The week before the marathon was probably one of the toughest weeks I've had to experience in recent memory. I lost a very dear friend to a sudden and tragic death, and heard news of another friend passing away - someone who I hadn't spoken to in years but still had very fond memories of. Then my very healthy uncle suffered a stroke. The night before, he was telling me that he runs 6 miles a day and that we should train for another marathon together and the very next day he was on a respirator fighting for his life. My heart was slowly breaking.

Also, a person who I thought was a very good friend suddenly stopped speaking to me and removed me from her life with the click of a mouse. I still have no idea what happened or why, and it still makes me tear up thinking about it. Then I came down with a chest cold and I lost my voice. You could seriously almost hear the violins following me around every where I went. I was a pathetic mess.

But due to a week full of crying, I slept like a baby the night before the race. I went to bed at 9p and woke up at 4a, full of hope and well rested. Got my clothes on, went through my checklist, arrived at the bus that was taking the team to the starting point at Ft. Wadsworth in Staten Island at 5:15a. I fell asleep again on the 20 minute bus ride. When we got to the athlete's village, we all camped out on the pavement with the supplies that were to keep us occupied for the next few hours until my 10:40a start time. I sat in silence for the most part, reflecting on the week, mourning the loss of my friends, praying for my uncle - almost forgetting why I was there and what I was about to do.

I just wasn't nervous anymore. The race had nothing to do with me anymore. I knew that I had to cross that finish line for all those who couldn't, no matter what. Nothing seemed more important in that moment.

Finally, I was lined up and ready to go. A friend saw me on television at that point and said that when the gun went off, I just looked serious. And I was.

I could hardly breathe, due to my chest cold, so the Verrazzano Bridge was particularly tough for me. It was so windy and cold that I had trouble catching my breath. As soon as I was halfway across the bridge, I knew that it would be a difficult race. After about 3 miles, I realized that I was getting more and more winded so I decided to pull off the course and just stretch on the side of the road. Big mistake.

As soon as I got to the curb, some idiot grabbed my shoulders and brought me down to the ground. I guess he slipped on some paper cups and used me to break his fall. I fell flat on my back on the concrete and the right side of my neck hit the curb. I immediately grabbed at his throat as he tried to get up, leaving 4 deep nail scratches down his throat. But it was too late... he was gone as quickly as he came.

The rest of it was a bit of a blur. People yelling. Someone grabbed me. Or maybe I grabbed someone? I don't know. I just kept thinking "6.5" over and over and over again. At the time, I wasn't quite sure why but it's so clear now. I ran and ran until I got to 6.5 miles, where my love was waiting for his first glimpse of me. As soon as I saw him, I lost it. I fell into his arms sobbing about what happened. I saw my sister Brittany out of the corner of my eye sprint down the street. I guess I started to follow her, and my man followed me. Then all of a sudden, my teammate Amanda was next to me asking me if I was ok.

I didn't know how to answer her. She wanted me to go to the medical tent and I remember thinking this was one big trick to get me into an ambulance. She assured me that she just wanted me to sit and rest for a few moments. She looked trustworthy, so I trusted her. We sat. I got some tylenol. She talked to me. It was all very confusing and I don't remember most of it. I just wanted to run and get my medal, so I got up and ran.

Amanda was beside me when we ran into coach Tif. I don't remember anything but the worried look in his eyes. I collapsed into yet another ball of tears as he was trying to assess my state. Everything was fine until I saw the dreaded sweeps bus that picks up all the marathoners who couldn't make it. For weeks before the race, those busses filled my nights with terror. I would not get on that bus. Suddenly, I pushed coach Tif off of me and ran.

I ran with fear until I saw my teammates Shekera and Tamera who were spectating the race, after having run the Dublin marathon a few weeks before. I tried to cry on Shekera's shoulder about how pitiful my life was, but she just looked at me like I was stupid and crazy and was like "girl, you better keep moving". hahahahaa, so that's what I did. I kept moving.

I kept moving... and so did Amanda.

Amanda was not running the race that day, she had just run the Chicago marathon a few weeks earlier and was still recovering. But she stayed with me from mile 7 to mile 26.2. She jumped in the race and stayed by my side and kept me going and kept me safe. I told her over and over that she didn't have to stay with me and she always said that she would do one more mile and see how she felt. When her muscles ached, she said she liked pain. When I got worried that she didn't prepare her body for this endurance, she said that she as an athlete and was always ready for a race.

That woman is and will always be my inspiration. I truly couldn't have done it without her.

So away we went. I was laughing and dazed and telling stories and picking up friends that had waited hours for me to pass and were worried about what must have happened to me. My friend Arlene was leaving her post, but something made her turn back and that's when she saw me. Seeing her put me in better spirits because I knew she wanted this just as badly as I did. She was so worried that I actually had to calm her down and reassure her - and that brought me back to reality. I kept telling her that I would be fine so much that I started to believe it myself.

Then I saw my other sister Tiffany banging her tambourine, my friend Oliver dressed in bright red Elmo costume and my cousin Naje in his florescent jacket. At one point, I looked around and thought we were the merriest bunch of misfits since The Wizard of Oz.

I was so moved by the overwhelming support of my loved ones who literally waited hours and hours in the cold for me and then held my hand until I got to the next bunch of people. I was never alone for a minute after mile 6.5. My lovely Eric-Jon was leading a separate band of misfits - Kyle, Mike, Raquel, Jeremy, Lauren, Brittany, Nathan - all around Manhattan, rushing to each destination by subway just minutes before I got there. The course was now open to cars, we were forced to run on the sidewalks and wait at traffic lights. The sun had long since set. And there we were, still going until the end. All of us became marathoners that day.

I met up with my coaches Kara and Joel and Alison, and another supportive teammate, Christy, for the last 2 miles, they stayed with me until I got to the finish - laughing and sharing dirty stories. They all told me that I had a concussion (which I did) and I shared that I suspected that my toe was broken (which it was).

Finally, I saw it. The end. And just under the finish line, was my love - Eric-Jon. I couldn't see the finish anymore. I just saw him. I ran into his arms and he grabbed me and I laughed. It was over. I did it. We did it.

I was whisked off to the medical tent and poked and prodded. I was released with the promise that I would go straight to the hospital - right after I got my slice of pizza. And even after all of that... after all the hours of running and walking, after all the time spent in the medics tent - there was still yet another friend, Rachel, waiting for me just on the other side of the fence with a big yellow sign and an even bigger smile. I've never felt so loved or so supported in all my life.

After I finally got home and peeled my blood soaked shirt off of my back, I reflected that with every long run, I keep a mantra in my head. Most times it's "P.I.T., don't quit!" where P.I.T stands for "Pain Is Temporary".

But this time it was "I WANT MY FUCKING MEDAL".

And I got my fucking medal. And I have yet to take it off.

There are something like 12 days left until the big day. 12.

I've trained all these months, but secretly I feel like I need another month or two to be really ready. All of my teammates that have trained for other marathons have completed them and have come back as heroes. And even though I've trained right by their side, I keep feeling like they must know something that I don't. That they must have trained harder or more determined than I did. That they are just more gangsta than I am.

I have been on long runs before, I know how it is. But with literally thousands of eyes on me, will I have the nerve to stop and stretch when I know I need to? Will I have one of those teary breakdowns that have taken me over in the past? I kind of wish I had chosen a different race - one where I don't know at least 100 people that will be watching me with bated breath. The pressure is on - people are flying in from all over the place to see me run. And to top it all off, people are expecting me to plan out everything for them - where to meet me during the race, how to get from point A to point B, how they can meet up with me after (if!) I finish... I can't even begin to wrap my head around that stuff right now. I can't handle even one more thing on my to-do list.

Stupid things keep me up at night. Nightmares about race mishaps, panic attacks about not being able to find my beloved other half in the crowd, harsh internal debates about whether or not to wear that damn fuel belt (the last race where I wore it left me with some pretty unflattering photos around the midsection... but I don't like stopping at the water tables to drink out of paper cups. I prefer to keep it moving). For now, I think I'm just carrying my handheld bottle - but then where will I put my phone??? My leggings don't have a pocket in the back... Arrrghhh, these stupid thoughts are eating away at my brain and are literally keeping me awake at night.

And then there is the pain. My back, my hips, my ankles - are these aches real or imagined? I find myself icing my entire lower half at least twice a day, just in case. That can't be good. What the hell is wrong with me?

Part of me can't wait for this to just be over - to put me out of my misery. The other part of me can't imagine not waking up before dawn on a Saturday morning and rushing out the door to meet my team. These people have become such a huge part of my life, even though they probably don't know it. I'm not as friendly or as smiley as some of my other teammates - one in particular who I jokingly call Pollyanna (you know who you are!). I don't talk much to anyone unless approached and I usually run alongside people with my headphones on while they are chatting to each other and laughing. They probably have no idea how much I need to see them around me, how much I depend on their energy to get me through this, how much their external chatter quiets the chatter in my brain. I couldn't do it without them.

And my coaches... What will I do without them? On my training runs, just when I think I can't take another step, one of them will always appear out of nowhere - on a street corner or riding up behind me on a bike - making sure that I am not left alone on a park bench. I think that I have had at least one dramatic experience with each of them... IT band issues in the beginning all the way to allergy attacks at the end. It's been a great system of support and I'll miss it. They have been such a source of knowledge and inspiration to me.

Well, it's just 12 more sleepless nights... and then: it's all over.

I guess it's time to write an update. There are something like 23 days left. Finally. I can't wait for it to be over, but I also will really miss this experience.

I feel ready and not-so-ready at the same time.

My last long run went really well, but of course, I have been nursing an injury since then. It's always something. My hip was hurting so much that I overcompensated by leaning and slouching - which sent my back into painful spasms for the better part of last week.

But I am up and running again. And I have gotten faster. Somehow with all my strength training and my rest periods, my body has had time to process all these months of training. I am a LOT faster than where I was a month ago. But even still, I am not running this race to make a certain time, I am running it to finish. I'll worry about my time for the next marathon :)

I want to write more, but coach Jaz kicked my butt this morning and I'm all sleepy now...

Also - I want to remind all you stragglers that it's not too late to contribute to this wonderful cause. I am at 95% of my $5000 goal. Only $234 left... help me out!!!

There are now less than 40 days to the marathon. It took a long time, but I still can't believe it's here already. I'm not sure I feel trained enough yet. The last run I did was only 17 miles. And that was almost 2 weeks ago. I should have been up to 20 by now so I can start tapering down, like the rest of my teammates. But during that last run, I really hurt myself.

We ran to Coney Island and back - and while at Coney, I tripped over a plank on the boardwalk and severely jolted my left hip. I paused for a while here and there, but ended up trotting my way back through blinding pain for the last 8 miles - broken and battered. I haven't felt right since then. I tried to do a recovery run on Sunday and gave up after a few minutes. I did some 800 meter intervals at one point last week and that was ok for about 20 minutes. Then it suddenly wasn't ok anymore.

So I've been icing and stretching and doing physical therapy and all the things I'm supposed to be doing. I still do my crosstraining and have started a 5 week bootcamp course with coach Jaz (which is brutal by the way, even though she has adjusted the workout around my healing hip). But I haven't really run. In almost 2 weeks. AGAIN.

I missed almost all of the hill training because of my IT band and ankle issues. Then after I was back in the game, I tested for a pretty good mile time and settled on a tempo pace that I was proud of. Things were going well again. But now, I've missed some of the speed training due to my hip.

And to make matters worse, the woman that I plan on running the marathon with (we run at the same pace and keep each other "in the game") has been out for a lot longer than I have and hasn't banked more than 13 miles yet. (ha, and I'm saying that like 13 miles isn't crazy far!!!) She's strong as hell so I know she can get her mileage up when she's ready to get back out there, but the point is that we are not on the same training schedule anymore. I'll have to do my 20 miles alone.

So I'm feeling kind of panicked. I know I can get to 20 miles this Saturday, but I don't know what my left hip or my right ankle is going to get to. Some days they work with me and other days they are straight-up my enemy. Currently, they both feel 100%.

I know that taking a break from activity actually makes you stronger when you come back because your muscles have had time to rebuild themselves, but I'm worried about my lactic threshold and the MENTAL strength to endure 26.2 miles. For the past few long runs, my calves started cramping up at about 11 or 12 miles and then I psych myself out and really struggle to finish. I'm a hot mess. And it's not fair because I have given my all to this since the beginning of May.

My goal is get my 20 miles done this Saturday, any way that I possibly can. Even if I have to crawl. Then I can taper off and run the Staten Island Half Marathon the following week.

I think my body is ready for the 20 miles. But I have a strong suspicion that I'll be fighting my brain more than anything else. Wish me luck.

It's so easy for me to get caught up in the mileage and the aches and pains... but that's nothing compared to what others are going through right now.

I always know in my head that I am running for the LLS, but I don't always remember it in my heart when I am struggling mile after mile.

A dear friend of mine shared a story with me this morning that made my heart remember.

Her daughter has been volunteering at a hospital and has formed a friendship with an 8 year old girl who is fighting leukemia. The child will be gettting a marrow transplant and then will have to be in isolation for 6 weeks.

Her daughter comes home crying - moved at the way this child speaks of her blood count and how this little girl begs the nurses to allow her to go home.

I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy!

The only saving grace is that she found a donor. Without one, she would just be waiting around endlessly enduring chemotherapy.

I keep wondering why this happened to this particular little girl, and not to me or to the person standing next to me... This disease attacks at random and it can happen to anyone, at any time. I look at my own family and pray that none of them will be affected.

The LLS and the DKMS are hosting a bone marrow donor drive on Saturday, Sept 25 from 10a - 3p at the Beth Israel Medical Center in Union Square. I urge all of you to stop by and register as bone marrow donors. It will only take a few minutes and all it involves is a swab on your cheek. But you will give hope and health to the thousands of people who are just sitting in limbo, unsure of their future.

You can find out more information through this link.

First, I need to say THANK YOU. I can't tell you how this feels. My minimum has been reached, I am officially IN!

thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou

You have NO idea how humbled and excited and proud and nervous and touched this makes me. I can't put it into words. Well, other than the words I just wrote :)

A huge weight has been lifted and now I can focus solely on my training. Of course, I won't stop fundraising - but it won't occupy every part of my existence anymore. And I am so elated that this money is going to such a worthy and respectable cause because of you guys.

To all the anonymous people, I wish I could thank you individually. This blanket post will just have to do. xoxo

My minimum of $3800 has been achieved. I don't have to stress anymore. I'M IN!!!!! These long months of marathon training have made me very goal oriented and so I won't give up on my personal goal of $5000. I'm now 80% there.

I was supposed to run 16 miles yesterday, but since I didn't really run last week on my vacation, coach Jim asked me what my longest run was to date and decided that I should run 14 instead. 14 sounded more than reasonable since I felt completely and totally out of shape.

We ran from Park Slope to Bay Ridge and back. Since I got lost on my last long run and had no idea how many miles I actually was doing while I was running, I went and bought a fancy new Garmin watch. It is an older model and was on sale, so it was pretty cheap. It has all these bells and whistles, GPS and a heart rate monitor that works by having this thing strapped to my chest - making it extremely accurate.

Now, herein lies my surprise. Running with it makes running easy. And I don't mean easy in the sense that I am not working my buns off, but easy because the time flies by. There are so many things to look at, so much data to analyze. I was in my OCD dream world. Pace, heart rate, mileage, elevation - everything right there, all the time. So many numbers providing literally hours of entertainment. 11 miles went by without me even noticing. (and then I got muscle fatigue through both of my calves, and really struggled with the last 3 miles... but that's beside the point)

It now occurs to me that my most favorite runs have been the ones in which I have every step planned out. When I know the course, the elevation, the distance between every major point. When I know a route so intimately that I can easily say that there are exactly 200 meters until the next bodega.

If I am told to just run with no concept of where I am or how far I've gone, this sense of boredom and defeat washes over me and I feel strongly compelled to quit. It just drones on and I hate it. But the more stuff there is to check off, the more data to quantify - the more elated and happy I am.

And since I've been running alone more often than not lately, this keeps my brain occupied. But don't worry, I only tinker with it when I am safely away from cars.

I am a geek.

A very happy geek.

A very happy geek who is running a freaking marathon!

I'm actually looking forward to my long run tomorrow. 16 miles. ha! I never thought I would ever see the day when I would be excited to run for 16 miles. Or to even be capable of it. But in all honesty, I'm looking forward to running along the waterside and I'm looking forward to the achy muscles that scream "you did it!"

I can't believe the marathon is less than 2 months away. I can't believe that I've already been training for almost 5 months. It felt like forever at the time but now it's almost over and I'm wondering where all the time has gone. I'm also wondering why the weight hasn't gone as quickly as the time has. But that's a whole other train of thought.

It's all becoming so real. I got my entry number for the ING NYC Marathon. I'm at 81% of my fundraising minimum and 62% of my goal. This is really happening. I still can't believe it.

All the pain and tears and joys and epic fails. And, my God, the heat. It has been an incredibly hot summer. My teammates and I have been through so much. Running or working out 5-6 days per week - for months. The other days planning out the food and sleep cycles. And we have spent so much money. The sneakers, the gels, the clothes, the fuel belts, the gadgets, the physical therapy - it goes on and on. It's been a commitment like no other I've ever made.

The fundraising is definitely the hardest part. I know that this is MY mission. None of my friends and family signed up for this, so they must feel a bit annoyed that I am constantly asking for money for something that I chose to take on. It's hard to keep asking. Everyone has their own lives and problems.

But the thing is that cancer affects EVERYONE. I can't name a single person who hasn't been touched by cancer of some sort in their own lives or family.

What surprises me is that the few people that I thought were "sure things" have barely acknowledged the fact that I am doing this, while people I haven't spoken to in years are coming out of the woodwork in full force. And I've had a crazy amount of anonymous support in large sums. I've had some friends donate multiple times and I have had others who have been instrumental in soliciting support on my behalf, going above and beyond anything I have ever expected. It's really been interesting to see and very touching, as well as confusing, to experience.

Through it all, I know that this is for a tremendous cause. Leukemia. Lymphoma. Blood cancers. It's not like the money is going to my rent, and it's not like I'm asking for a lot. $5. That's it. But some people feel guilty giving such a small sum and they are asking me to wait while they get more money together. The thing is, I can't wait. Time is of the essence. I have until October 15 to raise my minimum. And every morning, I wake up in a panic that all this training will have been for nothing. I am literally worried every single day. I would love it if everyone gave $5 so I can see a steady increase, rather than everyone donating $50 at the last possible second. It's nerve racking.

But how can I just expect anyone else to care? This is MY mission. I get it.

And yet, people care. 81% of my minimum has been achieved thus far.

So thank you. Thank you for caring. Thank you for your encouragement, your blessings, your moral and financial support. Thank you for your friendship.

On another note:

One of my teammates - a woman that has struggled and sweated by my side since the very beginning is about to go through something very serious. And I just want to take a moment to acknowledge her next journey. And if she's reading this, I want her to know that I was by her side since the first step - struggling, panting and sweating. And I will be by her side through each and every step that is about to come - struggling, panting and sweating right along with her.

You are not alone.

I really don't like asking people for money. It's much harder than the actual training.

Had to get up at the crack of dawn to eat and catch the subway to our meeting place in Prospect Park. From there, we car pooled to the New Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge. The plan was to run the length of the bridge and back into Jersey (about 2 miles), then run into Palisades Park for a timed run. I was scheduled to run between 2:15 and 2:30 hours.

I was of course a little nervous because of all the knee and ankle issues I've been having. The Battle of Brooklyn run didn't go so well for me last week and I was still feeling a little down from it. But I have new sneakers now and I wanted to try them out before accepting the possibility that I may have to run/walk the marathon. It's hard to even type that.

To protect my ankle from pressure, I only laced my shoes partway, so the tongue wouldn't push against my tendon. That seemed to have worked. I flew out onto the bridge and killed those 2 miles. On the bridge a dear friend, Rachel, showed up to cheer us on. That really got me pumped. The view was amazing and I felt so free and happy. Coming back I had to run against the wind and all the exhaust fumes from the cars really burned my lungs. It was horrible and I felt a bit nauseated from that. And then surprisingly, I became exhausted. Running against the wind is no easy feat, especially from way up high where it's coming at you in all directions. It really made me think about how I'll feel on that chilly morning in November with the wind whipping at me for the first few miles of the marathon. We start on the Verrazzano Bridge.

But I pushed that thought out of my head and kept going.

After I got off the bridge, coach Alison pulled me aside and made me stop to assess my ankle. I felt good, just a little tight, so we stretched together and she sent me on my way. While I was stretching, I got an encouraging pat on my back from my teammate Lauren who whizzed past me. The comaraderie of this team is what gets me out of bed in the mornings. These people are amazing. We share our lives, stories, pains, fears and joys. We push each other forward and watch each other's backs when we can't find a restroom. I'm really going to miss this team when this is over.

I was nervous to do this run because the park is all hills. Seaside cliffs. Up and down. Over and over. But I ran and ran and ran and felt good. Slow pace, short stride. Arms low running downhill so I don't propel myself forward too quickly. Arms vigorously pumping while running uphill for the added momentum.

I was alone for 90% of it and I don't think I would have been able to go on if I was with a group. Sometimes, you just need to be by yourself to get into the zone. Of course, that means that I got lost. I ran down a really steep hill and I thought my team was down there because I saw a bunch of people running around in purple shirts. So I went to join them. They were down by the water and running a loop around this parking lot. Once I got closer, I realized that the jerseys were actually navy blue and that this was an organized church run. A "Christian Couples" day of fitness.

For some reason, everyone was Filipino. Old couples holding hands and running. New couples in love. Young girls running behind them giggling. It broke my heart to see all of this, so I ran a few loops with them. And then I had to run back... up. that. hill.

By the time I made my way back to the path, I thought I would just about collapse. But I paused to stretch and then kept on going. It was total bliss. I didn't feel my feet, my ankles or anything - I just felt good. The view, the peace, the brisk fresh air. I felt completely rejuvinated. I actually started to love the concept of running for the very first time. I used to just endure it, but this made me want more.

The way back to the cars was almost all uphill and I started feeling tight in the achilles part of my tendon. Being overly cautious, I just stopped running and switched to a brisk walk. I made it back and felt amazing. According to the program on my blackberry, I ran for over 2 hours - about 15 minutes less than I planned - and covered 10 miles running and 1 mile walking. Not bad for someone who has spent the greater part of the last month on my back.

I took an ice bath when I got home because I was nervous that there would be delayed swelling, like what happened during Summer Streets. But waking up this morning, I am completely fine. No joint or tendon pain. Just good old muscle soreness. I love that feeling.

I feel like I was given a second chance... new sneakers, new attitude, new love for the sport.

Now, time for my 5 mile recovery run...

So I had a great and encouraging run. But of course, with the good comes the bad.

The day after my run, my right ankle was on fire. Though the swelling was minimal, it was still significant. I couldn't walk 5 steps without flinching. It made me remember that my right shoe in particular felt really loose when I was running Summer Streets and I had stopped a few times to re-tie it. My foot kept sliding around in it and I must have tied it too tight around my ankle, which was a recipe for disaster.

I don't know how I didn't notice that before. I got those shoes at Jack Rabbit around my birthday about a month ago, and that's also when my knee problems started. How could I not have put 2 and 2 together?? I guess it's because I hadn't done a proper long run in them yet.

But good that I found out now... my (month old) sneakers are inappropriate for my feet. I doubt I can return them now (bummer), but I have to bite the bullet and get re-tested for new ones over at Jack Rabbit. And I need to buy a new fuel belt, because the one I bought (also a month old) ripped during the race. I have no idea how. Ahhh, this is getting expensive.

I have also been nursing a chest cold for the past week and I lost my voice from coughing so much. My ankle and my chest cold are at about 90% now and I feel ready to start training again. But now I am back where I was 2 weeks ago. Facing a long run with 2 weeks of almost complete inactivity.

I am running the Battle of Brooklyn 10 mile race in Prospect Park on Sunday morning. I have every intention of being there and giving it my all. Let's hope my body has the same intention.

This past Saturday, Park Avenue was closed to cars, so we had our long run on the streets of Manhattan. The Brooklyn and Manhattan teams were getting together for the first time to do this run. It sounded like an amazing experience.

I was scheduled to do 10 miles but I was very nervous because I have had issues with my knee for the past 3 weeks. I haven't had a good long run in all that time. I felt like my body was recovering, but I was so nervous because I have fallen way behind everyone else in training.

So Saturday morning came and the subways were horrendous. I kept thinking that this was a sign for me to turn around and go back to bed. Plus, this was the first time my man didn't come out to the long run with me. He usually waits for me at the finish with a snack and a hug. But he was under the weather. I felt alone and not ready, and I wanted to go home.

I made it to the starting point on 52nd street and Park Avenue on time. There were so many new faces.

I looked around for my Brooklyn running crew. Not one person that I do my long runs with was there. I was doing this all alone for the first time. I was surrounded by supportive people in purple shirts, but they were all new to me. I didn't know their rhythms and pacing. I didn't know their aches and pains.

Ok, I had my ipod with me and since there were no cars, I gave myself permission to use it. I had loaded it with plenty of 90s era hip hop. Slow tempo, familiar music that I could tune in and out of at will. Nas, Jay-Z, Busta Rhymes. I got in line with my pace group and I really started to think that I should just bow out now. There was no way in hell I could complete even 5 miles today. No way in hell. My mind wasn't there and I wasn't sure if my body was either.

Just as we started trotting along, I panicked. What will happen with my knee? Should I run/walk this instead? Am I ready to be back in the game so soon? Can I even do this marathon anymore??? As I was filled with self doubt and no one to voice it to, I heard a man scream:

"You guys are saving my wife's life!"

I was overwhelmed and humbled. I started tearing up and my skin was covered in goosebumps. There was no way that I could stop now. I made a deal with myself that if I make it down to the Brooklyn Bridge (approx 4 miles), then I could run/walk back and feel accomplished. And run/walking isn't exactly a piece of cake, you know. Run for 3 minutes, then walk for 1. Rinse and repeat for the duration of the run. It's still something.

So I trotted along, slow and steady. Even slower than I normally do. There were times when I felt like I wanted to stop and walk, but each time I felt that way coach Tif rode past me on his bike and yelled "you're doing great!". I didn't think I was doing great, but my pride shamed me to keep going. I couldn't stop running as long as he was watching. He stayed in sight until I got to the Bridge. 4 miles. I made it. My knee was ok, I was well hydrated. And I actually started feeling good.

But I remembered my promise to myself. I could run/walk back now and feel like I did enough. Once I make it to that streetlamp over there, I will run/walk.

I made it to that streetlamp and was just about to slow my pace to a brisk walk when coach Jim suddenly appeared beside me out of nowhere.

Damn. He always does that. Without fail.

He is aware of my knee and rehab situation and we talked about my progress and how I was doing. I explained to him that I felt great (which was surprising) but my hamstrings felt a bit tight. He told me to run slow and make my way back to where we started (8 miles) and then go one half mile further and turn back - to make it 9 miles total - if I felt any more tightening. Since I have been rehabbing my knee and have been run/walking my last couple of long runs, he didn't want me to push if I didn't have it in me.

I felt like I was absolved by the pope. Suddenly my spirits lifted and I got into it. I got into the zone. 9 miles. Ok. Whatever. I can do this. I'm halfway there. I only have to do exactly what I just already did and then I'll be done. Just shut my brain off and focus on my breathing. Almost there.

Then the big hill came. I never realized how hilly the streets were on this little island, but it was a constant uphill trek for mile 7. My hamstrings were really tight now and I had to stop for a minute to stretch them out. I felt like they were cramping up on me. But I shortened my stride and kept going. 2 miles left. I can do this. I kept silently repeating "finish strong, you have to finish strong."

And I did. I finished the 9 miles. Mentally, I could have kept going, though. My spirits were soaring.

But I'm glad I stopped because just at the 9 mile marker, my hamstrings cramped up severely. So I guess I stopped at just the right time. 9 miles. I ran 9 miles. I was elated.

I had mentally given up even before I took my first step, but my body kept me going farther than I ever thought was possible.

So what if I missed that last mile? So what? I haven't been able to run past 6 miles without run/walking for the past 3 weeks. This was a huge leap. And I still have all of August, September and October to strengthen and train. I can do this. My body is proving that to me every day, slowly but surely.

I'm sorry that I haven't been around. I'm tired all the time.

In addition to working full time, after work:

on Mondays: yoga, in order to stretch my tight muscles

on Tuesdays: general training with the team (sprints, hill repeats, tempo runs)

on Wednesdays: brutal cardio and strength training

on Thursdays: 5+ mile runs

on Fridays: rest, but getting my gear and body ready for the long run in the morning. I have to be sleeping by 10p, which means I have to be in bed by 9pm since it's always so hard to fall asleep.

on Saturdays: up at crack of dawn to do the long run, then body icing. mental and physical fatigue overwhelms me.

on Sundays: Sleep and body icing. I'm usually in an uncontrollable daze the whole day. I hear the phone ringing but there's nothing I can do about it. I'm supposed to also be doing 5+ mile recovery runs. Sometimes I don't have it in me. And I have to get my stuff ready for the work week ahead.

I have to squeeze physical therapy in there twice a week, and stretching on the foam roller twice per day. I'm never home before 10p. I'm never in bed before midnight. I never sleep past 6am. I spend a lot of time frantically washing clothes in the sink that I'll need for the next day.

I have no time left. No time for laundry, no time for grocery shopping, no time to return phone calls, no time for my wonderful and patient man. And when I find an hour to have a conversation with him, I find myself nodding off and praying that he'll understand.

I'm doing the best I can, please bear with me. It's only 3 more months. Love you all.

Yesterday was an 8 mile run from Prospect Park to Coney. 30% of what I will be running in a few short months. What a daunting thought.

I'm getting a bit nervous because of persistent recurring pains in my right knee and right hip. My knee was so bad yesterday that I had to run/walk and I got really scared that I am going to be falling behind on my progress. So I'll be doing aggressive physical therapy and doing a lot of biking to keep my endurance up.

But then I got to Coney... ahh.... My guy met me there and we met up with the team, got a few beers and then splashed around in that cold murky water for the rest of the day. Killer.

Going to do a brief 2 mile recovery run today and yoga on Monday. Hopefully I'll be ok for the group training session on Tuesday, but I won't be pushing it. Have my first PT appointment on Wednesday. Wish me luck.

So yesterday was 400 meter sprints back and forth and back and forth. Brutal. Was not feeling it at all. Then I decided to let out a loud "whoop" and then I started laughing and I pushed and raced and felt great. But by then, practice was winding down.

But now I know to just let it all out.

On Saturday, we are running to Coney Island. Yay. Then we get to splash around in the water. This is the first time that I am excited to hear the words "8 miles"

And silly me just realized that I can do these updates post by post, instead of just editing the first post. Took me a minute (or 3 months, really), but I got it now. *slaps forehead*

Update 7/12/10

Had a rough and tumble birthday weekend, with a not-so-great long run and then an encouraging short one. So this week, the coaches have us running a 4 mile race in Central Park.

Central Park Conservancy Run for Central Park

It starts at 9am on Saturday, if anyone wants to come out and holler. But now, I've just received an email that we are to show up an hour early to "log a few extra miles" before the race. Sheesh. I thought I was getting a little break...

I realized now that there are 117 days left until marathon day. Where did the time go? Thinking about it makes me so nervous and excited. I feel like there is so much more work to be done and, although I am progessing quickly, it just doesn't feel quick enough. And I'm also nervous that I won't be able to make my fundraising goal either, since I've been stuck at 54% for the past month.

Time to get aggressive. Stay tuned. :)

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Update 7/7/10

Had a brutal "effort" workout last night in 100 degree weather. Learned about how different arm swings affect speed. I pushed it until I thought I was going to vomit but I feel great (now, at least). I'm really loving this. This weekend, we are finally leaving Prospect Park to do some distance running in the streets of Brooklyn. I am excited, yet nervous. Although I am tired of the trail in the park, I do like the controlled and predictable environment.

I realized how much I need new sneakers. My toes and ankles hurt at the end of every practice now. I am hoping to score some new running sneakers this weekend for my birthday... :)

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Update 6/11/10

The season has really begun now. I am trying to run 3 days per week and crosstrain 2-3 days. It's grueling, I'm not going to lie. But the support of my teammates has been immeasurable. It helps to chat while I'm doing long runs because I find it's the boredom that gets me more than the distance.

It's great that I'm not the only beginner, and I can't believe how fast we are progressing. When I first started, I couldn't even run 10 minutes without walking. Now I can run at least 30 minutes without blinking an eye. Amazing! Especially considering the unhealthy lifestyle I have adpoted in the past year.

Admittedly, I haven't been pushing myself as much as I should - I just have a lot of irons in the fire right now - but I am going to step my game up this weekend, for sure!

Please keep the donations coming. I am so proud and thankful to have such caring friends and family. xoxo

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Update 5/27/10

Thank you for the very generous donations that I have been receiving. $5 or $500, every time I receive notification of your support, I feel so much more uplifted and encouraged as if a weight is lifted from my shoulders and it propels me forward. Seriously, it's not the dollar amount, it's the support. The fact that my friends and family care. It's cheesy, but that's really what's keeping me going.

Thank you all again, so very much.

(and thank you to the ones who have chosen to remain anonymous. I understand why you would do that, but the suspense is killing me!!! I have watched too many episodes of Law & Order... I will find you. xD )

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Update 5/21/10

Had a great run yesterday - such a gorgeous day. I also realized that my high-energy 80's workout montage mix is not the best thing to listen to when I am focusing on distance and endurance. I usually get so hyped up that I burn out of all my energy after about a mile. Lesson learned.

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Update 4/30/10

Thanks so much to everyone who is extending themselves to help me do this. I am so seriously touched and this is motivating me even more than before.

As most of you know, I'm training to participate in the New York City Marathon (Nov 7, 2010) 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 the NYC marathon 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!

I am terrified of what I am about to face over the next few months - the rigorous training, the inevitable injuries, the mental breakdowns... but knowing that I have your support and knowing that each step I take is one step towards a cure, well, that just keeps me going.

Please (please!!) make a donation to support my participation in Team In Training and help advance LLS's mission. Don't feel discouraged if you can't give as much as you would like to. Just like each step, each dollar will bring us all closer to a cure. No amount is too small, every bit helps. And it's 100% tax deductible, as well.

I hope you will visit my web site often. Be sure to check back frequently to see my progress over the next 5 months to run this race. Thanks again for all of your support!