So one of the things that they always tell you when you sign up to participate in a Team in Training Event is: Start your fundraising early. Now, in the past, I've always listened to them. I've always gone to kickoff with a huge stack of letters (as many as they'd post for me) all signed, sealed and including a self addresses stamped envelope asking for a donation. I'd diligently sent out my fundraising emails. I'd scheduled my fundraisers early in the season. I'd sent reminders and second opportunities. . .

And then there is this year. Maybe I got cocky. Maybe I'd forgotten how much work the fundraising component of Team in Training is. After 4 seasons, maybe I thought I had this all down to a science.

Well, I was wrong. With 10 days left, I found myself staring at having to raise over $2,500 dollars. And during the middle of holiday time. A time where people are generous, yes, but are also watching their dollars trying to make every last one count. I'll admit it; I was looking at the fundraising as a big pain in the butt.

One of my tried and true fundraisers is gift wrapping at Barnes and Noble. Back in California, where the B&N locates the charity giftwrappers right by the door, it was always good for about 100 dollars a day. So, I'd scheduled 6 sessions of giftwrapping at my local Barnes and Noble and was counting on that to make up a big chunk of cash for my fundraising minimum. When I got there, manager informed me that the giftwrappers were not allowed to be by the front door, but were instead relegated to the cafe.

I smiled and set up my table. Then I realized that this location was going to be, eh, difficult at best. My totals didn't even come close to the totals I had been amassing in California. I was sitting for hours and getting to wrap 3 or maybe 4 gifts. . . So, It was with a heavy heart that I set out for my Saturday evening shift. I got set up, and prepared myself to wait.

To my surprise, it was within 4 minutes when someone came over to have a book wrapped. "Thank you so much for doing this," she said. "I'm living with multiple myeloma. My treatments are going well, but it's really been a tough road." We chatted for a while and I offered my encouragement and best wishes for the holiday season.

A few minutes later, a couple approached my table. "Oh, this is for the Leukemia Society?" they asked. "Yes, TNT is a fundraising arm of LLS. We raise money and awareness about blood cancers." I responded. "We know all about you. My husband has been living with lymphoma for the last 7 years. It's amazing, when he was diagnosed, they told us his life expectancy would be about 2 years. It's now been 7 and he's doing so well. The new medications are amazing. . . poison, but amazing." And off they went.

One of my next customers was a woman about my age. She had no presents to wrap, but asked if she could make a donation anyway. "My mother died last year of Lymphoma." she said. "This is my first Christmas without her." We spoke for a while and she asked if she could get involved. Handing her TNT literature and my email address I encouraged her to come on out and wished her the best going into what promised to be a difficult holiday season.

Before I left for the night, I met yet another person living with blood cancers. "I moved home, got divorced, and was diagnosed with cancer" she said. "It's been a long hard road but my doctor calls me his miracle patient. Thank you so much for all that you do."

Needless to say, my bad mood was erased.

It's so easy sometimes to get caught up in the WHAT and forget the WHY. Posting about your 20 mile run, your 100 mile bike ride. The aches, the pains, the general craziness of everything we do. Is my mile time less that it was a month ago? Why am I going so slow today? UGH, I hate swimming in San Francisco Bay! I totally ROCKED that course, I'm a complete stud-ette. I've got to raise HOW much by 12/17.

All it takes is one day, out wrapping presents at your local Barnes and Noble to remind you otherwise. I am humbled to be able to be out there, raising money for the cause. Raising awareness. Giving someone a chance to talk about her first holiday season without her mother. How lucky and fortunate are we? How important is what we do? The statistics speak for themselves, but they only tell part of the story. Just visit your local bookstore and see.

So one of the things that they always tell you when you sign up to participate in a Team in Training Event is: Start your fundraising early. Now, in the past, I've always listened to them. I've always gone to kickoff with a huge stack of letters (as many as they'd post for me) all signed, sealed and including a self addresses stamped envelope asking for a donation. I'd diligently sent out my fundraising emails. I'd scheduled my fundraisers early in the season. I'd sent reminders and second opportunities. . .

And then there is this year. Maybe I got cocky. Maybe I'd forgotten how much work the fundraising component of Team in Training is. After 4 seasons, maybe I thought I had this all down to a science.

Well, I was wrong. With 10 days left, I found myself staring at having to raise over $2,500 dollars. And during the middle of holiday time. A time where people are generous, yes, but are also watching their dollars trying to make every last one count. I'll admit it; I was looking at the fundraising as a big pain in the butt.

One of my tried and true fundraisers is gift wrapping at Barnes and Noble. Back in California, where the B&N locates the charity giftwrappers right by the door, it was always good for about 100 dollars a day. So, I'd scheduled 6 sessions of giftwrapping at my local Barnes and Noble and was counting on that to make up a big chunk of cash for my fundraising minimum. When I got there, manager informed me that the giftwrappers were not allowed to be by the front door, but were instead relegated to the cafe.

I smiled and set up my table. Then I realized that this location was going to be, eh, difficult at best. My totals didn't even come close to the totals I had been amassing in California. I was sitting for hours and getting to wrap 3 or maybe 4 gifts. . . So, It was with a heavy heart that I set out for my Saturday evening shift. I got set up, and prepared myself to wait.

To my surprise, it was within 4 minutes when someone came over to have a book wrapped. "Thank you so much for doing this," she said. "I'm living with multiple myeloma. My treatments are going well, but it's really been a tough road." We chatted for a while and I offered my encouragement and best wishes for the holiday season.

A few minutes later, a couple approached my table. "Oh, this is for the Leukemia Society?" they asked. "Yes, TNT is a fundraising arm of LLS. We raise money and awareness about blood cancers." I responded. "We know all about you. My husband has been living with lymphoma for the last 7 years. It's amazing, when he was diagnosed, they told us his life expectancy would be about 2 years. It's now been 7 and he's doing so well. The new medications are amazing. . . poison, but amazing." And off they went.

One of my next customers was a woman about my age. She had no presents to wrap, but asked if she could make a donation anyway. "My mother died last year of Lymphoma." she said. "This is my first Christmas without her." We spoke for a while and she asked if she could get involved. Handing her TNT literature and my email address I encouraged her to come on out and wished her the best going into what promised to be a difficult holiday season.

Before I left for the night, I met yet another person living with blood cancers. "I moved home, got divorced, and was diagnosed with cancer" she said. "It's been a long hard road but my doctor calls me his miracle patient. Thank you so much for all that you do."

Needless to say, my bad mood was erased.

It's so easy sometimes to get caught up in the WHAT and forget the WHY. Posting about your 20 mile run, your 100 mile bike ride. The aches, the pains, the general craziness of everything we do. Is my mile time less that it was a month ago? Why am I going so slow today? UGH, I hate swimming in San Francisco Bay! I totally ROCKED that course, I'm a complete stud-ette. I've got to raise HOW much by 12/17.

All it takes is one day, out wrapping presents at your local Barnes and Noble to remind you otherwise. I am humbled to be able to be out there, raising money for the cause. Raising awareness. Giving someone a chance to talk about her first holiday season without her mother. How lucky and fortunate are we? How important is what we do? The statistics speak for themselves, but they only tell part of the story. Just visit your local bookstore and see.

I'm only 20 days away from my fundraising deadline and, as you can see, I've got a long way to go. . .

in fact, for the first time, I'm getting a little worried that I'm not going to be able to pull this off. I'm hoping that my dear friends will be able to make a donation of any amount that gets me closer to the finish line.

Then, starting this week when I start my 16 shifts of book wrapping at Barnes and Noble, I will have a better idea of how far I need to go. THANK YOU SO MUCH

Paula

WOW. Its been a long time since I've run in the cold. And when I say cold, I mean, 27 degrees (or less) cold. I've already started upgrading my wardrobe to include full tights with windstopper panels and hooded shirts with ponytail ports and thumb holes!

As recovery from the Cape Cod Chowder Challenge (39.3 miles over 2 days) and training for the Walt Disney Marathon converge, I'm relearning some lessons that I'd forgotten I'd ever known. . .

First: Its really hard to get started when its cold. I mean hard to want to get started, hard to get out the door AND hard on the legs when you actually start moving. This last weekend (starting temperature 25F) found me staring outside at 6 am hoping that the sun was going to warm things up before I started. Forty minutes later. . . I made it out the door. . . Temperature 26. Not a giant difference.

Second. It doesn't matter how many layers you have on. . . its still cold when you start. And, for some reason, the pavement feels terrible on the legs. They jar into the pavement and feel like icicles breaking apart on the ground. -- This may also be that I was headed out for a 16 miler less than a month after my 39.3 mile race. . . or it may be the cold.

Third. If it looks like water, it may not be water. I learned THIS one the hard way. . . As you may remember, a few weeks ago, we were surprised with an early November snowstorm that dumped about 4 inches of snow on Worcester and gave the kids a completely undeserved snow day. Training must go on right? This marathon down at Disney is coming regardless of the weather here in Massachusetts, right? So, I found myself outside running down the plowed streets and shoveled sidewalks. The temperature was in the 40's, so it wasn't that cold, and things were fresh and wet.

Well, as you can imagine, as a headed into the downhill portion of Highland street by one of the high schools, I noticed some nice wet looking spots that I couldn't avoid. My feet hit the pavement gingerly, as I hate getting my shoes wet early into a run if I don't have to. Much was my surprise when I started to slide. And slide I did. Down about 25 feet to the bottom of the road on my backside, sideside, and narrowly missing my frontside too. Landing, spectacularly I suppose, in a snow bank at the bottom of the hill.

Yeah-- it must have been a spectacular fall-- how do I know, because the EMS guys who happened to witness it waiting in traffic pulled over to make sure I was OK. I was fine, except for the pretty wounded ego, and kept on with my run. . .

New challenges. . . New running routes. . . New friends to run. . . all to cure an OLD problem. Help me help others find a cure for blood cancer by making your donation today.

And if you want to follow more exploits of the ironmom, you can do so at www.paulasironjourney.blogspot.com