THE ROAD TO BOSTON 2011

In honor of Caleb

Welcome to my Team In Training home page! On April 18, 2011, I will run the Boston Marathon.

I'll take care of running the 26.2 miles - in turn, I hope you'll help me raise $4,500 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society along the way.

As many of you know, I joined Team In Training three years ago, never having run more than a mile (except for the mandatory one in gym class!). Since then, I've run a dozen half-marathons, one full marathon and made running a part of my life. I've met wonderful friends and heard inspiring stories.

This season is a special one for me because I'll be running in honor of a tough little fighter, Caleb Derosier, who was diagnosed with AML Leukemia Type M4 in September - at just seven months old.

What makes Caleb's story personal is that he isn't just another statistic or number. He is the nephew of a childhood friend. Although she and I lost touch over the years, we reconnected through Facebook and met for lunch 20-something years after we shared brownbag lunches in the elementary school cafeteria.

Hearing Caleb's story - the treatments, how he's touched so many lives, his prognosis - is one of the things that pushed me over the edge into signing up for another TNT event.

Sure, taking on the challenge of running 26.2 miles and raising $4,000 is scary - but it's nothing compared to what Caleb and his family experience every day.

Funds raised through the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's (LLS) Team In Training program help stop leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin lymphoma and myeloma from taking more lives.

I ask that you please make a donation to support my participation in Team In Training and help advance this mission -- including treatments and services for Caleb and his family.

My journey is just beginning, and I'm sure it will be exciting. Please visit my web site for updates. You can also follow my progress at my personal blog: www.my-step-by-step.blogspot.com.

Thanks for your support.

GO TEAM!

Teresa

Nov 21, 2010

MILLION DOLLAR MILES

The Team in Training Boston Marathon team doesn't kick-off for another two weeks. But we've already raised $38,000.

I was impressed when I received that news in a team e-mail earlier this week. What impressed me more, however, was the overall team goal.

Our team, about 140 of us, is challenged with raising $1 million. If we do it - and we will, right? - we will be the first TNT Boston Marathon team to do it. I've been told a team came painfully close a few years ago when they reached $990,000.

I haven't yet met any of my Boston teammates. Unfortunately work obligations and my brother's out-of-the-country wedding force me (or will force me) to miss the team social, first team clinic and the kick-off run.

Even though I don't know any of the 140 people I'll be running with during my long training runs, I can already tell that they'll be as motivated and positive as everyone else I've met whose been associated with TNT.

The leaderboard report in last week's team email that listed the team's top five fundraisers to date was impressive - totals in the thousands two weeks before the program even starts.

The team leader is already over $5,000 - more than my entire fundraising goal - and I've been told he's pledged to raise $26,200 by the time we reach the starting line in April.

On Saturday, I attended in a TNT alumni run in Manchester where I had the chance to meet up with teammates from the fall team and run with a few people in the midst of training and fundraising for their first TNT event.

The support, the laughs, the smiles all reminded me of why I do this. When you have a fun, supportive team helping you achieve your running goals, you become energized and more enthusiastic about the prospect of asking for money.

The money, of course, goes to support research for leukemia and other blood cancers. One of the things I particuarly like about the fundraising aspect is that the money I raise during my Boston adventure will provide direct support for families dealing with blood cancers.

It will cover not only the research - the intangible goal of finding a cure or better treatments in the future - it will also provide services to affected families right now.

The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society provides assistance to families trying to navigate insurance issues, helps with co-pays, offers a myriad of support options - for patients and caregivers - and a whole list of educational programs and materials.

I'm excited and proud to know my Boston team - and its $1 million - will be part of this. My $4,000 doesn't seem like much, but together our team will make a difference - and make history.

Thank you for your support.

December 16, 2010

PHASE ONE: (ALMOST) COMPLETE

It doesn't seem like it's possible that six weeks have passed since Coach Lauren presented me with the first phase of my Boston Marathon Training program.

But right on schedule I'll be wrapping up Phase One in the next few days - with a 5-miler tomorrow morning, a 13-miler with the Manchester team on Saturday and a 6-miler mini-reunion run in Portsmouth on Sunday.

The goal of this first phase was simple: build base mileage before getting into the "real" training.

Mission accomplished.

By the time Sunday rolls around, I will have logged 165 or so miles during base training - including three 30+ mile weeks (and one weekend off for a quick trip to Puerto Rico for my little brother's wedding).

I had a 100-mile month in November - 103 miles, to be exact, my highest mileage month ever - and am well on my way to another 100-mile month for December. I haven't hit a triple-digit running month since February - the one and only other time I did so.

As I reflect back on the Phase One, I realize that putting the miles in has been (not surprisingly) both challenging and rewarding.

It's fun to keep hitting new targets. Setting that bar higher and higher keeps me motivated.

I reached weekly mileage highs almost every week and have watched my monthly totals climb. This morning's run put me over 800 running miles for the year, and last week I passed the 2,500 mile mark for my run/bike total. (Blew that 2,010 in 2010 challenge out of the water!)

Of course, those kind of "mile"stones (pun totally intended) don't come easily.

Fitting runs in during one of my busiest work seasons has been challenging. The schedule has forced me to set the alarm early and brave the cold and dark.

Adapting to the cold and dark has meant some "firsts" for me: running with a headlamp, donning my new balaclava (love it!) and layering up my tights and wind pants. I think I've run in every combination of running clothes and accessories during the past six weeks - shorts and tanks to gloves and hats, and everything in between.

I've run in a ridiculous cold, windy downpour. I've run on a treadmill. (I actually preferred the downpour to the monotony of the treadmill.)

I've run by myself. I've run with teammates. I've even run a 10-miler with TC - his longest run yet.

I've become better at being self-sufficient, running some of my longest, unsupported runs yet. I adjusted my running routes to loop back for water and fuel. A few times, I sucked it up and ran with that annoyingly heavy, uncomfortable fuel belt sloshing around my waist.

I've had runs where I feel great and I feel like I can do anything. I've had runs where I seriously question why the heck I'm doing any of this.

Yep, I've come a long way already - 165 miles, literally, but much farther figuratively. But I know I'm just beginning.

Bring on Phase Two!

January 14, 2011

100 DAYS & 100 MINUTES

One of the things I like best about cycling is all of the places I get to explore, the back roads that most people never get to see or experience. I like seeing new things, hearing new things and smelling new things. I like the wind on my face, the sun beating down on me.

Unfortunately, the 75 miles I put on my bike last week got me nowhere - literally.

I've been experiencing a bit of pain in my left calf and right ankle/shin (I can't quite pinpoint it) during my last few runs. I hadn't written about it or mentioned it to many people because, well, if I actually say it aloud, it's more real. Right?

I didn't want my mind to wander (any more than it already has) about the possibility of being, ugh, injured. So if I don't talk about these pains, they'll be less of a factor in my training. Right?

Not to worry too much, I don't think it's anything serious. But I was (am) worried about it becoming something serious - especially with the Boston Marathon less than 100 days away - so I reached out to Coach Lauren as soon as I felt that it wasn't going to be just a one-run thing.

Her advice was to back off running for a bit, which I was secretly happy to hear because I could just sense that running on it was making it worse. I had a recovery week coming up anyway with fewer miles, so the timing was right.

My goal was to focus on cross training. Specifically, I'd do 10 minutes on the bike trainer for every mile I had on my schedule. Think about that a bit. It's a lot of miles on a trainer. Luckily, I had "only" a 10-miler on the schedule for my long run.

Let me be clear, 100 minutes is still a long time on the trainer. It's just better than the alternative of riding 150 minutes, which is what I had on my schedule the previous week.

Surprisingly, I actually liked adding the bike trainer into my training routine, and Coach Lauren is going to build a cross-training day into my schedule from here on out.

Turned out, I didn't mind pedaling "nowhere," and I enjoyed being able to pull out the trainer and spin in the living room while watching television or chatting with TC. I liked that it gave me a legitimate excuse to take a break from running outside in the cold and snow. Shh, don't tell anyone.

Still, cross-training bike miles would have been much easier and more enjoyable in the summer or fall or spring. Anytime but winter, I guess.

In all, I put on 75 miles (a little less than four hours on the bike) in my living room this week. And my legs - and mind - held up fine.

Last night was my first test run after a little more than a week off. I went to the gym (in the midst of a major snowstorm, so I was one of four people there) and hopped on the treadmill.

I didn't feel any of the sharp pains I'd felt during my last few runs - and, bonus, all of my favorite running songs seemed to come up in my Shuffle. I stopped at four miles, even though I felt like I could keep going.

Everything was back to normal? I say that with a question mark because I'm not entirely convinced yet.

The plan now is to ease back into some easy, short runs. Don't overdo it.

Fingers crossed that my feel-good legs continue when I venture for a farther, outdoor run on Saturday and that a week of rest did my banged-up body some good.

Maybe I shouldn't think of the trainer as a trip to nowhere. After all, it took me quite far in my training and recovery.

April 6, 2011

THE DRESS REHEARSAL

We’ve had the final dress rehearsal. We’re just waiting to get on the big stage.

Two Saturdays ago was the last big training run for my Team In Training Boston marathon team. (Boy, I've gotten lax at updating the blog. Apologies!) Like many other charities, we headed to the Boston Marathon course to plan a point-to-point, 20-mile run – the closest thing we’d get before the Big Day on April 18.

The morning started like most other team meetings: some last-minute tips from our coaches, a few “Go Team” cheers, lots of stretching, story swapping and a tear-jerking dedication by a fellow teammate. That day, we were running in honor of 3-year-old Tucker, our teammate’s nephew who is battling leukemia.

By 8 a.m., we’d boarded the line of school buses that awaited us – 100 or more runners in all – and headed to the starting line. Yes, The Starting Line of the most prestigious marathon in the world. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have butterflies.

It wasn’t the Big Dance, but it was as close as we were going to come to the real thing until race day. We were taking part in the Boston Athletic Association charity run, the 20-mile training run that’s loomed on all of our calendars since we signed up in the fall.

The day ran like a well-oiled machine, complete with a line of porta-johns at the start and a vendor handing out fueling snacks and gloves at the start. (I really wanted some of the gloves, but the thought of holding them while I ran for the next several hours was unbearable, so I passed on the give-aways.)

At the scheduled start time for the Team In Training, our group – all clad in our purple race-day singlets – made our way to the starting line. And we were off.

Just like a race, the group shuffled along. If you've never been in a "big" race start, I hate to break this news to you: it's pretty anti-climatic. The starting gun goes off ... and well, sometimes you start running.

It’s hard to actually take off running in a big group, and it’s often more like an on-again-off-again jog. I tried to imagine how it would be on race day. Our small group of 140 people is nothing compared to the 28,000 runners that will stand at the starting line on Marathon Monday.

I stepped across the official starting line painted on the road, remarking at its faded and chipped paint. The next time I see it, I thought, it will be repainted and refreshed. I clicked on my GPS watch and tried to find an open spot in the crowd.

I had specific training goals for this run, so I resisted the urge to go faster at the beginning. The downhill slope and the rush of adrenaline surely would have allowed me to pick up speed. But I heard my coach’s advice over and over in my head: Go out slow, go out slow.

Her advice throughout training has been invaluable. I’ve learned so much about the purpose of different runs, pacing and strength training.

I checked my Garmin obsessively. Good news, I was right on track. And when I wasn't, I'd quickly adjust myself to get back on the plan.

On the marathon route, I eavesdropped on the conversations going on between runners around me, but purposefully resisted my natural urge to join in on the chatter. After all, I was there with specific training goals and paces to hit.

Still, I welcomed the opportunity to run with other people around me and to have festive and loud fueling stops along the route. The charities, including the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, Children’s Hospital, Dana Farber Cancer Institute and others, staffed each stop with volunteers. Each was equipped with water, sports drink, fueling snacks, signs and smiles.

I think I ate about a thousand Swedish Fish that day. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I did use them as my main, sugary fuel during the run. I just could not resist the bowls filled with the jelly, sweet deliciousness at the water stops. (Note to self: Pack Swedish Fish for the marathon.)

At the 15-mile mark, I ran past the Team In Training home base and encountered the “Memory Mile” featuring the photos of the people our team is running for. I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of photos, from babies to gray-haired grandpas. There had to be at least 100 of them.

At that moment, our team mission became very real. To my surprise, it hit me square in the heart. My eyes filled with tears and I picked up the pace. I could do this. If nothing else, I would do it for the people in those pictures.

The 20-miler wrapped up as perfectly as I could have planned - including a somewhat chilly, yet somehow perfect weather-day - and I even added an extra climb up Heartbreak Hill. After all, I’d come all that way and wanted to see what it would be like.

The next time I see those hills will be on race day. It’s scary and exciting just thinking about it. Now, if I can only replicate what I did for the dress rehearsal...

Aprill 15, 2011

A CASE OF TAPER-ITIS

The Big Day is here. Almost.

I'm still working on the last-minute checklist for the Boston Marathon. The list includes the must-do’s, like checking into my hotel and getting to the expo to pick up my bib number, and the want-to’s, like buying the official Boston Marathon jacket.

It seems nearly impossible that race day is already here, impossible that I’ve gone through six months of training. It’s funny how time can move so quickly.

At same time, it’s funny how time can move so slowly.

While the last six months have been a whirlwind – filled with wintry runs, strength-training sessions in the gym and fund-raising efforts – the last few weeks have crept along at a snail’s pace.

The final phase of marathon training is the taper. My official trainingfor the past week or so has included instructions to run fewer miles, sleep more, work less, convert my diet to 70 percent good carbs, hydrate plenty and avoid anything that my cause me to get hurt.

Seems like it would be the easiest part of training, doesn’t it? It’s most certainly a welcomed physical change, but in reality it’s tough on the mind.

My mind tells me that I’m not doing enough to be ready for the marathon, despite the fact that I know that rest and recovery is an essential part of the training. My body is repairing the damage I’ve done during training and preparing to come out stronger and perform better than ever.

I’ve spent the last few weeks enduring something much tougher than the long runs. I’ve been suffering though a maddening case of taper-itis.

It started with marathon-related dreams, not dreams of the cheering crowds and smiles at the finish line. These were dreams of losing my bib number and dreams that, at Mile 17, I looked at my watch for the first time and realized I’d already been running for more then six hours.

There was my personal favorite dream during which I was forced to eat a heaping pile of Chinese food just before the run.

Luckily, I know this is perfectly normal. My marathon-running friends have shared their own dreams of their shoes being stuck to the pavement just feet before the finish line and dreams of getting lost during the marathon.

There was also my new-found obsession with checking the weather. I discovered nearly a month ago that Accuweather provides a very long-range forecast. I checked it nearly every day – not that it really did much good.

One day the forecast for Marathon Monday would be sunny and 70 degrees (way too hot for runners used to winter training). The next, it would read 40 degrees with a mix of rain and snow. I began to wonder if the meteorologist were just messing with us. Finally, it seems to have settled somewhere in the high-50s or low-60s with on-and-off clouds. Just about as perfect as we could want.

I chuckled last week when a friend of mine, also running the Boston Marathon, sent me a completely panicked email that the forecast had changed to 82 degrees. Apparently he’d forgotten that he switched the location on his iPhone app while traveling in Texas last week.

Yes, we’re all suffering a bit of taper-itis.

We’ve also done full dress rehearsals, literally. I “practiced” running in the pair of shorts I plan to wear. I tested out socks. I made sure my hair will be pulled back in a way that won’t bother me for 26.2 miles.

I tested race-day breakfasts, marathon fuel (I’ve settled on Swedish Fish, the perfect sugary addition I’ll need to keep me going) and figured out just when and what I’ll drink along the way.

I’ve planned race day logistics – getting to the starting line, wearing throw-away clothes to keep me warm while I wait for the race, and meeting people on the course (I hope) and at the end of the race.

I gathered bits and pieces of advice from Boston Marathon veterans, and prepared my race plan, mile by mile.

I even tried to get more sleep, spent less time at work and avoid anything that might cause a last-minute injury. As much as I wanted to get on my bicycle during last weekend’s spring weather, I couldn’t bear the thought of falling.

There’s only one thing left to do: Run the 115th Boston Marathon.