sitting requires a low seat with knees facing outward. 

It's a tough workout, and it involves a lot of grunting.

I'm a relatively small person carrying around a 30-pound melon.

Not that I'm some sort of special case, 

but this is a lot of harder than it looks:

So my training is not exactly Hal Higdon approved, but I'm 9 months pregnant. 

I had a dream of running up until the day I delivered, but that ship has sailed. 

And I felt bad about it for about 2 seconds. 

Which brings me to a few frequently asked questions:

Q: Are you seriously running the Boston Marathon this year?

A: Yes.

Q: (more like statement): But, you're pregnant.

A: Interesting fact; pregnancy is not a permanent condition. 

Q: Won't you have a newborn baby?

A: Yes. I'll likely strap said child to my back during training runs.

(silence)

Just kidding - I have a jogging stroller with awesome new fabric and a weather cover. 

Q: Are you going to have enough time to train?

A: Um, I have no idea. I hope so. 

Q: But aren't you worried about your uterus exploding?

A: Not really. I feel I have a strong uterus. 

Q: Don't newborn babies take up a lot of time?

A: Yes. So do husbands, four-year-olds, jobs... We'll be busy. Are you not busy?

I hope this clears up a lot of confusion. 

Bottom line: I have no idea how this will turn out. 

My goals include:

Birth baby

Begin walking soon after birthing baby

Eventually begin jogging

At some point begin running

Feel comfortable enough to start training

Run Boston Marathon. 

That may or may not happen as planned. 

And I'm totally OK with that. 

A few things to keep in mind:

(I really like lists these days, as I have severe pregnancy brain and it's the only way I communicate)

I am not addicted to running like most runners. 

I have run this race before.

I am running this race for my brother, 

so if I have to walk it and finish well past the time that they actually close down the course, 

I will be completely satisfied with that. 

This is my race, and I'm really excited about it. 

I'm also really excited to have this baby,

and finding a way to balance the two, plus a husband and four-year-old,

well, it's just going to have to be Team Gowen's newest challenge. 

We're tough people.

Thanks again to everyone for their support the past 5 months. 

This is going to be one hell of an emotional roller coaster for me personally,

but per usual, I'm ready to take on what I feel will be another great learning experience.