Back in the Hotel
I don't really look like I just ran 26.2 miles, do I?
posted by Lynn at 1:21 AM
2 comments
Friday, July 07, 2006
I don't really look like I just ran 26.2 miles, do I?
Su crossing the finish line
I wish my pictures showed the word "Finish."
posted by Lynn at 1:10 AM
0 comments
Me crossing the finish line
I look slightly less like I'm going to die in this one.
posted by Lynn at 1:09 AM
0 comments
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
The Marathon
Oh, the long awaited post... the marathon itself.
The day before the marathon was spent in almost painful anticipation. We were in Alaska but we weren't supposed to exert ourselves. The city itself was kind of ugly, the walk to the expo was long, and I needed to figure out where a grocery store was and buy sports beverages and food for breakfast before the marathon and recovery after. There was a strategy meeting at 5 followed by a pasta dinner at 7, but a long day stretched out between 8:30 am and 5:00 pm. Slowly it ticked away. Su finally arrived after missing her flight and spending the night in the Seattle airport. We found a little grocery store and combed the aisles for bagels and chocolate milk and gatorade. We bought a foam cooler and lugged it back to the room. It was useful for keeping our milk cold and we knew it would come in handy for the dreaded ice baths. We went to the strategy meeting and the pasta party and choked the almost edible food (I could make better pasta with my eyes closed) and then went back to the hotel room. My plan was to lay out everything I would need, take a hot bath, and go to sleep. The only problem was, I had too many decisions to make: which shoes? which socks? do I bring a fleece or hope that Alaska isn't too cold at 6 am? I also still had to sew all the ribbons onto my jersey. As the night progressed I got more obsessive about the details, filling up my gel flask and my water bottles, pinning my number onto my shirt, practically pacing the room. Finally, there was nothing left to worry about. I took a long hot bath, set my alarm for 5:15 am, and crawled into bed.
When it went off in the morning, I wished I had set it for earlier. Eating took too much time, as did frantically searching for forgotten essentials. I felt panicked and rushed as I ran downstairs for the group photo only to take the elevator up to my room five minutes later to look one last time for... I honestly can't quite remember what. We took photos and piled on the bus only to sit in a parking lot for over an hour. Of course as the start drew near I desperately needed the bathroom, along with every other person in the parking lot. I waited in line for almost half an hour, emergining five minutes before the start. And we were off.
At first you were more walking than running there was so much congestion near the start line. I was eager to break free into some open air so I soon left my friends behind, skirting up the sides to get into open patches. I picked out a girl about my age running about my pace and introduced myself to her. She was from Indiana, and we ran together for the first ten miles. But about one mile in we saw a moose. He??? (I didn't get a good look) was running along side of the road, just on the other side of a fence, right by the highway. Everyone cheered, and I fumbled for my camera, taking a picture that might have a moose lurking in it somewhere but really is just a picture of a fence and trees. Still, with a moose spotted, I was ready to go home. Except, wait, there were still 25.2 more miles to go! Almost immediately after the moose, I managed to drop my fuel belt and had to go backwards dodging runners to collect the belt and my cell phone which had slipped free. I got it back on and caught back up to Indiana though, and we continued on our way.
I liked Indiana's pace, but she didn't slow down quite as much as I wanted to going through water stops. I had totally planned on walking through the stops, but she was anxious to keep moving. Perhaps because of this, and perhaps because of my relatively unbroken in shoes, or perhaps because of the tank trail which started around mile seven or eight and went on for another 9 or 10 miles, my hip started to bother me. It started hurting around mile ten, and by mile thirteen I was walking and crying and worried that I was never going to finish the race. I tried to run 8 minutes and walk 2, but the switching back and forth proved to be the most painful part, so I decided to just try and run for thirty minutes. I told myself that if I could manage that, I would let myself walk for twenty. Luckily that never had to happen, as I started running again, the hip started loosening up, and by the time the thirty minutes were up we were pretty much done with the tank trail. Once I was back on even ground again, everything started feeling much better.
Once I started running again, I started passing people that had passed me in the previous couple of miles. At first, it was other people that had been run-walking like me. But by mile eighteen, I was seeing familiar TNT faces too. Around mile 18, I was adopted by a woman named Suzie. She had been running with a bunch of friends when one of them started feeling really dizzy around mile 9. She had walked her friend to the first aid station and stayed with her until she was whisked off to a hospital. All of her friends had gone on without her, so she had been running by herself. When she found out that it was my first marathon, she made it her mission to talk me through the last six miles. She told me about her other marathons, and her family. She told me different visualization techniques to use to get outside my body so that I could forget the pain. She also told me to run each of the last six miles for somebody I loved. Around mile 22 we caught up to her friends, and a couple miles later I fell back a little. But I kept them in sight the whole rest of the way, and I have a picture with them at the finish line. I'm not sure I would have kept running all of those miles if it hadn't been for Suzie. Some day I want to do that for somebody else. Of course, I'll have to get to the point where I am capable of talking during the last six miles before that is an option.
So did the last six miles hurt? Yes, in a dull achey sort of way... in a this pain has been going on for too long and just needs to stop sort of way... in a I'm just unbelievably tired sort of way. I don't know if I actually hit a wall. I fell apart around mile 13 and that was the hardest part of the race mentally and physically. It was during those earlier miles that I felt searing pain and wondered if I could finish. I don't know whether I was capable of doing math during those last six miles, I know that I had stopped caring about what pace I was going or how long we had been running for. I did still vaguely want to finish under five hours. But when Suzie suggested that a 4:40 was still possible, I could have cared less. I finished in 4 hours and 52 minutes. I even managed to sprint in the last 50 yards.
I posed for a picture with Suzie and crew and then made it about five more steps before I got whisked away to the first aid tent. Apparently it was somewhat alarming that I couldn't really walk once I stopped running. My hip was spasming, but as soon as I sat down that was more manageable. Taking care of myself after the marathon was one of the hardest parts. Walking hurt so badly and I knew that I needed to eat and drink and sign in at the TNT tent. I spent the next hour and a half hobbling around the finish area talking on the phone to all sorts of people and standing in line for a massage.
I took the bus back to the hotel, took my ice bath, read my book and tried to make it out to the victory party. The problem was, after I took the ice bath I couldn't get warm, until we got to the victory party, where I was burning up. The food wasn't very good, and I couldn't choke much of it down. So we left with a bunch of people and went to a bar where I planned to get more food. Instead I drank a beer, tottered back to the hotel room and fell asleep.
Su and I were extremely gimpy for the next few days, and the pain was significant but we recovered fairly quickly and had a fantastic time in Alaska. This post is already very long, so I won't dwell on the recovery right now. But overall the pain was worth it. The marathon was full of people wearing TNT purple, and the support along the course was amazing. I didn't write my name on my jersey, but all along the course I got cheers of "go Georgia" and "go Peach". There weren't a lot of spectators but they made up for it in spirit. A coach from the Illinois team ran with me for about half a mile and gave me some advice on how to loosen my hip up further around mile 17. He waws so sure that I would finish, that I knew I had to keep going. Running a marathon was both easier and harder than I thought it would be, but I'm glad I did it.... and I'm already signed up to run another one (although this time I won't be fundraising).
The day before the marathon was spent in almost painful anticipation. We were in Alaska but we weren't supposed to exert ourselves. The city itself was kind of ugly, the walk to the expo was long, and I needed to figure out where a grocery store was and buy sports beverages and food for breakfast before the marathon and recovery after. There was a strategy meeting at 5 followed by a pasta dinner at 7, but a long day stretched out between 8:30 am and 5:00 pm. Slowly it ticked away. Su finally arrived after missing her flight and spending the night in the Seattle airport. We found a little grocery store and combed the aisles for bagels and chocolate milk and gatorade. We bought a foam cooler and lugged it back to the room. It was useful for keeping our milk cold and we knew it would come in handy for the dreaded ice baths. We went to the strategy meeting and the pasta party and choked the almost edible food (I could make better pasta with my eyes closed) and then went back to the hotel room. My plan was to lay out everything I would need, take a hot bath, and go to sleep. The only problem was, I had too many decisions to make: which shoes? which socks? do I bring a fleece or hope that Alaska isn't too cold at 6 am? I also still had to sew all the ribbons onto my jersey. As the night progressed I got more obsessive about the details, filling up my gel flask and my water bottles, pinning my number onto my shirt, practically pacing the room. Finally, there was nothing left to worry about. I took a long hot bath, set my alarm for 5:15 am, and crawled into bed.
When it went off in the morning, I wished I had set it for earlier. Eating took too much time, as did frantically searching for forgotten essentials. I felt panicked and rushed as I ran downstairs for the group photo only to take the elevator up to my room five minutes later to look one last time for... I honestly can't quite remember what. We took photos and piled on the bus only to sit in a parking lot for over an hour. Of course as the start drew near I desperately needed the bathroom, along with every other person in the parking lot. I waited in line for almost half an hour, emergining five minutes before the start. And we were off.
At first you were more walking than running there was so much congestion near the start line. I was eager to break free into some open air so I soon left my friends behind, skirting up the sides to get into open patches. I picked out a girl about my age running about my pace and introduced myself to her. She was from Indiana, and we ran together for the first ten miles. But about one mile in we saw a moose. He??? (I didn't get a good look) was running along side of the road, just on the other side of a fence, right by the highway. Everyone cheered, and I fumbled for my camera, taking a picture that might have a moose lurking in it somewhere but really is just a picture of a fence and trees. Still, with a moose spotted, I was ready to go home. Except, wait, there were still 25.2 more miles to go! Almost immediately after the moose, I managed to drop my fuel belt and had to go backwards dodging runners to collect the belt and my cell phone which had slipped free. I got it back on and caught back up to Indiana though, and we continued on our way.
I liked Indiana's pace, but she didn't slow down quite as much as I wanted to going through water stops. I had totally planned on walking through the stops, but she was anxious to keep moving. Perhaps because of this, and perhaps because of my relatively unbroken in shoes, or perhaps because of the tank trail which started around mile seven or eight and went on for another 9 or 10 miles, my hip started to bother me. It started hurting around mile ten, and by mile thirteen I was walking and crying and worried that I was never going to finish the race. I tried to run 8 minutes and walk 2, but the switching back and forth proved to be the most painful part, so I decided to just try and run for thirty minutes. I told myself that if I could manage that, I would let myself walk for twenty. Luckily that never had to happen, as I started running again, the hip started loosening up, and by the time the thirty minutes were up we were pretty much done with the tank trail. Once I was back on even ground again, everything started feeling much better.
Once I started running again, I started passing people that had passed me in the previous couple of miles. At first, it was other people that had been run-walking like me. But by mile eighteen, I was seeing familiar TNT faces too. Around mile 18, I was adopted by a woman named Suzie. She had been running with a bunch of friends when one of them started feeling really dizzy around mile 9. She had walked her friend to the first aid station and stayed with her until she was whisked off to a hospital. All of her friends had gone on without her, so she had been running by herself. When she found out that it was my first marathon, she made it her mission to talk me through the last six miles. She told me about her other marathons, and her family. She told me different visualization techniques to use to get outside my body so that I could forget the pain. She also told me to run each of the last six miles for somebody I loved. Around mile 22 we caught up to her friends, and a couple miles later I fell back a little. But I kept them in sight the whole rest of the way, and I have a picture with them at the finish line. I'm not sure I would have kept running all of those miles if it hadn't been for Suzie. Some day I want to do that for somebody else. Of course, I'll have to get to the point where I am capable of talking during the last six miles before that is an option.
So did the last six miles hurt? Yes, in a dull achey sort of way... in a this pain has been going on for too long and just needs to stop sort of way... in a I'm just unbelievably tired sort of way. I don't know if I actually hit a wall. I fell apart around mile 13 and that was the hardest part of the race mentally and physically. It was during those earlier miles that I felt searing pain and wondered if I could finish. I don't know whether I was capable of doing math during those last six miles, I know that I had stopped caring about what pace I was going or how long we had been running for. I did still vaguely want to finish under five hours. But when Suzie suggested that a 4:40 was still possible, I could have cared less. I finished in 4 hours and 52 minutes. I even managed to sprint in the last 50 yards.
I posed for a picture with Suzie and crew and then made it about five more steps before I got whisked away to the first aid tent. Apparently it was somewhat alarming that I couldn't really walk once I stopped running. My hip was spasming, but as soon as I sat down that was more manageable. Taking care of myself after the marathon was one of the hardest parts. Walking hurt so badly and I knew that I needed to eat and drink and sign in at the TNT tent. I spent the next hour and a half hobbling around the finish area talking on the phone to all sorts of people and standing in line for a massage.
I took the bus back to the hotel, took my ice bath, read my book and tried to make it out to the victory party. The problem was, after I took the ice bath I couldn't get warm, until we got to the victory party, where I was burning up. The food wasn't very good, and I couldn't choke much of it down. So we left with a bunch of people and went to a bar where I planned to get more food. Instead I drank a beer, tottered back to the hotel room and fell asleep.
Su and I were extremely gimpy for the next few days, and the pain was significant but we recovered fairly quickly and had a fantastic time in Alaska. This post is already very long, so I won't dwell on the recovery right now. But overall the pain was worth it. The marathon was full of people wearing TNT purple, and the support along the course was amazing. I didn't write my name on my jersey, but all along the course I got cheers of "go Georgia" and "go Peach". There weren't a lot of spectators but they made up for it in spirit. A coach from the Illinois team ran with me for about half a mile and gave me some advice on how to loosen my hip up further around mile 17. He waws so sure that I would finish, that I knew I had to keep going. Running a marathon was both easier and harder than I thought it would be, but I'm glad I did it.... and I'm already signed up to run another one (although this time I won't be fundraising).
posted by Lynn at 3:48 PM
0 comments
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Two Right Shoes
I went to Alaska via California, where I spent a week visiting a Jerry (whatever species of animal that might be). During that week I was supposed to taper, but still run. So, a couple of days in, I go to pull out my running shoes. Much to my dismay, I had carefully packed two right shoes. At the beginning of this whole process, I had bought two identical pairs of shoes, so that I would not have to buy new shoes right before the marathon. Before I left for California, I sat on my couch with the right shoes on one side, the left shoes on the other and spent a good ten minutes trying to figure out exactly which two shoes had the most support left in them, and then packed them away. Except, somehow I managed to carefully stow away two right shoes.
So in California, at 8:00 on a Sunday evening, I sat there clutching my two right shoes, calling shoe stores to see if anyone was open, absolutely desperate for a run. And when I say I was desperate for a run, I mean that I was being an absolute total brat because it had been several days since I had a runner's high... or at least that is my excuse. Unfortunately, everyone had closed at 7:00. The next day, on the way to the beach, we went to four different running stores, trying to find one that had my size in the two models that I was considering. I wanted to try the Kayanos too, because I thought the extra padding might be worth the extra $40. Finally, around 2:00 in the afternoon we were standing in a Lady Footlocker (not the type of store I like to buy running shoes from) and I was frantically trying to decide between the Kayanos which my foot seemed to swim in, and the 2110s which hurt until i break them in. At this point I was hungry and beyond crabby and I think Jerry was about to just abandon ship and leave me standing in the mall agonizing over which pair of shoes to run 26.2 miles in. Luckily, I eventually made a decision, we ate food, and life got better. The 2110s won and we proceeded to the beach where we went on a fun but slightly painful run. The next day I went on another run, this one quite painful by the end. I decided to call Su and have her get my left shoes from my apartment and bring them to the marathon in Alaska. That way I could always go back to what I had trained with.
But first, I called Delta to make sure that I could cancel the first half of my ticket and fly the second half. Well, that was strictly not allowed. I could spend $300 to fly the same flight I had already paid $600 for, or I could buy a new flight (on a cheaper airline) and end up with a $600 credit on Delta. I found a third option. I added a flight home to the tail end of my trip and cut off the first leg, so for a grand total of $117 I can get back to Atlanta from Alaska and get up to DC the day after my birthday to celebrate with the rents. I just need to buy a return ticket. So it ended up being no big deal, but after the great shoe disaster of 2006 I was a little concerned.
So I finally get up to Alaska and am faced the night before the race with three pairs of running shoes (Su did not know which one to bring). I try on the old ones, which were a half size smaller than the new ones, and they feel too tight. They make the blister on my left toe feel as though it is going to explode. Then I try on the new ones, they just hurt. Having them on for a few minutes makes my arches ache. I jog back and forth a few times in the hotel room in both pairs (I did not feel the need to try the third pair). Finally in desperation, I try taking the old insoles out and putting them in the new shoes. I did not think it would work because of the size difference, but lo and behold, it did. And it felt comfortable. So I added my new shoes (both a left and a right) to the pile of running clothes I had already laid out, took a long relaxing bath, and went to bed nervously awaiting the next morning.
So in California, at 8:00 on a Sunday evening, I sat there clutching my two right shoes, calling shoe stores to see if anyone was open, absolutely desperate for a run. And when I say I was desperate for a run, I mean that I was being an absolute total brat because it had been several days since I had a runner's high... or at least that is my excuse. Unfortunately, everyone had closed at 7:00. The next day, on the way to the beach, we went to four different running stores, trying to find one that had my size in the two models that I was considering. I wanted to try the Kayanos too, because I thought the extra padding might be worth the extra $40. Finally, around 2:00 in the afternoon we were standing in a Lady Footlocker (not the type of store I like to buy running shoes from) and I was frantically trying to decide between the Kayanos which my foot seemed to swim in, and the 2110s which hurt until i break them in. At this point I was hungry and beyond crabby and I think Jerry was about to just abandon ship and leave me standing in the mall agonizing over which pair of shoes to run 26.2 miles in. Luckily, I eventually made a decision, we ate food, and life got better. The 2110s won and we proceeded to the beach where we went on a fun but slightly painful run. The next day I went on another run, this one quite painful by the end. I decided to call Su and have her get my left shoes from my apartment and bring them to the marathon in Alaska. That way I could always go back to what I had trained with.
But first, I called Delta to make sure that I could cancel the first half of my ticket and fly the second half. Well, that was strictly not allowed. I could spend $300 to fly the same flight I had already paid $600 for, or I could buy a new flight (on a cheaper airline) and end up with a $600 credit on Delta. I found a third option. I added a flight home to the tail end of my trip and cut off the first leg, so for a grand total of $117 I can get back to Atlanta from Alaska and get up to DC the day after my birthday to celebrate with the rents. I just need to buy a return ticket. So it ended up being no big deal, but after the great shoe disaster of 2006 I was a little concerned.
So I finally get up to Alaska and am faced the night before the race with three pairs of running shoes (Su did not know which one to bring). I try on the old ones, which were a half size smaller than the new ones, and they feel too tight. They make the blister on my left toe feel as though it is going to explode. Then I try on the new ones, they just hurt. Having them on for a few minutes makes my arches ache. I jog back and forth a few times in the hotel room in both pairs (I did not feel the need to try the third pair). Finally in desperation, I try taking the old insoles out and putting them in the new shoes. I did not think it would work because of the size difference, but lo and behold, it did. And it felt comfortable. So I added my new shoes (both a left and a right) to the pile of running clothes I had already laid out, took a long relaxing bath, and went to bed nervously awaiting the next morning.
posted by Lynn at 1:05 PM
1 comments
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Frustration
My eighteen mile run did not happen last week. What happened instead was a fourteen mile run marked by feverish hot and cold chills and the feeling that my body was shutting down around my ears. It didn't seem worth pushing it. I ran a fever most of the week before, and had trouble eating and sleeping. When it came time to run, there just weren't appropriate reserves.
This week went a little more smoothly, I fit in three mid-week runs, and the long run was only supposed to be 10 miles, which seemed like it would be a piece of cake. Unfortunately, I still don't think I ate enough the night before, and it was easily ten degrees warmer than it had been of late. I didn't sleep more than six hours on Friday night, and not long into the run it became clear to me that I was once again running on fumes. This time, at least, I knew I wasn't sick, and I also knew that I wasn't prepared to not finish. So, I dropped back from the pack and took things slower... trying to find a pace I was comfortable with. Of course, since I always run with the group, I've sort of stopped carrying a map and I missed the last turn that I was unfamiliar with. Six mile later, with no water stops and without fueling appropriately, I had found my way back. My route was pretty much the appropriate length, but I certainly didn't run it smart.
So, of course, I got sick from not eating enough or drinking enough while I ran, and I was throwing my party... so being sick wasn't an option. Thank god, for Pepto Bismol. Su and I then spent the afternoon running around and setting up for what turned out to be a fun but very intimate party. Now I'm exhausted, have leftover beer for 30, leftover ziti for 20, and still have $779 to go with the fundraising. My party attendees suggested I sell the beer... we'll have to see.
Anyway, this week is going to be a running intense week... 10 miles on Wednesday and 20 on Saturday... but, Saturday I will be in DC! Anyone want to run 20 miles with me???
This week went a little more smoothly, I fit in three mid-week runs, and the long run was only supposed to be 10 miles, which seemed like it would be a piece of cake. Unfortunately, I still don't think I ate enough the night before, and it was easily ten degrees warmer than it had been of late. I didn't sleep more than six hours on Friday night, and not long into the run it became clear to me that I was once again running on fumes. This time, at least, I knew I wasn't sick, and I also knew that I wasn't prepared to not finish. So, I dropped back from the pack and took things slower... trying to find a pace I was comfortable with. Of course, since I always run with the group, I've sort of stopped carrying a map and I missed the last turn that I was unfamiliar with. Six mile later, with no water stops and without fueling appropriately, I had found my way back. My route was pretty much the appropriate length, but I certainly didn't run it smart.
So, of course, I got sick from not eating enough or drinking enough while I ran, and I was throwing my party... so being sick wasn't an option. Thank god, for Pepto Bismol. Su and I then spent the afternoon running around and setting up for what turned out to be a fun but very intimate party. Now I'm exhausted, have leftover beer for 30, leftover ziti for 20, and still have $779 to go with the fundraising. My party attendees suggested I sell the beer... we'll have to see.
Anyway, this week is going to be a running intense week... 10 miles on Wednesday and 20 on Saturday... but, Saturday I will be in DC! Anyone want to run 20 miles with me???
posted by Lynn at 9:10 AM
0 comments
Friday, May 12, 2006
Okay... I've reached the point of grovelling....
So,
I'm $1000 away from my fundraising goal, with a month left to go and I'm reaching the point of sheer panic. If you have been reading this blog, and enjoying it, and want to help me out, please think about donating. $1000 is 10 people donating $100, or 20 people donating $50, or 40 people donating $25, or 50 people donating $20, or 66 2/3 people donating $15, or 100 people donating $10, or 200 people donating $5 (doing math is fun). No donation is too small or too large (though I might have trouble finding 1000 people to donate $1). This blog has links to my fundraising page, where you can donate with a credit card... or you can mail me a check made out to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society... just email me for the address
What do you get for your money? My eternal gratitude, a very nice thank you note, and a picture of me crossing the finish line. If you want more than that, and live in Atlanta... I'm probably going to be throwing a party on May 20 and at said party your donation of $20 or more will entitle you to "free" booze and food... so keep the date open. If you want more than that and you live in DC or are planning to be in DC for the summer, I am probably going to be throwing a party on June 4th. More details will hopefully follow.
But what do you really get for your money? The team goal for the Atlanta Alaska Team is $260,000. Raising $200,000 will allow The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to fund one Translational Research Program for one year. This research program encourages and provides support for new and novel clinical research. The program’s purpose is to fund research that shows high promise for translating basic biomedical knowledge to prevention or new treatments and, ultimately, to prolong and enhance life.
Dr. Christopher Flowers is currently supported by a Translational Research Grant from the Society at Emory University right here in Georgia. Dr. Flowers and his team have identified the subset of donor T-cells that are responsible for causing Graft vs. Host Disease (GvHD), a life-threatening condition brought on by bone marrow transplants with less than a perfect match. They have proposed a way to eliminate these cells from the transplant sample by treating with a type of chemotherapy. The likely outcome of this work will be a new method of transplantation that eliminates one of the most serious potential side effects.
That extra $60,000? Raising $50,000 will allow The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to fund one Special Fellowship for one year. Special fellows are qualified investigators who have completed a minimum of two years post-doctoral research training and are continuing their research under the direction of a research Sponsor. The Special Fellowship should permit the scientist to transition to an independent research program.
Hinh Ly, PhD is currently supported by a special fellowship from the Society at Emory University in Georgia. Dr. Ly is studying a component of cell machinery that is critically linked to the control of cell growth – the telmerase complex. The likely outcome of his work is a better understanding of this critical piece of cell machinery and how we might use it to regain control of the cancer cell’s growth.
If we exceed our team goal and raise 270,000? That last 20,0000 could be used to support approximately five education programs for patients and families in the State of Georgia, award continuing education units to nurses and social workers, and sponsor five back to school programs.
The Society believes that education is a vital tool to survivorship for patients. Providing education to medical professionals that provide treatment and services to blood cancer patients is also critical to receiving quality health care. The Trish Greene Back To School Program For The Child With Cancer promotes teamwork among medical and school professionals and parents to ensure a successful re-entry to school for children diagnosed with any type of cancer.
If you need to put a face to the disease, go to my fundraising page, take a good look at Elijah, and imagine what the last few years must have been like for him and his family. Or take a look at Abby and Ryan's stories. I've spent the last week laid up with the touch of the flu. I've called countless friends and whined, been a baby, and lamented the time I haven't been able to spend running or getting my work done. Take those feelings of suffering and frustration that we all have when we are sick, multiply it by at least a thousand, and you can begin to imagine what these children (and adults) have gone through or are going through. Try to imagine what it would be like to be three, or four, or five and poked and prodded, constantly sick, and not understand what was happening to you. Try to imagine being the parent of that three, or four, or five year old.
I'm asking you to donate for me, and rescue me from my panic. But, I'm also asking you to donate to this cause because it is a good cause, because this is a good organization, and because I believe we can make this world a little better.
If you are still reading at this point, I have one more request. If someone in your life has been touched by this disease (or any other cancer) and you want me to honor them when I run, please either mail me a ribbon (of any color...) with your personal hero's name written on the ribbon, or email me a name and I will write it on the ribbon. I will pin all of the ribbons to my jersey when I run in Alaska, and carry them with me across the finish line. For those of you who received a fundraising letter from me in the mail, I hope to get a ribbon in the mail to each of you in the next few days that you can mail back to me. Help me honor those you love.
Email me, if you want to send me a name, or if you want more information about either of the two parties.
Thank you so much!
Oh, and be thinking of me on Saturday as I run eighteen miles for the first time.
I'm $1000 away from my fundraising goal, with a month left to go and I'm reaching the point of sheer panic. If you have been reading this blog, and enjoying it, and want to help me out, please think about donating. $1000 is 10 people donating $100, or 20 people donating $50, or 40 people donating $25, or 50 people donating $20, or 66 2/3 people donating $15, or 100 people donating $10, or 200 people donating $5 (doing math is fun). No donation is too small or too large (though I might have trouble finding 1000 people to donate $1). This blog has links to my fundraising page, where you can donate with a credit card... or you can mail me a check made out to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society... just email me for the address
What do you get for your money? My eternal gratitude, a very nice thank you note, and a picture of me crossing the finish line. If you want more than that, and live in Atlanta... I'm probably going to be throwing a party on May 20 and at said party your donation of $20 or more will entitle you to "free" booze and food... so keep the date open. If you want more than that and you live in DC or are planning to be in DC for the summer, I am probably going to be throwing a party on June 4th. More details will hopefully follow.
But what do you really get for your money? The team goal for the Atlanta Alaska Team is $260,000. Raising $200,000 will allow The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to fund one Translational Research Program for one year. This research program encourages and provides support for new and novel clinical research. The program’s purpose is to fund research that shows high promise for translating basic biomedical knowledge to prevention or new treatments and, ultimately, to prolong and enhance life.
Dr. Christopher Flowers is currently supported by a Translational Research Grant from the Society at Emory University right here in Georgia. Dr. Flowers and his team have identified the subset of donor T-cells that are responsible for causing Graft vs. Host Disease (GvHD), a life-threatening condition brought on by bone marrow transplants with less than a perfect match. They have proposed a way to eliminate these cells from the transplant sample by treating with a type of chemotherapy. The likely outcome of this work will be a new method of transplantation that eliminates one of the most serious potential side effects.
That extra $60,000? Raising $50,000 will allow The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to fund one Special Fellowship for one year. Special fellows are qualified investigators who have completed a minimum of two years post-doctoral research training and are continuing their research under the direction of a research Sponsor. The Special Fellowship should permit the scientist to transition to an independent research program.
Hinh Ly, PhD is currently supported by a special fellowship from the Society at Emory University in Georgia. Dr. Ly is studying a component of cell machinery that is critically linked to the control of cell growth – the telmerase complex. The likely outcome of his work is a better understanding of this critical piece of cell machinery and how we might use it to regain control of the cancer cell’s growth.
If we exceed our team goal and raise 270,000? That last 20,0000 could be used to support approximately five education programs for patients and families in the State of Georgia, award continuing education units to nurses and social workers, and sponsor five back to school programs.
The Society believes that education is a vital tool to survivorship for patients. Providing education to medical professionals that provide treatment and services to blood cancer patients is also critical to receiving quality health care. The Trish Greene Back To School Program For The Child With Cancer promotes teamwork among medical and school professionals and parents to ensure a successful re-entry to school for children diagnosed with any type of cancer.
If you need to put a face to the disease, go to my fundraising page, take a good look at Elijah, and imagine what the last few years must have been like for him and his family. Or take a look at Abby and Ryan's stories. I've spent the last week laid up with the touch of the flu. I've called countless friends and whined, been a baby, and lamented the time I haven't been able to spend running or getting my work done. Take those feelings of suffering and frustration that we all have when we are sick, multiply it by at least a thousand, and you can begin to imagine what these children (and adults) have gone through or are going through. Try to imagine what it would be like to be three, or four, or five and poked and prodded, constantly sick, and not understand what was happening to you. Try to imagine being the parent of that three, or four, or five year old.
I'm asking you to donate for me, and rescue me from my panic. But, I'm also asking you to donate to this cause because it is a good cause, because this is a good organization, and because I believe we can make this world a little better.
If you are still reading at this point, I have one more request. If someone in your life has been touched by this disease (or any other cancer) and you want me to honor them when I run, please either mail me a ribbon (of any color...) with your personal hero's name written on the ribbon, or email me a name and I will write it on the ribbon. I will pin all of the ribbons to my jersey when I run in Alaska, and carry them with me across the finish line. For those of you who received a fundraising letter from me in the mail, I hope to get a ribbon in the mail to each of you in the next few days that you can mail back to me. Help me honor those you love.
Email me, if you want to send me a name, or if you want more information about either of the two parties.
Thank you so much!
Oh, and be thinking of me on Saturday as I run eighteen miles for the first time.
posted by Lynn at 10:32 AM
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Thursday, May 04, 2006
The Nutritionist
I'm not sure why writing down what I've eaten for the last three days and handing it over to a stranger to critique is scary as all hell.
But it is scary as all hell.
That said, in some ways it passed with flying colors. I don't eat enough green things, I need to be religious about that calcium pill... but apparently the balance of carbs and proteins was great, and I didn't seem to have a problem with sweets (ha, ha, fooled her... but hey, I confessed to both the popsicle and a chocolate truffle (if only there had really been just the one...)).
She even said that it looks like I'm getting close to enough protein. The problem is, apparently I'm a little low in the calorie department, which means my body probably isn't successfully using all of that protein to rebuild muscle... some of it is being burnt up for energy.
Most of our little session was aimed at finding ways to keep me from getting sick on long runs. Her advice: eat more during the run. Basically she wants me to consume 100 calories every half hour to forty five minutes followed by a 300-400 calorie recovery meal that is not a substitute for breakfast, lunch or dinner. That should get my calories up to where they should be and should prevent my body from consuming muscle while I run. Oh, and I'm supposed to add a daily yogurt and some kind of vegetable and come back and see her in two weeks.
I'm kind of sad that she didn't calculate my body fat... just because nobody has ever done it and I'm curious, but ah well.
So Saturday I ran 14 miles in Brooklyn... from my friend's apartment, through Prospect Park and down to Coney Island. It was fun, but, surprise, surprise, I definitely got sick afterwards and was pretty much a zombie for the rest of the day, right Roger? It was sixty degrees and gorgeous thouugh... which was nice. Last night I had a terrible run in Atlanta. I went around 6:30 and the humidity was so bad you could cut the air with a knife... plus I hadn't taken my allergy pill... so I gave up after 4 miles because I was gasping for air... and because my hip was bothering me. Well, the hip bothered me all last night... everytime I rolled over I experienced a searing jolt of pain in my left hip. Today it hurts to walk, and I'm limping around. I guess that running tonight is out of the question.
At the moment I hate running, I'm so frustrated with playing catch up after the neck thing. I'm so frustrated with getting sick after every long run. I just want to go lie on the beach for two weeks and not move. But I'm sure this too shall pass.
Okay, back to final papers.
But it is scary as all hell.
That said, in some ways it passed with flying colors. I don't eat enough green things, I need to be religious about that calcium pill... but apparently the balance of carbs and proteins was great, and I didn't seem to have a problem with sweets (ha, ha, fooled her... but hey, I confessed to both the popsicle and a chocolate truffle (if only there had really been just the one...)).
She even said that it looks like I'm getting close to enough protein. The problem is, apparently I'm a little low in the calorie department, which means my body probably isn't successfully using all of that protein to rebuild muscle... some of it is being burnt up for energy.
Most of our little session was aimed at finding ways to keep me from getting sick on long runs. Her advice: eat more during the run. Basically she wants me to consume 100 calories every half hour to forty five minutes followed by a 300-400 calorie recovery meal that is not a substitute for breakfast, lunch or dinner. That should get my calories up to where they should be and should prevent my body from consuming muscle while I run. Oh, and I'm supposed to add a daily yogurt and some kind of vegetable and come back and see her in two weeks.
I'm kind of sad that she didn't calculate my body fat... just because nobody has ever done it and I'm curious, but ah well.
So Saturday I ran 14 miles in Brooklyn... from my friend's apartment, through Prospect Park and down to Coney Island. It was fun, but, surprise, surprise, I definitely got sick afterwards and was pretty much a zombie for the rest of the day, right Roger? It was sixty degrees and gorgeous thouugh... which was nice. Last night I had a terrible run in Atlanta. I went around 6:30 and the humidity was so bad you could cut the air with a knife... plus I hadn't taken my allergy pill... so I gave up after 4 miles because I was gasping for air... and because my hip was bothering me. Well, the hip bothered me all last night... everytime I rolled over I experienced a searing jolt of pain in my left hip. Today it hurts to walk, and I'm limping around. I guess that running tonight is out of the question.
At the moment I hate running, I'm so frustrated with playing catch up after the neck thing. I'm so frustrated with getting sick after every long run. I just want to go lie on the beach for two weeks and not move. But I'm sure this too shall pass.
Okay, back to final papers.
posted by Lynn at 9:54 AM
0 comments
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Back in the Groove... Sort of
Hoorah..my neck has long since stopped hurting and I have successfully eased myself back into running. I took an entire week off to let things heal, and then ran greatly reduced mileage last week because I was having trouble starting back up. I don't think it helped that it was much hotter here last week than it has been. Anyway, I managed an 8 mile run on Monday, and another one last night, without too many problems. The last mile last night was a little painful because I developed some blisters on my left foot. Also, last night's run made me realize that I should invest in some reflective gear. Running in the dark, in the rain, with lightening, is not the smartest move in the book (and yes, I know, reflective gear will only get me so far). Still, the rain (and the darkness) helped with the temperature, and I've been too tired to get out the door early in the morning this week...
So my new running hurdle is traveling. I was in Charlottesville last weekend, and suprise, surprise, did not manage to fit in my long run. This weekend I'm going to be in New York, and I tried calling the Team in Training office so that I could attend a group training session there. Well, it turns out that they aren't having any this weekend. Instead I could sign up to run a half marathon in Queens for $20. This might be the best solution, but I was hoping to get in 15 or 16 miles this week, so I am a little disappointed. My other option is to just run several loops around Central Park. If anyone reading this is a runner in New York city who would be up for a long run this weekend, do get in touch with me. These things are so much better with company. On the bright side, the highs in New York this weekend will be in the sixties and seventies, which is exciting, given that it was 86 degrees on Monday when I pounded out my eight miles. Thank god my marathon is in Alaska...
So my new running hurdle is traveling. I was in Charlottesville last weekend, and suprise, surprise, did not manage to fit in my long run. This weekend I'm going to be in New York, and I tried calling the Team in Training office so that I could attend a group training session there. Well, it turns out that they aren't having any this weekend. Instead I could sign up to run a half marathon in Queens for $20. This might be the best solution, but I was hoping to get in 15 or 16 miles this week, so I am a little disappointed. My other option is to just run several loops around Central Park. If anyone reading this is a runner in New York city who would be up for a long run this weekend, do get in touch with me. These things are so much better with company. On the bright side, the highs in New York this weekend will be in the sixties and seventies, which is exciting, given that it was 86 degrees on Monday when I pounded out my eight miles. Thank god my marathon is in Alaska...
posted by Lynn at 11:14 AM
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