Week 2: Seeking Light in Darkness and the Gift of “Just One Minute”

Welcome Winter Solstice

Happy Winter Solstice! And so we begin the gradual reversal from longer periods of darkness to longer periods of light. While it seems like a long way off, I feel the energy that comes with the promise of just a little more light every day. I will return to this idea in a bit. As I type this post, I am sitting in front of our Christmas tree listening to a random Christmas playlist. It is only 7pm but it has been dark for almost two plus hours.  Thanks to my iPod, I am enjoying Andre Bocelli, John Denver, Peter Paul and Mary, pieces from the Nutcracker, and a many other artists and musical pieces. It is with gratitude and amazement that I think how technology changes the way we experience living. Thank you, Steve Jobs.

While week 2 of training is not yet finished, I am sharing some of my reflections today, because like most, I have a busy weekend ahead with holiday celebrations. I am a firm believer in keeping with routines. I did not want to miss my posting for week-two because I have started to consider this part of my training routine. It is documenting my journey and my thinking along the way and I have certainly been thinking a lot this week. Running seems to gives me ample time for my chaotic thoughts to come together-at least I feel like they come together with a sort of clarity. In fact, I am finding it quite interesting as I attempt to put these thoughts into words and how these words emerge into a sort of random post.

Beginning with Gratitude

In keeping with a “first things first” approach, let me begin with a big THANK YOU to all who have so generously contributed to my fundraising efforts. My goal is to raise $10,000 by the time I cross the finish line in Boston on April 16, 2012. My short term goal was to reach $6,200 by Christmas (marking a 10K). I am pleased to share that as of today I have raised almost $7,000 for Dana Farber to support Cancer Research. I have many generous family members, friends and co-workers to thank for this. So THANK YOU! Together, we are making a difference. I am reminded at the power of one dollar and one mile at a time. We can get there one step at a time!

Sometimes it is going to be Hard

Ok, now on to other random thoughts for the week. I have almost finished week 2 of my official 18 week training and countdown to the Boston Marathon 2012 and to be honest it has been a bit of a rough start. I have 16 miles logged so far this week, a spin class and one weight training workout. What remains is a 12 mile run on Christmas Eve morning and then I will be settling in for the day to simply enjoy the magic of the holidays with the company of family and friends. Why has this week been rough you might ask? Well, I am not sure I fully recovered from last week’s double ear infection.  For those that know me, I am not one to complain. In fact, I often just suck it up. Some may even say I am overly optimistic. However, so far this week I really felt each and every mile I logged was a challenge and not in the inviting challenging kind of way, but in the “I am counting the minutes and sometimes seconds until I am finished” kind of challenge. So this week I did not have any of the “runner’s high” feelings. Perhaps my endorphins were on vacation.

Like many of my teammates, I kept at it this week because I am running for a greater purpose and that is what helped me through. I found myself thinking of my dear friend Matt and all he and his family endured while his little nephew Josh was sick. It was never easy for them and yet, so courageously they faced each and every day. Even when they did not know if they had the strength to do so, they managed to find it.  This week I found strength and inspiration in their courage and commitment to Josh and to each other. I was reminded that some things are simply hard. I am not trying to compare running when tired or not feeling well to dealing with cancer, but rather trying to highlight the lessons I have learned from those I love who have endured cancer and the lessons, strength and inspiration that I have learned from their courage. This week for me it was pushing through even when it is hard to do so. I reminded myself that we don’t train to run under perfect conditions and when we feel 100%. We train to run under whatever conditions exist and this means some days we run when we are not at our best or when we don’t know if we can. It is really reflective of life. How many days are we really at 100%?

Just One Minute

So let me get back to thinking about winter solstice and our journey from darkness to light with one extra minute of light each day. Only a minute of light each day one might ask “how much is that really?” Well, running this week when I did not want to run and also pushing through when I felt I did not have much in me helped me recognized and appreciate the gift of a minute. As I ran this week I was looking at the time constantly and for anyone that does this when running while tired you know a minute can feel like an eternity. In fact, I would suggest that anyone that does not think a minute is a long time, spend some time on a treadmill. Sprint for minute intervals and I am sure you will have a new appreciation for how much time really exists within the context of just one minute. I know I do.

I don’t mean to scare you. I can run for a lot of minutes on most days. This week I simply felt overly aware of how much space and time existed in every minute due to my own exhaustion. This changed my thinking about Winter Solstice and the power of each minute we will be getting of daylight each day. It was not just a minute. It was like seeing and experiencing in slow motion our journey to light. This small measurement of time had taken new meaning for me. This was pretty exciting and I welcomed it with a new appreciation of an extra minute each day. We have turned the corner and while our journey remains long, the promise of lighter days is in the distant future. So as I try to kick it in and push to breathless as I finish a run, I am now thinking it is that amount of daylight we will be gaining each day and for that I am grateful.

Seeking Light

 From thinking about Winter Solstice and the dark days we are now experiencing, it is also not surprising to me that this is also a time of year where we celebrate light and this is something that we see across religions and cultures. The common thread: seeking and celebrating light in spite of darkness. There is power in paradox for sure and this is something that I have thought about on my runs this week. It began with the recognizing that sometimes the running is simply hard. Then I made my way to the gift of “one minute” and then finally my thinking really moved to thinking about what it means to seek light especially in the absence of it. In my thinking “light” was about daylight but really became a metaphor for hope. I thought a lot about my dear friend Matt and his family’s struggle with cancer and ultimately the loss of a beautiful little boy named Josh. I also thought about the many people and families that have been impacted by cancer that I have come to know, especially these last months throughout my fundraising efforts. I am overwhelmed with the enormity of the collective wreckage that cancer has left in the lives of so many. Cancer makes me angry. Yet, Dana Farber makes me hopeful. Cancer is darkness. Dana Farber’s envisioning and working towards a world without cancer-now that is not only a light, it is a purposeful act in seeking light.

This week as I ran and thought about this journey from darkness to light, I also thought about how until there is a cure for cancer many have to live in the metaphorical and often very real darkness and only hold onto the promise of light-a possible cure. How do they do it I wondered? How do you endure what at times seems impossible? How do you believe when you do not have answers? How do you envision light in its absence? These are rhetorical questions I asked myself all week as I pushed through runs in which I really did not want to be running. At times, I was not sure that I had the energy required to complete the 5 or 6 miles I need to log each day. I would look at the clock and see I probably had 40 more minutes to go. My friend Doubt would arrive and try to convince me I can just stop. “I can run another day”, I would think to myself. Then I would see my own reflection in the glass across the gym. I would tell myself, “I am stronger than Doubt” and I would keep going.

Just Don’t Stop

I am not sure I will ever truly understand how families find the courage when faced with cancer. However, I will continue to draw strength and inspiration from their stories of endurance and courage. I will also continue to work hard to honor their strength and courage one mile run at a time and one dollar raised at a time. This week I responded to my dear friend Doubt and Tired by simply listening to the only answer I could find when I felt exhausted. It was an answer that was inspired by those for whom I run and who exemplify strength; it said “just run for another minute or another song.” When that minute or song passed I did it again. Or as Phil Riley would say, “just don’t stop.” I would repeat this mantra.  I did not focus on the 40 or so more minutes I needed to run. I did it minute by minute and song by song. I did get through the miles so far this week. While I was glad to show Doubt and Tired I could do more than she thought, I was now ready to hang out with my friend Tired.

Be a Light

While this week I found strength, courage and inspiration from those who have dealt first hands with the crimes of cancer, I cannot even begin to understand the enormity of their pain, their challenges, their grief, their daily struggle, their desire for one more eternal minute with a loved one, and their desire for light in a time of darkness. It is in the depth of my not understanding where these families gain their inner strength that I am reminded of the importance of the work and the training I am doing. I am not just running to finish the Boston Marathon in 2012; I am training to raise $10,000 or more to support an effort that strives to bring light to many families. Imagine a world without cancer. That is some amazing light. How can we not all want to work relentlessly for that? For today, I will simply end with “this little light of mine; I am going to let it shine.”

Wishing everyone a light filled holiday, whatever it is that you celebrate!

With Gratitude,

Kerry D

Week 1: The Magic of Morning Moonlight, Learning to Listen and My First Team Run

Week one of my journey to the Boston Marathon is officially finished. It certainly was not what I expected, but I guess like life, it does not always unfold as we would have planned or hoped. However, we do what we can with what we have been given and make the most of it-even if that means facing a road block right out of the gate. I apologize that this post will likely be longer. I hope to be able to make time for shorter posts throughout the week, however, this week got away from me when a double ear infection arrived with full force. I am going to try to recap as best I can within one post.

The Magic of Morning Moonlight

My start was great! It began Monday morning when somehow I managed to wake before my alarm even went off. It was probably about 4:45am and the moonlight of a lingering night sky seemed to enter my room with the gravitational pull of an invitation accompanied with excitement for what it might hold. It reminded me of when I was beginning my data collection for my dissertation and I had to get up extremely early to visit schools for observations and I had a very similar feeling. It was the sense of “arrival” at my starting point but also recognizing that a long and arduous road was waiting for me. My response to the magical moonlight that was calling me from the comfort of my sea of blankets into a day that had yet begun, was a “let’s go! I am ready.”

It is then I begin what is an autopilot routine. I get out of bed. I grab my keys which I have strategically placed next to my bed so I can start my car. For those that know me, I really am not a fan of being cold. The warm car in the morning helps make the ride to the gym more bearable. I brush my teeth, I change into running clothes, I grab my clothes for work and a Gatorade to hydrate a bit, and then I am on my way to the gym. This all takes about 10 minutes which is just enough time for car to warm up. Most days I think I am still actually half a sleep.

As I leave the house I am reminded that winter is near. We have not yet experienced her harshness, but the cold early morning hints that she is not far away. I am now more awake with the help of a few deep breaths of the morning air which I can also see exiting as I exhale. Taking purposeful deep breaths is really a rejuvenating act-something I have learned from running so why not jump start you day with a few deliberate breaths aimed at rejuvenation.  There is something magical about the early morning. There is a silent, stillness that calls to me like a blank canvas calls to a painter. It is a day that has been untouched by the hustle and bustle that I know will soon hijack the beauty that is held in this very moment. It is this very reason that I often wake early to work out. It is a time that has not already been double booked. It is a time, if I choose, that can be my own and for the next 18 weeks, it will be time dedicated to my training for the Boston Marathon with the Dana Farber Marathon Team.

As I drove to the gym, I very quickly shattered the silence and stillness of this magical morning and cranked my radio with some tunes that would help jump start my body so I would be ready to run when I arrived at the gym at about 5:20am. In my short ride, I listed to the music but was guided by the moonlight. I kept thinking that while I drove to the gym alone, I had over 500 Dana Farber Teammates who also were embarking on this journey today. In that moment, I felt like we “the team” were this collective force that were working behind the scenes of a still and untouched morning. We were taking the day on our terms and doing what we can to make this world a better place- dreaming a world without cancer and one run at a time.

I logged 5 miles on the treadmill Monday morning which was a great start for my training and also my day. For those that run, I am sure you know what I mean. I am a better person on days when I have managed to get my workout in first. As the day went on, I kept experiencing this pounding pressure in my ears. It had been bothering me for a week or so, but it was getting worse. The pressure had turned to pain. “Oh no,” I thought. “I don’t have time to deal with this. I continued through my day and actually went to a 6pm spin class at the gym. I know two workouts in one day may seem a bit much for some, but I love the Monday night class and I figured it would be a good cross training workout. It was a great workout; however I knew my ears were going to be a problem. Not only did I start to experiencing shooting pain in my ears, I also was pretty dizzy. This was ok on the bike because I just closed my eyes. The bike would not go anywhere. However, I worried what this would mean for running.

Learning to Listen

My first challenge on this journey to the Boston Marathon was to learn to listen to my body. This is something that many of us do not do to well. As athletes, whatever our sport may be, we train ourselves to push through, “no pain, no gain” as they say.  We know in our minds that sometimes rest is the best antidote and the fastest way back, but yet we still find ourselves pushing through in hopes that our injury or issue will just take care of itself. Well, this week I felt like it was too early in training to force myself to push through. I have been working really hard leading up to this week so my base was strong. After a trip to the doctors, I was not going to keep running with the ear infections and balance issues which I knew could potentially prolong my recovery. I was not happy taking a few days of in week one, but re-framed it for myself that I was learning early in training to “listen.” It was not a critical run and a few days would not set me back. This journey is both physical as well as mental and I need to listen to both my mind and body. While rest is welcomed when we choose it, when our body tells us we need it, we do not always want to listen. This week, I had lesson # 1: you must listen to your body even when it is not part of the plan.

Saturday: My First Team Run

Getting to Saturday and being strong enough to run 10 miles was what motivated me and helped justify the extra rest days during the week. I found myself bargaining all week, “please let me feel strong enough for our first team run.” Saturday morning arrived and I was ready for the challenge. We were meeting in Lexington at 8am which is about 40 minutes from Haverhill. I set my alarm early because I wanted to eat something and get there with plenty of time. Again, I woke before my alarm, tired but filled with excitement.

When I arrived, I was greeted by so many friendly Dana Farber Team members and volunteers. It was so nice to feel part of a team and see others who would also be training. I have always been a solo runner or at most running with one other person. Going out for a run on a Saturday morning with a large group is such a wonderful experience. Before the run, a member of the Dana Farber Team talked about the critical research that is being done. This is a great reminder of why we are doing what we are doing.

Then they highlighted some of our teammates who have already raised $8,000 and $10,000. Ok, I must be honest. At this point my competitive nature kicked in. I found myself thinking, I really need to step it up a notch. Although, I also reminded myself that I have raised just about $5k which is amazing!!! The generosity of my family, friends, and coworkers has been so inspiring to me. It reminds me of the collective power we have when we all give what we can. It does not matter how big or small, but the collective contribution becomes a force of its own- a statement about what matters. So “thank you” to those who have so generously contributed already! It is because of you, I am half way to my goal of raising $10,000-to honor Josh and the many others impacted by cancer while supporting Dana Farber ultimate goal-a world without cancer. Thank you for helping me make a strong statement about what collectively matters to us.

The run itself was beautiful. We had the choice to run 8 or 10 miles. It was an out and back run so those doing 8 miles could turn back at mile 4. “Great,” I thought, if I was feeling bad, I would have the choice to run less. Of course, I also knew that when I arrived at mile 4, I would likely push on. If I had not been running the distances that I had, 8 miles would be fine. However, my mileage was higher so I knew turning around would only be taking the easier road, which is not my choice of roads to travel. When the run began, we ran for a while on the roads but for the most part the course was on trails in Lexington. I started the run in my own world. I was with the group, but really just trying to settle into my own pace. This is always my challenge when running with others. After being sick, I wanted to find a comfortable pace and just stick with it. I wanted to be sure that I did not tucker out too quickly. I had given in to rest earlier in the week, however today, I was running 10 miles. I knew it may be a negotiation with my body which was weakened from having been sick, but I could rest later in the day. My compromise was slow and steady pace. I needed to get lost in the cadence of my own breathing.

It was so nice to be outdoors. It was brisk, but the sun provided enough warmth that it was a very comfortable day to run. In fact, it was one of those runs that when you took a breath that it felt as if you breathing in life itself-which is I guess what we do when we breathe. However, I mean it in a Henry David Thoreau kind of way by experiencing the very essence of life in the context of nature. Perhaps the trails and Lexington landscape influenced this. The volunteers even commented on how great the day was and warned with a wisdom that suggested this was not their first year with the Dana Farber Team, of less enjoyable training days that would come. Today, I would embrace with gratitude all that this day had to offer.   

Speaking of volunteers, they are absolutely amazing. It is so great to have water and Gatorade stops along a longer run. However, it was not only the water and Gatorade that helped to fuel me. It was the exchanges that took place. As runners we thanked the volunteers for being out there for us and they thanked us for being out there running. It was really feeling part of a community. I met a number of teammates with whom I am sure I will be getting to know over the next few months. However, for this week I simply enjoyed meeting them and their company on the run. I did the 10 Miles and felt great! One week of training down, 17 weeks to go! Bring it on.

Boston Marathon 2012: Here I come

Monday December 12, 2011 officially begins my 18 weeks of training for the Boston Marathon. While I have been doing quite a bit of running, it adds a level of seriousness when the “official” training schedule begins. I am very excited to embark on such an incredible journey and hope to share it with you through this blog. I am training with the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge Team and it is my goal to raise $10,000 in honor of Josh Navez Mejia to support cancer research. It has been 20 years since I ran the Boston Marathon for the first time as a bandit. For those who do not know, a bandit is someone who runs Boston unofficially by lining up behind the official runners. 

The Boston Marathon is one of the few races that allow unofficial runners because of the history of “the bandits.” At the time, I was 19 and had decided to run it the year before after experiencing the magic of the marathon as a spectator. Many who have been to the marathon may know this magic I am talking about. It is watching the determination in the many runners as they endure the 26.2 miles. Some are elite runners and many are just like you and me-people that simply are up for the challenge and will work hard to get to the finish line. After voicing my desire to one day run that April day in 1991, I was told “Kerry you will never be able to run the marathon.” In fairness to the person that said this, at the time I was not in the greatest shape and probably had never run more than 5 miles. It was that marathon Monday in April of 1991 that I felt the magnetic invitation and call to do something after being confronted with the idea that someone said “Kerry you can’t.” This would prove to be a great motivational force throughout my life. The concept of “can’t” would be an invitation to prove that “I can.” In 1992 I completed my first Boston Marathon as bandit and raised money for a homeless shelter in Lowell. I then ran it two more times as a bandit while in college (1994 and 1995).

The marathon became one of the greatest defining metaphors for my life. The marathon is hard. There are really no short cuts. Quite honestly, some days it seems like an impossible feat. I have to work hard. I have to run when I don’t want to. I have to believe that I can even on the days when I don’t think I can. I have to run hills. I have to run when it is cold. I have to run when it is hot (I can only dream). I have to stay healthy. I will experience aches and pains. It is progress not perfection. Preparation is everything. Although even with great preparation, like many, I will hit the wall. So I need to not only train my body, I need to train my mind. During training I meet my best and worst self. I have days I feel great and days I feel defeat. I learn to cherish the days I feel great and I learn to call on inner strength on the days I experience defeat. Does this sound a lot like life? For me it does and I believe my experience with the marathon and with running makes me stronger in all that I do. So as I embark on a rigorous and intense training for Boston 2012, I wanted to share with you why I am running this year.

On April 16, 2010 my dear friend Matt lost his nephew Joshua Navez Mejia to Ewing’s Sarcoma. Josh was diagnosed at the age of ten and lost his brave battle two years later. This past April 2011 was the first time I had returned to marathon since I had run in 1995. As I stood on the hills in Newton near mile 20, I once again experienced the magic of the marathon. I watched many runners pass by with the same determination that I saw in 1991. The runners from Dana Farber really stood out to me. I found myself remembering how hard the marathon is-the training and then actually doing it. My mind then started thinking about my friend Matt and the personal marathon that little Josh faced as he bravely battled cancer for two years. I thought maybe I could run the marathon again. As soon as I started thinking this, I also started convincing myself that I could not do this. Once again, I was confronted by the invitation of can’t. If Josh could so bravely look cancer in the eye, why could I not run the Boston Marathon again? Then I realized that the following year the marathon would fall on Josh’s 2 year anniversary. In that moment, I knew I wanted to do it and to use my training as a way to honor such an amazing boy as well as the courage of his family.

So today, I run because I can. Although, perhaps it is not just that “I can” run but that I also choose to do what “I can”. This is something I am learning a lot about. It is not simply being able to do something; it is also recognizing and believing that you can do something and then committing to make it happen.  This year, I run because through running I experience all that is possible when we are willing to put one foot in front of the other and step by step, mile by mile, dollar by dollar work our way towards a goal. My goal is to finish the Boston Marathon on April 16, 2012 and to raise $10,000. In doing so I will be honoring Josh and his family and the many other families that are affected by cancer. I will also be helping to support Dana Farber reach the ultimate finish line- a world without cancer. I hope you will join me on my journey and do what you can. We must dream a world without cancer but first we must believe it is possible.Then we must do our part to make it happen. Thank you to all of you who have already made generous donations!