Feeling Good

One of the greatest feelings in the world is the feeling of accomplishment. 

I'm not sure what it is about this week, 

but it has given me high hopes that this crazy path I chose to go down

is actually going to happen, and in good fashion.

When I was pregnant, the idea of juggling two kids, training and fundraising seemed doable.

Then I was all of a sudden juggling two kids, training and fundraising,

and I honestly felt that I wasn't going to be able to pull it off. 

Dollars weren't coming in like they did the first time around. 

People didn't seem as interested. 

My body was out of shape.

My head was tired.

I was trying to work out an impossible schedule. 

But somehow, and like most things generally do,

everything worked itself out. 

I started training smarter and exercising my core instead of just my legs. 

That turned two miles of slow jogging and walking 

to running long distances in sub 10-minute miles. 

This gave me a stronger body and a clearer mind,

and I believe that played a huge role in boosting my confidence in fundraising.

Now I am hoping to organize a fabulous fundraiser with a local company here in Memphis.

My fingers are crossed, but with how great things have been going, 

I imagine that everything is going to fall into place as it should. 

Today we enjoyed a beautiful run in 60 degree weather.

Special thanks to my sidekick girlfriend for keeping me entertained on the road.

As I find myself in this great happy place,

I hope that my teammates and anyone reading this finds theirs. 

Cheers, friends!

(And cheers to you, too, Ryan)

If you need help finding your happy place, 

I think you can find it here.

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!

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. 

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:

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.