5. It hurts. A lot. And You feel tired sooner than you think, at least if it's a warm day. I started feeling tired a little less than halfway through, but managed to feel a little bit better for a few more miles at least before I started wondering if body parts would fall off before the end.

4. Forget planning. I could have saved myself a lot of unnecessary worry if I had let go of any hopes of any particular time. I knew from about five days prior that it was likely to be a bit warmer than I had hoped. I knew with at least part of my mind that I should just focus on finishing as soon as they raised the alert level to yellow for the race. Even the first half of the race, I was hopeful seeing all the people still within sight with "5:15" and "5:30" on their backs. But then I kind of ran out of gas around mile 15.

3. Enjoy the run. As much as it hurt, there were a lot of cool things to see. There were several runners and speedwalkers I saw who were over 65 years young and still going strong. There were cancer survivors and fellow charity runners. There was a man running with a full-size American flag on a pole. There was Endorphin Dude, complete with bedazzled blue cape. There was a man who ran and juggled four small bean bags. My favorite, though, had to be the blind runner. He had a retinue of helpers to prevent any mishaps; a few out to the sides, and one guide next to him holding one end of a small piece of rope, the other end of which he held. I didn't even know it was possible for a blind runner to complete any kind of race, and here was one running a marathon.

2. It gets emotional. I was a bit surprised when, right around Mile 23, I started to tear up. I suddenly thought of my dad, how much I missed him and how proud he'd be that I even made it that far. I could really strongly feel his presence, so I knew he was there. I was already so tired but I was determined to finish if I could just dig deep enough to get the last ounces of energy out. I asked Dad to help me, and I believe he did. It's hard to run with tears streaming down your face and a lump in your throat.

1. Having support makes all the difference. Running 26 miles was not even on my bucket list until a few years ago when I started running. The person who first inspired me to run was my brother, who ran his first marathon over 10 years ago. He has always encouraged me, from running my first 5K in 2007 to yesterday, when he ran with me despite my painfully slow pace. He cheered me on, insisting that he would just make sure I could finish the race. He even managed to make me laugh: in the last quarter mile there is a small hill, after which you turn and see the finish line. He said, "If you run up this hill, they give you a medal." I think it was in large part due to him that I found the wherewithal to pull out a slightly faster run for the last 400 yards of the race.

I am also grateful to all of the generous donors who contributed to my fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Your kind wishes and words as well as knowing that together we raised such a significant contribution lifted my spirits when the fatigue was trying to crush me. Knowing that we helped others in the situation I lived through as a teenager made my relatively small accomplishment that much more meaningful. Thank you; your generosity means more to me than I can accurately express. Each of you had a hand in both helping me cross the finish line and bringing a cure for blood cancers that much closer.

To a lot of my friends, and obviously the general public, the idea of me (an average at best runner, certainly not the fastest, and generally considered recreational) running a marathon seems a little, well, insane.

Well, dear readers, I'm here to tell you that there are many times (during my 18-mile run last weekend, for example) that I would readily agree with you. But there is a huge reason why I keep getting up, lacing up my sneakers, and heading out on the trail, the road, or the treadmill, as the case may be.

That reason is that cancer, particularly (to me) leukemia, sucks.

I will not rest until I have accomplished my goal of raising a significant amount of money to combat the types of horrible blood cancers that steal people's beloved family members in the blink of an eye.

People like my dad.

My father was a vibrant, energetic, active, kind, funny and loving man. He was an amazing dad. He worked hard, but he played hard too. My favorite memories of him include his booming laugh, the way you could hear from inside the house if he was swimming in the pool in the backyard, early morning fishing trips at the lake, and "stealing" popcorn from his bowl until he told me to go make my own.

The Christmas I after turned 16 wasn't much of a Christmas at all for my family. Dad wasn't feeling well at all, and he finally got a blood test that revealed, on Christmas Eve, that he had acute myelogenous leukemia (AML). The doctors' prognosis was that if he survived the first three days, he would hopefully have three months to live. Unfortunately, he had the three-day variety, as the mutant cells attacked his lungs, and then his brain. We barely had a chance to absorb the news of his illness before he was just gone.

I run to prevent others from facing a harsh reality like that of my family. I run to hopefully help increase the survival rate of AML, and even find a cure for it someday. Someday others could develop this disease, but survive to watch their little girls graduate from high school and college, get married, earn master's degrees, and have children. My dad missed all of that, and I know he would have loved to have been there in the flesh, though I know he was with us in spirit.

I know some of you don't know me from Adam, but if you have any change to spare, I would really appreciate it if you could contribute to my fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. They are dedicated to researching to find a cure for blood cancers, and they also help families afflicted by these diseases by offering them vital information on the diseases as well as available treatments and therapies so they can make their decisions with more confidence. Every penny over my goal of $1000 will go directly toward their research and patient outreach programs. Thank you to all of my angel donors who have pitched in thus far, and thank you to those who may be moved to donate now.

There is an opportunity to leave a message when you donate (and the donation may be made anonymously as well), and if you would like to share the name of a loved one who is a survivor or victim of cancer that you would like me to acknowledge on my race day jersey, please do so. I would be honored to add them to my list of honorees to which I am dedicating my run.

I ran my first-ever group training run with the Twin Cities Team on Saturday. It was also my longest-ever run. I have run two half marathons, and until two weeks ago that was the longest I'd ever run. Then two weeks ago I ran 14 miles by myself, up and down my new town of New Ulm, MN. That was tough, since I was running on my own, and it was early afternoon on a hot, humid, mostly sunny day.

Saturday morning was bright but with some helpful clouds, and cool but not cold--in other words, nearly perfect for running. The company was jovial and most helpful. The water stops were staffed with TNT alumni who were willing to lend some encouragement to the weary and share a laugh to lighten any with too much intensity (me!).

One of the things I love most about group Team trainings, though, is that all of us are running for the same cause. Some are running for loved ones who are survivors, who lost their battles, or who are still fighting. Some just think cancer sucks. Still others are survivors themselves. Saturday morning, one of the Team members shared that the honored patient they had rallied around, a nine-year-old girl who had been fighting leukemia since she was just three, had passed away on Thursday. He distributed little purple ribbons which we promptly attached to our shoes. Any times I was starting to feel a twinge during that last few miles, I glanced down at the ribbon and remembered that that family's pain was much more than anything I was temporarily feeling.

You can bet that I will do my best to join the team again when I do my 18 mile run in a few weeks. Before that, though, as part of a trip to see my wonderful mom in California, I am running my second Disneyland Half Marathon on Labor Day weekend. That will be awesome, I know, since I loved my first experience with the race. When else can you run through Disneyland and California Adventure parks as well as along the warning track at Angel Stadium?

I am thrilled to report that I am halfway to the goal of $1,000!! Thank you to all of my benefactors for your generous donations. I am so excited that I am past the halfway point so early in my fundraising journey. The way I see it, the sooner I raise the minimum, the bigger I can dream for how I can hopefully inspire an even larger total, benefiting even more people suffering with blood cancers.

My training is going well. While it's still early to be considered "training for the marathon," it's only 3 weeks before my 8K race. I am interested to see if the fitness training I've been doing (courtesy of my new running gadget, the Adidas MiCoach Pacer) will make this race faster than my previous 8K time of 55:50 from two years ago. I am hopeful that I will beat it, even though that's not really my goal.

Mainly, I run to stay fit and because I feel great when I am running regularly. It helps me get back to my "fighting weight" after having my children. But I also love the feeling of doing something for others less fortunate than myself while I am getting in shape--that's why I have sought to be a charity runner this spring and fall. Whenever I am feeling like my life is too crazy, or I'm too tired to lace up my sneakers, I will think about those who wish they could be running right now, but are stuck in a hospital bed, and I get up and run for them.

Thanks again for all of your support. It gives me a boost to feel all of you behind me as I keep pounding that pavement. I'll keep you posted.

Racing to Save Lives

Welcome to my Team In Training home page!

I'm training to participate in the Shamrock Shuffle 8K and the 2011 Chicago Marathon as a member of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's (LLS) Team In Training. All of us on Team In Training are raising funds to help stop leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin lymphoma and myeloma from taking more lives. I am completing this event in honor of all individuals who are battling blood cancers. These people are the real heroes on our team, and we need your support to cross the ultimate finish line - a cure!

This cause is particularly important to me because my father, Ken Erickson, died of Acute Myelogenous Leukemia when I was 16 years old. To this day I miss him terribly and wish he could have met my husband and my two wonderful sons. I am raising funds toward a cure for these devastating diseases in the hope that I will prevent such a loss in many families in the future.

Please make a donation to support my participation in Team In Training and help advance LLS's mission.

I hope you will visit my web site often. Be sure to check back frequently to see my progress. Thanks for your support!